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captain-joongz · 7 days

Text

A little show

Pairing: Min Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: uni au, pure smut with a dash of plot, some fluff, strangers to lovers

Word count: 9.6k

Summary: Who knew that getting off in the uni bathroom to get away from the world's most boring lecture could lead to getting absolutely railed by a cute postgrad student... but third time's the charm, right?

Warnings: slight exhibitionism, masturbation in a public bathroom, sex in a public bathroom (for once they're even using condoms lol), yoongi is a little shit but he'll rock your world, dirty talk, slight choking kink, dom-ish yoongi, who am i kidding he's a fucking beast, fingering, backshots, rough sex, some begging, biting and marking, they literally don't talk to each once before fucking

A/N: oof this was totally unplanned but i cannot be held responsible for anything after seeing the d-day concert movie, this is all yoongi's fault. also it ends surprisingly fluffy for the filth that's contained within

credit for the divider to @saradika-graphics, thank you so much <3

I blinked rapidly, trying to keep myself awake while the lecturer droned on, his nervous slightly stuttering voice carrying through the classroom and lulling everyone into a half-asleep haze. Every Tuesday I had to sit through 90 minutes of this man stumbling through every topic, trying to connect with the classroom full of people while anxiously stepping around the whiteboard projecting his presentation.

I was fully understanding, this was his first year teaching and he still hasn’t shaken off the stage fright, but that didn’t stop me from wishing I had never enrolled into this class and rather spent the time doing literally anything else. It didn’t help that it was an afternoon lecture, dragging on until 5PM, which was usually the time I was already completely fried.

I looked around, noting the other students similarly fighting off sleep or browsing internet on their notebooks, some valiantly still trying to keep their attention on the lecturer and failing miserably. I watched the girl in the row in front of me order a cute sweater, deliberating between two colours for about ten minutes before choosing strawberry pink. I approved.

My body was screaming from being bent over the desk in my boredom, back bent so crooked when I straightened out it cracked vertebra after vertebra like a xylophone from nightmares. I sighed, squirmed around, checked the time. Only 5 minutes have passed since I last looked. I barely suppressed a groan. I couldn’t sit still for longer than a minute, leaning back then pressing forward, folding and unfolding my legs, just trying to find a comfortable position to spend the next 40 minutes in and failing.

After 5 more minutes I reached a boiling point, playing with the thought of just booking it halfway through, but instead my unoccupied brain started entertaining itself by slipping into a territory that it deemed more fun. I started thinking about what I’d rather be doing, where I’d rather be, flushing slightly from embarrassment but surrendering to these thoughts as they presented at least some form of entertainment.

I made it barely 10 minutes before I was so painfully wet and aroused I definitely couldn’t make it through the lecture anymore. I had to do something about it, now.

I wasn’t shy about the fact that I occasionally enjoyed wanking in some more public spaces like bathrooms, the thrill of someone possibly coming in and having to keep quiet was getting to me. I didn’t indulge in it often, just when I got really bored and my brain immediately went to “let’s get off to entertain ourselves” instead of doing something normal like other people, just when I was sure there was only a slight chance of someone actually coming across me.

But thinking all that, I realised I’d never taken such liberty while I was in the uni building, probably just thinking about getting out of there as quickly as possible, but fuck, this lecture was getting to me. Somehow it felt more morally wrong than some other random ass places, but I deliberated on it. We were in a secluded corner of the building, it was really high and there was no elevator, the classrooms were smaller and above there was construction going on, which resulted in this place usually being totally deserted except for those unlucky souls that still had lectures here. I was pretty sure there was no other class going on here right now and the chance of someone from here going to the bathroom at the same time was slim.

On a whim I decided to take the risk, my body heating up knowing I was about to give in to the need. I quickly stood up, grabbed my phone and made my way outside. The hall was empty except for a single guy sitting by a table directly across from the bathroom door, but I figured it would be fine. He was wearing headphones anyway, head bobbing to a beat I couldn’t hear and fingers nimbly clicking something on his laptop and toying with the mouse. I slipped past him quietly and went straight for the bathroom door.

Inside was quiet, as if cut off from the outside world, the only two toilets both empty and door wide open. I went to the further one, not that it made much difference with how small the room was, but it still made me feel a little better.

With the door closed and locked for better feeling of security, the excitement finally got the better of me and I rushed to stick my hand into my skirt to pull down my tights and panties, fingers immediately finding the slick folds.

I bent over, the stall small enough to allow me to lean on my elbow on one wall while my ass pressed into the other, fingers going straight for my clit and wasting no time in pressing on it and circling it desperately. Quiet sighs of pleasure spilled from my lips, body trembling with pleasure heightened by the fact I was in a public space.

I barely even touched myself and I could already feel how fucked out I was getting, knees shaking and the pleasure mounting dangerously fast. In my mind I imagined myself bent over the toilet and a warm presence behind me, getting fucked good, strong hands gripping my waist hard, pulling me back on the cock like a toy while telling me to shut up, laughing at me while I bit my fist trying not to let the whole university know how good I was feeling.

My orgasm was approaching embarrassingly quickly, the pad of my finger furiously toying with my clit while my knees were shaking with the mounting pressure waiting to snap. I was so wet I felt my juices dripping down my thighs, dripping onto my hand and making my finger slip all the time as I tried to get myself to cum as fast as possible.

That didn’t seem to be that hard as I could already feel myself hurling towards the edge, cunt spasming around nothing, desperately wishing to be filled, as my ass pressed harder into the wall and my back arched. I could feel a little cramp starting up in my wrist, but I didn’t let up, keeping the pace on my clit as I felt the start of an intense orgasm, the sensation bursting through me like a tornado and I let out a moan muffled into the crook of my elbow. My knees buckled with the force of it and thank god that I was still leaning on the wall otherwise I would have for sure fallen down.

My whole body relaxed, thighs and knees still shaking as I tried to get my breathing back under control. The bathroom was suddenly eerily quiet now that there wasn’t blood rushing through my ears and I wasn’t blinded by my own ecstasy, and I flushed in embarrassment but still couldn’t stop myself from a little joyful giggle leaving my lips in breathless wonder.

I took my time getting myself back into order, cleaning myself up and righting my clothes again. I was in there for only about 15 minutes, so there was no reason to rush. I did notice that my legs had a little boneless swagger to them as I suddenly went from high strung in boredom to perhaps a little too relaxed, a stupid little grin pulling at my lips as I swayed my hips leisurely.

But that changed the moment I walked back out onto the hall. The second I was out of the bathroom I immediately found myself in direct eye contact with the sole student sitting out there. I only had a second to note he was very attractive before I realised he was watching me with the air of amusement, eyes darkening and a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back and gave me a once over.

I flushed under his heavy gaze, freezing like a deer in headlights. It was obvious he knew what I’d been doing in there, something in my demeanour must have given me away. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his eyes lingering on my hands clutched together before amused grin set onto his face.

I broke out from the daze suddenly and set into motion again, escaping his hungry eyes and entertained aura, hurriedly scurrying back into the classroom where I sat stewing in my own shame for the rest of the lecture.

When I walked back out after we were dismissed, the hall was empty, to my great relief.

“Come on, you should come tomorrow at least for a little bit,” Jungkook whined, pouting at me and hands tugging at the sleeve of my shirt. I gave him an unimpressed look, firmly resistant to his charms, which probably made me the only person in the world that was capable of that.

“I told you Kookie, I’m not feeling it this week,” I said for the fifteenth time that day, “Maybe next time.” The dance major cutely stomped his foot and tugged on my sleeve again. His wild hair flailed around with the wind, probably getting into his eyes, but he ignored it in favour of annoying me.

“But the next party won’t be for god knows how long,” he whined, giving me his ultimate puppy eyes and blinking cutely, “Come on Y/N, you need to let go a little.” Now, I would lie if I wasn’t swayed a little bit, but the exhaustion was weighing on me and I was looking forward to just having a quiet evening in ignoring all of my responsibilities and pretending I have no essays due and there aren’t any deadlines I was missing.

“I’m sorry Kook,” I softened my tone a little to convey I truly was apologetic, smiling at him gently, “I promise I will definitely go to the next party.” The man brightened and straightened out, letting go of me and setting out on the sidewalk leading out of the campus.

“I have your word! No takebacks!” he shouted excitedly and I ran after him laughing. I knew he wouldn’t let me forget it, so I just resigned myself to going to the next party even though I quite disliked them. I had nothing against partying, but I just preferred to go clubbing and dancing, not spend my evening sitting on a stained couch in someone’s living room listening to total strangers get zoinked out of their minds and talk about assignments. But I would go for Kookie. Just once though.

We walked side by side for a moment, just enjoying the awakening spring. It was still pretty cold outside, but the sun shone more often and the temperatures were enough to wear just a light jacket instead of coats with shawls, so I soaked in the atmosphere. People were beginning to filter outside, sitting around on the green grass, talking and studying, and it was nice to see.

Looking around I suddenly froze, standing still in the middle of the path while Kook continued for a few more strides before he realised I wasn’t following. He gave me a confused look, but I was already fighting an embarrassed blush and didn’t pay him much mind.

On the grass by a big tree was quite a familiar looking student, his long wavy dark hair similarly pushed around by the wind as he bobbed his head to music presumably playing in his headphones. He was wearing all black, standing out as a sore thumb in contrast with the green lit up by sun, but he was fully engrossed in his laptop and paid no attention to anything going on around him.

“Hey Kookie,” I called out to my friend, finally looking at him, “Do you know who that guy is?” I discreetly pointed in the man’s direction, hoping I wouldn’t draw anybody’s attention by being a fucking weirdo. Jungkook was a social butterfly despite his shyness and he seemed to know half the university (probably a side effect of hanging out with Jimin all the time), even people from majors that had nothing in common with his, so I was pretty confident he would be able to correctly identify the menace of my life.

“Who?” he started confusedly looking around, eyes jumping around the students just living their lives. I tried pointing again, hoping he would see where I meant without having to outstretch my arm fully. “There, that guy in the black sitting under that tree.”

Jungkook’s eyes finally locked onto his figure and a recognition immediately lit up his face. I chuckled. Of course he did know him.

“Oh sure!” he exclaimed, “that’s Yoongi hyung. He’s a little bit university famous.” I looked at him in shock and then glanced back to the expressionless man sitting on the lawn.

“Famous? Famous how?” I pressed for more info, this time it was me who way playing up the cute act, hanging onto Jungkook’s arm and batting my eyelashes at him. He gave me an amused smile, seeing right through me.

“Well, he’s handsome and yet cool and mysterious, girls love that shit,” Kook played it up, flipping his hair sassily and fluttering his lashes, making me scoff at him amusedly, “Plus he’s a rapper and sometimes performs in the local clubs and bars, so he’s pretty popular.” I turned us away from the black-clad student who was still unaware of anything going on around him and pulled us back onto the path.

“I see,” I hummed noncommittally, not giving him any indication of why I would suddenly ask about Yoongi, but based on the amused looks Kookie was giving me, he must have had an inkling why the sudden interest.

“He’s actually in the same year as Joonie hyung, they’re interning together at the same studio,” Jungkook continued, keeping his eyes on me to gauge my reaction. I hummed again, not saying anything anymore and just sending him teasing looks.

“If you come to the party tomorrow, Yoongi’s for sure gonna be there,” Kookie mentioned seemingly casually, watching me out of the corner of his eyes as he pretended he didn’t care mischievously.

I only shot him a glare and pulled on his arm, leading us out of the campus towards the café where we were supposed to meet Jimin and Tae, Kookie’s friends who graciously adopted me into the group after I got befriended by the shy giant.

For the rest of the afternoon I could feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, his lips pulled into a barely concealed smile as he fought the impulse to tease me in front of the boys about what he must have thought was an embarrassing crush on the school’s resident heartthrob. I ostentatiously ignored him, only shooting him warning glares here and there to which he always responded with shit-eating grins. Jimin and Tae kept giving us confused and entertained glances but ultimately decided against asking what was going on, much to my relief.

God, if they only knew the truth about why Yoongi even was on my radar in the first place.

The next Tuesday I walked into the classroom again, fully determined to sit through the whole lecture and not move even an inch from my seat. This time I chose a chair in the back, where I could comfortably be on my phone and distract myself from the thoughts of last week, from the attractive man and his smirks. I wondered whether he was sitting there again today, listening to what I now assumed was his own music, laid-back and effortlessly hot. I began to squirm in my seat again, but I quickly tempered it down, scolding myself gently for having such a one-track mind.

Once again I made it through an hour and with 30 minutes left, I began to face a crisis. The boredom was getting to me and I needed to use the toilet, my bladder screaming for help and making me shift around on my chair in discomfort. I thought that I couldn’t really face the bathroom without getting extremely embarrassed, but in the end I lost the battle to nature and got up.

Only, stepping onto the hall, I looked up and lo and behold, there he was – Yoongi sitting peacefully by the window and clicking away on his computer, his big black headphones firmly on as always. The movement by the door must have registered at the corner of his field of vision and he eagerly looked up.

The moment his eyes laid on my figure, frozen once again in the hallway and heating up under his stare, he smirked widely like he won the lottery, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the chair. With his gaze following my every movement I hurried into the bathroom, cheeks blushing and knees turning into jelly.

On instinct I went to the furthest stall and locked the door behind me shakily. Having taken care of my business I paced the stall nervously, already feeling myself bend under the tension. I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again, knowing Yoongi was sitting outside fully aware of the nature of my little trip last week, but his demeanour, the winning smirk and dark eyes made me want to break that promise.

Embarrassingly enough, I could already feel myself getting wet again and I begun to lose the conviction to just walk away and go sit back into the classroom for another terrible 30 minutes. The thoughts of Yoongi waiting in the hallway, hungrily watching the bathroom door and thinking about me with my hand up my skirt were getting to me and I finally broke.

Swiftly pulling down my tights and underwear I didn’t waste anymore time in sticking my fingers between my folds, gathering the wetness and rubbing the swollen bud begging for attention. I couldn’t hold back the little sighs and moans of pleasure, my body hyper-sensitive and the lust coursing through my body more intense than I could remember ever feeling.

It didn’t take long before I was choking on the moans I desperately tried to stifle on my arm, knees shaking and close to buckling and pussy clenching on nothing, feeling so empty and so desperate for anything I was losing my mind.

And if I was deliriously cumming on my fingers only a moment later while imagining Yoongi fucking me roughly in the uni bathroom, that was only my business.

With trembling fingers I quickly cleaned myself up, blushing when I realised I was so wet the whole top of my thighs was covered in my sticky juices. Putting myself back together I rushed to scrub my hands clean and soon I was standing behind the door, taking a few deep breaths but the excitement still getting the better of me and I eagerly walked out, expectantly looking for Yoongi’s reaction with a little sly smile on my face.

And I was not disappointed.

The second I stepped out, his head snapped in my direction, confirming that he really was waiting for me to come out. His cheeks were also lightly dusted with pink from excitement, his eyes as dark as midnight with his pupils blown wide with lust. He immediately licked his lips, eyes raking over my form and taking in the shaky knees and trembling hips, the blush on my face, both from recovering from an orgasm and shyness, hair a mess and lips bitten red.

Yoongi suddenly stood up and I realised that he packed up his laptop and headphones, all his stuff probably stuffed into his neat backpack that hung off of his shoulder. He side-stepped from the table and leisurely made his way towards me, black dress pants nicely hugging his form, white tee tucked into them accentuating his slim waist and a thick black oversized shirt hanging off him in a way that made me slightly feral.

But there was something else he wanted me to see, and I clocked it as soon as he got close enough, cheeks absolutely blazing red and my pussy valiantly clenching again even after such an orgasm.

He was hard. When my eyes slid down again to appreciate how the pants fit him so perfectly they landed on an unmistakable bulge, the front of his pants tenting in a tell-tale sign of how much he enjoyed my little show. I gasped and suddenly all confidence sapped from my body and I was left aroused and aching, willing to do anything. He watched me with a mix of condescension and arousal, knowing how easily he won over me and loving how receptive I was to just a light teasing, how the blush spread down to my collarbones and my mouth opened subconsciously, eyes glazing over and brain no doubt filled only with the thoughts of his cock.

But with an arrogant smirk he passed right by me, heading for the door of the men’s bathroom. Only when he was halfway through the door, he threw me a look over his shoulder, winking at me and his grin turned wild and rough. Then he disappeared inside.

I was left in the hall gasping for air, body ravaged by tension and lust and head full of images of Yoongi standing in the bathroom stall and hurriedly yanking at his cock, the red tip wet with pre-cum, the liquid getting smeared all over his length by his eager hands trying to get himself to completion as fast as possible. I imagined him grunting, head thrown back and mouth open but still curled into that annoying smirk.

A door opened somewhere a little down the hall and a mess of voices flowed out, startling me out of my reverie and I realised I had been just standing in the middle of an empty hallway staring dumbly at the bathroom door. I felt the bashfulness catch up to me and it sprung me into movement. With one last look at the door I scurried back into the class and spent the last 15 minutes staring into the wall with flaming red cheeks.

When I walked out after the class ended, Yoongi was back to his place, sitting completely relaxed into his chair and grinning lazily when his eyes caught mine. I felt my whole body jerk with a bolt of lust, but I ducked my head and quickly ran down the stairs, rushing out of the building and towards the café where the boys were already waiting for me. Jungkook stared at my flustered face with an unreadable expression, and I let him think whatever he wanted, too preoccupied with fighting the image of Yoongi cumming all over himself just twenty minutes ago thinking of me masturbating just a wall over.

Later that week, after many orgasms, much deliberating and a whole lot of shame I decided I needed to hear his voice. I kept thinking back to how Jungkook mentioned he was in the same year and major as Namjoon and that he was a performing rapper, and I knew Namjoon put his stuff online. And if Yoongi really was a known name in the bar scene around the area, he must have too.

Asking Jungkook about his stage name would be too humiliating, so instead I decided to rake through Namjoon’s insta because he must have his friend’s account there somewhere, hoping Yoongi would forgive me a little social media stalking. Firstly I scrolled through Namjoon’s posted pictures, but he rarely tagged other people. Most of his pictures were of artworks or Joonie doing something silly and living his best life.

So I switched to the pictures that others tagged you in. It took a while, but I was able to see that most of them were from this guy Hoseok that I had seen around but haven’t really spoken to. I knew he was a double major because he did dance like Jungkook and Jimin, but I had never realised he was also in the same major and year as Namjoon. He seemed to post a lot from the studio, often with Joon hunched over his computer in the background, but after some digging I was able to find one that had them all in it.

It was also from the studio, it must have been the one the boys were interning in, presumably all of them together. Hoseok’s face was grinning in one corner as he was taking the selfie and even though it was dark, you could clearly see two men sitting at a table together and discussing something with serious looks on their faces. A laptop sat between them and one of them had his hand lying on the pause button. It was Yoongi and Joon. Only their side-profile could be seen in the photo, but it was unmistakably them. The description only said “hyung is scolding joonie again” but tapping on the photo it showed that both of them had been tagged. Bingo.

Yoongi’s account was full of mostly dark pictures, some from the same studio and some were of him on stage mid performance, but there weren’t as many as Namjoon and Hoseok had on theirs. I scanned some of them quickly, but even though he looked super hot and the photos were extremely well done, it wasn’t the reason of my searching.

I checked the name of the account again – it was Agust D. And there was a link in the bio. Without thinking I clicked it and was transported to Spotify, Yoongi’s entire career laid out clearly in front of my eyes in the form of three albums.

I spent the evening listening to them, letting his music wash over me and losing myself in the beat and the lyrics. No matter what I was looking for when I wanted to listen to it, I got everything and more. I suddenly understood all those star-struck students that according to Kookie trailed hopelessly after Yoongi, the man had a real talent and an aura that just sucked you right in, like a fly getting trapped in a very smug spider’s web.

His voice was surprisingly lower and rougher than I anticipated, the songs had no shortage of him growling or screaming, emotions pouring off of his voice in waves that just swept me along.

And I couldn’t wait to find out what he sounded like when he was getting his rocks off.

The next Tuesday I climbed those 4 floors of stairs confidently, wearing a short skirt and cute heels, gingerly picking a spot in the class that would allow me to slink off in the middle of the lecture again. Yoongi wasn’t sitting in the hallway yet, but I believed he’d show up soon enough.

The anticipation was coursing through my veins, making me jittery and giggly. From the corner of my eye I could see a classmate giving me a strange look, mouthing at me if I was okay and I nodded hurriedly, giving her a smile, hoping she wouldn’t pay any attention to me when I had to leave.

If the two lectures before were unbearable, this one took the cake. I could barely contain myself, squirming in my seat, trying to make myself comfortable while I checked the time every 2 minutes, wishing half the lecture had already gone by and always getting disappointed at how early it still was.

My mind was going into overdrive, feeding me ideas and fantasies, replaying last week’s encounter on loop. I couldn’t see anything except for Yoongi’s lopsided smirk planted firmly on his face as he made his way into the bathroom to jerk off, his face as he came thinking of me.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and I was absolutely losing my mind, thighs pressing together and hands tangled into the fabric of my skirt, bunching up the material. I made it 40 minutes before I grabbed my phone and sneaked out onto the hall.

Yoongi’s head shot up immediately, already sitting by the window waiting for something. This time I didn’t freeze up, instead I was the one who smirked at him and confidently walked up straight to the bathroom. He watched me raptly, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he leaned forward on the table. Couldn’t help but notice that today he didn’t have his laptop out, he just sat there and watched me, but I moved forward not giving it much thought.

I raised my eyebrow at him and winked right as I disappeared into the bathroom, the door falling shut behind me and sealing me inside in the calm and quietness. I rushed to the furthest stall, shutting the door behind me but not bothering to lock, too horny to think clearly.

I couldn’t believe this was getting to me so much, but the moment I managed to slide my tights low enough and ran my hand through my folds, I was already so wet it was astonishing. I laughed at myself in disbelief as my finger found my clit and circled it. Who would have thought this would become my weekly routine, jerking off in the bathroom while a guy I’ve never even talked to sat outside smirking.

But not today it turned out.

Just as pleasure began coursing through me at the ministrations, pleasured sighs leaving me freely as I got cocky not getting caught until now and the squelching of my wet pussy getting played with rang through the quiet space. Then, I heard the door open.

Immediately I froze, hand stopping but still stuck between my thighs. Slow silent footsteps made their way towards the stalls and I hoped whoever this person was, they would take care of their business quickly and leave right afterwards, but they seemed to be taking this in a really leisurely manner. I was holding my breath, counting the seconds, ears straining to catch any kind of sound coming from them.

“Don’t stop on my account, kitten,” a gruff voice suddenly piped up, the footsteps stopping right outside my stall. Relief and lust rushed through me at his appearance and I couldn’t hold back a desperate whimper, the fingers on my clit going back to work. There was a chuckle behind the door and then he was pushing it open.

I must have been a sight, underwear and tights pushed under my ass, skirt bunched up around my hips, bent over with my back arched leaning on the wall as I desperately played with myself, mouth open and eyes glazed over.

Yoongi’s eyes raked over me and he hummed lowly in appreciation. He made his way in lazily, shutting and locking the door behind him before leaning on it and just watching for a moment. I tried to put on a show for him but I was truly gone, the three weeks of built up arousal carrying me high and my body racing towards the edge in record speed.

I watched him back, watched his dark hungry eyes, his tongue peeking out to wet his upper lip, the way his hands flexed by his hips, twitching with the need to grab himself. I could see his bulge clearly, the tight black jeans barely able to contain it, and I was going crazy for it. When my eyes jumped back to Yoongi’s face, he was smirking at me knowing where I’d been staring at. What I wanted.

Suddenly he pushed himself away from the door and stepped towards me. Startled I straightened out, fingers stopping once more. He descended on me hurriedly, pushing me into the wall with his body, caging me in. Our faces were suddenly only breaths apart and Yoongi took his sweet time, teasing me by getting closer and pulling away with a laugh. I whined, my clean hand coming up to tangle in his hair and he let me, watching me from above as I writhed against him, wordlessly begging for any touch from him.

Finally, he took pity on me and with a cocky grin smashed our mouths together, immediately prying my lips open and licking inside, claiming me roughly and thoroughly. I moaned into him, body arching into his and he pressed closer, pressing me into the wall again and our bodies touched from our heads to our toes. His hand went to my neck, wrapping around it lightly and grabbing my jaw to keep me still as he kissed me with all his might.

Now with both hands I grabbed onto him, one going around his neck and one around the waist, and he broke the kiss to laugh at me quietly, turning my face with his hand so he could kiss around my ear.

“You’re such a little tease, you know that kitten?” he whispered, voice gravelly with arousal, “Coming in here every week… playing with your pussy… making yourself cum… and then coming out and giving me those eyes, cheeks still flushed from your orgasm and yet playing so coy and shy… you’re such a minx.” I tensed, eyes rolling back as he started nipping at my neck, laying wet kisses and bites all over any skin he could get to.

I didn’t even notice when Yoongi’s other hand found its way between my legs, fingers roughly pressing onto my clit. I choked on a moan, head falling back and hitting the tiled wall, hands flexing into his clothes. He bit my shoulder enough to leave a mark, chuckling at my loud keening before pressing his lips to the shell of my ear again.

“Last week I thought I would go crazy sitting there,” Yoongi continued, almost growling into my skin as his fingers twisted meanly around my sensitive nub making me tremble, “I couldn’t focus on anything, not when I knew how much you wanted to give me a show. Almost went to jerk off at least five times but I held off until you came out to repay the favour.” He chuckled again, hand tightening a little on my neck as he leaned back to look at me.

I tried to get my breathing under control but I was stuck with my mouth hanging open, noises flowing out freely as if this wasn’t a public bathroom. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind though, quite happy to watch me come undone just from a little teasing.

“It was the same for me,” I whispered, looking into his eyes and this time playing coy very much on purpose, licking my lips and batting my lashes to play it up, “Had to sit through the rest of the lecture while thinking about you in here. Was hell.” He snickered darkly, immediately catching onto my act.

He hummed, finger dragging across my lower lip, fascinated for a moment before he snapped back to himself, mouth pulling back into a smirk.

Without a warning his other hand moved lower, fingers tracing my entrance before two of them plunged inside. I moaned out, body seizing up at the sensation. I was wet enough that they went easy but there was still the pleasurable sting of being stretched out on two digits.

Yoongi certainly wasn’t the type to waste time. He hummed satisfied, watching me with those dark eyes, testing the waters with a few shallow pumps before he started finger-fucking me earnestly. Just like everything else, even now he wasn’t gentle, flicking his wrist up and pushing his fingers as far as they could go, curling them to scratch at that one magic spot that had me seeing white.

I whimpered loudly, hips gyrating to ride the motions, already feeling the stirrings of a powerful orgasm lurking on the horizon. Like a shark sensing blood Yoongi chuckled and twisted his fingers on the next thrust. I keened, hands flying up to tangle into his clothes and hair, hips jerking and chasing after the feeling.

“So selfish, kitten,” he tsked at me, still keeping his cool even though I could see his erection attempting to burst through his pants, “only thinking about your own pleasure. No respect for others, huh?”

My first instinct was to apologise, but I got choked up on the words when he started up his pace again, so instead I decided to be a woman of action. Slowly trailing my hand down his torso, feeling him up on the way, grabbing onto his chest, his slim waist, until I finally reached his crotch.

With the first touch he let out a light groan, fingers stuttering and eyes falling shut for a moment, then he was suddenly back onto me, kissing me wildly while his hips fucked into my hand, letting out gruff groans and sighs into my mouth, which I accepted gladly.

For a moment we were just lost in each other, not caring about the noise or the place, just pleasuring each other, touching, feeling. Then Yoongi was tearing away, hand flying from my pussy and stepping back. I couldn’t stop the pathetic whine that left me, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his amused face.

Instead he grabbed me and turned me around until I was leaning on my arms on the wall behind the toilet, one leg up on the closed lid for support. I shivered in anticipation, knowing what would come next. Yoongi was moving about behind me, clothes shuffling and rustling. Then his sweater hit the floor. I turned my head to watch just as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver packet. He grinned at me and winked when catching my eye, then reached out to me, condom in hand.

“Can you hold this for me for a second, darling?” he asked as sweet as honey, but there was something devilish twinkling in his eye.

“Of course,” I answered him. I meant for it to be sassy, but it came out on a breathless whisper as I took the packet and watched Yoongi’s hand run through his hair before setting on his belt. He unbuckled slowly, attentively watching my eyes soaking in every second as he pulled the belt through the buckle and out of his pants. Fingers toyed with the button before popping it open, tongue wetting his lips and hungry eyes eating me up. I trembled under his attention but held still, not even breathing as his fingers grasped at the zipper and pulled it down.

Tired of playing, he pulled his tee out and put the hem between his teeth, revealing his taunt stomach and pretty waist. Winking at my obvious gawking, he finally pulled his jeans and underwear down, his erection springing free. The sight of him shocked me to my core, standing there with his t-shirt in his mouth and a smug glint his eye while he leisurely fisted his flushed red cock. I could feel my pussy gushing and clenching around nothing, desperately calling to be filled up.

Yoongi plucked the condom packet from my limp hand and made a quick work of putting it on. He lined up behind me, hands finding my waist to pull my tee from the skirt, making contact with bare skin.

I gasped when I felt his cock slide through my wet folds, but quickly keened and arched into it. One of Yoongi’s hands tightened on my waist while the other disappeared to grab his length.

“Easy now,” he chuckled at my trembling body, my hips chasing after his cock and trying to entice him into fucking me.

“Please,” was all I could get out of my mouth, “please Yoongi, just fuck me.” His hand tightened again and there was a beat of silence before he snickered.

“So you naughty girl do know my name,” he teased and I froze for a moment, embarrassment flooding me. I turned to him again to see him smirking at me, tee hanging off of his form. “I heard it around,” I whispered sheepishly. He hummed, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Not really fair, is it?” he teased some more, a mischievous expression taking over his face, “Is it, Y/N?” I narrowed my eyes at him jokingly and he grinned.

“Now, what’s your excuse, mister?” I asked him sassily, “Not like I’m a campus celebrity… unlike someone here.”

“May or may not have asked Jungkook cause I saw you two hanging out,” Yoongi admitted easily, laughing at me when I paled.

“God,” I groaned, “No wonder he was getting so cheeky whenever you came up in a conversation.” At that Yoongi raised his eyebrow again, amusement dancing on his features.

“That happen often?” he asked impishly, leaning against me and once again letting me feel his cock sliding through my folds. I gasped a little and blushed even darker. “You’re Namjoon’s friend, so occasionally,” I bold-faced lied straight through my teeth and from the look on Yoongi’s face, he was aware but let me get away with it.

There was a moment of silence where we just stared at each other, mischievous little smiles on our faces, and then Yoongi hummed, pulling his tee back up to his lips and biting down on it. I shuddered, the lust once again taking the fore-front seat in my mind. This time he didn’t stop for anything, grabbing himself with one hand and the other going to my waist to hold me in place.

The tip of his cock circled my entrance and I subconsciously clenched, a gush of wetness leaving me. I whined and wriggled in his hold and he tsked at me again before sliding inside in a single thrust with a light condescending giggle. I groaned, pussy immediately squeezing around the intrusion, feeling every inch and ridge. There was a hitch in Yoongi’s breaths, both hands migrating to my waist and grabbing so tightly I felt his nails digging into my skin.

He barely gave me a second before pulling out and thrusting in again, setting a rough pace from the get-go. All I could do was bury my head into the crook of my elbow, biting into the soft flesh there to keep myself from moaning loud enough for the whole school to hear.

The stretch of his cock was exquisite, the slight burn heating up my already sensitive body to a near boiling point. With every thrust there was a tiny twinge of pain that left me breathless, desperate to muffle any noise that could cut our meeting short.

Yoongi didn’t seem to care much about noise, hands on my waist mercilessly pulling me back onto his cock and fucking me with so much force I felt my whole body twitching with the overdrive of sensation, the slapping of our sweaty bodies against each other and the wet squelch of my weeping pussy getting filled to the brim loud enough to substitute for our own sounds. He was grunting gruffly, the noise seemingly leaving his mouth involuntarily and getting muffled by the tee.

I turned my head slightly to look at him, and god, he was a vision with his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and face the picture of ecstasy, body rippling with the motion of his pumping hips and strong veiny arms and hands gripping onto me hard enough to go red with the force. I couldn’t hold back the moan and he toppled his head forward to look at me, a tired self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips at seeing my fucked out expression.

“Take your fucking shirt off,” I gasped out breathlessly, chuckling at his teasingly narrowed eyes, “You have such a dirty fucking mouth, can’t stand for it being shut.” Yoongi laughed, throwing his head back in delight. Within seconds the piece of fabric joined his sweater on the floor and he leaned forward, hands picking on my own shirt with a mischievous expression.

“Shouldn’t you even the score?” I loved how deep and gravelly his voice became with arousal, even when he was being mischievous I could hear the growl in it and it drove me crazy. I scrambled to listen to him, tearing the shirt off and flinging it behind us. Yoongi’s hands immediately travelled up, playing with the edge of my bra before swiftly undoing the clasp and dragging it off. I gasped lightly at his skilled handiwork and giggled, but Yoongi was already preoccupied with kissing along my shoulders and shoulder blades.

His hips angled better and then jerked them into me again, cock sliding even deeper now. I groaned and arched into him and that was his que to start fucking in earnest again. In this position I could hear the strained sighs and grunts every time he slid back inside, the rough deep pace taking a toll on us both.

The back of my thighs was burning from standing bent over and straining my hips for this long and it added to the mix of feelings running through me. I could feel my orgasm catching up with me, Yoongi’s cock now hitting a spot on every thrust that made me want to scream with pleasure, sliding in so deep I swore I could feel him in my belly and it was so good my head was spinning, and all that came out of me were raspy moans. Yoongi bit into my shoulder, grunts raising in octave, hands pulling at my body to meet his thrusts.

I prayed to god that the walls were thick enough to keep the sounds from escaping onto the hall. I knew that if someone stepped inside now, there would be no masking what was going on, we were both too gone for that, just chasing our pleasure.

I was so close, the weeks of build up and the foreplay and teasing making me delirious. There in that moment I just wished I could stay like this forever, to feel this delicious ecstasy for the rest of my life, but I was so close to snapping I just needed a little extra push even though my head was so high in the clouds wishing to be never brought down.

“Please Yoongi, god,” I choked out, “please, I’m so close.” That seemed to snap Yoongi back into his attitude again, but he couldn’t hide how affected he was too.

“What do you want, kitten, mm?” even he couldn’t talk properly through the gasps and grunts, but still tried to sound as cocky as possible. Instead of talking I grabbed his hand and brought it down between my legs.

Yoongi pressed himself to me closer to make the reach more comfortable, his chest glued to my back as he nibbled on my neck and shoulder, giggling breathlessly when his naughty fingers started drawing tight quick circles on my clit.

My moans got louder, the pumping of his cock, hitting so deep inside of me, combined with the stimulation on my clit made me seize up, whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook me. Yoongi groaned every time my pussy clenched around him, drawing him deeper and closer to his own end. Both of us were so sweaty we stuck to each other, the temperature in the stall rising so high it was almost unbearable.

“Yoongi,” I gasped out, just repeating his name breathlessly as I barrelled to the climax, feeling the beginning of the tingling washing over me, pussy seizing up. Yoongi’s hands were like vice on my body, my waist littered with red indents of his nails, some already purpling slightly.

“I know, kitten,” he whispered into my neck, “Me too, you can let go.” The moment those words left his mouth my orgasm exploded over me, enough to blind me and send my ears ringing for a few moments. I let out a raspy groan, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wall and if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s hold on me, my buckling knees would have sent me crashing to the floor, but all I could focus on was the euphoria blooming through my body, flooding all my senses with so much pleasure I could barely fully register anything that was going on. Yoongi fucked me through the peak, hips losing rhythm and all decorum until finally he gave last few hard pumps and stilled too, coming with a drawn-out moan, hands pushing our hips as close together as they could go.

We clung onto each other as we attempted to catch our breaths again. I felt my arms slipping on the tiles as the pleasant ache started setting into my hips and lower tummy, legs screaming for a reprieve as my brain slowly came back into function. I blinked my eyes open, not even realising I had closed them at some point. Yoongi was basically hugging me from the behind, draped over me just breathing deep, faced smushed into my shoulder blade. Then he chuckled.

“You think we’re still in the clear?” he laughed, “How thick do you think these walls are?” A giggle tumbled out of me and before I knew it we were both laughing breathlessly, bodies still pressed close.

“This is officially the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” I told him, shaky knees trying to keep my weight as I started to gather my wits. Yoongi let me go easily and helped me find my balance as my whole body ached, back killing me after Yoongi railed me like a madman.

“And here I was, thinking this was just regular Tuesday for you.”

I slapped his shoulder lightly, but the blush on my cheeks revealed that I couldn’t really say anything to that. His amused snickers told me he was well aware, so I just stood there and watched him slip the condom off, tie it up and then just awkwardly stand there not knowing what to do with it.

“Guess I can’t just casually drop a used condom into a bin in the girl’s bathroom,” he stated nonchalantly, and I giggled at him. In the end he grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and hid it inside, putting in on the closed bin lid for the moment.

Next Yoongi swiftly cleaned himself up and pulled his jeans back on, but when I reached for the paper to do the same, he swatted my hand away. With a much gentler smile he got it himself, kneeled in front of me and started cleaning me up, gently wiping away the mess left on my centre and thighs. I watched him attentively, the soft look on his face making him look boyish, only the naughty glint in his eyes reminiscent of the man he was just a few minutes ago.

When our eyes met, I returned the smile, hand instinctively going to tangle into his hair. I meant to just card it through the dark wavy locks, but the heated look he gave me had me shuddering again, fingers tightening. Yoongi smirked, tongue licking at his lips sensually just inches away from my exposed pussy.

“Still thinking about naughty things, kitten?” he said, voice dark and deep, “Like the sight of me on my knees for you?” I hesitated for a moment before untangling my hand and gently pushing him with a blush.

“I see,” Yoongi hummed thoughtfully, “maybe next time then.” With a wink he stood up and when I didn’t move he motioned for me to start dressing up with a smirk, handing me my bra and t-shirt. We slowly clambered out of the stall, stretching and trying to get all the body parts to working order again.

“How about,” Yoongi drawled out, self-assured and with the attitude of someone who just got their rocks off, “you ditch the lecture you never really go to anyway and we grab something to eat?” I stopped in my tracks, shocked but pleasantly surprised at his offer. I checked the time quickly.

“There’s only like 10 minutes of class left, I can sit that out and then we can go,” I answered, smiling softly, but Yoongi smirked with all his might, something devilish glinting over his face. He leaned towards me, grabbing me lightly by my shoulders.

“Not looking like that, you can’t,” he whispered meanly and spun me around. The moment I laid my eyes on myself in the mirror, I gasped. Yoongi was standing behind me grinning like the devil admiring his handiwork. My neck was littered in little bites and spots ranging from dark pink across red all the way to purple. Yoongi let out a satisfied hum, almost sounding like a purr, his hands going across my waist to pull at the tee tucked into my skirt to reveal more reddish purplish bruises from his fingers.

I turned in his arms and slapped his shoulder lightly, completely flustered by his antics. “How can I walk out of here now? Everyone will know what I’d been doing instead of sitting at the lecture,” I whined, more embarrassed than angry, but Yoongi’s laughing face was totally free of any remorse, “I look like someone beat me up.”

The man said nothing, just pulled me closer to kiss me gently. I looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before I whined again: “I don’t even have a scarf with me today.” He burst out laughing and patted my hip softly.

“I’ll get your stuff, you wait here,” he whispered conspiratorially and with one last wink he was gone. It took him only three minutes to stick his head back into the bathroom, looking a little ruffled and a lot amused.

“I suggest we get going fast, I’m afraid a guy leaving the ladies restroom isn’t as inconspicuous as I wished it was,” he got out quickly, smirking impishly and handing me my coat. I tried to wear it in a way that covered most of the marks, but it was futile, more than half of my neck still on full display.

I walked out of the bathroom the same moment the door to my classroom opened and students started filing out. Yoongi exchanged a single glance with me before we both took off, running down the stairs like we were being chased, only stopping once the building doors slammed shut behind us.

“Jimin’s café?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, still trying to get his strength back and leaning on his knees. I grinned at him and grabbed his hand, already pulling him in the right direction.

“Sure, let’s go!”

Bonus:

“Holy shit! The fuck happened to you?” Jimin exclaimed loudly enough for the whole café to hear the moment he saw me walk through the door. Jungkook and Tae, who were sitting at a small table near the counter to keep Jimin company while he had his shift, turned to look at me only for Kookie to promptly spit out whatever he was drinking.

“Holy shit!” I gave him an unimpressed look and walked up to Jimin to order.

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I side-eyed him sassily, but Jungkook was grinning mischievously, a knowing glint in his eye. I flushed under his gaze and looked away at which he started laughing loudly.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe you actually did it,” he giggled, properly entertained by the situation and by my embarrassment. Tae was watching it all unfold, confused look on his face.

“Did what?” Jimin asked, similarly confused.

As if on cue the door opened again and Yoongi stepped in, ignoring everyone currently staring at him and walking straight to me, arm curling around my waist to pull me closer to him. He bent down slightly to whisper in my ear: “Got rid of the evidence successfully.”

“Holy shit!” This time it was Tae who screamed, coming full circle. I gave their smug smiling faces an annoyed glare and turned to Jimin to order again, but he was trying to conceal his grin behind his hand. Even more vexed I turned to Yoongi who was smirking smugly like a cat who got all the cream, hand possessively squeezing at my bruised waist.

“On second thoughts, we shouldn’t have come here,” I said to no one in particular, then turning my narrowed eyes at the man of the hour himself, “and wipe that smirk off your face, mister.” There were giggles from the boys all around us, but Yoongi just swooped down and kissed me softly, then pushed us closer towards the counter.

Jimin cleared his throat and tried to put on a professional expression, but there was mirth in his eyes that I just knew I was going to get all the teasing later. Tae and Kookie cleared out the mess at the table and made space for us to sit down, one looking more amused than the other.

I gave them both the stink eye and ignored them, checking my phone instead, trying to reply to all the messages I’ve missed in the last hour. Around me there was silence, everyone just sitting there looking at each other grinning, before Jungkook cleaned his throat and exclaimed:

“God, fucking finally! Thought Yoongi-hyung was gonna talk my ear off about you!”

“Kookie!” There was a pretty blush spreading on Yoongi’s cheeks, a polar opposite to the cocksure man that was railing my brains out 20 minutes ago. I giggled and squeezed his arm. He gave in easily, leaning towards me.

Then he set his eyes on Jungkook and narrowed them teasingly. “We’re gonna settle that later you brat.”

#kpop fic #kpop smut #kpop fluff #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #suga fic #yoongi fic #suga smut #suga fluff #suga x reader

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bemusedlybespectacled · 4 months

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Question: I enjoyed s1 OF OFMD, but for various reasons I never actually got around to watching s2 (pick up most of the plot from tumblr tho). What exactly went wrong in s2 that got so many people upset?

Oh, boy. Very long rant incoming.

So, for context, S2 had a significantly smaller budget, which necessitated moving the filming location to union-unfriendly New Zealand, reducing the number of actors/number of appearances of established actors, and cutting down the number of episodes from 10 to 8. In a show where each episode is only about half an hour long, that last one alone was enough to seriously hamper any character development or plot. I am very comfortable putting the vast majority of the blame on HBO because of these financial decisions.

The short version is that Jenkins et. al. needed to address and build on the problems left hanging in S1 while also getting the characters to the end of their character trajectories in case there was no S3 while also leaving room for additional episodes in case there was a S3, in a grand total of four hours, and failed.

The long version is that there were a bunch of what I'd consider small problems in isolation that came together and exploded in the S2 finale.

The reduced cast necessitated breaking up the crew (ex: having Swede marry Jackie and stay on land with her, so they don't need to pay Nat Faxon for all eight episodes) and not spending as much time on their relationships as S1 did.

The reduced time meant that the entire season was rushed (in contrast to S1, which takes place over at least several weeks if not months, most of S2 takes place in roughly five days), leading both to a lot of telling rather than showing (because they don't have time to show you), including vital character and relationship development.

This includes:

Having the Kraken half of the crew beat Ed to death after months of being abused by him – abuse that is clearly shown to have given them PTSD and a well-justified fear and hatred of him – only for them to be okay with him two in-universe days later;

On that note, having Stede dismiss the crew's concerns about Ed because he loves him and also we only have three more episodes left to fit in everything so we need to get over it really fast, even though Stede is supposed to be well-meaning and caring (even if he's not good at it all the time);

Resolving the issue of Stede abandoning Ed in one day, then having them "go slowly" in their relationship for two days and then have some spur-of-the-moment sex, and then the next afternoon have them break up over their diverging career aspirations, and then the day after that resolve that problem and retire on land while the rest of the crew sails off into the sunset;

Stede becoming a fantastic pirate captain over the course of one day, becoming wildly popular in the piracy world two days later, and then deciding the day after that to never be a captain again because he is retiring with Ed;

Having Ed and Stede decide to retire together as what is implied to be the end point of their relationship arc, when none of Stede's issues from S1, like his poor self-esteem, have been so much as mentioned by anyone, implying that he's either magically gotten over them or they don't matter all that much, actually, even though they were the catalyst for basically everything he did in S1;

Ed having two separate character crises – "I am an unlovable person" and "I want to do something with my life other than piracy" – not spending a lot of time on either one, having moments that clearly indicate he is still working on both problems and they have not been resolved, and then apparently having them both be resolved in the final episode despite nothing occurring to actually make that happen, and in regards to the latter, despite the story actively undermining it by repeatedly showing he can't do anything other than piracy;

Related to the above, Ed ending the series as allegedly being loved by the crew as a family (thus solving Crisis #1) despite this never actually being shown, demonstrated, or even fucking alluded to onscreen. If anything, it shows the exact opposite.

This last point is especially galling to me because of what is probably the most divisive issue in the fandom right now: killing off Izzy Hands after giving him seven episodes of character development.

The show begins with the Kraken crew clearly trying to use the skills they learned as part of Stede's crew to cope with their incredibly shitty situation and care for each other, which includes Izzy. Izzy, on his end, tries to protect the crew and speak up for them, which results in him being repeatedly hurt (both implicitly, as Ed at one point says "that's another toe" in response to Izzy advocating for the crew and we later see he's missing more than one toe already, and explicitly, as Ed shoots him in the fucking leg in front of the crew when he stands up for them).

This camaraderie is shown again and again and again. Frenchie, Jim, and Archie take care of Izzy while his leg is infected, at risk to their own lives. Izzy's misery over losing his leg is what unites the PTSD-ridden Kraken crew and the well-meaning-but-ignorant-of-PTSD marooned crew, who are initially at odds, to make him a new prosthetic leg. Izzy gives Lucius advice about forgiving Ed. Izzy is introduced to drag and opens up enough to sing at a crew party, and the whole crew is having fun together while Ed and Stede are in their cabin having sex for the first time. Izzy gives Stede pirate captain lessons and bonds with him when Ed leaves him. Izzy provokes the season's villain into focusing on him and then gives a big speech about how piracy is about belonging to something, giving the rest of the crew time to try to escape.

Recall that Season 1 had some pretty well-established universe rules, one of which was that it runs on Muppet physics/magical realism. People can jump off yardarms, hit the side on the way down, and be perfectly fine. People can get stabbed in the liver and it's totally okay because it's probably not that important, and even can stay pinned to a mast all night that way with only mild discomfort. Buttons can talk to birds and see long distances without a spyglass and put hexes on people. Good people can be hurt (Stede is stabbed repeatedly), bad people can die (the Badmintons, Geraldo), but no one we care about is ever killed.

This is repeated in Season 2: Ed is beaten into a coma with a cannonball and wakes up like Sleeping Beauty after a spirit journey, with no injuries to his face or body. Buttons turns into a seagull after spending an episode doing a magic ritual and is never seen again (because they couldn't keep paying Ewen Bremner due to the budget cuts). Jackie microdoses her husbands with poison to build up their immunity, so that she can later pull a Dread Pirate Westley and poison the British with shared drinks.

So: in the finale, the villain of the season is taken hostage by the pirates (for reasons? unclear how that fits in the plan), happens to have a gun on him (no one checked??), shoots Izzy on the right side and then leaves with no repercussions. The entire crew stands around silently doing nothing while Ed cries over Izzy and tells him that he's his only family.

And Izzy fucking Hands, the guy who just spent eight episodes bonding with and protecting everyone, uses his last words to reassure Ed that him becoming Blackbeard/the Kraken was Izzy's fault and that the crew is Ed's family and they all love him. No one else says anything to Izzy or tries to comfort him or help him in any way.

I repeat: in a show predicated on the idea that bullies and bigots die stupid deaths while queer people and POC are basically magic, a show that was praised for being kind to queer people by not making them worry about their faves suffering or dying, a show founded on the strength of the relationships between the characters, the guy who went through a season-long arc of learning to embrace his pirate found family and his own queerness is shot for stupid reasons on the side we're told isn't important and dies while everyone just stands there. His last words are about the whole crew loving Ed when the only person that the whole crew has loved all season is him.

Anyway, never mind all that, let's cut to Lucius and Pete getting married and Stede and Ed retiring!

Complicating all this is that people who liked Izzy (or even said anything insufficiently mean about Izzy) were harassed for months in between seasons with insults, slurs, and actual fucking death threats. Izzy's growth was kind of a vindication for liking him: it meant that, despite all the harassment, we were right to like him and care about him as a character. Even people who didn't like him initially started to like him during Season 2.

And then he dies, and now there's a bunch of people saying that Izzy fans are big whiny babies who can't handle fictional death, and actually his death was so meaningful and beautiful and the only logical end to his arc, and it can't be bad writing because people die in real life all the time, and also he admitted he fed Ed's darkness so actually he was a terrible person all along anyway and they were right to hate him (and his fans)!

So, yeah, there are a lot of reasons why it's so hated, and I'm probably only addressing the problems of the pro-Izzy people (from what I can tell, BlackBonnet shippers who don't like Izzy think Ed and Stede's relationship is fine and dandy, but I'm sure that there are other criticisms they have that I have not addressed). I'm not even addressing the issues with Jim and Oluwande's relationship this season (and whooo boy are there issues).

It wasn't a universally bad season. There were episodes I really loved and still do. But the finale was a train wreck, and because it was a train wreck, a lot of people are looking back at what happened before the wreck and realizing that, oh, the train lost its brakes and steering because of the budget cuts and the engineers kept throwing fuel in the engine to make it go faster, and huh, now that I think of it, that part earlier in the trip was really wobbly but I didn't pay much attention to it at the time because I was sure the engineers had everything covered.

#ofmd critical #our flag means death #writing #izzy hands #ofmd meta #askbox #personal

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janeleclerc · 1 year

Text

: ̗̀➛ my little bookworm; l. hamilton.

request here <3 enjoy!

─ warnings; none at all, fluff!

Anyone who met Y/N would definitely be able to assure everyone that she is so absorbed in the world of reading.

Any genre, any time, anywhere, from novels to leaflets, she’d enjoy and indulge in every single word written.

And, in fact, Y/N and Lewis had met in a library.

And now, whenever they want to spend some quality time together, they head out to the library. Lewis would carry around books for Y/N, ‘‘Just one more,” she’d say, but that sentence was never true.

And Lewis didn’t mind, either. He would carry around all the books in the library for her if it meant seeing her this happy and excited whenever she finds a book with an intriguing plot or by her favorite authors.

So when her birthday season arrived, the first thing Lewis thought was to build her a bookshelf.

He spent days up late at night and the weekend building it; the instructions had confused him and he was unable to handle it most of the time.

Meanwhile Y/N was spending her weekend confused on the couch all alone, wondering why Lewis kept canceling plans. Was he getting bored of her? Sick?

But at the end of the day he’d give her a call and tell her that he loves her, and that somehow made everything better.

On her birthday morning, she woke up to the sound of her phone ringing.

“Curse me for not putting it on silent,” she muttered, reaching for her phone. A smile appeared on her face when she saw Lewis’ name on the phone.

“Morning, love,” she said once she answered the call.

“Good morning, darling - happy birthday!” He laughs.

“Oh, it’s my birthday... I totally forgot... but thank you!” She retorted, giggling.

“Okay now I need you to be ready in twenty minutes; I’ll pass by and pick you up,” he explains. She agrees and gets out of bed, taking a quick shower and changing into more presentable clothes rather than her fluffy cartoon pajamas.

Just as she was brushing her hair, Lewis sent her a text, saying that he had arrived. She finished brushing it as fast as possible and ran to the door, to be met by a very smiley - and handsome - Lewis.

“You look stunning,” he smiled, engulfing her into a huge hug. She laughed and looked up at him.

“So are you,” she replied. He gave her a kiss and they made their way to his car, getting in.

“So, where are we going?” She asked.

“My place,”

She nodded in response. The drive was silent, but the two of them were happy to be in each other’s presences that they didn’t really mind the silence they were in.

Once they arrived at Lewis’ house, he got out and, being the gentleman he is, opened the door for Y/N and helped her out of the car. She smiled at his little gesture.

“Okay, so, I wanted to show you two things...” he trailed off. Y/N nodded, as if to tell him continue your sentence.

“Um, let me just- come with me to the study, yeah?” Y/N took his hand and walked with him towards the study. She was about to open the door before he pulled her hand away gently.

“Nope, I want it to be a surprise,” he said, putting his hands on her eyes to cover them.

“Okay...” She laughed. He slowly opened the door and walked her to the bookshelf, before slowly taking his hands off her eyes.

She took a few moments to adjust and comprehend, and when she did, she gasped happily, clapping her hands.

“Is this- is this for me?” She asked. He nodded and laughed as she squealed.

She went and admired the bookshelf; allowing her hands to trail down the corners. Once done, she looked back at him and jumped into his arms.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Lewis. This is lovely, thank you,” she repeated. He smiled and hugged her tightly, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“You deserve it, my love,” he whispered into her ear.

They stood like that for a bit, before he slowly let go and cleared his throat.

“Well, Y/N... I was wondering, I’ll just put this very simply, I was wondering if you wanted to move in with me? Obviously, you can say no, but I feel so safe and happy whenever I’m around you and waking up next to the same bed as you brings me so much joy, and I’d love for that to happen everyday,” he blurted out, looking at the floor.

For a few moments there was silence, and Lewis looked up at Y/N, only to be met by a kiss from her. A very passionate and loving one.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she smiled, kissing him again.

“So, is that a yes?”

“Absolutely,”

He kissed her. Again, and again, and again.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said when they pulled away. She brought her hand up to rest on his cheek and stroked it.

“I love you too, Lewis.”

hope you liked this one!! as always, please don’t be a ghost reader <333 thank you!

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x you #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #mercedes

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mckinlily · 2 years

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I kinda really want a de-aged au where Jason “No More Dead Robins” Todd has to deal with all his brothers when they were first joining the Bat/Wayne family and has to try (and consistently fail) to keep them from becoming Robin.

Like there’s some random magic user who casts a spell for [hand wave plot necessitated reason here] and Jason is just chillin doing his Red Hood thing, but when the spell starts to take affect, Bruce is off world on some League mission so Jason ends up having to handle it all on his own.

First to show up is Dick. Or rather, tiny, grieving, baby Dick. Jason’s first surprise is that baby!Dick isn’t the cheerful, happy, carefree kid Jason always assumed he had to be. No, tiny Dick is angry. He’s bitter and snappish and hell bent on finding—and killing—his parents’ murderer. At first Jason is selfishly pleased to find out Golden Boy wasn’t quite so golden after all and encourages getting vengeance, take that, Bruce! This only lasts like a day, though, because Jason realizes, feelings about the One Rule and his personal moral code aside, encouraging a nine year old to kill is seriously messed up.

So Jason’s next step his to take Dick back to his second favorite safe house and tell him to stay put while he tracks down whatever/whoever did this to Nightwing and fix it.

This plan hits a snag because guess what tiny, nine year old Dick does not do? Tiny Dick does not believe Jason when he says he’s his brother from the future. Tiny Dick doesn’t care if he is in the future. He’s still going to find his parents’ killer and end him. Some guy with a weird helmet isn’t going to stop him. Jason discovers this when he runs across tiny Dick leaping between buildings in Crime Alley while on patrol.

Jason drags him back to the safe house and locks all the doors and windows. He runs across tiny Dick again three blocks later. He returns Dick to the safe house. Dick is out again in less than an hour. How is this possible?! Jason is Bat and League trained, he knows how to secure a location, how can he not contain ONE (1) small circus child?!?!!

And yet. Dick keeps escaping. He has tentatively accepted that he isn’t in his time and his parents’ murderer isn’t around at this time for him to confront. But this has only led him to the conclusion that he needs to help Jason fix this so he can go back to him own time and get his revenge. No, Jason cannot stop him.

(Really. Jason can not stop him. Jason is starting to wonder if the creation of Robin was much less Batman taking on a child solider as his partner and much more a desperate attempt to keep eyes on an insane child escape artist.)

Then baby Tim shows up.

Baby Tim has noticed that Batman has not been around and that Jason seems to be acting in his stead. Baby Tim has concerns. Baby Tim’s solution to this is to confront Jason—the six foot two jacked man with guns as baby Tim helpfully (accusingly) points out—and demand to know his relationship with Batman. Jason is so flabbergasted, he spends twenty minutes splutter-shouting at Tim about self-preservation and acceptable risk and ends up bundling up the kid in blankets in the spare room and ordering him to take a nap. And then locks himself in his own room to scream to himself about eleven year olds who sneak into Crime Alley to confront crime lords with guns.

Jason also maybe tells (demands) baby Tim to never, ever become Robin when he wakes up (and goes straight for the coffee. Good to know some things never change). Tim seems a little baffled, eyes going wide at the suggestion that he could be Robin and oh, whoops, Jason just accidentally gave him ideas, didn’t he? Luckily, Tim listens and agrees to home.

(Or at least, so Jason believes.)

Meanwhile, Dick has gone off on his own again. He not going to wait on adults to get back to his own time. And Jason left his notes open on his computer anyway. Jason is only sort-maybe-totally panicking by the time he tracks own his older-turned-much-younger brother in the worst part of Gotham. How did a tiny child get so far on his own?!

Finally acknowledging that he won’t outclass his stupid golden older brother even when he’s nine years old, the ass, can’t he let Jason have this one thing?!, Jason talks Dick into sticking with him to solve the issue. Jason tells himself it’s because he can be persuasive and charming when he wants to be. He’s pretty sure it’s actually because tiny Dick doesn’t trust him to share relevant information if he isn’t right there with him. Whatever. At this point, if it keeps the tiny terror in his sight, he’ll take it.

Jason does insist on getting Dick decent gear if he’s going to follow Red Hood through the streets Gotham (How did Jason get to this point?! He can’t be becoming Bruce. He REFUSES. He blames this angry gremlin child—who just smiled at him and it was like seeing the sun for the first time after winter, and what the hell is wrong with him?!?). Jason figures they’ll drop by the Batcave and snag one of Damien’s first costumes. Jason finds out where the original Robin name came from. There are tears. Jason will not admit they weren’t just Dick’s

(Oh, is that was Nightwing threw such a fit when Jason first put on the Robin suit? Jason thinks he owes him an apology or two for the grudge he’s held over that. Also Bruce deserves a good punch to the face.)

Eventually the tears are temporarily on hold, but Dick refuses to wear any of Damien or even Tim’s old suits. Jason gives in and tries to get him to at least wear darker colors. Dick refuses. Jason tries to get him to wear pants. Dick still refuses. Jason doesn’t understand how he’s losing an argument with a nine year old, but he is. Badly.

(Somewhere, Bruce is laughing at him, Jason just knows it. He owes Batman so many punches.)

So now Red Hood is somewhat desperately tracking down the rogue spell caster with a brightly colored shadow that is alternating between impish laughter and moods so dark it worries Jason. He really needs to get his big brother back. He’s patting himself on the back for at least keeping Tim out of this…

When he finds out Tim’s version of “don’t become Robin” is to follow them around as a civilian with nothing but a camera. He hasn’t changed clothes since Jason last saw him and his questions about where he’s been are disturbingly evasive. Jason abruptly remembers that eleven year old Tim didn’t live at the Manor yet and with the status of Drake Manor now—Jason’s questions become more desperate. Tim’s answers become more worryingly evasive.

Ok, so now Jason two reckless, de-aged baby brothers to keep track of. This time, it only take five instances of Tim climbing out a window (he swears baby Dick is giving him hints, the dick) for Jason to throw the kid into a bulletproof suit (at least this one agrees to pants) and dragging him along with them.

By the time Damien arrives, (even more) bitty and murderous, Jason throws the towel in. Somehow Dickface transformed the murder gremlin into a semi-functional human being by making him Robin, so Jason shoves a suit at him, makes up some bullshit about “right of passage” and “earning a place next to Batman”, and lays down the rules of being Robin. Namely, no killing. Jason doesn’t know how he became the one enforcing the No Killing rule but 1) He really doesn’t want to deal with getting stabbed by the Demon Brat and 2) They’re…kids. And no, Jason isn’t changing his moral code. Some people need to die, and he stands by that. But… But he doesn’t want kids doing the killing. Taking a life is heavy, and he doesn’t want his brothers to have to carry that. Not now.

…Maybe not even ever.

(Is that what Batman and Nightwing—? No. Nope. Shutting that down. Not examining that.)

Good news is that Damien does follow the no kill rule, and there are not attempted murder attempts. Damnit, Dickface was right, baby-baby Damien does bleed a need for acceptance in the most stabby and murderous way possible. Underneath the snobbery and death glares, he is desperately trying to meet all Jason’s expectations. Doesn’t mean he isn’t still an incredibly difficult kid.

And while Jason has the sense, or at least self-preservation instincts, not to try to keep this on in the house (by this point, he’s grudgingly moved to staying at the Manor and begged Alfred’s assistance and home-cooked food), Red Hood is still out in the field with three baby Robins. Damien is certainly most trained and best equipped of the three and, theoretically, in least amount a danger. But he also keeps diving into conflict, sometimes in fights that Jason hadn’t even intended to be involved with, out of some combination of pride and misguided belief that leaping into outnumbered fights will lead to a closer chance to meet his dad.

(And the reasoning behind that doesn’t make Jason sad. It doesn’t.)

Jason lasts maybe two days before he’s breaking out the emergency communication and calling Bruce to come home and manage his Robins. Jason’s message left on the Justice League servers are 90% swear words and death threats and he probably landed himself back on some sort of watch list again, but he needs to make sure Bruce drops the damn mission and comes home right now.

(Jason doesn’t know it and wouldn’t believe it if he did, but Bruce would come home if Jason asked for help with a paper cut. It’s his son and Jason. Coming to him. For help. For all his faults and mistakes with Jason, all Bruce ever wanted was to help his son.)

Bruce zetas home immediately, and Jason has the satisfaction of seeing Bruce isn’t actually all that more effective at keeping his actively insane brother out of the field either. Bruce does have experience with his sons at this age though and, though he can’t keep them from Robin-ing, is at least better at getting through to them in other ways at these ages than Jason. He, with the help Alfred (it’s mostly Alfred, tbh), manage to wrangle the tinies enough that Batman and Red Hood can make a break for it to take down the rogue magic user.

(Bruce may have pulled in a LOT of League resources to find them. For the sake of his second son’s clearly-frazzled sanity.)

Once everyone is back to normal, Jason maybe nearly cries when adult!Dick immediately jumps in to mediate whatever argument/fight that Tim and Damien promptly starts up. He definitely embarrasses himself by hugging his older brother when he’s back to his cheerful, adult self. “We are never talking about this, Dickface. Never.”

Dick is too busy cooing over Jason being “such a good big brother!” to listen. Jason shoves him at the Demon Brat because he is DONE with being responsible for crazy preteens and Dick deserves it after the hell baby him put him through for the last week and change. Tim makes a beeline for the Batcomputer, already rambling about all the cases he dropped while he was inadvertently transformed into his younger self, clearly entering a hyper fixation fugue state and Jason will have yank him out of it in—

Wait. No. That’s Bruce’s problem now. Jason is not getting involved.

(Keep telling yourself that, says a voice in his head that sounds annoyingly like Dick. Jason kindly tells it to fuck off.)

Bruce is hovering in that “I want to talk to you about something but would also rather have all the bones violently ripped from my body than express that with words” way, and normally Jason would rather remove his molars with a crowbar (yeah, that crowbar) than be alone with Bruce when he gets like that. But after over a week of being responsible for increasingly insane baby Robins, Bruce’s company is honestly the most preferable and isn’t that sad.

But then Bruce opens his mouth like he’s actually going to say something, possibly something infuriating like “thank you for looking out for your brothers” and Jason can’t have that, so he starts yelling. It starts something like "What were you thinking making kids Robin?!” and “How couldn’t you stop them?!” and “WERE THEY ALL THIS INSANE!?!!”

The answer is yes, yes, they were. Bruce is only slightly amused by Jason’s reaction to what has been, for nearly twenty years now, his daily life.

After Jason has yelled most his stress out and been assured, yes, this is just the normal response to children, what the hell, Bruce says something like, “it was the same with you.”

Jason’s death glare would be more effective if he didn’t pull it out every time he talked to Bruce. As it is, Bruce is remarkably unaffected. And even goes on to add, “Robin was how I convinced you to stay.”

And Jason would love to deny it, yell at Bruce and remain blind, but he’s exhausted and drained and just completed a crash course in yeah, kids are really fucking hard, actually.

And thing is…he remembers. He remembers being a street kid suddenly taken in by Batman. He remembers being scared and cold and hungry and having no understanding of what kindness meant. No comprehension of the idea of someone who would simply want to help. For nothing in return. Being Robin—it gave him a reason. A purpose and job to tell, to tell himself he was earning his keep, to keep his mind from jumping to other, so much worse uses for a young boy.

It does fix everything. Jason isn’t magically slotted perfect back into the family. He’s still mad at Bruce for a whole laundry list of things. But for the first time… maybe putting kids in costumes to fight crime still was an irresponsible, crazy, stupid thing to do. But it wasn’t like Jason was able to do any better.

Turns out his brothers are just really fucking insane, actually.

Guess that’s what made them family.

#batfamily #whoops I wrote a thing #jason being dragged kicking and screaming towards realizations about his family?#or something #mckinlily writes: batfam fic

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utilitycaster · 4 months

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If you had to make an elevator pitch for people deciding about watching Midst, what would you say? I’m seeing more and more talk about it but I feel like I don’t have a good idea of its plot/genre/tone still.

Honestly I still think my suggestion here is best: listen to the first three episodes. They are a little over an hour in total and free, and it's a podcast so you can do it while doing chores or something if you're really worried about spending an hour of time doing something you might not like. That will establish genre, tone, main characters, and even a core element of the overarching plot better than I can for minimal investment.

I feel like the Midst elevator pitch on its actual website is the best one:

Midst is an immersive, semi-improvised, sci-fantasy podcast recounted by a trio of playfully omniscient, mysterious, and unreliable narrators. Engage your imagination in this highly original setting using a unique storytelling style, distinctive audio, and lightly animated visual accompaniments to help ground you in this bizarre, space-western world.

Like, that gives you the genre (sci-fantasy/space-western; the mention of bizarre is accurate and I'd throw in a 'new weird' if the combo of science fantasy and space western didn't tip you off), and the tone (three playfully omniscient unreliable narrators).

As for plot, if I had to give it in the briefest of terms: a small frontier planet is sold to a society in which virtue and wealth are considered the same thing, and then disaster immediately strikes. Season 1 is the world-building and lead-in; Season 2 is the fallout.

#answered #Anonymous #midst podcast

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aboutiroh · 5 months

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I'm not sure if this is something that has been discussed before, but the pacing of book 3 has always bothered me a little (not enough to consider the writing as less than phenomenal, but still). There's actually a few things that I think could have been handled better and I just grouped them under 'pacing issues' as an umbrella term, even though it's not always the most fitting term. Most of these aren't even really issues, but just my personal preference.

For instance, I always thought it's a pity we didn't get more episodes with the Gaang after Zuko joined the team. I love the fieldtrip episodes, but we barely got to see team avatar travelling together (and Toph didn't even get a fieldtrip!). There's a lot of untapped potential there and we're free to explore that ourselves of course, but having more canon storylines would've been nice and I think it wasn't impossible. (This is a segue into issue nr. 1):

Book 3 spends too much time preparing for the invasion.

The Gaang spends half a season to prepare for the invasion (they mostly just travel to the meeting point). This makes no sense to me as we, the viewers, know that Azula knows all about it (as King Kuei so nicely tells her about those plans in 2x19 "The Guru"). (Which btw, he could have mentioned to the Gaang after learning that Azula was not a Kyoshi warrior, but I'll let that slide as Kuei is canonically a useless person).

They build up towards a fight that we know is doomed to fail and that on itself is okay, but that moment could've happened earlier in the season (not so early that Zuko doesn't have the time to finally understand what his destiny truly is). If the invasion failed earlier in the season, Zuko (and Suki) would have joined earlier. Many episodes in early book 3 could easily take place after the invasion (thinking of "The painted lady" or "The puppetmaster", maybe(?) "Sokka's master" and "The runaway", though some elements would have needed altering, e.g. the Sparky Sparky Boom Man subplot (I say we get rid of it entirely)).

Conversely, there's one episode, or rather conflict, that should have occurred before the invasion. (Segue to issue nr. 2!):

2. What even was the invasion plan, really?

After the invasion fails, we learn during a beach party that the Fire Lord is planning to literally burn the entire world when the comet arrives, so the Gaang's new plan of discretely hiding and training until the comet passes turns out to be pretty pointless. Aang suddenly has to face the Fire Lord much earlier and more importantly, when Ozai's at his most powerful, which is less than ideal. So the combat training recommences. It is at this point that Aang suddenly realizes he's not willing to kill Ozai. He's of course right to feel conflicted about it, and it's understandable that his friends don't completely understand just how important this is for him. It's a necessary and significant moment in the show, but it's just strange that they haven't had the discussion before.

Aang knows he has to defeat the Fire Lord pretty early on. Throughout book 1 and book 2 he's preoccupied with learning to bend the elements (when he's not riding animals or escaping imprisonment or facing whatever other problem the plot throws his way). It's too early to think about the technicalities of what that defeat exactly entails because priorities, I totally get it. But by book 3, they have a pretty elaborate plan to invade the Royal Palace. It's just never explained how they will defeat the Fire Lord. Hakoda explains the plan as follows:

The eclipse only lasts eight minutes, not enough time for the whole invasion. And the Royal Palace is heavily guarded by firebenders. So that's where we'll need the eclipse's advantage the most. When this is finished, the Avatar will have defeated the Fire Lord. We will have control of the Fire Nation capital, and this war will be over!

Assuming the plan was not to kill Ozai (because Aang would have felt conflicted about that), how exactly would Aang defeat the Fire Lord in those eight minutes? Was he just supposed to knock him unconscious and then immediately put him in a cooler cell? If that's the case, I didn't see them carry one around. Aang had thought about the possibility of not coming back from the battle (as he tells Katara just before leaving), so it would only make sense for him to consider the possibility that it could be Ozai who would not make it out alive because of him.

#avatar: the last airbender #atla #iroh’s content and comments #i rarely ever make posts like this #but i really wanted the voice these... considerations #maybe this is something everyone already agrees on and i'm just late to the party #but in my experience book 3 is really popular #and deservedly so #but it could have been better #and by better i mean more adapted to my personal taste

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theresattrpgforthat · 1 year

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THEME: Revolution

This week’s games have to do with rising up against oppression and tyranny! A very important note: while the tone and tenor of the following games vary in severity, it is a good idea to use safety tools for your table when running these kinds of games, as it is easy to fall into territory that can be uncomfortable to your players. I recommend you check out tools such as the X Card, by John Stavropoulos, and Lines & Veils, by Ron Edwards.

When the Guilds Pay in Copper, Crime Pays In Gold, by Andrew J. Young.

Ostentia is a city of wealth, magic, and incredible disparity. The city's alchemy guilds hold all the power, with squads of street-level enforcers and an army of mercenaries playing the guilds off each other. The common folk are hired by the guilds to serve in alchemy rituals, draining life from their bodies, paying them their purse of coppers, and sending them home until the next day.

What the city needs is a revolution, but the best you can do is retribution. And distribution. Thwart the guilds' exploitative plots and steal as much gold as you can. And when the job is done, go back to your family, friends, and familiar haunts. Spend your gold to improve your character and use downtime to help your community.

When the Guilds Pay in Copper, Crime Pays in Gold is a two-page tabletop RPG designed to be played with 2 or more players, one of whom should take on the role of a Story Guide to facilitate scene setup and NPC actions and dialogue.When the Guilds Pay in Copper, Crime Pays in Gold's system uses dice pool mechanics with d6s.

If you’re interested in Blades in the Dark but want less pre-defined setting, less rules, and more magic, you might want to check this game out. The players of this game are fighting back against guilds using underhanded methods, but the gold they manage to steal goes into community help, rather than a retirement plan. If you want to hit the bourgeoisie where it hurts without having to read too many rules, and if you want a lighter feel to your game, you might want to check this game out.

And You Shall Shatter Temples, by Anna Landin.

They may be gods, but you are done being faithful.It's time to burn their kingdom down.

Sing songs with the words they could not take from you. Raise the banner woven from the flags you stole back from them. Arm yourself with the swords you forged from their discarded bones.

And You Shall Shatter Temples is a game about rising up against an overwhelming power that is trying to crush you. All you have is what you carry with you, and those who rise up by your side. Together, you can turn the tide. Together, you can dethrone a god.

This is a GM-less game that uses playing cards and d6s to help determine what you do and where the story goes. The main premise is that there are gods, but you get to decide what kind of world they have ruined, and how you bring them to their knees. The game brings you through three stages, with each stage bringing you closer and closer to dethroning a god. The creator offers the text-only version for free, and encourages that you support real-world causes that fight oppression instead!

Hunting Billionaires for Sport, by Vex Chat-Blanc.

It's exactly 1 year since people first started hunting billionaires for sport. In that time the sport has grown at an extraordinary rate, giving rise to both the Extrajudicial Means Distribution Union and Nero.tv. Nations around the world have enacted a total ban on firearms and ammunition sales, as well as dedicated buyback schemes for existing guns. Science and arts have seen a simultaneous market boon, and their advances have integrated seamlessly into daily life. Welcome to 2023.

A game for 1 session runner and 2-5 hunters. It's easy to pick up, simple to explain, provides a quick reference sheet for those new to the rules. It contains interesting and variable character advancement, and a progressive and gentle introduction to more advanced rules. World-building, character background, collaborative action, and character retirement are all tied together mechanically.

If you want to see a game where Billionaires’ greed is what allows for the revenge of the masses, this is the game for you. The setting is incredibly tongue-in-cheek, and the characters are both powerful and competent. Character skills are classified as either Limelight (flashy) or Lowlight (concealed), and can be Active, Passive, or Reactive. You’ll also have Beats that drive your character forward and tie you into the fiction, as celebrities on a high-profile streaming service. If you like the idea of turning modern capitalism back onto itself, this might be the game for you!

Compromise / / Empire, by Swamphen.

The forces of the Empire, the forces of totalitarianism and exploitation, are invading. They have secured a foothold, and want complete control. Their soldiers trample the land, their spies and diplomats are in your places of power, time is limited.

You represent a faction. One of the factions who are working to resist the Empire. As a representative you must extend a hand and form whatever alliances you can with the other factions at play. Resisting the Empire will cost you, and your faction. Compromises must be made.

Compromise//Empire is a GMless roleplaying game for 2-3 players about forming temporary alliances and resisting empire. Each player takes the role of a faction forced into an unlikely alliance. You must represent your agenda while making compromises to fight against the forces of empire.

This is another game that allows you to decide exactly what kind of world you’d like to play in. Crises will arise over the course of the game, and you will attempt to find a solution that makes you and your allies happy. Success is not guaranteed in this game - you may find a way to work together, but your plans may also fall apart. If there is a setting or game you’d like to set-up for, this is an excellent option!

Voidheart Symphony, by UFO Press.

here’s a wound in the world, a rot eating at hope and community and empathy. You’ve seen it in dark alleyways and gleaming boardrooms, gifting terrible power to those who will use it to hurt others. You’ve had enough. You’re going to dive through that wound into the nightmare castle on the other side. You’re going to find the avatar of the one bringing you misery, and strike them down.

But what’s next, once you’ve stolen their power and ruined their ambitions? Will you return to your daily grind? Cherish those who are close to you? Or revel in the power you have taken from the void? Because within that wound, the castle waits, and it is hungry.

Voidheart Symphony is a tabletop roleplaying game about mundane people diving into a demon-filled labyrinth to save the ones they love. Based on Apocalypse Worldand Rhapsody of Blood, it’ll fill your story with dramatic choices and dynamic action. Your rebels each have a core strength – they may be an Authority, a Provider, a Watcher. But your enemy is far too great for you to face alone.

If you’re interested in the Persona series, this game is probably up your alley. Shadowy powers lurk behind everyday folks, and your rebellion may not ever make it to the front page. You are heroes behind the scenes, fighting for the freedom of folks who may never know to thank you. If you like the idea of being unsung heroes in the modern day, you should check this game out!

Spire: The City Must Fall, by Rowan, Rook & Decard.

Spire is a mile-high impossible city, older than anyone can remember. Two hundred years ago, the high elves – or aelfir, strange and beautiful masked creatures from the far north – took it from the dark elves by force. Now, they graciously allow dark elves, or drow, to live in the city if they perform four years of service to an aelfir lord once they come of age. Spire is crumbling from within and without; it is ancient, and has been built and rebuilt countless times, and at the centre of the mass there is a jagged, weeping hole in reality called the Heart. It is a nightmarish, dizzying place of perverse luxury and widespread destitution, where drow labourers toil in vast gardens and sweltering factories to produce treasures for their masters.

Spire is a roleplaying game about desperate revolutionary dark elves caught up in a secret war against the high elves, or aelfir, who rule the towering city of Spire. The world of Spire is a brutal one, and players can expect to see their characters suffer at the hands of their oppressors, or their rivals; bodily harm, psychological scarring and reprisals against their allies are commonplace. But for those willing to do what it takes, Spire is on the brink of full-scale rebellion, and you are poised to push it over the edge.

This game uses a D10 system that uses dice pools to determine success - the highest number indicates whether or not you are successful, and how successful you are. The rebellion in this game is dark and vicious; the characters are pushed to do terrifying things in the name of death, vindication, and revenge. This is a fantasy game through and through, but make sure to bring some safety tools to the table, as a game of Spire can easily turn bloody and grim.

If you are interested in this setting but want a game about dungeon-delving instead, you can try Heart: The City Beneath, by the same company.

Previously advertised games that fit this theme:

Balikbayan: Cyberpunk Elementals escaping enslavement. Brinkwood: Brigands fighting against Vampires. Rising Tide: Eco-Justice pirates hitting Corporations at sea.

#game recommendations #eat the rich #dnd #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #revolution

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aro-geo-turtle · 1 year

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TMA’s narrative structure and its reflection in character dynamics

With the end of @a-mag-a-day, I though it would be a perfect time to post this meta-analysis I’ve been thinking about for ages! Its always fun when a story’s ending wraps back around to its beginning in some way, and TMA dips into this a tiny bit via the “can I have a cigarette” moment, but I think the wider narrative structure and parallels in TMA actually get way more interesting than that. Long rambly analysis below cause I’m a writing nerd, and also remember this is purely my own personal interpretation.

I have three main points to make here.

A: season 4 is a twisted mirror of seasons 1 and 2, which act as a singular narrative unit, while season 5 is just like season 3 but more so in every way.

B: these parallels and mirrors between seasons are symbolized through Jon and Martin’s ever changing relationship.

C: the grand finale of Last Words feels like such an abrupt ending because it breaks the pattern established for how season finales are meant to work.

So let’s look at this chronologically:

Seasons 1 and 2 can be viewed a single unit in the overall narrative structure. They follow the same basic premise: Jon in his office at the Institute, alienated from his 3 assistants, trying to find out the truth about the supernatural. They both have a very slow pace, with only a handful of plot-furthering episodes among mostly world-building statement episodes. Then we have a cliffhanger leading into an action-packed climax, and then a calmer epilogue episode to clarify exactly what just happened and set up the new status quo for the next season. There are obviously differences (added supplementals, the paranoia, Gertrude’s murder, you know), but they follow the same general format. We also see the classic Jon/Martin dynamic established and shared between these two seasons: Martin reaching out to care for Jon, Jon rejecting and pushing him away.

Season 3: Status quo? Out the window! Jon’s out of the Institute, traveling the world, we’re gone from the traditional 3 assistants to 4. The goal is no longer vaguely learning about the supernatural, we got most of those answers from Leitner. Instead we’re building towards the Unknowing from the very beginning. And the pacing here speeds up dramatically. So much happens, plot moving forward most episodes. This is where Jon and Martin’s dynamic first changes, too, finally becoming a lot more friendly. Some parts of the format stay the same, though. The ending is still made up of high-action climax episodes followed by an epilogue episode to set up the next status quo.

Season 4 is a return to the format of 1 and 2, but all twisted and reversed. Jon is in his office at the Institute, alienated from his 3 assistants, but it’s a totally different set of assistants (Tim, Sasha, Martin to Melanie, Basira, Daisy). We’re back to the slower pace, but after the mile-a-minute speed of S3, it feels agonizingly slow, a waiting game. The characters spend a lot of time sitting around. We know how the supernatural works, and now Jon’s looking for answers on what he’s meant to do about it. Of course, S4 also sees the reversal of Jon and Martin’s early season roles. Now it’s Jon reaching out and Martin rejecting him. And then we hit the finale and the tension that’s built up all season suddenly snaps. Once again, it’s a high-action climax followed by a slower epilogue that sets up season 5.

Season 5 is obviously the biggest status quo change of all. Literally all the rules of the normal world are shattered. It’s season 3 but even more so. We’re not at the Institute (there is no Institute), we don’t have the typical 3 assistants (that role doesn’t really seem to exist anymore). Like with the Unknowing, we have a clear goal from the very start: get to the Panopticon, kill Jonah, bring the world back. While the pace of 3 is rapid-fire, 5 is a steady march forward, episode by episode. Jon and Martin are once again friendly, and even more so, have finally connected and realized their feelings. And then we get to the grand finale. I think the reason the ending feels so abrupt to me and many others is because it finally breaks the format of season finales. Last Words is the action-packed climax episode but it has no epilogue episode. It just ends.

So, yeah! Those are my points. I just find looking at this all very cool.

#Tma #tma meta #the magnus archives

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qqueenofhades · 9 months

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what would you say are the best parts of fanfiction as a type of a written work? (if, theoretically speaking, someone has been writing&worldbuilding an AU so far from the original thing that with a few minor tweaks they could make it into a pretty much original text - not to publish for money, Ao3 has an original work fandom, it could go there - it's, uh, what would you say are good reasons to keep it a fanfic? what are good reasons to not?)

The main thing about fanfiction is that it relies upon re-contextualizing, reworking, or otherwise drawing directly on the readers' knowledge of a pre-existing work, using that work's characters, plot, and universe. As such, when you're writing fanfiction, you don't need to spend tons of time introducing the personalities, conflicts, settings, etc; that is already built in, your readers are expecting you to pick it up and go, and part of the narrative conceit or overall plot can rest on how it's similar to, diverging from, or totally separate from the canon universe (as in the case of AUs). Because you're writing in response to another text, you're performing a dialogue with something else, and that's why most fanfiction needs some amount of reworking in order to contain its own story without reference to another intellectual property, because you're using pre-built parts instead of making your own.

However, as someone who also tends to write long, plotty AUs with extensive worldbuilding beyond and quite separate from canon (and various original characters), I know that it's fairly easy to just change a few names and plot details and have a basically original work. Which at that point it is! You've done the work to develop your own angle of the story, there is a ton of published stuff out there that is either thinly reworked fanfic or inspired by fanfic or based on another very similar premise, and there's no reason you shouldn't throw your own hat into the ring and see what happens. What you have to do if converting it into original fiction, aside from changing the names, is checking to see if it holds up as its own narrative without reference to another text. That might mean filling out character backstory/motivations, plot points, events, major conflicts, romantic relationships, or anything else that is taken as assumed in a fic and will need to be strengthened in order to make the story work as its own entity. If you're writing an AU where Blorbo A and Blorbo B fall in love in a space opera, you have the readers' implicit knowledge of those characters and their dynamics already, and the fun comes from transposing that to a new setting/universe. You can obviously use that to develop the original characters, but you also have to be aware of where you need to draw something out, or rework something, so that a reader not familiar with the source material (i.e. whatever you based your fic on) can get it.

You can also take the premise of a fic and rewrite/rework it as an original novel. I'm doing that right now with The Key of Solomon, which has one of my favorite plots in my own fics, but rather than just changing the names in the existing work, I'm reworking a lot, setting it in a different world, adding new characters and plotlines, building out more lore and history, etc., and it will not go the way fic-TKOS currently goes, because the core of this story is about something different/involves a different set of thematic conflicts and character arcs. (And yes, I am excited about it.) This is the sort of stuff that I discovered by just poking around with the premise, throwing some outline + worldbuilding notes in a Word doc, and starting to write and see what happened. In other words, there are a lot of ways you can rework or redo your existing work, which published authors do all the time, and if you're wondering how to restructure your story on its own terms and not as a derivative of another story, a comprehensive dismantle and rebuild might be a good idea in any case. Take your AU setting, your renamed characters, your tweaked plot, etc, and start writing it from scratch, as that will give you the best sense of how it holds together and where there are the most useful opportunities to change and expand. Because of how writing works, you will usually then understand more about what you want to do with it and what makes it compellingly different from where it started.

Likewise, if you DO want to make money off it/self-publish it on Amazon or wherever/look for a traditional-publishing agent and deal, that is completely fine. Because the "You Cannot Monetize Fanworks" thing is drilled into us so deeply, it can sometimes be viewed as a bad thing if you, as an artist, want to actually make money off your art and creative labor. It's not a bad thing! So don't feel like you have to disclaim any intention to publish it for money or think that it's only a "good" work if you don't do that. You can indeed put it on AO3 as an original work if all you want is for people to read it and enjoy it, which is the main pleasure from fic; you're an amateur writing in your spare time for other amateurs/fans to enjoy out of the love of sharing the story and characters. But if you do want to make it into something that you intend on selling for real-people money (as hey, I will explore in some fashion when the above project is finished), it doesn't make you A Dirty Capitalist or Less of an Artist or whatever the latest nonsensical Tumblr groupthink wants you to think. So while what you do with it is up to you, you can 100% pursue publication for money if you want to. (After all, aren't we all big fans of Pay Artists/Writers Appropriately For Their Work? Yeah.)

Anyway, what this all boils down to is whether you want to keep it as a fic just because you like it that way, and how much work you feel like doing in transforming it into an original story. I have plenty of fics where I have done enough AU/world-building/extra characters that it would be very easy to change the names and call it a day, but I haven't, because I wrote them as fics and I like them that way. But then, as noted above, I have also started developing an original project out of something that I first wrote as an AU fic, because I liked the idea and wanted to explore it with a different twist/set of characters/universe. So yeah, it's a matter of personal preference and what you then want to do with the finished result (i.e. just post it on AO3 or pursue publication and financial return from it), and either way, it's up to you. If you have a feeling that you want to develop it as an original story in whatever way, hence why you're asking me this question, then I say you should do that. You can always put it aside or try something else if the conversion isn't working, but if it does, hey! More things to explore! So do it and have fun.

#anonymous #ask #writing advice

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sissytobitch10seconds · 6 months

Text

Birdsong: Ribs

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone (TV) Summary: Wylan is kicking himself in the ass for being as late as he was. He knew that his partners had to be worried, it was almost three hours after he sat that he would be home, after all. It seems as thought the world is determined to make him even later than ever when he hears something in the parking lot near his work. Warnings: Physical assault, mentions of canon-typical grooming/child abuse, and blood Word Count: 10,501 Ship(s): Nina Zenik/Wylan Van Eck/Jesper Fahey/Matthias Helvar/Inej Ghafa/Kaz Brekker

Archive link!

A/N: At the time of writing this, I had not read the books so a lot of the plot was still pulled from the show. I've now finished the book but I don't want to rewrite the whole series so I'm editing some things as I go. If you notice inconsistencies from here on out that's why! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Wylan winced as the door to his lab shut harder than he had meant it to. He had gotten so wrapped up in the work that he had been doing, finally hitting the breakthrough that he had been searching for, that he hadn’t noticed how late it had gotten. He tried to make sure that he was home no later than six so that he could eat with his partners before Kaz had to go oversee the opening of the Crow Club. Inej often had a call time around seven as well, so it killed two birds with one stone to be home before they left. That way he knew that he had at least one in person interaction with them each day, since they were usually asleep when he woke.

He had broken the rule that he had made with himself by working over what his normal limit was. He didn’t break the rule often, maybe once or twice a year. A lot of the time when he was working in the lab, he was running the same experiment over and over again, which was so monotonous that he would often skip out on a test or two that he could have run that day in favor of doing it the next day instead. It was worse when he was writing his reports, since he had to speak slowly to his speech-to-text program so that he could get it written up faster than it would take him to try and type everything. Spellcheck was a godsend, but reading and writing were so much harder for him than they were for everyone else that he worked with.

Today he had been so wrapped up in the new breakthrough that they had made, that he had totally forgotten to keep track of the time. He had been mumbling down ideas into the notepad app on his phone the entire day so that none of the ideas would escape him. By the time that he had looked up again, ripped from his thoughts as he realized that he was famished, all of his coworkers were gone and the building had been darkened.

Wylan had finished cleaning up the lab and then locked the building as quickly as he felt he could while still being responsible so that he could go home. He hurried towards the parking lot that he had found a spot in that morning after running a little bit behind. That was the annoying thing about working so close to the university campus when school was in session, it resulted in him having to walk two blocks just to get to his car so that he could go home because all the other spots were taken. Still, it meant that they got a lot of student interns so they didn’t have to spend the extra money they were already strapped for, instead just giving them credit for their classes and real world experience.

He tugged his headphones out of his bag and then connected them to his phone as he picked the audiobook that he had been listening to that week. He and Jesper had a mini book club that they participated in, though it was turning into a playful argument about which audiobook producer was the best. Despite the fact that Jesper listened to more podcasts and music than he did audiobooks, he still had very strong opinions about it. Jesper was able to read physical copies even if it was only in short bursts, but Wylan preferred to keep reading as much as he could even with his learning disability, so he tended to plow through the books that they were allegedly reading together.

The soothing voice of the narrator washed over him as he stuck his hands into his pockets and walked down the street towards his car. He was trying to focus on what was being read to him instead of the plan that he was coming up with for the end of the study. He knew that if they made a big breakthrough and patented or sold something, then they’d be able to continue the work that they had been doing in the lab more than they ever expected to. Wylan didn’t look at science as a way of making money necessarily, he would still experiment by himself even if he wasn’t being paid to do it, but this way he could continue to work with the team that he had grown very attached to.

After about only three minutes and half a block, he decided that trying to pay attention to an audiobook just wasn’t going to happen because he was too invested in what he had been working on. Jesper and Matthias were both going to be very pouty when he got home and all he could talk about was work despite being late. At least Kaz would understand, but he’d be at work until midnight at the earliest.

Wylan let out a little put-upon sigh. It was hard to navigate adult relationships, even if the freedom of adulthood was more than worth it. Sometimes he longed for the simplicity that had come with being a teenager, but he was always quick to remind himself how much happier he was now. Even if he had his partners back then, the abuse that his father had put him through would have made him miserable despite the support of the five wonderful people he had met.

Instead, he hummed the song that had been pestering the back of his mind as he walked. Ever since they had actually started going steady with her, Jesper and Matthias had been playing the music from the band that their new girlfriend was in. The artists were very talented and Wylan had to admit that her voice was soothing, but it was still annoying that they were so good at becoming earworms when he was trying to have other thoughts.

He paused when he got to the edge of the parking lot to the bar that was on the other side of the block to his lab building. The area was mostly deserted now that students weren’t using it to get as close to campus as they could, but a few cars were still parked there. It was one of the least popular bars in town (and Wylan wasn’t biased because the Crow Club was becoming busier every day, he assured himself), so there were only about a half dozen vehicles.

What really caught his attention was the scene that was unfolding. There was a man wearing a red and white varsity-style jacket with the last name ‘Kaminsky’ stitched into the back and a pair of blue jeans with a thick brown belt. He was advancing on a woman while shouting at her, “You think that you’re tough shit because you stole Alina away from Aleksander but you’re nothing but a fucking whore!”

“Ivan, you’re drunk, you need to go home,” the woman replied.

Wylan took a step forward so that he could get a better look at her. She had coiled brown hair that was loose around her face and shoulders, which only served to bring out the pronounced jawline and cheekbones of her face. Her lips were soft and pouty, but that was mostly because of the peach colored lipgloss that she was wearing. She had accented eyeliner in pink under the black and rosy cheeks to match the eyeshadow. She was wearing a blue mini skirt that was tucking into a loose black bodice that had sheer puffy sleeves.

Objectively, she was very pretty. Wylan knew that women who were stereotypically attractive tended to get accosted by drunk men a lot, especially since he had begun his queerplatonic relationship with Inej. She had taught him a lot about women that he had never been able to pick up from his step-mother because of their distance. His own mother had disappeared when he was too young to learn about the kinds of things Inej had taught him and come back into his life after he had gotten together with the aforementioned acrobat.

Still, they seemed to know each other so Wylan hung back to let things play their course. He didn’t want to interrupt something and then get shouted at for it, especially when he was already feeling emotionally frayed from working too much that day. He desperately wanted to go home so that he could cuddle with his partners and eat dinner while watching bad TV, but this was important. It was possible that the situation would turn violent and she would need help, but he didn’t want to assume right away.

“You don’t get to talk to me like you know me!” the man screamed. He smashed the beer bottle that had been hanging loosely from his hand down onto the car behind her, which caused a few shards of glass to cut through her freckled skin. Beads of red blood blossomed on the skin and began to dribble down her cheek. She was pinned up against the car, the only other option for her was to move towards the wall which would result in her being trapped from all sides.

Wylan got out his phone and pointed it towards the fight. He had gotten used to doing that a lot when he was a teenager, but he was glad that something had come from that miserable time in his life. Hopefully if things escalated it could actually help the woman.

The woman had finally regained her voice after the sharp cry of panic that she had let out, “Ivan, you know that I don’t control what Alina does! I have nothing to do with the breakup, I just rejoined the band when she said she wanted to start playing again.”

That only provoked the man further instead of de-escalating it like she had no doubt hoped for. “You are the only person that was still allowed to be in contact with her from the old band. I know that you continued the music too. You really think that I’m stupid enough to believe that lie you made up for everyone else?”

“I expect you to be a rational fucking human, but apparently I set my standards too high!” she shouted back at him. “You really think that I single handedly tried to tear down The Fold?” she snarled.

Wylan could hear the fear in her voice as she did so. He took a step forward, preparing to help her if things got more serious, his phone still recording. He could feel her anxiety in his own veins, heart thrumming, lungs gasping for more air, mind racing.

“I think that you’re a traitorous bitch that would do anything to try and ruin the career of a man you hate,” the other man replied. He kept advancing on her, caging her in with his body more and more. He was svelte, thinner than she was, but he was also a couple of inches taller than her. It was made worse based on the fact that she was cowering back against the car that he had pinned her on.

Wylan envied the confidence that took over her features as she pushed up her chest and stood at her full height despite that mostly closing the space between them. She had a fierce look burning in her eyes, one that Wylan would have never been able to summon up if he had been standing in front of his father during one of their fights. Her mouth twisted into a truly feral smirk as she said, “I had nothing to do with the falling of The Fold. I think that you should talk to your precious Darkling about why he tried to sink all of his money into shit lawsuits to get back the girl that he groomed when she finally dumped his ass and took him for all he was worth. Maybe he should have thought before he decided that he didn’t need a prenup.”

That made Ivan snap.

He had swung his arm back and then brought it forward before Wylan even had the time to process what he was doing. The sickening crack that sounded as his fist collided with the woman’s jaw made him cringe. He shoved his phone in his pocket so that the camera was peaking out over the fabric and still recording their conversation as he rushed over. He may have been several inches shorter than the attacker, but two bodies were better than one so there was a good chance that he would actually be of some use when it came to helping her.

“Leave her alone!”

“Stay out of this,” Ivan replied.

The woman was bent over slightly, slumped against the car. She was supporting herself with one of her hands so that she wouldn’t fall over and holding her cheek with the other. One side was still dripping blood down her forehead so that it streaked the rest of her face and the other side was no doubt going to be blooming with a dark bruise based on the sound alone.

“You know, I don’t think that I will,” Wylan replied. He reached down into his bag for the pepper spray that he brought with him everywhere he went. He was a little less paranoid about people randomly attacking him when he was out on the street than Kaz, but the couple weeks that he had spent homeless had made it so that he never went anywhere without a way to protect himself. Just remembering the fights escalating to the point where he had decided the open streets were safer for him made him furious that the woman was being attacked out in the open like that.

Coming over to help had the effect that he wanted, which was both a good and a bad thing. Ivan had seemingly forgotten about the woman and had turned fully to Wylan, but there was more hate and rage burning in his drunken eyes than before. “This has nothing to do with you,” he snarled, spewing flecks of spit out towards Wylan.

“This has something to do with me because you’re attacking someone less than a block from the place where I work! I may not know who you are or why you’ve decided to be an absolute ass, but it’d be wrong of me to just walk away. That’s the right thing for you to do, though,” he said confidently. He uncapped the pepper spray in his bag and then wrapped his fingers around the small bottle. It would take him less than a second to bring it out, aim, and then incapacitate the man, as long as alcohol was the only thing in his system. He had seen pepper spray being used on another one of the homeless youth from his camp, and because the other had been on PCP it had been basically useless.

“He’s right, Ivan. What would Fedyor think about you doing this? I know that your husband still works for that scum but we were once friends. I don’t think that he’d be very happy about you wailing on me,” the woman said as she righted herself.

“Keep my husband’s name out of your mouth, wench,” he snarled as he turned back around. Apparently mentioning whoever she had was the wrong move, as he wrapped his hand into her dark locks and threw her down to the ground.

Wylan had moved in an instant, before he even knew what his legs were doing. He brought the pepper spray out of his bag as he moved, aiming and spraying just as he had been playing over and over again in his mind. The red liquid dusted through the air until it was covering the eyes and face of the attacker, burning into his skin.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he screamed as he fell down to his knees and began to claw at his eyes. It would do nothing to remove the irritant from where it was sticking, but it was the only thing he could think of in his addled state to get rid of the feeling.

Wylan quickly stepped around him and then offered his hand out to the woman. She had bounced hard against the asphalt of the parking lot but was already beginning to right herself, one hand once again cupping the side of her face. “Do you think that you can stand?” he asked as he offered his hand out to her.

She nodded weakly as she took it and used it to haul herself to her feet. She whimpered as she took a step, her ankle doubling because of the break in her heel. She bent down and removed both of her shoes, looping her fingers around the back so that she could carry them. Wylan took her hand in his again and then began to pull her down the street so that Ivan couldn’t get up and follow them if he somehow overcame the burning that of the pepper spray. It was unlikely that would ever happen because of the potentness of the irritant, but Wylan had learned that sticking around to make sure the monster had been taken down resulted in getting hurt.

They ran over the street, crossing against the red light because there were no other cars on the road. She held onto him like if she let go then she’d drift back to the place of pain and fear that she had been in before, something that he was intimately familiar with.

Wylan was by no means unfit, but he didn’t work out as much as his partners did. He and Kaz tried to do at least a little bit of physical activity, Wylan so that his body didn’t go stiff with how long he spent over a desk and Kaz to help self-regulate his chronic pain issues. Matthias worked out because he enjoyed it, Inej did it because it was part of her job, and Jesper somehow managed to stay fit because of the singing and acting that he threw himself at every chance he got.

Running down two blocks and into the parking lot where his car was left him gasping for air, along with the woman next to him. Her chest was heaving to bring in air even though she was nowhere as winded as he was. He wondered what she did for a living that let her have that much breath control, but now wasn’t exactly the time to ask.

He winced as he realized what he had done, eyeing her shoes where they were still clenched in the hand that wasn’t holding onto his. He dropped her hand then when he remembered that he hadn’t yet let go and said, “I’m sorry for bringing you all the way here, I should have brought you to your car.”

She waved him off dismissively, “I didn’t drive here and this is far enough that I can’t imagine Ivan being able to follow us.” She paused for a moment as her hand drifted up to where she had hit her head through the thick chocolate curls and Wylan remembered another thing that he technically should have done.

“Would you mind if I checked you out? I may not be a medical doctor but I’m still trained in first aid so I should be able to see if you have a concussion or not,” he explained nervously. He reached into his bag and dug out the keys to his car, unlocking it with a fluid motion. He opened up the hatch to the back and then pulled the emergency wool blanket over the dirt and grim covered edge so that she had somewhere to sit that was relatively clean.

It was a bit of odd paranoia that had followed him well into adulthood, even after he had become the legal owner of a home. He knew that it was unlikely that he would ever break up with his partners and even more unlikely that it would be all of them, or that him no longer being in a relationship with them would result in him being back on the streets, but it was a worry that always hung heavy in the back of his mind. He made sure that any vehicles that he owned had enough space for him to sleep in the back comfortably so that he wasn’t quite as exposed as he had been when he was a teenager.

“Right, you probably should,” she nodded. “I think if I said no my friend Tamar would find out and actually come to kill me.”

She let out another one of her pleasant laughs. It made Wylan feel comfortable and happy, settled back into his body instead of pushed out of his skin by adrenaline and bad memories. This woman reminded him a lot of Inej, though she was soft where Inej was sharp and quick where Inej was slow. While Wylan’s queerplatonic partner was a lot more partial to fixing people that bothered her with a silent yet deadly stare that promised untold pain, the woman next to him was the type to face her problems head-on with all the ferocity that she could muster. She didn’t seem jagged and broken afterwards the same way that Inej did, her confidence letting her head stay high instead of crumbling to dust after.

Wylan wanted to get to know her more, but he could do that after he made sure that she was okay. “I’m going to check your pupils with the flashlight on my phone,” he warned her. She had sat down on top of the blanket in front of him so that he could reach her easily, which he was grateful for. Despite the fact that she had already removed her heels, which had made her a few inches taller, she was nearly a head taller than Wylan when he was standing at his full height.

She just hummed in acknowledgement, choosing not to nod her head, which was probably for the best. Wylan grabbed his phone from his pocket and stopped the recording that he had completely forgotten about. He then placed his hand on the edge of her eyelid. He shook the device in his other hand twice to activate the flashlight before he brought it up and shone it directly into her eye. The pupil shrank and revealed more of the beautiful green color in her irises.

He repeated the process on the same eye once and got the same response before he did it to the other. When he was sure that her pupils were dilating and constricting as they should have been, he pressed the light button on the back of his trunk so that they could properly see each other. The overhead streetlights had given them enough that he wasn’t worried about hurting her while he checked her out, but it would be easier for them both to maneuver around.

Wylan fidgeted with his first aide kit as he tried to figure out what he was going to do next. Before he even got the chance to start forming a sentence, she asked, “What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

He winced. He wasn’t very good at meeting new people.

She didn’t seem to mind very much, just laughing again. She slid further back into his car so that her knees were hugging the lip of the trunk. “I think it’s only fair that I get to know your name after everything that I put you through,” she explained easily. She was so warm, like freshly baked bread or pancakes directly off of the griddle. She had just been through something so deeply traumatizing and yet the kindness and compassion that she seemed to carry with her came off of her in waves.

“You didn’t put me through anything,” Wylan shook his head. “I could have just kept walking or gone into the bar to get one of the bouncers to help you if I didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted to help. I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of some guy’s anger.”

Worry took over her pretty features for a moment before she winced and placed her hand up on her face where she had been struck. “So does that mean that I get to know your name or are you going to be the handsome stranger that saved me for the rest of my life.”

For some reason, he didn’t feel panicky or strange when she called him handsome the way that he had when other woman had done the same thing. It made him feel bashful and excited the same way that he did when Inej called him that, like she was complimenting him objectively instead of seeing someone that she could possibly romance. It was a different feeling than when his boys complimented him, which made fire run through his veins and excitement flip his stomach. “Wylan,” he supplied after he realized that he hadn’t answered her again.

Her face fell and her eyes widened. For a moment he was worried that she was going to puke or that he had missed a pivotal sign of concussion despite her not acting like she was dizzy or nauseous before. Then she asked, “Hendriks?”

He nodded, “How did you know?”

She sighed and slumped against the side of his car, her head resting against the rubber insulation on the side that wasn’t already swelling with injury. “My name is Nina Zenik. You and I were supposed to meet tomorrow so that Jesper and Matthias could introduce me to you.”

“Oh!” he gasped. Relief washed over him as he realized just how much of a good thing it was that he had interrupted the fight instead of minding his own business. Sticking his nose where it didn’t belong had actually resulted in him getting a lot of good things in life, which is why he had made such a massive habit out of it despite the way it had treated him in childhood. “I thought that you looked a little bit familiar.”

She righted herself, squaring her shoulders dramatically before she stuck her hand out in front of her. Wylan took it and gave her a shake like she had been asking for as she said, “It’s good to meet you.”

“You as well,” he laughed. “Now, do you want me to take you back to your apartment?”

Nina deflated again. Her eyes glanced back towards the parking lot that they had come from. She took a moment before she finally, cautiously answered, “I don’t think that I can go home. Ivan and Fedyor both know where I live and where I keep my spare key. I’ve been trying to find a new place to move it but I haven’t quite figured it out yet so there’s a chance…”

“Do you have a friend that you want to stay with?” he asked instead, not judging her in the slightest for not wanting to go home. Wylan himself had struggled with panic attacks for the first week that he had been living in his family estate after he had inherited it. Matthias and Jesper had spent every waking moment that they weren’t working or spending time with their other partners helping him remodel the house so it felt more like his home and less like his prison. If she felt at all unsafe in her apartment then there was no way that he was going to pressure her to go back, especially since he understood that feeling.

A small blush joined the makeup on her cheeks, which only served to highlight the freckles brushed across her nose and ears. “I would suggest that you bring me to Matthias and Jesper if you hadn’t already told me that you were their partner.”

“I can bring you back to the house,” Wylan immediately replied. Just the idea of doing so already soothed a lot of the anxiety that had been brewing in his gut. He was worried that the second she was out of his sight something horrible was going to happen to her, like it had been before he arrived. It was a lot less creepy to suggest that he take her back to his home when he knew that she was already very familiar and comfortable around two of his partners, so he was grateful that they had learned that fact about each other that early into their interaction.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything, I know that the five of you live together,” she touched the edge of her mascara where it was still smearing with blood.

He offered her a shy smile as he reached into the first aid kit that he kept in the back of his car. “Well I actually own the house, so I’m technically the one that gets to decide who does and does not get to go inside of it. Step mother? Proably not. The woman that two of my boyfriends have been going out with that just got hurt? Absolutely.”

She laughed, more of the tension beginning to melt from her. It was clear that she was beginning to come down from the adrenaline rush that the fight had brought her, the exhaustion hanging off of her. Wylan wanted to get some of her wounds cleaned up in the car before they had the actual first aide expert look her over.

Finally finding what he had been searching for, he handed her a wet wipe and asked, “Do you need to go to the ER or do you feel comfortable coming back to my place?”

“It’s going to sound so silly,” she mumbled as she picked at the edge of the wipe’s packaging.

“I don’t think anything you say when you’re going through shock is going to sound silly,” he assured her. It was a bold move from a very unbold person, but he touched her arm to try and emphasize what he had said with actions.

She leaned easily into the touch as she collected her thoughts. She then said, “All I can think about is seeing Matthias and Jesper. I know we haven’t been together for nearly as long as you have, but they’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long while.”

“Not your band getting back together?” Wylan asked.

She shook her head and then winced. She unwrapped the wet wipe and then tenderly brought it up to her face. Nina was only able to get some of the blood off of her skin, a decent amount of it already congealing and making it monumentally harder to do what she needed to.

Carefully, he pried the item from her hand and then began to patiently rub it over her skin to clear away the blood. She scrunched her nose and took in a sharp inhale when he got closer to the cuts. He couldn’t see any shards of glass so far, but he wasn’t trying to clean out the wounds, but rather make her more comfortable until he could actually tend to them properly.

While he was cleaning she explained, “My band getting back together has been messy, as you saw with my fight with Ivan. I was partially signed to the label owned by a really famous artist and when I started refusing to produce music under the contract I got in a lot of trouble. They stole a shit ton of money from me but I made it work. They didn’t really like that and so now I’m on the shit list for the rest of my life.”

“If that was anything to go by then I can see that,” Wylan murmured. He got the gauze out of the first aid kit and then wound it around his hand until it made a thick pad. He slipped it off of his nimble fingers and pressed it to the cuts on her face before they had the chance to continue bleeding. “Do you want to do the rest of the cleaning and tending back at the house?”

“Yes,” she nodded immediately. “As comfortable as the back of your car is, I would much rather have somewhere that has soap and running water.”

He held his hand out to help her steady herself as she stood back up properly. She was holding the gauze to her face with one hand and moving around the edge of the car with the other. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the asphalt making up the parking lot had to be painful on her stockinged feet.

While she was moving, he packed up the first aid kit again and then shoved everything properly into his trunk. He clicked the light off and shut the hatch before he went to the driver’s side and got in. He turned the car on so that the heater was running and hopefully helping to warm her up since the night was a little bitter and she didn’t have a coat.

“I’m going to text the others to tell them what happened before we get going, is that okay?” Wylan asked as he motioned to his phone with his other hand.

She nodded her consent and he got to work. He opened up the group chat that he had with his partners and then held the phone up to his mouth. He spoke clearly and deliberately so that the speech-to-text program could actually write down what he wanted to say. “I’m sorry for being home so late from work, but I found Nina in a fight with someone. She’s doing mostly okay but I’m going to bring her back to the house so that we can help her. Be home soon, love you.”

He glanced at her, a bit sheepish as he sent the message off to his partners. He connected his phone to the car’s computer and opened Spotify so that he could pick some music as a social lubricant. He felt comfortable with silences, even relished in them at times, but he had been dating Jesper for long enough to know that other people felt pressured to talk when everything else was quiet. Music usually stamped that down at least a little, made silences between acquaintances more comfortable and soothed anxieties.

He had four pinned playlists other than his liked songs up at the top, each with a combination of his name with one of his partner’s. It was something cute that they had done with each other, making a playlist where they could send messages to the other, give music suggestions, or just generally be sappy. It worked best with Kaz, who loved them very, very, very much but had trouble being able to express that physically on some days.

Wylan had been thinking about Inej a lot since he had gotten Nina back to his car, a lot of the feelings he had for her recurring in his chest. Of course the emotions were nowhere near as strong as they were for Inej since he had known her longer, but they were still there. He had only ever felt the warm giddiness pooling in his chest for one other woman before, and it was the one that he was queerplatonically dating. He was going to have to take a moment to process that when he was no longer feeling quite so sleepy and frazzled.

He finally settled on the one that he and Matthias had made for each other, setting it to shuffle before he deposited it down onto the center console. His phone lit up with a couple of texts from his partners but he was unable to read what they said or who had sent them. The only way that he had been able to parse through his playlists was because the covers had been very unique, for the express purpose of helping him when he was struggling with reading. The combination of him overworking himself earlier that day and the adrenaline made the words swim in front of him whenever he tried.

Once his bag was deposited into the back and Nina was buckled in, he pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive back to his home. He lived on the very outskirts of the city so it was going to take them a while to get there despite the ten o’clock traffic being so light that outside of the center of town, there was no one.

He had been right to start music for the drive. Nina didn’t seem to be up to doing much talking, simply holding the gauze to her forehead and switching hands when one got tired. Wylan made sure to check on her every so often by glancing in her direction, admiring how cinematic she looked when the streetlights were bathing her in soft yellow and red light.

The ride had been going smooth until they got about ten minutes away from the estate. A new song that Matthias had added came onto the radio, and it just so happened to be one of the ones that her band had produced. Wylan had been informed that it was Nina singing since those songs all happened to be Matthias’ and Jesper’s favorites, not that they were biased, but it was also deeply personal to him. He couldn’t relate to every line that was said, but it was so reminiscent of the way that he had grown up and how he would raise children if he and his partners ever decided to have them.

The sultry voice murmured out of the radio as he reached down to change the song. Before he got the chance, Nina’s hand landed on top of his and stopped him from doing so. She gave him a kind smile as she began to sing along, matching the notes perfectly since it was her.

“Marrow made a wife of Eve, but no one gave up a rib for me and mine. My hearts did expose to the elements, calloused and untouched by a man's design. Oh, my ugly organs, how lucky we are. Brick and mortar between my bones, built a kingdom fierce and fortified. My name fading from the yellow page, stones are laid upon the mountainside Oh, my savage empire, ow lucky we are, never to be moved by the words of a liar. The dark doesn't frighten me, I chose to close my eyes. It is mine, it is mine. The night doesn't frighten me, I chose to let it thrive. It is mine, it is mine. Time has changed the metaphor. Now, dust is not the origin of bone Little girl, don't let them sell you any armor, all your ribs are still your own. Oh, my precious child, how lucky you are, handed down a shield for your tender parts.”

By the time that they had reached the end repetition of the chorus, Wylan had joined her in singing the song. It felt cathartic to be able to sing it out loud when usually he was too shy to do so. The song was raw in a way that many things rarely were any more, which was only part of the reason that he adored it so much.

Nina hadn’t removed her hand from where she had stopped him from changing the song. Instead, their hands lay on the center console. Their palms were pressed flush and their fingers slotted together without interweaving. It felt right and gentle, not forward despite them having only known each other for half an hour.

When the song finished, she took a deep breath. “I wrote that song immediately after I left The Fold. So many of my emotions went into it and it was so personal, I wanted to produce it under my other name. It fit better with Shadow and Bone than it did with Heartrender, though, and the band agreed that they’d be okay with producing it.”

“Is it about everything that happened under that label?” Wylan asked, his eyes darting towards her for just a moment. He was worried that he was asking something that was too personal or prying into a wound that hadn’t healed yet.

She didn’t seem to mind as she gave him another affirmative hum. “It was also based off of some of the things that happened when I was young. I knew Alina, one of my bandmates, when we were both fifteen. We went to that huge Catholic school, the one that everyone else calls the Little Palace because the chapel attached to it makes it look kind of like a castle. We were both so sheltered and we had all that religious drivel drilled into us so hard. It made me feel so guilty for being able to love women as well, but it also opened us up to some pretty nasty older men. I was able to avoid it from the romantic side, but when Kirigan approached us and promised us the fame and fortune that we had been dreaming of, there was no way that we could reject it. We signed with him and things got worse for her but they eventually got better for me. We’re both okay now, but that song…”

“I relate to it too,” Wylan gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “My dad was shit and my mom was always telling me that I had to find armor wherever I could find it. She left when I was eight and then she couldn’t be my armor anymore, so I had to find it in other things. There was no one there to protect me,” he shook his head as the memories all came pouring back.

Nina took in a deep breath and cleared her throat. “That’s enough hard stuff for tonight! We should talk about something else.”

“Yes,” Wylan nodded in agreement. His face then brightened as he turned onto the street that would lead him to his home, “Have you had the chance to meet Trassel yet?”

“I haven’t! Matthias was going to bring him to a date that we were supposed to have in a park but then we got that horrible thunderstorm and had to change to a cafe, which meant no dog,” she pouted.

“Well you’re about to meet him. I want to warn you that in pictures he looks a lot smaller than he actually is because Matthias is massive. He’s absolutely sweet but can be kind of scary if you were expecting a dog closer to the size of a lab,” Wylan informed her. He had a bad reaction when he first met Trassel because of the sheer massive size of the dog, despite Trassel being the sweetest animal that he had ever had the fortune of living with.

They pulled into the driveway and then the garage. He noticed that Kaz’s car was gone, but the one that Matthias and Jesper shared was parked dutifully in the spot on the other side of the garage. “I knew that it had to be a big place for you to all live together but I wasn’t expecting it to be this huge,” Nina commented as she carefully got out of the car.

“We’re not secretly rich or something, this was the only thing that I inherited from my dad when he died,” Wylan explained as he grabbed his bag and phone. He got out and locked the vehicle.

A smile pulled at his lips as he could already hear the deep barking from inside the house where his pet had heard the garage door opening. Trassel was smart enough to know that meant someone was coming home and he adored them all so much that it didn’t matter which one of them it was.

Wylan walked over to Nina and brought her to the steps that led to the backdoor of the house instead of the ones that led to the dog run in the sideyard. It had been a massive undertaking for the rest of his partners to get used to the size of the estate when they had finally moved in. The only reason that Wylan had been an exception to that was because he had grown accustomed to every nook and cranny of the place while hiding from his father and private tutor.

They stepped over the threshold and into the kitchen just as Trassel finished barreling down the stairs that led up to the bedrooms. The space that they were in was massive, but felt more snug than it had in Wylan’s childhood because of the details that his partners had helped him add to the space to make it his own. The tile was white and black diamonds that went halfway up the walls. They had recently painted the kitchen to be a butter yellow color, with red curtains hanging and drawn over the windows. All of the appliances had been updated within the last couple of the years but were also the ugliest stainless steal. The fridge was the best part, now covered in little magnets and sticky note reminders for each of them. Art hung around the cupboards, which were a rainbow set of colors in the most obnoxiously bright yet not neon colors that they could find. Every surface other than the counters was also cluttered with aloe vera and spider plants, which Inej had brought from her apartment when she had moved in.

“Hi puppy!” Wylan beamed as he patted his lap to call the dog over to him. He knew that Nina would likely need a second or two so that she could become accustomed to the new space that she was in.

Trassel barked excitedly as he immediately ran over to Wylan. He was massive even for a utonagan, coming up to the Wylan’s waist with all four paws down on the ground. He was also about a hundred and ten pounds, most of which appeared to be fur as they got closer to the winter months. He was beautiful shade of brown-black with the white clinging to his chest and the underside of his muzzle. It would likely spread as he continued to get older, but at only five years old he had retained all of the luscious color he had been born with.

“Have you been good today?” Wylan asked as he began to run his fingers through the side of the dog’s face. The fur around the top of Trassel’s head was his favorite, soft and already brushed back so it didn’t hang in front of his eyes or nose.

He received another bark as the dog’s excitement rose. When Trassel got so overwhelmed that he placed his hands onto Wylan’s chest to get closer to his face, Wylan reached down and took his hands. It stressed his hips enough that he calmed down, so Wylan let him go as soon as he had calmed.

When he saw Nina he barked again and rushed over to her. She knelt down in front of him as she dug her hands into his fur and began to baby talk him. “Hello there, hello! I bet I smell like all kind of interesting and same things, don’t I? You’re so handsome, so handsome,” she murmured.

The meeting was cut short as they were reminded why they were there in the first place. Matthias walked down the hall with Inej and Jesper hot on his heels. “Nina?” he called out, his voice more accented than it was normally, which just illustrated how stressed out he was.

“Hey,” she breathed as she rose to her feet. Matthias was by her side in an instant, peeling back the gauze that was just barely soaked with enough blood that it was sticking to the wounds on its own.

Trassel was wuffling and barking to be played with, so Jesper grabbed him under the collar and led him to the back door. “Go run,” he instructed with a firm point to the space that they had for him. He listened and rushed outside so that he could complete his course and get a prize. As soon as the dog had been taken care of, Jesper rushed back to his girlfriend to check on her. “What happened?”

“I was attacked by an old friend of mine’s husband. He was drunk,” Nina explained. She winced as Matthias reached up and peeled the gauze away. It broke some of the scabs that had begun to form there and restarted some of the bleeding.

“Here, why don’t we move to the bathroom to get you cleaned up,” Inej said. She swatted Matthias hand so that he would leave the wounds alone until she could take care of them herself. Matthias did know a decent amount of first aid and wouldn’t make anything horrendously worse, but he wasn’t as knowledgeable as her.

The group moved through the house until they were upstairs in the master bath. While they were walking, the shorter of the two women said, “My name is Inej. You probably guessed that since I’m the only feminine presenting person here that could be called girlfriend,” she chuckled.

“Nina Zenik,” the other replied. “You’re about to go on some sort of tour, aren’t you?”

“I have a couple of shows in Vegas that I’m doing this week,” she nodded. “I was cuddling with the boys while waiting for Wylan to get home when we got his message. I’m the one that knows first aid the best so I got up to help you. It’s wonderful to meet you, Nina, even if I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“At least we got to bring it forward?” she offered with a light laugh.

The master bathroom was huge, so it was no trouble for the five of them to get inside. Matthias took up the spot on the edge of the tub where he could see all of his partners. Wylan and Jesper stood near the shower part of the room, leaning heavily against the gray colored glass with their fingers interwoven between them. Nina was sat down on the counter space between the two sinks while Inej spread out the things that she would need to check and clean the wounds around them. “How did you get these?” she asked as she turned Nina’s face to the side to get a better look at them.

“Ivan broke a beer bottle above my head and some of the glass got on me,” she said. “I think that they’re mostly just weeping so much because they’re on my face, they don’t feel all that deep.”

“They’re not,” the other woman answered. She got a wet cloth with some antibiotic soap and then carefully began to drag it across the wounds. Nina winced and let out a little whimper, holding her hand out towards Matthias. He was there in a second, threading their fingers together so that she could focus on something other than the pain of having her wounds checked.

Once they were cleaned, Inej put some cream on them that would help fight any leftover bacteria and numb the area to dull the pain. “Do you have any allergies?” she asked as she fished through the pile of band aides. Kaz had topical allergies, bursting into hives whenever he had an adhesive that less than medical grade on his skin.

“No,” Nina replied. “Nothing that you’d have in that kit, anyway.”

Inej plucked one of the larger plasters from the pile and then opened it up. She set it over the biggest of the cuts and then used two smaller bandaids for the others until everything was covered. “I don’t think that there’s anything I can do for that bruise, other than this,” she supplied a small jar containing a balm. “It will sting really bad and it smells quite strong, but it helps aide the healing process.”

Nina glanced towards Wylan and he gave her a confident, reassuring nod. The balm that Inej had was a godsend for sore muscles, which he and Kaz often got. “Alright,” Nina agreed with a little nod. Matthias brought his hand to the side of her head that wasn’t being tended to, running his long fingers through her thick hair as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Inej’s skilled, calloused fingers dipped into the balm and then began to carefully and evenly spread it across the darkened area on Nina’s face. When she finished, she wiped her hands off on a baby wipe and offered Nina a makeup remover wipe. “If you’re going to be staying here tonight then I think you’d like to be comfortable.”

“Yes, thank you,” she replied as she took the offered object. Inej cleaned up the rest of the scraps before she ushered the other two boys out of the room. Wylan and Jesper hung in the background long enough to hear them making plans about clothing and where she might sleep.

Eventually, Wylan tugged his boyfriend down to the kitchen so that he could cook something. Eating always settled their nerves and made them feel better, especially since they had both been rather food insecure at one point in their lives. Jesper jumped up onto the island counter in the center of the room, folding his legs underneath him to make balancing easier while watching Wylan working. “So what happened?”

“Well, I got lost in my work, which is why I was late coming home,” he winced. He had forgotten to properly apologize for that and bringing it up had reminded both of them that it had happened in the first place. He set down the tortillas and cheese that he had gotten out of the fridge as he walked over to Jesper. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist to bring them closer together, knocking their foreheads together softly. “I’m sorry for not texting you as soon as I realized what time it was and for losing track of time. I know you worry about us when we go silent.”

“Inej had to talk me down like four times. I was a second away from texting Nina to get reassurance that you were alright and she doesn’t know anything about that particular issue yet,” Jesper mumbled. He was pouting slightly but there was real hurt behind his words.

“I’m sorry,” Wylan apologized again. He brushed their lips together in a sweet yet chaste kiss to accent the words with something positive.

It worked and the anger immediately drained from Jesper. “I know. I just worry that something bad has happened to you guys when you don’t respond like that. Like with my mom…”

“I love you,” Wylan whispered as he brought their lips together for another sweet kiss. Jesper’s mom was a sensitive topic that would result in a lot of feelings about his own mother, feelings that Wylan wasn’t quite emotionally prepared to look into that night.

“I love you, too, baby,” he mumbled as he held the side of Wylan’s face.

Neither of them had been able to clock the sound of the garage opening and shutting over Trassel’s barking from the backyard. They lived far enough away from the city that sometimes he found deer and foxes out past the fence that he wanted to talk big game about but could never dream of ever getting to, so they tuned out the sound of his barking at that tempo. They both realized what he had been barking at when the door to the garage shut and Kaz said, “I thought that we had agreed no food was to be left out on the counter.”

Wylan broke away from his boyfriend and then flushed when he realized that he had been caught. They were supposed to make sure that anything that wasn’t actively being eaten or used was put away to make sure that their mischievous puppy didn’t devour it and make himself sick. “I’m sorry, I was supposed to be cooking something for myself since I missed dinner but then Jesper and I got talking and that led to…” he trailed off and felt his face flush harder. “Sorry.”

Clearing his throat loudly to get the attention on himself, Jesper jumped off of the counter and stuffed the food back into the fridge. “That is enough apologizing from Wylan! We don’t want our sweet boy thinking that he has done all the wrong in the world, after all,” he grinned as he wrapped his arms around the aforementioned man’s waist.

“Jesper,” he complained as he was bombarded with kisses. He knew that part of it was actual adoration for him and the other part was the actor trying to make sure that his anxiety didn’t overwhelm him. When it was clear that Jesper wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, Wylan turned to face their boyfriend, “You’re home early. Is everything okay?”

“It was a slow night and I thought that you would all be able to use me here more,” he replied. “Also, I got you all something to eat.”

He placed the bags of food down on the table and Wylan felt his heart sing. It was hard for Kaz to show love in the same way that Jesper did, but his actions meant so much in their relationship. “Thank you,” he breathed as he tried not to cry from how overwhelmed he felt.

“You’re alright,” Kaz reminded him gently as he brought their lips together in a very chaste kiss. That was all that Wylan was going to be able to get from his partner after work. Even if the Crow Club had only a dozen patrons, the amount of strangers that he had to be around when he was working often overwhelmed Kaz to the point where he didn’t feel safe being touched unless he instigated it. He had updated the group chat when he had been in the office for half an hour, which Wylan had seen just before he realized what time it was.

They moved to the living room with the food and an extra set of paper towels. The living room was their biggest work in progress yet since it had been a formal parlor before they had moved in. They were slowly replacing all of the hyper modern furniture with the more vintage pieces that they preferred, which meant that seating was a little bit sparse at the moment. The most modern piece that they had left in the room was the sectional that could transform into a big enough space for all five of them to cuddle together when they wanted to. The TV stand was pulled straight out of the sixties, reshaped by Matthias and Jesper so that it could actually fit their flat screen in the middle of display case. The rug and coffee table had been picked out by Inej, both of them reminiscent of how her house had been decorated before her parents’ accident.

The trio settled in to eat what Kaz had picked up for them, Wylan and Jesper both sitting on the ground with their backs pressed to the couch while Kaz sat in the armchair that he had gotten to help with his pain before they had even moved in. Other than his clothes, it was the only thing from his old apartment above the Crow Club that he had brought with him.

About fifteen minutes later they heard some of their partners coming down the stairs and turned the TV off. Nina was walking hand-in-hand with Matthias, wearing a pair of Jesper’s sweatpants and one of Matthias’ shirts since everyone else had a vastly different body shape compared to her.

“Hey baby,” Jesper said as he moved onto the couch. She smiled, trying to hold back tears as she trekked over to him. She collapsed down onto the couch, her legs pulled up near his chest and her head immediately on his shoulder. He moved his arm around her back and pressed a kiss over the top of the band aids on her forehead. “How are you doing?”

“I’m tired and scared,” she mumbled. “Glad that it was Wylan that helped me, though.”

“Yeah, he is pretty great like that,” Matthias replied. He stooped down and kissed Wylan within an inch of his life. “Thank you for being such an amazing, kindhearted person, min brandstifter.”

“That was one time,” he muttered, his cheeks turning a dark red color with embarrassment.

Inej sat herself down in his lap and stole a couple of his fries. He didn’t mind, since she indulged in processed foods so rarely that she deserved a treat. “It’s fun to tease you.”

He buried his face into her shoulder, which he knew was why she had sat down on him like she had. “Fun for you, maybe.”

Nina laughed, which was a great sound to hear with how clearly worn out she was. The energy in the room got a lot more somber when Jesper asked her once again what had happened. She recounted some elements from her past like she had for Wylan in the car, still refusing to let herself cry. She cuddled in between her boyfriends like they were going to be able to save her from her own bad feelings, something that Wylan remembered doing vividly after he got the news that his father had died.

She finished telling her story and they all agreed to watch something calm to wind down before bed. Wylan finished his food and then gave Inej a sweet kiss on the cheek before he dumped her down onto the couch next to Kaz. He made sure that there was enough space between them that they wouldn’t accidentally crash together. “I’m going to go shower, I know you’ll all probably be in bed by the time I get back,” he sighed. He was both glad and upset that he had gotten off work so late.

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Matthias promised as he tenderly kissed his boyfriend. Jesper mimicked the movement as well before settling in next to Nina.

“I can give you a kiss if you want, but what I really want to do is say thank you,” she replied, witty and sharp-tongued even in her exhaustion.

“I would have done it even if you weren’t dating two of my partners,” he replied as he fought back another blush. The only thing that Kaz was able to do was give his hand a squeeze through the thick leather of his gloves, which Wylan was okay with.

He disappeared up the stairs as exhaustion sunk low into his veins. A lot had happened in one night, but the net effect seemed to be good overall. Nina fit right into their flock like she had been there from the beginning.

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