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dancingbirdie · 7 months

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Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺

Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo

Something Imagined / Something Real

Word Count: 3.9K

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA

Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.

The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him.

“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.”

Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”

“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire.

“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way.

But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought.

“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously.

Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering.

“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly.

Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.

“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence.

“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.”

“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”

Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.

After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it.

It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt.

Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.

“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him.

The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?”

“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder.

Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.

“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished.

“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.”

Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror.

As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed.

Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.

Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering.

He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed.

That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot.

Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes.

The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination.

Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master.

But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?

She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.

It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.

So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp.

“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”

Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain.

“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.

“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion.

Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling.

“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.

Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.

But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.

Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face.

“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”

Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand.

The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water.

Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand.

Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?

“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty.

“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”

“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off.

“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze.

“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”

Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.

But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try.

***

He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad.

Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her.

“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question.

The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well.

“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly.

Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her.

“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.

“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees.

Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far.

“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.

“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.

“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed.

Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind.

Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years.

Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.

“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”

Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.

“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”

She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare.

“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.

“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”

“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”

Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.

“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted.

Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight.

“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady.

“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.”

Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”

She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession.

But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment.

“Why?” he asked quietly.

She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face.

“Why what?”

“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest.

Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”

Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly.

“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.”

Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much.

“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy.

“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her.

She held his gaze, speechless.

“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”

Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation.

“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone.

“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.

Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him.

“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”

“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.

“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.

“Could I hug you?” she whispered.

The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded.

Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.

Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.

She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer.

“This… this is nice,” he whispered.

He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response.

It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next.

#astarion #dancingbirdiewrites #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #astarion x f!reader #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion fic #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic

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avelera · 4 months

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PSA: You should question news articles that make you not want to vote

Hey Tumblr friends, but especially young Americans in this, the year of our Lord 2024.

Unfortunately, it is an election year.

Unfortunately, a US election year becomes everyone's problem, and yes everyone else, we are very very sorry that you have to deal with our nonsense.

But in all seriousness, the level of propaganda that's going to be flung around on all sides is going to reach peak levels this year for the English-speaking internet in particular. There's going to be a lot of influence operations, on all sides, and yes including on sides you agree with but they are still influence operations.

Source: I am speaking as a cybersecurity professional who also did a great deal of work in election security.

So, here's what I am going to ask you to do. What I am going to beg you to do: be careful of any article that makes you think there's no point in voting.

That's it. I'm not going to tell you who to vote for, or how to think, or that you should trust or distrust every article out there. I don't care about that. I care about whether or not it makes you think you shouldn't vote.

A lot of influence operations are about making you feel like there's no point. That both sides are just as bad as the other. The the election is falsified. That you can "protest" by not voting (false: you will simply not be counted and your voice will be ignored). All sorts of reasons not to vote.

No matter what you do, what you believe, or who you trust, you really really have to vote this year, and every year, and you need to not listen to articles that say there's no point because among those articles are in fact active foreign influence campaigns trying to promote one side or the other for their own reasons, I am deadly serious right now.

(More context, sources, and examples sources below the cut.)

In 2016, Russian influence operations were focused on tearing down Hillary in order to specifically depress voter turnout among young men of color in the belief that this would help Trump get elected.

From the article: "“Buried literally in the middle of the indictment is a paragraph that should jar every American committed to the long fight for voting rights,” Anders wrote in a statement. “The Russians allegedly masqueraded as African-American and American Muslim activists to urge minority voters to abstain from voting in the 2016 election or to vote for a third-party candidate.”

This is the flavor of influence campaign that has been proven, that does exist, and is the sort of thing that does numbers here on Tumblr.

Things like the situation in Gaza, for example, are incredibly fraught situations. Articles don't even need to lie about facts on the ground there to make people feel hopeless and angry. Again, I am not telling you who to trust or not trust when it comes to news sources. But if an article about this event, for examples, makes you think or even outright tells you, "There's no point to voting, both sides are awful, I just shouldn't bother." You need to pause and at least consider that this might be an influence operation. You need to think critically. You need to check sources. You need to think about the world you want to live in, to vote for, and who might not want that world to happen for any variety of reasons.

Protesting by failing to vote isn't a real thing.

Old politicians ignoring young voters because they famously do not bother to vote is absolutely 100% a real thing. It is why so many policies that are popular with young people are low priority for politicians: they are not afraid of losing the young vote because no one plans on having it in the first place when it's never there in big enough numbers to matter.

So please, please, read what you want. Believe what you want. Follow your heart and your brain and whatever other organ you want to think with. I'm not here to tell you who is right, wrong, trustworthy, good, or bad. I'm just here to tell you that despite all of that, whatever you read, you must vote in your elections, no matter where you are in the world and you must not listen to voices that tell you not to as a protest.

#politics #us politics #maybe I'll regret this maybe no one will read it idk

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ohimsummer · 6 months

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...I CAN DO BETTER

— minors dni, jealous! satoru x virgin! reader, both of them came in their pants lol, dryhumping, consensual recording/photography, teasing because it's satoru gojo, degradation (use of slut), nipple play, biting/hickeys

sequel to “anything you can do…”

If there is one thing a Satoru Gojo will not allow, it is to be one-upped by Suguru, no matter what it was.

He had too much pride. It was so easy for Geto to bait him into a competition because Gojo would do anything if it meant being declared the winner. Shoko would warn him that his pride would be his downfall, and would land him in quite the unfavorable predicament if he kept it up. Judging from where he was now though, Satoru would beg to differ.

His smirk grows wider at your longing whine, pressing his bulge harder against the growing wet patch of your panties. He smoothes a hand over your bare thigh, pinches you out the blue and can’t help but giggle when you flinch and yelp. The camera app open on his phone, Gojo twists and turns the device to get the best angle of little ol’ you.

Satoru was, of course, quite unhappy at the dark spot on your neck. Because who did Suguru think he was marking you as if you belonged to him? And you, how dare you give Geto the privilege of seeing you so pathetic and desperate first? And, even worse, cumming on his thigh? Appalling. Sickening, even. Satoru’s headache got worse every time Suguru rubbed it in his face.

“She was so cute.”, he brags in a soft, nonchalant voice, dripping with delight. “Should’ve been there, Satoru, she came all over me.”

And Satoru doesn’t know that your display wasn’t as thrilling as Geto makes it out to be. You only came on his leg, fully clothed, but Geto can tell by the protruding veins along his friend’s forehead that Gojo assumes you were bent over the dresser and fucked silly. Unfortunately false, but where’s the fun in correcting him on that?

“S- Satoru–,” you whimper, fabric of your skirt bunched around your waist and between your fingers.” Please, please…”

Gojo steadily grinds into your core, and you think you might just fucking die. The firm tip of his dick rubs into your throbbing clit so nicely, though barely satiating the dull ache in your pussy. You clench around nothing, drunk and tense and so lost in such a simple pleasure as you messily rock your hips to meet his thrusts.

“So needy, sweetheart.” His mockery is relentless. “Actin’ like such a little slut. You always this desperate for some dick, baby, or is it just mine?”

The minute your head falls to one side and breaks his gaze, suddenly your cheeks are smushed between fingers and Gojo forces you to look at him again. “Answer me.”

A meek whisper trickles from your mouth, lips littered in indentations where you’ve sank your teeth into them. “Just yours…”

He lowers the phone a little and holds his hand up to his ear, then leans closer, all this while still massaging his stiff cock against your swollen clit. “A little louder, baby, so Suguru will hear.”

Before you can register his words, Gojo gives you a particularly sharp thrust that mashes his tip against your clit so perfectly and you can’t help crying out for him. “J-just yours, Satoru–!”

His free hand runs beneath your shirt, up to your bare breasts underneath, and Satoru carelessly thumbs a nipple beneath his finger. “Aww, Suguru will be so disappointed.”

There’s not a chance to protest, instead he’s mindlessly driving himself into your cunt again, low grunts and broken moans leaving him. Gojo props his phone up on your nightstand and, now that his other hand is free, begins leaving his touch all over your body. He looms over your weak, shivering form, mercilessly humping against you and eager to swallow the saccharine whines that escape your lips. Your legs, on either side of his waist, clench around him and it feels like your body has a mind of its own as you so desperately grind back against him.

“S-Sato-“, he lands another kiss on your lips, interrupting your plea. “Satoru..!”

It’s the way you’re so desperate and needy and so fucking endearing, no wonder Suguru couldn’t keep his hands off you. Gojo had to end this quick, too much longer and he’d be ripping these flimsy, cotton panties off (and they’re just so cute with a little blue bow in the center that’s calling for him) and having his way with you until Suguru’s name was completely erased from your mind, all on another video to add to his now-growing collection. But, he wouldn’t, not yet anyway. Not that he doesn’t want to, but really just out of bitterness because fuck Suguru for having his way with you and fuck you for letting him.

Before Satoru finishes up, he litters your neck in love bites; they’re spread across your collar, up your jaw, and especially over the previous mark Geto made as a big ‘fuck you’ to that man. And shit, why not, on your chest too. Signs of his possession all over your pretty tits, and the sight almost has him immediately cumming in his pants.

He realizes too late that you’ve gone silent, and looks up to see your head thrown back and bottom lip tucked right between your teeth. Your trembling form is enough to push Satoru closer to his own high, though in the back of his mind he refuses to believe that you deserve such a luxury after being naughty with Suguru.

Your little droplets of cum squirt onto his pants, and your release triggers his own before he can relish in knowing he got you to squirt for him and Suguru didn’t. Gojo dumps a hot load into his boxers, which in turn soaks all the way to the front of his trousers. Chest heaving, Satoru grabs his phone, ends the video, and again holds the device above your writhing figure. In all the excitement, he almost forgot what he was doing all this for.

“Up here, sweetheart.,” he sings at you, and he’s satisfied when your lids flutter open to look at the lens.

Satoru snaps a few pictures of your fucked-out form. Some with your soaked, cumstained pussy just cropped out the bottom, some exposing the marks on your tits, and even one where he uses your skirt to hide his cock, which he’s laid over your cunt. He didn’t actually do what the picture implies, but Gojo thinks the look on Suguru’s face when he assumes he fucked you senseless will be worth it. You certainly look the part, gasping and sweaty and quivering all from him just humping your little clit.

“Don’t you look perfect.”, Satoru grins as he taps around some more on his phone, and your eyes widen when he shows you the screen. “You make such a cute wallpaper, babe!”

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut

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prokopetz · 1 year

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One of the more frequent anecdotes you'll hear from Dungeons & Dragons podcasters is that any time they switch to a system other than D&D, even for a one-off arc, they immediately experience a large drop in listenership – sometimes up to eighty percent! – only to see most of those listeners come back once they switch back to D&D.

What's interesting about this is that the greater part of D&D podcast listeners do not play Dungeons & Dragons. They might have a general idea of what the game's rules look like based on what they've been able to passively absorb from listening to the podcast, but they don't have regular groups, they don't own the rulebooks or maintain subscriptions to the e-book service, and many of them have never rolled a d20 in their lives.

How, then, do we account for that sudden drop in listenership? Why does which system a tabletop roleplaying podcast is using matter so much if most listeners neither know nor care about the rules?

The answer is, unfortunately, quite simple.

In many ways, advocacy for indie RPGs has never moved past Ron Edwards' infamous argument that playing Dungeons & Dragons causes actual, physical brain damage. Deep down, a lot of indie RPG advocacy seems to believe there's something sinister in the structure of D&D that's responsible for what they regard as its unaccountable popularity. You can see this in everything from the casual assumption that D&D players aren't "really" having fun (and all that's needed to convert them to other systems is to show them they've been tricked into falsely believing they're enjoying an objectively un-fun activity), to the rambling thinkpieces that talk about getting folks to try other games like they're liberating people from the fucking Matrix.

Yet we come back to the same problem: how can the mechanical structure of D&D be implicated for its culturally dominant position in the minds of those who've never picked up a twenty-sided die?

The truth is that Dungeons & Dragons enjoys cultural dominance, both within the hobby and elsewhere, because it's owned by the same multinational corporation that owns Monopoly and My Little Pony, and benefits from all the marketing strength its owner can bring to bear. The problem, in brief, is brand loyalty. The aforementioned podcasts lose listeners in droves whenever they give a non-D&D system a spin because all most of those departing listeners care about is whether the thing that they're listening to is called "Dungeons & Dragons". The structural particulars of the mechanics are irrelevant.

The bitter pill we've got to swallow as indie RPG authors is that we can't fix brand loyalty in tabletop RPGs by fucking around with the shape of the dice. There are lots of productive causes we can support to help address the problem, but they mostly have do to with intellectual property and antitrust regulations and such, which are areas where our finely honed ability to debate the correct way to pretend to be an elf is of very limited utility.

Like, I enjoy an abstruse argument about the ideology of dice-rolling as much as the next nerd, but let's not fool ourselves that we're speaking truth to power here. The gamer who just wants to roll dice to hit the dragon with their sword is not your enemy.

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #dungeons & dragons #d&d #hasbro #marketing #capitalism #violence mention #swearing

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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months

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Princess

Mike Schmidt x Female! Reader

Summary: You detest having a roommate. You enjoy cheap rent. One of these things is going to have to change at some point, and with the week you're having? There's only so long before people reach a breaking point.

Tags: Smut. Filthy smut. (This is the first smut I've published too, so enjoy that.) Enemies to lovers, mocking, Mike is so OoC at some parts you could really shove anyone into this role, I'm going to be so extremely for real. (I'm honestly just feral for the actor. Sorry.) Hate fucking, dirty talk, cursing, cucking(??), listening in, masturbating, dumbification, slight dacrophillia(??), Abby's out of the equation for this scenario. Imagine like, early 20s Mike, he's not caretaker yet. Praising, pet names (good girl, princess, whore, pretty girl), no use of Y/N. Dom! Mike, teasing Reader, Brat (??) Reader, phone sex, walking in on masturbation, walking in on sex, possessive! Mike, hickies/bite marks, finger sucking, hair pulling, slut shaming, probably missing some things imma be honest. Just assume this is depraved.

Notes: I'd like to apologize to God and Josh Hutcherson. This is filth and I recognize my eternal soul is indeed damned. Anyways, bone apple teet.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I didn't mind Mike when I met him, you know.

He's quiet. Shy. Keeps to himself. Those traits should make for a good roommate. If he'd kept his mess confined to his room, maybe the music that he blares just a little too loudly wouldn't be so headache inducing.

My fingers rap on the thin door, demanding his attention which is never given to me unless I make a production out of it. We both know that.

"Michael," I say.

Silence.

"Mike."

Nothing.

I open the door and there he is, peacefully asleep on his bed as the bass shakes the water in his glass. I sigh and click off the stereo, then turn to leave. It's incredible how quickly I hear him shift on the bed, scrambling to stand.

"The fuck?" He croaks, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Your music was blaring. I already heard it from Mrs. Jones upstairs about you waking her kid up, I'm not dealing with that again," I say raising my hands up in the air defensively.

"I don't sleep well," he says.

"Neither does the baby," I say.

Mike rolls his eyes, turning the music back on and turning his back to me.

"Michael-"

"Don't call me that," he interrupts.

It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Schmidt, can you at least turn it down? I'm asking nicely," I say. He stands there for a moment and though I can't see his face, I know he's thinking.

Finally, with a sigh he says "Fine, princess."

"Don't call me that," I say. I hear a small huff of laughter from him and he turns to look at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve?" He asks with false sympathy.

"It's a simple request," I say. My eyes narrow at him in irritation.

"Which one?"

"Both."

We stand there for a moment, both of us sizing the other up, taking each other in.

"Fine."

With the agreement having been made, I turn to leave, shutting the door behind me.

Year long lease. Joy.

-Tuesday-

"Hurry up!" Yells Mike, pounding on the bathroom door.

"I'm fucken hurrying!" I yell back, my hands working as fast as they can to wash off my body. Late alarm, fever dreams causing me to wake in a pool of stinking sweat, and one bathroom make for a horrendous cocktail of repeated 'fuck you's through the cheap door.

"I'm gonna be late!" Mike yells.

"So am I, I'm sorry!"

There's a moment of long silence and I think maybe Mike has finally found a spot of pity, realizing that maybe we aren't enemies but simply humans who unfortunately have to coexist in this world together. Then the water turns freezing, and I realize I hate him.

"Michael!" I practically scream. Traces of soap still reside on my body, but the cold and my alarm both force me out. Angered and not thinking clearly, I wrap the towel around my dripping waist and swing the door open.

"Are you fucking happy?" I sneer, face inches from his.

His expression is initially satisfied, but as his eyes flicker downwards he and I both realize my mistake. His eyes widen, lingering for a moment on my bare chest as he processed what he was seeing, then returning to meet my glare.

"What?" I ask sharply. "You've never seen a pair before?"

He stammers. "I-I have."

"Don't act like it," I say. "Take a fucken photo, be the only pair you'll probably ever see in your life, dicksmack."

As though he remembers himself, his eyes narrow. "Move, princess."

I slam past him, walking quickly towards my room and slamming the door behind me.

"Don't wake the baby!" Mike mocks down the hall.

Oh, motherfucker. It is on.

-Wednesday-

It's hard to break a lease. It's harder when nothing as cheap exists in the area. This is a problem for both Mike and I. I know it's true for him because apparently even his bills are too troublesome to keep on the floor of his room. But despite his mess, it's him that comes barreling down the hall, bursting into my room with no warning.

"Jesus, Michael!" I start, spinning around in my chair. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"Have you ever heard of washing a dish?" He sneers. "It's not hard. My baby sister could do it."

"Oh, is she available? I'd love to see how she'd handle your laundry situation," I retort.

"Why is it impossible for you to actually wash something? You'll put water in it, let it soak. I respect that, but then you never come back to it. Do you enjoy flies? I think you enjoy flies," he says with hate dripping off of his words. I roll my eyes, but he's not entirely wrong either.

"Fine," I mutter. "I'll do the dishes. Sorry."

"See? Look at how hard that was, princess." He begins to turn away.

"Will you quit fucking calling me that?" I snap.

"I'm following our bargin. You're the one who slips first, princess," he says while laughing, raising his hands in defense.

A long moment passes, neither of us willing to back down.

"Do the dishes yourself," I say finally, turning back to the computer.

"Not my mess," he says.

"Too bad. I'm too delicate," I say with a faux breathiness to my voice. The door slams behind him, which has me instantly rising from my chair to race after him.

"Don't slam my door!" I say.

"You did it the other day!" He says, spinning around to face me and almost slipping on one of his shirts littering the hall. I can't help but smile at that.

"Problems?" I ask.

"Yeah, they exist in whatever demon spawned you," he hisses. His eyes catch on something though, narrowing as he leans slightly closer. "The fuck is on your neck?" He asks.

"The fuck you mean 'the fuck is on my neck?'" I ask.

"I mean you've got something on your neck," he says.

"No I don't," I say. "Move." I shove past him to enter the bathroom beside us, flicking on the light and feeling my irritation rise as he reaches to do the same thing simultaneously.

"See?" He says, pointing at a small, dark mark on my neck.

Fuck.

"I don't fucken know what that is," I lie, covering it with my hand.

"You liar, that's a hickey!" He says still pointing at it.

"Is not!"

"Is too. What, are you fucking some high-schooler?" He scoffs.

"Adults leave hickies too, Mike. It can be enjoyable. You'd know this if someone ever wanted to fuck you," I spit back.

"Who on earth would enjoy having sex with you?" He asks. "The only loads you leave attract flies I don't want to have to deal with come summer."

My jaw drops in shock.

"And the only loads you leave smell like menthols and depression!" I retort.

Staring. Always staring with this guy. Jaws clentched, eyes narrowed.

"Just don't bring this guy around here," he finally says. His voice is quieter but the edge is still there.

I blink. "What?"

"You heard me," he says. "I don't need to hear your shrill voice like that."

Am I imagining things or is he blushing? No, I'm definitely imagining things. It's the florescents.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I taunt. The fuck kind of response was that?

His eyes widen slightly. "No," he says a little too quickly.

"What, you get one look at my tits and now you're thinking about that degenerate shit?" I press, stepping closer.

"I don't- this-" He's blundering. I've got him now, I've found his weak spot.

Without a word, I slip out of the bathroom and return to my room, shutting the door and beginning a plan that will guarantee I won't have to worry about being the roommate that breaks lease and looks for a new apartment.

-Thursday-

"Are you close, baby?" The sweet voice on the phone asks me. The battery on my toy is flashing, showing one of us needs to finish soon. And while I like Nick, there was just something lacking in him that kept me on this irritating edge, hiding my release from me.

"I'm close," I confirm, switching hands to try and hit a new angle. The video on the computer is doing nothing to help with this at all, and I'm so bored I'm tempted to just fake it and seal the deal.

The plan was simple. Establish dominance over my roommate via fucking a guy I'd met at some party the week before. Nick was an easy target, too busy thinking with his dick to question why I was suddenly insistent on him coming over. And to guarantee his presence at the apartment, I would have to put in work. Not that I wasn't fully uninterested. He was alright, I was single. Beneficial for everyone involved.

The vibrator finally found that sweet spot, the one that made me cry out softly into the receiver as my wrist pumped with newfound vigor.

"Close," I told Nick. "Isn't as good as you though."

Nick chuckles softly. "You're sweet," he says. Then he's prattling sweet praises, whimpering into the phone breathily along with me as I finally begin to tip over the edge, moaning loudly and clearly. It's my luck that Mike should be at work at this moment.

Should be.

Wasn't.

The door opens as Mike walks in, his mind obviously focused on something else but immediately taken aback at the sight of me sprawled upon the bed, legs open, toy in hand, Nick on phone, porn on computer. Shit.

"Jesus!" Mike shouts. "It's the middle of the day!"

"Get the fuck out!" I shout back, my voice less vicious than I'd like given that I was mid-ruined orgasm. Mike covers his eyes, trying to stumble out of the door without looking, muttering a dozen apologies a second before finally reaching and slamming the door shut behind him.

Nick and I are both silent for a long while, neither of us sure what to say.

"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask finally.

"...yeah." He says. And with the click of my phone, the plan is solidified.

I don't see Mike that evening until about three hours later when he finally emerges from his room with pink cheeks and clothed in a large hoodie he seems to wish would swallow him whole.

"Hey," I say to him. I chew on my cheap food slowly, flipping through my novel at the cluttered table.

"Hi," he says quietly, not really making eye contact with me. He crosses to the cabinets, taking out a glass and filling it with water. We listen to the tap for a moment before I finally say "I didn't mean for you to see that."

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "I got that."

More silence. The tap shuts off and he leans against the sink, taking a long sip.

"So... hickey guy?" He finally asks. And I can't help the snort that escapes me.

"Nick," I say.

"And he's...?" Mike is testing the waters, that much is obvious.

"Canadian," I say.

Mike nods. Sip. Silence.

"Nick, from Canada," he says slowly.

"Yep," I say, popping the 'p.'

Mike looks at his drink in thought.

"So you're into Canadians," he finally says. I think for a moment.

"No," I say. I mark my book and close it. "Just bored."

"Just bored?" Mike asks.

"Just bored," I confirm.

Sip. Silence. Thinking.

"You... do that regularly?" He asks.

"I mean... I like sex," I say.

His cheeks redden at that, and he takes another sip as though to hide that.

"He's coming over tomorrow," I say casually. Mike's eyes dart to mine, dark and wide.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Another sip. He finishes his glass.

"Should I find plans for tomorrow?" He asks finally.

"No," I say a bit too quickly. Both of our cheeks redden at that. "I mean, we won't... shouldn't...." I don't know what I mean.

Mike stares at me thoughtfully for a moment then looks back to the glass in his hand.

"You're pretty loud, princess," he finally says quietly.

There's a new tension in the air. One that isn't brought on by hate or dirty dishes. One that I don't mind strangely.

"You could join us, if you'd like," I offer. Mike's grip on the glass tightens so suddenly I'm almost surprised it doesn't burst.

"I- I'm pretty sure I'd get in the way," he stammers. Then his eyes darken, a strange look in them. "Besides, I don't like being a whore."

This comment stings. Deeply.

"I'm not a whore," I say defensively.

"Oh?" Mike asks.

"He's the only guy I've fucked in months, so yeah," I say.

"Oh, is that why I hear you moaning late at night all the fucking time?" Mike says. "Seriously, you're fucking loud."

"And you're a fucking virgin," I snap.

"Says who?" He asks.

"Forget it," I say. I gather my things and rise from my chair. "Don't fucking talk to me."

"Fine," he scoffs. "I'll wash this dish too, princess," he calls after me.

I spin around. "You would be so much more fuckable if you were easy to swallow," I snapped, stomping my foot like a child.

Both of us stare at each other in a bit of shock at what I just said.

"Most girls swallow just fine, thank you," he retorts.

"Who's the whore now?" I say. I don't wait for him to respond, slamming the door shut behind me.

Fine. Let him hate me. That's the whole point of this anyways. Then it'll be me and someone else in this terrible fucking apartment. Maybe it'll be Nick. Anyone would be better, I tell myself.

...

...how easy is Mike to swallow?

-Friday-

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling to remember the correct name right now.

Nick is underneath me, pumping his cock in and out like no tomorrow as I grind against him. My jaw is slack, my hands buried in the blankets fabric underneath of us. I'm staring at the thin door though, the thin door that I know leaks every little noise whether there's a towel under the enormous crack or not. And the shadows of footsteps that I see make it all the easier for Nick to continue his shallow rhythm, edging me closer and closer.

"Mi-Nick," I moan loudly. It sounds endearing, thankfully. But my heart races at how close I've come to fucking things up in a few different ways. "Fuck, you're thick," I moan. It's not particularly true, but his size is fine, so what's an ego boost to help him along the way?

Nick is sweet underneath of me, moaning that I'm his, that we're each others. That's great and all, but God. There is this missing edge. And it isn't until I hear pounding on the bedroom door that I finally feel real excitement begin to flow through me.

"We need to talk," Mike's voice says firmly.

Nick looks guilty, his eyes wide and asking for silent guidance. I don't respond, simply continuing to slide up and down Nick's cock and moaning while doing so.

"Hey, princess," Mike says firmer, pounding on the door again. "Think you can stop Oh-ing Canada and come talk to me like a fucking adult?"

I don't stop, grinding harder against Nick's base. My hands find my clit, rubbing it as I respond.

"I told you you were welcome to join us," I moan. Nick looks at me like I've gone utterly insane, and maybe I have. Maybe I'm completely delusional about all of this, but I couldn't care less as I feel my dripping cunt tighten to the point even Nick doesn't care what happens so long as he comes inside of me.

"Mi-Nick," I moan. "Mi-ne, mi-ne." Come on, Schmidt. Catch the fucking hint.

All night I had been plauged with dreams about Michael fucking Schmidt. I'd noticed when we met he was attractive to me. I liked his hands, his stubble. God, his shoulders made me think things that will probably send me straight to Hell. But hate usually kept these thoughts at bay. Last night however, the dreams wouldn't stop coming. Over and over, a new fantasy of him emerged in my head. Him underneath of me as a writing mess, him begging for more, my tits in his mouth as he finished inside me. It was depraved. I wanted it.

The door bursts open just as Nick is finishing inside of me. It's the look in Mike's eyes that causes me to finish, all while keeping eye contact with him as well.

Nick is quick to flip me on my back, covering my body haphazardly with a blanket prattling excuse after excuse. Apparently we're sorry. Apparently we had gotten too wrapped up in the moment because apparently, you know how it is, right man?

But it doesn't matter. Mike isn't looking at Nick, who's pulling on his shirt above me. Mike's looking at me, watching my fingers that trail gently along my areolas, flicking lightly at my hardened nipples and clearly longing for more.

"Mike wouldn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman," I say with little thought.

"Oh?" Both of them ask me.

"I think you should leave, Nick. Mike and I are going to have a little talk, and I don't want you to see how ugly this may get," I say without breaking eye contact with Mike.

The sudden shift in the air is not subtle, so maybe that's why Nick doesn't really hesitate to listen to me.

"I'll call you later," he says as he stumbles past Mike.

"Don't bother," Mike calls after him. Mike slams the bedroom door shut, locking it before turning to me and raising an eyebrow.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" Mike asks, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms as his stands tall.

My hand dips to between my thighs where Nick and I's cum pools out, coating me in the thick stuff.

"Sorry," I say in a spoiled tone, smiling.

Mike's eyes scan my entire body. From the hickies coating my neck, to my breasts and even my thighs, I can see a new wave of anger washes over him. At least, it looks like anger. There's something else mixed with it too, something I desperately want to play with.

"You're not sorry for shit," he says. He's correct.

"I told you last night, I like fucking people," I say as my fingers circle my clit.

Mike's jaw tightens. "You like fucking people," he repeats.

I can see him grind his teeth. He's silent for another moment. "And do you like... him?"

I giggle. "You tell me," I say with a soft and low voice.

His eyebrows twitch. "You're still... going?" He asks with an unsure edge to his voice.

"Yes, Michael. This is what a woman looks like when she's turned on," I say in a mocking tone, batting my lashes as my fingers dip into my entrance. "Would you like to try?"

He steps closer, bending down ever so slightly to stand over me.

"Don't call me that," he says in a low growl.

"Make me," I taunt.

He blinks.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A startled yelp escapes me as Mike grabs my hips, dragging me roughly to the edge of the bed. He spreads my legs, stepping between them and slips his rough thumb inside of me with no hesitation.

"Fuck. You do like him," he groans, his other hand fiddling with his belt. I can see how hard he is underneath his jeans, his fingers clumsy but working quickly at the items covering him.

"He's oka-ay," I say quickly, my voice trailing off into a soft moan. His thumb explores the inside of my cunt, probing the wet muscle and massaging inside of me spots a man had never taken time to look for before. "Your finger's thick," I moan.

Mike chuckles, freeing himself and pumping into his hand slowly as he presses his thumb deeper inside of me.

"You told Nick he was thick too," he says. "That just your line with guys?"

It is, but this time I actually mean it. So I shake my head. "No," I say quietly.

"I don't believe you," Mike says. He slips his thumb out of me, making me clench around nothing. I open my mouth to protest only for Mike to quickly shove his thumb into my mouth, touching the back of my throat while he sinks his cock into me.

"Go on, pretty girl," he moans. "Take it like the proud whore you are."

I gag around his thumb, both from the sudden intrusion and from the taste. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't like this, if I said that his actions didn't make me even more wet and that I didn't suck his thumb greedily, wrapping my tongue around it and sucking it clean until I can only taste his rough flesh. I swear it makes his dick twitch.

His cock slides in and out of me with ease, taking his time to feel how I wrap around him.

"Fuck," he drawls. "It's been awhile."

I moan around his thumb, running my tongue along the underside and trying to rock my hips against him to tell him to speed up. Instead, he presses a hand down on my lower stomach, pinning me down as he sinks in fully. At first glance his size is average, but inside of me it's overstimulating how he fills me just a little too much.

His thumb presses further into my throat, making me gag as he tilts his head back in pleasure.

"You are just demanding. Do you know that?" He asks. I try to respond, but he simply presses his thumb against a spot that makes me gag once more.

"Nothing's good enough for you. Not even Nick. You didn't even cum until I came in here," he laughed cruelly, looking down at where we connect. His other thumb trails down to rub my clit slowly, making me writhe underneath him and clench around his still cock.

"Never shutting up. Till now. I like it when you're quiet, princess. Makes you easier to swallow." He presses deeper inside of me, making me whine in overstimulation.

"You're mine now," he says, slowly pulling out. "You can call Nick all you want. Call him, fuck him. But we both know he's not gonna make you cum like I will." Just his tip remains in me, barely staying in before he slams back into me so hard I scream.

"So what's the point?" Mike asks, slowly slipping out once more. "Do you like pitting men against each other like that?" He slams back into me. My eyes water, but I don't protest.

This time when he pulls back, he stays there. I wait for him, trying to he patient. But then he removes his thumb and wraps his hand around his length instead.

"What?" I ask, my voice raw.

"Say it," Mike says as he jerks himself off slowly.

"Say what?" I ask.

"I'm not gonna fuck you like you want unless you say you're mine," he says casually. His tip is bright red and leaking precum, his length coated in Nick and I's milky cum.

"Fuck you," I say. Mike just laughs.

"You're the one laying here crying over some dick," he taunts. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page here, princess."

I try to hold strong, I really do. It'd be more fun if I did. But fuck. The way he stands over me, his shoulders broad. I could never deny I liked the sight of his hands either, and seeing them tug as his pulsing cock while he stared down at me with that stupid fucking smile?

It's not fair.

"I'm yours," I say quietly.

"Hmm?" Mike asks, pumping his dick quicker now. I can see how hard his veins are, and the sounds of him fucking his own hand make me want him more.

"Yours," I repeat slightly louder.

"Use proper English," he says. His face has this stupid blissful look on it, his mouth slightly open as he pants, fucking himself and watching me as he does.

"I am yours," I hiss through gritted teeth. It doesn't even take a full second before he's buried in me once more, his hands pinning my knees to my shoulders and fucking me with enough speed I'm genuinely scared he'll hurt me. And I love it.

"I'm going to make you mine," he grins, his voice suddenly turning feral.

"I'm going to make you mine so much that you won't even be able to remember what Nick's name is, let alone what he looks like. Or what he feels like."

"Uh huh," I whine. My voice is so unusually high and ragged, my mouth slack and eyes rolling back in pleasure. I rock against his hips, trying to find my second edge. I'm babbling, whether I'm asking for mercy or more is anyone's guess.

He laughs at me, and it's a harsh and cruel laugh - not at all like the usual sarcasm and mockery he displays. Instead, his laugh comes from a place that is raw and angry and vicious, the kind of laugh a wolf makes when he's about to go for the kill.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Not quite the big, bad man that he's made you think he was, is he? How disappointing," he continues, his hips thrusting into me repeatedly.

I cry loudly with each new thrust. His movements are cruel, borderline abusive. Christ, I love it.

"Bigger," I whine. "Bigger."

He teeth nip at my throat, sinking in hard enough I'll be wearing sweaters and scarves for weeks. Makeup won't touch the color.

"Bigger?" He asks in a mocking voice. "What's bigger?"

"You're bigger," I moan. My voice is broken, and there's no way the neighbors don't hear the degeneracy occurring around them. Sorry, Mrs. Jones.

"What are you going for?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his voice growing more and more vicious. "Big bad Mike?" he giggles, his grip tightening on my ankles as he continues plunging into me.

A loud scream escapes me as Mike finds my g spot. He doesn't relent, focusing on the spot and abusing it while I sob and try to wiggle away, completely overstimulated from pleasure and unable to handle it.

His hands pin me against him, trapping me where I am and forcing me to take him however he wants me to.

"You want more?" he asks, taking one hand away from my ankles, grabbing and pulling my hair harshly, forcing me to stare into his eyes. His pupils are so blown out I can't even see his pretty hazel irises. They're dark and predatory, his breath hot and heavy with rage.

"Is that what you want?" he asks, pulling back and plunging into my aching cunt again.

"Yes!" It's a violent scream that escapes me, feeling myself begin to tip over the edge. His eyes sparkle, his lips in a smile that shows he knows he's won.

"And what would Nick say if he could see you like this? All mine, all mine..." he taunts.

"Huh?" I'm completely stupid, my body coming undone so suddenly around his dick with cries, screams, whimpers and everything inbetween. Nick was foreplay and I've no mental energy to remember any detail that isn't Mike's.

"Don't even know his name?" Mike laughs. "You can't even remember his name, can you?" he grins, his eyes narrow again as he tugs my hair and shoves himself in further.

"Uh uh," I pant in a high voice. My body shakes terribly, his pounding length already edging me once more as he continues abusing my spot. How on earth am I supposed to walk after this?

"Then let me help you remember his name," he says. "Say his name."

"Mike," I moan pathetically. I'm right back on that edge, crying and feeling as though I'll burst from overstimulation.

"Louder," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Say it louder. Say his name loud enough for him to hear you."

"Mike!" I scream it religiously as I come undone a second time, gripping him to the point I can feel how close he is too. I hear him laugh above me, his other hand now wrapping around my throat and choking me slightly.

"That's my name," he says with mocking gentleness. "Say his name or I won't finish."

"I don't remember," I sob. Jesus Christ, do I have problems? "Just want you!"

His face glows, his lips split into a wide grin of satisfaction.

"So you want me, do you, princess?"

I nod pathetically. He's throbbing, slamming into me hard enough it may draw a third climax in a row.

His laugh is cruel above me, his lips landing on top of mine in a wet, possessive kiss. His tongue fills my mouth, forcing me to take him as the sounds of him fucking me like a depraved animal makes me whine in desperation.

He pulls away, a long string of spit between us connecting our lips.

"Then I'll give you what you want, princess," he says. "But there's a price."

"Uh huh," I agree. My eyes roll back as my body twitches, barely able to focus as he thrusts into me.

"Look at me," he says patiently, tugging my hair once more. When I manage to remember how, he let's out a long 'aw,' smiling down at me with false sweetness as I stare dumbly into his eyes. I suppose I'm staring into his eyes. God, I'm stupid.

His thumb grazes my jaw, tutting as he examines my face closely.

"Your eyes are pretty...*" he says, his voice sweet and tender, almost like I've made him soft and vulnerable, but his cock pounding into me causes the beginning of a headache that won't let me forget how much we hate each other. "Your eyes are pretty, your mouth is pretty..."

I lick my lips and nod lightly.

"You are just such a pretty girl, aren't you?" He asks. I nod, my body twitching uselessly as my third climax washes over me.

"Good girl," he praises. "All fucked out over me. That's good."

Suddenly and without warning, he pulls out quickly and shoves my face down close to his cock, coming all over my face. It's thick and everywhere. In my hair, my mouth. I can't even open my eyes.

"Stay like that," Mike commands as he lays me on my back. His softening cock reenters me and pumps lazily, his purpose to make sure he's fully emptied.

"Any new thoughts?" He asks me in a strange tone, light and amused. I simply moan, relishing the moment. He chuckles and spreads my legs so he can better see what is happening between us. It isn't until I hear the chime of his camera confirming a recording that I realize what he's done.

"Mike?" I ask, barely able to think straight.

A low laugh escapes him, cruel but warm.

"I want to show your new boyfriend the real you," he says. "Make sure we're all on the same page here, right?

...Fuck me, I have problems.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Thanks for reading, pookies. See y'all in hell.

Masterlist

#yes nick is nick brady from paradise lost #i couldnt help myself #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 6 months

Text

Halloween prompts year 2 day 23

Au where Danny hides his powers and eldrich nature from his husband Tim and Tim hides his vigilante career from Danny.

Both are very successful and neither suspects a thing. Tim had originally planned to admit to being a hero at some point but they were always either interrupted or it just wasn't the right time and then Danny had mentioned a few times during thier engagement and marriage that he couldn't handle being with a superhero or vigilante and that it was a deal breaker. Unfortunately Tim was already deeply in love and couldn't bare to break up with him so now he lives in fear of Danny finding out and blackmailed the rest of the family into never letting it slip.

Danny is in a similar situation, ever since the portal incident people were afraid of his other half and no matter how hard he tried they always ended up hating him. He loved Tim and couldn't bare the thought of his husband having that same look of terror. Of hate. So he hid. Its all he could do. Back when he and his friends went on that road trip and gained the power of the reality gauntlet he had tried to undo his undeath entirely only to find out Danny had glitches spacetime enough that even if he undid it (which the gauntlet was incapable of doing) he would eventually wind up with the portal opening up on top of him at another date. Call it fate or destiny or whatever you like. He was stuck like this.

So he did the next best thing. He erased any proof he had ever existed. Even from the minds of his own friends. He then skipped town-or in this case universes- and used the gauntlets power to carve out a false identity in this new world full of heroes and hope

Luckly there was no one who could rat him out...until some blond guy in a trenchcoat started following him around the grocery store and talking to him. At first Danny was a little confused and annoyed but when he asked what the blond guy wanted he asked, "I wanna know what you are." And Danny went pale.

Constantine then proceeded to blackmail Danny into helping him with a case or else he would expose his dirty little secret to Tim.

Danny made the a deal, ensuring that it would only be this one time. He told Tim that he was being blackmailed but insinuated that it was something petty between him and some of the other high society house spouses. The kind of drama that Tim always made extra sure to steer clear of. He swore to Tim he was this close to spiking Bethanys muffins with a laxative in retaliation for something and Tim gave helper suggestions for how to do it without being caught while they got ready for the day.

Ever since Alfred passed away it was up to Danny and a few other people to keep the Waynes from falling apart. Honestly, no one realized how much that man did until he wasn't around anymore.

To be fair he pretty much spoiled Tim by picking up after him to the point the man can't function after a few days. If Danny ever had to leave Tim alone for prolonged periods of time he would return to a giant mess and something burning in the kitchen.

Danny would clean, Tim would spew a fountains worth of apologizes, he would forgive Tim (as if he was ever mad in the first place. This just reaffirmed that Tim needed him to protect and care for him, making his core vibrate in happiness) then they would...reacquaint themselves. He nearly shifted forms the first few times this happened. That would be one heck of a way for Tim to find out about his ghost half.

Danny smiled, thinking about those memories. He truly adored Tim and couldn't imagine a life without him. He would just have to make sure this trench coated guy never came anywhere near his precious husband.

John would really like to know what this entity was and what it wanted with the Wayne brat. It couldn't really be in love with the kid, could it? He had personally seen these relationships work out before but there many more he had seen that hadn't. He didn't want to take that risk, so he needed to get close enough to evaluate the situation himelf.

#halloween prompts #dpxdc #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #fanfiction prompts #tim drake #brain dead #dead tired #red robin #yum #red robin dc #danny phantom x red robin #married brain dead #married dead tired #does Constantine know that the wayne are the bats in this? you decide #Constantine may have flirted with Danny at some point but danny shut that down fast. He was a monster but not a cheater.#Danny refuses to betray Tim

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 6 months

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Hello there sagau brain rot like in many sagau versions reader/creator are often to soft to kind to my taste and then Idea comes to my head what if creator reader shows his cruler uncaring side to the pepole he truly hates or thinks deserve thier wrath like I can image that in place of raiden shogun the creator kills Singniora after begin defeated by traveler, azar the grand sage after whole begin in that day loop, and scaramouche when he had audacity to think that by begin inside giant mech he is now a God becose even if the creator is the kindest begin in tevyat.....his wrath has no bounds

@zardas75 welcome back to my very dead mailbox LOL—Let me see what I can come up with with your brainrot.

I don't fully get the Raiden Shogun vs Signora part, so I'm going to (unfortunately) not include that in this post.

The Creator Being Moody Fr (Jkjk—Unless? 👀)

(Disclaimer: Might Be OOC & Spoilers to the Genshin Impact Archon Quest Lore!)

Boy oh boy...where to begin...

To put it simply: It's Azar's Fault. Blame and point your fingers to the rusty old man, bois, we ain't forgiving him any time soon. It all started with him.

The moment you saw him in the Archon Quest, you knew, without even needing the slightest hint of evidence, that you did not like him and he was sus.

And when things escalated throughout the Archon Quest, you swore so loudly it shook the entire nation of Sumeru, if not all of Teyvat.

Here were Some of the Sumeru People's Reactions:

Cyno

He finished his confrontation with Azar and was waiting outside when you swore like your life depended on it. During his entire time being under your presence, Cyno was aware of how much you hated the guy—every moment you had gotten, you were seething and spouting insults from your mouth about Azar.

Even the General Mahamatra was stunned and shocked to the very core. He didn't you could and would do this.

And when you made it clear that your tantrum was yet to end, Cyno just braced himself for the fate of Sumeru to be in your hands.

"At least Azar is truly facing the wrathful judgement of the gods..." he mutters to himself, trying to convince himself of the situation at hand.

(Meanwhile You in the background: "YOU MF HOW DARE YOU. HOW DARE YOUUUU I WILL F—KING KILL YOU IF YOU CONTINUE THIS YOU SON OF A B—")

Scaramouche & Nahida

(Decided to add them both here since It's the False God Fight. This is kinda for the sake of convenience—)

Nahida never knew such intense emotion could ever erupt from Their High, Almighty Grace, and here you are, cursing and insulting Scaramouche. It wasn't as bad as Azar's, since you weren't throwing in any "I will have your head by morning" or anything similar threats, but it was still pretty intense.

Scaramouche, on the other hand, has heard you yelling at the old man Azar, and he already been yelled at for—quote on quote—"killing Teppei" (REST IN PEACE, TEPPEI 😭), so he knows what your wrath was like.

He did not like it then, and he still doesn't like it now. That much was a solid fact. Nevertheless, he has an image to uphold, especially in front of that Buer.

"Their Almighty Grace is really mad..." Nahida thought as they were confronting Scaramouche. (Cue you in the background still insulting Azar) "And it seems they won't be forgiving Azar anytime soon..."

"So, Their Grace still hasn't let go of their grudge against me..." Scaramouche mutters to himself once he was out of the view of Their Almighty Grace in his mecha. "Tch. Whatever...I'll make them see my true potential one I've squashed these insects."

Dehya

She knew you were explosive. She's seen it happen by the way you were cheering to beat Rahman's ass and "save the kid's grandpa!"

She knew you were pretty emotional on behalf of them. She's pretty happy and honored about that—that means Teyvat meant a lot to you.

What she was not expecting was to hear you curse and scream at Azar at the top of your lungs, as if that was the only enjoyment you were able to indulge yourself in.

You sounded murderous, and yet here you were, just yelling. Dehya would've shrugged it off, since she understood getting things out of your system was good, but she was not expecting the world to shake with your voice.

She looks over at Rahman. "You think Their Grace is handling this well?" "Probably not...Hard to say, Dehya." "Well, we'll just have to wait it out, then. They'll get it out of their system...eventually..."

Dehya was not expecting to wait until after beating the False God for it to be truly over. Gosh, that was scary...

Tighnari

He sensed that you didn't like Azar the moment you saw him, and frankly, he's pretty glad you don't trust him too. What he wasn't expecting was your explosive personality.

For all the stories about the Almighty Creator's kind and gentle nature, you were ANYTHING but. And you were proving it HARD.

Tighnari thought he heard it all when he got struck by lightning. Boy, was he wrong, because you just one-upped his expectations with the amount of cussing, cursing, threats, and insults you were hurtling in one go, streaming out of your mouth like you were running a marathon with your words.

So here he was, waiting in some form of dread in Pardis Dhyai, waiting if you were going to strike down the Akademiya with your godly might.

"I hope they don't accidentally blow up all of Sumeru..." he mutters to himself as he prays to all the archons that the nation wouldn't be turned into water or something.

Alhaitham

He should have taken account of your behaviour to the plan. You did play a crucial part. That was the sole mistake he overlooked.

Then again...it didn't seem like you were doing anything other than yelling at Azar...So perhaps the plan wouldn't change all that much.

He should keep in mind of how reactive you are, though. You...remind of his roommate sometimes...

"Hm. It seems Their Grace has yet to let Azar go of their scandal." He says it so calmly as he waits in Aaru Village. Candace stands a few feet away, looking unsure of what was going on—and probably praying that Their Almighty Grace won't strike down Sumeru in their anger against the rogue Grand Sage.

And let's not talk about the Traveler or Paimon. Those two are both used to it and still terrified. But they're okay with you dw 👍

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: IM COMING BACK WOOO! I'm so excited! There's been quite a few more requests than I usually got back in the past, so I'm a little stoked. They'll be out real soon, but I hope you enjoy this one! Hopefully I'll have time to do them all! :D

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin self aware #sagau #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #genshin cult au #sagau brainrot #sagau cult au #sagau nahida #sagau scaramouche #self awareness #sagau cyno #sagau dehya #sagau tighnari #sagau alhaitham

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moony-2001 · 5 months

Text

The real-world impact of Lore Olympus

i.e. do your research Rachel

Trigger warning: racism, fetishization, appropriation, mentions of SA

Long post ahead

A while ago, someone told me that Lore Olympus was just a silly little comic written out of boredom. That it was made to be "funny". They told me that "[I] can't hope [for] an extremely [well-written] story when it was just made with the intention to make something goofy" and that if Rachel actually wanted to make something serious like I had, she would write a book and not a comic.

At the time of this exchange, it was past 1 a.m. and I was exhausted. I did not want to argue with this person and it simply wasn't worth my time or energy in the moment.

But looking back at that (mostly one-sided) interaction, I can't help but think that there is so much wrong with that point of view. Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinion about Lore Olympus, whether good or bad. But Lore Olympus isn't just some silly little nothing comic about nothing important. It is a comic that actively appropriates and erases Greek Culture. It is a comic that has no respect for the actual stories that have been passed down over thousands of years whether by word of mouth or written text. It is a comic that perpetuates a false narrative and harmful stereotypes about characters or certain groups of people. So, no, it's not just a silly little comic.

Incorrect information

Here’s an example of what I mean:

When I was doing research for my post about the 10 year time skip, I looked up Leuce to reconfirm the little information I knew about her. Wanna guess the first thing that popped up about her?

A Lore Olympus Wiki article.

Okay. How about Minthe? Hundreds of pictures of her from Lore Olympus and a LO Wiki article as one of the top 3 results. Both character are horribly represented in LO and unfortunately there isn’t really any documented stories or records that can refute how LO paints them. Because of this, other characters in Greek Mythology like Leuce and Minthe, whose stories have little to no documentation, stand to suffer the most harm from deliberate misrepresentation on Rachel’s part.

Of course well-known and better documented figures in Greek mythology face slander as well. What about Thetis or Leto? How about Apollo? All of their portrayals in LO are HORRIBLE. I have seen people online absolutely drag them to filth not because they're upset about how the character is portrayed compared to their mythological counterpart, but because they have no knowledge of how they are actually portrayed outside of LO. They just assume that's how the characters are. Similarly, people who have either very little or no prior knowledge of Greek Mythology and Culture would look at the comic and go "Yep, sounds legit. It must be true." and go about thinking that what is portrayed in LO is accurate to what was transcribed thousands of years ago.

Creative interpretations and racism/fetishization within LO

Don’t get me wrong. Creative interpretations and artistic liberties can be great. When they’re done tastefully. I personally think if done correctly, a Greek myth spun in a modern way has the potential be very good. But that's not what we were given.

Characters like Minthe, Leuce, and Thetis (all nymphs btw) are portrayed as trashy tramps who put out and are used as a foil sabotage Persephone and/or her relationship with Hades. Compare that to Greek Mythology where in the Iliad, Thetis is very well-respected by the gods, particularly Hera. Unfortunately, other similar characters like satrys (and basically any character that isn’t a god) are usually portrayed as a low-class POC that can be easily exploited, manipulated, or used as a temporary villain/lover/pawn to “get back” at Persephone, our white-coded protagonist who can do no wrong.

Additionally, there is a clear race/class bias against characters like nymphs in LO. We see many cases scattered throughout the comic of gods like Hera or Aphrodite referring to nymphs as "trash" or "low class" or the idea that nymphs do not belong with gods being heavily implied if not outright said. I cannot tell you how often I've seen Minthe be called some variant of "cheap" by the readers of LO. Even Persephone (who created the flower nymphs) treats them with such disrespect. She frequently calls them some variant of "stupid" or "simple" like saying how they're not the sharpest crayons in the box even though she's the one WHO MADE THEM. However, it's so odd not really to note that nymphs like Echo, Amphitrite, or Psyche (who was previously disguised as a nymph) are not discriminated against. This is because they are liked or trusted by the gods they are around and ergo are often portrayed as the "good ones", which is a disgusting mindset to have.

We also see the fetishization of nymphs in the comic that is disturbingly similar to the fetishization of women who are Black, Asian, or Latina. It is a known fact that Hades has a flower nymph fetish. Not only is this implied in the comic, but Rachel stated it outright in an old Patreon post. Nymphs are also generally treated as sex-symbols, disposable, and as a lesser-than. Zeus frequently displays this behavior by abandoning nymphs he knocked up in the mortal realm.

For example, when Persephone finds out Apollo is dating Daphne, she isn't upset he's dating her friend. She's upset he's dating a flower nymph, beings that are generally considered to be "rare", "dumb", and objects of sexual desire. Ew.

Even on the Lore Olympus website (loreolympians.com) nymphs are regarded as "beautiful", "desirable", and "very exotic". And when they're not described in a sexual manner they're say it with me now regarded as "low class" or "workers" for some kind of god/goddess.

Final thoughts

So not only is the characterization of characters like Minthe or Thetis harmful to Greek culture and the stories that are so ingrained in their society, but it is also perpetuating harmful stereotypes about people of color and women who are confident in their sexuality.

Of course, the characters within Greek Mythology had their own issues. Zeus was a serial rapist, many of the goddesses deemed to be "feminist" by today's standards were actually horribly misogynistic looking at you Athena. But 1. that's just how things were back then (but that does not make it right) and 2. all of the good, the bad, and the ugly is still there in Greek Mythology. They're not denying how fucked up it is, but they're also not changing their history to better fit their own narrative or the narrative of the modern world. It exists, it happened, but now it is studied and called out by historians.

Rachel, on the other hand, is doing exactly that. She is actively changing the Greek's cultural history to better fit her fic's narrative. She is constantly sweeping things under the rug or going "No this is how it ACTUALLY happened". Lore Olympus is marketed as a "feminist retelling" yet somehow, it takes allllll the ugly parts from Greek Mythology (rape, incest, problematic age gaps, dubious consent, etc.), mixes it with a majority of the issues we have in the modern world (white feminism, rape-apologists/rape culture, grooming, fetishization of certain minority groups, etc.) and then amplifies the concoction to 20. Lore Olympus cannot be a "progressive, feminist, retelling" and also have characters that are morally apprehensive/come straight from the ancient myths. It does not work. In fact, IMO it makes all the problems from both eras worse.

News flash: actual cultures that are still thriving today are not your toys. They are not "made up". They matter. Do better.

#anti lore olympus #lore olympus #anti lo persephone #anti lo #lore olympus criticism #lore olympus critical #lo critic #lo critical #unpopular lo #unpopular lore olympus #appropriation #greek mythology #if anyone who is actually Greek wants to comment on this or share their thoughts please feel free #I'm not Greek but I have a deep love for mythology/Greek culture so this is just my take on things

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ataraxiaspainting · 4 months

Text

Montero.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: It was easy to find you.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, and major power imbalance.

Word Count: 700.

*~*~*~*

Satoru left the door unlocked again. He also left the keys on the table and some money. It was so obviously a trap. But how could you resist such an offer to get away from a man who has taken control of your entire life and forced you to be his little stay-at-home girlfriend? When you think about it later, after you were caught a few weeks later, after emptying every ATM you come across, using Satoru's stolen credit and debit cards, after buying yourself a motel room and passing out drunk, after buying one train ticket after another with the aim of getting to Japan's border and either sneaking onto a boat or purchasing a pass to get on. You thought of how to divide your stolen money, whether to sneak onto the ship or buy a ticket to not be arrested and thrown back into Satoru's suffocating arms. Unfortunately for you, Satoru already knew where you were, what you were doing, everything. He was always one step ahead of you.

You never know what is going on inside his head. It is both a blessing and a curse. You never know what he is going to do to you. But you also are not broken because Satoru, ironically enough, still has enough self-control to let you have some independence. Emphasis on some. It is mostly shown through moments exactly like this. But the independence is still false, like a painting of a door on a wall.

It may look good from afar, but it is unusable. It is only good for looking at and hoping that whatever higher power there is will eventually turn into a real door because you are not God. You are not God, and you cannot create things, living or not. Satoru knows this. You come to know it. In this world, Satoru is the closest thing to a god, you think.

He expects you to worship him as one too.

You used to, long ago. How could you resist being captivated by him, with his radiant presence and gleaming white appearance, emanating a comforting warmth and possessing eyes as vast as the boundless sky? Though his teachings were cryptic and filled with bewildering references to cursed energy and haunting visions, you swallowed them like sacred doctrine, like the finest wine in all the land, embracing him as your rescuer. He had liberated you from darkness and vowed to keep you immersed in luminosity. Whatever his true nature, it was divine enough for your devotion.

But you don’t anymore. You don’t know whether Satoru misses your praising words or not. But you don’t see him as the devil either, anymore. You blame him for the bottles and bottles you drink and drink in those motel rooms, using abandoned restrooms infested with rats, and soon having nothing to eat because you used all of your money out of impulse, out of fear. But deep down, you blame yourself for being caught back in Satoru’s web. Because, against everything and everyone telling you not to, you tried to get past security and sneak onto a boat to South Korea.

It made finding you all the easier, Satoru told you. He knew what you were doing the whole time, when you bought enough beer to nearly give you lethal alcohol poisoning, when he came to rescue you from the nearest police station, from the police officers interrogating you and threatening violence and insulting you with every word in the book. As much as you want to blame him entirely, you know some of it was you. He didn’t force you to do anything. You could have just stayed where you were placed and waited for him to come back. You are human, not immune to sin indulgence, and selfishness. So is Satoru. Neither of you are God, and neither of you are Satan.

But oh how you wish that either of you were. No matter who gets the power, at least there is some difference between you.

Because Satoru and you are many things, but self-sacrificing isn’t one of them. Both of you know that, and you hate it. Satoru loves it.

#author aya #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere gojo #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #yandere satoru gojo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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malleusfucker · 2 years

Text

malleus draconia relationship headcanons

this is basically a part 2 of his kinks & hcs post but i am very much a whore for this man so i NEED. TO. WRITE SOME SHIT.

warnings: smut/nsfw, malleus being a loser virgin, it gets very smutty at the nsfw part so, oral (receiving + giving), unprotected sex, two dicks, implied corruption/humiliation kink, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, choking/biting, mal being lowkey sadistic, sleepy sex, holy shit there are alot of warnings i am sorry, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified

words: 2.5k

sfw

this is some serious sappy shit but i can’t help it 😭😭 i am literally so in love with this man damn

~ right off the bat, malleus would definitely be the best boyfriend ever and no one can convince me otherwise (or at least one of the best out of the twst cast cuz there’s some uh questionable characters in that list *idia and leona i am directly looking at you*)

~ the way your relationship builds up with malleus is agonisingly slow. he’s very cautious about who he gets close to and is definitely not one to make any bold moves—especially if he doesn’t feel like you’re reciprocating the same feelings—but oh boy. once you do, that’s when he gets a bit more excited.

~ it won’t take long before you pick up on the little things he suddenly starts doing for you. waiting for you after class, asking to visit the library with him after college hours, hell, even just waiting outside ramshackle dorm until you notice him just so he can spend time with you alone. his signs of affection are very straightforward because that’s what he likes them to be. he doesn’t want to confuse you or think that he might be giving false signals. though he might as well be holding up a sign saying “i love you” with the way his infatuation for you is so painfully obvious.

~ malleus is so new to all this stuff, so it’s down to you to show him the ropes. kiss him, hold his hand, hug him. he needs these acts of affection practically every hour of the day as that's what all the books he’s memorised word for word have drilled into his head. he’s completely clueless. but that’s what you’re here for - to help lead the way and show him just how special a relationship can be.

~ and once you initiate things, a stupid smile will permanently be plastered over his face. not missing any opportunity to pick you up from your classes and walk you to your dorm—his love language is just being with you—not even having to touch you but still feeling his heart racing with him just being in your company. he can never get over that someone like you can accept everything about him, loving him for all that he is - ignoring all of the labels attached, and just showing you genuinely care for him as a person.

~ gifts will be a reoccurring thing that you will have to grow accustomed to, expressing his love for you by showering you with kind sentiments such as little presents and items. whether it's gems or tiny rare crystals, it'll always find its way to you - he particularly loves giving you things you can wear, like necklaces or bracelets, crafting them just for you so that every time you wear them, you're reminded of him.

~ but one thing you’re unfortunately going to have to get used to is sebek basically praying on your downfall every single moment he gets. he’s appalled that such a lowly human—one that’s not even capable of performing magic—is hanging around with malleus, let alone being intimate with him. you’re gonna get an earful any time you head over to diasomnia - with you and malleus having to rush straight to his room to avoid prying eyes from not only sebek but also the students too.

~ on the topic of prying eyes, people will be curious - more specifically, lilia. this little shit will tease you both all day every day. asking you very personal things so then he can have his “proud father” moment. cheering and applauding at even the sight of you two simply holding hands - he is embarrassing and it’s evident when you spot the faintest blush spreading across malleus’ cheeks as you walk around campus, muttering under his breath if you can both go somewhere “quieter” (aka as far away from lilia as possible).

~ these wandering eyes definitely don’t help with the fact that this man is extremely possessive. he wants you to have your freedom and experience your time at the college to the fullest but it doesn’t mean that his eye won’t start to twitch at the sight of you being “friendly” with your classmates. having experienced the happiness of being in a serious relationship for the first time, he never wants to let that sensation fade. he’s making up for lost time. being so alone for all the long years of his life will only make him needy, clinging to the thing he loves the most with such an iron grip that he's certain it can't possibly escape from him.

~ but once you do have your alone time, malleus is milking every second of it just pampering and giving you affection. nuzzling his face against your neck, he always loves trailing small wet kisses down your collarbone, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear as you feel yourself drift off with the way he’s lovingly holding you in his arms. when he wants to be, this man is the epitome of gentle. treating you as if you were carved out of glass as he softly caresses your skin, feeling your warmth against him as much as possible just so he can then later reminisce about how soft you feel.

~ did someone say big spoon? nope. not quite. despite how giant this man is, he enjoys taking the roles of being both the big and little spoon quite seriously. with his arms wrapped around you tightly, he’ll cling and cuddle you the entire night, the sensation of his embrace never leaving your side once and waking up with him still gently holding you.

and expect to return the favour on your part. who said that this man won’t become pouty if you don’t snuggle up and spoon him? cuz he sure as hell will. you won’t ever realise it, but when you end up doing the cuddling - malleus literally ascends to heaven. this is so unfamiliar to him so having your warmth just envelope him for the night makes him act as if he was a baby, curling up and intertwining his fingers with yours as he holds your hand close to his chest.

~ if you’re not a morning person, then luckily for you, you’ll become one. not only will you wake up with malleus having his arms around you but no matter the time - he’ll be ready to awaken you with endless kisses, gently planting one on your forehead as you slowly open your eyes. since you and malleus rarely have any quality one-on-one time outside of the morning—he will always devote them to you. he’ll constantly be on you, getting you ready and dressed for the day, preparing you breakfast whilst taking careful note of what you like and dislike so that he can always improve.

he does it all basically.

~ fortunately or unfortunately for you, pda is something malleus isn't too big of a fan of. he deems that anything intimate or romantic should only be shared between the two of you, alone. though he definitely won't deny your advances if you lightly kiss him on the cheek outside of class - he won't exactly encourage it either. a brief peck is all it takes to send him scurrying back into his shell since even being alone with you makes him nervous. though he wishes he could shout out to the world how much he loves you, even the most powerful mage in the college have their weak points sometimes, his eyes widening and cheeks heating up at the idea of you merely hugging him.

nsfw

~ the first time you had sex with malleus - yeah, it was a straight up nightmare. his wide and extensive knowledge of everything apparently stops specifically at sex with the way he’s so clueless. it was to the point that you didn’t think it was even possible for this to be the same person. teach him and he’ll learn - that’s all that there is to it. these moments of blatant naivety fade pretty quick with malleus picking up on everything you tell him almost instantly. this man is so determined to pleasure you with everything that you’ve done for him, prioritising your needs above his 99% of the time so that he can feel like he’s finally giving back to you.

~ he manages to master everything so well in such a short span of time that it’s scary. not even being able to recall your own name by the time he’s done with you, and that time being hours. he spends so long pleasuring you, doing everything in the book so that every time you have sex together, it’s something new and not anything you’ve experience before. but merely just having sex with this man is anything but usual, it. is. overwhelming. even when he’s being gentle with you, you will still be crying with him hitting every spot so good that it makes you think that you may have genuinely gone insane.

~ malleus doesn't see it as just having sex, but rather as one of the few opportunities he has to demonstrate his love for you, and thus he loves making the experience go as long as possible. he wants you to feel it, and feel it; you definitely do. your legs will be shaking so viciously just from his tongue being in between your legs, fearing for how much your body can physically take before he finally decides to fuck you.

~ and once he does, run. RUN AS FAR AWAY AS POSSIBLE cuz this man won’t let you rest, not even once. his immense stamina soon becomes apparent after the first round, his breath still being as even as it was to begin with, the only difference being - his hunger. increasing so much each time you cum, it becomes practically impossible for him to stop fucking the daylights out of you and breaking the bed every. single. time.

~ speaking of bed breaking - you’re fortunate that malleus has the power to fix and put things back together because if he didn’t, it’d be pretty embarrassing having to ask for a new bed every week. it happens 90% of the time with the way he’s so fucking intense, thrusting and driving into you so deep you swore you saw the roof crumbling at one point. he’s so passionate in devoting all his love to you that he can’t help taking it a bit overboard, though what 5 rounds are to you feels like child's play to him. that just being a small portion of how he really feels, if he wanted to, he’d probably spend days just fucking and filling you up non-stop.

~ although being someone so polite and well-mannered, all that decorum is left right at the door. make out sessions will become heated with his fangs wandering and hunting for the best place to dig into, marking your skin so much that he’s confident he claimed you as his own. malleus just loves seeing how much his touches can affect you, the imprint of his fingers still lingering on your neck from when he was gently squeezing it with your eyes rolling back as he repeatedly pounded you with his cocks.

~ for someone as loving and gentle as he is, it feels wrong with how sadistic malleus’ intentions sometimes seem to be. he won’t hesitate to suddenly shove your face into the mattress, brutally stripping you of any remaining innocence as he quietly praises how good you are to him. malleus really brings a whole new meaning to the term “mind-fuck”, drilling into both your body and your mind that he can only make you feel like this and that no one can pleasure you to the extent that he does.

~ he’ll forever love the sight of you pathetically crawling up to him, fumbling with his belt as you desperately try to get his dicks out of his pants, only for you to choke any time you want to suck him off. when you attempt to give him a blowjob, he surprisingly prefers just watching the sight of you get yourself off whilst trying to take him into your mouth more than the actual feeling of it. best believe if you become that horny to try this, he’ll rarely spare you a glance; instead, he’ll just continue reading his book until he finally looks down and sees you hopelessly lapping up all of his cum like a starving animal.

~ malleus would never humiliate you. more so, he just likes messing you up so much that you end up doing it yourself. getting so drunk on his words and body that you can’t resist but beg for him to fuck you full of his semen, being so limp and frail you’ll have to rely on him carrying you everywhere you go - which he’ll definitely be delighted to do, the sensation of your feeble grip on him as he guides you gently to bed never fails to make him smile.

~ of course, sex and foreplay come with his inescapable thirst for wanting to breed you. whether you can have kids or not, it doesn’t matter to him - he’ll pin your legs up to your chest and fuck into you so hard, relentlessly pumping his seed into you to the extreme that you start to believe that he might actually just miraculously bless you with his offspring. here is when his collected and calm facade starts to slip; he is so genuinely terrified of losing what he has with you, and if reminding you of who your boyfriend is is what it takes to keep you from leaving, then he will be more than willing to do it constantly.

~ sleepy sex will be a thing, so get used to it. or rather, you’re the sleepy one in the situation. god forbid you have a wet dream because he’s going to POUNCE. he always thinks of these instances as your mind subconsciously pleading for him to fuck you—and while that might actually be the case—he was gonna do it regardless. carefully pulling your delicate body towards him to avoid waking you before slowly slipping himself inside you. he can’t get enough of the way you writhe beneath him so helplessly, your eyelids fluttering as you involuntarily start to moan and whimper. when i say this man won’t let you rest, I MEAN IT. even in your sleep, he won’t give you any peace. gently thrusting into you when you begin to feel yourself start to awaken, his giant form looming over you in the darkness with your mewls growing louder by the second.

~ but overall this man is a sweetheart when it comes to sex (most of the time), only behaving in such a frantic way to display how much you mean to him, which is a lot. sex is definitely a big thing for malleus because it’s really one of the only ways he thinks a couple can truly express their love to each other. despite being a complete menace one day with all the marking and bruising he gives you - he'll always turn around and love you tenderly the next.

the malleus brainrot is REAL and its here to stay good lord im not called malleusfucker for nothing

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halsteadlover · 29 days

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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested by @hart-kinsella: Maybe him and mc are working undercover (but they're married in real life) and a guy tries too hard with her (takes her by the arm and invades her personal space as well as trying to flirt with her with words) and then Jay tells him that and punches him. They could be at a club like that one episode when he and Hailey (and Kevin, maybe? I don't remember exactly) were undercover - unfortunately I don't recall which season it was.

• Warnings: mention of drugs, violence.

• Word count: 1543.

• A/N: I know this is not my best work and I apologize 😭 but I managed to quickly write it so I can post something ❤️ and tell me why I stayed for half an hour staring at the wall to think about a title and I ended up with this one 😭 btw love you all and thank you always for your support

It was no secret Jay sometimes hated undercover missions. Especially if you were involved.

He couldn’t help it. He knew you were an amazing cop, one of the best he ever worked with, capable of defending yourself in any circumstances but since you were also his wife, he couldn’t help but worry about you.

And this case was no different.

You and Jay were undercover due to a drug trafficking case, him as a potential buyer interested in purchasing the drugs, you as his work partner who had set up the connection with Joshua Ryder, the criminal suspected of being the gang’s leader.

Jay was on the verge of losing his mind, not being able to stay still and acting like nothing was happening.

You were both in a club, sitting in a VIP room while you talked with Ryder and convince him to make a deal with you. The rest of the team were instead in some fake company’s vans listening to your conversations in real time.

However, things started to go wrong when Jay noticed one of the traffickers approaching you in a way he didn’t like at all.

“Are you here to do business or watch her like a hawk?” the gang leader had insisted for the umpteenth time while for the umpteenth time Jay directed his gaze towards you who continued to giggle with fake enthusiasm with one of Ryder’s henchmen.

You were uncomfortable, as with any mission that involved getting close to another man other than your husband. You knew it was your job, that you had a duty to fulfill and your private life had to stay out of it but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.

“You sure you don’t want anything to drink, sugar?” Asked the man who insistently continued to hit on you. You didn’t even know his name – or care to know – but you smiled anyway with fake naivety, slightly shaking your head.

You quickly glanced at Jay who was sitting in front of you, noticing he was busy talking to Ryder, but his gaze met yours for a moment. It was brief but in that simple look you understood he too had noticed that guy’s insistence. Jay had his arms crossed over his chest, breathing heavy, his jaw clenched as he saw how this man insisted on getting closer to you.

He was disgusting, he smelled of alcohol from miles away, and you had to repress the urge to vomit and the instinct to punch his ugly face.

The man approached further, sliding on the sofa towards you and you moved back, trying to create further distance but without making it obvious and making him suspicious.

“You know, my boss is quite jealous of his employees, you shouldn’t be so close to me,” you falsely giggled but he didn’t seem to get the hint, in fact, it seemed to amuse him even more.

“We’re all one big family here darling, what’s mine is someone else’s and what’s someone else’s is mine…” He rested an arm on the back of the sofa behind your shoulders and although he hadn’t even touched you, you felt your skin crawl and the urgent need to throw yourself into an acid bath. “If you want to do business with us your boss will have to learn how to share… Especially with such a beautiful and gracious girl like you.”

The desire to kick him in the balls was intense and you wondered what kind of woman would really fall for these words.

Jay was on the verge of losing his mind.

He was trying.

He was really trying but it was so fucking hard to stay still and not react when that son of a bitch was being a creep with his wife. Ryder was talking to him about something he didn’t even care about, but he couldn’t pay attention and process a single word, too focused on you.

He couldn’t help but glance at you every now and then, running a hand on his jaw in frustration and starting to fidget on the spot as he saw the man getting closer and closer to you and invading your personal space, like touching your hair or caress your shoulder.

It wasn’t jealousy, he could never be jealous of a filthy man like him but he deeply hated not being able to do anything to keep you safe without ruining the whole mission. He hated seeing you so tense and uncomfortable although from the way your hands were balled into fists in your lap, he knew you too were itching to punch him.

He hated having to pretend you were simply his work partner and not his wife.

But he swore he saw red when that man’s clammy hand rested on your face and your eyes widened at the contact as your entire body froze in place.

Fuck the mission and these motherfuckers too.

Jay lost control.

That slimy hand on you had driven him crazy and before he knew it, he had stood up and grabbed the man’s hand with his, punching him in the face with all the strength in his body. He didn’t catch the gasp that escaped you and he didn’t even care he had just ruined any chance of doing ‘business’ with Ryder along with the possibility of framing him. While his fist hit that bastard again and again, all he could do was think of those hands on you.

“That’s my fucking wife you motherfucker!” Jay screamed in his face, holding him by the collar of his shirt as the man spat out blood, struggling to keep up with the fury of the undercover detective. “Let me catch you again putting a hand on her or even just looking her way, I’ll enjoy breaking your fingers one by one before throwing you in jail.”

Everything was now chaos.

The team, who in the meantime had witnessed everything through your hidden cameras, burst in when they realized the situation had now worsened to the point of no return. You tried to pull Jay away from the man, but it was totally useless, not when he was so furious that your strength was no match for his.

Ryder was fuming when he realized you were cops and you had tried to frame him, swearing he’d make you pay dearly while Kevin handcuffed him along with the rest of his goons.

“Baby,” you called back but Jay didn’t look at you right away. You stood outside the club under Voight’s orders, a hand on his bicep and caressing him as you tried to get his attention. You were alone in a little corner, waiting for your boss for his inevitable fury.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice low but finally focusing his gaze on you.

You let out a laugh trying to diffuse the tension, you hated seeing him so furious. “You are ask me if I’m okay? I’m not the one who just punched a guy.”

He sighed, tearing his eyes away from you as he ran his hands over his face with frustration. Your heart clenched at the sight of his red and bruised knuckles. “I wish I had killed him to be honest.”

“Jay I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” you replied, taking his hands in yours and leaving a kiss on the back of them, smiling when you saw his hard features start to soften at the gesture. “I could’ve handled him, I wouldn’t have let him go any further.”

“I know you could baby, you’re amazing,” he softy spoke, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He took a step towards you, closing the distance enough you had to slightly lift your head up to look into his eyes. “But there’s no way on earth that I would have sat there and watched while that son of a bitch put his hands on you.”

He cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs caressing your heated cheeks. “No one gets to put a hand on you, much less against your will. You’re my wife, I’m the only bastard who can touch you and I will gladly kill anyone who dares to do it instead of me, am I clear?”

You let out a breath, almost on the verge of passing out right there and now in his arms. “God baby I want to suck your dick so bad right now. I love when you get so protective of me, it’s so hot.”

Jay burst out laughing, his stomach clenching in anticipation knowing you would stand by your words. He pulled you into a hug and you rested your head on his chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “I’ll always keep you safe, I won’t let anyone touch a single hair of your head, I hope you know it. God knows I would set the city on fire to protect you.”

“I know baby, I love you so damn much it’s insane,” you deeply inhaled the smell of his cologne, leaving a kiss on his shirt coated chest. “But I hope it’s worth it because Voight is coming and I think he’s ready to take us both out,” you continued when you broke away from the hug and saw your boss coming up behind Jay, a furious look on his face.

“Oh yeah, it’ll always be worth it, especially for the amazing blowjob you’ll give me later.”

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i-am-dulaman · 2 years

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Okay I'm riled up about this rn so time for a history of economics lesson (rant) from me, a stranger on the internet

I'm a communist, I hate capitlism, so lemme just put that out there. But capitlism had its moments. Even marx had some praise for parts of capitlism.

And by far the most successful form of capitlism was Keynesian economics, as evident by the enormous increase in living standards in those countries which adopted it between the 1930s and 1970s.

What's Keynesian economics? The idea that capitlism can't survive on its own, and must be supported by government spending at the poorest ends of society and taxes at the richest ends of society (essentially the opposite of trickle down economics) as well as strong regulations on certain industries like banking.

It basically started in 1936 with President Roosevelt who was a personal friend of John Keynes (who the theory is named after).

Roosevelt implemented Keynesian economics to great effect; he raised the top tax rate to 94% (he actually wanted a 100% tax rate on the highest incomes, essentially creating a maximum wage, but the senate negotiated down to 94%) and similarly high corporate tax rates, he created the first ever minimum wage, created the first ever unemployment benefit, created social security in America, pension funds, and increased public spending on things like public utilities and infrastructure, national parks, etc. Which created about 15 million public sector jobs.

This ended the great depression and eventually lead to America winning world War 2, after which many countries followed suit in implementing similar policies, including UK, Australia, and NZ (apologies for the anglosphere-centric list here but they're the countries I'm personally most familiar with so bare with me)

Over the next 40 years these countries had unprecedented growth in living standards and incomes, and either decreasing or stable wealth inequality, and housing prices increasing in line with inflation. Virtually every household bought a car and a TV, rates of higher education increased dramatically, america put a man on the moon, and so on.

Then it all abruptly ended in the 80s and the answer is plain and obvious. 1979 thatcher became UK prime minister. 1981 reagan became US president. 1983 the wage accords were signed in aus. 1984 was the start of rogernomics in NZ (Someone link that Twitter thread of the guy who posts graphs of economic trends and points out where reagan became president)

(Also worth noting those last two in NZ and Aus were both implemented by 'left' leaning governments, but they are both heavily associated with right wing policies.)

This marked the beginning of trickle down economics: tax cuts, privatization of publicly owned assets, reduction in public spending, and deregulation of the finance sector. The top tax rates are down to the low 30s in most of these countries, down from the 80s/90s it was prior. Now THATS a tax cut.

And what happened next?

Wages stagnated. Housing prices skyrocketed. Bankers got away with gambling on the economy. Public infrastruce and utilies degraded. And wealth inequality now exceeds France in 1791.

I don't know how anyone can deny the evidence if they see it, but there's so much propaganda and false information that a lot of people just don't see the evidence.

Literally all the evidence supports going back to Keynesian economics but now that the rich have accumulated so much wealth it's virtually impossible to democratically dethrone them when they have most of the politicians on both the right and the left in their pocket.

Unfortunately it was the great depression and ww2 that gave politicians the political power to implement these policies the first time around. Some thought the 2008 crash would spur movement back towards Keynesianism (which it actually did in Iceland, congrats to them), I hoped covid would force governments to now, but nope.

All these recent crises' seem to have just pushed politics further and further right, with more austerity and tax cuts.

I don't really have a message or statement to end on other than shits fucked yo.

#also this is purely talking about the economics side of things #i know pre-80s the social side of politics was fucked despite the increasing living standards #with jim crow laws ans segregation and countless anti-queer laws etc.#and i know you canr seperate the economy entirely from social aspects of politics #but for the purposes of this post this is about the theoretical implications of different forms of capitlism #thats also why im not mentioning the recent descent towards fascism even tho it is closely tied to the economy #anyway #so yeah ive been reading a lot on economics lately #capitlism #economy #Keynesian economics #communism

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inumkii · 7 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ idiots to lovers - yuta okkotsu x reader

bullet point scenario

genre: fluff!! idiots to lovers (obviousllyyy)

wc: 1.3k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n: i figured it was better if i posted this instead of letting it sit in the dungeon (my collection of drafts that’ll never see the light of day)

okiee yuta timeee

i love annoying misconceptions and (falsely) heartbroken pining

the way i see it is that yuta strongly admires maki’s strength and resolve that, to you (who’s hopelessly pining after him), it can get mistaken as romantic ..

and it doesn't help that panda likes to be annoying about the two of them together ,,, it just all deflates your mood a little bit whenever you see them together

and you know you have no right to be sulking about this,, maki and yuta are your friends.. it shouldn't matter if they did like each other,, it's not something you could control

but you just desperately wish that yuta could look at you with the same level of admiration that he has when he talks to maki about sparring or whatever it may be

hell, he could barely look you in the eyes

it makes you a little sad seeing everyone’s friendship with yuta develope rapidly throughout his time at jujutsu tech,, but when it comes to conversing with you, things still feel a little different

its not like you two are merely acquaintances! you wouldn't hesitate to call okkutsu yuta a friend of yours,, but it's a simple relationship. not much complexity beyond your conversations during missions or gojo’s lessons

unfortunately for the both of you, you’re unaware of yuta’s affection for you

the reason why he doesn’t look at you with the admiration you wish for is because he can’t even look you in the eyes without getting too flustered ….

poor boy

he’s definitely gained a lot more confidence after joining jujutsu high, but it's still not enough to muster up enough courage to ask you to lunch or even have an in depth conversation without him getting too red in the face

he doesn’t know why you have this affect on him,, his previous relationship had been so easy- then again the carelessness of childhood was not a luxury he has anymore. though it was simpler, he knew he didn't have the mental capacity at such a young age to be overthinking shit like he does now

to add on, your friendship with toge has him struck with the familiar worries that you experience with maki

catching a glimpse of the spectators during his spar from the field, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed when he sees you seated a little too close to inumaki up on the bleachers.

“how long have yn and toge been friends?” he questions maki in the midst of their spar as he blocks her oncoming attack

“oh those two? just as long as we all joined jujustu high” maki switches to the defensive as yuta charges forward. yuta moves to strike her but maki smirks, “though i think they oughta start dating sooner later”

her words cause yuta to freeze for a split second and she shoves him to the ground, effectively placing herself on top of him. she holds her staff to his neck, signaling her win. one point for maki

she laughs in victory before lowering her voice back to her previous volume.

“i was kidding, by the way. there’s definitely no feelings between them” she helps the defeated (and visibly embarrassed) boy off his feet, “clearly there are for the two of you, however”

she struts back toward you, panda, and toge to retrieve her water, leaving yuta a flustered mess on the ground

and in that whole instance, you hadn’t heard any of that conversation

you had been leaned up against toge murmuring your complaints so panda, mediating the fight ahead, couldn't hear you

“they look good together” you say in self sabotaging pity

toge only shakes his head and disagrees

“okaka”

you’re sure he’s just doing this to make you feel better about yourself

“shes so pretty,, how couldnt he like her” you wail pathetically. toge is so fed up with this but its not he can just tell the other side how you felt (he would never rat you out like that though),, but hes certain yuta likes you back and that you're over analyzing him too much

he places a hand on your shoulder and waits for you to look up at him

the expression on his face tells you clearly, ‘you need to stop’

you sigh. toges right, he always is- but it still doesn’t do anything to quell your fears

and low and behold! your thoughts are interrupted by maki’s victory laugh. she was on top of him, rendering him unable to move

god you wished that was you………

you bury your head in your hands in utter frustration and groan. this is the worst feeling- you know you’re being stupid but jealousy is a disease and you’re dying over here!!

yuta swaps out with panda, who was waiting eagerly to fight the victor

he joins you guys up on the bleachers, seating himself beside toge. he quickly notices your distressed figure

“is,, everything alrigjt?” he asks tentatively

to his dismay, toge answers for you with a hum. this causes yuta to be a little peeved when it's him answering in your place- he tries to ignore it

you and inumaki seem way closer than you would ever be with him,,

but to yuta’s delight and your demise, toge stands up from between you (he doesn’t think he can stand to be sandwiched between the pining idiots anymore)

your blonde friend lets out a noise, motions to the line of water bottles at the bottom of the bleachers, and promptly leaves

yuta takes this opportunity to scoot himself closer to you, who’s still slumped over + wallowing away

“what were you two talking about?” he asks, trying to gauge why you’re sulking

you have to choose your words carefully. you couldn't just tell him you’re upset over something trivial like his spar with maki

“i’ve just been frustrated” you mumble vaguely

“frustrated?” he inches closer to you, trying to mimic toge’s proximity from before. he questions you with the utmost sincerity

“yeah. sorry i dont really know how to elaborate” you lift your head, deciding to stop staring holes into your shoes. you’re trying so hard to make this conversation not awkward- but your short answers don’t help your case at all.

“its alright, you dont have to talk about it if you dont want to”

if there's one thing you love about okkotsu yuta, it was how sweet he is

for the first time in the last hour or however long you had all been out on the field, you let out a genuine smile

“thank you yuta, i appreciate you”

his ears turn pink within a split second but nevertheless, he reciprocates your smile

the problem with conversing with you is that most of your conversations were too short

he could get so lost in your smile at times he finds himself silent, forgetting to carry on whatever you were talking to him about

this time he manages to snap himself out of it

“did you wanna hang out after practice? i mean- if you’d rather be alone right now that's fine to!” he knows he left the option to decline open but he hopes you didn't take him up on the latter,,

“that sounds nice.” you’re biting back a stupidly large grin

neither of you notice that maki and pandas fight had already concluded or that inumaki had been gone a suspiciously large amount of time to just grab a drink of water

makis smiling at the two of you up in your own world while toge almost sighs in exhaustion,

“sujiko”

(finally)

being around the two of you was quite a taxing event for them both

panda, on the other hand, is finally catching on- eyes shifting back and forth between you and yuta and his friends at the bottom of the bleachers in disbelief

it was an unspoken understanding between toge and maki that they should avoid panda becoming aware of the sprouting couple to avoid some- awkward comments, though he meant well

well, there’s no hiding it anymore with the two of you hopelessly blushing at each other + toge and maki’s shared smirks

before panda could say anything to disrupt the moment, his two friends were already dragging him off the field to avoid him opening his big mouth

“they wont notice we’ve left” maki says with a chuckle

“salmon”

#yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu fluff #yuta okkotsu x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #yuta x reader #yuta okkotsu scenarios

771 notes · View notes

jame7t · 7 months

Note

Why so _______

- The ______

Fill in the blanks!

“Why songbirds?” She asked, fiddling with the faux-feathers. “Wouldn’t a corvid be a better fit for a… spy?”

Melvik rolled his eyes again, as if spywork and the elaborate creation of false-life was a simple thing that his temporary protégée was failing to grasp. “Sure, yeah, ravens are nosy little fucks- but when you see one, you watch it. They’re smart. You look at birds like that. You can feel them watching you. And watch one too closely…”

“…you’ll notice it’s fake,” she finished. “Okay, but why songbirds? They make so much noise.”

“It gets drowned out in the pack. Flock. Whatever. And that’s the point, too. Nobody expects a spy to make noise.” He leaned back from the desk, a single false bird complete- one more to the pile. He plucked the soon-to-chirp thing from the wooden bench, and placed it on the metal sheet her siblings sat motionless on. “Five-four. I take the lead again.”

Gloria furrowed her brows at him- it’s not her fault she’s the only halfwit in the spire who knows about faux-life the month before deployment. “Where IS your little helper, anyway? How come I’m stuck here helping you?”

Melvik leaned forward awkwardly to start on another songbird. “He decided he’s an aspirant.” He spit the word.

“Little Crug? He’s an aspirant?”

Melvik raised his eyes to meet Gloria, and gave a single small nod.

“Good lord- The other children call him Crug, how is he gonna be an aspirant?”

“He’s not. He’ll wash out.”

“Right.” Gloria looked down at the spy in her hands, realizing she’d inserted a feather backwards. “Fuck.”

Continuing as if they hadn’t reached the natural stopping point, Melvik sighed- “It’s like he’s ignored everything he’s good at in favor of something that’s get him killed even if he doesn’t flunk out. Which, mind you, he will!”

Fumbling with a misplaced leg, his rant continues.

“Even if he does, somehow, become a pilot, which one would he even drive? The Mercello? The damn Mercello? We need things other than Titans to protect the Keep!”

Gloria nods, half listening. She opens her mouth to interject- not yet sure if she agrees- but Melvik isn’t done.

“He’s going to wash out of training, and when he comes back with half his motor functions intact, he’s gonna be sorry when I don’t let him back in. I can’t!” He meets Gloria’s eyes. “It’d be a security risk at that point. You get it, don’t you?”

She gives him an uncertain half-smile; the act of becoming an aspirant is seen as noble- a sacrifice, even. But those who ‘wash out’ are not often kept in high regards. Gloria’s cousin was one such unfortunate aspirant.

Melvik sees the uncertainty and relents- his eyes close, and he opens them to view the rotten thing in his hand. He managed to insert both legs backwards in his anger- and maybe, he dreaded, his age.

“I just needed one. One guarantee this craft wouldn’t be lost when… when I lose it.”

Gloria grimaced- she didn’t think her workmanship was that bad. “I’m sure there’s others who’ll keep it up. You know? You’re not the only weaver.”

“Nobody knows how to weave like I do.”

“And why’s that? What’s your special secret?”

“Nobody knows how- they-“

“Come on, then! Spill it! Nobody knows how to what?!”

“Fill in the blanks!”

Gloria rolled her eyes. “That’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he groans, continuing far past the natural stopping point. “Real songbirds don’t just ‘start and stop’- real foxes don’t just sit and watch. You have to make them real. You have to make them feel real.”

“So what you’re saying is, the director pays you extra because you play with puppets.” She meant it as an insult- she certainly thought so.

Melvik grins.

He looks to the small, soon to chirp thing in his hands- legs corrected, little beady eyes ready to see. “Yeah…”

He envisions the Titans- the pilots sitting within their puppet-rigs, marching along the ocean front; watching for the minions of the Corpse Moon to meet them along the coastal crags.

“Puppets.”

Maybe he does understand.

#I dodge your challenge deftfully!

484 notes · View notes

ashonheavenscloud · 23 days

Text

crazier things || h. hyunjin

: a drunken confession from your friend, hwang hyunjin, leaves you questioning everything a week before your transfer home.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader, college au, friends to ??, INTENSEEE ANGST, mutual pining, two idiots and unfortunate circumstances </3

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 14.6K

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mildly suggestive content and a toxic relationship (hyunjin x oc), this whole fic is kinda heavy and angsty😭

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: this was written WAYYY back in 2021 and posted on my other account, but i’m moving it here to keep all my fics in the same place🤣 this is the longest oneshot i’ve written and i’m quite proud of it. enjoy!

now playing - crazier things - chelsea cutler

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Hyunjin was drunk, you knew.

That was the only explanation for why he would call you at such an ungodly hour as 2 am, slurred words barely audible in between the loud music and cheering crowd that joined his voice through your speaker.

It had been awhile since he’d called you at a party- but definitely not long enough, you thought a little frustratedly. But you were mostly worried as you drove to the address you’d managed to coax out from the drunk boy’s babbling.

He was falling back into bad habits as the peak of winter approached and snow had yet to fully take its leave from the suburbs of New York- and it didn’t help that finals were approaching, and he was clearly stressed.

And that girlfriend of his putting way too much pressure on him.

Yet another worry as you pulled up to the house, music booming from the place as you hurried to where Hyunjin was leaning in the yard, no girlfriend in sight.

He hadn’t brought her, and he hadn’t called her- again.

“Hyunjin!”

It took a couple shouts of his name over the crowd for him to look up at you, and you felt a tiny bit of relief at seeing him somewhat alright.

“Y/n-” his attempt at walking over was short lived, as he stumbled with a giggle and you rushed to catch him.

The weight of his body made you sigh, grunting out, “Stand up, we’re going home.”

“Home? What home, not home.”

He barely made sense, but you understood. “Not your girlfriend’s, I promise.”

He slowly nodded, dazedly blinking as your words processed. “Okay.” He mumbled, voice small.

“Just… just take a rest here, okay?” You murmured back, as you dragged the boy from the crowd and found an unoccupied bench by the side of the road to sit him on. Quickly, you pulled a plastic water bottle from your bag and handed it cap off to him. “Drink.”

He did as he was told, and with your gentle help he downed a good quarter of it. Sighing once more, you plopped onto the bench beside him, suddenly very weary.

Hyunjin was drunk- very drunk. He had to be, when he slid closer to you on the bench, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy from the aftermath of the college party and the alcohol. That was the only explanation; for why else would three forbidden words suddenly tumble from his dazed, plush lips?

“I love you.”

Your eyes jolted to his face; his eyes were flickering closed, a small intoxicated smile on his face, his fingers finding the edge of your sweater sleeve and tugging at the material. He clung to you, smile slowly widening as he chuckled; and all you could do was stare at him, heart racing and sinking all at once.

You really might have been able to brush it off as some false drunken claim if he had stopped there, or if you’d had the courage to speak and lead the conversation away. Lead it somewhere safe, somewhere that didn’t blur the already complicated relationship you both found yourselves in- the very messy situation you should have gotten out of right at that moment.

But he didn’t stop there.

And it sounded so genuine when his head lolled onto your shoulder and he murmured, “Ha. I’m so in love with you, and you don’t even know it.”

He was drunk, you had to repeat to yourself multiple times as you drove your black Civic through the busy neighborhood streets, occasionally glancing at his sleeping figure in the passenger side. He was completely still, save for the small breaths that made his lips pout ever so slightly. With a start, you realized he was still gripping your sleeve.

And you were suddenly scared.

Because I love you too, Hwang Hyunjin. And I think maybe you meant it.

…

When it came to alcohol of any kind, Hwang Hyunjin was a lightweight. It barely took him a couple swallows to be completely wasted- and the day after was just as bad.

He groaned when he opened his eyes; despite the blinds being closed, the tiny streams of light around the edges sparked a massive headache. He closed his eyes immediately, his small glance around the room enough to assure him that he was safe- and, once again, had been stashed in your bedroom.

He didn’t remember getting here at all. God, how many shots had he taken? He’d sworn to keep it to a strict limit. What kind of alcohol had it even been?

Groggy but guilty enough to get up, Hyunjin forced his eyes open again and stumbled out of the bed. He was sweaty and nauseous, but hey, you’d seen him worse. Upon leaving the bedroom and stepping into the living area of your studio apartment, he was met with the sight of you passed out on the couch.

You’d probably been exhausted after helping him out last night.

Another wave of guilt ran over him. He didn’t usually drink, but when he did you always seemed to be the one cleaning up his mess. Hyunjin vaguely remembered calling you part way through the night- although he couldn’t recall any of the conversation. Once again, though, you’d had his back.

He approached as quietly as his heavy feet could manage, and crouched beside you. A light blanket was half draped off your figure, and your face was smashed into a pillow. He watched your expression, noticing the crease of worry in your brow and gently massaging it away with a sigh.

He was stressing you again. He hadn’t meant to; and at this point, his guilt was overwhelming.

He decided to let you sleep, feeling he at least owed you that. He fixed the blanket, tucking in around your shoulders before stumbling away to the kitchen. First he found a bottle of Advil and downed the pill, before checking in your fridge for any food. Eggs and toast was manageable, right? He wasn’t the most experienced cook but he could damn well try.

Almost subconsciously, he peeked behind his shoulder to look at you once more. Your forehead was wrinkled with worry again. Even though he felt bad, he couldn’t help but think about how cute it was. But to be fair, you were always cute.

So damn pretty.

You suddenly shifted and Hyunjin whipped his head back to his cooking, heart pounding and ears flaming. Focus on the food, Hyunjin, he scolded himself.

But that image of you curled up behind him couldn’t leave his head as he cooked, no matter how hard he tried. He shouldn’t be thinking of you so much, especially not now- with you here, and with the symptoms of his hangover a bitter reminder of the trouble he’d caused you. Especially when each new thought definitely crossed the friend line.

After meeting you at the university library, your phone numbers had been exchanged- and oddly enough, you’d been kind to him. Kind to the boy close to failing half of his classes. Kind to the boy with a reputation of trouble. Kind, even after the first party you’d stumbled upon him- and he’d been drunk then, too. And somehow you’d started being the one person he could really talk to, and the one person that his intoxicated brain thought to call.

His reminiscing was interrupted by movement, and Hyunjin glanced back again to see you groggily sitting up, blinking open bleary eyes, the cutest yawn scrunching up your features. He caught himself smiling ridiculously, just in time to hide it before your eyes found his own.

There were the worry lines again.

“Are you okay?” You asked him quietly, standing and approaching him. Against his will, his heart thumped a little faster.

“Yeah. I guess.” Hyunjin responded, watching you survey him, eyes checking him for any sign of damage.

It seemed you didn’t find any, because after a minute you sighed. “Good.”

You reached to yank him closer by the collar of his button up, nearly making Hyunjin lose his balance as another wave of dizziness greeted his senses. Either you didn’t notice or you didn’t care; probably the latter, because you were shouting, and you looked mad.

“What the hell? You scared me half to death, you told me you were going to stop doing this!”

“I… I know.” Hyunjin weakly replied, but he didn’t have time to add anymore when you came at him again.

“You said you wouldn’t go the next time, at least not alone- and the next time, and the next time, and on and on. I’ve been covering for you, rescuing you from parties and bad dates for the past year. But I’m gone next term, and I’m not going to be here to save your sorry ass anymore.”

As if he needed the reminder of your transfer. As if he hadn’t been thinking about it since the day you’d told him last month.

“I’m sorry, really.” Hyunjin murmured, meeting your eyes to try and convey the honesty in his words. “It’s unfair to you. I don’t know why I call you every time, but… it’s not fair.”

There was silence, and oddly enough you seemed a bit caught off guard. What? Because he called you, even now? But then Hyunjin realized at last your close proximity, your nose almost touching his, your warm breath on his face. His eyes widened.

You jumped back, and Hyunjin ducked away at the same time, heart doing back flips as he tried to regain his composure, glancing at you. You, the calm and sensible one, the out of reach one… flustered.

Was it possible for a heart to swell with foolish hope, at the same time it shriveled with an undeniable sense of guilt?

But before Hyunjin could figure it out, you were running to the stove, shouting at the smoke that billowed from the eggs that Hyunjin had forgotten about. The moment was dismissed in the scramble to clear the smoke and discard of the burnt eggs, relieved that at least the toast turned out okay.

And once the toast was buttered and on plates, you turned back to face him. You opened your mouth, hesitating for a moment before quietly saying, “What are you going to tell her this time?”

You didn’t need to say who. Hyunjin bit into his toast, with no desire to answer the question. You sighed, but thankfully didn’t push it.

He didn’t need to hear your thoughts to know what you were thinking while you silently drizzled honey on your bread. Why are you with her if you always need to lie to her?

Because I don’t deserve any better. And I certainly don’t deserve you.

He avoided your eyes as you chewed on your toast, gathering enough courage to timidly ask, “I really am sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I do.” Hyunjin argued, watching you sigh and drop the toast onto your plate. “I broke my promise-”

“And you’ve apologized. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“But that’s not enough.” He whispered, watching you turn your gaze to the floor, expression unreadable. It was so often that he couldn’t figure out what you were thinking, and he’d pay every penny for your thoughts. You gnawed on your lip, and Hyunjin wondered if you might not answer. At last, you lifted your head to meet his gaze again.

“Okay, how about we just say you owe me?”

Hyunjin breathed a sigh of relief, glad you had relented. “That’s more than fair.”

“Okay.” You rubbed your temples- from stress or tiredness, Hyunjin couldn’t tell. “Good.”

Another ‘sorry’ almost slipped from his lips without thinking, but Hyunjin managed to bite his tongue. He knew that another apology would only frustrate you. But it still echoed in his head, the guilt that swam there even as he watched you tie back your messy hair, heart fluttering endlessly.

He was a mess.

“I… guess I should go.”

“I can drive you.”

“No, I can walk. I have work today.”

You whirled to stare at him. “Today?”

“In an hour, actually.” Hyunjin replied, wincing at the very idea of the headache he was bound to suffer through today. The intense smell of flowers in the shop probably wouldn’t help, either.

You were silent for a moment; Hyunjin didn’t want to break the quiet himself, so he simply watched you harshly bite your lip again before you stepped closer. Once again, his heart stumbled as you neared.

Gingerly, you reached towards him, and Hyunjin subconsciously closed his eyes as your fingertips grazed his forehead, then massaged the area between his brows.

So you weren’t the only one stressed. He hadn’t even noticed; but he did find himself slowly relaxing under your touch.

When he opened his eyes, you still looked worried- but a small smile flickered on your lips.

“So you’re going to show up to work in that?”

Oh. “How bad is it?” He asked, sheepishly.

“You stink.” And then you had your arms around him, carefully resting your head against his shoulder as you pulled him close. The rare moments you did this, Hyunjin never knew how to react to your affection- but it did send his mind spiraling, his heart dancing and leaping in his chest at your closeness.

At last he let his cheek fall on your head, letting a minute pass before whispering. “Thank you… for everything.”

Was it his imagination, or did you hug him slightly tighter? “You’re my friend, and this is what friends do.”

Yeah… it’s what friends do.

Bullshit. You’ve gone above and beyond the requirements of friendship.

You pulled away from him, and turned quickly- he noticed the small tinge of redness over your ears but was too tired to question it. His headache, though dulled, was slowly returning.

“Go shower.” You told him, heading towards your bedroom. “We’ll figure something out for your work clothes.”

He nodded, murmuring another small thank you before ducking into your bathroom, towel in hand. He paused in front of the mirror- gosh, he really did look like a mess.

Just like how he felt.

When he stepped under the cold water, splashing his senses awake, his thoughts ran a different way. He recalled leaning against your head; your hair had smelled like citrus; he’d sworn you’d held your breath.

7 days. That was all he had left before you were gone.

…

The distance between New York City and Los Angeles was exactly 2789 miles.

You knew this because the number had been dancing through your head since the moment you’d realized you would have to move back home to California to study.

Stupid finances. Your tiny apartment was fairly cheap for its Lower Manhattan location, but it still sucked away at your funds- funds you didn’t have. At the beginning of the term, it became apparent that unless you found money fast, you wouldn’t be able to stay.

Praying for a miracle had turned out to be hopeless. Your parents, having never approved of your moving away, hadn’t offered any help. Your bitter old manager refused to give you a raise, and no other opportunities presented themselves. In the desperate last stretch, you’d taken on different gigs- tutoring, walking dogs, cleaning houses, anything you could think of- but it wasn’t nearly enough. With a month left of the winter term, your only option became evident.

You signed the forms, you received the email of congratulations! You would be attending the University of California in the New Year!

Hip fucking hooray.

Oddly enough, Hyunjin had been the first to find out. The same day you’d received the email, you’d run into the boy at the university library. Where you’d usually be able to mask a smile, fake some kind of emotion to keep him from suspecting anything was wrong, you hadn’t had the energy.

Was that considered irony? The first person to know- to comfort you, to offer you support- would be your hardest goodbye.

When was it that you’d fallen for him? You couldn’t pinpoint between the sharing of homework answers- you were both English majors- and those moments at a cafe or that beautiful library when he seemed to be the only spot of colour left in your graying life. He had the unique ability to make you forget about all your worries and troubles even just for a few minutes with a single smile- a smile so kind and genuine and warm that it felt like an embrace on its own. Meeting him had been like… finding the first crocus in spring, and knowing that the frost was fading at last. It had been hopeful; somehow knowing this person standing in front of you would touch your very soul.

And he had- in so many ways. Ways he probably didn’t realize in the moments he’d surprise you with coffee on a cold morning, or let you borrow his gloves when you forgot them. He’d touched you so deeply that you’d found yourself slipping into daydreams far too often with him involved- and with no girlfriend in sight.

The girlfriend was actually a recent development; Ava had come seemingly out of nowhere, apparently another English student that Hyunjin had taken out a couple times. Ava herself wasn’t too bad- but you still found her a tad single minded- and too invested in Hyunjin’s academics. The boy didn’t always have the best grades, and she had no reservations when it came to reminding him. Maybe she meant well… but sometimes you really did want to slap her.

For more reasons than just that.

She’d come along just shortly before you’d found him at one of his parties, dead drunk with vomit still damp on his shirt. He’d touched your soul in a different way then, and you’d never forget what he’d said to you as you’d tried to drag him out of your car, and his weary eyes found yours.

“Do you know how to float?”

“What?”

“Float. Like, not drown.” He mumbled something that you couldn’t hear before saying louder. “I drown. I drown a lot of times, even though I got everything I need to stay up. I was given those… like, those floatie thingies, but I just poke holes into them.” He clumsily pressed an index finger to his side, tapping several times. “Poke. Poke. Poke. And then I drown.”

You tried to figure out something to say, but came up empty at a loss for words. Hyunjin had only chuckled bitterly. “Grades aren’t everything, right? What a bunch of bull-”

You’d held his hair away from his face as he vomited onto the grass. As he wretched, your mind spun; this beautiful, sweet, outwardly confident boy… was just as much a mess as you.

Perhaps everyone was a mess, and some had just gotten very good at hiding it.

Now, sitting on your couch as the sun sank lower in the sky and turned the horizon into violent shades of orange and red, your mind spiraled back to one thing.

I love you.

Ha. I’m so in love with you, and you don’t even know it.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get messier…

You shifted in your spot, glancing at the half eaten carton of food on the coffee table as you recounted your morning with Hyunjin. Why had you hugged him? You were supposed to be mad at him- but you just couldn’t be for long. You knew how hard he was trying, and that he beat himself up enough for the both of you. And anyways…

You didn’t want to waste your time being angry at him.

The hug itself had felt like magnetism- one minute you were watching him with a small smile of endearment, and the next your arms were around his waist, pulling him close. He'd been so comfortingly warm; you’d been able to hear his heartbeat in your ear, pounding a rhythm much too fast to stop you from wondering…

I love you.

You stood abruptly from the couch, snatching the carton of food and stashing it back in the fridge. You needed to stop thinking about this; you needed to clear your head.

It was bitingly cold outside, tiny snowflakes drifting through the chill air that buzzed with noise. You’d always liked how busy it was here, even at night. You didn’t understand it, but something about how awake the world was at ungodly hours made you feel more alive, too.

You hurried down the sidewalk, keeping your hands in your coat pocket to stay warm, burrowing your chin into the patterned scarf around your neck. You let your feet carry you any which way, no real destination in mind. Music poured from the doors of small cafes and busy nightclubs still ablaze with life. You contemplated stopping at one of your favourite coffee shops, even if just to sit and drown in the warmth, but passed by with a shake of your head. You were too restless.

You forced your mind to wander to other worries as you walked- like the upcoming winter exams. Classes ended tomorrow, and the following four days were filled with studying and the actual exams. Then the morning after, you’d be gone.

It felt surreal. The month had flown by underneath a looming shadow, and you swore you’d missed several weeks. Granted, you’d been busy- often studying with Hyunjin, or working your ass off at your job. But only the sleepless nights had felt long- the rest had passed in the blink of an eye.

You couldn’t deny how attached you’d grown to the city in your time here. As much as you’d loved your home city, New York had a certain feel to it that fed into your very soul. You’d never been able to pinpoint why; you only knew that if it had been possible, you might have never wanted to leave.

For more reasons than one.

But now it seemed unlikely that you would find the funds to come back. Even the price for a visit… you didn’t want to imagine a price.

His smile haunted you. The first real friend you’d made. The one you’d hopelessly fallen for, and now found yourself in an impossible position.

There you go again, you realized with a jolt. Thinking of him.

You stuffed your hands in your pockets, forcing your mind elsewhere. The apartment complexes in front of you, the bubbling laughter from a nearby bar, the rumbling of car engines as the lights flickered from red to green. The tiny shops on the corners, and the takeout places to the left. Ah, I liked that sushi place. Hyunjin loved it too.

And it was obvious when you rounded the next street corner, eyes turning upwards as snow fell heavier around you, that walking hadn’t helped anything.

Except to make you feel even lonelier.

…

Classes ended on a solemn note for Hyunjin. He didn’t miss a single one of his teacher’s judgemental glances in his direction at the last chime of the bells. He certainly didn’t need them to tell him that most of his grades were currently sitting at dangerous spots- and these upcoming exams would be extremely important.

He needed to pass.

Whispers followed him in the halls. He didn’t miss their glances, either, as a group of students passed.

“He’s not even trying- doesn’t he know others would kill to be in his place?”

“Seriously, he received enough bursaries for me and my sister to attend a year of college.”

“He’s just a pretty face, no brains.”

He ducked out of the hall, desensitized to the phrases he was used to hearing. They’d batted inside the back of his head since he was in high school, and it had been his parents saying the same things.

Just a pretty face.

His parents had been the ones to ensure his place at the university, complete with bursaries to keep his finances well taken care of. They had connections, see, and had high expectations for Hyunjin’s future. Too bad they had such a disappointment for a child, he thought bitterly.

Still, it was easy enough to let the words pass from one ear and out the next. He’d heard them enough times that he was almost numb to them. Almost.

Hyunjin sighed as he readjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and hurried down the steps away from campus. He had work again, and he couldn’t dawdle. He already owed his coworkers enough; Seungmin, a fellow student, had been kind enough to lend him an extra shirt for his last shift, and he didn’t want to cause any more trouble.

Luckily, the shop wasn’t too far. He arrived a few minutes early, greeting Felix- a younger boy with blonde curls and heaps of freckles on his cheeks- with a small smile as he ducked inside the warm shop, a pleasant contrast to the bitter cold outside.

“You beat me.” Hyunjin panted, pulling off his coat.

“The Professor let us out a few minutes early.” Felix explained, busy arranging a basket of flowers with careful precision. “Where are the scissors?”

Hyunjin crouched behind the counter, digging through the bottom door to find a pair of scissors and hand them to the boy.

“Thank you.”

“Hey!” This was Jeongin, a younger kid whose parents owned the shop, appearing from one of the back rooms with a cardboard box filled with labelling cards. “You’re out!”

“Except for exams, yeah.” Hyunjin agreed, fondly ruffling the boy’s hair. He pulled away, shaking away his hand.

“Hey, you were at that party yesterday, weren’t you?”

Hyunjin hadn’t expected that. “Yeah- yeah, and you were?”

“We both were.” Felix sliced a red ribbon and tied it carefully around the handle of the basket. He stepped back, smiling as he admired his handiwork before adding. “We thought of stopping to talk, but…”

“You looked wasted, dude.” Jeongin finished, setting the box on the counter before turning eyes to Hyunjin.

The long haired boy shifted his feet under Jeongin’s gaze. “I… might have had a bit too much to drink.”

He turned to pluck his apron from the peg on the wall; Felix chuckled behind him.

“Good thing y/n was there. That’s who it was, right?”

Hyunjin avoided looking back, clumsily tying his apron. “Yeah. Why?”

“Nothing, just…” his voice trailed away.

Now Hyunjin glanced back, frowning at Felix’s hesitation. He looked a little… apprehensive? “What? What happened? Did I do something-”

“Oh, nothing bad.” Felix chuckled, his worry crumbling enough to ease Hyunjin’s shoulders back to relaxing as he turned away again. Until Felix added. “It’s just that you told her you loved her.”

Hyunjin froze with his fingers still pulling the strings tight. The words echoed in his head- taking a moment to process before the gravity of what Felix was saying took hold. He let the bow fall slack, turning slowly to face the two boys. “What?”

“She sat you down, gave you water and then you told her you loved her.” Jeongin laughed, clearly finding this very amusing.

But Hyunjin found this anything but funny. He’d said… to you…

Was that why you’d been acting weirdly? Wait, more importantly- did that mean you knew he’d meant it?

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Jeongin shrugged. “You were drunk, people say stupid things all the time when they’re wasted.”

Right. You had to think that.

Right?

“You must have been pretty drunk to forget, though.” Felix picked up his basket, nudging Hyunjin on his way past. “Hey, don’t worry about it too much. I’m sure she doesn’t care.”

Did you care?

That was the question that circled Hyunjin’s brain as he ducked away, finding recluse in the storage room to think. He’d told you- actually told you to your face- that he loved you. Sure, he’d been drunk, but he’d still said it.

Did you care that he’d said it?

He cursed his foggy memory, that hadn’t clung onto to that moment. He had no idea how you’d responded- he had no idea if you’d brushed it off or not. And he had no idea what to do now that he knew vaguely what had happened.

He recalled your flustered state yesterday morning; the tinge of red on your ears, the tenderness of your eyes when you’d looked at him…

And his wild thoughts desperately hoped that maybe, maybe that meant you loved him too.

Could it be possible? He’d wondered before, but never with much hope; only a hopeless romantic’s dream of gentle kisses and shared smiles and tight embraces that he figured would only ever exist in his imagination. And after your announcement of moving back to California, even those hopeful thoughts had disappeared. His time had run out- long distance relationships never worked out anyways, and that was even if you’d wanted one. And if so many other things didn’t stand in the way.

“Hyunjin?” Felix’s head popped through the door, his features twisted into a frown. “It’s your girlfriend. You left your phone on the counter- she wants to talk to you-”

Shit. “Tell her I’ll call her back.”

“Ah- okay.” Felix pulled out again, and the reality of his living world fell back on him like a heavy weight.

What to do now? Nothing.

He would go home. He’d call Ava, maybe find a distraction. And he’d try his very best to forget again.

5 days. He had a lot to worry about in the next little bit, that was for sure.

…

It was another two days before you saw Hyunjin. You’d promised to study with him before the exams, arranging a meeting at one of the nearby libraries in the afternoon to pore over notes and books and cram as much knowledge as possible into your brain. As usual, you arrived earlier than Hyunjin and found a free table to set up for your study session- including a few small muffins to feed your appetites.

But today was already starting out much different than you’d intended. Once seated, you had the time to wait and realize that you were oddly nervous to see him.

In fact, as the minutes ticked closer to 3 o’clock, you swore there were butterflies dancing inside of you.

Gosh, you needed to get a grip. He was the same Hwang Hyunjin as he’d been before that drunken confession- unavailable and unreachable. This changed nothing.

But when you spotted him walking towards you with his navy backpack slung over his shoulder and black jacket making him look way too cute, you knew it changed everything.

“I brought coffee.” He smiled as he slid into the chair beside you, plopping two drinks on the table- Americano for him, steaming cup of Espresso for you.

“Thanks.” You took a sip, relishing the taste and praying the hot liquid would drown those stupid butterflies as you flipped open your first notebook.

“Well, we can’t have a future famous journalist low on caffeine during exam season!” He exclaimed with a teasing grin- and you felt relieved that he seemed to be in at least somewhat decent spirits.

“If I get through university.”

“You will.” Hyunjin assured, sounding so confident you glanced at him in surprise. He just smiled at you. “I believe in you.”

What was it about those words from his mouth that made you feel ridiculously flustered? Those butterflies had evidently survived the coffee. You quickly spoke to hide your sudden shyness. “Well, don’t neglect your own caffeine then.”

“Ah.” His smile faltered, and you caught it easily. You didn’t need to ask to know he doubted his ability to pass. With a firm exhale, you pressed his coffee closer to him.

“We’re both going to smash these exams. Okay?”

Slowly, Hyunjin nodded and released a tense breath. “Okay.” He replied softly, lips curving upwards slightly. “I mean, with you as my study partner how could I not?”

You slowly grinned, tossing your hair dramatically. “Aren’t you lucky to have me?”

“Very.” He giggled, but the sincerity in his eyes still reached you- and you didn’t quite know what to do about that, so you cleared your throat.

“I suppose we should get started.”

You waited for Hyunjin to pull his books from his bag; his long dark hair fell before his eyes as he bent down, and you tried not to care too much about it, and the urge to run your fingers through it. At last he plopped his textbooks and scattered notes onto the table with a sigh. “Right.”

But looking over notes and exchanging questions proved to be more difficult than you’d expected. From the get go the atmosphere felt different; electric, and noticeably so. It was nearly impossible to concentrate for reasons beyond you- was it lack of sleep that made your eyes wander to watch Hyunjin flip a page, take a sip of his coffee, or mouth words to himself? Time was hazy while you couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by the small furrow of his brow, the bright focus in his eyes. You’d always thought he was absolutely stunning, but today it was harder to ignore.

You shook your head slightly, scolding yourself to get a grip. You turned back to your pages, eyes glaring at the notes you’d scribbled about Pride and Prejudice and War and Peace without really soaking any of it into your brain.

An hour passed slowly. You worked mostly in silence, occasionally exchanging thoughts and points and sipping your individual drinks. You helped him with a few of the analyses and quizzed him (quite distractedly). The muffins were devoured in no time, the chocolate taste lingering on the tip of your tongue as you worked away for another hour. You thought you might be going brain dead when Hyunjin suddenly laughed.

You looked up quickly, confused. “What?”

“Wait, did you do that?”

He was pointing to his notes and with a start, you realized there were small drawings in the margins- doodled eyes and flowers and flames and whatnot. Your expression broke into a smile as warmth flooded your chest with the memory.

“You fell asleep and wouldn’t wake up. Remember, when Professor Watson was giving that speech about-”

“Provision and prosperity.” Hyunjin groaned in remembrance, before looking back at the pencilled designs. “I never noticed these.”

His fingers traced the outlines of the sketches, a faint smile pulling at his lips. His eyes held an undeniable fondness that had your heart doing back flips as you attempted to return to work.

But damn, he was so distracting. You couldn’t help but look back at him, still intently focused on your drawings. You once again had the urge to brush the loose strands of his dark hair behind his ear, and maybe kiss the corner of his gentle smile-

Then his eyes glanced your way- shit-

He opened his mouth, but you blurted with cheeks flaming, “Are you cold? It’s freezing, isn’t it?”

Ha. Lies, you felt like you were burning alive.

Hyunjin softly smiled. “You’re so silly, why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

You shrugged. “I don’t live too far, I had a hoodie and it’s not that cold-”

Suddenly he was sitting back shaking off his jacket. Your heart stammered and your breath caught at the sudden closeness as he turned to face you, leaning forward slightly and sliding his jacket over your shoulders.

“There.” He murmured; his eyes met yours as he paused his movements.

Yes, there it was. Electric.

He pulled back quickly, grabbing his pencil and turning his gaze away. Thankfully so, because it was that moment that your fingers curled around his jacket sleeve and heat swam to your face- it smelled just like him. Dark musk, with a slight hint of something floral.

“Thank you.” You managed at last, bending your head to look back at the book and away from the boy before you could make eye contact again- and he might notice the intense blush painting your cheeks.

He hummed in acknowledgment, scratching something down with his pencil. Otherwise it was tensely silent, leaving you room to wonder why, why, why did you pick the library? It was like your senses were on high alert in the near complete stillness of the room, your every nerve absolutely focused on Hyunjin’s small movements, the smell of his jacket, the faint brush of his knee against yours under the table; again you were drawn to slowly look at him, and with a jolt you realized he was staring back.

His words echoed relentlessly in your mind. I’m so in love with you, and you don’t even know it.

You couldn’t pull away this time, like your gazes were magnets with an unstoppable attraction. You searched his eyes, hoping to dig through the emotions in them and find answers. Had he meant it at all? His lips were slightly parted, and it took every fibre of your self control to stay still in your seat.

What are we even doing here? You silently screamed. It feels like torture, but I can’t stop wanting you.

Hyunjin’s phone chose that instant to buzz on the table, lighting up with a caller ID you recognized before Hyunjin picked it up. Ironic, for her to be the one to interrupt… whatever the hell that had been.

“Ava?”

Her voice crackled from the speaker, but you couldn’t make out any words as Hyunjin hummed into the phone. “Yeah. Okay, sure. I’ll be there soon.”

With his gaze no longer on you, you slumped back in your seat, feeling rather foolish and small. Were you just reading into things? He had a girlfriend, after all.

A girlfriend he never talks about. A girlfriend he doesn’t seem to trust.

Did it matter?

Hyunjin turned back to you, and you had trouble meeting his eyes again- this time, for a reason unknown to you. “Sorry. Ava…”

He didn’t finish, and you couldn’t help it when you looked up and asked. “Do you love her, Hyunjin?”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he seemed taken aback. “What?”

You merely swallowed, kind of wishing you could brush away the question. Where had it even come from? Curiosity? Jealousy?

Hope?

Hope for what? You damn idiot, none of this matters!

“No.”

It echoed in your head and it burned in the way that he looked at you when he said that; like he needed you to know that, like he’d been begging for a reason to tell you. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. Still, you ignored all the warning lights in your brain and all logic of your situation- because yes, it didn’t matter- and you pressed on anyway.

“Then why…”

“I don’t love her. I never did, and she knows that.” He murmured, completely unreadable as he closed his textbooks. “We just both needed someone when we felt especially lonely. That was the agreement all along.”

Your throat felt suddenly dry, and no words found their way to your tongue. Speechless, you sat silent as Hyunjin watched you, completely unreadable.

And what now?

Shit, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

You needed to process, to clear your spinning head. But you still felt frozen in your seat.

Luckily Hyunjin spoke first. “You can keep my jacket. I guess Ava’s coming to pick me up. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

He stored his books away, and finally a bit of sense returned to you. “Ah, okay. Get home safe.”

He half smiled in your direction, then almost seemed to hesitate stepping away. That small hesitation nearly broke something in you, but you remained firmly in your seat.

“Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight.” You whispered, and let him walk away.

3 days. 3 days that would feel like an eternity and a second all at once.

…

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around himself, shivering from the cold as he scanned the parking lot for Ava’s vehicle. He quickly spotted the maroon coloured Sedan, and jogged towards it. As he approached, he could make out her figure through the glass. Her thick curls and wide eyes, which turned to meet his own when he knocked on the window.

“Hey.” She gestured and he slipped inside, buckling his seatbelt as she started the engine.

He nodded back, asking, “You said you needed me?”

“Yep.” She raised an eyebrow in his direction. “And you sounded less than happy about that.”

He had, hadn't he? He bit his lip, trying to figure out what to say- but he didn’t even know what the problem was.

Hyunjin’s relationship with Ava was almost as complicated as the one between him and you. He’d met her several times in class, and then outside of class for a casual coffee. She was bold, and although a little pushy, she was one of the few students who didn't seem to resent him. When she’d suggest a kind of ‘friends with benefits,’ he’d been surprised to say the least- and his first instinct had been to say no. After all, he was well aware of his feelings for you then, so why would he agree to sleep with Ava?

But one day, after a particularly dismal week, you found him at a party far more drunk than he usually was. It was the first time you’d helped him- and when he took a look at himself in the mirror the next morning, he knew. He couldn’t do this. You already had your own problems to deal with- you didn’t need the weight of him and his feelings on your shoulders, too.

Was that dumb? Maybe. But Hyunjin had agreed to Ava’s offer, and the rest was history. He’d been honest from the beginning about his intentions, confiding his affection for you to her to make it clear that he wasn’t looking for anything more than casual sex. And it didn’t happen often- only when both of you were particularly stressed- but soon enough word had spread. Ava and Hyunjin, a couple.

Like every other rumour, he let the words pass through him. Except when it came from you- then it hurt more than he’d wanted to admit. But if that’s what it kept to hold himself back, he could find a way to push aside the pain.

Still, he’d never felt as guilty about it as he felt today. For some reason, the idea made him feel… wrong. Maybe because of what he’d said to you at the party. Or maybe because of whatever tension had lingered in the library just minutes ago, and he’d almost thought he might…

Hyunjin didn’t realize he’d fallen silent, drifting into thought until Ava nudged him back to the present.

“Sorry-”

“It’s because of her, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin looked up, as Ava pulled into the lot connected to the first few dorm halls. She turned off the engine and turned to look at him, dark eyes void of emotion. “Y/n. That’s why you’re hesitating today.”

Hyunjin wet his lips and opened his mouth to speak- but he couldn’t find the words. His mind still felt muddled from your earlier question.

“Do you love her?”

Why had you asked him that? And why had he told you the truth?

“I’m… just not up to it today.” Hyunjin responded- since that was technically true. “And I have to study some more.”

Ava didn’t say anything for a minute, just stared at him. Hyunjin felt an odd frustration boil up inside of him, although he was unsure where it was coming from. “You can’t ask me to-”

“I’m not.” She replied, pulling the key from the ignition and shrugging. “It’s your choice. But you know it doesn’t matter, right?”

Hyunjin couldn’t look at her as he spoke, fingers clutching the door handle. The car was beginning to feel suffocating. “It’s just friends with benefits. No strings attached.”

“Hyunjin… it’s never been that simple.”

His eyes jolted to find hers, staring at him intently. He noticed the nervous tapping of her fingers on her thigh, and the tiny crack in her facade in the depth of her irises. It’s never been that simple.

She… “Ava-”

“We could be good together- actually together.” She exclaimed, crossing her arms and looking away. He thought he caught a flash of desperation in her eyes. “Everyone believes it already-”

“I never meant to lead you on-”

“You didn’t.” She shrugged again, but Hyunjin was starting to think her indifference was her type of armour. He knew about that all too well. “But think about it. She’s leaving, and then what? Long distance? How long do you think that would last? If she even wants you.”

Hyunjin was frozen as the words pounded inside his brain, a chorus that he was all too familiar with, the things he quoted to himself. Ava was right, as much as he hated to admit it.

“I-” his grip on the car handle tightened as he tried to stop the trembling of his body. “I can’t.”

Ava merely sighed and waved him out of the vehicle. He clambered out, shutting the door behind him quickly. But she rolled down the window anyway and told him, “Think about it.”

He didn’t know what to say- his heart just ached, and he needed space. “See you.” He murmured, turning quickly to leave.

It hurts. Everything hurts.

Ava called after him, her words clinging like a shadow as he walked away. “Whether you’re willing to accept it yet or not, she’s going to be gone soon- and then I’ll be all you have left.”

…

It was actually a relief for Hyunjin to have the upcoming exams to occupy his mind and suck away most of his free time. If not for the constant distraction he had from the diminishing time you had left in New York, Hyunjin wasn’t sure what he would have done. Already he thought of your departure far too often for his confused and aching heart. Two days, that was it, and he was completely torn in every way concerning you. Only one thing felt certain; there was no way to stop this. You were leaving- and you were leaving for good. Hyunjin held no power to stop it. Ava’s words flooded his brain, too, but he was determined not to dwell on that. He had more pressing things right now.

He could only watch as your last day dawned, flooded near full with exams. Hyunjin carried his worries with him even as he completed his tests, mind having trouble focusing at first when he spotted your hunched figure in one of the seats. You didn’t look his way, but he could still see the tiredness in your gaze, lack of proper sleep evident in the dark circles that were like bruises under your eyes. He chewed absentmindedly on his lip until the overseer cleared their throat, glaring at Hyunjin- the exam had already started.

From there, he tried his damned hardest on each task. He wasn’t confident by the end- but then again, he never was. When he at last handed in his paper, one of the last students in the room, he found your figure had disappeared.

It was just as well, he decided. His next exam was the most important to do well on. You’d only serve to distract his mind.

Yeah. So why do I feel so heavy?

The next exam, somehow, passed smoothly. Maybe last minute panic and pressure had helped with his focus, or maybe you really had been quite the study partner. But by the end he was cautiously optimistic that he had gotten a decent score.

Regardless, leaving the university grounds was extremely relieving. At least now he could leave this burden behind- he’d done his best, and he supposed the rest was up to fate now. The day was cloudy and warmer than yesterday- maybe even warm enough for rainfall to replace the snow. He sent a silent prayer against it, and hurried down the sidewalk.

His dorm had never felt more welcoming; Hyunjin dropped his bag in the entrance and promptly collapsed onto the nearest surface- his couch- with a heavy exhale. His eyes closed, a headache stinging at the edges of his brow.

And here his thoughts of you resurfaced. The horrible realization that you were leaving tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

It felt surreal, like a dream he’d wake up from soon enough. Reality would return and you’d be staying, finances taken care of- and Hyunjin would be better, the hollowness in himself somehow filled. No problems, no worries; just the two of you, strong and whole enough to face anything the world could throw at you.

“If only.” He whispered to the empty room, returned only by dull silence.

He couldn’t just sit here, or he would go insane.

He was seeing you off tomorrow at the airport, but the time that stretched until then was sure to be agonizing. He wondered if he’d be able to sleep. He wondered if he would be able to bear the steady march of time; sixteen hours to go.

His hands itched to grab his jacket and run out the door to find something heavy to drink. He wanted to drown his dread and anxiety in bouts of alcohol, the feelings caged in his chest threatening to shatter his rib cage with its pressure. Instead, he stood abruptly with a resolute shake of his head, heading for the kitchen. If he just kept himself busy, he would be okay. He wasn’t about to show up at the airport with a raging hangover. That wasn’t fair to you and was hardly how he wanted his goodbye to be.

Goodbye.

His fingers twitched. Hyunjin blew out a breath and pulled a package of ramen from the cupboard.

Fifteen hours and fifty-eight minutes. He ripped open the package and set to work.

…

You had one more exam than Hyunjin; you took it later in the day, late in the afternoon. Your previous exams had all been haunted with the shadow of your approaching departure, and you’d desperately pushed them away. You’d had a tough sleep the night before, which didn’t help your already foggy brain, but you were still fairly optimistic as you stepped out of your last exam room. Tests were your forte, something you’d always excelled in. Even the opinion essay hadn’t proved overly difficult. You were almost cheery as you walked away from the school grounds.

Almost.

At the main gates, you turned around and simply watched. Students huddled in groups big and small, laughter carried by the wind as celebrations ensued, grateful for exams to be over. A light layer of snow glistened over the ground, melting around the edges; a sparrow hopped over its branch, carefree. Your smile faded as your eyes trailed the area, every building, tree and person.

“See ya, I guess.” You murmured, absentmindedly tapping one of the gate’s stone pillars. The first of many goodbyes you’d face today. Already you felt heavier.

Your feet dragged slightly over the sidewalk as you trudged in the vague direction of your apartment. A couple students waved and shouted farewells, but none of them were close enough acquaintances to offer anything more. You stopped off by your work on the way home, and it was almost relieving to have a final farewell. It was like tying everything up; exchanging thank yous and good lucks that made it a little easier to smile as you found your way to your apartment afterwards. Upon entering the silent space, however, you felt your smile fade as your mind wandered to your most difficult goodbye.

And Hwang Hyunjin, you certainly aren’t making it any easier.

You busied yourself with packing, stuffing all of your belongings into a large suitcase and travel bags. Accompanied by gentle music and the fading light outside your window, you felt slightly more at ease. Slowly your flat was emptied- the only food, a few cartons of Chinese food and sushi, was quickly devoured- and your bags were ready by the door for the following morning. A last sweep of the rooms later, you flopped on the floor exhausted.

By now, the sky had darkened significantly. The lights of the city stretched out to the horizon, a faint golden glow rising from the busy streets that rushed on without a care in the world. As if one of its residents wasn’t seeing this view for the last time.

And here they were; tears that filled your eyes and blurred your vision of the rising skyscrapers and bustling cafes below as you pressed your fingertips to the cold glass of the window. Damn. You shook your head when the first tear slipped over, wiping your eyes. You would not spend your last night crying. If you had to leave, tonight would be one to remember, you were determined.

But how? How, when the hole inside you felt so vastly empty? You swore nothing could make you forget it. Hell, nothing ever did.

Except…

You sat up straight with sudden clarity. Maybe you did know exactly what you wanted tonight.

Maybe it’s foolish. Maybe it’s selfish.

But even if it was, you couldn’t help it. Shit, Hyunjin. You couldn’t begin to understand the grip you have on me.

Your phone was out of your pocket in an instant and before you could chicken out, the line was ringing. You waited, breath held, for several tones before… click.

“Y/n?”

You’d never been more happy to hear his voice. You swallowed, fingertips sliding down the glass. The city really did look so pretty tonight.

“You owe me, remember?”

“Anything.” He replied, and the genuine care in his tone nearly broke you. You blinked back more tears as you struggled to answer. LA would be so lonely without him.

Your voice was quiet when you at last spoke a little shakily into the speaker. “Can I come pick you up?”

…

When the phone call ended, Hyunjin’s mind flew into a frenzy.

As soon as you’d asked him, he hadn’t hesitated to say yes. He didn’t need a reason to see you- but now that you’d hung up, and the silence of his empty apartment greeted him, he began to worry.

It was very unlike you to call out of the blue like this- and request to see him instantly. Was something wrong? Had something happened? He quickly changed into something nicer- a red button up and black jeans- before anxiously waiting in the lobby downstairs, coat in his arms.

The minutes seemed to stretch on for ages before he finally spotted your car pulling into the parking lot. He hurried out the door and jogged towards your vehicle, greeting you first by your rolled down window.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, breathing heavy from his short run.

“I’m sorry this is so sudden- I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, slow down.” Hyunjin stared worriedly at your face; you were trembling and almost as out of breath as he was. “Take a breath.”

You nodded and inhaled slowly, before blurting out, “Let’s go somewhere. I want my last night here-” you swallowed roughly. “I want it to be special.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Hyunjin timidly took your hand and squeezed it. “Where are we off to then?”

You smiled then, and Hyunjin wished he could capture that moment in his brain forever- the way your eyes softened around the edges, and he could almost feel a bit of your stress melt away. “Get in and you’ll find out.”

Whatever little luck brought you here to me tonight; thank you.

And his heart hammered a little faster as he took his spot in the passenger’s seat and realized that for your very last night in New York, you’d wanted to spend it with him.

“Alright.” Hyunjin strapped on his buckle. “Ready.”

You glanced sideways at him, and a little grin pulled at your lips. “What do you say to sushi?”

…

Of course Hyunjin held no complaints about ordering from your favourite sushi place, and in no time you were wandering the streets of New York, sharing a large tin of sushi rolls. You’d abandoned your car in favour of walking, and it was oddly easy to forget about your upcoming departure in Hyunjin’s presence. For now, at least, you were with him and you could pretend that it could last forever. You fell into a natural rhythm quickly, even down to the last piece of sushi that you- of course- fought over.

“It’s my favourite kind!” You whined, as Hyunjin laughed and held the tin out of your reach.

“I’m sacrificing my evening for this.” Hyunjin teased, as you rolled your eyes. He laughed, making you smile grudgingly before he lowered the tin and offered it to you. “I guess you can have it, though.”

You made a point of enjoying your last piece as Hyunjin discarded the tin and you moved forward again. Your eyes observed the busy city with its towering skyscrapers and buzzing cafes and the nearby park. It was still weird to you how quickly this place had grown to feel like home.

You noticed Hyunjin watching you, and raised an eyebrow in his direction. He simply shrugged with a bashful smile. “Everything’s really pretty tonight.”

You nodded, ignoring the sudden urge to hold the boy’s hand as he walked beside you. You crossed the street while fighting the tug in your chest, before resolutely stuffing your fist into your coat pocket. “Look at the fountain.”

Both your eyes turned to observe the bubbling fountain as students and couples and friends balanced on the stone ledge surrounding the clear water. It was oddly quiet today as you trailed behind Hyunjin to stand beside it. You watched him stare at the water, a small smile on his face.

“Remember when you fell in-”

“Yeah, you promised never to mention that again!” You exclaimed, smacking his arm as the boy laughed.

“You asked me to take a picture, but when you turned to pose-” he was giggling uncontrollably now, and you couldn’t help but smile at that. “You tripped and fell-”

“I got soaked, and the water was freezing.” You replied indignantly, as Hyunjin settled on the ledge as his laughter subsided. You joined him after a minute, and all was silent again.

“We used to make wishes in the fountain, too.” Hyunjin murmured, almost too quiet for you to hear. “But I don’t think I have any coins now.”

You turned your head so you could see the water ripple with the next gentle breath of wind. “Maybe we’ve run out of wishes.” You whispered.

Was it the dim lighting, or did Hyunjin have faint tears in his eyes? But then he blinked and they were gone, and he was standing. He gestured away with his head, smiling. “Come on, let’s go somewhere else.”

You stood, looking down each of the paths. Each one held memories that you’d shared with your classmates and various acquaintances- and more than any of them, with Hyunjin. You didn’t know if you had the willpower to move yet.

“It’s okay.” You tilted your head to look at Hyunjin, who smiled gently at you before looking back at the scenery and adding, “Take your time.”

His thoughtfulness always caught you off guard. Again, you felt the urge to take Hyunjin’s hand in yours. It was nearly unbearable because he didn’t even notice your struggle, still staring out at the park grounds.

Ah, what the hell-

Before you could lose your nerve, you grabbed Hyunjin's hand and quickly intertwined your fingers with his. His head whirled to face you, eyes wide as they stared at your hands locked together. You braced yourself, half expecting for him to pull away. Instead, he squeezed your hand lightly and smiled before joining you in watching the bustle of the park one last time.

Maybe you were only making this harder for yourself- for the both of you, even. But his hand in yours felt so good in this moment that you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

…

Hyunjin could tell how difficult this was for you, even before you’d stopped by the fountain.

He wondered if he’d been in the right for bringing up the incident- but you’d been smiling, and that was what mattered tonight. Helping you to enjoy that last bit of time you had in this city, painted with memories.

So he pulled you forward into a light run, an idea tugging on his brain as you called after him.

“Hyunjin- what-”

“Trust me, I have an idea.” He replied, glancing over his shoulder at your chasing figure. He was relieved to see you smiling again. “Let’s hope it’s still cold enough, though.”

Your curious expression was adorable. Hyunjin just hoped you’d be as thrilled with his idea as he was.

At last, he found what he was looking for. Your eyes stretched wide as you took in the ice rink- luckily still usable- and Hyunjin waited nervously for you to speak. “Well? What do you think?”.

“You remembered.” You said softly, turning to Hyunjin with your eyes aglow. You slowly smiled at him- and Hyunjin thought he might do anything to earn that smile from you again. “You remembered I wanted to try ice skating one day…”

“Why not now?” He tugged on your sleeve, and immediately you nodded.

“But… we don’t have skates.”

“An easy fix.” He responded, and in minutes you’d rented two pairs of skates. Another few minutes as you laced them up, and then you were both standing before the rink, empty save for a few other people.

Hyunjin stepped carefully onto the ice first- a little melt-y around the edges but ice nonetheless. “Here.” He offered you his hand, suddenly feeling shy when you stared at it. At last you took his hand, and his fingertips tingled at the touch.

“Here.” He grabbed your other hand, ignoring the heat on the back of his neck and ears as he helped you onto the ice. You wobbled slightly, gripping his hands tighter. Hyunjin chucked at your wary expression. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

You didn’t look assured but nodded anyway. “Alright, now what?”

“Skate!” Hyunjin faked releasing your hands, and you gasped, reaching to take his fingers in a death grip. He felt a rush of immense pleasure run through him as you pulled him back to you, even as you muttered curses at him.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself-”

“Asshole.”

“I promise, no more tricks.”

“You’d better mean it, Hwang Hyunjin, I swear to god-”

He laughed, and slowly started to skate backwards. You inhaled sharply, but attempted a step forward, then another. It was shaky, for sure, but after a minute or so you started to loosen up.

“There! You’re a natural!” Hyunjin grinned, watching as you pushed out slightly with your next step. You looked at him, eyes wide with wonder.

“It’s like…”

“Flying. Isn’t it?” He murmured, and you nodded. “Ready for me to let go?”

“Okay.” You said, and Hyunjin released your hands.

He watched breathlessly as you inhaled before lifting your right foot. With a small push off the other foot, you were sailing forward- a small wobble, but you remained upright as you took the next step. And the next, and the next.

“Hyunjin!” You shouted, beaming, and Hyunjin’s heart was soaring with you as you attempted to turn and come back to him. But he beat you, too excited at your success. He skated to you and before he could think better of it, he’d pulled you to his chest in a tight hug.

“You were flying.” He said with a soft laugh, while simultaneously feeling a lump in his throat as you wound your arms around him. He felt oddly emotional as he held you, before having at least enough sense to let you go after a brief moment. “You did it.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to without you.” You replied, softly.

And for some reason, those words made his heart ache.

“Come on.” He murmured, reaching to take your hand again. “Let’s skate.”

And keep pretending that tomorrow will never come.

…

Hyunjin knew that you both spent hours on the ice, but it passed by in the blink of an eye. You were a fast learner, and after a while you were both whizzing over the rink, chasing each other, and spinning one another in circles. Every time Hyunjin’s eyes met your excited ones, it left him breathless; he was just that in love with you.

However, your feet grew tired eventually and you retired from the ice. After you returned the skates, you continued down the pathways of the park side by side. You were practically glowing, and Hyunjin found himself feeling proud that he’d been able to make you smile like this tonight.

The sky was dark now, and the park was growing quieter as more people retired for the night. With the late hour returned Hyunjin’s sense of dread. He was again made aware that he had such limited time with you, and it was gnawing at his mind feverishly. He wanted to hold your hand again, but he felt hesitant now. Why would he, when he’d have to let go again anyways?

“Look!” You exclaimed, bringing him out of his thoughts. You were pointing to a shaded booth ahead; a short line of people were waiting for a turn for photos.

“Do you want to?” Hyunjin asked, to which you immediately nodded.

“It’ll be a nice momento for tonight before we have to head home.” You murmured as you approached the line, and the pair in front of you stepped inside the photo booth.

Hyunjin felt a sharp pang in his chest at your words, but made sure it didn’t show. He merely smiled, determined not to bring down your mood. “That would be nice.”

And as it turned out, it was exactly what you both needed. Between goofy faces and funny props, you were both laughing again as you tumbled from the box and received your photo strips.

“You look ridiculous.” You gasped out, pointing to one of the pictures.

“Hey, speak for yourself.” Hyunjin replied, and you collapsed into a fit of giggles again.

Eventually you calmed down again, and you realized just how late it was getting. Hyunjin wished you could have an eternity to spend here, just soaking in each other’s presence, but all too soon he was back in your car. The streets were painfully clear, bringing back Hyunjin’s sense of dread as a few raindrops began to fall, before evolving into a slow drizzle.

He’d see you tomorrow too, he tried to assure himself as he watched the rain fall.

But for some reason, this still felt like the end.

And when the triad of dorm halls came into view, an easy goodnight seemed increasingly more impossible. Hyunjin frowned when you stopped by the side of the road- just outside of the parking lot- grinding to a stop and turning off the vehicle. He glanced at your face, half hidden in the darkness, but with visible wetness on your cheeks.

“Y/n?” He murmured gently, deep concern rising in his already tight chest. When you didn’t look at him, he carefully took your hand. You flinched at his touch, but when Hyunjin moved to let go, you only gripped him tighter. It was completely silent, save for the faint sound of the rain on the car roof.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered, rubbing your hand with his thumb, hating how utterly hollow your eyes looked at this moment. He wished he could somehow take away every pain that burdened you, and fix every shitty thing that tore you from this place and from him. You deserved so much more, and if he could give it to you he would in a heartbeat. Now, all he could do was watch as you slowly looked at him and locked gazes.

The rain pounded in time with his heart that suddenly spud up. There was something unfamiliar in your eyes; something blazing in them. Something like a spark.

How it happened, Hyunjin didn’t know- but then your lips were firmly attached to his, moving slowly to capture his own perfectly. And he was kissing you back, and nothing else mattered anymore except the roaring fire of adrenaline overtaking his body as he quickly moved to grasp your face in his hands and kiss you harder. It was deep and passionate and raw with emotions that now burst into the open; months upon months of yearning and longing and at last he knew exactly what you tasted like- and he could tangle his fingers into your hair and press you closer, closer, ever closer.

You were lightning, and you’d set him ablaze.

And just as suddenly as it had started he was pulling back, finding his own cheeks tear stained, gasping for air that hadn’t seemed important seconds ago but now felt impossibly needed.

“No, we can’t, we can’t-“ he sobbed, hating every word of what tumbled from his lips when his heart screamed anything but ‘no.’ “I’m sorry, y/n, I’m sorry but we can’t-”

“Why not?” You choked out in a fervent whisper, a desperate gleam in your eyes that were also muddled with tears. “Crazier things have happened, right?”

“It’s impossible.” Hyunjin whispered, almost choking himself, on the words and his hatred of them. But if this world had taught him anything, it was that life was never, ever fucking fair.

“I can’t love you.” His breathing was ragged as he blinked harshly against tears, trying to keep his composure, keep strong like he’d always made himself be; yet those crystals of pain dripped down his cheeks anyways. “You’re going to California and you’re going to graduate and become an incredible journalist. And I’ll only stand in the way.” Hyunjin tried to collect himself again, fighting the raw feeling of his throat- but he’d never felt pain as horrible as this. You’d been so perfect in his embrace.

“I could never deserve you anyways.”

“Hyunjin… that’s not true. We….” But your words were aimless and you fell silent again, biting your lips as another tear trickled down your face. You knew it, too, didn’t you? Things could never have worked out between you- it was a horrible, bitter truth.

It was his fault, he convinced himself then. His fault this was so hard for you.

He had to let you go, if only for your sake.

But before he did, he allowed himself to gently brush away your tears, and softly kiss your stained cheeks. You closed your eyes as he gently kissed your forehead- when he tore away from you at last, his aching heart tore, too.

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could manage before he pushed open the car door and stumbled out of the vehicle into the drizzle of rain. It was mere seconds before he felt the too familiar ache in his chest welling up again, and he dashed towards the dorm buildings before you could see him break.

He forced himself not to look back- for your sake or his own, he wasn’t sure.

…

Hyunjin’s mind was spinning as his feet carried him into the nearest building. He didn’t even realize that he wasn’t in his own dorm hall until his phone was in his hands, and he was speaking into it.

“Can I come?”

It hurt too much. The wrenching pain in his heart was unbearable as flashes of that moment in the car ran through his mind like a film. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream; more than all of those, he wanted the pain to go away. It was instinct that took him here, knocking on the door and hearing her soft voice tell him, “Come in.”

It was dark inside, only a sole lamp giving light to the room. Ava was perched on the edge of the couch, black skirt riding suspiciously up her thigh as she twisted her hair. Her catlike eyes found his own. “That’s it then.” She whispered as Hyunjin found himself reaching for the doorframe, feeling weary. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

Your hand had been so warm in his.

Numbly, he nodded. Ava exhaled, biting her bottom lip as she stood, languid and feline in her steps towards him.

“Come on, baby.” She murmured, leaning in to mumble in his ear. “Let me help you.”

He let her pull him forward, mind warring against itself as she made fast work of his shirt, kissing down his collarbone and sighing against his skin. He was pushed down onto the couch, his own hands acting instinctively- mechanically- to crawl over her skin. She hummed in approval, looking at him with gleaming eyes. “I’ll take care of you.” She purred, climbing on top of him and trailing kisses along his jawline as she raked her fingers through his damp hair. Her lips ghosted over his as his shaky hands unclasped her bra, fingers trailing her skin as her warmth pressed closer.

And Hyunjin felt utterly cold.

Every night he’d done this, it had been out of hopelessness. A way to distract himself- from school, from his own misery, and most importantly from the girl he could never have. And maybe he was an asshole for it, but it had been the only thing he could think of to keep himself from chasing after you. He’d known right from the first moment he’d fallen for you that you were way too good for him and he’d been sure he could only bring you misery if you knew of his feelings. So he’d hidden them, and with Ava’s help he’d kept himself busy.

But now he’d tasted your lips, and for a split second it could have been you in his embrace. It could have been you as his lover. And no touch of Ava’s could make him forget that feeling, and the intense loneliness in his heart could no longer be buried without you.

Hyunjin pulled back instantly, pushing out of Ava’s grasp and whirling to stand. He stumbled, light headed, suddenly needing so much room away from her and the act that he could no longer play a part in. He mumbled out a mindless apology as he leaned heavily against the nearest wall, the huge hole in his chest rapidly expanding. He looked back at Ava, her shadowed figure frozen on the couch.

Strangely her eyes held no surprise, only resolve. The room was silent for several beats- just heavy breathing, and Hyunjin’s heart racing in his ear- before she spoke.

“I knew you didn’t love me when this started.” She murmured, gathering her discarded shirt over her knees as she glared at the wall. “I didn’t expect it; that wasn’t the deal. I guess I just hoped that somewhere along the way, you might start to.”

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin whispered, shaky hand finding his hair- then running over his face, his neck, anything to distract from the ache in his heart.

She merely looked at him, expression like stone. “Save it. I don’t want your pity. And I don’t think I even want you anymore.”

He hardly registered those words, the pain in his heart so overwhelming that he thought nothing else would be able to shake him. He just took it, feeling guilty and pathetic and broken.

“Go home, Hyunjin.” Her voice trembled as she turned away again. “And don’t talk to me anymore.”

When he stepped outside, he didn’t even feel the rain. He paused under the frigid drops, staring up at the sky for who knew how long. It had never been so hard to take a step, but Hyunjin forced himself one by one to walk away from the hall.

Eventually Hyunjin arrived at his own dorm, soaked and shivering as he shuffled into his room. The door slowly closed behind him with a click, and the dripping bag in his grasp slipped to the ground.

He stood numbly in the doorstep for several seconds, mind trying to process his surroundings now that he’d been greeted with quiet and calm for the first time that night. At last he moved robotically to remove his shoes- but his foot caught on the lip and he stumbled, knees hitting the ground painfully hard.

Oddly enough, it was this moment that broke him.

It started in welling tears and trembling hands as he ripped the shoe off and dropped it to the floor, trying to catch a breath that continuously escaped him. It all hit him in a wave, emotions too strong for names; the first sob burst from his lips, followed by another and another and another. Once it started, he couldn’t stop- he slowly rocked his body and subconsciously lowered himself to the floor, too weary to stay upright. He found his arms curling around himself, head burying into their cold embrace and finding little comfort as the emptiness of his room and his heart consumed him.

As tears fell faster and his sobs wretched harsher, his mind screamed at him. Pathetic. You’re so pathetic. Laying on the cold floor by his door, crying so hard he nearly vomited, Hyunjin certainly felt that way.

He wore himself out crying, with too little energy to pull himself any farther than the kitchen. Exhausted, he collapsed with heavy breaths on the tile; he could still feel your photo booth pictures in his jacket pocket.

It was a relief when sleep came and allowed his mind to drift away, momentarily giving him peace from the bitterness of reality. When he eventually awoke, the sun greeted him with bright happy rays that he could not smile for. Today was your last.

He’d promised to see you off, hadn't he?

Pathetic.

Yeah, he was. And he couldn’t bear to follow through.

Ten minutes before your flight left, he was still on the ground, miserable and guilty and hollow.

I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry.

…

You strained your neck to see over the crowd as yet another warning reminded you that you needed to board your flight immediately. But desperate hope made you stay, clinging to the plea that Hyunjin would come. He had to.

“This is the last call for flight 325, departing to Los Angeles, California in ten minutes. All passengers please ensure you follow…”

Your grip on your bags tightened, but the crowd was thinning and as you scanned the area again- no Hwang Hyunjin.

You couldn’t wait any longer.

Holding your bags, you raced to board, eyes sweeping the area one last time before you entered the cabin, heart sinking. You found your spot, packing your bags into the overhead compartment before falling back into your seat. Now that you were still, you had a minute to process.

He hadn’t come.

You glanced out the window and found the scenery slightly blurred. What, tears? You blinked quickly to clear them, swiping at your eyes with a sudden wave of frustration. So what if Hyunjin hadn’t come? So what if he’d broken his promise? It didn’t matter now. You were leaving for good, and you could hardly expect him to bid you farewell after everything.

You didn’t want to admit it, but as one stupid stubborn tear dripped down your face- it hurt like hell leaving without a proper goodbye.

Why hadn’t he come? Was he so ready to cut ties and move on now that you were leaving? The ghost of your shared kiss lingered in your brain, and you had to wonder; why had you done it? It had been stupid and selfish, but you hadn’t been able to help it. He’d looked at you with so much warmth and concern that you’d acted on impulse- and once your lips had touched his, you couldn’t have pulled away if you wanted to. But why had he kissed you back, and why hadn’t he come today, and why couldn’t you have had more time? More time to kiss him like that. More time to love him, and share coffees and muffins, and share glances across lectures that were particularly boring. You wanted him close, and just when he could have fallen into your embrace, you were dragged away- and now you’d messed up a relationship with someone you loved for a stupid kiss. Idiot.

Perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be.

But damn, you’d so hoped it would be.

The plane jolted as it began to move, heading for the runway. You wanted to swear to yourself no more tears, but as more and more memories of New York flooded through your mind it was impossible.

Silent droplets traced your cheeks as the plane’s speed picked up, and then you were off the ground. At that very moment, it hit the hardest.

Goodbye, New York. You stifled a sob, eyes squeezing shut as not to see the city below fade from view. Goodbye, Hyunjin.

…

A month later

Hyunjin wanted to call you, he really did.

He missed you every day, but he couldn’t call you. Couldn’t even muster up the courage to text you, because it wasn’t fair to you. Why would you want to hear from him after he’d broken his promise and left you hanging? He would go to the ends of the earth if you asked him to, but he would not chase after you- not if he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t hurt you again.

He had never deserved you. He didn’t know if he ever would have, either.

He collapsed on his couch after work, exhausted from the day and the heavy snow that had been dumped on the city and made travelling much harder. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he released a long sigh. His eyes fell on his phone, sitting on the coffee table and his heart clenched.

What he wouldn’t do to see your smile again.

He made himself shake his head and stand up. Walk to the kitchen counter, find a mug from the cupboards. He carefully poured boiling water into the cup with a tea bag and brought the steaming drink with him as he settled back on the couch. The silence immediately consumed him.

He couldn’t even try to lie to himself; it was so much lonelier without you. Everywhere he looked had your fingerprints all over it; the fountain, the university, his dorm. Even the flower shop housed your ghost from the days you’d stop by, complimenting the baskets and clipping the ribbons with him. He remembered how happy you’d been in summer when the first of the roses had bloomed and you’d had stores upon stores of them.

“I’ve never seen so many roses in my life-” you breathed, mouth open.

He was tempted to tease your gaping expression as a resemblance to a fish, but he was too endeared by your wonder to mention it. “You should see the store during Valentine’s.”

“There’s more then?”

“There’s hundreds of them, in every different colour.” Hyunjin grinned when you plucked one and observed it.

“No thorns.”

“We clip them.”

“Ah.” You put the stem experimentally between your teeth, and this time Hyunjin couldn’t help himself.

“You look like a beaver.”

You frowned, pulling the rose from your mouth. “It’s supposed to be charming.”

“Yes, a very charming beaver.”

You threw the rose at him, and Hyunjin clumsily caught it with a laugh. “Hey, don’t be mad. I’ll even make it up to you.”

You’d raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“I’ll give you the rose for free.”

He offered it to you, and watched the tips of your ears flame. With sudden shyness, he shrugged. “If you want it.”

“Yes.” You murmured, carefully plucking the rose from between his fingers. A second of tense silence passed before you blinked, and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” If it makes you smile, then anything.

Would the ache in his heart ever heal? He missed everything you’d been together, back when California hadn’t been a part of the equation. More than anything, he just wished you were beside him again.

If you hadn’t left, what would have happened? Would you still have kissed him? Would you be what he woke up to every morning? Or would he have messed it up anyways?

His eyes trailed to the sealed papers that lay beside his phone- midterm marks he’d received the day before and hadn’t yet found the courage to open. He didn’t know what would happen if his marks had suffered, but it certainly wouldn’t be pretty.

But… he would have to face them sooner or later. With hesitancy, Hyunjin grasped the papers and turned them over. After pausing for a breath in and out, he folded them open.

His eyes scanned the pages, desperately finding each grade mark as he held his breath. His first few had remained the same, or improved by barely a couple points. And the very last one, his most worrisome class…

Had improved.

Improved.

He grinned at the terrible mark, in all its glory, and laughed. Relief swept through his body as he sank back into the couch, letting the paper fall away with his anxieties. Maybe he wouldn’t flunk out, after all.

And who helped him to study for it?

The smile faded slowly as your face swam into his mind with a sharp pang in his chest. This time, however, it came with a realization- of you.

You, who’d touched him in so many ways. Who’d always had his back and had always believed in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself. Who’d meant so much to him, so much that he thought he might even love you - and he was just going to let you go because of a few mistakes? Because of a little distance?

He still owed you at least a dozen apologies, and there was so much left unsaid. And he didn’t know what the future held for the two of you; he didn’t know if you’d be able to pick up all the broken pieces and carry forward or if you’d only be separated and splintered further.

All he knew was that a part of him was out there, 2789 miles away. And it hurt too much not to try and fix it.

I must be the biggest idiot in the world. He thought with a shake of his head. Whether as your friend or your lover- or something in between- no matter what happens with us, it’ll be worth it if I have you.

So he steeled his nerves, took a deep breath and let it out again. Then he picked up the phone, and dialed the number he’d had memorized since the day he’d met you.

His heart raced in his ear as the tone rang. He didn’t know what you would say. Hell, he didn’t know what he would say. He really didn’t know anything.

But maybe one day, if the universe decided to give you both a break, then maybe- just maybe- you’d see each other again. You’d be beside him again, and he’d be able to wrap you in his arms, place his head on top of yours and his bleeding, broken heart would slowly start to mend.

He could believe it; he could hope. Because your tentative hello that crackled over the speaker sounded cautiously hopeful, too.

After all, crazier things have happened, right?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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