#bro its like my third eye is wide the fuck open but its just for Content Analysis

[alilaro]

small personal update

.

taking a break from being so intensely involved with volturi fandom has been a really good thing for me I think.

I still think about and draw them daily—to me they are like my own characters now, with long much I have changed them, and how much it has changed me since being a preteen.

But I think I got so obsessed with posting, being liked, and being a weird persona of myself that I just burnt myself out. Especially from 2017—2019, I was just a mess, and addicted to the praise and attention I got from posting non-stop, and making content almost purely to please others (which I now realize was a way of escaping the nightmare that was my previously incredibly abusive household, and the years of neglect that came with it.)

And now, since 2022 I've been on a hiatus, and I think that was the right decision for me.

its been really hard in some ways. After escaping my toxic father, the shock and grief of it all was so so much for me to handle. All those years, my entire life, locked in a room, guilted and fear-mongered into complete and never-ending isolation; to finally be free from that was both liberating but the hardest thing I've ever done, and it crushed me, it drained everything from me, including my one tether: my art.

i struggled with it for a while, and still do. i still only draw the bare minimum, but when I draw now its for me. there's no more 'cant draw That because its Cringe'. theres no constant, nagging guilt from not posting something in over a month. i don't have to make excuses, or grovel manically for imagined people to forgive me—as if not posting is some cardinal sin.

i just draw for fun, because I feel like it. because it makes me happy. :-)

#i also dont feel restricted to just making art or enjoying things that relate back to the volturi somehow #like ive really branched out in what kinds of movies and media I consume; and its so new and exciting #THIS IS NOT ME SAYING I DONT LOVE THIS BLOG #or the friends ive made via this fandom; or that i dont like/am done with the volturi #its just the weight of guilting myself into having to be a one-trick-pony isn't really there anymore #also??? ive really honed in on my critical literacy and overall understanding and interpretations of different media #bro its like my third eye is wide the fuck open but its just for Content Analysis #also as a counter to all of this im probably gonna post some volturi art soon LMAAAO #its nothing much; just some old au (dragon age/dnd) designs I never posted. maybe even those timeline chibi bases i never posted #personal

[wernher-von-brawny]

I marvel that I got to exist on this planet at the same time as Carl Sagan.

I think I felt this way as far back as 1980, when Cosmos was airing on PBS, and I couldn’t get why the nation was not drowning in Cosmos-mania, the way it had with Star Wars a few years earlier.

I mean, Star Wars was fun, with the “pew! pew! pew!” and the incest and all, but Cosmos was even more mind-blowing, and it was, like -- Real! Like, science and shit!!!

“May the Force be with you”? Banal.

“We are made of star stuff”? Third eye blasted wide motherfucking open!!!

As cringe as the posthumous lionizing of The Greatest Generation or Boomers can get, I have to concede that there was something damn special about a couple scoops worth of the folks who emerged from the post-war and counter-culture eras, when intelligence, inquiry, and reason had not yet been made forever unfashionable by the fuckbois of Madison Avenue.

Before genuine -- not performative -- principled, moral behavior and a healthy distrust of the military-industrial complex was recast as “naiveté” by the fucking Reagan Revolution.

I look around today, and I see high-quality public persons, no doubt. But we’ve all been raised in and conditioned by a different, more cynical and distracted culture.

A culture lacking, for example, the first-person experience of how opening the door even a crack to pro-business, neoliberal, “unleash the market” jingoism would lead directly and inevitably to the Facism2023™ that will sooner or later make its way into the Oval Office.

(Although “The Greatest Generation” did vote Reagan into office, so even the folks who actually lived through it once before, voted it in with a pride that was only outweighed by their willful ignorance.)

And that hard-won world, that unique recipe, gave us humans like Fred Rogers and James Baldwin and Kurt Vonnegut and Ursula K Le Guin and Bob Ross and a bunch more.

A culture that could produce artists and activists and thinkers like that seems, to those of us raised by TV and the internet to believe that the highest virtue a citizen consumer can aspire after is celebrity, almost cartoonishly improbable.

But it was (apparently) real, and it gave us the amazing, beautiful Carl Sagan: a scientist with the soul of a poet.

And when I see old clips like this, when I see how resolutely and comfortably my boy is just plain himself when appearing on the media of his day, how stoked he is to be sharing with us what he’s learned through rigor and study; and how his words are wise and full of the kindness, wonder, reverence, and spiritual awe that the MAGAchurch bros can only karaoke...

It makes me marvel that this was a person who actually existed, and that I got to share the planet with him for a while.

Wow.

#forever gay for carl sagan

[s4turns-r1ngs]

Hello Hello!!

I just wanted to say o love your Bench trio fics! They’re amazing!

I was also wondering if you could do The bench trio X Gn! Hybrid Reader! Where the reader is a Fox hybrid!

The reader likes to play tricks/pranks on people! Especially the Dream Team! And while setting up a prank, the bench trio sees them and asks why they’re doing! The reader tells them and Tommy and Tubbo ask if they can join! Dragging Ranboo into it!

After that they hang out a lot and pull pranks in people! The reader also stealing from The Dream Team and Techno sometimes!

A little thing you can add if you want is that the reader gifts a lot of gifts to their friends! Tommy keeps all the little gifts in a secret chest! Tubbo keeps them in a separate room on his house! And Ranboo writes the things you give him on his memory book and puts them in his ender chest so he never looses them!

ALSO!! The reader would sometimes kidnap Micheal to spend the entire day with him! Spoiling him to no end with Toys, clothes, food, etc! You dont have to add this tho!!

Take care! <33

DSMP - Sneaky

Summary: As a fox hybrid, it was only a matter of time before you pulled Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo into your plans. (Also bonus Michael content because Michael Is Beloved. <3)

Pronouns: they/them

Warnings: Swearing, General Chaos (its the bench trio, are you surprised), consensual kidnapping

-> [a/n] - oh my god??? thank you???? you're so nice?????? sldfjlskdjfsldjfslkfjl,, i hope this is good! also first part is in third person pov, because i need to get better at writing that lol. readers dialougue is blue :]

-> p!c!benchtrio (and michael too <3) + reader, the beginning has a little p!bbh + reader too :]

> divider that i can't add bc im not on mobile. sadge <

[y/n] smiled mischievously as they rounded the corner, making sure that the unsuspecting victim (which at the moment, is badboyhalo) couldn't see them. they wanted to make sure that their trick worked, so that they could possibly use it on someone else later. of course, they would apologize to bad, because they still value him as a friend, but even friends play pranks on each other every now and again.

their ears perked up as they heard talking from around the corner they just turned. peaking their head around, [y/n] was greeted with some of their closest friends: tommy, tubbo, and ranboo.

"oh, hey guys!" they greeted, with a small wave as they repositioned themself so that they could talk to their friends, and watch bad at the same time.

ranboo smiled. "hey [y/n]!"

tommy and tubbo ran up to them, a wide smile on the latter's face, while tommy just looks like he doesn't want to be here. (obviously he does, but he's tommy. it's not really surprising at this point.) either way, he mutters out a "hello" with a smile he seems to be repressing.

tubbo looks around the corner. "so what are you doing?"

"oh!" [y/n] exclaims, tail swishing ever so slightly faster. "oh! i'm just testing out a new...'trick'!"

ranboo raises an eyebrow in suspicion. "a...'trick'? what are you-"

the fox hybrid holds up a finger, moving their body so that they were hidden around the corner. "shhh. it's about to happen!"

the trio watches [y/n]'s eyes light up as the demon, once dry, is covered in water. they all hear him shout and see him look around, as if to try and catch the culprit. bad glances over at the corner just in time to see [y/n] duck behind it.

"[y/n]!"

"shit." they turn towards the three, and with another smile they stand properly. "sorry guys, gotta blast! nice seeing you, though!"

they hear tommy let out his signature laugh as they run, a nine and a half foot tall demon chasing after you.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

giving gifts! (hcs bc yes)

tubbo:

-> ngl you probably woke him up in the middle of the night bc you found something cool. or made something cool. either or.

-> he will take it regaurdless of whether or not he's tired as shit or wide awake. free stuff from fox friend? cool. give.

-> he probably has a shelf in his house with all your little gifts on it.

-> he may not say it immediately most of the time (bc you DID wake him up at like two in the morning) but he is greatfull for all of your gifts :]

tommy:

-> bro i hc that this fucker LOVES shiny shit

-> (i mean, so do i but that's besides the point)

-> n e ways

-> you give him a shiny rock? here. have a cool stick in return.

-> raccoons are crazy man. he (like you) has a collection of tiny little things too. sometimes you trade. bc that's friendship <3

-> it doesn't matter when, bc he will always be awake when you want to give him something. he will 9 times out of 10 give you soethibg in return

-> if you wear jewelry, then he probably gave it to you :]

ranboo:

-> for some reason, he's also always awake whenever you give him gifts.

-> and he, like tubbo, aslo has a set place to put all of your gifts

-> he even writes about it down in his memory book so he doesn't forget about it <3

-> ranboo thinks all the little rocks you find and decide to give him are vv cool.

-> you: hey ranboo!! look at this cool rock i found!!

-> ranboo: that is so very cool and/or poggers can i please have it

-> another shiny stuff lover <3

-> bc i hc that mr. boo's chaarcter wears earrings and stuff, he decides to take one of the cool rocks you gave him and turn it into one!

-> you point it out and he just smiles and says: ye i know :) i did it bc your cool :)

-> and then you just die from embaressment bc who wouldn't if that happened

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

bonus michael thing bc i actually really like that idea:

you lift yourself a little further on the roof and knock on the window, opening it not long after.

"michael!" you whisper-shout. "michael! are you there?"

a small little zombie piglin pops his face into your view.

"hey, buddy! come here!"

he waddles closer to the window, chicken plushie in hand. a little snort makes it out of his mouth when he stops.

placing your arms on the window sill, you begin speaking. "alright, so i have a plan. do you wanna go out for a bit?"

the piglin nods his head eagerly.

you smile. "alright cool. i just need you to climb out this window and then we'll go."

michael looks at you wearily, clutching his plush a little tighter.

"don't worry, mike. it'll be fine. i'll catch you if you fall." you tell him reassuringly.

your ears twitch, picking up some noise from downstairs.

he walks over slowly, still holding onto his plush. carefully, he climbs out the window. picking him up, you slide a note into the room, shut the window, and slide down the roof, landing on the ground without a problem.

you hear a door open from inside and begin walking away, michael squealing excitedly in your arms. it's not long before you hear someone open the window. with a smile, you turn around and wave.

"[y/n]! what the-"

tubbo cuts him off. "-fuck!"

"don't worry guys i'll make sure to bring him back!"

"oh thank god-"

"eventually!"

"[y/n]!"

you mock a salute. "see you later guys!"

and then you run off.

#saturn.writes #platonic bench trio x reader #bench trio x reader #platonic ranboo x reader #ranboo x reader #platonic tubbo x reader #tubbo x reader #platonic tommy x reader #tommyinnit x reader #dsmp x reader #platonic dsmp x reader

[a-is-for-abel]

"“I’m moving.” He froze, glancing up at his friend. The other boy’s eyes were gleaming with suppressed sobs, breath hitching and jaw clenched. “Mom got a job in another state and we’re moving in a month.”

Inspired by this prompt by @givethispromptatry

Sand and shells crunched under the belly of the kayak as it ran aground. With a wobble and a curse he tumbled into the water, paddle floating away from him and kayak shooting off in the opposite direction.

"Fuck."

He scrambled to collect both, tossing the paddle up onto the beach and grabbing the handle at the bow of the kayak to tow it onto shore.

"You're late."

He rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder to see Warren in all his cut-offs and sandals glory. "And you're early."

Warren crossed his arms. "I'm literally the most on time, dude."

"Whatever, just-- Help me grab the stuff."

He popped open the watertight chamber in front of the seat and reached into the belly of the kayak, all while Warren struggled to pull the backpack out from under the cage of bungee cords at the front.

"Just unhook them, dude," he said, his cellphone and two unopened cream sodas finally in hand.

"Don't tell me how to do it."

"It's not going to--"

"Shit!" Warren yelped, recoiling and clutching his hand.

"Told you."

Warren flicked him off, but turned to do what he said anyway.

"Come on, suns gonna start setting soon." He grabbed his backpack from Warren and stuffed the drinks and his phone inside.

"What? Afraid of some gators?"

"No," he said. "Rather a gator than my dad."

Warren grimaced. "He still got you on that curfew?"

"Yup."

He picked his way through the mangrove thicket that cut the beach off from the rest of the spoil island. The roots of the black mangroves jutted up like fingers through the sand and the stilts of the red mangroves tried their best to snag his feet as he ducked under the sprawling web of an orb weaver hidden in their midst. Thankfully, it cleared out past the initial wall of foliage, becoming more barren with only the occasional thicket.

He remembered when his dad had led them through here the first time and explained that the mangroves kept the spoil islands standing. That when hurricanes and storms threatened to wash them away, their roots would act like a little army, keeping off any barrage and harboring whatever took up shelter under them.

He frowned. His dad and him hadn't come out here since--

"Fuck, fuck, fu--" Warren sputtered behind him, high-pitched.

"Web?" he asked, glancing back to see Warren flinching away from a tree.

"Yeah, fuck--" Warren brushed his arms off frantically and patted at his hair. "Fucking spiders all over the fucking place, man. They call it Mosquito Lagoon, but it really should be spider god damn la-- Fuck!"

"Nice one, ‘spider god damn la-fuck’ really has a special sort of ring to it."

Warren shot him a glare and dusted off his shoulders and the front of his shirt with quick flicks. "You owe me for psychological damages..."

"Come on, we used to come out here all the time."

"When I was like ten! And with your dad!" Warren cowered away from another web that sprawled from a lone tree. "And I didn't have as much free real estate for a spider to like, you know-- Crawl all over me or whatever."

"Free real estate?"

"Yeah, you know the whole--" Warren gestured vaguely. "The meme."

"God, please stop," he groaned. "That shits like, what, twenty-seventeen? That's like ancient history, man."

"It's a classic."

"Sure," he muttered. "A classic."

"Whatever, man, you're just not cultured."

He scoffed. "That's definitely it."

The other end of the island unfolded into a drop-off, all coquina and shells packed tightly together and built up into a mound that cut off abruptly into nothing. It was the highest point of the island-- of most of the spoils out here honestly-- even though it's small cliff had been eaten away and eroded over time, shrinking and shifting as the island shrank with the waves.

Dropping his backpack, he sat and dangled his legs over the edge, shoes knocking back against the coquina with a scratchy rasp. Warren plopped down beside him, keeping his legs folded and away from the plunge. Not that it was much of a sheer cliff. Only about eight feet down at the most, but enough that it felt like a lot. Compared to the average of three feet below sea level for the rest of the mainland; eight feet felt pretty fucking huge.

The tide lapped at the base of the island, the water hissing and coiling, writhing and alive where it squirmed through the holes bored through the coquina face and back out with a soft crackle. Crabs, tiny and mottled, darted in and around the rocks and he could see finger mullet, their scales flashing as they turned and twisted with the waves.

"You tied up your kayak, right?" Warren asked.

"Naw, but it should be fine. I pulled it up pretty far."

"I'm not sharing if you get stuck out here."

He frowned, shooting Warren his best puppy dog eyes. "You'd leave me out here?"

"Yes."

He chuckled. "Fair."

Seagulls drifted in lazy circles far overhead, the occasional cry working its way down to them as the birds banked with the wind, following the gusts up to where they could catch a glimpse of a meal beneath the water. One wheeled down in a sudden arc, wings folded close to its side as it plummeted, beak first, into the water with a snap and then back out with a spray.

"Man, tough luck..." Warren said. "Hate whenever they miss. Makes me feel kinda bad."

"They're just gonna go do what the rest do and steal some fries at the jetty once they realize it's easier than doing this."

"Yeah, but it's like-- I don't know, man. Just wish he'd get a win."

"You don't even know him!"

"I feel like we have a connection." Warren pointed at where the seagull had gone back to patrolling the waters. "Me and seagull number one thousand and three, we're like this--" He crossed his fingers.

"Shut up," he snorted.

They watched the seagull try again and fail.

Warren started up a running commentary after the third attempt, cupping a hand over his mouth to imitate the slight grain of a sports announcer's microphone as he dramatized the whole thing. When the seagull finally managed to snag a fish Warren cheered, arms thrown up in a touchdown motion that he copied with a grin.

"Hell yeah, dude!" Warren high-fived him.

"Where's all that enthusiasm for when you're at my games?" he asked.

"Come on, dude, you know I always cheer the loudest. You're just too far out on the field to hear me."

"I'm sure that's what it is."

"Whatever, man-- What'd you bring anyway?" Warren grabbed his backpack and began rummaging through it. "Oh shit! Gummy bears, dude! And the good kind, hell yeah!"

"Yeah, grabbed them before I came here. That's why I was late, idiot."

Warren tore open the package. "Crimes forgiven, man. This is worth it."

"Give me that--" He pulled his backpack out of Warren's lap. "I also got some soda, but I guess all you care about is your precious little bears."

"Naw, naw-- Hand that over."

"Rude much?"

"What? You want me to kiss you on the lips for it first, bro?"

He laughed. "Now, that would be the polite thing to do."

Warren puckered his lips at him and then snatched the soda. "Fuck off."

"Not even a little kiss?" he teased.

"You dragged me out to spider-fuck-nowhere, while it's ass fucking hot out and where it smells like rotting fish taint-- Just to watch the fucking sunset, when we could have sat on my roof and done the exact same thing-- You expect a kiss for that?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Bro code."

Warren snorted. "Hand me a bottle opener, dip shit."

He popped open his own bottle and passed it over to Warren, who struggled for a moment before finally getting it with a triumphant 'whoop'. The mixture of saccharine flavored soda and the slight rotting stench of algae, and whatever else the lagoon had to offer, wasn't exactly pleasant, but it wasn't terrible. It was familiar.

It was homely in it's off kilter sort of way.

"So, why'd you bring me out here anyways?" Warren asked.

He sighed and kicked his heel back against the coquina. "I’m moving.”

Warren sucked in sharply and he glanced over at him.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the water below his feet. "Dad got a job in another state and we’re moving in a month.”

"Dude…"

"I didn't know how to tell you. I just--"

"Is that why you decided it'd be a good idea to sneak out and go to that dumb party with me?" Warren asked, frowning.

"I figured it would be one of the last chances I had to do something fun, you know. Here. Before I just-- Leave all this shit forever. I mean, we're moving to fucking Ohio, man. Where the fuck am I gonna find a party on an island out there?"

"Right…"

"And look, fuck my dad--"

"Jake--"

"No, fuck him-- He didn't even--" he huffed. "Things were looking up, man. Varsity lacrosse in sophomore year, that's huge, dude. And I wasn't just the fucking loser kid in the back of class anymore and he just--"

"Works rough here, dude..." Warren cut him off, sighing. "Space programs taking a shit. Whole island's taking a shit, really. Plenty of people left the first time NASA tanked, remember? It's just… it happens, man."

"So, you're just fine with it then?" he asked, brows furrowing. "We're never going-- I'm never going to see you again and you're just okay with that?"

"It's not forever!" Warren said, throwing out his hands. "There's planes, man! It's the twenty first fucking century. We got phones, dude. We'll stay in touch."

He grit his teeth and looked down.

"Jake, bro. C'mon-- Look at me."

He met Warren's eyes.

"It's gonna be okay, dude." Warren said, smile wide, and he could see the little falter at the edges, but he didn't call him on it. "Look--" Warren held up his bottle. "We'll cheers on it."

"Cheers on what?"

"To staying in touch, to meeting up in the future. To staying friends and all that, I don't know."

"To you finally getting a boyfriend?"

"Actually, you know what, I'm not going to miss you at all."

"Come on--" he grinned, nudging Warren with his shoulder. "You'll miss me."

"Yeah," Warren chuckled, looking down with a small smile. "I will..."

His fingers tightened around the glass bottle in his hand, bottom lip threatening to worry between his teeth. "Look, let's do your dumb cheers thing before it gets too sentimental or whatever."

Warren sighed, seeming to shake himself off before raising his soda bottle above his head and towards the slowly setting sun. "To us."

"To us?" He wrinkled his nose. "Isn't that kinda cheesy?"

"Just shut up and do it."

"Fine..." he grumbled with a grin, raising his bottle to clink against Warren's. "To us."

--

//photo credit// me and my phone c. 2020 //

#writeblr #writing community #creative writing #fiction #prompt fill #prose #writers on tumblr #short story #writing #my writing #original work #sorry for the cursing #miss the spoil islands and the lagoon #Florida

[tanzaniiite]

ROAD TRIP • SEIJOH THIRD YEARS

requests: OPEN

warnings: cursing & stupid high school antics

word count: 2.2k

a/n: this idea has been on my noggin for so long omg, enjoy!

please reblog and reply, engagement is both fun & important ✨

[not edited]

this was fun, should i do more fics like this?

“Ugh, are we there yet?”

Oikawa whined looking out the window with a forlorn look as if he was in a music video. You glanced at Iwaizumi, who was at the wheel, snickering slightly as you saw his eye twitch in annoyance. The five of you decided to take a road trip, sort of like a last hurrah, for your last year of high school.

This originally started as a small trip that was planned on senior ditch day but Matsun and Makki wanted to do a road trip. And so, senior ditch day morphed into senior ditch weekend. Of course, none of your parents approved this, so you guys were in for an earful when you returned. But as Hanamaki stated, when you got a screaming voicemail from your guardian, “Live in the moment, worry about that later”. And despite that being terrible advice, you listened anyway.

The destination of your little road trip is Tokyo which was a five to six hour drive. Some might say that’s not too long but traveling with Oikawa it feels like an eternity. He was already complaining. That was mainly because he was upset that you got shotgun and he didn’t. Originally you planned on sitting in the back with the disaster duo but Hajime insisted you sit in the front with him. Something about you being the most tolerable. Iwaizumi was obviously the driver because he’s the most responsible out of you five. It’s weird to think you guys just planned this trip just a week prior.

“So what are we doing for senior ditch day?”

You asked setting your tray down and sitting in between Matsukawa and Hanamaki. Issei just scoffed lightly, “I dunno what you’re doing but I’m sleeping” He answered. Takahiro laughed in agreement. “Probably practicing” Tooru replied. You pouted at their lame responses, “Hajime please tell me you have better plans than these losers” You pleaded. Iwaizumi looked up from his notes, “Uh, I don’t know, I’m probably going to come to school” He shrugged ignoring your disgusted face.

“I know y’all are not serious. This is the last year we’re going to be together like this, we should do something memorable”

You declared crossing your arms over your chest glaring at your friends. “Ew, you sound like Oikawa, getting all sentimental and shit” Makki quipped popping a french fry in his mouth. You stuck your tongue out at him playfully. Oikawa hummed, “I mean they do have a point, let’s do something we’ll remember for years to come”. “Whatever, I guess I’m down” Matsukawa added rolling his eyes. The four of you looked at Iwaizumi, who mentally checked out of the conservation a while ago, waiting for his answer. “Count me out, my parents will kill me if I skipped school” He responded, causing the lot of you to groan. “Ugh, can you not be an upstanding student for like two seconds” You huffed leaning your head in your hand. Now the brunette looked up, “You guys know how my parents are, especially you Shittykawa” He stated, pointing his pencil at the setter. “Yeah yeah, we know how your parents are. Y/n’s parents are just as bad” Issei voiced.

You couldn’t help but internally groan, you remember how your guardians reacted when you brought the four boys to your house. “Don’t remind me. Senior Ditch Day is on a Friday, we barely do anything as is since it’s the end of the year” You said, “plus, you’re the only one of us that drives decently” You stated mustering up your best puppy dog eyes. Hajime looked at you before answering, “Fine, but if I get in trouble. You guys will be the ones talking to my parents”. And from there, the planning commenced.

Currently, you guys were only an hour out of Miyagi. Issei was already knocked out, Hanamaki was on his phone and Oikawa was sulking as per usual. “If you ask me if we’re there yet, one more time, I’ll have Makki push you out the car” He threatened his eyes never leaving the road. “Makki wouldn’t do that to me” Tooru claimed which caused ‘Hiro to snort. “Shut up, you know I will” He stated not even bothering to look up from his phone. Oikawa let out a dramatic gasp, “But we’re going 85 miles an hour on a highway!” He exclaimed. “Did I stutter?” Takahiro mumbled, still not paying any attention to his captain’s dramatics.

This was going to be a long four hours.

You woke up leaning against something super warm, you opened your eyes taking in your surroundings. You weren’t in the front anymore, from what you could see, it looked like Oikawa got his wish of riding shotgun. You sat up rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “Oh, good morning sleeping beauty” Oikawa teased. You were too sleepy and disoriented to come up with a witty comeback.

“Why.. why is Issei driving?”

That’s when you noticed Iwaizumi was the warm surface you were leaning against moments before. “I got tired of driving, we stopped at a gas station and switched places” Hajime explained noticing your confused face, “and you were sleeping so we moved you to the back”. You realized that not only were you leaning against Iwa but your legs were propped up on Makki’s lap. You nodded slightly, still tired despite waking up from a nap. “We spoil them rotten, don’t we?” ‘Hiro commented pinching your thigh causing you to whine slightly. “Shut up” You mumbled leaning into Iwaizumi’s side once again making him chuckle. Matsukawa looked at you through the rearview mirror,

“That’s right, Y/n gets all grumpy when they’re tired”

“Issei… focus on not crashing the car, not on me”

Oikawa let out a low whistle, “Woah, catty much?” He asked rhetorically laughing slightly. You rolled your eyes, “Whatever, how much farther?” You asked closing your eyes. Hajime glanced at his phone, “Two more hours” He replied. Tooru made a choked noise before turning around to face his childhood best friend. “Uh! They ask you if we’re there and get an answer, but when I ask, I get threatened?!” The brunette cried his eyebrows furrowing. The ace rolled his eyes, “Yeah, cause they’re not fucking annoying about it” He retorted. You pointed at Oikawa while laughing at his shocked face causing him to pout and crossed his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Uh oh, I think it’s Oikawa’s turn for a nap” Makki joked. Matsun hummed in agreement, “Yup, Y/n gets grumpy and Oikawa gets bratty” He laughed.

“Ugh whatever, at least I don’t snore like a chainsaw”

“Says the man who can’t sleep in any other position besides fetal”

“Dude shut up! It’s comfortable!”

Iwaizumi sighed, already knowing this petty argument wouldn’t end anytime soon. He looked down at you, “Who are you messaging?” Hajime inquired, peering at your phone. “No one, just some first years in my DMs” You hummed noncommittally. “You still leading those poor kids on?” Hanamaki asked. Glancing at Makki you pursed your lips, “I’m not leading them on… I’m just entertaining the antics” You replied smiling innocently and batting your eyelashes. “Yo, remember when that one first year confessed to you in the middle of lunch?” Issei asked slowing at a red light. You sat up suddenly, “Oh my god yes! That was so embarrassing!” You exclaimed. “You were embarrassed? Imagine the kid when you rejected him” Iwaizumi countered raising an eyebrow. “The second-hand embarrassment was strong on that one” Takahiro agreed, “Y/n’s a heartbreaker,” He said shaking his head.

You gasped, “I’m not! I’m just not interested in people like three years younger than me” You explained defending yourself. “Well, your choices are limited, since all the people in our grade are scared of us for whatever reason” Tooru stated with his eyes closed and head leaning on the window, looking like he would clonk out soon. “Yeah cause y’all are intimidating as fuck” You claimed. Issei chuckled, “Mm, yeah we kinda are” He admitted. “If they really liked you, they wouldn’t be scared to confess” Hajime shrugged. You smiled widely, “Ok king! My fault” You laughed giving him a high five. “Wait but if we’re so intimidating how come girls are always throwing their panties at Oikawa” Hanamaki questioned.

“Cause he’s not the intimidating one, it’s mainly Iwa and Matsun”

“Matsun is not intimidating, he looks out of it half of the time”

“Not out of it, more like zooted”

You quipped, laughing when Issei playfully glared at you through the rearview mirror. “Bro, remember when Kindaichi found out we were going on this trip and asked to come?” Takahiro laughed. “Stop! Y’all are so mean to him” You said kicking Makki slightly with your foot. Matsukawa snorted, “No cause what did he expect us to say, “Sure buddy you can come!” Like dude nooo,” He mocked laughing loudly. You bit your lip in an effort to not laugh, “Stop this Kindaichi slander at once” You demanded holding back your own giggles. “Okay Y/n, are you saying that you would’ve said yes if he asked you?” The wing spiker inquired giving you a look. “Well.. no—” You started. “Exactly! You’re just as bad as us” Issei interjected.

“No, I am not! You two literally looked at each other and busted out laughing, you didn’t even answer the poor boy”

“Sorry… it was funny”

“That shit was hilarious”

Hajime cleared his throat, “Is Trashykawa sleeping? Haven’t heard him talk in a while” He asked drawing shapes into your shoulder absentmindedly. Matsun glanced at his friend who was definitely passed out against the window. “Yeah, he’s gone” The middle blocker responded.

“Should we draw on his face?”

…

“Oh absolutely”

The car was fairly silent now, you guys were nearing the end of your road trip and it was later in the day. The sky was littered with reds and oranges as the sun started its daily routine. The sunset was bold, radiant, and just plain mesmerizing, you couldn’t help but stare in awe. You sighed inwardly, “I’m gonna miss you guys” You uttered looking out the window. Your four guy friends looked at each other before looking at you. Iwaizumi spoke up first, “What’s there to miss? We’re not going anywhere” He asked. “I know that but who knows when the next time we’ll do something like this?” You whispered refusing to look at them because you knew you would start crying if you did. Hanamaki nudged your foot with his hand, “Y/n stop being such a baby, we’ll still see each other—” He started before you interrupted.

“That’s not the point stupid. We’re all going our own separate ways. Iwaizumi’s going to school in America, Oikawa’s going to fucking Argentina, and we’re all going to different colleges. This sucks ass, I finally have a group of friends I love and now I have to leave them—”

“Hey, what did we just say? We’re not going anywhere. So what if we’re going down different paths? Holidays exist Y/n, you think Iwaizumi and Oikawa are gonna stay in America and Argentina all year round? Plus me and Makki’s colleges are not that far from yours, I could probably walk if I wanted to. Now stop sulking, you’re bringing down the mood”

Issei stated his eyes never once drifting from the road. You sniffed and leaned into Hajime’s side more, “Jeez, sorry” You mumbled playing with your fingers. If the car wasn’t quiet before, it sure was now. No one knew what to say, it seemed too early to make a joke about it and it was a conversation none of you were ready to have. But despite not being ready, Oikawa still voiced his opinion nevertheless,

“Well would you look at that, Y/n really does love us. And I thought you hated me”

You snorted, “I do hate you” You teased making a face at him which he gladly returned. But his demeanor suddenly became serious,

“Adding on to what Mattsun said, we’re not leaving forever Y/n. Graduation is like three months away, we still have time to hang out plus we have the summer so there’s that. I know you love us and can’t possibly live without us but I think you’ll manage”

You blinked in response to Oikawa’s little spiel, “You are so corny” You huffed looking down so he wouldn’t notice the small tears in your eyes.

“Ah! So when I do it it’s corny, what about that whole pitch Matsun did?!”

“Hey, I wasn’t corny. I was being real”

“Please, as if, you were just being mean”

“It’s called tough love, it isn’t made for softies”

Watching the two of them go back and forth once again was entertaining. And when Makki and Iwaizumi joined in, it was just one hundred times better. But seeing your best friends interact with one another just made you realize how much you love them. And although this may be your guy’s last high school adventure, it wasn’t going to your last endeavor with this crazy bunch. You smiled slightly to yourself,

“Man, I really do love you guys”

tanzaniiite © 2021 — all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or copy. do not plagiarize. thank you.

#tanz writes 【📖】 #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fandom #hq #hq anime #haikyuu anime #hq fandom #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu matsukawa #haikyuu hanamaki #iwaizumi hajime x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #hanamaki takahiro x reader #hanamaki x reader #matsukawa x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #aoba josai x reader #iwaizumi imagine #matsukawa imagines #hanamaki imagines #oikawa imagine #seijoh third years #hq smau #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu scenarios

[vintagedolan]

when koa gets in, is grayson rude to her ?? what’s his reaction upon seeing her ?

since this do be a concept train, I want to know what exactly Koa feels towards the twins. Does she know them? Des she know about them? I just know that initial meeting is going to be TENSE

(also angry Grayson is hot)

two: character profile

masterlist | request the next concept!

It only took Koa two days to unpack. She had 2 suitcases of clothes and personal belongings, and $300 worth of a haul from target down the street, which included only a few essentials. 

She was lucky enough to have found a three person apartment with one vacancy, which came with the advantage of it already being mostly furnished. The air mattress she bought would have to do in her room for now - she’d spent most her money on a desk.

Writers write, they don’t sleep anyways. 

She met her roommates, Harlow and Gabby. Harlow was from Kentucky, which Koa only knew from the KFC on the island back home. But she was sweet and friendly, and willing to help out wherever she could. She even gave Koa a ride to target, let her fill up the back of her honda with all of her purchases.

Gabby was born and raised in LA. And it was obvious. Her attitude, her superiority and her general lack of regard for anyone other than herself had Koa ready to call her out in the first day, but she held back, knowing she was in for the long haul. 

But that attitude made her even more nervous for her meeting at 11am the third day, in Encino California. Just the fact that she’d been given a gate code was enough to put a pit in her stomach. She wondered how stupid she would look, walking up to it instead of driving.

Harlow helped her find the right bus route, and it took a minute. And by a minute, she meant a fucking hour to plan it out, and a 30 minute bus ride to get close enough to the Dolan’s house to make the 20 minute walk the rest of the way. She missed the Hawaiian breeze, the trade winds coming in off the ocean to stave off the beating sun as she made the journey with her backpack hanging off one of her shoulders up all of the hills of the neighborhood.

By the time she made it to the house, there was sweat rolling down her back, soaking her shirt and making her question every life decision she’d made to get herself there. 

She typed in the code, and as soon as she walked through the gate her blood was boiling.

Five cars. There were five cars in the driveway, parked in two neat rows. The Tesla caught her eye first, plugged into its own charger in the garage.

She knew they had money. But fucking hell. The house itself was more subtle, didn’t scream rich in her face in twelve languages - from the outside anyways. 

It took her a moment to settle herself, to put a smile on her face. The Dolans, it seemed, where the type of people who showed up at the shave ice stand in Hawaii on vacation - not the ones who worked it.

But she’d known that. And she tried to remind herself of exactly how their wealth was going to work in her favor, for the sales of ‘their’ book, which would increase her cut. And so, she smoothed her frizzy hair as best she could and went up to the door.

She didn’t have to knock. Instead, the door swung open, a bright young woman standing there with a welcoming smile. 

“Koa?”

“That’s me.”

“Hi! I’m Adele, the twins assistant.”

Koa swallowed. Of course. Of course they had an assistant. Why wouldn’t they. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“Come on in, it’s hot out there.” Adele stepped to the side, revealing the interior of the house.

It was subtle. If Koa were to write it, she’d describe the warmth. It radiated from multiple centers - the neutral woods, the simple decorations, the dark appliances, the fireplace on the far wall, and the very tall, smiling man with a tattoo sleeve by the door. 

In the next paragraph, she’d talk about the cold. It came from one place, one specific spot in the living room. His back was half turned away, but his stiffness, his annoyance, radiated off his shoulders with less effort than it took him to breathe. 

Koa swallowed hard again.

“Hey, I’m Ethan. It’s nice to finally put a face with the writing.” His voice was as genuine as his smile, which he tried to make wide enough for the two of them it seemed. 

By process of elimination, she knew it was Grayson who stood up rather slowly and made his way over.

“I’m Grayson. Nice to meet you.” His voice was flatter than the mantle behind him. Koa smiled anyways.

They each held out a hand, and she prayed her palm wasn’t sweaty from her walk when she shook them one by one. 

Ethan pulled out a chair for her at the island, metal legs groaning against the hardwood.

“You want a drink?”

“Yeah, that’d be great actually. Thanks.” The formality tasted sour on her tongue. She told herself she wasn’t going to do this, wasn’t going to make herself out to be someone more professional than she really was.

But Grayson had her on edge. Even when Ethan sat down in the chair beside her with two glasses of water, Grayson stood tall on the other side of the island, arms crossed and strong brow furrowed. 

Silence filled the space with emptiness, and Koa drank her water, her rings tinkling against her glass. 

“So-” Ethan started, finally breaking the tension. “This meeting isn’t anything like crazy formal, we just kinda wanted to touch base with you, get to know you a bit and figure out exactly how we’re gonna do this.”

“Yeah, no that’s great. I’m down for that, that’s a good idea.”

“We’ve never even thought about writing a book really, so we’re kinda at your mercy.” Ethan’s laugh wasn’t loud enough to cover Grayson’s scoff. Koa watched him for a moment, analyzed him. He seemed tense, and angry, and sad all at once somehow. The tension in his jaw was sharp, but there was a fear in there somewhere that she could sense. He caught her eye, and she turned back to Ethan.

“Well, this is gonna be new for all of us I think. The thing about this is I’m not writing as me, I’m writing as you two. It’s from your perspective, it’s what you want to say. I’m just here to help you say it. So yeah, I’ll help guide you all in what you want in there and how to arrange it to get people hooked and into it, but-”

“Do you usually ghost write stuff for people?” Grayson leaned against the counter, shoulder broad and wide. Intimidating. The tattoos that peaked out from under the short sleeve of his shirt were delicate lines. Gentle. She looked at those instead when she spoke.

“Uh, no. This is my first time doing it formally.”

“So what do you write then.”

“My specialty is fiction. Novels.”

“Great. Fucking fantastic.” To Koa’s amazement, Grayson was laughing. Running his hands over his face and up through his long hair. Callous. 

“I’m sorry, is writing novels a bad thing?”

“No. But I’m not a character you get to make however you want.” He met her eyes then, the green of them so dark they looked brown as he stared at her. “I’m a person.”

“I figured that much out for myself. If you have an issue, I’m all ears.”

Even she was impressed with how steady her voice was. She clasped her hands lightly together and rested them on the island, the way white business men always did in movies, and stared him down. 

“Full disclosure, the book was more my idea, less Grayson’s,” Ethan chimed in.

“All Ethan’s, none of mine,” Grayson corrected. “Because I know how this shit goes. You’re gonna twist whatever you need to get a story together, make us tell shit we don’t want to tell and put it out for the world to read just to get your bag. And I don’t want any part of it.” 

It was Koa’s turn to laugh. “Well buddy, you’re giving me plenty of content to work with if I’m supposed to be building a character profile on you or whatever the fuck it is you think I’m here to do.”

“Uh-” Ethan barely got the syllable out.

“You know, most people would kill for this. This book will be everywhere, and you have a chance to tell the world something and actually have them hear it. Don’t throw that away so quick.”

Something in Grayson’s face changed, and it made her want to pull her words back out of the air. 

“Yeah, well I’m pretty fucking sure I’ve given the world enough of myself, but thanks for the offer.” 

With that, Grayson turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen.

“Bro-” Ethan called out.

“It’s fine,” Koa muttered. 

“I’m sorry, really. He’s kinda going through it right now, there’s been a lot of stuff going on and he’s just worried. I’ll talk to him, we’ll figure out how to make this work.”

“Right.”

Ethan frowned. “Koa, I’m serious. I really liked your stuff, and I know you can write a kick ass book for us. I want you to, and he will too, I just gotta get him to get his head out of his ass.”

“Good luck with that one,” Koa chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m gonna go.”

“Okay. I’ll text you and we can figure out another time to figure out the details.”

“Sounds good. I’ll brainstorm some stuff.”

“Sick. Sorry, again, for all that. Drive safe.”

Koa put her backpack over her shoulder and climbed out of the chair, chugging the rest of the water in her glass, knowing she’d need it for her walk to the bus stop.

“Yeah. See you later Ethan. Like I said; good luck.”

#hydrograyson #ask #hiraeth

[missinghan]

to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters. 

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it. 

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side. 

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.” 

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.” 

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing. 

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes. 

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications. 

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids). 

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed. 

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?” 

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home. 

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much. 

The problem is: he only stares at you that way. 

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much. 

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs. 

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him. 

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves. 

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low. 

Second side note: no one ever listens. 

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully. 

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break. 

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist. 

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?” 

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically. 

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset. 

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic. 

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine. 

“You need me, we’re connected.” 

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle. 

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly. 

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook. 

three. 

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions. 

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months. 

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily. 

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day. 

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being. 

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners. 

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?” 

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified. 

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior. 

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again. 

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin. 

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head. 

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while. 

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you. 

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that. 

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now. 

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night. 

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.” 

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner. 

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.” 

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth. 

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two. 

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way. 

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.” 

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him. 

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated. 

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class. 

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down. 

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above. 

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face. 

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy. 

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride. 

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks. 

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters. 

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that. 

five. 

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know. 

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people. 

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes. 

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they’re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” 

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy. 

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction. 

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again. 

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation. 

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around. 

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.” 

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile. 

Oh, I’m fucking livid. 

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester. 

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor. 

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes. 

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea. 

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast. 

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin. 

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid. 

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

 “AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.” 

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago. 

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one. 

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain. 

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg. 

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?” 

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically. 

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do. 

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty. 

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath. 

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..” 

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops. 

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person. 

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders. 

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her. 

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors. 

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?” 

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all. 

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead. 

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already. 

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard. 

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain. 

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite. 

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school. 

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner. 

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?” 

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off. 

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent. 

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest. 

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!” 

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things. 

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage. 

Felix doesn’t even drink. 

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out. 

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically. 

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice. 

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously. 

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively. 

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water. 

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now. 

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain. 

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you. 

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups. 

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate. 

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing. 

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice. 

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended. 

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear. 

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall. 

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned. 

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically. 

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately. 

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning. 

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?” 

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever. 

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while. 

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic. 

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all. 

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow. 

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call. 

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend. 

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home. 

#skzwritersclub #inkidz #stayshub #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #lee felix #lee felix scenarios #lee felix imagines #lee felix fluff #felix scenarios #felix imagines #bang chan fanfic #lee minho imagines #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung fluff #kim Seungmin #yang jeongin #felix x reader #felix x you #skz high school au

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU, Pt. 2 (Pt. 1, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5)

-----

Peter will admit that during he took an extended moment during his journey home to grieve the loss of his free afternoon, and indeed the impending headaches.

And the rest of his future, if he was honest.

Not that Peter was prone to melancholy by any means, but with this assignment his fate was officially sealed, there was no misunderstanding. He was going to fail this assignment. He was going to, for the first time in his academic career, be forced to submit garbage of a caliber worthy of Tony Stark. It will forever be a black mark on his academic record.

No respectable college is going to accept him after this. In fact, he might as well drop out of school now and hit up Mr Delmar for a job. All of his prep for his MIT application is as good as useless after this. Extracurriculars? Goodbye.

Because it’s confirmed.

He’s doomed.

Swaying with the motions of the train, Peter types a text to Ned, the only person who might provide him with some much needed sympathy.

>  I’m doomed >  paired w/stark for an assignment lollllllllll.  >  help

Maybe Peter could trade with Ned. Maybe he could plead with their teacher, for honest fear of his life and scholastic integrity. He wasn’t even exaggerating. In no known iteration of this universe could Peter amicably work with Tony Stark. It would be like Harry Potter sitting down for tea with Voldemort, or Frodo and Sauron chilling with a pint and a pipe in Bag End. 

It was unthinkable. Implausible. Laughable.

And Peter would laugh, were it anyone but him in this situation.

The feeling is unusual. Never had he found reason in his life to truly dislike anybody before, everyone could be redeemed or given the opportunity for penance. Natasha has said more than once that Peter would offer the devil himself a sandwich if he appeared. 

Tony Stark on the other hand? No sandwich for him.

Well, maybe a slice of bread. A stale one.

While he waits for Ned to responds he catches sight of his injured reflection in the train window, which is admittedly pretty gnarly. Even with his hood drawn up, there was a noticeable berth allocated to him in the busy carriage between himself and the other passengers.

< sux. can I have ur lego hogwarts if u die?

> dude :( pity me.

< lol. so, can i?

Peter sighs.

> sure. Look after May for me, bro. delete my internet history.

< deal. godspeed

Pocketing his phone, Peter wonders if it’s too late to take up praying.

---

By the time he’s back in his apartment his mood has managed to swing back up.

Tony Stark is not going to be the arbiter of Peter’s fate. Hell no. He’s smart, he’s creative and hardworking - it isn’t up to anybody but Peter to determine his outcomes. If he has to do the assignment with Stark then he will. And he will work his hardest. 

If he has to do it sharing the credit with Stark, well, Peter knows a concession when he sees one.

No matter how reluctant he is.

But he powers through it, like ripping off a bandaid. It’s fine! He’s a Parker and he’s come this far in life already against ill, Parker-like odds. What was being paired for one assignment with someone who escaped the nearest hellmouth? 

It’ll be fine. 

Probably.

Not letting himself linger on his fears, Peter clears out his previous plans of going on a YouTube spiral and eating sour gummies until his teeth stick, instead utilising the time to get his foot in and and begins prepping for the assignment. Cursory, preliminary research at first, before the inevitable deep dive begins.

Neanderthal, Peter scoffs, mad all over again. Who is Stark to call Peter a neanderthal? He’s second in his class. He’s a straight A student. He likes school.

And as much as he is moderately skilled in, and enjoys JV, it’s not like he received his scholarship to study at Midtown based on his physical prowess.

The graze on his cheek that stings every time he yawns is proof of that.

Stark can eat his entire ass and choke on it, he thinks darkly, as he continues his research. He doesn’t know the first thing about Peter.

The data is sobering as he delves into job listings and statistics of his projected salary in a three year margin. This is really what his teachers earn? Wow. Depressing.

The contrast of expected salary versus the forecast of steep student loans is disheartening further still.

Teaching quietly slips from second to third on his list of ideal occupations.

Turning on a playlist on his phone, Peter continues to compile notes, amassing a truly gargantuan amount of tabs on his browser. His computer, old enough to be on its’ last teeth, whirrs loudly in protest.

It’s not until his room goes dark that he thinks to check the time.

Ah, shit. It’s nearly six.

Peter pauses. Should he tidy up the apartment?

...Nah, no point in breaking a sweat for Stark.

He continues typing. Then he hesitates, fingers suspended in mid-air. 

But what if Stark sees his unfolded laundry out on the dining table and publicly shames him for his old-but-comfortable Bulbasaur themed boxer shorts?

Goddamnit.

---

A quick, cursory clean ensues and leaves a relatively orderly Parker apartment. No freshly laundered underwear is in sight.

Peter wraps up just a few minutes before six. Right on time.

Taking a seat at the now clear dining table Peter drums his fingers on the surface and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

---

He knows when Tony finally arrives when he hears the sound of a car pulling up outside his apartment block. The riffs of a Roxette remix can be heard playing loudly  from the ground to the seventh floor of his apartment, the bass so thunderous it reverberates the windows all the way up to his floor.

Drumming his fingers on the kitchen table, Peter checks the wall clock again. It’s nearly seven.

Tony’s late.

Not that Peter is particularly affected with surprise that Tony is incapable of following basic instructions, but still. Really? Really?

By the time there is a knock on his door, Peter is already before it, his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Every second between Tony pulling up and his ascent to Peter’s floor has him positively fuming. He can’t believe how this day played out. It started with such promise. He had such innocuous, but high hopes.

Clearly, he miscalculated.

Feeling a touch petty, he waits to answer, listening to Stark knock a second and then a third, more insistent time before he rouses enough calm to open the door.

He instantly regrets it when he does. 

Tony’s expression is curious one as he breezes right passed Peter without waiting for further invitation. There’s a smudge of something dark on his brow, his otherwise white undershirt smeared in dark stains.

Peter watches incredulously as the other boy drops his backpack by the door with a thump.

“You’re late.”

He closes the door behind Tony and scowls at the other boys easy posture, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes taking in the apartment.

“I didn’t realise you lived all the way out in fucking Queens. Do you have any idea how bad traffic is at this time of day? Also, your elevator doesn’t work. I just climbed seven flights of stairs, where’s the hospitality?”

“Try earning it.”

The other boy rolls his eyes. “Like it’s worth my time.” He breezes past Peter and slides his leather jacket off his arms, tossing it atop of his backpack in the corner. “Look, I’m here now. Okay? You can unclench now. So, do I get a tour or what?”

“Or what. This wouldn’t have been an issue if we had just started straight after class like I said.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Tony clutches his hands to his heart before gesturing to the room. “I didn’t realise I was interrupting your busy Friday night, Parker. You got a keg and the rest of the meatheads stashed away somewhere?”

Without waiting for a response, Tony wanders around the living room like a curious child in a new play room. His gaze inspects everything all at once, from peering at up close at the wall mounted photos and hovering his grubby hands over the oddments and knick-knacks speckled throughout the space.

Apprehensive, Peter can’t help but shadow him, afraid he just let loose a hurricane in a china shop.

Without asking, Tony picks up May’s old Magic 8-Ball and gives it a good shake. Peter’s fingers itch to reach over and stop him, but stops himself because then that would require actually making direct skin contact the other boy.

Not worth it.

“Cannot predict now. Huh,” Tony says to himself before placing the ball back in the wrong spot. 

They both watch silently as it rolls precariously close to the edge. 

“Anyways,” Tony helps himself to an armchair, lounging back and spreading his legs wide. “I know your long-term memory is probably as defective as the rest of you, so don’t strain yourself recalling that I had other priorities.”

“Like what?”

“Like literally anything that isn’t being around you,” the other boy grins. “Now, are we doing this thing, or did you invite me over so you could bitch at me?”

“I didn’t invite you,” Peter grumbles, swiping his notebook from the dining table before sitting on the sofa, as far away from Stark as possible. Shifting, he takes his phone from his pocket and opens the notes he’d taken earlier.

“So, I cross referenced some websites and current job listings,” Peter scrolls through his research, adjusting his glasses as they slip down his nose. “Assuming you have no savings, we’re looking at an average of sixty-thousand per annum based on my salary alone. The average rent in --”

“-- Uh, why are we assuming I have no savings?”

"Because... we’re being realistic?”

Tony springs to his feet and paces across the living room.

“Well,” he says, gesturing to Peter, “if we’re being realistic, does having no savings also that mean I have no debt -- or are you paying off two student loans on your salary?”

“I don’t --”

“Do we have car loans? Health insurance?”

“Wait, slow your roll, Stark. I haven’t yet --”

“-- Of course you haven’t. I mean really, Parker, do you ever think ahead? You should try it, we do have a baby on the way, you know.” Tony clicks his fingers and points at Peter. “Oh, names! I want to call it Molly.”

“As in the drug?” 

“No, as in Ringwald. Anyhoo, seeing as only one of us has the intellectual capacity to construct a budget,” Tony gestures to himself, “that would be me, consider maybe that I spent my savings paying off my student loans and bought a car for me and Miss Molly, leaving you with just your own stagnant debt. Happy?”

“Thrilled,” he says through clenched teeth, feeling utterly steamrolled. “But we’re not calling the baby Molly.”

“Yes, we are. Think of all the great nicknames. Hey wait,” Tony pauses in his pacing, “are your parents going to be home soon?”

It was in that moment Peters world narrows down to one, botched cosmic joke.

Turning his gaze heavenwards, Peter prays silently for mercy. What did he do to deserve this. This is all his bad karma come at once. This is the bad place.

“Ah, no,” he replies, eyes widening. “No, my parents are not going to be home soon.”

“Cool. Lucky you.”

Oblivious to Peter’s existential turmoil, Tony resumes his patrol through the living room, picking up a frame on the mantle. It houses an old photo of Ben, May and a young, bespectacled Peter. 

It is one of the more embarrassing immortalisations of his younger self, eleven-years old and grinning widely, bearing his silver braces to the camera as he holds up a science fair trophy, curls wild and untamed.

Oh god. That was exactly what Peter needed on this unholy day - Tony Stark in his living room, witnessing Peter in his prepubescent glory. 

Quick, create a diversion.

“So, as I was saying,” he says loudly, “rent is reasonably affordable with a sixty-thousand budget in --”

“Who’s the babe?” Tony points to a younger Aunt May in the photo.

Peter gets to his feet and removes the frame from Tony’s grasp. He glowers as he places it back on the mantle. 

“No one you would have a chance with. Can you stay focused? Like, are you physically capable of it?”

“Okay, calm down,” Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “You’ve got a lot of anger for someone so vertically challenged, you know that, shortstack?” 

“Focus, dumbass.”

“I’m focused! Let’s see, we’ve established that I am excellent at managing my money. You have a shitty job and a shitty salary, and apparently my imaginary future self has terrible taste in men. So. Have I got that right? Where are we living?”

“Queens. LIC has some one bed, one baths that could be affordable.”

“Uh, rewind. Going to have to eighty-six that - I am not living in Queens.”

Peter stares at him.

Tony rubs his hands over his face and sighs. “Fine, whatever. But I want a Pontiac Firebird in this imaginary life if I have to deal with you.”

“For someone so keen on getting away you’re doing your best to prolong this experience. It’s literally painful.”

“Well, I just like to see you get all riled up, Princess,” Tony grins, leaning back against the mantle and folding his arms over his chest. “You have this vein that bulges on your forehead when you’re mad. Makes you look like a pitbull.”

Peter swallows the particularly acidic retort sitting on his tongue and tries not to let Tony’s words sting. Be the bigger man, Ben used to say. As difficult as it is to channel even a modicum of the mans’ eternal patience, Peter takes a deep breath and reminds himself to stay focused. The less he gets sidetracked by Tony’s fuckery, the sooner it’s over.

He mentions the next part with unease. 

“...Miss Ahn said that we need references and should do field research. Speak to realtors. Ask people who have a similar lifestyle and budget.”

The look that comes over the other boys face is one of unequivocal revulsion. Peter can relate. The thought of having to spend more time with this guy makes his stomach turn.

“Well, Parker, any bright ideas who we can ask?”

The hinges of the front door squeaks before Peter can respond.

Moments after, Aunt May walks into the living room, placing her bag down on the dining table. She looks between the two boys curiously.

“Hey, Pete,” she comes to his side to squeezes his shoulder. “Who do we have here?”

Tony rushes over with his hand outstretched, an eager grin on his face. 

“Tony Stark, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, ah, okay, well,” May laughs as he enthusiastically shakes her hand. Her eyes are soft as Tony smiles brightly at her. “Nice to meet you too, Tony. I’m May, Peter’s aunt. Are you... friends with Peter?”

Peter snorts. 

“Definitely not. We just have an assignment --”

“-- Great friends, actually,” Tony talks over him, taking a seat beside Peter on the sofa. To Peter’s utter disgust, the other boy puts an arm around his shoulders, squeezing his bicep encouragingly. “Aren’t we, Pete? Hmm? Best buds. We go way back.”

Peter freezes, feeling the line of heat from Tony’s against his side, the weight of his arm on his body. 

Eyes widening, he feels his skin crawl. 

“That’s sweet,” May smiles, putting her hair up in a loose, messy bun. “Well, I don’t know about you boys, but I’m starving. I’m ordering pizza, Friday special. You should stay for dinner, Tony.”

Tony places his free hand on his chest.

“I would be honoured.”

May looks at Tony strangely before retreating to the kitchen to retrieve the menus.

As soon as she’s out of sight Tony takes his arm off Peter and quickly shifts away from him like he’s been burned. 

“Dude,” Peter whispers, bewildered. “What the fuck?”

“Oh my god,” Tony whispers, shuddering as his face scrunches up in disgust. “I’m going to have to pour scalding hot water on all the places your skin just touched me. Ugh, I feel like I just touched toe fungus.”

Peter slaps his arm.

“What is wrong with you?”

Tony backhands Peter’s arm in retaliation and then shudders all over again.

“Your aunt is crazy hot, okay, I couldn’t help myself. It was an instinctual reaction. Is she taken? C’mon. Vindicate me.” 

“I’ll eviscerate you --”

“-- I mean, clearly she married into the family, she doesn’t share your unfortunate phenotype, but I didn’t see a ring on her finger. So? Yes or no?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Peter hisses as his aunt comes back in. “She’s not available to you. Not now, not ever.”

“But she is available?”

“Don’t even, Stark. You’re like, sixteen. Don’t you have any shame?”

Tony smiles, as she nears. “Not a shred.”

“So,” May waves a menu at them. “You boys happy with pepperoni?”

Closing his eyes, Peter wishes for death.

As fate would have it, he gets pepperoni instead.

-----

If you had ever told Peter that he would be sitting down for dinner with his Aunt and a dirt-streaked Tony Stark, he would have laughed.

And if Peter were outside himself he would probably find the sharing of pizza and soda over their plastic, chequered table-cloth comical -- in that uncanny, Dogs Playing Poker kind of way. But in reality there was nothing funny about the discomfort of having Tony in his personal space or the heavy, suffocating tension that has removed the air from the room. 

The entire time Tony has been hamming it up, cracking jokes with his aunt, complimenting her on the decor, asking what she does for work. Peter doesn’t know if he’s being sweet to May for the purpose of buttering her up, or, given the wealth of his family in contrast to the Parkers, if he’s being cruelly facetious. 

Nonetheless, Peter has felt on edge. It’s disconcerting, is what it is. Every single movement Tony makes, every time he opens his mouth -- frequently to sweet-talk his aunt -- has Peter’s anxiety standing at attention, hyperaware of everything the other boy does.

He’s beginning to feel like a meerkat whose den has been invaded by a lion.

Through the course of a single meal Peter’s attention moves from the sky to the floor. There is no grace or higher power that is coming to save him from this profound, unusual torture. 

So he focuses his hopes to the south, seeing through their tiny, cramped, dinner table, past bargaining. He’s willing to trade his soul to end it all. Surely some wayward being from hell would come to his rescue. 

May has Peter’s chin between her fingers. She turns it this way and that, inspecting his injuries.

“What happened this time, bubby?” She frowns, brow furrowing. “You look like you got beat up.”

Peter, very aware of Tony’s amused gaze on them, gently pulls away from her grasp. He smiles placatingly and picks at his pizza slice. God he’s never going to live this down.

“Training accident. It’s okay, I feel fine. ‘Tis but a scratch,” he brings himself to joke.

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

She leans in to kiss his cheek, carefully avoiding the fresh scabs and injured flesh. “God, you bruise like a peach. Be careful, baby, you’re our money maker,” she laughs. “What about you Tony, do you play football?”

Tony, who is mid way through chewing on a mouthful of pizza, momentarily chokes, beating his chest with his fist to swallow down the obstruction.

“Uh, no,” Tony gulps, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Nope. No recreational sports for me. Can’t.” He gestures to his chest and sighs heavily. “Asthma.”

Peter sips his coke and rolls his eyes, knowing full well there’s a half-empty pack of Marlboro Light’s in the pocket of Tony’s jeans. Asthma. What a schmuck.

“That’s a shame. Do you boys have classes together?”

Unfortunately, Peter thinks.

The other boy seems to have the same thought, as he glares at Peter from over the table. When he picks up his can of coke, he gives Peter the finger outside of May’s eye-line.

“That’s why Tony’s here,” Peter twists his napkin in his grip. “We have an econ assignment together on microeconomics. Teach says Tony’s destined to be on welfare.”

Tony leans in, chin rested on his hand. He addresses May but his stare, dark and odious, rests on Peter.

“Not accurate. Stay-at-home parent, actually. One might say that is the most important job of all. Wouldn’t you agree, May?”

She raises her Coke.

“Hear, hear.”

Tony grins roguishly, the same grin he gave the girls at the lockers earlier. “Petey here was just saying that we should ask you about your experience running a household on a single salary. We’d love to have you as a reference.”

“Was I saying that?” Peter narrows his eyes. “I can’t remember.”

Tony kicks him under the table. The hit lands right in his knee cap.

Wincing, Peter kicks back, satisfied when the other boy bites his lip to hold back a pained groan.

“Yeah, well, not surprising,” Tony says airily, waving his hand. “Hit your head today, didn’t you? Maybe you should get all that damage looked into.”

The napkin rips in Peter’s grasp.

“Maybe you should go f--”

“I’d be more than happy to help with your assignment, boys,” May cuts in.

Whatever snide reply he has in his mouth instantly wilts when he looks over to his Aunt. She looks...pleased. Delighted, almost. Her eyes under the dull, yellow kitchen light seem to get warmer, and her smile is small but softens around the edges.

Instantly, Peter feels like the worst person in the world. Of course May would be the best person to ask. She does so much for him, the least he can do is set his pride aside for one moment to make her feel good about how hard she works for their life.

He reaches over to squeeze her hand, smiling as gratitude swells unexpectedly in his chest.

“Thanks, May. That would be great.”

Across the table, a smug Tony looks like the cat who got the cream. 

Without warning, Peter’s chest goes hot with contempt, his fingernails dig into his palm. He’s not sure he’s ever met anyone he couldn’t like, until now.

I hate you, Peter mouths while May busies herself with rounding up the pizza boxes.

Kiss my ass, Tony mouths back. 

In an instant his expression flips from contemptuous to angelic when he stands and offers to help May clean up.

Peter stands too, sparing a disdainful glance to the floor. Turns out not even the devil was willing to give him a hand.

Natasha was right. It’s going to end in murder.

---

Peter walks Tony to the door after dinner to say goodbye to his ‘friend’. Following him into the hall, Peter closes the door behind them.

“What do you want, Parker?” Tony asks wearily, retrieving a cigarette from his pocket. “I’m trying to make a getaway here.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t do that with my aunt. I’m not joking, asshole. It’s not cool.”

“Relax, princess,” Tony rolls his eyes, fishing for his lighter in his backpack. “I’m not actually interested. Just trying to get under your skin. Worked, see? You’re easy like that. Hey, why do you live with your aunt anyways?”

“None of your business,” he frowns as Tony holds one hand up in surrender and lights his cigarette with the other. “Dude, you can’t smoke in here.”

“Can’t, shouldn’t, gonna. By the way, you’ve got sauce on your chin, it’s very distracting.”

Peter wipes at it without thinking. When he pulls it away there is indeed a smear of red sauce on his hand.

Tony walks backwards down the hall and exhales a cloud of smoke, waving in a sardonic imitation of a farewell.

“See you Monday, bubby.”

Peter doesn’t bother with a response, too tired from the week, exhausted by this whole darn day, and it’s not like the other boy cares what he has to say anyway. He takes a moment to swallow his anger before he heads back inside, sighing. 

Well, at least he has an entire weekend free of Stark to look forward to.

May looks at him curiously when he reemerges, but says nothing. He considers for a moment about heading to his bedroom and playing a video game to disassociate - but then, suddenly, remembers her smile earlier, and how alone she looks now. A surge of affection hits him right beneath his breastbone.

He checks his watch and then catches her eye.  Tilting his head towards the living room, he says, “Hey. You wanna eat some ice cream and watch some Colbert before bed?”

She smiles just like she did earlier and kisses his cheek. “Sounds nice, Pete.”

Maybe the whole day wasn’t lost.

As May heads to the sofa and switches the TV on, Peter catches sight of the Magic 8-Ball from the corner of his eye. He walks over and gives it a shake.

Outlook good.

*

*

----

tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @muse-of-gods

#starker #ironspider #high school au #enemies to lovers

[everybodyscupoftea]

If you’re still doing requests what about it’s pike jjs birthday and reader gets him something he’s always wanted but didn’t say it was from her and Brooke takes credit and reader is kind of like ?? because he never said thank you and Cody and Tyler are like bro you know it wasn’t Brooke

okay third to last brooke request, then the fight! 

-

normally for jj’s birthday, the whole group got together, cody made brunch, and he opened the unmarked gifts and tried to guess who got him what. it was light and fun and you watched movies all day after. 

normally, it was only the four of you. but this year wasn’t normal. brooke was joining and she was a picky eater. so cody’s food wasn’t good enough, and he was bitter.

jj had sent you and cody back down to the kitchen to make her something else and he was muttering under his breath. you couldn’t quite tell all he was saying, but you managed to catch a sentence.

“picky little sorority priss. don’t know what the fuck jj sees in her, nothing but bitchy comments and inconveniences.”

you snorted, “just give her some cereal.”

cody laughed and then glared back down at the pan, “eggs over easy for the princess. i don’t even know why the fuck she’s here, this is a family tradition. plus its breakfast burritos, we eat scrambled eggs for fucks sake.”

“well i agree with you.”

he nodded, satisfied, “good, as long as i’m not alone.”

you hopped up on the counter next to the stove to watch him, holding a plate. he sighed again, and you asked, “so what’d you get jj?”

“got him a new flask, way more expensive than the one he has now and looks way nicer. he was complaining about how his was making his alcohol taste funny a few weeks ago, so i got one custom made,” cody responded, cracking an egg.

“oh, sounds super nice, wanna hear what i got?”

“yes of course.”

“plane tickets for the pogues to come visit. he was facetiming them last month and mentioned missing them so much. i figured it could be a fun birthday surprise if they came to visit in like a few weeks.”

cody raised his eyebrows, “damn, that’s really nice.”

“i just want him to be happy, if that means easing some homesickness, so be it.”

flipping the egg onto the plate, cody took it so you could hop down. he held his hand out, “let’s go see if this is good enough for the picky princess in my dorm.

-

jj reached for cody’s gift first and unwrapped the flask, letting out a whoop when he saw the wave design with his initials  in the bottom corner. turning it around several times, he looked up excitedly, “this is fucking sick!”

next was a small box, it had a shark tooth necklace in it. jj blinked at it, a bit confused. he had one of his own that he wore every day that actually had sentimental value because it was from the pogues. he looked around, “this is cool!”

the third gift was yours, a simple card with flight details for all of them inside. he scanned over it, reading as quickly as possible, and his head snapped up in excitement when he finished, “holy fuck, the pogues are coming! like two weekends from now! guys!” 

his eyes were a little wet and you started tearing up a bit at his reaction. all you wanted was for him to be happy and he was, and you couldn’t wait to tell him all that you had planned for that weekend after several conversations with his friends about it.

finally was tyler’s gift, it was too personal for it to not be, a weighted blanket. jj had been complaining in the group chat about not sleeping well, lots of tossing and turning at night. tyler had suggested a weighted blanket, but jj shot it down because of price.

jj looked straight at him, “thanks bro, i love it. hopefully it helps the sleeping issue.”

brooke made a noise, “when i’m not there of course.”

you and tyler made eye contact, both rolling your eyes at her comment, and jj either didn’t see or pretended to ignore it, turning to cody instead. with a wide grin, he told him, “flask is dope, dude. i fucking love the wave design. plus i’ve never owned anything with my initials, feels nice.”

clearly brooke had started to realize how inadequate her gift was and before you could say anything, she jumped in, “okay i know it’s supposed to be a guessing game, but i really hope you like the tickets!”

cody’s eyebrows shot up and your jaw dropped. too astounded to speak, you watched him ask, “you coordinated with the pogues?”

“of course,” she giggled, “you think i got you something you already have!”

it felt like everything was dulled around you as jj turned to you last, “did you think i needed a new necklace or something, bud?”

“no, i-”

“i mean it’s cool if like you wanted a necklace for our friend group, but two shark tooth ones is kinda weird looking.”

your vision blurred as tears filled your eyes and you stood up, choking out, “i’ve got some homework due in an hour that i forgot, i’ll see you guys around.”

-

“dude,” cody snapped as soon as the door slammed shut behind you, “are you fucking kidding me?!”

tyler didn’t respond, just jumped up and ran after you, door slamming again behind him.

jj jumped, confused, “wait what?”

“you really think she got you the fucking necklace? has brooke even met the pogues?”

brooke squirmed uncomfortably as jj’s eyes widened. he turned to her, “did you get me the necklace?”

she opened her mouth to defend herself, but cody cut her off, “and don’t lie.”

“i- yeah, i got the necklace. it’s just yours is so worn that i thought you might like a new one.”

“why would you lie?” jj asked, trying to process.

“because, it’s not fair that she knows you better than i do. i’m your girlfriend, she’s just a friend.”

“a best friend,” cody cut in, still glaring at jj, “and you better go apologize right fucking now. both of you. this is ridiculous.”

jj nodded, jumping up immediately, brooke following after him, slower. cody turned his glare to her until she sped up, ready to get away from him and his fury.

“fucking assholes,” he muttered under his breath as the door slammed shut behind the couple.

#pike!jj #jj maybank #jj maybank request #cody and tyler #frat!jj

[cchvrrybbvmb]

|| Sweater Weather ||

Bangchan x Fem!Reader (College AU)

Characters: Christopher Bang (Bangchan), Han Jisung, Seo Changbin, (3RACHA)

Synopsis: You were just starting college and to save on money, you move in with your brother and his two friends. Soon, you began to get a little crush on one of them. But there’s a problem, he has a girlfriend. A really awful one too.

Chapter Info/Warning: smut, fluff, angst, curse words, cheating, fighting, yelling

Word Count: Like 1.1k, sorry its short.

A/N: Yes, this is gonna be a series! I’m gonna do my best to upload as much as possible! It is on Wattpad by the same username and I have a YT playlist up with songs that kinda give me a vibe that matches this story. I plan on bringing in more people to the story and be prepared for drama.

YT Playlist

Pt 1 |Pt 2 |

You sighed quietly as you walked up the third flight of stairs, tugging your suitcase along with you. Your backpack hung low on your right shoulder as you slumped slightly.

Man, I'm tired. You thought to yourself as you finally reached the top.

You looked around for a moment, then down to your phone where a text from your brother, Changbin, was waiting for you.

Binnie: apt 313. pls hrry i want u to meet my bros

You let out yet another, slightly amused sigh as you made your way down the corridor, stopping when you finally reach your brothers apartment. You let go of your suitcase with your left hand and knocked loudly, knowing your brother probably didn't hear you. But to your surprise, the door opened up. Instead of Changbin, another boy stood there with wide and confused eyes. He then looked back towards the living room and shouted for your brother, who immediately came running.

"Y/N!! I'm sorry I totally forgot you were coming around this time! This is Y/N by the way, and Y/N this is one of my bros Jisung!" He said, all while panting like he had just run a marathon. "Chris is finishing up your bedroom, you can say hi to him when you enter."

"... Okay... Um, where is my room exactly?" You asked, cocking your head to the side a bit. If there's one thing Changbin wasn't too good at, it was elaborating on little but important details.

Jisung, who had been silent this whole time while standing next to us finally spoke again. "Uh.. how are you two related again..?"

"I'm adopted." You said abruptly. "And don't worry, I don't take offense to it. A lot of people get confused."

"Ah.. Okay, sorry.. I'm gonna uh, go to my room now.." His cheeks and ears were a bright red as he turned and pushed past Binnie to go to his room.

"Anyways," Binnie said, turning to face you again, "Your room is the last door on the right in the hallway. There's a bathroom across the way and then Chris's room is next to yours, then mine. I gotta go finish preparing for movie night, go get settled in." And with that he left you at the door, not even offering to help you get settled in.

"Wow... Not even gonna offer to take my bags. Typical." You huffed playfully under your breath as you grabbed the suitcase and adjusted so your backpack wasn't falling off your shoulder. You entered the living room, turned slightly, kicked the door shut, then made your way down the hall. As you got closer to your room, you could hear someone cursing to themselves inside.

You pushed the door to the room open and stopped as you stared at, who you assume was Chris, sitting on the floor with parts to a bed in his hands.

"Why did Changbin have to get fucking Ikea... I'm a music major, not a fucking engineer." He cursed softly, but loud enough for you to hear him.

You cleared your throat, then smiled politely before speaking up to him, "U-Uh... Hi.. I'm guessing you're Chris? I'm uh, Y/N... Do you want some help...?"

He looked up at you with a smile.

Holy crap. He's cute. You thought to yourself.

"No. Thank you though. I'm almost done. This is part of your footboard. I just, don't understand how this part snaps into that one... Wait.. I got it..!" He fumbled with the wood pieces a little while longer before finally getting them to snap in place. Chris stood up and turned his back to you while he finished putting together the bed.

"There we go." He let out a triumphant grunt while putting his fists on his hips, turning to face you with that same smile as before. "And my name is Christopher! But you can call me Chris, or Chan. I don't mind!"

Even though you already introduced myself, "I'm Y/N.. but you could call me (Nickname #1) or (Nickname #2) if you'd like."

"Y/N... That's pretty." He said with a cheeky grin. "Anyways, tell Changbin that I can't make it to movie night tonight. I'm going on a date with my girlfriend."

"Haha, okay, I'll let him know. You have fun with your girl. It was nice meeting you." You said with a smile, stepping out of the doorway so he could get by.

"Nice meeting you too. I'll catch you later, (NN #1)" Chris said with a smile as he walked by, heading into his room and closing the door behind him.

You let out a short sigh of relief once he left, then looked around the room. "At least I didn't make a fool of myself.." You said quietly before you began to unpack and put things away.

The room was nice, surprisingly. It was decorated with things you liked, thanks to Changbin. The bed was situated in a corner of the room with matching beside table, a lamp sitting on top. There was a dresser at the end of the bed and directly across from it on the other side of the room was a desk, where you had put a laptop and some books the school was lending to you. There were a few photos of your birth parents sitting on the desk as well, slightly damaged from the rough years brought onto them.

After exploring the room a bit, you took a seat down on the comfy bed, then flopped back into the sheets. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes.

Sleep...

You decided to skip out on movie night, tired from all the traveling you did to get here. Not only that but your first day of classes began tomorrow, and so did your first day of work at that little pizza place down the road. You heard it's good. You don't know, you'll just have to wait and see tomorrow.

#bangchan #christopherbang #bangchanfic #straykids #ateez #choisan #choisanfic #atiny #straykidsfic #ateezfic #fluff #collegeau

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Smile

Scoop of the day is a writing challenge with a difference. Each fic is built from a set of (for the most part) randomly generated prompts and could be about just about anything, from breakups to smut to found family. Let’s enjoy some ice cream 🍦!

More info about the challenge here

Pairing: None, really. This fic is about Reader telling the League of Villains a story. It’s a side chapter to Bad Reputation, but there’s no mention of Reader x Dabi specifically so you can enjoy it as a standalone and imagine whatever pairing you want.

Rating: Mature 

Triggers: Blood and gore. Reader is a serial killer

Flavour(s): Cayenne

Prompt: 12, A Duel

Side Chapter: Bad Reputation

Notes: Reader-sama’s villain name and MO are inspired by an old Scots ballad about a man called Tam Lin who’s fleeing from the Fairy Queen. Every few years she pays a tithe to hell in the form of a human sacrifice and he fears he’s next.

——-

“Say, Big Sis,” said Toga, flopping down into the seat opposite you.

“What is it?”

You were sharpening your knives in one of the booths, only pausing to take a sip of your beer.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

She reached out to pick up one of your blades, prodding the edge against her finger.

“You know… that you worked with Stainy on a couple of jobs.”

You set down the knife you were working on, rolling your eyes as Toga immediately set aside the blade she’d been holding to snatch it up.

You had heard these rumours before. They were inevitable. You and Stain were both villains, though had no ties to any particular group; you were both serial killers with an impressive headcount between you.

The comparisons had pissed you off to begin with. You had vastly different MOs, after all. Stain killed and grievously injured heroes, while you butchered the corrupt. Stain’s kills were opportunistic and random, whereas you tailed your targets for weeks before you killed them. Stain’s victims didn’t know he was coming until it was too late. Yours received a calling card the morning of the murder.

Now that he was in jail, you’d made peace with it. You surprised even yourself by how sad you actually were. In a lot of ways, it was like losing a colleague.

“You’re talking about the Sapporo incident,” you said, to which Toga grinned.

“It was all over the news,” she said, setting down your knife and pressing both hands to her cheeks. “I saw photos of the crime scene on the internet… so much blood…”

A year or so ago, there was a double murder in Sapporo; a murder that bore the hallmarks of two notorious killers, both of whom were known to be in the area at the time. Police detectives theorised that Hero Killer Stain and villainess Titania had joined forces, though had never been able to work out why.

You had watched the conspiracies flood the internet and laughed out loud at how wrong they were. Some claimed you were Stain’s lover; others tried to prove you were rivals and the murders a result of a duel.

You cradled your beer, chuckling to yourself at the memory.

“It’s true that we were both there that night,” you said, “but it wasn’t deliberate…”

You realised all eyes were on you. Kurogiri, who was wiping down the bar, slowed right down. Spinner and Shigaraki had been playing Mario Kart while Dabi lounged on the couch and all three of them looked your way, paying no attention to the chaos on the TV. Spinner looked especially wide eyed, though he was a Stain fanboy, so you couldn’t say you were surprised.

You supposed you were their teammate now. They might as well know the story.

“Well,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “A year ago, I was in Sapporo, tailing a mark. Anyway, it was the middle of the night and I passed a group of deadbeats who wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone…”

“Naughty, naughty,” giggled Toga.

You smirked.

———

ONE YEAR AGO

“Hey, baby, don’t be like that! Come talk to us!”

You dug your hands into your pockets and continued to walk in silence, concluding that these idiots weren’t worth your time. They’d catcalled you the moment you so much as passed them and continued to follow you for three blocks.

“Baby,” one of them called, “don’t be scared! We don’t bite.”

“Much!”

You frowned, mentally counting to ten.

These guys had no idea they were poking a rattlesnake. They were the bottom of the barrel, turning to villainy for the same reason big kids hit the smaller ones in the playground. They didn’t have a creed or any semblance of honour, just a deep seated desire to feel tougher than they were.

You turned a corner, the men behind you shrieking like hyenas as you reached a dead end.

“C’mon baby,” said the leader of the trio, “smile.”

You turned to look at them, taking in their hungry expressions as the leader pulled out a knife and ran his tongue along the metal.

You watched, bored, before activating your quirk

Your quirk was simple. You could turn people into your thralls and have them do your bidding. They would jump from tall buildings if you asked them; could commit a murder and immediately forget.

It was more than a little bit handy in situations like this.

“You there,” you said, turning to address the leader. “Kill the other two.”

The two lackeys laughed out loud, though it didn’t last long, for their friend turned to them with a vacant expression and slashed open one of their throats. He rounded on the second, bloodied knife held high and lunged closer, leaving his friend to stumble to the floor.

“Wait! Bro! Stop!” he cried out, screaming as his friend stabbed him over again in the stomach. “St-stop, please!”

You watched the blood spatter, took in the sound of the blade hitting flesh. You released your quirk when you were satisfied, watching as the light came back to your thrall’s eyes, followed shortly by recognition. He spotted one of his men bleeding from the throat, the other slumped against a set of trash cans with gashes through his middle, and turned to you, horror stricken and trembling.

“What did you do?”

You stepped forward, ready to make a snide remark, only to fall silent as a hero arrived on the scene, doubtlessly alerted by the screams.

You learned from his obituary that his hero name was Augur; a recent graduate of a hero school in the area. You got the impression that he was a good kid, which made his fate all the more tragic.

“Ma’am,” he said, eyes widening at the scene before him. You didn’t blame him, all things considered. He was a greenhorn and had wandered straight into a murder scene. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

He saw only the surface level of what had happened and on that surface level you were a beautiful woman in a dark alleyway, surrounded by bodies and a man with a knife.

Your final victim realised it at about the same moment.

“What the fuck,” he cried out, “she’s the one who… she…”

“Sir, thank goodness!” you cried out. “This guy’s crazy. I was walking with my friends and he pulled out a knife!”

“What the… you bitch, stop lying!!”

He reached to grab you by the hair and yelled as Augur made short work of restraining him, binding his arms and tossing his knife to the floor.

“What… are you doing… stop… she’ll kill you… fuck…”

He wriggled on the ground as Augur stepped closer, reaching out for your shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

“Thank you,” you said, playing your part well. “Thank you, s-“

You never got the chance to finish your sentence, for a shadow passed by you both. Augur reached up to touch his cheek, where a small cut had appeared.

Your eyes widened when you noticed the newest arrival on the scene: Stain, the hero killer. You’d heard he was in the area, though never dreamed you’d cross paths.

He raised his blade to his lips and ran his tongue over the blade, leaving Augur frozen to the spot.

The guy on the floor realised the danger moments later, screaming like a toddler as Stain advanced on Augur. You watched in fascination, so in awe that such a quirk might exist that it didn’t occur to you to feel guilty, much less intervene.

It was over in a matter of seconds; Augur the third and final person to die in the alleyway that night.

Later, people spent hours discussing the circumstances of that meeting. The leader of the trio swore blind it was a group effort- you had tricked him and his men into following you, knowing a struggle would alert heroes nearby.

You supposed the true story was rather disappointing.

You didn’t exchange a single word that night, didn’t acknowledge one other beyond a look.

Stain left as quickly as he appeared, leaving you alone with the sole survivor, who immediately tried to wriggle to his feet. You approached, deliberately slowly, only pausing to kneel down and pick the bloodied knife from the floor.

You turned it over in your hands, examining the intricate patterns on its hilt. It was beautiful, clearly expensive, and you kept hold of it as you returned to the guy on the floor, who by now was sobbing in fear.

“S-stop,” he said, pants darkening with piss, “please, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

He thought you were going to kill him. For a moment, so did you.

Instead you tossed a calling card at his feet and crouched down to whisper in his ear.

—-

PRESENT

“What was it?”

“What was what?”

Toga pouted, poking her fingertip with the point of your knife. You watched as its patterns caught the light; as beautiful now as the night you found it.

“The thing you whispered to him!”

You smirked, reaching up to pinch her cheeks.

“Smile.”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #scoop of the day

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Tanana.”

This was super fun to write this morning. A little bit funny, and I always enjoy hurting Adam a little, accept in a fun way this time no angst.

Hope you guys like it :)

Just a little bit closer.

The small creature looks on innocently munching on a crop of moss. It has four large eyes, two on either side of it’s head, six legs and is about the size of a small to medium-sized dog. It has really long ears, and if it stays still long enough, it’s going to be my dinner.

I scoot closer over the rock arm raised to the low ready, the spear clutched tight in my right hand.

The creature lifts its head.

Shit, it must have heard me. In my panic, I make a decision out of haste and throw the spear. It goes wild and clatters across the stone. The Drev rabbit takes off, and I am left standing stupidly in the middle of the open field weaponless and looking like a jackass.

“Tsa din dasdarish darat?”

I nearly leap out of my skin, turning around to find Hijan standing a few meters behind me near a coiltree.

“Shit, hijan, do you really have to sneak up on me like that.” 

The old drev looks at me in amusement. I Know she doesn't understand most of what I am saying, but somehow I  think she still gets it.

“Zha deengan.” I say, one of the first phrases I learned how to use. Being able to say I’m hungry is very important in any foreign language.

She tilts her old wizened head at me, “tsa tin danehanish ee dengish?” You were going to kill and eat that?

I shrugged, “Yid zha deengan.”

She crosses her arms, a habit she’s picked up from me, “ene tsa deengan datadish zha dadee sa deeng datahaik.” IF you were hungry I would have given you food.

I sigh, she wouldn’t get it, but still she walks over and hands me a miss twist. I call them that because of their distinct shape, kind of purple and in a strange sort of spiral. When you dry them out they are crunchy like chips though not particularly salty.

I munch absently on the weird plant? Fungus? And she absently plays with my hair. I try to shrug her off, but she’s a lot like my mother in the way that she won't let me be. I am about 100% sure she thinks I am one of her Drevlings. Which has caused a bunch of interesting changes in my life as of recently, not one of which was her decision that I wasn’t colorful enough.

Apparently Drev see humans a lot differently than we do. They can see the way the UV light interacts with our skin. She describes thousands of little spots which turn into swirling stripes. When I asked her to describe the color she said it was similar to turquoise or blue, though I obviously can’t imagine it.

Makes me jealous as hell though.

However, she said my “Carapace” wasn’t colorful enough. When I asked her what she was on about she clearly meant my hair and my nails, which are made up of similar stuff to the Drev carapace.

Long story short, I now have green hair and nails.

Yeah yeah, laugh all you want, but whatever the hell she put in my hair is not coming out. And when I say green, I am not talking like a nice moss green or forest green. I am talking like the color you paint your new Lamborghini kind of electric green.

Not to say that I haven't had my nails painted before, but never this color, and never in tandem with bright flaming green hair. Don’t know why everyone associates me with the color green. I would say it was only my second or third favorite color. Either way, I look super weird as of late, green hair green nails, no shirt, no shoes, and a slowly expanding five-o-clock shadow.

You know I am not a big fan of beards, mostly not a big fan of them on me, but I forgot to bring a razor, so in that department I am kind of fucked.

I mildly wonder if she is going to make me dye my beard green when it finally grows in.

She makes me grab my spear, grabs me by the hand and drags me back towards the village. She doesn’t let go of my hand. I don’t try to fight her, she is stupidly strong, and despite being a grown ass adult, I am apparently her child now.

The other drev find her adopting me very, very funny, but at least now that she has they don’t call me dazhit anymore. The last time someone called me a bitch in front of her, she kicked the crap out of them. I thought it was pretty funny personally. They danced around the circle like a loon expecting her to be weak in her old age, and she just stood there then jabbed them in the throat with the butt-end of her spear when they weren’t expecting it.

I laughed so hard I cried.

Ever since, they have treated me with a little more respect. 

We make it to the village, and with one hand she pushes me off towards the training grounds as if to say, “Go join the other kids.”

I sigh and roll my eyes but go.

The last time I tried to skip out she almost had my hide.

I go at her bidding meeting up with the others who are around my height. Hijan watches sometimes, and she has made it very clear that the kids deserve to get the shit beaten out of them. I don’t like it much, but these kids don’t seem bothered when you knock them around. In fact, most of them like it.

I think our trainer is a bit mad that I can actually fight.

I smile to myself 

Now that I do fight, I am at the top of the class.

The kids think I cheat, difference is I have different training than they do, and a lot more experience in combat despite what the Drev seem to think.

“Tanana! Naktan ts adon.” Tanana, my nickname, or my drev name I guess means alien. Hijan doesn’t like the name much, so she calls me tsata which means gift. Personally I am pretty flattered she thinks that about me.

I walk into the circle at our leader's orders and Dark ‘the other kid’ steps into the circle across from me. He’s an ugly little shit, and I’m not just saying that. He’s a dick to me on most occasions. When our teacher isn’t looking sometimes I make fun of his coloring, that usually shuts him up. I should probably feel bad for making fun of a kid, but I really don’t. He's a dick and everyone knows it.

Problem is now he has a bit of a vendetta against me, and is pretty hell-bent on putting his spear through my throat.

Good thing we only fight in hand-to-hand combat these days.

“Aleeshazh!” 

The kid does not wait till the end of go before he is charging at me hands wide Some of these kids are under the impression that guarding your center is like…. Dishonorable or something. They would be wrong because even Drev now it’s stupid to come in arms wide open. However, at this point I’ll take what I can get.

I dodge past two sets of arms and come in sharply towards hims middle. He has reach on me, so I go in close and brutally aim for what I am hoping is his liver, if Drev have them. My single punch has him staggering back across the circle gasping.

The teacher does not look happy.

I feel kind of smug.

Of course the little brat won’t give up, I’ll give him that, he isn’t a quitter, and charges for me again.

He’s making this too easy, 

I wouldn’t call myself a martial arts master or anything in the slightest, but before he knows what’s happening, he’s on the ground with my legs across his chest. I pin his lower arms with my right leg squeezing his upper arm between both. I have tight hold of his wrist, and just as he begins to squirm, I slowly place upward pressure on his elbow by arching my hips upward.

If I wanted to I could snap the joint.

Damn I love a good arm-bar.

He squirms and squeals for a couple of minutes as I continue to apply pressure until the teacher eventually tells me to knock it off.

I let go and he frowns at me. He doesn’t approve, but there isn’t uch he can do. My move wasn’t against the rules or anything.

He looks at me for a long moment eyes narrowing at my unconcealed expression of pride, and a hint of smugness.

I can see he wants to wipe the look off my face, “zha jasti tsa jej atatchan teeya dzhalakat.”

I grin, “Of course I am too skillful for children. Surprised it took you so long to see that.”

He does the drev equivalent of a frown. I know he can understand most of what I am saying, unlike others, but I think it still annoys him when I speak English.

Tough luck bro, my mouth goes way faster than my brain, its one of my worst qualities. If it didn’t I’d speak Drev More, but for now it was going to take practice.

“Ene tsa ditan atatchan juhkee tsa tehish zheengat s dzhal.”

Well shit. 

His if you are so skillful than you can fight with the adults was not an encouraging statement.

I honestly hadn’t meant that to come out as dickish as it did, but now  I was definitely already regretting my decision to be a smug bitch.

Guess that is what karma does to you.

I see Hijan at a distance, watching as I am dragged over to the next training field. The Drevlings follow at a distance chirping to themselves excited to see me get my ass beat.

We come up over the rise just as one of the training circle is in session. 

Two Drev go at each other with spears so hard sparks are flying. Their feet cut tears in the moss as they push each other across the stone. As we come up one of them is hit in the head so hard they are knocked completely out of the circle.

“Dazhit.” I mutter

Our teacher and their teacher stop to speak at each other. I can see them staring at me pointing and speaking quietly with each other. 

The older class adjusts themselves and looks on in great interest.

I don’t know these guys well, but I am pretty sure I am about to know the butt of their spears pretty well.

I sigh and shoulder my own spear, which…. Is significantly shorter than everyone else’s.

I’m not self-conscious.

“Tanana daeen hajish.”

I walk over as ordered my spear still over one shoulder.

“Tsak nantan tarik.” Your new teacher 

I lower my head, “Tarik”

She seems amused and motions towards the circle, “Tanana ts adon. Zha nin tsa tehish darat zhegingi jastat.” get in the circle, I want to see what you can do.

Oh, great.

I do as told stepping into the circle as she calls one of her students forward. She’s a light colored Drev, the color of cream/orange rose petals. I am pretty sure the Drev would consider her pretty…. Did I mention that she’s at least two feet taller than me?

No

Well she is.

She rams her spear butt into the dirt, and I swallow hard.

The Tarik waves a hand and we begin to circle.

I hold my spear like they taught me, though I am much better at hand-to-hand combat. We test each other for a minute moving forward and back, watching each other’s guard. Of course, she strikes first though.

I dodge out of the way quickly, expecting to come in and wrap her across the back of the knees, but she spends around and blocks me at the last moment. We connect together so hard that my hands go almost immediately numb.

She brings the butt of her spear around, and I am just barely able to duck under it. She comes at me again, and I step back as the spearhead slices past my chest.

My eyes go wide as I stare at my almost evisceration.

I barely look up in time to block her fro the side.

The hit makes my bones hurt.

I flick my spear up trying to catch her in the face, but she knocks me away with impunity.

She has me backed against the edge of the circle.

She doesn’t expect me to make it out. Too bad I have seen way more action movies than she has. As she cuts over me, I slide under the cu on my knees skidding over the rock and past her into the center of the circle. 

She turns to find me and barley blocks my strike.

I’m doing pretty good.

This isn’t so bad.

That’s when the kid gloves come off, and she strikes me so hard and fast I can barely raise my spear to block her. A vicious second later she comes in with the killing blow, or the crippling one.

Did you know you can knock someone out by hitting them hard enough in the liver?

Yeah I didn’t know that either, apparently the body sense major trauma and is just like nah fam I am not about that life. The vagus nerve gets activated too.

So there I am lying on the moss and the dirt curled up in a ball trying not to vomit or pass out.

I can hear that little gremlin Naktan laughing in the background.

God I hate him.

And I am in SOOO much pain. I am pretty sure my liver has been ruptured pretty sure I am going to die right here on the face of the planet.

I groan, “Hijan… help…. hijan .”

Yeah yeah practically crying for my mother like a wuss. I know no need to point it out 

But guys, I am dying. Or at least I am pretty sure I am.

Luckily for me she shows up and eventually the others leave. I can feel her running a hand through my hair, which would be nice if I wasn’t pretty sure I was dying 

Turns out though, I wasn’t dying, I am just pathetic 

[eat0crow]

Cliche but can I request flower shop owner Marinette with gang boi Jason?

Dear sweet Anon, you have no idea how weak I am for cliche tropes. I took some liberties here seeing as Red Hood is already a sorta gang leader and just used that! I hope you like my rambly headcanons! I had so many ideas for this au that I really had to try to hold back.

Ground Zero

1) There’s a flower shop right on the edge of Jason’s territory that’s essentially become an urban legend.

No one is actually sure how exactly it’s still standing, it borders two rival gangs, Red Robin’s usual patrol route, and Jason’s terf. There have been at least three gang wars raging on the same street, yet still Miraculous stands as the one neutral spot in all of Gotham. It’s a cute shop, don’t get Jason wrong, but the only miraculous thing about it is that no one has even tried to claim it.

He brings it up once, the keyword once. Because the shop has stood as neutral ground for at least a century, and no one wants to be the one to break that streak. The shop is also cursed apparently, or at least protected by some malevolent force. The building lost a shingle once in the ’80s to a member of the False Facers, and the very next day saw Gotham PD hauling in at least two-thirds of the Black Mask’s operation.

Which is probably exaggerated, right? None of the minor drug lords under Jason want to get into it. The Black Mask doesn’t want to get into it. (He clams up the moment Jason tells him the shop re-opened, apparently, it had closed a year after the shingle incident)

Miraculous, as well as the parking lot it sits on, is the ground zero of Gotham. No crime goes into the lot, no crime goes out. The pots are never tipped over, no one tries to steal even a single rose from the display. No one touches the cute building, even if it’s painted an obnoxious pastel pink that stands out like a sore thumb in the Gotham night. At least, as far as everyone knows—Jason is still kinda skeptical about that. Really, it’s the perfect set up for a smuggling ring.

Tim is there sometimes as Red Robin. All the time really, at least twice a week. Jason has caught him more than once staked out with a pair of binoculars in the windows. A couple of times he even catches him helping the clerk repot plants. Which, yeah, Jason’s met Tim a time or two, he doesn't make a habit of sticking around his family, but the kid never came off as the gardening type.

It’s especially funny though, to see the pictures of Red Robin in a pink apron behind the counter trending on twitter.

He’s tried to go in a handful of times, to offer the owner his protection and whatnot. But each time he tries he forgets what he’s doing before he even turns the handle. Whoever runs this place must have the best luck in the world because this shit has been happening since it was built.

You’re a wayward gang member attempting to talk to the owner, you end up forgetting what you’re doing mid-action, and only start to remember five days later. The building is damaged, so is whatever scheme you’ve been planning. Actually in the shop when you decide to talk business, nope, it’s time for the most inconvenient phone call of your life.

“Why Dick, did you have to call me? I was so close.”

“Jason, are you crying?”

“I finally made it into the door. I’ve been trying for months to get in. But no, your ass gets stuck in your suit, and suddenly it’s time to call Jason. Nope, lose my number.”

2) Apparently everyone, including the fucking demon spawn, has been to Miraculous.

They all get kind of quiet when he brings it up though, Alfred actually leaves the room. Jason may have issues with Bruce, and Dick, and Tim, and don’t even get him started on Damian, but Alfred’s always been the neutral party for them. He’s always been the one they go to, no matter what. Upsetting Alfred is a capital offense. Jason feels...shitty about it.

“Alfred used to go, and get a bouquet there every weak after you died,” Dick tells him, folding his hands together, and settling in. Tim looks uneasy, and far more awkward than usual—which is saying something. “He’d get some white lilies to put on your grave. I went with him a few times, but he hasn’t been back since. I think the shop reminds him of it. When you were...you know.”

“Oh.” Jason really feels like an asshole.

“Yeah, I can’t say I’ve been back either.” Dick rubs the back of his neck like he’s admitting to something secret. “It used to be on my patrol route, back when I was first Robin. It always used to creep me out so I'd avoid it.”

“Really, Grayson,” Damian says with the same air of condescending superiority he always has.

“Hey, back in those days it was an abandoned building. The one that the witch owned! I don’t know about you, but I don’t fuck with witches. No thank you! I like my limbs.”

Jason might actually remember something like that, it’s hard. Like all the memories from before are hard, but he thinks back to being a kid. To growing up in a scummy neighborhood, and hearing people talk about the witching house that no one was allowed near. The one spot Squatters and Junkies, no matter how desperate, wouldn’t step foot in.

“It’s not all that bad,” Tim says. “My mom remembered when it was open the first time around. Mr. Fu was really nice, he used to let her play in the pots.”

“That aside,” Dick says fixing Jason with a half-crazed look. “It re-opened like a month after you died, so yeah, I went there with Alfred a lot. Like once a month a lot. The shop has this thing. You go in, and you’re instantly wrapped up in this nostalgic warm-fuzzy-reliving-my-childhood feeling. It’s weird.”

Tim stares. “I think that’s a you problem. I go in all the time, and yeah, the shop has a nice vibe, but it’s more like a you’re-safe-here thing.”

“You’re both, as usual, utterly wrong.” Damian sniffs. “If anything, the shop feels like coming home.”

The entire table turns to stare at him with wide unbelieving eye’s. Jason can hardly believe his ears...did Damian really just say something like that. The shocked look on even Dick’s face goes a long way in saying just how much no one can believe something so well adjusted came out of the demon spawn’s mouth.

Damian’s blush is priceless, his stutter—yes it’s a stutter no matter how much he denies it—is even better. “I mean to say. It feels familiar. The shop, you walk in, even for the first time, and you feel like you’ve walked through the door hundreds of times.”

Which, huh, because. “I always thought it felt like a warning. You step one foot onto the lot, and it feels like the walls themselves are daring you to start shit.”

3) Despite the hype that's built up around Jason going in, his first visit—No, Marinette that one didn’t count I literally just turned the door handle—is really anticlimactic.

It works like this, Roy asks him to pick up flowers, because Valentine's Day is today, and Kori will know what he's doing the second he tries to make up some lame excuse. Jason will never know how the man could ever be such a bad liar. As far as Kori knows, Jason is doing a typical supply run. Which, he is doing a supply run, even if the thought of cheesy romantic comedy cliches makes him sick.

All the same, Jason takes his role as best bro seriously, even though he has doubts about being able to complete this task. If his previous 52 failures are anything to go by, Miraculous hates him. There are only so many times a man can get maimed before he comes to the conclusion that the building itself has it out for him.

The hornets were what sold him. Not the bees, the hornets.

So with the air of a man who has just been sent out to war, Jason puts on this thickest jacket, his gloves, leaves his phone behind—even if attempt 34 taught him that was a really stupid idea—and braces himself to step inside. Maybe it’s because this is the first time Jason has gone into the flower shop for actual flowers. Maybe his luck is improving. Maybe...maybe the universe is setting him up for something even worse. Either way, it’s the first time the hair on the back of his neck doesn’t stand up the moment his foot hits the floor.

The girl at the counter is cute, just around his age with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. That says something, because Jason has met Superman. That man's eyes are literally otherworldly. But Marinette’s, Jason has a suspicion this is the Mari Tim is always talking about, her eyes look like they’re glowing.

Jason realizes he’s been standing in the doorway staring, way too hard, when Marinette, that’s what her name tags says, clears her throat. With an air of confidence—Jason is a firm believer in the inherent power of bull shitting your way to success—he walks up to the counter.

“I’m looking for a bouquet,” Her stare is piercing and Jason swears it burns all the way down to his soul. “For Valentine's day. One with roses, and all that shit.”

Marinette huffs, and points to a depressingly empty display shelf. “You, and just about everyone else. Did you place an order?”

“Did I place an..” Jason trails off under his breath. “Please tell me you have something with the name Roy Harper in your registry.”

Marinette takes a moment to glance down, to ruffle through her papers. “I’m sorry, I only have one left, and its got the last name Grayson on it.”

Jason sees his life flash devastatingly fast across his eyes. It ends with him being torn to shreds by one of Roy’s homemade bombs when he comes back empty-handed. There won’t even be enough of him left to throw in a Lazarus pit. Nope, he’ll be sidewalk chalk.

So really he feels no guilt in fleshing his most charming smile, the one that always makes the old ladies coo, and saying. “Perfect, I’m here to pick that one up.”

Marinette takes one look at him draped over the counter, and bursts out laughing. Today is not a good day for Jason’s ego. “I thought you were Roy Harper.”

“No, I’m Dick Grayson.” The words are bitter in his mouth. “But the bouquet is for my friend, and I wasn’t sure what name he put it under.”

“Oh,” Marinette says, a smirk playing across her lips. “You think I was born yesterday. Sorry hon, but you’re not an alternative pick up, and I'll need to see some ID.”

“You expect me to show ID for flowers?..... Really?”

“Yes, I expect you to show ID when you’ve given me two different names, and those flowers are worth over a hundred dollars,” Marinette bites back. “Sorry, but that’s been paid in full, and I’m not going to lose a customer.”

“Okay,” Jason says, taking two crisp bills out of his wallet. It hurts because Roy gave him a twenty, and Jason will always be a cheap bastard at heart. Nevertheless, he likes Kori, she deserves this, even if Roy, who will be begging for mercy later, does not. He has to very consciously remove his hand after sliding them over. The urge to snatch them back is strong. “Listen, I really need that fucking bouquet. I am prepared to pay you double the price Grayson paid.”

Marinette actually looks offended. “Just because everyone else in this city is okay with being bribed doesn’t mean I am. You can keep your money.”

“Everyone has a price.” Jason gives her a look. “Name it.”

“Well, I don’t,” Marinette snaps, reaching down for her phone. “You can take your money, and fuck off. Before I get Red Robin over here to flush you out.”

“And here I was, thinking this was neutral territory.”

“It is.” Marinette stiffens. “This place isn’t under Red Robin’s protection, but he’s still my friend. I won’t hesitate to get him over here.”

“How about this then. The bouquet for protection. I can get Red Hood to claim this place.”

“What part of neutral didn’t you get?” Marinette asks, leaning over the counter and getting into his space. From here, just inches apart, her eyes are iridescent. Blue light toxically dripping out of a cracked glow stick. “Miraculous doesn’t get involved in your shit. You all want to wage war on each other? You want to pedal drugs? You want to smuggle shit? That’s cool, but you keep that away from my fucking shop. Miraculous doesn't get involved, you can all kill each other outside.”

She’s kind of terrifying up close. If Jason wasn’t convinced she would disembowel him, he’d be tempted to kiss her. Consent, however, is sexy as fuck.

Jason knows when he’s fighting a losing battle. “Is there any way. Anyway in hell, that I can get my hands on those fucking flowers?”

“Yeah,” Marinette says sitting back down. “You can call Grayson, and have him give them to you. But aside from that, I’ve seen a lot of shit. Sorry buddy, but you can’t buy me or scare me into anything.”

“I’ll call the sorry bastard up right now.”

“I’m not giving you his number.”

“I don’t need you to give me his number, I have it right…” Jason trails off, suddenly he remembers leaving his phone behind.

4) Jason is a petty asshole who has learned that the secret to getting into the flower shop is to think flowers.

Listen, Jason had to make do with drugstore flowers, and Roy’s disappointed puppy eyes for a month after being kicked out on his ass. To add insult to injury, Tim tracked him down two days later, as he was mid drug bust, to tell him to stay away from Marinette.

Okay, it’s not like he hadn’t already been planning to go back, frankly, the shop is a strategic masterpiece. Half of its cred as an urban legend comes from the fact that whoever claimed it would be given an instant power-up. It’s the One Ring to rule them all. Jason has to go back, and convince Marinette that the Red Hood is the one to ally with. He has to.

So yeah he’s going to go back anyway, but now he really wants to. Because Tim, his replacement, dared him. Maybe a bigger person would back down, what with all the external forces building up around the shop, the legend, the neutrality, the many failed attempts, Tim somehow having a vested interest…well, Jason has never been the bigger person.

Not by a long shot.

The first three times he attempts to return, Marinette meets him at the door. She’s quick about flipping the sign from open to closed. Jason, the first time, had tried turning the handle, whatever magic makes that building hate him, makes it lock up the second the sign changes. It’s not Marinette, Jason watched her. Her hands never touched the lock.

The first person he complains to is Roy, of course, who actually gives him the idea. Roy is a genius sometimes. So attempt four ends with him buying a single sunflower. It’s gaudy as all hell, and also the first thing his hand touched after he spent an hour trying to get Marinette’s attention.

She apparently will only talk to him in the brief thirty seconds she spends cashing him out. Which, yeah, that’s fair.

And so it begins. Every day except Tuesday, the only day the shop is closed, Jason goes in, buys a single sunflower, and talks up the Red Hood.

Even if Miraculous never comes into his fold, this will all have been worth it just to have seen the look on Tim’s face the first time he comes in just as Jason's buying his daily flower.

There’s a small hole burned into his wallet, but Kori loves sunflowers.

Jason’s not the only regular, but he’s the most frequent, by the end of his fourth month he knows all the other regular’s sob stories, and everyone and their mother thinks he's sweet on Marinette. That may be the kind of true by this point. He’s worn her down to where she will talk to him as he browses. Even if she also complains that, “It’s pointless. I already have your sunflower set aside.”

Month six marks a distinct turning point in their relationship. He was upgraded from General-Creep to Recurring-Menace to Okay-I-Guess-We’re-Sorta-Friends-Now a while ago. Month six is the month he gains the title of Permanent-Fixture. It’s marked by him walking in and Marinette forcing an apron on him.

“I told Red Robin when he started coming by, that if he was going to hang around than he needed a reason to. So if you want to hang in Miraculous you’re going to work in Miraculous.”

“Unpaid labor is illegal.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just called volunteering.”

5) Getting together actually takes a while.

Jason is relentless when it comes to his recruitment pitches, but he has standards for fuck's sake. No woman actually enjoys it when men flirt with them on the clock. There’s a whole power imbalance thing that makes him sick to his stomach.

Sure Marinette can take care of herself. She’s a force of nature. Jason had offered to help carry potting soil for her once. One time. That was before he saw her lift the thirty pound bag over her shoulder like an empty sack of rice. Marinette can take care of herself, she just won’t.

Jason has seen more than one scummy fuck harass her. She gets quiet….she loses her confidence, and it’s just so wrong to see a person as strong as Marinette look small. He’s not sure what about blatant flirting and bad pick up lines bothers her so much but—Marinette can never know, and they’ll never tell her that the Red Hood tracked each one of them down. Threats are beautiful things. They just make it all come together.

He is a gentleman, even after he starts working with her. While co-workers flirting with each other isn’t as bad, it’s still kind of awful. The problem is that Marinette is always working, she never leaves Miraculous. Even on her off days.

So Jason, never finds the right time to ask her out himself. All the regulars already think they’re dating. His brothers think they’re dating. Alfred, Alfred thinks they’re dating after walking into the shop one time since Jason’s resurrection. He’s thankful his brothers gave him a heads up—not. Alfred walks in to find him behind the counter with a fluffy pink apron on, even his refined British manners are tested. Jason just knows he’s laughing. He knows.

It happens like this, Jason teams up with Batman and Co. to help with a standard smuggling ring. Nothing difficult, the only reason it should have required all of them was because of the shipment size. It should have been easy. It had been easy.

That is until the Joker shows up, Jason freezes, and takes a bullet straight to the stomach.

Stomachs bleed...a lot.

He doesn’t remember much of what happened after that. Stomachs also hurt a lot, and it’s hard to think coherently when you’re in excruciating pain. Jason, blacked out shortly after Dick started putting pressure on the wound. For future reference, while stopping the bleeding might be important, it hurts like fucking hell.

Marinette is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. She’s hunched over herself in the plastic chair next to his bed. Someone, probably Dick or Alfred, draped a blanket over her. She looks vastly out of place, like the room itself is sucking the life out of her. The lighting makes her skin almost translucent.

The second thing he sees is the sunflowers covering every inch of the hospital room. There must have been a couple dozen, at least. It was probably closer to a hundred if not more. Despite the pain that comes with laughing, Jason can’t help himself.

His laughter alerts the nurse, who alerts his family. Apparently, they’ve all been camping out in the waiting room. Much comfier couches there. His family wakes Marinette, who turns her piercingly otherworldly eyes on him.

Marinette stays quiet through all his family’s fussing. She stays quiet even after that. All she does is stare. Jason doesn’t think she’s actually seeing him.

“I didn’t think I missed this many days,” Jason jokes, gesturing to the multitude of flowers wrapped around every available surface.

“No, you didn’t.” Marinette’s answer is curt. She’s distracted, Jason really wishes he knew what she was seeing.

“Not a fan of Hospitals?” Jason tries.

Marinette blinks. The cloudy look on her face disappearing as she shakes her head. “No, I really can’t stand them.”

“Me either.” Jason feels an intense desire to continue the conversation, if only to keep Marinette from closing up again. “You know, you didn’t have to visit me.”

“I wanted to,” Marinette says. “Your brother called, and told me what happened. I came by just after you were finishing up in surgery.”

“What about the shop?”

Jason has been working at Miraculous—volunteering because Marinette still doesn’t pay him—for months. He’s invested in the place now.

"It can be closed for a few days,” Marinette says, reaching over to take his hand. Jason lets her, he’s always hated hospitals. It's gotten worse since he came back. The comfort is welcome. “This is more important.”

Jason wants to say something, to take his shot, and ask her out. Because she’s just as important to him, but it feels wrong so, he settles with, “You’re a really good friend Marinette.”

He does his best to ignore the way the words choke him.

“I think,” Marinette starts, only to stop herself. There’s a moment of internal debate before she continues, “I think we both know we’re a little more than just friends.”

6) Jason never does claim Miraculous, it remains perfectly neutral, despite having the Bat-Family practically living out of the apartment upstairs.

“Hey, do you think now that we're dating you can convince Tim to come by out of costume?”

Jason blanks. “What?”

“Tim, do you think you can get him to stop dropping by as Red Robin so much. People are starting to think Miraculous has been claimed as part of Batman’s terf.”

Jason does the most logical thing he can think of. He buries his face in his hands, and groans. “Why did you have to figure it out?”

“Was I…not supposed to?”

“No, no you weren’t. How did you?”

“Jason, there’s only one person you hate as much as Tim, and that’s Red Robin. I’ve seen how you look at both of them. No one makes your eyes scream murder as much as he does. Not even Dick.”

“Oh God,” Jason says wiping a hand across his face. “Does that mean—”

“That I know you’re the Red Hood?” Marinette asks, cutting him off. “Hmm, I’ve known that for longer. Probably since you first started coming around consistently. At first, I thought you had like, the biggest boner for the guy, but then you seemed really into me and well, you talked him up way too much to either not have a crush on him or be him so, I connected the dots.”

#maribat #jasonette #crow writes #I am powered by spite #Drabble drabble where this is 3k #flowershop au #headcanon #jason todd #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng

[xaviermayne]

My Brother's Favorite Toy: Part Two

"Get the fuck out of here," Grayson said, throwing his hand toward the door.

"Dude, I've got a raging bone—"

"I don't fucking care!" Grayson yelled, covering his face with a forearm. "I said get out of my room."

Ethan stood for a moment, shocked that Grayson made him work so hard for him, and then wouldn't at least let Ethan take care of his own need.

Once he got back to his room, Ethan's dick had gotten softer, and he was feeling too deflated to even try and finally knock one out. He thought about how Grayson looked after he came, the look of shame on his face.

Things didn't get much better. The next day, they had breakfast in virtual silence. Ethan finally tried to break the ice when he finished the last scoop of his avocado.

"Bet it took a long time cleaning up last night," he said.

"Ethan!" Grayson snapped. "We're not gonna talk about that, alright?" He glared straight into Ethan's eyes. "Like, ever. Got it?"

Ethan sat stoned-faced. How could they never talk about it? They had just permanently crossed a line as brothers. Before that, the gayest thing they'd ever done together was occasionally watch porn together, but only when they were both horny and exhausted from traveling, jerking themselves under the sheets, each in separate double beds in a hotel room.

It had to be talked about. But Ethan knew his brother. Sometimes Grayson just needed time. Ethan would just have to wait.

Later that morning, they were working out when Ethan suddenly realized he'd made a grave mistake. He still hadn't cum since last night, and Grayson was loading up the weights on the squat rack. Ethan was about to be forced to view his favorite in-person porno play out yet again in front of his eyes, with a level of horniness he didn't think he'd ever experienced before.

To make matters worse, Grayson was wearing a new pair of shorts that Ethan just knew was going to drive him crazy. Short red ones made of this clingy combed cotton, and Ethan swore they were at least a half-size too small.

Ethan tried to look away, but his eyes flicked back to his brother's backside as soon as he heard his brother grunt as he lowered himself down, the heavy barbell held up against Grayson's shoulders with his strong arms. As he bent his knees, Grayson's ass pushed out further and further, until Ethan saw the fabric of the shorts straining to hold in his brother's mighty ass.

Ethan felt like his body had just been tossed in an oven, with prickly heat all over him as he felt his dick swell again too. There was a pang of pain as his balls ached.

He worried he might even be hallucinating when he could've sworn he saw the outline of his brother's hole through his too-thin shorts. The same one he'd fingered last night.

Grayson quickly raised back up, then shrugged the barbell off his shoulders, and the weights slammed to the floor, quaking their gym. Ethan was shocked. "Gray, are you okay?" Ethan asked. "That could've gone straight through the floor, bro." Grayson turned around, glaring at this brother.

"Are you okay, Ethan?" Grayson asked in a mocking tone. Then he pointed below Ethan. Ethan looked down and saw what looked like— yep, that was his precum on the floor. He'd been so entranced that he hadn't realized his growing dick had snaked its way through his boxer briefs, the head drizzling precum as it rested between his thigh and shorts.

"Oh, fuck," Ethan murmured.

"You're fucking disgusting, Ethan," Grayson said. Ethan could see the repulsion in his brother's eyes. A vein on Grayson's neck had popped out, and Grayson walked toward Ethan, his muscles juiced up from the set. For a moment, Ethan was legitimately scared of what Grayson was about to do. "We're brothers, Ethan. It's not just gay, it's incest. That fucking illegal. And even if it weren't, like that's just fucking weird, bro. I'm working out and you're literally cumming on the floor, which I hope you're gonna clean up by—"

The adrenaline pumping through Ethan gave him a sudden burst of confidence. "Bro, shut up, you're literally the one who made me fingerbang you last night."

Grayson grimaced at "fingerbang". "You're the one who broke my fucking dildo, bro!" Grayson screamed at Ethan, leaning in his reddening face until Ethan could feel flecks of spit hit his cheeks. "You used something that'd been up my ass, Ethan! You're a fucking freak!"

Ethan was actually trembling now, although he was trying his best to hide it. The brothers had promised to never punch each other, but with all the blood and testosterone flowing through Grayson right now after his workout, Ethan really couldn't be sure.

Suddenly, Grayson pivoted and walked over to one of their weight benches. For a split second, Ethan thought maybe Grayson would just continue with his workout to get out his aggression out. But then, to Ethan's surprise, Grayson pulled down his shorts and underwear. Ethan stood in stunned silence, his mouth agape, as Grayson stepped out of them and laid face-down on the wide, black leather bench. Grayson pushed back his dick and balls so he could lay entirely flat, and then let his legs dangle off the sides. He turned his face away from Ethan.

"W-what are you doing?" Ethan stammered quietly.

"You're gonna fuck me," Grayson said, his voice echoing around the gym. "If you're such a freak and want to fuck your brother, let's just do it and get it over with. Then you can finally be fucking satisfied and we can never talk about this again."

Confused and suspicious, Ethan walked slowly over to Grayson. He wanted to ask more questions, but the sight of his brother's plump buns stupefied him once again, with his cock quickly pulsing back up to full wood. Meekly, Ethan squatted down to part his brother's cheeks. When he did, he was intoxicated by both the sight of that tight pink hole, now in the daylight, and the special brand of sweaty musk that Ethan could smell from his brother's exposed crack.

"Two rules: go slow, and don't cum inside me or I'll rip your fucking dick off."

"Kay," said Ethan. Ethan hocked and spat a loogie on his brother's hole, then began fingering him just like last night. This time, Grayson stayed completely silent. But Ethan knew he was doing good work when he found his brother's spot, and Grayson's dick, pinned back against the leather, started to grow.

For always looking so tight, Ethan was surprised how quickly Grayson was opening up. He figured last night probably helped stretch him. But Grayson's hole didn't even twitch once, which made Ethan think his brother wanted it a little more than he let on.

When Ethan finally got a third finger in, and Grayson's dick was throbbing, a bead of precum glistening in his slit, Ethan pulled down his shorts and underwear, kicking them off. His dick swung round, he didn't think he'd even been harder. He spit twice in his hand and then palmed his dick, making sure every inch was glistening.

Ethan had to smirk when he finally felt the tip of his head press against his brother's warm entrance. He pushed, and his smirk spread into a wide, silly grin when he saw the full tip disappear inside Grayson's muscular ass. But that was the easy part.

The twins both had what they referred to as torpedo-shaped dicks. Rather small heads, but the shaft quickly flared out to their full widths, then sloping back down to normal once you got to the base. So Ethan knew the hardest part was yet to come.

He pushed gently, and surprisingly Grayson didn't seem to mind. In fact, he could've swore he saw Grayson's dick throb hard a couple times right after. When he started really pushing in, though, is when Grayson started to groan with discomfort. Ethan stopped, letting his brother's already-stretched ring adjust to his girthy cock.

When he was sure Grayson must be ready again, he started squeezing in further. Grayson's groan quickly shot up to a yell. "Ahh, fuck! Go slow, what did I fucking say?" Grayson yelled.

"I am going slow!" Ethan shouted, though he knew that wasn't true. He was so impatient to pound away. Then he leaned his head forward and let another mouthful of spit drop onto where Grayson's hole was puckered around his pulsing dick. Then, after a few more moments, slid more in.

Grayson groaned dramatically, slamming a fist into the bench, but the extra spit seemed to help, as Ethan was able to squeeze in the full width with little protestation from the coiffed-haired cutie.

Ethan pulled out a bit carefully, then pushed back in. Grayson stayed silent.

"You're taking this like a champ," Ethan said.

"Shut the fuck up," Grayson said through gritted teeth.

With his next pump, Ethan went a little bit further. Suddenly, he saw Grayson's expression seem to light up in the mirror facing the bench. That's the spot, Ethan thought, remembering a similar expression on his brother's face last night. He pulled out and in again, and he could've sworn he heard a tiny moan croak out of his brother's throat.

Newly confident, and desperate to get his full dick in, Ethan dared to go a bit deeper. Yep, that was a moan, Ethan thought, as Grayson slapped a hand against his own mouth, then buried his face in the bench. Ethan began building a rhythm, plunging his big dick in and out of his little brother. Not his entire length, though, since Ethan wasn't sure how deep you could even go in a guy's ass, and he didn't want to push his luck, as he could hear Grayson's muffled moans and knew his bottoming bro was enjoying that big torpedo middle pressing against his p-spot.

Pumping away, Ethan suddenly felt that tingle behind his balls, and he had to stop mid-thrust. Don't cum, don't cum, don't cum, Ethan thought frantically. He remembered the one thing that always helped him not prematurely ejaculate.

Womp womp womp, Ethan sang in his head. Yeah-ee-ah-ee yeahh! It was the old James Charles meme. Womp womp womp! The vision of James's ghostly face attempting to sing worked once more. The need to cum passed.

Pulling back before another thrust, Ethan looked down and saw the lips of his brother's ass pussy puckered around his cock. He was stretching Grayson out so much, it was like Gray's ass was trying to suck his cock whenever he pulled out some.

He pushed back into Grayson's warm, wet, velvety ass, and then continued to pump. At one point he repositioned his foot, causing his dick to tilt down a bit more, and then Ethan could've sworn he started hearing his brother utter little high-pitched "uhhhn" sounds with every pound. Encouraged, Ethan tilted his hips down a little bit more, to where his iron missile was pile-driving nearly straight down into Grayson's ass. In the mirror, Ethan saw Grayson's handsome head suddenly shoot up from being buried in the bench. Grayson's eyes were rolling back into his head.

Ethan kept his rhythm. Looking down, he saw Grayson's ring suddenly clamp down a bit on Ethan's dick. Ethan grunted from how good that felt, then Grayson's ass widened back out. Then Ethan saw Grayson's balls pull up a bit, and Grayson's bulbous prostate, bulging out between his hole and his balls, pulsed hard, almost seeming to squeeze.

Suddenly, a hot white load of cum rocketed out of Grayson's red, rock hard dick. It shot between Ethan's thrusting legs and Ethan heard it splatter behind them, all over the chest fly machine. With another pile-drive, Ethan watched Grayson's prostate squeeze hard again, and a split second later another big load shot out.

Holy shit, Ethan thought. I'm milking him with my fucking dick.

Piledrive after piledrive, Grayson's cock blasted load after load. Clearly his balls had managed to restock overnight. Obsessed with the control over his brother's pleasure, Ethan couldn't help himself from keep going. And though the bulb of Grayson's prostate kept pulsing each time, the loads eventually got smaller and smaller, until it seemed as if Grayson was stilling cumming, but had actually run out of cum. His dick would still quiver as if it were shooting, but it was just blanks.

God, I milked him completely dry. Suddenly something primal kicked into Ethan. He looked up at his brother with his eyes still rolling back, his mouth agape. Ethan felt that warm tingle, but even the meme couldn't help him now. He was in animalistic breeding mode now. With a loud growl, Ethan felt his aching balls seize, and he finally pounded his giant saved-up load inside his brother's ass. Something inside Ethan made him want to breed his seed, as far deep as he could. He heard Grayson grunt in pain as Ethan forced the last inch of his dick in, and sprayed a couple more shots inside.

Breathless, the intense warmth of the orgasm slowly cooled out of Ethan's body. He collapsed on top of Grayson, his dick still balls-deep. Ethan's ballsack loosened and drooped on top of his brother's, which flanked Grayson's softening dick.

Ethan smirked to himself, thinking, Now it's really gay, because our balls touched.

"Ummm Ethan?" Grayson asked, his voice strained.

"Yeah, Gray?" Ethan replied, expecting him to say something like, Get the fuck off me.

Instead, Grayson lifted his head, his brow furrowed, and demanded, "You didn't just shoot YOUR FUCKING LOAD IN ME, DID YOU?!"

Ethan gulped.

#grethan #ethan and grayson #dolan twins #grethan smut

[snickiebear]

Tumblr keeps glitching out when i try and send you an ask so I will try and keep it short :c

war torn and ragged (the beginnings of peace and a soft, soft life) - with the fanfic ask thing you reblogged.

Questions 1, 3,4,11,12

THORNSPUN!!! HI!!! tumblrs been extra glitchy lately for me too :(( if there are any other questions or anything you wanna discuss, my dms are always open!!!

war torn and ragged (the beginnings of peace and a soft, soft life) + 1, 3, 4, 11, 12

1. What inspired you to write the fic this way?

so the entire "go more into the past and further in the future" for the series was not planned LMFAO. tbh i wasn't even going to write the second or third installment until i saw just how much people loved it?? which fucking baffled me because it was just this silly little thing that i wanted to put out there.

so when i was writing the second one i wanted to dive deep into sakura's POV and a little bit of her past and then how she sees the kids. that was the main idea of the series; God Eater Sakura+ Kakashi and three brats. AHHAHA

the little time skips in between was just me being lazy ig?? i just wanted to write the parts i wanted to and the ones i thought were funny or important, so i kept that theme up with the others ones too just for consistency :)

now, as for the entire Sakura Fucked Up All The Timelines thing, that was me being self indulgent and not allowing anything bad to happen to them LMAO well, worse that than Sakura and Kakashi had to go through.

3. What's your favorite line of narration?

the entire beginning of We Are Creatures Of War,,, i just really think i worded Kakashi's character (in WT&R) with those lines but especially

Fifteen and he was nothing except a ghost. He swore that if anyone dared touch him, their hand would pass right through him (and the thought didn’t scare him as much as it should have.)

this one just really resonates with me and Kakashi and really shows where his character development with begin

4. What's your favorite line of dialogue?

DEF THE OPENER FOR STARS IN OUR EYES LIKE LMAO i was laughing when i wrote that (fun fact! those first two lines were the very first idea and then everything exploded afterwards)

“Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto whispered, the horror plain on his face. “You’re married?”

Lazily, Kakashi looked down at his gloveless hand where his ring rested, “It would appear so,”

Naruto squawked, eyes going wide with disbelief. “Who would wanna marry your lazy ass?!”

Sai only blinked, his brows raising the smallest amount to give away his interest.

Sasuke just huffed, “Is it Gai?”

or!

“What are we?” he rasped, voice shot as he dropped his weapons.

She turned to look at him, grinning at him through bloodied teeth, “Untouchable.” | i really love this one too bc kakashi is like "what are we bro??" (as in relationship status) and sakura like "bro fucking badass duh" LMAO

11. What do you like most about this fic?

God Eater Sakura. Yeah. i just love letting sakura be absolutely feral and give no shits and do whatever the fuck she wants to. and then kakashi is like "THATS MY WIFE" yeah i love that.

12. What do you like least about this fic?

ummmm tbh i don't have anything i don't like about it anymore? i went back a few weeks ago and completely edited it, fixed tenses, added a few lines, stuff like that and now i'm pretty satisfied with it. though, i often don't read my works after they've been up for a while,, so yeah. i'm pretty okay with how it is rn!

though, maybe the whole God Eater and her Wolf thing? idk i feel like its cringey??? i might go back and change it but idk

ask ask ask!

#silly things from silly friends #THANK YOU SO MUCH THORNSPUN!!!!! #HAVE A GREAT DAY/EVENING!! #thoughts behind words

[zzzzzbored]

Reblog from vchris1989

“Everything alright, boys?  Heard some commotion,” Mr. Grant asked with concern as he peeked his head into his youngest son, Ian’s, room.  Ian was in bed finishing up some homework and it looked like his older brother, Warren, was lounging on a beanbag and playing video games.

“Yeah, Dad.  Everything’s cool.  Just finishing up some work,” Ian assured him.

“And I’m hanging around in case he has any questions,” Warren added.

“But I heard a noise.  Sounded like someone fell or was in pain,” Mr. Grant said with concern.

“Oh that.  Just got my ass kicked in Halo 5.  Walked right into a head shot.  Guess I was a little loud,” Warren explained, putting his father’s worries at rest.

“Okay sounds good you two.  Ian, try not to study too hard.  Your older brother could teach you a thing or two about having a good time.  G’night boys,” Mr. Grant said, beaming inside from the pride he had in his boys.

“Goodnight, Dad!” the two sons echoed back as he closed the door and went back to his room downstairs.

When the coast was clear the two brothers made brief eye contact before Warren hopped on the bed, immediately pulling his little brother into a passionate kiss and embrace.

“You heard the old man.  I could teach you a thing or two about having a good time,” Warren said with a cute grin.

“That was fucking close, man,” Ian said as his older brother began kissing his way down his neck.

“I mean talk about perfect timi- ohhhhh shit man!” Ian gasped out as his older brother stuck his head up his shirt and began ravenously licking and sucking on his nipple.  Ian pulled his shirt up to give his big bro better access.

“Careful ‘Baby Bro.’  i don’t think the old man’s gonna believe the Halo excuse if he hears your moans echoing through the house.  Especially not if he walks in on me pounding your ass full of cum,” Warren said with a smirk.

“I’ll try my best to keep it down, but no guarantees,” Ian replied, biting his lip in a cute and somewhat nervous way.

“Something tells me we’ll be alright, little man,” Warren reassured his little brother as they both stripped their shirts off, followed by every other shred of clothing.  “The old man isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed,” he said, making them both chuckle before Warren laid down on his little brother, bringing their lean and toned bodies together as they began ravenously making out and grinding against each other.

Both brothers began breathing harder as they picked up the intensity and starting grinding their engorged cocks together.

“Wow look at that.  Guess I shouldn’t call you Little man,  That cock’s almost as big as mine!” Warren said in admiration before crawling back and grabbing his little brother’s fuckstick in one of his hands.  “Looks fucking delicious,” he joked before leaning in and gently licking Ian’s cockhead.

“mmmmmmmm oh wow!” Ian groaned lightly as his big bro licked his cock head again, and again until finally he took the whole thing in his mouth and began swirling his tongue around the younger boy’s cockhead like a car doing laps at Nascar.

Ian kicked his legs out, toes curled from the sensation as his lean core tightened and he bit his lip to keep from hollering out.

Warren let his little brother’s cock out of his mouth when he tasted a drop of precum hit his tongue.

It wasn’t long before Warren had eaten out his little brother’s tight, virgin hole before slowly working his cock in, marveling at the almost supernatural tightness.  They started slow and tender at first, but a solid half hour later Warren was power thrusting into Ian.  His little brother was on his back with his thighs spread wide and his legs wrapped tight around his ass, pulling him closer with each thrust.  Ian was biting down on a sock to help him keep his volume down as he moaned endlessly as his big brother kept fucking him full of long, thick dick.

Warren felt himself getting close, so he reached down and pulled the sock out of his brother’s mouth.  “You think you can handle this?” he asked.

“nnnnngggggggggg Fuck yeah!  Fucking fill my ass.  I can take it!” Ian begged as he squirmed underneath his brother, overwhelmed by the satisfaction of being stuffed so tight and full each time his brother’s cock slid deep into him.

Warren growled gently as he picked up his pace, something that made Ian gasp for breath and go slack-jawed.  Then the moment arrived and there was no turning back.  Warren slammed into his little brother, groaning and squirming as the shots of cum began rocketing deep into Ian.  “Oh fuck yeah fucking take it!” he roared as quietly as possible as he thrust and thrust, over and over again, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into his little brother.  Ian was a good slut–each time he felt a new shot of cum surging into him he got an erotic chill, and he was sincerely caught off guard as he felt an unmistakable tightness building up in his balls.

“Oh shit!  I-I’m gonna cum!” Ian gasped out as his back arched and he began trembling.

“Yeah you love Big Bro’s cock, dontchya?” Warren said with an exasperated smile as he kept pile-driving his brother, a sweaty mess of testosterone as he honed in on Ian’s prostate, finding the spot that made the boy yelp like a bitch in heat.  He kept thrusting into that spot over and over, long after he had finished launching his own loads of cum.  Warren was on a mission to make his little brother cum from nothing more than his love of getting stuffed full of dick.  Warren finally got his way as his younger brother clenched every muscle in his body.  Ian’s reaction was to reach for his cock, but Warren grabbed both of his arms and pinned them down, still thrusting into that boycunt with primal power.  He was delighted as he watched his little brother squirm and desperately fight back against his bound arms, but only because he knew how much better this would be for Ian.

“It’s gonna be so much hotter this way!  I promise!” Warren insisted right before he saw Ian’s pupils dilate.

Ian arched his back one last time as he opened his mouth to shout, but no sound came out.  The boy thrashed around wildly as his brother kept stuffing him full of cock while his own untouched cock began launching his cum in every direction as he squirmed in place.  Ian’s thrashing body meant his cum launched not just all over his body and his older brother’s body, but all over his bed sheets, left and right.  His juices sunk in, embedding in the fabric and giving the room the odor of raging sex.  Warren finally stopped thrusting into Ian as the boy’s cock stopped twitching, finally giving them both a chance to calm down.  Warren collapsed forward onto his younger brother, splashing the pools of cum that were all over their bodies.  He was still inside his little brother, but his cock was quickly returning to its relaxed size.  Still, he left it buried as a sign of dominance and because he knew it made Ian more comfortable.

The brothers kissed tenderly as they rubbed their bodies together until Warren finally pulled out, laying next to his little brother (something which got his back wet with cum.)

“You sure made a mess,” Warren teased.

“Shit I know right?  Had no idea this boy had it in him,” Ian said with amazement as he oddly pointed himself out in the third person.

“Holy fuck he looks so good on you.  Mmmmmm yeah you make such a good slutty younger brother,” Warren said with a chuckle.

“Are you kidding me?  Knowing it’s you in there got me so fucking hot and hard.  You make a fucking amazing power top big brother,” Ian replied.

“I think we could stay in here.  I’m pretty sure we could blend in.  I’ll be Warren and you can be Ian.  We can have sizzling hot brother sex every night.  We can make these hot boys do whatever we want,” Warren said with a grin.

“I do think we could fool everyone.  I mean when we were possessing these boys, shit I thought we were so gonna get caught with all the noise and yells they were making.  But our new Dad believed you were just yelling after getting your ass kicked in Halo?  Glad we got them under control in time so he didn’t walk in on them convulsing.  Fuck it, let’s keep these bodies!  Let’s stay in these boys forever!” the person inhabiting Ian said.

“Fuck yeah you make such a sexy little bro,” the person inhabiting Warren said.  “Kiss on it?”

The brothers moaned as they wrestled tongues clear past midnight, now merely the vessels of complete strangers who planned to exploit and use their sexy and youthful bodies for a lifetime of sweaty and sizzling hot fucking.

#male body possession #male possession #reblogfromvchris1989