#bc my plan is to make a masterpost of the fic when i post the final chapter and then tag that so its one of the top posts in the tag
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COLLEGESLUTS.COM — IDEA 686 | HHJ
Part one of the CSC series. You can find this series’ masterpost here. This can be read as a stand-alone, but you may have questions that will be answered in future installations. Keep in mind this is the intro.
There are three things you hate more than anything: 1. Your english Lit. professor, 2. Frat parties, and last but most definitely not least, 3. CollegeSluts.com and their founders. There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything: 1. College, 2. Back alley blowjobs, and 3. The frustrating desire to fuck you silly.
PAIRING: hyunjin x f!reader
GENRE: enemies to lovers; smut; crack; angst; college au
WC: 17k…. fear me! (also broke my record!!)
WARNINGS: reader is going through it and will continue to go through it. there’s no development for them at all in this installment i apologize (😭) reader calls skz sex-crazed demons, she’s very confused but not irrational, there’s not many warnings besides for the smut— profanity, alcohol consumption, mentions of alcoholism, annoying characters, insanely inexperienced reader, bet making, one-sided hatred, hyunjin wants to figure you out & thank god for that otherwise this series wouldn’t exist, sexual tension bottled up as hate bc yn is stupid. virgin/corruption kink, loss of virginity, overstimulation, dirty talking, unprotected sex…, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, teasing, breast play, and i think that’s it…
A/N: hi angels, i finished this in three days somehow and even though i didn’t plan on this being my post for 400, we hit it recently so this is it! and it’s fitting since a lot of people are waiting for this series <3 I hope you enjoy the first installment, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, my ask box, or in a reblog! & lmk if you want to be added to the taglist for this fic or my permanent one which is linked below! i hate writing the introduction to a fic and if you feel like this entire one-shot is pointless i promise it’s not 😭 there’s a lot of drama to come soon but i had to establish some things first!
i managed to make a playlist for this series! please enjoy 👩🏾💻
mlist; taglist; navi; | ⇦ previous | next ⇨
There are three things you hate more than anything.
Your english lit. professor
Frat parties
last, but most definitely not least, collegesluts. com and it’s founders.
It’s the literal bane of your existence, the reason why it’s so hard for you to sleep at night, and the one thing that makes your skin itch even more than the fuzzy sweaters your grandma knits every winter season.
Maybe if the creator of the site wasn’t such a douchebag, and maybe if the site users weren’t even worse, you wouldn’t abhor it as much as you did. But that’s a lot of maybes— ones that create a reality much different than your own and don’t make you feel much better.
You were first introduced to the hellsite in your second year of college— only made a year before. After you found out, age twenty hanging high over your head and no longer a fresh face in the school system, you’d tried and failed to get it shut down. Multiple times.
Happy, carefree people, would just ignore its existence— get on with their life, allow people to be college sluts in peace, but you couldn’t do that. Only you saw it for what it was, right? A sex site for college-goers to ruin their lives before it even started. Everyone else was too blissed out, a hand shoved in their pants every night as they watched their classmates fuck each other without fail. Only you could really see—
“Hello, can you hear!?”
Your eyebrows furrow at the voice behind you and your shoulders tighten when a finger pokes harshly at your skin.
“What?” You groan, rubbing the section of your arm that was unjustly abused. “Can you just be nice like a normal person?”
“Well, you’re an asshole so why would I be nice to you?”
“Fuck off Seungmin. What do you want?”
The only thing that betrays the fact that he heard you at all is the laugh that echoes behind you. Your chest tightens in response, and you fold your arms over your chest.
Kim Seungmin. A close fourth on your list of things you hate more than anything else. He was one of the users on the-site-that-must-not-be-named. A platinum member actually, a fact that always made your skin burn even in the coldest of weather. He was even friends with the site creators, and you wouldn’t doubt he had a hand in making it completely. He’d never been shy in supporting his use of the site, because nowadays regular cam sites were somehow uncool. He even had shirts with the college sluts logo in big, bold, letters. He was a part of one of the things you couldn’t stand. A big part of it even, but you ignored all that so you could call him your best— and one of your only— friends.
Kim Seungmin is first on the things you love, and that automatically removes him from the list of things you hate. When an arm slings itself across your shoulders you barely react, simply steering you both in the direction of your first class. It’s too early to deal with your best friend, and especially his toothy remarks and sarcasm, but you don’t say so and simply allow him to talk your ear off while you concern yourself with more important things.
Things like Hwang Hyunjin and Christopher Bang. The admins of College Sluts and the cause of the twitch in your brow. Sometimes the amount of hatred you felt for the two amazed you. To others, they were college boys— hotter than most, smart, talented, promiscuous. They had a good personality, a future, and were people a lot of other people got along with (and their other friends but you won’t get into that lest you pop a vessel).
To you, it’s agree to disagree. In short, they’ve got everyone totally fooled. Only sex-crazed low lifes actually managed to create a porn site. It’s one thing to think of it, sprawled around their dorm rooms knocked off their ass and barely sober, but it’s another thing to actually do it— work hard on it, execute such ideas— it’s completely baffling to you. How can no one see how perverted that is? You don’t even know what to call it, but the fire that erupts in your gut is enough to tell you that it’s bad.
There’s a bunch of girls and guys crowding around them, laughing and hugging and touching. Touching as if they were in the privacy of their home and not outside where others could see. It makes your chest heat up, and makes weird maggots swallow up your stomach, leaving a tingly feeling in its wake. You hate it. They’re demons. Sex-crazed demons.
“God, I’m starting to think you’re like anti-sex or something.”
You grunt.
“Literally we’re just walking by and you look like you’re contemplating murder.”
You hum.
“Jesus,” Seungmin sighs, shaking his head before waving over at his friends. More like his sinner acquaintances. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not overly religious or particularly shameful— despite how you might seem— but it’s something about that entire group (Seungmin sometimes included) that makes you feel like breaking something. Choking something? Crying? Screaming? You’re not sure anymore.
When you catch Hyunjin’s eye he smirks and you frown. Just the sight of him is enough to make your head hurt and your knees weak. At least, that makes sense to you. The rest of the student body? Not so much.
You hoist your bag up on your shoulder and tear your gaze away from him. Your building isn’t much farther and if you squint really hard you can pretend you don’t see Hyunjin approaching from the corner of your eye. It’s a hot day and when he sidles up to you, shoulders almost touching, it gets much hotter.
“Hey,” he greets, slapping palms with Seungmin and holding one down low for you. Your hand hesitates, almost greeting him in return before you slap his arm and send a glare his way.
“Bye,” you grit, turning your head away from him and grabbing at Seungmin’s arm. “I have somewhere to be.”
“Loosen up!” He calls, his long legs easily catching up to your fast pace. “I just wanted to say hi to my favorite girl.”
Your breath stutters the tiniest bit but you ignore it, not bothering to grant that remark an answer. Hyunjin is flirty. Too flirty. Stupid flirty. The kind of flirty that gets girls like you all riled up even when you’re supposed to be hating him, even when you’re supposed to curse the very ground he walks on, and it just makes the dreadful maggots in your system start up their annoying fluttering.
Seungmin doesn’t say anything, even when your grip on his arm tightens at a painful rate. You will your heart to stop beating so damn hard and for your entire body to stop reacting so easily to him. You don’t even know him so why does he hold so much influence over you? Someone like him? Someone who spends their time and their intelligence on a haphazard college porn site? No. No way.
“What do you want, Hyunjin?”
The devil with the long brown hair, and soft cheeks, and cute dimples takes the chance to lean close to your ear, making sure you hear whatever it is he has to say.
“Don’t be too mad at me, bug. I just wanted to tell you that you look gorgeous today.” Hyunjin pats your cheek, smiling before he leans away, turning back the way he came.
“See you later.”
And that’s that. The sex demon comes to set your cheeks ablaze and leaves once he’s done, letting you deal with your muddled feelings on your own. Once you start walking again, ignoring the stare boring into your cheeks and the confusing pounding of your heart, there’s only three words on your mind.
Fuck Hwang Hyunjin.
There are three things Hyunjin hates more than anything:
1. College
2. Back alley blowjobs
3. The frustratingly clear desire he has to fuck you silly.
Hyunjin isn’t sure when he realized it exactly. He doesn’t even know why he reacts to you so strongly. If you were anyone else he probably wouldn’t give you a second glance. He’s sure of it. Maybe it’s the desire to want something you can’t have, or the fact that you aren’t groveling at his feet.
It’s not like Hyunjin has any idea of why exactly you’re so hellbent on hating his guts, nor does he really care all that much. So you don’t like College Sluts, that’s your right as is anyone else’s, but it’s not like he’s shoving the damn shit in your face. He minds his business, manages his porn site, and does it all with a smile on his face. You, though? It’s a miracle he’s seen you smile once. And that was when he wasn’t paying attention and knocked into someone carrying a full tray of food.
Chan laughs at him all the time and so does Minho, wondering if he has some weird kink for wanting people who clearly don’t want him back, but more and more he’s thinking that isn’t the case. He’s always been bold, always been a bit flirty even when he wasn’t trying, and he knows he’s easy on the eyes. It’s not a secret, but your reaction to him isn’t one of disdain or clear attraction, but rather confusion, and that confuses him.
He flips the mic in his hands, switching between cradling it and flinging it every which way. The speakers of the karaoke system effectively drag him from his thoughts as the music gets louder and Jisung spins Felix around on their makeshift stage. Whoops and hollers echo from around them, the rest of their friends cheering at the performance in front of them. Hyunjin can’t bring himself to laugh even as a smile threatens to take hold of his features.
“Yo, what’s up with you?” Jisung plops down beside him, slinging an arm around Hyunjin's shoulders as puffs of breath leave his lips. “You’ve been sitting here brooding. What’s going on?”
“I don’t brood,” Hyunjin argues, though he maneuvers his body so he can tell Jisung exactly what has him brooding. “It’s just— I’m still thinking about Y/n.”
“Bro.”
“It doesn’t seem weird to you?”
“Weird that she’s just not interested? This is a new low, Hyunjin. Not everyone is gonna be attracted to you—”
“I know, but that’s not what I’m saying. Doesn’t her whole attitude towards us seem a bit excessive? All over a website.”
“It’s not your typical website.”
“Sung, it’s probably one of the safest porn sites out there because of how exclusive it is. No one but students here can get on it.”
“Does she know that?”
“That’s my point,” Hyunjin sighs, running a hand through his hair before starting again. “If she doesn’t even know the full details of the site, how can she possibly hate it? Hate us?”
Jisung pauses, looking back towards the stage. It’s true that all eight of them have thought about this at least once. They know there’s people who hate the website, who steer clear of it in all instances, but none who have made petitions and gone to the superintendent requesting an audience about it. No one who’s actively been so hateful to them specifically, refusing to look in their direction unless it’s to send a glare their way.
“Maybe there's another reason?” Jisung offers, sending Hyunjin a sideways glance. “I mean, maybe she just hates porn.”
Hyunjin snorts at that. How can anyone hate porn?
“You’re laughing but I’m dead serious. Has she ever even had a partner?”
“How the fuck would I know?”
“You think about her 24/7. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew what she ate for breakfast.”
“Not fucking funny.”
Jisung barks out a laugh, falling over into Hyunjin’s space. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over it soon.”
Hyunjin isn’t so sure but he nods anyway, allowing Jisung to go back to the stage for the next song. Hyunjin knocks back his drink, throat constricting barely at the bitter taste. He doesn’t care. He really doesn’t, but there’s something weird about your behavior and he’s more than determined to figure it out. Maybe he needs to just mind his business but fuck that, he thinks, no one is gonna hate him for no reason. Maybe he’s a little too riled up at that, maybe Jisung is right and this is a new low. Maybe he just really can’t deal with rejection well. Maybe.
Minho’s screeching into the mic does it’s hardest to ruin Hyunjin’s night, but the way the rest of his friends tackle him and attempt to steal the mic just makes him laugh, leaving a warm feeling in his chest. This is all he needs— his friends and a good drink to put a smile on his face. And the college porn site he worked very hard on, of course.
The group only gets through a few more songs before they decide to leave, deciding to ignore the fact that some of them have classes in six hours or that they’ll be nursing a bad headache for the entirety of it. Hyunjin is one of them. He laughs along with his friends as they walk, and he watches them from where he stands in the back.
Jisung has his phone out and is making a concerned face, typing furiously on the device. Either they’re having technical issues or his girlfriend is getting on his ass once again. Minho has an arm slung around his shoulders, laughing at whatever it is he’s typing and whoever it is that’s typing back. Next to them Felix and Jeongin have joined hands and Felix swings them back and forth, giggling as he does. Jeongin pretends he doesn’t like it, like usual, but Hyunjin notices the hint of a smile on his face. He always notices.
Chan and Changbin are quiet on either side of him, walking in the tranquil quiet that’s always rare for their group. It feels incomplete— Hyunjin wishes Seungmin could’ve come. He doesn’t know how the boy manages to be friends with the creators of the CSC and also be friends with its #1 hater. Maybe he’s selling secrets, telling you everything about the site, all its loopholes and glitches. Maybe he’s working against them now, coming up with a plan to shut them down once and for all, though Hyunjin doesn’t know if that’s possible.
Right after those thoughts trickle into his mind, he thinks about Seungmin wearing the handmade “merch” for the site, and doesn’t entertain them any longer. It would be ridiculous— even for him— to think that someone who repped college sluts like it was their brand would ever work even harder to tear it away.
The knot in his throat that’s been squeezing at his airways since earlier that night relaxes just a little. He’s never actually said this to anyone, but just as much as he thinks about why you hate him, he thinks about whether Seungmin will hate him too; about if he’ll lose a friend due to reasons he’s not even sure of. As much as he thinks about why you hate him so badly, he thinks about why he doesn’t hate you right back. He wonders why he— instead of wanting nothing to do with you— wants to know everything about you. Why he wants to understand you when you’ve made no effort to understand him, or worse, made up your own mind about who he is without even attempting to entertain the idea that maybe you’re wrong.
Hyunjin has lived his whole life suffering from other people's ideas of him, from their expectations that they held with no prior consultation with him, from the perfect picture of him in their minds that didn’t correlate with the real Hyunjin. He’s had his fair share of wondering, thinking, wanting. And it’s disappointing to see how even after all this time, since childhood, nothing has changed. He’s always wanted what he’s not allowed to have, but it’s not for lack of trying.
They don’t arrive at their frat house quick enough. As soon as the door opens into the building Hyunjin feels like falling asleep on the couch. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he’s also not sure what last happened on that couch. Between spilled drinks and sex that was too rushed to even make it to a bedroom he’d rather take his chances on an actual bed. Chan doesn’t bother to turn the lights on when he comes in, and the seven of them shuffle around each other, spilling into the living room or into the kitchen to grab drinks and snacks as if they didn’t just come back from eating.
Hyunjin knows he’s been distant all night but he can’t be bothered to care as he sends a quick good night his friends’ way and makes his way upstairs. The house holds eight other boys besides them and he’s surprised none of them are downstairs or hanging around even at the late hour. Though, Hyunjin reasons, most of them have girlfriends and the few others that don’t are seniors and probably pull all-nighters in the library or some shit.
Hyunjin doesn’t want to think about that. The year only started back up again a few months ago, he doesn’t need to be thinking about work anymore than he already does. He makes a good living even without a real job, so he’s taking shit day by day. It’s not like anyone else is much different. Most of his seniors are cramming because they were so carefree. Hyunjin doesn’t think about the implications of that either.
The softness of his bed is long overdue and his body sinks into the plush bedding. He strips off his shirt and pants, not bothering to make his way to a shower or put pajamas on or do anything really. He has five hours before he needs to wake back up and this is nothing if not a power nap that won’t help him get through any lectures the next day. Or, later that day rather.
Hyunjin doesn’t concern himself with that though, because there’s only one thing that’s on his mind when he falls asleep and when he wakes up, and that’s what he’s going to say to you tomorrow morning in the first class of the day.
The first thing you manage to think of when you wake up is how best you’re going to ignore Hyunjin today. You’ve been brainstorming, wondering which response will humble him the best, maybe make him speechless for long enough that you can get away. If only those getaways could last forever, you sigh, pulling a fitted tee over your head. It’s low-cut, makes your cleavage pop just a little bit more, and you add a necklace for that exact reason.
You’re not the sex-crazed demon that the CSC most definitely are, but you do like a little attention every now and again even if you don’t get that much action. Or any, really, and you’re just fine with that. It’s one of the reasons why you don’t like the CSC. There’s no reason to sexify everything, and that’s exactly what they do. People can get by just fine without it.
Just fine? Seungmin would probably jab, but he’s not here right now and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You are just fine, but the mention of the-site-that-must-not-be-named just fills your stomach with stones and ignites your nerves like nothing else does. To you, that’s more than enough proof that it’s the CSC’s fault— not yours.
Anyway, today is the day you have to see Hyunjin bright and early, which always manages to set your day off to a bad start. No one should have to deal with him at this time of day, or any time of day, and you pity the ones that do. Seeing Chan isn’t rare, but he doesn’t talk to you like Hyunjin does. He stares every now and again, gives you a lazy smirk, and is generally sexy as much as it pains you to admit it, but he doesn’t bother you. Though you know he probably talks about you. His stares are too knowing, way too insightful even when you don’t really know each other.
The rest of the boys you’ve talked to on a few occasions. They aren’t as insufferable, but they are associated with Hyunjin and Chan and are, in fact, involved in the upkeep of the-site-that-must-not-be-named. To you, that’s more than enough reason to at the least dislike them. You don’t hold soft spots for any of them, except maybe Felix who seems way too sweet to be a sex demon, but then again, it’s always the nice ones.
Besides, it doesn’t matter what they say to you or don’t say, or if they look at you or not, or if they even know you exist. It really doesn’t matter. You shake the thoughts from your head vigorously, ashamed at the fact that you spent the first hour of your morning on them. It’s unbecoming of you. It’s good to remind yourself not to actively concern yourself with any of them, and simply fight for the site’s demolition like you’ve been doing.
Seungmin says you have no life, but Seungmin also wears T-shirts with cartoonish, glittery pink boobs and the site’s name in glittery cursive letters. You don’t think Seungmin should have an opinion.
The last time you attempted to do anything about the site was roughly two months ago, a month after school started back. You took your time to settle in, fall into a routine, and get your work and classes in order before resuming your mission. It was arduous, brainstorming and juggling school work, but it was your responsibility since no one else would work hard enough.
A quick shuffle through any of your things would tell people you were a perfectionist— articulate in your placement of items and the way you did things. Even taking the time to plan certain outings to a T, determined to make sure everything goes well. It’s not a secret how obsessive you get over things and how uncomfortable or incomplete you feel when things don’t go your way, when you have to follow someone else’s idea of how things should work. It’s the reason why most people don’t get along with you because to them you’re too controlling, too compulsive and dominating.
When you were a child that fact had bothered you. It was confusing— that was just your nature, and you wouldn’t have survived your childhood without it based on the way your parents lived. When kids would shun you, treat you like something sticky at the bottom of their shoe, it hurt your young heart. You felt apologetic simply for acting the way you always felt like you should act, for doing the things that left you satisfied after. Now, in college, no one demands classmates to get along, no one can shun you in the cafeteria and force you to eat in the library. If they don’t like you it’s fine with you, frankly it doesn’t matter. You have one goal and one goal only, and once that’s over with you can move on.
When you step out of your dorm the sun is blinding, shining down with unforgiving rays of light. All you can do is squint, tilt your head down a little and wish you had a hat. The walk to the Art’s building is long, but feels longer with how warm it is. The heat shimmies its way under your clothes and into your skin, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.
The scenery on the walk there is always breathtaking though, the pavement that makes up the pathway to the building is closed in by blades of grass that have been cut and trimmed to perfection. Rocks make up the border between them— large smooth stones that vary in size but are more or less the same oval shape. There’s an entire garden full of all types of flowers, Gardenias, Lilies, Irises, Tulips, and even some you can’t name. At the entrance of the building there are bright lights that illuminate at least 25 feet in front of it at night, and wide hedges that have been designed to look like swans, their necks curved in a way that if they were moved next to each other they’d be forming a heart. White flowers grow inside the hedges serving to make the entire scene look more beautiful, and as much as you hate walking there, the view is unmatched.
The Art building has always been your safe haven, Art in general being your home away from home. It took a long time for you to feel comfortable studying it— always caught up in the what if. What if you can’t make a living from it? What if you end up not liking it as you grow older? What if it’s not a sustainable career? Questions that still plague you often, and stop you from putting as much of your heart in it as you’d wish. These classes are somewhat self-indulgent. A way for you to escape from the hectic mess that is your life, away from the stress of work, from the anxiety of what comes next, and from the infuriating instances that continue without your control— away from the things you can’t control so you can run to things you can. So imagine your horror when you found out Hwang Hyunjin was in the same class as you. At the same time. Doing the same thing.
It felt like your escape wasn’t yours anymore, and that the stress from your day followed you everywhere you went. It wasn’t enough for Hyunjin to pester you often— he had to be everywhere you were too.
You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, setting your shoulders and regain the poise you take pride in– carrying yourself with the confidence you wish you had. It doesn’t take long for you to make your way to the entrance of the building, as you walk, having been kissed by the scorching light of the sun and brushed against by dewy blades of grass. It feels surreal and staggering to be outside alone so early in the morning, yet peaceful, for you know that it will be long before you get this chance again.
“Bug!”
Oh no. no no no. You walk faster, hoping to make it inside before Hyunjin can catch up to you. Hyunjin is never this early. He either comes right on time or late to the frustration of your teachers and peers although no one would ever say it to his face. You can hear his feet against the pavement louder and louder as he comes closer to you, catching up just when you take the first step up the stairs to the entrance.
“You didn’t hear me, bug?”
“Stop calling me bug.”
“Sorry, bug,” Hyunjin laughs, putting a heavy arm over your shoulders and bringing you closer.
You roll your eyes so hard it feels like they’re gonna stick. Maybe they should so you don’t ever have to see Hyunjin again. Maybe he’d think you look scary like that, your eyes rolled up forever. Maybe then he’d leave you alone.
Hyunjin is annoying. He always acts like you’re his friend, but you know it’s fake because why would he want to be friends with you, someone who hates everything he works hard on and hates him as well to an extent. It seems overly fake and forced to you, so you don’t ever entertain it. The last thing you need is to fall for it and then be made out to look like an idiot when he eventually embarrasses you.
“It’s too early.”
“It’s never too early, pretty.”
“It’s always too early to be dealing with you,” You groan, wrenching his arm away from where it laid over your shoulders. “Why are you talking to me?”
“Why not?” Hyunjin asks, seemingly unaffected by your attitude towards him. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his shoulders raised up to his chin in a shrug. “I like talking to you.”
You snort, looking up at him with eyebrows raised, “You like talking to me, the one person— possibly in this world— who absolutely hates you, and barely spares you the time of day?” You ask, tilting your head in mock confusion. “I’m sure this is the longest we’ve ever had a conversation, but nice try.” You squeeze his cheeks, hard, and when he swats your hand away you can’t help the giggle that you let out. If his cheeks felt like dough under your fingers you’re choosing to ignore that, wiping a hand on your jeans with way more intensity than needed.
“But see,” Hyunjin starts again, “We’re having a conversation right now and neither of us wanna choke each other.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m barely resisting the urge to punt your head like a baseball.”
It’s silent for a moment before you both burst out into a fit of giggles. Hyunjin braces himself against his knees as he laughs, his hair falling over his face as he does, and you’re not much better— staggering where you stand to laugh with him. It only takes a few seconds for you both to calm down, and slowly the reality of what happened catches up to you.
“Do you even punt baseballs?” Hyunjin snorts, and you just laugh harder.
“I don’t know, Hyunjin, if you haven’t noticed I’m at the arts building not sports.” You wheeze, fighting through another laugh. “Now I’m just imagining your head flying over the gardens.”
Hyunjin lets out another chuckle but shivers a bit at the thought. He waits for you to calm down, your giggles turning into small huffs. A hint of a smile still remains on your cheeks, and the sun shines down so strongly on your features it feels like he’s seeing an angel— like divinity right in front of his eyes. When you straighten up, he can see every movement. The way you position your bag upright, the way a bit of your gums poke out from your lips. Your lips, soft, glossy, and look the most perfect in a smile. He can see the way your eyebrows lose the tension from your laughing fit, the way the crinkle of your eyes lessen as your face relaxes. He can see everything, so he can also see when your lips fall back into a firm line, when your eyebrows go back to that angry stance they always hold when you’re around him. The way your shoulders stiffen, and the grip on your bag tightens. He can see everything, and he reminds himself the only time you laugh is when he’s the butt of the joke.
“I’m going to class,” You murmur, walking the rest of the way up the stairs and into the building without looking back or waiting for him to respond. Though Hyunjin wonders what he would’ve even said.
I’ll come with you.
We can sit together.
No, you both can’t do anything together, and more and more Hyunjin wonders why he even wants to.
“You were laughing with Hwang Hyunjin? The sex demon??” Your friend hisses from next to you, stringing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You?”
“Yes, me, Jieun.” You huff. “I can barely believe it either. What did he do to me? I hate him, I can’t show weakness by laughing around him.”
“Honey,” Jieun laughs, leaning towards you, “You can laugh. Honestly the fact that you ran away after is hilarious.”
“I didn’t run away.”
“You ran away.”
“I didn’t run.”
Jieun settles on you with a heavy stare, face slack, and you roll your eyes. “Fine, I walked away.”
“I don’t know how either of you take each other seriously.”
“I don’t take him seriously.”
“Yeah you do, babe. You refuse to laugh around him. That’s very serious.”
You snort.
“And the fact that he gives you the time of day when this is the dumbest feud possible… I just don’t understand it.”
“It’s not dumb.” You sputter, smoothing your hand over the glossy wooden desk of the classroom. “It’s…” You trail off, staring into the large windows at the side of the room. You cock your head and lean forward, jaw slack when the sex demon himself waves outside. “Oh what a stalker.” You growl, throwing up the middle finger in his direction. “He’s got his little posse following him too.”
When Jieun makes to wave back you smack the back of her head and groan when she gives you an affronted look.
“What was that for?” Jieun exclaims, bringing a hand up to rub against the back of her head.
“Don’t fraternize with the enemy,” You hiss, folding your arms over your chest and staring back at your professor.
“Are you gonna explain the feud—”
“No.”
In your opinion, class doesn’t end quickly enough. You split with Jieun at the entrance, the both of you going in opposite directions, and attempt to reorder your frazzled mind. So you laughed. A lot of people laugh at people they hate. Plus, he laughed too— so why should you be overthinking it? You’ve laughed before, in situations you weren’t supposed to, and this is no different. Now you just need to make sure it never happens again. You nod to yourself as you walk, pulling out your phone to make sure Seungmin is already at the meeting spot.
The sun is still just as ruthless as it was earlier, but a light breeze grazes your skin and rustles the trees along the sidewalk and in the field in front of you. There’s a bunch of picnic tables, some occupied and some of them not. There’s groups of friends sitting under trees, some couples, some of them alone; reading or completing assignments in the nice weather. You spot Seungmin a few tables down, a brown sweater over a collared shirt and cute glasses perched upon his nose.
You take your time walking to the table, letting your skin soak in the warmth and tranquil peace of nature. When Seungmin spots you he shuffles over, giving you some space to sit next to him and you do, mumbling a small hey before knocking your head against the table.
“You’re going to a party with me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Seungmin… Hi, how are you? How was your day? No, I’m not.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
“Well, unless you’re going to drag me, no I’m not.”
“I just might,” Seungmin sighs, “Why are you so difficult?”
“Difficult? You’re the one being difficult. I don’t want to go and you’re telling me it’s not a choice.”
“Because it’s not.”
You let out a groan, a long torturous one that has people turning their head to a straight faced Seungmin and you who’s head is still knocked against the table. When people think it’s stopped it starts all over again, a guttural groan filled with displeasure and frustration that loosens your chest when it’s done.
“Are you done?”
“Leave me alone.”
“It’s on Saturday. I can pick you up.” Seungmin says instead of arguing.
“Today’s Thursday.” You whine, just stopping yourself from letting out another groan— one that wouldn’t ever stop for as long as you have to deal with Kim Seungmin and his annoying, snarky, bossy self.
“…. I’m aware.” Seungmin says, and you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s making a face like and so what?
“I can’t stand you, I hope you know that. No type of warning, no preparation… I don’t party. I need at least two weeks to mentally prepare myself and another two weeks to get an outfit.”
“Damn.” Seungmin says, but he rubs a hand against your back, lightly pushing you to lift your head from the table. “Listen, I’ll help you. And it’s being thrown by people I know so you don’t have to worry. I don’t think many people throw college parties a month in advance but I’ll keep that in mind.”
All you can do is nod, waiting patiently as Seungmin finishes whatever assignment he’s working on. You’ve already completed the ones you have, the pro of not having much else to do and being on top of things always. Everyday you both meet up here, either at a table or under one of the trees and talk. Read, finish assignments, or even eat snacks. There have been some times where you meet there and then go somewhere else together, rarely off campus but it happens, and you get something to eat or go on a mini adventure. It’s the highlight of your day and you’re sure it is for Seungmin too, but you’d never admit that to each other. You don’t have to, though, because you’re both always on the same wavelength especially when it counts the most.
Though now he’s given you something else to worry about, that being this sudden party. It’s no doubt being held by a frat house, and you have an inkling which house it is. You haven’t asked, trying not to pop the bubble of secureness that surrounds you. You can go to a party being held by the CSC. You can, and you will, and if it isn’t being held by them then that’s even better. You try to convince yourself you really don’t care at all, but the thought remains. Can you really enjoy yourself at a party being held by them? You don’t know why it bothers you so much or why you feel so uncomfortable having a good time around them, but you just keep repeating the same thing to yourself over and over. It doesn’t matter.
“Jieun told me what happened this morning.”
“Of course she did.” You sigh, staring ahead at the group of squirrels running up a tree. The people under it startle when leaves start to fall over their heads. “We just left each other, how did she find the time to text you all that?”
“She called me,” Seungmin cackles, braces on full display as he scribbles furiously into his notebook. “Every story I hear about you and Hyunjin is against my will.”
“Every interaction between me and Hyunjin is against my will,” You counter, shifting so that you face him. “What did she say?”
“That you laughed with him and it embarrassed you. That you’re confused about your feelings towards him.”
“So are you two my therapists now? I’m not confused. I don’t like the things he does— I don’t like his carefree attitude, how he has no problem talking to me like we’re friends. I don’t like- No, I hate the fact that so many people fucking praise him because he created some crude porn site.”
Your heart rate picks up, your hand gripping at your jeans as a poor attempt to conceal your growing frustration. “I don’t like the fact that no one else sees what’s wrong with it. We shouldn’t have a fucking porn site for college students? I don’t think we should know what we all look like under our clothes and I’m tired of everyone acting like I'm the crazy one. He’s the perverted one, the weird one. Who the fuck thinks of something like that? It’s not just him, it’s all of them.”
Seungmin ponders your words, the grip on his pen tightening ever so slightly. “Hyunjin is a good guy. All of them are, and if that’s how you feel then why do you talk to me? I use the site, I'm their friend, I’ve helped them out when making it. Aren’t I weird and perverted too?”
You sigh, “Seungmin…”
“Help me understand. Because if you can stand to be around me, then why can’t you be around them? Or try.”
“It isn’t the same and you know it. It’s easy to ignore it when it’s you. That’s them. They are the CSC to me. A reminder of everything I hate, what I want to get rid of.”
“But why the hell does it matter? People want to use the site and that’s why they do. No one is fucking forcing it.”
“You guys just don’t understand it. None of you do. It’s like you’re blinded by it or something.”
“We’re grown adults, Y/N,” Seungmin growls, “We don’t need you to be a guardian fucking angel.”
“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy, just because all you fucking care about is sex or some college sluts, like can you actually be that shallow?”
“Why is it so hard for you to see reason? Do you see how angry you’re getting at me for asking a simple question? You asked me what Jieun said and I told you.” Seungmin spits, shutting his book with a slam.
“Stop asking me about that site. Stop making me seem like some confused hateful person just because you’re too dense to understand where I’m coming from. I’m not confused, I know exactly how I feel. I try not to bring it up because you like the damn thing so much, and you can’t seem to hold the same courtesy for me.” You stand from the seat, settling a dark glare at Seungmin’s angered form.
“Fuck your friends, fuck that site. Stop talking about me like I need guidance.”
You’re not irrational. You’re not. You have every right to be angry. Seungmin is your friend. Jieun is your friend. They’re supposed to be there for you, not gang up on you. You feel alone, so alone in everything you fight for, in everything you aim to conquer— as if the things you stand for don’t matter. It reminds you of middle school all over again, of high school— having people look at you like you were something from another planet. Someone people had always failed to understand. It’s lonely. You’re not irrational.
You didn’t blow up. You’re not angry. You’re frustrated, yes, but you don’t blow up. You don’t get mad. You aren’t irrational. Anyone else in your position would feel the same, right? Anyone else would be upset because it feels like your friends always take the side of the people you despise more than anyone else. Why aren’t they on your side? Why don’t they believe you? Why don’t they understand? It makes you feel stupid. It makes you feel like you have no right to feel the way you do. It’s lonely.
You’ve never been irrational. You’ve always had a good grip on your feelings. Always. And when it feels like the grip loosens it’s always the cause of something relating to the CSC. It’s proof that it’s what the root of your problems is. It’s proof that the CSC needs to be gone so you can finally go back to normal. So you don’t feel like the odd one out. So you don’t have to feel so upset. Because you’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way. You don’t get mad. You’re not angry. You don’t blow up.
You control everything, you control your actions, your emotions, and you make sure to hold control over your environment— of how things play out for every second of your life. This feels like it’s running out of control. That the CSC brings havoc in your life no matter what— even when you try to ignore it, it comes running back to fuck you over even further. You’re not irrational. You’re not confused. You don’t get mad. You don’t. You don’t blow up. You control everything.
The sun hides right when you need it. You pretend tears don’t blur your vision, you pretend that the suddenly gloomy environment doesn’t affect you the way it does. You pretend that the once comforting breeze doesn’t feel sharp against your exposed skin. You pretend because when things run out of control that’s all you can do. Pretend you’ve got it handled, pretend that you still have a grip on things, pretend that you understand. You’re not irrational. You have every right to feel this way.
You never argue with Seungmin. Playful bickering from time to time or you two being rude to each other but always playfully. You’ve never cursed at him so maliciously, spoken to him like he was someone random, as if he wasn’t your best friend. You’ve never done those things— but you do when the CSC is involved. You never get pissed at Jieun, even when she’s annoying, even when she acts like the only thing important in life is the new boy she’s talking to— You don’t get mad. You’re not mad now, but you’re something. Something fiery, and everything always goes back to the CSC. You’re not irrational. You’re just the only one who understands.
Right when you see the blurry form of your dorm building it gets blocked by a large body and you slam right into its chest. You can barely see in front of you and you know your face is screwed up into the worst form imaginable, tears falling with no control. Without your control.
“Sorry, excuse me,” You laugh wetly, sidestepping whoever is blocking your way and running up the steps to your dorm. The sooner you fall into your bed and cry this out, the sooner you can forget about it. The sooner you can apologize and move past this weird limbo of feelings. It feels like purgatory, stuck in the in between, not sure which direction you’ll end up going in. It’s full of unsureness, of frustration. It feels like a loss of control. It angers you, makes you feel like nothing is going right.
But you don’t get angry. You’re not irrational. You don’t get mad. You pretend, because that’s all you can do.
Hyunjin is confused.
The last thing he expected to see this morning was you laughing, but now, he realizes the last thing he ever expected to see was you crying. Eyes glossy with tears, a nose rubbed raw, face screwed up into something pitiful.
Hyunjin doesn’t know a lot of things. He doesn’t expect a lot of things, but most of all he doesn’t know how to continue after seeing it. He doesn’t expect to care so much, not after the way you’ve regarded him. After the way you’ve both regarded each other. He doesn’t know why he can’t walk away and say nothing when he knows he should. If he brings it up you’ll get defensive, be embarrassed, be angry. He shouldn’t say anything.
He keeps walking, frowning slightly at the gloomy clouds. It was so sunny less than an hour ago. Things change so quickly, it doesn’t make any sense. He thinks back to earlier that morning, the light that shone on your face with every laugh you let out. He thinks back to just a few seconds ago. How dark shadows fell over your face as tears ran down your cheeks.
The walk is more automatic than anything else. He doesn’t take the time to stare at the scenery, he doesn’t look at the people around him. He barely sees the ground in front of him as he walks, his mind not registering what’s right in front of his face. He’s too caught up in you. Like usual, wondering why you do the things you do, why you feel the way you feel, wanting to understand. What did he do? What can he do to make you feel better? How can he make you hate him any less? He wants to understand, he wants to listen, to talk to you, to be near you. It confuses him.
His phone vibrates, pulling him from his thoughts. It’s chan, texting about the party on Saturday, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He’s so tired, tired of running around for parties, tired of attending to the site, tired of waking up early for classes. He just wants a second to sit down and relax, to not worry about you ruining the one thing he’s worked hard for, to not worry about what class he’s flunking, about what party he’s expected to attend, to not worry about why you were crying in the middle of the afternoon. He just wants a moment to collect his thoughts and free his mind.
HJ: I got it
BC: alr cool, put it in the cabinet with the lock, you know how Hyunjoon gets
HJ: Fuck, is it that bad?
BC: he’s an alcoholic bud, it’s that bad.
Hyunjin laughs a little, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He wonders if Seungmin told you about the party yet and grimaces, wondering if that’s the reason why you were crying. If it is, he’s not sure who needs to get a grip. You, for hating him so bad, or him for continuing to try and get you not to. It takes a lot of effort for him to continue the power walk back to the frat, but he arrives sooner than later, stuffing the bag of drinks inside the cabinet and locking it shut. He thinks it’s a bit ridiculous that they have to lock the alcohol up as if they have small kids running around, and also wonders the effectiveness when Hyunjoon lives in a frat house and is an adult who can buy his own alcohol.
It’s Thursday afternoon but he finds that he’s not as excited for a party as he should be. Usually, he’d be bouncing on his heels, counting down the hours for it to start, and realizing he’s so caught up in everything else going around he doesn’t feel that normal excitement that he so often does. He makes sure to fix that, shaking the unnecessary thoughts from his head, pushing responsibilities to later. He has a party to prepare for and he's gonna act like it.
The rest of the boys don’t get back till later— they’d given Hyunjin the responsibility of buying cups and drinks and shitty snacks while they went off somewhere else. Hyunjin can’t keep track of what they do especially if he’s not joining, so he focuses on doing what he’s supposed to in order to make this the best party of the year so far. His frat has always held the record of best parties— has always held their winnings in high regard as well, and he’ll be damned if he gets the cold shoulder if he’s the reason the party isn’t as good as it should be. Most of all, he’s thinking about what he’s gonna do during it.
Hyunjin is not shy on having sex— never has been, never will be, and more often than not he’s having it. Sure, that may be expected since he made a literal porn site, but Jisung also had a hand in it and he has a girlfriend. Felix doesn’t have one-night stands often, nor does Seungmin. It’s different for all of them.
He knows there’s a few girls that have been actively trying to get in his pants, knows that he’s been trying to get into theirs, but he can only hope he can focus on them for long enough to do so without thinking about you. If you come, he knows that there’s no chance he’ll think of anything else, and he’ll probably spend the entire night just getting you to laugh again. To get you to explain to him why. why why why. It’s confusing, but he pretends it doesn’t matter.
Thursday comes and goes too quickly, and Friday does as well. The day isn’t over yet, it��s only the afternoon, but the implications of that make you anxious. Make your nerves ignite far more than they should.
Seungmin didn’t answer your calls for the rest of that Thursday. Didn’t read or respond to a single text until you decided to leave him alone. Jieun called, but you didn’t answer. You think the way you felt towards her is the way Seungmin felt towards you. Maybe something worse, so you gave him space and took some for yourself, a moment to really think about what made you react the way you did. You don’t think you’re in the wrong, you still don’t think you could’ve reacted any other way and you’re not sure what that says about you.
You take another bite of your sandwich as you walk down the street from the Art store, your phone cradled in your other hand and a drink poking out from the opening in your bag. It’s hard to mentally prepare for things that you don’t know anything about. You don’t know where the party is, who’s hosting it, how long you’re expected to stay. Thought that’s if you’re even still going. You want to take Seungmin’s silence as an answer that no, you aren’t, but you also don’t want to assume that and then he shows up at your door and you’re not ready.
You don’t want to go, not at all, but if it made Seungmin happy then you would. If he didn’t come to pick you up you briefly entertained finding your own way to the party and cornering him, forcing him to hear your apology before leaving and soaking your pillow with tears. But you don’t know where the party is. You also briefly entertained the idea of calling Jieun and asking her, but you’re not interested in the lecture that would come from that. You still don’t appreciate her words about you to Seungmin and the implication of them. Seungmin is your friend, you can tell him what happened all by yourself. You don't need Jieun to play messenger.
You swallow the last of your lunch and throw the wrapper in the nearest trash can. You want to start a new painting, one that can unleash the frustrations of your life as it is right now, and you can only do that by getting some new supplies. You save up constantly for this exact reason— for the ability to buy whatever your heart desires whenever it desires it. You dip your toes into whatever interests you, and all concepts of Art satisfies you more than anything. Writing whatever you desire, taking pictures of the things you find beautiful, painting whatever you want— it gives you the control that fuels you more than anything else.
The art shop by your university is quaint, always quiet and never very full, yet always filled with high quality supplies and fully stocked. You’ve made friends with the old lady who owns it and her daughter, constantly going there just to buy something in order to catch up with them on whatever has happened since your last visit. They’re like the mother and sister you never had, people who feel more like family than your own. It’s partly for that reason that you’ve made the trek there, hoping to get some advice for the things you’ve been feeling before going to the party that’s undoubtedly being held by the one group of people you despise.
The bells above the door jingle when you step in, and you let the smell of paint, chalk, crayons, pens, and faint air freshener soothe you. It’s just as cluttered as it’s always been— stacks upon stacks of sketchbooks and canvases on one side situated next to the easels and small desks. The paints have a section of their own, oil, watercolor, acrylic, matte, and more— on the opposite side there’s pens and crayons, colored pencils, oil pastels, and sharpeners of all shapes and sizes.
The walls are covered in paint as if before bringing in all the items they’d had fun splattering the walls in color. It’s messy, unruly, cluttered, and barely organized— so it doesn’t make sense to you why it comforts you so much. When you see a small form hobble out from behind a stack of books a smile forms unbiddenly on your face, and the small old lady smiles back.
“I missed you, dear,” She scolds, wrapping you up in a hug. “It’s been too long since you’ve come to visit.”
“I know, I’ve just been busy Ms. Yang. I missed you.” You sigh, rubbing your nose in the soft fabric of her sweater. She smells like paint and flowers— she smells like home.
“Sam will be here soon, she’d love to see you.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice. I need to talk to her too.”
“I can tell, child. You look stressed.” She sighs, shuffling behind the counter and sitting on one of the other seats behind it. “Get what you’re looking for,” She says waving a hand dismissively towards you.” I won’t make you explain it twice.”
You huff lightheartedly, making your way over to the canvases and picking one of medium proportions. You’re still not sure what it is you want to paint, but you know whatever you’re feeling is strong enough that you grab Oil paint, needing something rich and vibrant and something sharper to contrast the muddled and cloudy image of your mind.
It’s before long that you settle on a brand you normally buy, and the set of bells signal someone’s arrival into the shop. You turn your head, expecting to see Sam and her long curly hair, beautiful in its volume and her tawny brown skin, but instead you’re greeted with the sight of straight brown hair, swept behind the ears of a tall man, a mole under his eye and the reason for all your problems. You don’t know why you react the way you do, but with your items cradled in your hand you sprint behind a large stack of sketchbooks and hold your breath, staring with wide eyes at the cans of paint at your feet.
What the fuck is Hwang Hyunjin doing at your shop? This is your safe place— your safe haven. A part of you curses the ground he walks on, hopes that the store is too messy and cluttered for his liking, prays that he proves he’s as shallow as the company he keeps and that he leaves and doesn’t come back. Another part of you hates yourself for being so ridiculous. For letting your personal feelings about him delve so far that you’d think something like that. Sam and Mrs.Yang deserve the business, deserve the money, deserve the customers. You shouldn’t hope for anything different— but it still amazes you how he never fails to intrude on the things you hold dear. To intrude on the things you want to keep to yourself.
You don’t move from the spot you’re in. It could’ve been ten minutes, an hour, even, or maybe it was only thirty seconds, but you only peek out when you hear Sam’s voice ring through the shop. You survey the room, stepping out from your hiding spot when you confirm that Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. Though, you don’t think you could’ve hid regardless by the way Sam calls your name.
“Hi, Sammy,” You smile, coming up to pull her into a hug. She grips you tightly, her kinky hair tickling your cheek and her clothes smelling faintly of vanilla and roses. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, hun,” Sam smiles, albeit a little sadly as she looks over your face. “What’s wrong?”
“Hey, don’t leave a poor old lady out,” Mrs. Yang huffs, “Come over here and tell us both about it.”
Without even saying anything they’ve already cheered you up, your steps feeling lighter as you make your way behind the counter and sit on one of the three seats. You sit between them both, their eyes set patiently but concerningly on you.
“I don’t know, really,” You start, and then, you tell them. About your argument with Seungmin, about how lonely it is feeling like you’re the only one feeling this way, about how much the site angers you— how it makes you feel. You tell them about Hyunjin, about how he doesn’t stop bothering you no matter how much you make it obvious you don’t want his company. How much that frustrates you, as well, and about how the lack of control over the entire situation, and over the CSC’s place in your life makes you uncomfortable, and about how the CSC itself makes you feel things you’ve never felt before and how much that scares you. You can barely describe the way it does, and who else can you blame besides its creators.
When you’re done it feels like you’ve vented a lifelong event, it makes a heavy weight lift itself off your shoulders and the heavy silence that remains doesn’t feel like judging, but rather them trying to understand— soaking up the meaning of every word you said in an attempt to place themselves in your shoes.
“I think,” Sam starts, “That your cluelessness about your feelings towards the site in general turns into anger, and the fact that the boy,”
“Hyunjin”, You offer.
“Yes, I think his attempts at speaking to you only worsen it somehow, like you’re being cornered by this weird feeling that you don’t understand and it makes you even angrier.”
“You said your friend is a part of it?” Mrs.Yang interjects, a wrinkly hand kneading your shoulder.
“Yeah,” You murmur, “He’s good friends with the group and he loves the website.”
“That probably doesn’t help then,” She continues, “If you’re surrounded by people who know what they like or enjoy something you don’t like or don’t understand, of course you’re going to feel angry. You feel like the odd one out.”
“I think more than anything you need to figure out if it’s really anger you’re feeling, and if the only reason why you hate this website is not because of its purpose but because of your lack of control over it.” Sam finishes.
“I can’t say I agree with it either,” Mrs.Yang grunts, “It’s not something I think college students need to be worrying about. Things like that stick with you, but it’s their choice to indulge in it, Y/n, you can’t control that.”
You sigh. You guess so, but you still feel like you need to get rid of it. You’ve been slacking, not paying attention to it as much as you should because of all the chaos it’s creating. It’s been a while since you’ve done a petition or made a list of ideas as an attempt to shut it down, but for now it seems like enough to just hate it. They can’t change your mind. Not Seungmin, not Sam, not Jieun, not Mrs.Yang, not Chan or Changbin or Minho— not any of them, and especially not Hyunjin. You just want to be hateful in peace and you don’t know why you don’t seem to be allowed to do that.
You leave the shop feeling lighter, but also like you didn’t actually get any good advice. Sure they validated your feelings, but that’s it. You’ve been trying to figure out your feelings. You know why you’re frustrated, and even though it felt good to be validated it also felt like a waste. You hold the bag of art supplies closer to you as you walk. The sun is setting, painting the sky reds, and oranges, and purples— and you think maybe you’ll paint that. To represent the end of the turmoil that surrounds you, as something hopeful.
You relish in the soft slope of your shoulders, in the relaxation you so rarely feel nowadays, and walk briskly to your dorm so you can fall into your bed and try to forget about the fact that there’s a party you’re supposed to be at tomorrow.
And as if the thought brought it on, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out quicker than you’d ever admit and a relieved smile pulls on your lips when you see it’s from Seungmin.
pup: be ready by 9
you: ok!!!!!
you: i miss you
There’s no more responses but you don’t let that dampen your mood. He still wants you to go with him and that says enough. You do feel terrible about the way you acted— the way you’ve been acting— but you know it’s justified. You’re not irrational. Not at all.
If you collapse at the foot of your bed, art supplies sitting on the floor by your feet, and a paper by your head titled #686, no one has to know.
This Saturday has not been a day of relaxation for you. You didn’t have any plans, though instead of enjoying the peace you so rarely received, the day consisted of you running around your room with a frazzled energy following behind like a ghost. At first you contemplated showing up in a sweater and jeans; no makeup, no jewelry, just you and a lazy fit— but realized that would only bring you even more stares than if you dressed as slutily as possible.
It’s with a black leather mini skirt and a black, lacy, low cut long sleeve tucked inside that you finally allow yourself to relax. You’re probably dressed way too flashily for a college party, but you can’t entertain any thoughts like that or you’ll spend the next three hours obsessing over it— and that’s three hours that you don’t have. Knee length boots stare at you from the door and it’s with a sigh that you walk to the door and put them on.
There’s more reasons to be nervous than just the party, between the inevitable walk with Seungmin to the encounter you’re most definitely going to have with the CSC and all of its users, you’re out of your element. There’s not enough deep breaths to make you calm down, there’s no method available to help clear your mind. Your heart races much more than should be healthy. It feels like hell, even, and all you can do is let this plethora of nerves run its course.
When your phone buzzes with Seungmin’s ‘I’m outside’ text, it almost feels like your heart stops. Fuck, Seungmin’s gonna ask who you’re all dressed up for, gonna ask why you’re so nervous. Why are you all dressed up? Why are you even going? It’s too much, too much of not knowing, not understanding, not feeling right. What will it take to get you to feel right? Like in freshman year when your biggest worry was whether or not you were passing your classes, now it feels like that's a lifetime ago. Like you’ve encountered way too much to even consider anything like that— not that you need to worry about it anyway. It was supposed to be a carefree year for you. You’re always on top of your responsibilities, always prepared, and nothing ever changed that until you went on that site for the first and last time.
You stop, relax your shoulders, take a deep breath that’s otherwise pointless, and step out the door. You curse the day you ever went on that website. It’s why everything is all messed up now, but you rid those thoughts from your mind. You’re determined to have fun tonight no matter what, and no matter who’s there.
Seungmin waits at the door, A button-down hanging off his shoulders and jeans. His hair is combed back and he’s ditched the glasses.
“Hey.” It comes out meeker than you’d like, a little too timid for what your relationship with Seungmin is.
“Hey,” he smiles, the braces you love so much on full display. Your best friend is beautiful, and it’s with a pang to your chest, it’s with seeing him now— so welcoming and so normal with you— that a small part of you realizes maybe you have been being irrational. Maybe you have been acting too strongly, but then you remind yourself that you’ve never been irrational. Never.
“So I’m guessing we’re going to the CSC’s dorm?”
“You’ll fit right in,” Seungmin laughs, starting to walk. You struggle to catch up to him; it’s been so long since you last wore heels that it’s hard to get used to. You don’t grace his comment with an answer, simply relishing in the soft nightly breeze and the shine of the moon. The stars glitter from above you, light years away yet so visible. So sure of their stance in life. You don’t think stars blow up at their best friends, or feel confused, or feel lonely.
You arrive at the party all too soon. From a block away you could see people drunk, staggering in the same direction, and from down the street you could hear the bass of the music, but the warning signs weren’t nearly enough to prepare you for the actual sight of it. It’s like the typical house parties you’d see on TV, but louder and more nerve-wracking. People hang out in front, the music loud enough for them to enjoy even from outside the building. Lights flash from behind the window, an array of purples, greens, reds, and blues. You can see people's shadows from behind the curtains over the front windows, and you feel like you’re about to throw up.
“Oh god,” You mumble, taking a few shaky steps inside. You can't do this. You’re gonna freak out and embarrass yourself. You can almost feel the anxiety seeping from your pores, and the word no repeats over and over in your head like a mantra.
No no no no no.
You can’t do this, but you do it anyway. Stepping inside the party is a feat in itself, and you can’t tell if your hands are shaking from the strong bass of the music or because of pure anxiety. The music knocks into your body so strongly that your knees buckle, barely able to hold you upright. At any moment you feel like you might collapse.
You can’t do it but you do it anyway, taking one step and then another, and when the door closes behind you, you resist the urge to turn back and run away. The party is full of people— so full that it’s impossible to walk anywhere without bumping into someone, and despite your best efforts you do get stares. Whether it’s because of what you’re wearing or if it’s because it’s you at a party being held by the CSC… you’re not entirely sure. You don’t think it makes a difference. You try to ignore it, act unbothered, and it must work because after a while they look away, murmuring something or the other about what you’re doing there.
Seungmin drags you away from the door and to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets like it’s his home. You take in the somewhat chill vibe of the kitchen compared to everywhere else. It’s not nearly as full, but there are couples at opposite ends acting as if it isn’t a place where food is kept.
You take a few deep breaths, reassure yourself that you can do this, and even if you can’t you’ll do it anyway. Seungmin doesn’t say anything, just pours you something sweet and fruity in a red cup and hands it over with a raise of his eyebrows. You drink it way too quickly and you know you’re gonna regret it later, but you need the effect it’ll bring. The faux calmness that’ll help you get through the night. Though with how full the party is you think that you won’t be able to see the hosts anytime soon if at all, and that’s enough to bring your heart to a stuttering stop before it resumes its beating in a much more slow paced manner. You’re still not calm, but you’re doing your best.
“Try to relax,” Seungmin chides, his gaze heavy where it bores into you. “Everything will be just fine.”
You nod, taking a more calculated sip of your drink this time. You let the music relax you instead of startle you— focusing on the beats and the melody— on the lyrics, instead of the volume and how it makes your body tremble. You can do this.
When you finally feel like you’re able to relax, Seungmin parts from you, saying there’s some people he has to see. You’re an adult, so you can handle being alone for a few minutes. Eventually, though, the few minutes turn into something longer. You wonder if maybe Seungmin is still upset with you— you didn’t speak much about it on the walk like you thought you would. Honestly, it was mostly silence, and you didn’t think much of it before but you are now. You hold your drink close to your chest, dubbing it your life line for the night.
You last all of thirty minutes before you feel like you’re getting too hot— the building only gets even more stuffy as more people arrive, all of you packaged like a can of sardines. You take the fleeting burst of confidence to leave the kitchen and go to the backyard, hoping that it’ll be a bit more peaceful (as peaceful as possible considering the music blasting), and allow the fresh air to graze your skin like a soft blanket. You sit down on one of the benches in the backyard, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. What will it take to feel at peace? Maybe there’s nothing you can do. And it’s with these thoughts that you do exactly what you shouldn’t do at a party, wallowing in self pity and confusion. You’re so caught up in these thoughts that you don’t notice when someone else joins you.
“Hey, bug.”
Your head whips up faster than what’s comfortable, and you barely hide the wince that struggles to leave your lips. Hyunjin speaks again before you can respond.
“Don’t leave, alright. Please?” He asks, sitting down beside you and smoothing his hands over his pants. “Can we talk?”
“About?”
“About us? About you? I’m tired of running in circles and I want to know why you hate me— the CSC so much.”
You’re silent for a moment, contemplating, thinking. You should get up, leave the backyard and this party altogether. You should ignore whatever it is Hyunjin has to say because he’s the reason for all this, right? Why is he always pretending he doesn’t know; acting like he wants to get to know you? Acting like it really matters how you feel. Everyone wants to understand, everyone wants to know why, but you don’t even know— but you’ll never admit it outright. You’ll never say the one thing that’s been your driven principle for the past year is something you’re unsure about. All you know is that it’s bad, that it’s made you feel ways that were foreign to you, and in order to regain control you need to get rid of it. No matter how anyone else feels about it, no matter who gets upset with you along the way. You need to do it.
Your voice is soft, but not meek. For once, you’re gonna get this entire experience off your chest. “When I first went on the site in the beginning of freshman year I was curious,” You start, glancing at Hyunjin and feeling the tightness in your chest return when you realize he’s already looking at you. “At first, I was curious, and then I was confused. I clicked on a few videos— I scrolled for a while— and I started to get this weird feeling. The more I watched the videos, the more I scrolled through pictures and posts, the feeling got stronger.”
You feel so stupid, but you continue. If Hyunjin makes fun of you he’s just proving your assumptions correct. “I’d never felt that way before and honestly, it kinda scared me, and it was annoying that I didn’t understand it. I didn’t do anything after that. I ignored how fast my heart was beating, how my body was reacting, and never went on that site again. Slowly, that confusion turned into anger— it’s not normal. The way I felt wasn’t normal, and that’s why I think that site needs to get shut down.”
“Bug…” Hyunjin laughs a little and you want to be offended, but you can tell it’s more shock than amusement. “Bug have you ever had sex? Or.. touched yourself at all?”
Your mouth opens and closes comically, but Hyunjin is patient, waiting and watching carefully for you to speak. “Is that what’s important?” You finally say, your eyebrows furrowed and you’re ready to defend yourself if need be. “No, I haven’t.”
“God, bug this is…” Hyunjin squints at you, “I think you were aroused.”
You splutter, feeling your heart rate spike in embarrassment. “What!? No. No.”
“That weird feeling? That heat in your gut,” Hyunjin says, and to punctuate he lays a large, warm, hand over your stomach. “You were horny.” This time, Hyunjin’s laugh is one of amusement, but you're too distracted by how big his hand is, splayed over your stomach and so warm it feels like it’s burning through your clothes.
“Hyunjin, the feeling— no, it doesn’t make sense.”
“Bug, if you’ve never ever been aroused before somehow, of course it felt weird. Holy shit.”
You don’t say anything, but Hyunjin continues before you can get a grip on your thoughts.
“I can’t believe this is the reason why you’ve hated us for so long, I honestly can’t believe it.”
“Hyunjin… that feeling wasn’t pleasurable. Control is pleasurable. I didn’t have a grip on anything that day and barely regained it on the days following. You can’t convince me that getting rid of the CSC won’t bring back a sense of normalcy. You can’t, and even if you’re right, I think that morally, the site is still wrong, and I’m not going to stop trying to shut it down.”
“There’s so much about the CSC you don’t know about, and there’s so much more to pleasure than control.” Hyunjin sighs, clearly more at ease now that he realizes you’re just confused. You don’t know, really, why you hate them. That’s clear. You’re stubborn though, he can tell, and even if this idea he has works— he’s not sure you’ll stop until you get what you want.
Earlier that day the CSC received an email from the dean, threatening that they’ll start looking into all that their site entails because of how often you keep badgering them about it. It’s starting to create a murmur between staff, and they’re growing increasingly frustrated. All that means to Hyunjin is you’re finally breaking through their resolve, running them down enough for them to consider shutting it down or supervising more intensely. Hyunjin can’t have that. None of them can. When Hyunjin approached you tonight he expected to have to beg— to have to plead with you to stop meddling. The site is bigger than you know, more important than some college stupidity. It rakes in a lot of cash, and he can’t have such petty reasoning stop that flow.
Hyunjin’s voice is husky as he continues and his words send an undeniable shiver down your spine “I can show you that the site, and sex by association aren’t bad at all. Mentally, you’re confused and physically, you’re pent up. We can’t have that can we, pretty girl?”
“No, we can’t.”
Wait. What? Yes, we can. Yes you can. You’ve been doing just fine right? You don’t need Hyunjin’s help. He’s not gonna change your mind because your mind doesn’t need changing.
“You can try to shut us down, but at the same time let us help you.”
“Us?” You murmur, attempting to understand what exactly is happening.
“All of us, the CSC can help you figure out what you’re feeling, right? We can help you decide what to do.”
“…You can help me?”
Hyunjin hums, removing his hand from your waist and trailing his finger along the skin just above the hem of your shirt. His fingers dip over your cleavage, tug at your necklace, up and up until your chin is in his hand, and he turns you to face him as his lips brush your cheek. “I want to see who will succeed first, so let me show you that there’s more to pleasure than control.”
He can help you. Out of all the people who ask you why, who say they want to understand but don’t try, he’s the one who’s offering a solution. As annoying as he’s always been to you, as much as he’s always embodied something you hate— the person who’s embedded such foreign feelings in your mind— he wants to help you. He wants to try, and he’s not telling you to stop your goal either. He’s not telling you it’s stupid, he’s not getting angry. He doesn’t make you feel irrational. You’re not irrational. You have a goal and it’s one you’re gonna complete, but… it doesn’t hurt to try, right? And if you succeed, if you shut them down and Hyunjin fails— if the CSC fails you’ll win. You’ll win and prove that you were right all along.
“Go easy on me.”
“Of course, bug.”
You keep your eyes downcast in embarrassment as Hyunjin whispers against your skin, his fingers gently turning your chin up and over to the point of focus. His lips. Pouty, sinfully crimson, curving upwards so surely, like they themselves know their effect on people. They look so soft, so wet. You want to feel them, and it’s as if Hyunjin’s read your mind because his lips are on yours before you can even blink.
“You just kissed me,” Your voice is airy, breathless, and usually you’d be embarrassed.
“Can I do it again?”
There’s a simmering, boiling tension both of you have been ignoring but you’ve lost the will to care about hating Hyunjin or Chan or the CSC. Momentarily, you’ve lost the will to feel much at all but a burning desire to take away any negative emotion you feel. You’re sick of it, sick of feeling confused. Last night you’d dealt with it by crying your eyes out, before that you’d dealt with it by having a screaming match with your best friend, and now you’re ready to look for something to fix it. This just might be the best way to start.
“Not outside.” You whisper, your hands clutching the fabric of Hyunjin’s shirt with such an intensity you’re afraid it’ll rip off then and there.
The trip inside and upstairs is a blur. You’re sure if anyone saw you they stared, wondering what you two were doing together, wondering what you were going upstairs for. It’s a blur, nothing is clear but what you’re going to do at this moment, and with Hwang Hyunjin of all people. Of what you’re going to do in the future, with the CSC of all people, what you’re gonna do to them— what you’re gonna allow them to do to you— that’s the only thing on the forefront of your mind. Not about who’s watching, not about who wants to know. It’s about you. You’re the one in control, you’re the one who gets to decide. You’re the one who needs to know.
Warm. You feel warm all over, pressed against Hyunjin with his thighs spreading yours open, warm in his tight embrace. Your hands are clutching at his clothes, at his arms— It’s so hot, yet somehow the constant cool air of the room makes you shiver.
“W-what do I do?”
Hyunjin chuckles, his voice the softest you’ve ever heard it. “You don’t have to do anything, pretty. Let me handle it.”
Letting Hyunjin handle anything doesn’t sound like a very good idea to you in any instance, but in this case you let him. You’re otherwise clueless in this area and frankly, if you want his help you’re going to have to accept it when it’s given. His mouth lands back on yours, a certain kind of desire running through the kiss. His hands are all over you. Trying to grab at every inch he can, and you try your best to kiss him back with equal intensity— to move your lips against his with the same fervor.
Your heart kicks up an irritating notch when Hyunjin slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold. And if Hyunjin had imagined this during late nights, cock shamelessly fisted in his hand as he dreamt of you pushing your panties to the side for him to enter your tight hole, no one has to know.
“Look at me, pretty,” Hyunjin growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with a foreign intensity. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a small burst of confidence, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for another kiss. It’s a little awkward with your inexperience, all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. His lips feel like heaven and you want them everywhere, want to kiss him forever. You want to sink his soft groans into your skin, keep the taste of him on your tongue for the rest of your days as he licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into blissful dizziness.
"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," Hyunjin teases, pressing your thighs farther apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again. "I don’t think you really hate me, bug.”
Your breath hitches when his hands move to your skirt, slipping under the hem and holding the fabric tightly. God, you feel so bare. Like Hyunjin is looking at you from the inside out. When he pulls your skirt down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, his warmth. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Hyunjin lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold. You’re so sensitive. So, so sensitive.
His hands grip your waist tightly and his lips trail upwards, the bridge of his nose pushing your shirt up until it’s so high your breasts threaten to fall, smothering Hyunjin’s face underneath them. You shiver at the thought, those sinful lips pressing kisses against the skin of your breasts; what would it feel like? Would it feel like this? This feeling that you’re still so unfamiliar with?
"Pretty girls deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Hyunjin starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. You didn’t know you could make sounds like that. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Did you come to impress someone tonight?” Hyunjin murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.
You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Hyunjin’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the bedding at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.
“You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.
“Yes.”
It’s breathless. It’s not you. It’s not the person who wanted nothing to do with Hyunjin only a day ago, but you want answers. You want clarity. And right now, you want this.
Hyunjin wastes no time after your confirmation, his fingers slipping under your panties and ghosting over your skin. He lets out a harsh breath at the feeling where you’re otherwise silent, trusting that he knows what to do. When a rush of cool air blows over you though, your legs close instinctively, and Hyunjin hums, “Stay with me, bug.”
“I’m here,” You respond, slowly spreading your legs back wide and allowing him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off ur ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to cradle your cheek you lean into the warmth. It’s okay. You’re okay.
Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you for the first time.
A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect Hyunjin— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to help you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.
The man before you reaches his other hand towards the hem of your top to pinch the edge of it between an index finger and thumb, and pulls the cloth away from your skin.
His eyes bore into yours: “This okay?”
“Fuck, the more you ask me the more nervous I get.”
“Okay, okay. I don’t wanna make you nervous.”
“Just… be nice to me, Hyunjin. Okay?”
Hyunjin smiles, and you exhale, relaxing into Hyunjin’s sheets and letting his musky cologne consume your senses as his touch roams everywhere else.
And then finally— yet all too quickly— the shirt is tugged away from your breasts and they fall freely as Hyunjin eagerly leans closer. His nose presses against one of your hardened nipples, and you watch his pupils dilate quicker than you thought was possible. He’s barely holding back the urge to fuck you dumb, and the finger that still thrusts slowly into your cunt stutters in its movements.
Look at you. His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly let his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it— looking all innocent— being all innocent but acting like you’re not. Like you’re so sure. You’re confused, god, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Hyunjin’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at your through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.
He dipped his head down, holding your breast in his large hand and rubbing over your nipples with his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. Your hands automatically perched themselves on his shoulders, and he grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.
“Oh, god,” You moan, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slight. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.
He groans, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He wanted to do this right— show you all that pleasure could be. He moved his mouth from your nipple to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.
“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”
“Oh- oh Hyunjin help me, please,” You pleaded, his shoulders too far to grip onto; your hands instead finding his hair, running your fingers through and pulling when he nosed at your clit, groaning heartily when your wetness clinged to his skin.
It’s with a lick to your clit that you wail, your thighs threatening to close, and they would have if Hyunjin’s hands hadn’t reached out to force them down, pushing further and sticking his face into your arousal with more fervor, licking and sucking with such vigor that it felt as if he was trying to devour you. Your thighs trembled with every movement of his tongue, poking and prodding at every inch of your cunt, his nose dug against your clit and for a moment it felt like you were seeing stars. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth letting out uncontrollable moans.
You didn’t think it’d feel this good. But, you remind yourself, control feels better. You can’t let him change that— he won’t change that.
The obscene sounds that came from his actions should’ve embarrassed you, but nothing like that came to mind. Hyunjin was relentless, and you couldn’t even think of anything more than the feeling of his hair between your fingers and his tongue slurping at your cunt.
You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.
Besides control, of course. And you assume, the eradication of the CSC would, also.
Suddenly, your stomach tenses, your body locking up, and you quickly cream all over his tongue, shaky moans slipping through your pretty lips. Your thighs shook from the aftershock, trying to come down from this feeling. Afterwards, Hyunjin’s actions felt too harsh. He didn’t change pace at all, but it felt like your body was going to arch its way into oblivion. Unable to ignore the sensitivity of your body any longer, you pushed against his head until he stopped, attempting to catch your breath.
“You okay?”
You hum, begging the beating of your heart to soften, though as soon as it finally did you looked back at Hyunjin and saw his pants sliding down his legs. His toned, muscular legs, and it started its harsh beating once again. That wasn’t it? Of course, that’s wasn’t it, but fuck. You don’t know if you can handle anything more.
The headboard of his bed knocks against the wall as he climbs back up on the bed, moving his body closer this time and instead of only his chest hovering over you, this time his legs cage you in, one on either side, as your heart pounds itself into oblivion.
One hand supported his weight on the pillow by your head while the other was preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stared down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groaned. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever Hyunjin would come bother you. It intensifies when Hyunjin wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging the bedding from under you and you yelp.
He rubs the tip of his cock against your twitching folds, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you.
“Relax,” Hyunjin murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Stay with me.”
You do your best, forcing your body to relax, as he sinks deeper and deeper still. Hyunjin grunts softly when you clench down on him, and he sighs as you blink dazedly up at him.
Pretty eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Hyunjin watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his sweat slicken forehead, and he sinks back into your slick walls with another languid roll of his hips.
“Fuck you’re so tight, baby.”
You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Hyunjin’s chest expands with a shaky breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your virgin cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper than his playful one. Tonight you’re seeing a whole new side of him— a new persona. This isn’t the annoying Hwang Hyunjin who bothers you and calls you ‘bug’, this is the Hwang Hyunjin everyone else knows. The one you hadn’t met yet.
“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the sheets.
Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Hyunjin moans—every twitch and squeeze of your pussy leaving him breathless. “Come on, baby,” He pleads, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and Hyunjin’s groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all Hyunjin. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.
He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And again, you feel that strange feeling before tensing up, your body convulsing and arching up as Hyunjin’s thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the mattress and Hyunjin’s weight cases you in.
You feel boneless, lethargic with your movement. You feel when Hyunjin gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwater back on. You hear it when he sighs, something light and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. You can’t do much more than sigh, but it seems like enough for him— like that was the exact answer he was looking for. You succumb to blissful sleep right before the door shuts behind Hyunjin.
“Hear me out,” Hyunjin sighs, a lazy smile on his features even still. You’re no joke even if you might not know it yet. “I think it could really work.”
“You want us to convince Y/n to what? Leave us alone or..?” Jeongin says, leaning against the table in the kitchen.
The party has long been over, there’s a mess everywhere but it’s empty except for the eight boys and you knocked out in Hyunjin’s bed. Jisung sits sprawled on the couch, head twisted ever so slightly to betray that he’s listening to the conversation, Jeongin leans against the table and Chan has his arms folded where he leans against the wall serving as the entrance between the kitchen and the living room.
Minho downs a bottle of water by the sink, and Changbin leans against the fridge, leveling Hyunjin with an intense look. Felix and Seungmin sit on the couch opposite Jisung where they have a full view of everything and everyone.
“She barely even knows what porn is, so I said I could convince her the site isn’t that bad— and is something she could grow to like, if not love.” Hyunjin explains, his eyebrows raising in wait for the retaliation that’s sure to come.
“Why should we?” Minho asks, with a swallow, “If she doesn’t like it, honestly what does it matter.” Heads nod in agreement.
“Listen, they’re starting to consider whatever the fuck she’s selling them at those little meetings, and I got an email about investigation if this keeps up. If we fail to change her mind, we can at least distract her enough for the heat to lessen a little.”
Chan nods, “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” He shrugs, looking over at everyone in the kitchen. “We change her mind, then we got one less problem to deal with.”
“And if we don't?” Changbin asks, tilting his head at both Hyunjin and Chan. “And if this is just a waste of time?”
“It isn’t,” Hyunjin assures, “Trust me.”
The rest of them don’t argue, but Hyunjin feels Seungmin’s gaze boring into him from the couch, feels his questions burning at the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out, so he leaves before they can succeed.
“We can talk about it more later, but I think it’ll work. It’s a good deed, and I know how much you guys love those.” Some scoffs and laughs fill the room, but Hyunjin is already halfway up the stairs, a plan forming in his mind and a pleasant smile growing on his face.
a note from iris: this chapter was late because of that long ass smut scene so i hope it was enjoyable and that this wasn’t 17k worth of a snoozefest 😭 i’m sorry it’s late!! so sorry but it’s still friday even if it’s 11 pm <3<3 not beta read not nothin so pls.. spare me.. and i hope you liked it !!!
not-so-mini taglist (there’s so many of y’all !!???): @chrisbahng @seonghwatoothless @bubblelixie @199719932000 @imsuchasimp00 @hyu-hl @oddinaryfelix @raspbinniecreme @fa3body @kittykatkrissa @andreaswrld @hattorihaechan @lachinitaaaaa @j-0ne25 @bangchanbabygirlx @ni-sh @green-orangeade @sincerely-skz @exclusivej3ss @elizalabs3 @lili-kims-blog @curiousgworge @midsoulz @sawadabegum @reighlee-greaves @lotus-dly @blcar @impossiblewritingrebel @yourhwngness @idek-at-this-point-lol @multihoe-net @hyun-bun @hwan-g @ughbehavior @rindomo @awesomelycoolworld @springdeity @todolyn @meowminhosblog @hyunelixies @emotionalwreckkk-blog @seungschacco @avyskai @cvfechan @jeyelleohe @vvsmydiamonds127 @chriscentric @simpforpunzngl @be-a-spacequeen @svintsandghosts @myjisung @hanjiesgf
*** if your tag didn’t work make sure your blog is visible! if i somehow missed you when tagging i offer a sincere apology <3
#hyunjin scenarios#skz smut#skz scenarios#stray kids x reader#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x female reader#hyunjin smut#hyunjin angst#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin imagines#skz x reader
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tell me your name (tesso and seonhee headcanons 2/3)
they moved out of the way so i could take a picture of mt. fuji -> loose recreation of this image
hi !! i thought i’d finish this tesso and seonhee (separate and together) headcanon masterpost. it covers their individual backstory, how they met and how their relationship grew.
btw i made another headcanon masterpost about the liumang here 🤩 it wouldn't be a bad idea to read it before this one !
i warn that this is the ultimate yapping session LOL so it's long and very image heavy OOPS! there are more than 30 images, i wanted to add more but will stop there for now. check the bottom of the post for some straightforward headcanons (and a TLDR).
also, please pretend the entire timeline makes sense.....i won't beat myself over ageless characters not fitting 100% with documented events 😭 (imo seonhee is 34 and tesso is 37 currently) nvm my guess for seonhee but tesso is surely 37
also, the two fics i wrote heavily tie to this (don't mind the last one). i won't say you need to read them to understand, but i recommend reading them (BC I COOKED!) it'll be linked when needed.
- wang tielin
not completely accurate because he shouldn't have his scars but i'm too lazy to re-do the texture from scratch... sorry tielin 💔
birth name is wang tielin
born in japan. lived in the countryside with his uncle for the longest he could remember.
vowed to his childhood friend to live on the straight and narrow no matter what (hahaha)
a promise to keep was to become rich and share with their family when they grow up.
went to school just because, but had no plans nor dreams in particular. never stirred trouble.
was always kinda bland, but made an effort to become and dress "cooler" after coming to kamurocho (look at the fit please 😭 it was definitely a phase). this is part of the stuff tesso left behind (including his real name). would've preferred no one he knows today met him during that time.
zhao tried time and time again to make tesso show him pictures of him when he was younger but tesso claims to have none. zhao even got seonhee on the task and was ready to put down a good chunk of cash to make it happen. unfortunately for him, tesso was a nobody that truly came out of nowhere according to the geomijul (seonhee just lied 🤩 sorry tianyou).
-> long before the liumang
he came from some city in the country side where nothing really happens. his aunt and uncle took care of him and sent went to school. he was expected to take on his uncle’s restaurant since he was helping out from time to time and that’s what his uncle wanted anyway.
how can i put it… as long he found a way to feed himself and have a roof over his head, he didn’t have a goal to attain (like a goal career or whatever). he had no aspirations as in “i guess i’ll live” 😍
though, he had a close friend called liwei. they spent most of their time at school and outside together doing whatever. unlike tesso, liwei had big dreams of finally making it out go the “boring” countryside and establishing himself in a big city, becoming the wealthiest person of his family to provide for his parents. he had a passion about going to especially kamurocho because it was the complete opposite of their current lives. tesso's response to liwei was mostly -> “i support you!” he kinda admired liwei for having determined ambition.
-> a bit before the liumang
though, liwei ended up getting killed because a hit was ordered by a bunch of strangers on seemingly the wrong person. not a lot of clues were left behind, but tesso was adamant about it being a mistake since the two of them always swore on being on the straight and narrow (ironically).
so, tesso decided to leave his hometown in the countryside to find out what happened, who killed liwei and how the mix-up happened in the first place.
it lead him to many big cities (like kamurocho) though he navigated a bit clumsily with his words (talking a bit too carelessly about “i’m looking for such such that killed such and such, not knowing the type of place he was getting into), tesso ends up getting jumped by the local chinese mafia at least twice 😭 the clues he finds leads him into yokohama and bro gets jumped again 😭
all to figure out the true culprit was guys from yokohama's chinatown and going up front to them was the worst idea ever. instead, he joins the liumang (at first for refuge as outsider chinese people were vulnerable to trouble between seiryu/liumang and liumang/chinatown). then, in hopes of giving another meaning to his life and eventually seek justice for liwei’s murder.
-> in the liumang
won't go too much in detail here, but tesso ends up being recruited personally by zhao as a liumang officer through a fight - given the exploit of him being able to scratch his jacket with his claws (and zhao scratched his face across his nose and cheeks with his sabre 😍)
- sakura, the number one hostess
long ago in kamurocho, seonhee used to be an hostess called sakura. remnants of the jingweon mafia rejected by mainland and local koreans (that later formed the geomijul) survived the best they could with low-level information dealing. they used cabaret clubs to get info out of the local population.
moving left and right with her mother, it was lucrative enough for her to be able to fend for the two of them — even if it was temporary, she would be doing it until they’d be able to find some sort of stability.
eventually, the cabaret club was disbanded due to more prominent gangs taking over kamurocho, basically forcing the geomijul out of the city (to later end up yokohama).
in the move, the geomijul was very unstable; most members falling into despair as they were forced out of of home one more time.
seonhee was one of the few people to step up to rally the remaining people together. if they were wavering in the faith of surviving their predicament, the geomijul wouldn't even survive. she did everything she could to make sure fellow members wouldn't walk astray and find them a new home.
being one of people that proposed lodging the geomijul between the seiryu clan and the liumang and reprise their information dealing activities. it was through her sheer determination and in the success of securing the geomijul in yokohama that seonhee was made leader (despite being that young and a woman) jumping over all the oldheads.
fun fact, after leaving the cabaret club, she vowed to herself to never do that type of work ever again.
- meeting for the first time in kamurocho
bro came dressed like that to the luxury club 😭 first timer spotted!! fresh meat here!!!!!!
one promise he made to himself was to realize one of liwei’s dreams, no matter how futile it was. so, he gathered most of his money and decided to light it up for one night in kamurocho in his honour. he ended up going to the first cabaret club he laid eyes on - the one owned by the geomijul.
given the way he was dressed (lol) and the fact he had never been in the city before, seonhee (the number one hostess at the time) was tasked of tending his table. she usually handled the most "suspicious" customers.
that's what she thought at first, but past their initial talk, she really did find out he was just young random dude trying out the cabaret clubs for the first time.
“is it your first time here?” “yeah, there isn’t stuff like this where i live” and so on. funny enough, he turned the conversation back on her a lot so she could ramble about the city and the type of work she did (life in the countryside is boring and uneventful anyway). it caused her to indirectly talk about the geomijul — tesso couldn’t know, her words still applied to the cabaret club dynamic. “the streets are competitive so we are working hard to stay on top!” and how teamwork was the most important thing at the end of the day, etc.
they had a good time talking and tesso was glad to find out city girls were so friendly. he had the impression that he’d be eaten alive, but he was doing ok so far.
he touched briefly on the real reason he visited kamurocho (thought to himself it would defeat the purpose to not mention it). though, seonhee was smart to not make him linger on the subject by proposing to toast in his honor. tesso agreed, he was there to celebrate and she had made the right call.
[sorry for the lack of continuity here but i can't being myself to write more atm. will evetually expand that part into a fic.]
- meeting for the second time in yokohama
tesso was always one of the officers zhao relied on the most. for example, he was leading the men sent by zhao after nanba through the city.
so, after mabuchi's overturned coup-d'etat and seonhee taking over the liumang, zhao named tesso as the most reliable man under him and could definitely provide great support in mending the geomijul and liumang together - zhao assured seonhee she could rely on tesso to bridge the two factions.
seonhee was quick to recognize tesso right away, thinking hard about where she had seen such a familiar face before - and the options were very little. it didn't take long for her to realize that it was the same guy she met at the cabaret club years ago. she thought about playing it cool and pretending they never met before, "he probably forgot anyway" and it's not like she looks exactly the same as she did. but she couldn't really shake off the possibility of him remembering. still, she plays it off in front of zhao
for as long as tesso remembers, the geomijul was a very secretive organization and most liumang didn't even know who the boss was and what they looked like. so he rolled with the assumption of having never met them before. so, of course, when he officially met seonhee for the first time, he didn't recognize her. at least at first 😭
- the underworld post mabuchi
because of fusion of the underworld, there was a lot of re-structuring to (such as combining certain cashflows, identifying businesses to assign new leaders to look after them, etc.) it was challenging especially after mabuchi basically left the liumang in shambles and with a lot of defecting members.
tesso helped out sorting out the mess with seonhee personally; it was easier to go through everything with someone that new the ordeal from top to bottom (thanks to zhao). the little time they had was dedicated to fixing the whole organization. at that time, seonhee relegated a lot of leading responsibilities to joongi while tesso did the same with his subordinates.
that's all it was; hours in a corner of the geomijul (usually in the middle of the night) sorting through hundred of files.
at first, it was awkward. tesso had never seen who led the geomijul before and the reality was very far from this expectations. starting at the fact he didn't even thought the geomijul had a woman at its head because of the rumours running the liumang. a detail zhao never bothered bringing up before they met.
zhao's funky and malleable nature was replaced by something more rigid, stern at times but always stood on business. it was different, but tesso went along with it. her style was definitely gonna bring the liumang and geomijul back on its feet.
still, he spoke to her with the same clumsiness as he did with zhao. distant in his words, just like a subordinate should be to its leader. she didn't mind, especially when she did most of the talking anyway.
that's how their routine was at the start: meet, sort documents, leave — there wasn't anything else more to it.
but, something didn't feel quite right.
the more he heard her talk, the more he was sure to have met her before. the words she used, her tone... it felt so familiar. and he had plenty of time to think about it. there was no doubt, she definitely was that girl from the cabaret club...
he kept it to himself and vowed to pretend he's mistaken. the last thing he could do was to bring it up first and be wrong. he would continue to behave the same as he ever did. given their circumstances, he could assume she had left her old life behind as well.
though, irony seeped from his pores, it was stronger than him. the coincidence was a bit humorous; the two of them meeting again with different names and under these unlikely circumstances. he kept his stun under wraps - or at least tried to.
from lingering gazes when she wasn't looking to the way she held herself, tesso recalled the selfless woman he met long ago in kamurocho. despite the heavy facade she always wore, she played it off well, how, in the midst of her words, always passed others before herself.
even with her bolder style, and it's not like she changed much: she was still as beautiful as ever and had that unwavering aura fit of a born leader.
perhaps, he had made his realization too obvious.
ever since zhao presented tesso to seonhee, she knew they had met before. thus, sat quietly with the intent of pretending she was someone else. however, tesso's demeanour changed out of the blue. he seemed a bit more awkward and careful in his words.
though, seonhee resigned on pretending. "tesso? is that how you call yourself these days?" shortly followed with his real name. she asks, chuckling a bit. perhaps, he could've picked something more subtle. he did abandon his birth name for this alias he wasn't really sure whom give it to him. but it doesn't really matter. it just meant was a completely different man now.
it was a bit ironic; they are able to have to shy laugh about it, the ice is starting to melt between them.
- the bridge between the geomijul and yokohama liumang
overall, the union between the geomijul and liumang was welcome by its members. given the situation they both were in - one left without a leader and the other very vulnerable to outside threats. it was worth leaving residual animosity behind and cooperate for the sake of keeping yokohama safe.
so, antagonists to seonhee taking over after zhao were far and between - mainly geomijul oldheads (like seo hancheol 😍 rip bozo) and the few remaining mabuchi enjoyers (like zheng because yes in this timeline bro didn’t get banished out of yokohama).
so, not only did tesso assist seonhee in the merge of the two groups, but he kinda became for the liumang what joongi is for the geomijul: the first commander under the leader and first rep for the liumang. so, in case of trouble or any reference needed from geomijul members, they could ask him if needed. tesso is known to get along with younger folks (canon) so it helps a lot!
overall, the underworld is structured like this:
- factions subordinates (tesso and the geomijul)
yeona calls tesso liumang oppa 😭 she's the one that got tesso to read manga
i feel like yeona would get along well with these two LOL she can get info on joongi from tesso since they work on another level (joongi hides his cringy side from his subordinates). also, she tends to tease seonhee a bit about not being single anymore 😭 in a little sister-big sister type of way. bc like it's not like they ever announced anything, but yeona just picks up on vibes like that 😭 there's banter between seonhee and her, but it's in good faith!! there are so little women in the geomijul, so yeona made sure to stick with
"seonhee unnie, that's your boyfriend isn't it?" she didn't say that, but her eyes kinda did 😭 yeona always knows when something is up about her big sister. this whole exchange happened while tesso was reading his notes LOL 😭
well kinda... because now that seonhee is taken, han-sama (joongi) can stop worrying about seonhee's relationship status.
- advisor to advisor (tesso and joongi)
"Tha- That's not possible! She couldn't have a boyfriend! Some random man from who-knows-where!?" (direct canon quote istg 😭)
"some random man from who-knows-where" that's literally what tesso was to joongi for awhile.
of course, he knew tesso was one of the closest subordinates of zhao. but he wanted to dig out his history as much as he could before even asking zhao about it. surprise came when he didn’t find much out of the geomijul surveillance system — there was no way to know for sure how nor when he got in the city. however, joongi was adamant about not asking seonhee about it just yet.
sure, tesso and seonhee never announced they were together (for a very long time). but joongi picked up the smallest changes of seonhee's demeanour and her mannerisms. she tried her best to conceal it, but nothing went past his eye. and it was very clear to him... seonhee was indeed dating that random man.
at first, it was veiled concern but joongi believed seonhee could do better. he thought seonhee could aim for someone more or at least just as good looking than him (im sorry LOL but exhibit A) and someone as refined as her and not so… contradictory in looks and personality (tesso looks rough with a lot of distinctive features but is rather simple). so, first impression wise, it was off to a rocky start.
despite being the two most important members of the geomijul and liumang, joongi and tesso didn’t really get along. tesso thought joongi was arrogant and preferred dealing with his subordinates instead (like yeona with whom he was able to work well with).
“don’t mind han-sama. he’ll get over it eventually…” tesso still has no clue what she means by that
the impression of tesso and joongi not getting along wasn't setting a good example for the fellow geomijul and liumang members. while tesso was unsure about the whole thing, joongi struggled moving on for a bit. even seonhee wasn't sure of what was going on between the two.
it took yeona telling on joongi's business back to seonhee for her to set the record straight. no one knows for sure what she has said, but their short discussion was followed by a shy apology from joongi, blaming the geomijul's eternal lack of trust of others for his behaviour and vowed to be as reliable as ever. actually, that was a move from seonhee where she wouldn't let a reason so petty cloud joongi and tesso's relationship further. it was better if tesso didn't know (lol).......
in joongi's opinion, there was too many red flags or dubious points about tesso and couldn’t figure out where nor when they even met (as seonhee never mentioned him before). so, everything came to him as a surprise.
deep down, the hurt joongi felt was because seonhee didn’t tell him about it first when they shared pretty much everything. he took it as a sign of being unworthy of her trust. understanding it didn’t come from malice, joongi slowly opened up to tesso - it was iffy at first, there was still moments when he was a bit rude despite him. it took time, but joongi trusted seonhee in her decision and agreed that tesso wasn’t so bad after all (“albeit a bit goofy and doesn’t have a presentation as neat as I do”). all that mattered at the end of the day was seonhee’s wellbeing and she seems happy. bro got over himself…
- relationship ladder
(i'm not gonna extend myself too much on this but) the particular thing about them is how the closer they got, the place to work on business changed as well.
this is the fish shop next to eomoni's vow 😭
it started at the corner of the geomijul but surely became eomoni's vow (which is just my first fic LOL) - right at the time when the city was as calm as ever and the liumang and geomijul were combined together. members were more comfortable walking the streets so the need to remain miles of tunnels under the surface wasn't as needed.
still, they usually met in the middle of the night to work on stuff, but just end up eating and drinking the hours away. they got in the habit of playing mahjong against each-other singing karaoke on rare occasion (amongst other things).
next location is qing jin.
omg bro with the three piece suit 😭
it's upgrade from eomoni's vow since the top floor has a dress code 😍 you have to be put together to get in there so dresses and dress shirts are a must.
tesso debated for awhile before inviting her. it was a bit of a bold move, but he knew qing jin would be more of her taste (more spacious, luxurious and an entire different palate) AND it was still very private.
tesso actually picked the artwork (see the tomato picture below) and the room divider is from lin lin
they went a few times, and that was then tesso told seonhee about zhao's apartment complex and eventually advanced the idea to share a spot there. won't go over the details again LOL but you get the idea 🤩
knowing she'd be coming, tesso leaves her sweets 🥹 he's usually more busy on foot (you know assassination quests 🤩), but will drop by before she does if he has other stuff to do for the day.
seonhee definitely spends more time there since she doesn't have to be out carrying missions out on the streets and enjoys the privacy. it's seemingly normal when compared to the gloominess of the geomijul and restaurant row.
- trip to kyoto
this is basically the fic i wrote last year - tesso and seonhee go on a trip to kyoto. (PLEASE READ IT I COOKED!!! 😭) the fic in a nutshell:
i am kidding of course
despite being a higher ranked officer with more responsibilities, he’s always stuck at the “uhhhh taking some time off like that kinda feels unfair” but was bullied convinced by zhao to take some anyway. yokohama had been peaceful for awhile now and his subordinates could run well without him around for a few days.
so take the bullet train to osaka only to come back three days and four nights later. notably, they visit the nonomiya shrine (the shrine of love woooooooohooooo, no it is actually!), tesso dedicates her a poem and they stay in a machiya.
funny enough, i managed to make 3d models pretty close to the original drawings (iykyk) so it's fun!
pretty!!!!!!!!! 😭
- miscellaneous
funny thing they do -> rock paper scissors and they talk to each-other the native tongue of whoever wins for a day. seonhee tends to win often; she's just built like that.
during yua's first year at seiryo, tesso and seonhee attended the parent-student meeting together in place of her uncle (yua's legal guardian at the time). to meet sawa-sensei (yes she lived).
negative trait
tesso : can be too passive | seonhee : lacks humility
positive trait
tesso: dependable | seonhee: diligent
strength against the other
tesso: resistant to dominatrix energy | seonhee: resistant to tianyou
their weakness coming from the other
tesso: her cute mannerisms | seonhee: him calling her a specific petname (b......ba......omg i can't [dies of cringe])
serious complaint about the other
tesso: sacrificing health for the sake of fashion | seonhee: sleeps too little
unserious complaint about the other
tesso: lacks stamina | seonhee: grandpa mannerisms at 37
random quirk
tesso: can fall asleep anywhere | seonhee: rarely laughs from her the pit of her stomach
karaoke?
seonhee: enjoys anything from koda kumi | tesso: either tone deaf or decent, nobody knows… won’t do anything more than adlibs
hobby they got because of the other
tesso: skincare | seonhee: gardening
seonhee enjoys growing tomatoes, amongst other things. on his part, tesso grows nappa cabbages somewhere on a rooftop in restaurant row (mostly for kimchi ofc).
hobby they don’t share
tesso: shopping | seonhee: running
hobby they tried together for the first time
dancing (thank you yagami)
seonhee is pissed bc yagami made them do something really hard as a tryout. it's not easy, but it's simple at least so they managed!
thing they do when sick
tesso: eats lemons like oranges | seonhee: drinks tea with every single aromatic she can find (ginger, turmeric, cinnamon, peppercorns, etc.)
last thing they fought about
seonhee being frustrated at tesso’s reluctance to take over the liumang, leading her to talk ill of zhao’s ways of leadership. though, seonhee is too proud to apologize first and they didn’t talk to each other for two weeks. even zhao and saeko picked up on the fact they were kinda avoiding each other.
one thing they struggled with
(especially tesso at the start) treat each-other on equal footing. he was kinda confused at how to behave, whether to be or to not be subservient, like.....
not that it was his second nature, but that's what he used to for the longest time. so, he didn't mind at all.
seonhee was a bit frustrated at the need to spell it out, but it was better that way. at least, everything was clear between them from that point on.
for zhao's costume party [i'll write about this later? maybe?]
(actually seonhee convinced tesso but) they did matching costumes of leon kennedy and ada wong from RE.
TL;DR: i think there are moments when seonhee shares more of herself to someone on equal footing, moments where she's more vulnerable and has room to step away from her idolized self.
i think there are moments when tesso has to put himself first, moments when he must learn to not overextend himself at his own expense.
despite the unlikely circumstances and complicated conditions, i think they would be able to do that together. tesso and seonhee are polar opposites on so many things and i think they can learn a lot from each-other.
i'll make another post with all different outfits they had soon because the volume of models i made 😭
next headcanon post is either going to be ichitesso on dondoko island or yua.....idk yet........
and yes in my book miku was on dondoko island LOL
and before you ask, yes i smoke crack! thank you for coming to my ted talk!
#tessohui#tesso#seonhee#domain expansion#mental institute!!!!!!!!!!#also please dont think im a joongi hater#hes just lame af for how he is towards seonhee about her dating..like bro.....shes not gonna let you hit please stop#also he called ichiban ugly so................bruh............#other than that hes cool#im mentally ill#there are so many more things i wish i could convey#but i kinda hate writing#also this is not very fluffy? i think?#i shouldve written more i literally cant#im sorry#this has been in my drafts for a month at least#han joon gi#zhao tianyou
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So WIP's of my MXY, part 2 hello! I decided "Sleep? What is that" tonight, and i wrote out the entire backstory for MXY in my fic "Ghost of Mine" for the past idk how many hours instead, i have absolutely lost all sense of time tonight LMAO anyway i hope u guys like my progress, i'm leaving out the details on his backstory bc i plan on his backstory going somewhere in the fic. However if something changes and i can't add it or make a small fic on the side i'll post the details about him later. To clarify though 27 is the age mxy sacrifices i believe so that last drawing is his final look before wwx comes into the picture.
I continued sketching in Drawpile cuz i'm enjoying the brush again lol
I put the other wip under the cut just in case people assume my wip of mxy/wwx are nude and lwj gets flagged as nudity lmao
i'm much happier with the pose now and the sizing! and i changed some of the body/hair details for mxy/wwx to match what i'm trying to attempt for the mxy design. He has shorter hair when he starts out in this fic and grows it out over time. he also sports a very "untamed" look bc i wanted him to have a "non-wwx look" [aka it needed to look different than his youth/yiling look cuz he wants to look less sus, even though he already looks quite different bc he's in another body and all]
and bonus attempt at my wen ning but i'm not super happy with it, regardless, here anywho. His design is leaning heavily towards the manhua version of him physically but i wanna do some alterations and touch ups later on. This was my first drawing of the night so its the roughest of the lot anyway.
See other GOM/MDZS content here on my masterpost. ❤
#mxy#one of these is wwx as mxy#probably obvious which#put the drawing of wwx and lwj under the cut just in case this is too much nudity for tumblr even though nothing is showing#i do plan on clothing them#wwx#mo xuanyu#mo dao zu shi fanart#mo dao zu shi#wen ning#mdzs fic#Ghost of Mine#WIP#character design
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Happy New Year, my fellow ghostsoap friends! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧
Since I have been on a crazy COD hyperfixation lately and writing like a TON, I decided to make a Masterpost with all the links to all the Ghost x Soap fics I've written so far so they're all in one convenient place for your reading pleasure! I will keep the list updated as well, bc I definitely plan on writing lots more with all the amazing prompts I've been getting from you guys 🫶
Let's fuckin GOOOOO!!
Flashbang - Ghost and Soap stumble upon one of the Las Almas Cartel's drug labs trying to escape from the Shadows. They get much more than they bargained for when a vial of a new powerful drug on the market breaks open at their feet. It's going to be one long fucking night.
Rating: E
Tags: sex pollen, mildly dubious consent, blow jobs, size kink, anal fingering, anal sex, choking, bottom Ghost, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, rimming, first time bottoming, frottage, praise kink, spooning, fluff, shameless smut, PWP, top switching
Links: AO3 /// Tumblr post
Word count: 7.4k
Status: Complete - epilogue may be added soon
Forgetting How to Breathe - Soap goes and gets himself captured and Ghost will do anything to get him back.
Rating: M
Tags: Whump, Fluff, Kissing, Blood, One Shot, Hurt/Comfort
Links: AO3 /// Tumblr post
Word count: 1.8k
Status: Complete
Struck Speechless - Soap sees Ghost shirtless for the first time and goes absolutely feral for his knockers. That's it, that's the tweet.
Rating: M
Tags: Body Worship, Nipple Licking, Utter crack, One Shot, Prompt fill
Links: AO3 /// Tumblr post
Word count: 1.6k
Status: Complete
I Knew Him - Soap was never the same after he lost Ghost all those years ago. He still has nightmares about it. But when he learns Makarov is back after taking Ghost from him, he'll do anything to exact his revenge. Until he discovers Ghost was never really gone. (Winter Soldier/Cap AU)
Rating: T and up
Tags: Winter Soldier AU, Angst, Established Relationship, Lost Love, Nightmares, Brainwashing, One Shot, Prompt fill
Links: AO3 /// Tumblr post
Word count: 8.8k
Status: Complete
Careful, Johnny - Soap and Ghost have to hide in a small utility closet to escape their pursuers. Things get a little heated in the cramped space. Not that Soap is complaining.
Rating: E
Tags: Frottage, Smut, Tight Spaces, Top Ghost, PWP, One Shot, Prompt fill
Links: AO3 /// Tumblr post
Word count: 1.4k
Status: Complete
Never Have I Ever - After a long night of celebration, Soap overhears Ghost say something he wasn't supposed to.
Rating: T and up
Tags: Alcohol, Drinking Games, Never Have I Ever, Unrequited Love, Mutual Pining, Prompt Fill, Drunken Confessions, POV First Person, Kissing, Making Out, Neck Kissing, French Kissing
Links: AO3 /// Tumblr post
Word count: 2.2K
Status: Complete
Wreckage - Ghost has been captured while out on a solo mission and Soap goes on a rampage to bring him home. But will Ghost ever truly believe he deserves to be saved?
Rating: E
Tags: kidnapping, torture, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, blood and injury, guns, whump, bathing/washing, spooning, nightmares, kissing, hand jobs
Links: AO3 // Tumblr post
Word count: 5.9k
Status: Complete
Falling Hard - Ghost and Soap have to infiltrate a posh masquerade party, posing as a romantically involved couple to gather important intel. But the charade just might push their feelings for each other a little too far.
Rating: E
Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Kissing, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Requited Love, Public Hand Jobs, Frottage, Semi-Public Sex
Links: AO3 // Tumblr post
Word count: 5.2k
Status: Complete
My ask box is always open if you want to drop me a prompt for these two handsome boys! I have a few already in the pipeline, but I’ve been so obsessed with this pairing that I’ve been writing a lot more than I have in a while, so keep those ideas coming!
Cheers to an awesome New Year full of Ghostsoap! Happy reading!
#ghostsoap#ghost x soap#soapghost#ghoap#cod#mw2#fanfiction#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#writing#prompt request#masterpost
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First Times Anthology ch.8: endlessly, forever
work summary » Intimate, vulnerable, gentle. Concepts Levi is a stranger to, until you.
ch.summary: You and Levi take a retreat. After your relationship comes to a natural conclusion, he makes peace with the future.
content/warnings: light references/descriptions for PTSD, flustering Levi, highly domestic, highly horny, oral (f!receiving), edging (f!receiving), Levi’s birthday, creampie (f!receiving), very brief rimming (f!receiving), soft dom!Levi, heavy themes of self hatred at one part, getting Levi drunk and also fucking him to sleep, alcohol consumption, complete fluff overdose, Hange being chaotic (again)
wc: 17.5k
a/n: WOW HERE WE ARE!! i may or may not have worked extra hard for the personal satisfaction of posting the last chapter exactly six months since the first one.
i am horrified i may not have made the last scene justice, but i have also never finished a longfic ever in my entire many years of writing fanfic LMAO😅
i never thought this fic would ever be. a favorite for me, but then it was, and then other ppl read it, and they liked it too :( im simply very thankful + proud of myself for this.
v fitting i end it with an obscenely long chappy lol right?
THAT BEING SAID! a while ago i began to write some... side stories to this series. i just never posted them bc they are farther into canon. i dont plan on writing a sequel to this fic, so imma be posting those (3 rn) periodically to fill in the blanks for fun. think of them like one-off oneshots that fill in the universe lol.
anyway here we go!!
ps: i never project myself onto levi ackerman
previous part・work masterpost
Listened to while writing:
taglist: @peace-for-levi | @sckerman | @jayteacups | @levi-my-beloved | @alominum | @mwuah | @midtwenties-angst | @ackermandick | @halloweenmedic | @katty | @notgoodforlife | @chaotic-nick | @b-o-n-e-daddy | @levisbrat25 + link to sign up
It happens, as acts of fate often do, by surprise.
Today, the sky is awash with that crisp, clean blue that autumn does so well, but clouds are forming and the air is breezy, the first warnings of the coming winter.
You (by Levi’s request, unsurprisingly) have half a dozen seasoned soldiers raking the burnt gold, crimson, and brown leaves, tossing them beyond the fences, and finally scrubbing the gutters until they turn silver.
Meanwhile, fresh-blooded Scouts—those who graduated just last spring, but also lived through the summer expeditions—are on their third or fourth lap now, showing only subtle signs of slowing.
That’s because Levi is running with them.
He has always preferred the hands-on approach.
With a clipboard clasped in your hands, you smile slightly to yourself. It’s no crime to watch him frighten the others into shape while you add up some numbers.
The turn of the season calls for quality checks of all equipment before the Corps more or less enters hibernation for the winter. Besides, mice always find a way into the food stores time of year.
You turn your head as a Scout—a slim, doe-eyed man whose name you don’t know—thumps a fist to his chest in salute.
“There’s a situation at the gate that requires Captain Levi’s attention, Lieutenant.”
“At ease,” you reply with a nod, and he relaxes. Everyone knows about you and Levi, but most assume you both to share the same attitude.
You wave your hand in the direction of the field, but Levi is already on his way over, having noticed the scene. Under one arm is his uniform jacket, along with the padded weights he sometimes likes to strap on for the “extra challenge” when he trains.
Twenty damn kilos.
“What’s so important that you didn’t think to go to the Commander first?” Levi is asking, eyes narrowed.
As it turns out, a man waits at the front gates who wants to have a word with Levi specifically. He claims he knows him, and he hasn’t taken no for an answer.
Didn’t give a name, either—not to a bunch of screwy soldiers, anyway.
You shoot Levi an inquisitive look, but he has nothing in terms of explanation. He might as well go and see who it is, but no, “don’t waste your time escorting me. Get back to your duties.”
The messenger takes his leave.
You nod curtly at Levi with a promise to watch over the training (and the yard upkeep) until he returns, a task you take upon yourself without him needing to say a word. Just for that, a small feeling, like fear but sweeter, blooms in his chest.
During his short walk, Levi wracks his mind of any civilian men he knows with the audacity to show up to the Scouts’ headquarters just to “have a word” with him. It doesn’t feel right.
The Survey Corps aren’t taken seriously, everybody and their mother knows that, but they aren’t protested against outside of the returns from expeditions—usually because of grief, but always convenience.
He can’t think of anyone.
Out in front of Trost HQ stands a wrought iron gate of spear where another pair of Scouts acknowledge Levi with brief salutes.
He waves them away, revealing a scruffy mouse of a man standing outside, defiantly toeing the loose dirt with his shoe. A cigarette dangles from the side of his mouth.
An onslaught of memories rush through Levi’s mind, in sharp contrast to the slow smoke drifting up into the air.
Levi blinks, then blinks again. “Yan?”
A coy grin crawls over Yan’s cheeks, showing teeth. “Yo, Levi…! Good thing you remember me. Was afraid your comrades woulda arrested me soon otherwise.”
He shakes his head. Is he dreaming? “They wouldn’t have.”
“Sorry,” he says. “I guess I’m used to the MP’s way of doing things.”
Yan is as sheepish as ever, and as skinny, too. The last time Levi saw him, he was suffering atrophy in his legs, as lots of people Underground did. His treatment was the down payment on the job that got Levi in the Scouts in the first place.
Gripping one of the spears, he scrutinizes Yan with his eyes. “There are other ways to get my attention if you wanted us to chat. Why’re you here?”
Yan kicks at the dirt some more. He doesn’t seem peeved that Levi doesn’t bridge the gap between them by opening the gate just yet. It’s been years, not that Levi was ever the trusting type to begin with.
“You never liked small talk. I just don’t like owing people my life, you know?”
Levi’s lips press into a thin line. He means coin. “You’re not serious.”
Yan shrugs around another puff of tobacco. “I am.” He peers over Levi’s shoulder. “Your friends are being really nosy.”
A cursory look behind him proves Yan right. More than a few are now clustered around the entrance to HQ, curious as to what the Captain is up to, and more curiously, what some civilian wants with him.
Levi glares in their direction, causing them to quickly disband. “Caution is a positive quality around here.”
Levi doesn’t doubt Yan has honest intentions; he never was cut out for life in a gang. Any job he, or sometimes Farlan, ever gave him that was bigger than petty thieving made him go bright red in the face.
He was just a kid, like most of them were. Isabel’s nickname for Yan was ‘peep’.
Levi crosses through the gate, shutting it behind him. They end up strolling a few paces for guaranteed privacy despite the new clouds gathering above, threatening a drizzle. What few that are out and about on the streets are bartering coins for supper. Dew sticks to the grass.
Levi has a right to be wary. “I wasn’t the one who slipped you all that cash with your pay, back then. I didn’t even contact Lovof first. None of us could’ve afforded your treatment.”
“Hm.”
Levi crosses his arms. He can spew excuses all day.
“Still.”
He scoffs. “What’d you do, then? Steal the King’s purse?”
Yan smiles toothily. “That'd be breaking the law… I would never,” he drawls dramatically. “I just seduced my doctor after she fixed my legs.”
He isn’t impressed.
It doesn’t take long to get an honest answer out of Yan, though. Apparently, he has been saving up for a long time now—some well-paying factory job in one of Sina’s booming industrial districts.
“Believe me, Lev’,” Yan tosses the cigarette away. “I know—"
“You better throw that litter away where it belongs.”
A throaty chuckle leaves the man, and he crouches down. “And here I thought military life might’ve made you go soft.”
“Are you a comedian now, too?”
Yan laughs again, but the light mood doesn’t last long. It dampens as the crooked smile on his face dissolves.
Levi braces himself in case Yan says their names. Out of everyone, he must’ve been the last to hear that they were gone.
“I don’t care about some slimy noble,” Yan says. “And about the extra pay, I know you didn’t know. You never would’ve okay’d it. You were a real penny-pincher when you wanted to be.”
Levi thinks back. His years in darkness feel like a recurring nightmare he one day stopped having. He says nothing.
But he can admit it feels good, seeing Yan again—like coming upon a keepsake that you were sure you lost years before. Levi has known loss all his life, and people born down there seldom ever get out, let alone live through the atrophy.
“Glad you’re doing well for yourself,” Levi tells him, and he is. “But you don’t owe me. Buy a house or something.”
“I got all I need,” he tells him, as serious as death. “C’mon, Levi. Don’t make me beg.”
The look on Yan’s face is pitiful.
Levi gets it. Just like the only reason Levi would even consider taking the money, Yan definitely came with Isabel and Farlan in mind. Not just him.
“You’re a fool,” Levi sighs.
“Well then,” you huff fiercely. “Hm, I have an idea. Let’s go over the reasons again.”
Levi’s tight hold on his reins tightens a little more, making Sweetie snuffle. He’s been dealing with two brats since you left this morning.
A shame that he checked out an ordinary scouting horse rather than taking Nibbles, his horse, but you made a good argument at the time, and besides, you liked her name.
“No.”
Mildly, you shake your head, smirking to yourself. “Well then. Are you gonna keep complaining about being given all that coin? Think very carefully about your answer.”
“Your only joy in life is embarrassing me,” he replies. No hesitation.
“It is not,” you laugh. “Anyway, let me remind you.”
He glances over his shoulder, past your connected wagon neatly packed in with enough belongings to last you this winter. That tree hollow doesn’t look any farther away than it was ten minutes ago.
Dammit, how much longer?
“First of all, HQ is dead in winter. Not even you can find a way to run yourself into the ground. Two: It’s money! It’d be a shame not to spend what’s left since you apparently don’t need it.”
He doesn’t. A week earlier, on the same day that he requested Erwin’s permission that he didn’t need to take a leave of absence (Erwin actually laughed at him), Levi had that recurring nightmare once again. He took a trip back Underground to deliver half of the “debt” to an old, trusted contact. A lot of good will be done with it.
“You’re right so far,” he says.
But he knows what’s coming next. With your horses lugging along the wooden wagon, he can’t gallop away to avoid a repeat of the reasons you gave him to do all this.
It’s not that you’re that serious, nor does he have anything to vehemently disagree with—it’s simply that embarrassing.
He locks his gaze straight ahead, focusing in on a single tree branch that looks like it would collapse if someone blew on it a little. He can’t wait to pass it by.
“Besides the fact that it would be good to take a holiday for once,” you go on, “unfortunately—”
“Stop.”
“—our headboard is cracked! And you didn’t want to be at HQ while it got fixed for some reason.” You smirk. “So there. And how could I forget reason number four?”
He drags your name out in warning, but apparently, you have become deaf. The crunch of thin snow beneath your horses hooves has no chance of drowning you out.
“Let me set the scene for you,” you cackle. You’re enjoying yourself. “There we were, in the privacy of our own quarters, in quite a compromising position, don’t you remember?”
He crushes the pathetic tree branch with his glare. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Your high little laughs litter every word now. “S-Sure you do! It was the third time that month, Lev’, and it was the same culprit—”
“Hange is a fucking pervert, even worse than you, I know. Are you done?”
You spot the utter contempt on his red face and take pity on him. It’s only as much fun to tease Levi as readily as he plays along.
“Yeah,” you relent with a light sigh, fog puffing out.
He relents too. “Finally.”
“I know this is a big deal for you,” you say, a touch more seriously. “I can’t even remember the last time I slept in my own bed back home.”
He, who doesn’t have a tangible home to speak of, feels as pained as you sound. He nods, knowing.
You bring up your family a little more often than he does, which is never. But the thing is, in preparation for this trip, you were both passing through Utopia District and decided to pay them a visit since you find yourselves that far north so rarely.
It isn’t that some tragedy struck home in the meantime and you weren’t informed. No one got laid off or went broke, no one was even sick.
The exact opposite. Your mother and father were happier than ever, actually. Retired. What reconnecting you did came down to a slew of joyful nothings, which made it impossible to talk about your own life—except for one Levi-shaped piece of news.
Your mother practically launched through the ceiling, crying out in glee. It was mortifying for him, but up to then, he had only allowed two people in his life to ever hug him: his own mother, and you. Yours really knew how to squeeze the life out of someone.
But then, there were the nothings. How the cold snaps back in August were worrying, but December has been surprisingly warm, so the Chrysanthemums were miraculously still in bloom. Your mother’s old garden—“You started a garden?” you had asked—was flourishing. And now that he was retired, your father had nothing to say about the scar of resentment whose fresh wound had propelled you into military life in the first place. His biggest concern these days was watering your mother’s plants.
They were older. You told him that that part put it all in perspective for you. “I should be thrilled they’re doing well. I mean, I am, but…I’m too different now. They don’t feel like my family anymore—like we’re two different species. You know what I mean?”
After hearing that, Levi took you to your favorite bookstore in Sina to buy you something (as it turned out, somethings) to make you feel better.
Afterwards, he even let you kiss him on a crowded street despite his crippling embarrassment of showing affection in public. For that reason, you asked first.
Without saying anything, your cloth sack of books hooked under one of his arms, he turned towards you and scooped up your chin. That peck really seemed to make you happy.
In truth, he hadn’t known what to say at the time. Sure, he doesn’t know what Kenny’s up to, if he’s still breathing enough to be up to anything at all, but if he is, Levi dreads the day he finds out about it for many reasons. One being that Kenny’s dearest joys in life differed from most people’s, to say the very least.
“What’re you looking at me for?”
Your eyes stay on him. “I just like looking at you.”
Face pinched, he turns the other way. An image invades his mind of himself from a third person perspective, and he inwardly recoils.
“Well, stop,” he complains mildly, blushing. Since this morning this has been happening, because he just can’t get away, which you have been taking full advantage of.
“I can’t.”
He makes a sour face. “I mean stop looking.”
You grin. “Give me an hour to gather the strength.”
“We’ll be there in an hour.”
“That’s right!”
Levi doesn’t have a passion for decorating as long as things are in perfect order. This is why you tell him what you want where, down to exact inch, and he can do it all without a single margin of error.
He isn’t perfect of course, but he’s always determined to be.
The biggest thing you brought along (that wasn’t already here) was a mattress, and you don’t have a speck of dust in terms of decorations, but still.
Now that the wagon is empty (the largest piece of furniture you brought was a mattress, but still), your horses are secured in their stalls, and you’re done spending the better part of the late afternoon cleaning the cabin from ceiling to floor together, it’s time to breathe.
Levi leans back against the kitchen bar with his cravat undone around his neck. Seeing how he sweat through his shirt long ago, he has three whole buttons undone below his collar.
What are breaks, anyway?
He takes in the finished product and decides he’s pleased, but it still feels like a blank sheet to him, it being so new, so unused. What to do next?
That’s how you find him the next time you pop your head in from outside, dabbing your forehead of sweat with a handkerchief as white as the snow on the ground. You whistle.
He crosses his arms and looks away, looking unbearably coy. “What’s next?”
The possibilities have you rocking in the doorway. You simply can’t contain your energy.
“Well, it’s the golden hour, ‘Vi. Are you hungry?”
You both set up in the kitchen and get to work, however—odd cooking of all things soon becomes in his mind. Time isn’t counting down before work, and you have so many options, for once excluding watered down stew and bland military provisions.
He frowns as he sparks a match for the wood underneath the stove. The thunk of a knife on a cutting board, that’s you.
It hits him, sudden and severe, that he will be enjoying your cooking every day, at least when he wasn’t doing it. You always say he has a knack for making something out of nothing.
Earlier, you made fun of him for hopping back onto the counter in order to reach for a can of broth you had placed in the highest cabinet.
Whenever he pointed this out, you offered to get it for him, to which he scoffed: no, he obviously doesn’t need help. It was just a can.
An odd feeling turns over inside him.
Despite your earlier transgression, he still wanted to follow your recipe tonight. However, for as long as the cabin has sat empty before now, parsley, rosemary, and all manner of spices were overgrown beyond the clearing outside. While you were busy picking those, it was up to him to chop the lettuce.
Which quickly turns into a much more arduous task than he expected.
His personal dagger that followed him up from Underground had finally breathed its last years before, but he has always kept a collection (a habit that has followed him since childhood), including kitchen knives. Any weapon he can hold is an extension of himself.
Which is why it is frustrating him to no end that he can’t cut this damned lettuce right. Suddenly, he feels like a novice.
Brow puckered in irritation, he stops and measures the mass of filleted greens with one hand. With his other, he flips the blade backwards absentmindedly as he reconsiders his approach.
This isn’t flesh, and it most certainly isn’t a threat. The kitchen air is dense with steam from the wood burning under the stove, screwing with his head.
Come to think of it, he can’t remember the last time he took all this preparation into cooking. Maybe he’s been killing things for too long.
This is how you find him, asking, “How’s it coming?” to which he grunts noncommittally. It’s not coming along at all, which makes him even more determined to make some progress.
So, he lines the thin pointed edge up, and tries again with a flurry of quick chops. What results is a murder scene on the lettuce’s part.
After a long moment, he senses you watching over his shoulder, so he stops, waiting for your judgment.
“Baby, you’re stabbing them.”
“Tch.” He flicks the blade around once more, and shaves the cracked, brown pieces off the board and onto the napkin. “No, I’m cutting. There’s a difference.”
Then you’re closing in on him from behind, and loosely taking his hand that he grips the handle with. “Well, you’re cutting like it’s going to attack you,” you say softly. “There’s not gonna be that much resistance, either. Hold it looser, like this.”
Without thinking much of it, he slowly relaxes against you, tilting his head a tad to make room.
“I would’ve figured it out eventually,” he argues weakly. His chest flips in embarrassment.
“I know,” you reply. “But I’m already here, right?”
A nod. He decides to follow your direction if you insist on giving it, it’s just unthinkable that he would require help with a task like this. It’s a surprise, how complacent he has become.
From behind, he hears your breath hitch. The steam. Neither of you say anything, but you’re hasty in lowering the flames after that.
It takes two weeks to adjust when this vacation was to last five. By mid-January, the frost will have melted away enough for there to be work to do again. In the meantime, there is only the two of you.
No matter what environment he’s in, Levi pours his energy into a clean environment, but suddenly the environment started begging for his attention even more, like the loose gutter leaking due to melting snow.
What about the mess of leaves plastered to the roof, too? And all the damn weeds crawling up the side of the cabin closest to the forest like leafy tendrils?
So this is what average people get fussy over? he thinks. These are their worries? Their priorities?
Either way, they are yours to share.
Most things you do, you do together. You pull the weeds and rake the leaves, he fixes that dangly gutter on the roof, and while he was at it, replaces the rotted bricks in the chimney, and cleans soot out of the fireplace, and also—
Surprisingly, he begins to find immense satisfaction in getting these simple, but crucial tasks done.
The problems that sometimes erupt are even simpler, and even at those rare times where they aren’t, they’re still child’s play in comparison to the more hellish ones he’s used to.
Like the acorns. Levi got it into his head that he would clear the entire yard of anything but grass, including acorns. You started snatching up each and every one he tossed aside, plopped them in a wicker basket, and threw them back to the squirrels.
By their nature, however, the acorns never stop coming. It infuriated him. He only came to enjoy this chore once it became a routine each morning, following slow blinks and easy yawns.
To such an extent that he constructs a simple wooden bench for the rear side of the cabin. Most of the squirrels live in the forest, so you could throw your acorns out all you want without tiring yourself out.
It was a surprise, too.
You weren’t done thanking him even as you were shaving it down and polishing it, having been an apprentice to a woodworker in your youth. The result was more elegant than Levi could ever have dreamed of doing himself.
The best part of all however, was waking up together. You can always wake up together. Every morning carries a slow, gradual rise to awareness, and your warm lump under the blankets is always there for him to reach for. Plus, he can always, always grant your request for “five more minutes”.
The mornings are his favorite, to say the least.
The bedroom is simple, but larger than you’re both used to (despite your ranks, especially Levi’s, luxury simply doesn’t exist in the Corps). The perpetual smell of ceder, laundry, and more faintly, old paper always sits inside. The folded curtains, hued like thick cream, stay closed in the mornings to block out enough sunlight for you two to sleep in.
But Levi can never bring himself to. Instinct, or habit, always wakes him around dawn, and at dawn he still trains. It was unthinkable that he would allow himself to grow soft, so there was no argument.
In fact, you join him more often than not for the same stringent exercise routines you’re used to back at HQ. Sometimes you spar, and at others you hike into the forest while the sun is still creeping up into the sky, flooding the morning with purpley pinks. Even the birds are just waking up.
It’s not yet that time when you jolt awake this morning, or rather, late enough for it to be considered that.
Why? A freezing hand is brushing over your bare belly where your blouse fails to cover. An arm curls around your waist.
You whine sleepily and knock away the ice cube. “Hand’s cold,” you groan, eyes stubbornly sticking shut. “S’wrong, Lev’?”
No reply. You toss a look back to be greeted by what you can make out to be a blank look on his tired face.
He blinks, and then you blink, long and slow. “Was I not touching you anymore?”
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he mutters.
Levi doesn’t deny it, which means yes. In response, you tug his hand back around you, causing him to grunt.
Sometimes, one of you rolls away from the other during sleep, causing him to always snap awake shortly thereafter.
There is nothing else he’s still embarrassed over more than that.
“Hm. C’mere,” you whisper, and squirm over to face him. He tangles your legs together and puts his arm around you, even clinging—but not without another choked grunt.
Now that you’re more awake, you delicately tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. You’re close enough to feel his warm breath on your face.
“Is it your hand again?” you ask.
He huffs through his nose. “Go back to sleep.”
Ever since he had quite literally fixed the cabin’s every conceivable flaw, he has been floundering for more projects to complete.
He’s definitely compensating, but you don’t point this out.
You kind of expected it, which is why you approved at the beginning, but only as long as the land’s beauty didn’t cost his health.
“Levi.” you chuckle a little, blinking in the dark. “Don’t make me ask you to take a break for your break. The roof won’t leak for another hundred years ‘cause of you.”
“Hm. You’re welcome.”
“I mean it.” You brush your noses together in an eskimo kiss. A lazy peck on the side of his mouth, however, has your brow wrinkling. His skin feels rougher than usual, even scraped.
With another kiss, this one to his sharp jaw, he huffs again. “Not now. Sleep.”
“I’m not trying to start anything,” you huff back in pretend-offense. “I never see you with facial hair. I think it’s cute.”
“…I don’t think so.”
“Have you ever tried growing more? Like… a curly mustache.”
He snorts loudly. “Go back to sleep.”
“So that’s a no.”
His scoff is muffled by the pillow he buries his face into. “I just, haven’t had the time to shave it.”
You scrub the sleepiness from your eyes and sit up a little to peek down at him. With what little side-eye you’re given, you can tell he’s giving you attitude.
You lay your hand over his jaw, and lo and behold, rough hairs scrape your palm.
“‘Haven’t had the time’ my ass,” you grumble quietly. “I’ll do you one better than that.”
He buries his face deeper into the pillow. The most you can do now is scratch gently at where his undercut lays, stuck up in places.
What must be the sheer agony he feels from your offer makes him groan a little. “You do enough.”
“Never,” you say.
“Always.”
“Never.”
You go back and forth more and more insistently. He, just on principle, quits the game first, but doesn’t compromise, either.
So neither do you. You climb belly-down on top of his back so you’re stacked on top of each other like pancakes.
“Ngh.”
“Levi,” you whisper in his ear, but no response. His eyes are closed.
You gape softly. “Are you actually pretending to be asleep right now?”
Nothing.
You’re at your wit’s end. “Let me,” you whine into the curve of his shoulder.
Huffing, you bully your hands under his lean sides. “Or else.”
“You’re a brat,” he mutters fondly.
Your lips quirk, but that isn’t the response you wanted, so you scrape your fingers all over an infamous tickle-spot of his: right below his ribs where his belly muscles properly begin, and a huffy laugh immediately bursts from him.
Even though he could easily throw you off, he bullies a hand under himself to bat you away as his chest wracks with contained snickering. His squirming is neverending.
Not on your watch. In a frenzy, you wiggle your fingers all over his ribs.
Levi makes lots of grabs, but it’s too sensitive, and his hand feels like a broken paperweight. He scrambles for the sheets instead, airy, earnest laughing sounding from the pillow. You burst into a fit of your own to hear it.
“You brat,” he gasps, and in one solid movement finally throws you off, like a bull. On your side of the bed, thighs land on either side of your waist, his bony knees digging into your hands to keep you still.
Your laughter quickly dies out. New tension eats at the air as you stare up at each other through the darkness, at a stalemate. The only sounds are your rough breathing.
“Never,” you pant, and you mean that. “You never let me do anything for you.”
His sigh has a touch of defeat in it, which is what makes you cry out so loud to feel his freezing palms snake up under your shirt. You didn’t expect that.
Reflexively, your back bows away from him, until a small gasp is pulled from you. The way his hands slot up underneath your breasts makes his thumbs dangerously close your nipples.
“Fine,” he relents, and casually begins to roll his hips down into yours. “But let me do one more thing for you first.”
You do.
Levi has never allowed (or needed, really) you to do something as personal as shave his face. The fact that this is happening in the first place is a testament to how much he loathes the “rat shit” on his face, and how hard he’s been working lately.
“You not going to return the favor,” you tried to explain to him. “We’re not bartering.”
“That depends on whether you cut me or not,” he said, not inspiring a wave of anxiety to wash over you.
To accommodate for his height, you decided on taking the cushioned chair from the sitting room whose color could be easily mistaken for rotten plums. Sitting on his lap was just an added benefit, which is the only reason he told you, “Good idea,” instead of rolling his eyes and retrieving the chair anyway.
The basin you’re using is clean, white porcelain, in sharp contrast to the sick-looking state of the water once you’ve gotten started.
For good luck, because you’ll be prettified just to knick him on accident, you tap the side of the basin (ting-ting-ting) with each pass of the small blade—which also helps in case of stray hairs.
He looks personally insulted every time you do this.
“Don’t ruin the blade by tapping it with the edge, and you’ll chip the—”
“Shh,” you soothe.
The straight edge falling down around his mouth abruptly quiets him, but he always has plenty enough attitude for all hours of the day, in all situations.
He glares at you.
Ignoring him, you cradle his chin and sweep it downwards in long, fragile motions. With a soaked cloth, you dab away all stray hairs and cream.
Just a little longer.
So another hour, he likes to retort, all because you’re taking this job seriously—a grave statement considering you perform any and all tasks with care already.
“You just like to complain,” you quip lightly, although his scowl dissolved about a half-hour ago. As some point, he just started to watch you, and hasn’t averted his eyes since.
It’s a titillating feeling, his eyes like soft silver, always in your vision. The air feels like a fuse, eternally waiting for sudden ignition.
He traces the knobs of your spine beneath your shirt. “If I praise you, you’ll lower your guard, and there’s a higher chance you’ll make a mistake.”
Ting-ting-ting.
“My Levi just gets sweeter by the day, hm?”
He glares, just barely.
“Don’t clench your jaw like that, honey.”
He obeys.
You know he has a point, however, which motivates you to imagine this as more of a battle. A real fight leaves no room for mistakes, let alone praise.
He is sweet, but he gets clingier and clingier these days, which never fails to make you a little smug, warmly so. If things were different, you would enjoy it even more, the way he holds onto you (right now, literally).
Another fifteen minutes pass after you reach a perfect rhythm: a continuous loop of slow swipes, tap-tap-tapping the basin, then sweeping the rag over the spot you just completed. Only sometimes, you lather on some extra shaving cream.
With your thumb and forefinger, you hold the nape of his neck, not unlike in those moments you want to comfort him.
You’re in your own little world, and so is he, for his gaze hasn’t left yours since you don’t know when anymore. One moment, he was glancing in the mirror, but before you knew it, you couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t looking at you.
Your hold the same, you raise the razor once more, and the dream is shattered.
Just before the edge could brush down below his chin, Levi’s eyes snap wide. He seizes your wrist at once, causing you to jerk back.
To your shock, he still doesn’t let go; his shoulders rise and fall with his breaths, his grip so tight that you feel your bones grind.
“Levi,” you wince, “Stop! Too tight.”
His hand pulls backwards as if stung, and he retreats back in the seat, eyes wide and blank.
Sitting very still, he swallows as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “…Sorry. I’m sorry. You surprised me.”
You lean back as well, your heart pounding in your throat. After how hurt his hands seemed the night before, you underestimated his real strength.
You should know by now. He’s just always so kind to you.
Despite rubbing your smarting wrist, you shake your head frantically. “It’s okay.”
He blinks back into reality, still looking somewhere past you. “What did you say?”
Once upon a time, he couldn’t even stand being kissed on his neck. You should’ve known putting the razor anywhere near there without a warning would upset him.
“It’s okay,” you repeat. “I’m sorry, you’re safe. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I wasn’t thinking.”
He’s watching you with as much space put between you as possible. “Did I hurt you?”
“It’s okay.”
His eyes dart down to your wrist, which seems to answer for him. With his knuckles a peachy white on the armrests, he takes a swift breath through his nose. “Get up.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
You shake your head, your hands slapping down over both his hands. “No, I’m not hurt! It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was an accident.”
Levi doesn’t doesn’t so much as twitch to shoo you off, but he looks devastated, as if he injured you within an inch of your life.
“Here,” you say, voice high with pleading, and set your wrist in front of him.
You shake it a little. “Levi, please, look. I’m okay.”
“Okay…” He drags the word out skeptically, but you don’t move, and with some more time, he eventually reaches out to touch your wrist.
You don’t stop swearing up and down that this isn’t the catastrophe like he thinks it is. Even though it feels like a bruise is waiting to rise to your skin’s surface (which you don’t voice), you know you startled him. It was as accidental as an accident can get. He didn’t break you.
“I don’t wanna stop before I’m finished,” you tell him gently. “And if it makes you feel better, I know you won’t let it happen again.”
His chest rises with a long, even breath. “Forgive me,” he speaks against your wrist. He’s been kissing it.
In response, you glide it over his soft cheek, shaking your head. “Why? There’s nothing to forgive.”
He swallows heavily, his adam’s apple rising and falling with it. He does feel fine for you to continue, but he feels like a sitting safety hazard, too. Handling a razor shouldn’t be as dangerous as it usually is.
“Is it okay?” you ask.
“Worry about yourself.”
“I’m okay,” you tell him again, real close.
He sighs.
“Honey.”
“...I believe you.”
A tiny thrill moves your stomach. Your brows raise. “You’ll let me?”
“Are you asking me to repeat myself?” he retorts, but sheepishly. Turning his head, he presses a chaste kiss to your palm.
This warms your heart. The blade was left on the counter at some point, but you lift its handle now, and settle back in.
You take your sweet time lathering on the perfect amount of shaving cream below his chin. For all the agonizing, he needs very little work done here.
“You’re stalling,” he comments quietly, and bears his throat a little. He doesn’t sound annoyed, which means he’s nervous
Over the act itself or hurting you again, you don’t know, but he’s no longer looking at you.
You begin.
Once again holding his nape, you tip his chin where you need it, and eye the dark hairs that trail below one of his sideburns. Easy.
“Good,” you will say every so often. You don’t care that Levi isn’t a child, whether he needs to be praised or not. At least he won’t make a mistake for lowering his guard, not here. “Good job staying still for me.”
He shifts. Now you guide the razorblade downwards, over where his pulse thuds beneath his skin.
You pause when he takes your forearm. If he changed his mind, it’s not clear; he simply clicks his tongue and looks the other way.
“Lev’?”
“Keeping you steady.”
You are steady. He on the other hand could double for a wooden board.
His lips tug down. “It’s not you. You should know that.”
“I do,” you say, and you mean it.
Nothing but your breaths and the scrape of the blade’s thin edge breaks the air anymore. Other than the bump in his throat bobbing when he swallows, frightening you into pausing, you don’t hit any more obstacles.
His steady hold on your arm never completely leaves you. Eventually, he moves further to caress your bicep, the bare minimum of holding it, and near the end, it floats down to your waist.
“Done,” you murmur, scratching a little at his nape. You’re proud, and not only of him: your hand didn’t waver the whole time.
He glances towards the mirror, rubbing his face.
You hold your breath.
“You did well.”
Your heart leaps. Sighing evenly, you finally lean back and trace your thumb across his sharp jaw, ignoring the ache in your back for your efforts—even moreso, your wrist.
He looks perfect, skin soft and smooth again.
“So… Trust me now?” you quip lightly.
He shoots you a small, pinched look, and glances back at the mirror, now feeling his neck as well.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says quietly. “I told you, it was—”
“Joke, honey.” You scratch his undercut, then lean in to kiss his cheek. “Just a dumb joke.”
After you coerced him into letting you trim his hair too (to be fair, he had been complaining about it for a while; it had gotten to the point of him pinning up his bangs in the front as well as that fucking rat’s tail in the back), he coerced you into doing your hair.
“This is what you get,” he retorted, “if you’re gonna be such a saint.”
It wasn’t even his birthday yet. He expected, as usual, that you were concocting some secret plan in order to celebrate, so he wasn’t about to take all your pampering lying down.
So he used everything he knows about hair on you, and everything he knows about hair, he learned as a kid.
The tips of his ears burned when he saw your lips part, then your eyes sparkle in the mirror’s reflection.
“Wow, you made me look so beautiful.”
To which he flicked your ear. “Don’t insult yourself like that.”
Your beauty isn’t conditional.
Mercifully, the stakes didn’t rise any higher than that, no matter how you pounced on him twice later—first when he was coming upstairs after locking up the cabin, and then as he left the bathroom—to squeeze and rub all over his shoulders.
He won that one. A repeat of that night a few months ago—your magical hands lathering that fiery-cold lotion into every inch of his aching muscles—was cruelly appealing, but this amount of pampering was overwhelming all the same. You did enough without him asking.
So he didn’t need one, not today.
Now, the bedroom is full of darkness. He can’t see you; he can only listen to your slow breathing and feel you there, comfy and pliant in his arms.
Tonight is one of those nights when his mind refuses to slow down, let alone stop. Sleep is stubborn and far away, but at least relevant thoughts sit there for him to chew on to pass the time.
There is no other area in Levi’s life left where he doubts himself, besides here. It is crippling at the worst of times and a murmur at the back of his mind at the best. The worry of the hour tonight revolves around showing you how thankful he is, and how grateful.
He doesn’t doubt you: your resolve is strong, and it doesn’t falter, doesn’t drift, day by week by month by year. If you ever have a concern, he has utmost confidence that you will voice it, but this issue is firmly between Levi and himself.
He knows your feelings, but he doesn’t believe you understand the true gravity of his own. A wave washes over his chest when your soft, sleepy face crinkles into a smile when he’s the first thing you see upon waking up, and his throat tightens in moments of fleeting peace. Casual kisses at the most random of moments jolt him with electricity, and he knows now that he would risk too much if the worst of circumstances demanded it.
Earlier today, he meant what he told you: if what you did hadn’t especially caught him off guard—hurling his mind to a different time, place, and feeling—he wouldn’t have doubted pressing his throat against your blade, not for a moment.
But funnily enough, after all this time he still isn’t good at knowing when you’re joking.
There are words to convey his feelings when actions fail—of course there are. His word is his bond; they’re promises (even if not explicitly said), but he frowns deeply, because that isn’t the problem. Caring for you more than he has ever cared for another is a promise he can keep.
Sometimes, he feels real jealousy with the ease with which you annihilate him with your random compliments. Using words is important to you, but he struggles so deeply.
Could he? He gets the distinct feeling the world will end—that the sky will rain fire, or the ground will crack open the ground’s foundations—if he so much as parts his lips, but at the same time, he has never been more confident. Words stick to his tongue.
He whispers your name.
No reply. You don’t even stir. All you are is a warm, sleepy lump cradled back against his chest.
He presses his lips to your clean hair. You sleep as if you have hundreds of years at your disposal to do so, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Frowning under a sudden sense of nausea, he turns his head to cool his face with the deep navy pillow. His lips part, then shut, then part, like a fish moments away from suffocation.
Thunder is in his chest. Could he?
“I… love you,” he whispers.
But the world doesn’t end, it just feels like it does. Why?
It presses down on him so much he could shout, so, after holding his breath until his lungs burn, just in case, he shuffles away from you. The mountain of blankets are yours.
He turns over onto his other side, facing the curtained window.
Why does he have to catch his breath? Why is it so terrifying to let someone in?
Despite the thick veil of curtains, he knows what vast night exists beyond it. It is easier to believe that you both exist in a void where no one and nothing exists beyond it, than to take enough air into his lungs. He feels that same terrifying freedom as if he were just passing under the gate that divides the cage from the sky.
Words are binding, and as such, sometimes prisons. But you aren’t shackles, and this skip in his heartbeat isn’t chains. It took him so long to come to terms with that.
Even when he shuts his eyes, the world spins. If he was ever in range of sleep before, he’s certainly wide awake now.
Now, all he can think about is whether he locked the window before you both laid down to sleep.
It’s nearing the turn of the winter season when nature is the most dull, discolored muck it’ll ever be, with a sky like wet cottonballs. The chill day by day is so ferocious it bites through layers of wool and cotton.
Fittingly, you and Levi share an unspoken conversation, and come to an unspoken fact: the two of you can’t stay here annually. You communicate in little looks—the way Levi visibly grows more antsy, or the pinch in your expression when looking out into the fog in the mornings. Neither of you comment on fixing up the house anymore, and his sleeping patterns have worsened again.
Whether you can or can’t becomes a moot point when the cabin is indeed heaven, but all the while, hell waits beyond the mouth of the forest.
Your duty (especially his) waits, freedom waits, and the turbulent future waits as well. Your responsibilities are a burden you could, and would not, give away.
The way things used to be, Levi’s duty was his sole cause for living. While he’s never stated it outright, you’re confident you’re important to him—but more severe matters take precedent without question.
Like a weed, even guilt has been growing in you, not just for Levi alone. You’ve spent more years as a soldier now than you’ve been alive (the consequence of entering the Cadet Corps as young as you did ).
Neither of you can live in good conscience in this bubble for long, where no fighting, blood, or death exists. You understand the way Levi has always felt now, if to a lighter extent—how it all feels too good.
You feel, you know that while you’re away, you will yearn for this the rest of the year just as much as your very first day without it.
Worst of all, neither of you—even you—can’t promise that you one day will return. There are many promises you wish you could speak into existence, but you must keep in mind that they’ll never come to pass.
For instance… you love him. So much as glancing over at him on the sun-speckled porch after supper, his knees folded up to his chest in what has come to be his chair (when you’re alone, he doesn’t feel the need to appear so prim and proper), makes you overcome with adoration. That’s all it takes.
Levi has taught you that you don’t need to speak a word to hear it loud and clear, but you want to.
The yearning to make sure he knows worms around in your chest madly, but you’re confident he’d never hear of it. Seeing how you’ve never heard it before, and the pressure he feels where normal people wouldn’t, you fear endlessly how he would react.
Your cuticles are swollen from picking at them in all your nervousness.
You came to this conclusion about staying at the cabin at the end of December, near his birthday (his supposed birthday, anyway).
The day itself turns out to be the perfect distraction. You couldn’t get away with stealthily keeping awake until the sun crawled above the horizon so you could surprise him with breakfast, nor could you sneak away before he woke. Impossible in any circumstance, really, so either way he was out of bed before you could even surprise him a different way.
Infamously, Levi loathes celebrating his birthday—”What’s so special about the day I was born?” he likes to retort. “It’s just another day.”—but that has never mattered to you.
Last night, you prepared in advance. As soon as you shoot awake in bed, you dash downstairs while still half-asleep to slam the apple fritter in the oven, and put away the tea he already brewed in favor of the more precious tea leaves you had saved for him.
You take great care in everything you do, especially the tea (down to counting down the seconds it needed to steep in your head), then a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, buttery toast, avocado from the closest market, and even sliced ham. Ham!
It’s going overboard for sure, even for you, but he deserves it.
Levi’s footfalls abruptly pause upon the sound of the back door shuttering closed.
You can’t help but grin. The sweet, greasy smell of cooking meat must have spread throughout the whole downstairs at this point.
Then, rapid clicks of his boots against the creaky wood erupt until he appears in the doorway.
“Good morning,” you chirp over your shoulder. “You know what day it is?”
Scoffing, he marches right over and crushes you in his embrace from behind.
You laugh despite the ache in your knees; you’ve been stooped over a hot stove for the better part of the morning.
His lips make a trail of kisses from your jaw to your shoulder, saying, “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I thought I had to?” You touch his hair. “That’s news to me.”
He blinks down at the counter, then abruptly lays down wetter kisses. “How broke did you go?”
You melt against him and make more room for his teeth, making you shiver. “Levi.”
“Tell me, sweetheart.”
“No.”
His hands slip beneath your top, humming softly in satisfaction to find you aren’t wearing a bra.
“Levi,” you say, softer.
He massages your soft breasts into his palms, pushing, then squeezing them together.
Your eyes flutter as heat pools down below your waist. “Honey, I’m not done.”
“I��m thankful,” he murmurs, ignoring you, and rolls your nipples under his rough thumbs.
You swallow a whine. “Don’t you want to eat?” you ask thinly.
No answer. He’s busy suckling a reddish mark into your neck.
He’s very convincing. Maybe letting breakfast cool isn’t such a terrible idea.
Delicately bracing the center of your chest, one of his hands slips down. Its rough callouses feel immensely satisfying against your belly.
Just when it (surprisingly) looks like he’s going to go along with eating after all, his palm follows a path down between your thighs.
You gasp softly. One fingertip sweeps continuously through your slit, beneath your panties.
“All this is for me, isn’t it?” he says conversationally into your ear. “Of course I want to eat.”
“Fuck,” you whisper, taking support from the counter to rock into the fingers just lightly circling your clit. “Fuck, Levi.”
With no hesitation, he cages you in against the counter so you feel a hint of hardness pressed against your backside from behind. Heavier, hot breaths puff against your neck.
Suddenly, you don’t care if everything is ice cold by the time he’s finished with you. He can take you anywhere, and the idea of it happening right here, makes your heartbeat throb in your clit.
“Let me—”
“Yes.”
With an amused huff, he rubs you with practiced fingers and pulls away, making you whine.
Now turned to face him, his middle finger lands on your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. You feel it’s wet.
Maybe you should’ve worn lipstick.
Levi’s eyes gleam as your tongue darts out for a taste. “You’re so messy,” he comments, guiding you towards the dining table. “C’mere. Let me clean you up.”
Shocked by his forwardness, your stomach jumps as you’re bent over the wooden table—which you already set with placemats and silverware. Your bottom half is in flames.
“Thought you were eating,” you hear yourself say.
“That too.”
As your shirt comes off, “Real funny, Captain.”
He ignores you. The moment you sense him dropping to his knees, taking your sticky panties down along with him, your breath jumps.
“Exactly.”
A tiny whine is stolen from you as his hot breath hits your pussy, constructing sharply from the cool air.
He kisses the backs of your spread thighs. Lithe hands spread you open. “If you’re gonna make us celebrate, I wanna celebrate my way, and not hear you complain about it.”
He doesn’t bother teasing. His lips press to your fluttering hole, before he begins lapping at your cunt.
Levi, not teasing you.
“Ah!” you gasp from the bottom of your lungs. A hot, wet tongue pushes through your slit, which is now properly soaked.
You grope for something—anything to steady yourself. You manage his soft hair, and a groan of approval vibrates your clit.
Bright pleasure vibrates through you, and doesn’t stop. Hell if you know where his sudden confidence is coming from, because while sex with Levi never fails to blow you away, he’s making you go cross-eyed.
The sound of slurping sounds from below, made louder by the way he holds you completely open.
You jolt from the overstimulation, your hole twitching around nothing.
You shudder, begging, “Please, please,”—you feel so empty.
You want to ask what’s gotten into him, but the words evaporate as soon as his heavy tongue pushes into your tight cunt.
Instinctively, you tighten with a soft cry, which only encourages him to start fucking you with it.
He keeps your twitching thighs spread, and moans deep into you. Even more instinctively, you pull him by his hair, forcing his tongue. The sound that results has you gaping into the polished oak table. Something clatters to the floor.
Levi’s hips twitch forward into nothing but his zipper. He’s forced so close he’s halfway suffocated, but he loves it—he loves to be used for you to feel good.
It’s a mystery to him how you really believed he wouldn’t want to fuck you with his tongue, especially on his birthday.
His favorite part is your sweet, heavy taste—he simply can’t get enough—or how you cough out a cry in surprise when three fingers sweep your clit up and down in swift c’mere motions. Maybe it’s your warm, pillowy cunt squeezing his tongue, or the way two of his fingers easily bury inside next to it. He curls them up snug against your favorite spot.
“Right there,” you gasp. “Fuck, don’t stop!”
Breathing hard, he smacks a kiss to your swollen pink clit before giving you his mouth again. He loves you like this, and he loves you. His heart skips a beat.
“I’m already…” You moan, your tone a warning.
It sets him on fire, the way you need him.
“Ca-Captain, I’m not gonna last if you don’t stop.”
His cock gives a hard, heavy throb. He moans loudly and pulls his mouth off, but his fingers stay curled inside. They piston in and out slowly, but deep enough for your pussy to swallow in his second knuckles.
With his free hand he takes a handful of your ass, and spreads you open.
“You don’t wanna come, pretty girl?” he asks, thick with that teasing tone you know so well.
“No!” you cry, and realize what you just said. “Wait, yes, please please—”
His balls ache. He wets his swollen lips before leaving forward, swiping over your much tighter hole.
You wail, “Levi!”
“Oh, yeah. It’s not up to you, is it?”
His fingers slow, then stop, making you keen into the wood. Your pink cunt is drooling for him.
It’s—It’s your birthday,” you whimper, feeling betrayed by yourself. “You can do anything you want to me.”
Working your soft thighs and ass in his palms, he hums, “Uh-huh.”
Once again he rises to his feet, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.
His hand lands on the center of your back to keep you steady while he makes quick work of his belt and trousers. As it clinks, then zips, he can feel your dazed eyes on him, watching.
“Fuck,” you sigh, dragging it out. “You’re so hard.”
“Turn around for me.”
You do. With his help, your backside lies on the table edge with you bent in such a way that your ankles rest on his shoulders.
Your wet cunt is completely exposed to him. The cool air on your clit makes you twitch.
You gaze up at his messed hair and red cheeks, stricken by how good he looks. Between his plump thighs his cock is bright red and swollen, beaded with cum.
He holds your hip, keeping you together. “Are you comfortable?’
You nod, feeling dopey, and reach to guide his round cockhead past your rim. The push is easy, filling you to the brim. Perfect.
Your head falls back. “L-Love your dick, fuck. You’re perfect.”
A bitten moan rumbles in his chest. Tight.
He pushes and pulls by shallow inches. “Is all this really that surprising to you?”
“This?” Your hand grabs his. You reach with the other, feeling where you’re connected. “No. Just, you’re not usually—” you search your dizzy mind for a word, “So much.”
It dawns on him what you mean, and his shallow thrusts pause. “D’you want me to stop?”
You manage to gape. “Don’t you dare.”
This position won’t let him kiss you, so he kisses low on your thigh instead. Even here he tastes sweat and sex, all traces of last night’s shower gone.
“Guess I’m in a good mood.”
He takes you right there, from short and shallow to soon pistoning his cock in and out of you in long, hard thrusts—so much so the table lurches several times (more metal clatters, and something swoops to the floor). In order to keep you close, he takes your hip like a vice and fucks you with abandon.
You encourage him louder and louder— “Yes! Yes, fuck—!”—until his jaw slackens. Your pussy, soft like silk, starts to squeeze him.
“Fucking perfect,” he groans.
He folds you completely in half, one leg now dangling high, and it changes the angle.
A flurry of hard, wet thrusts, and you come.
A shiver rocks his whole body. As your pussy gushes, pleasure like liquid heat overtakes him, and he fucks his cum into you soon after.
“Do you know what you do to me?” he wants to ask. “Do you realize yet how perfect you are?”
As usual, he can’t muster the words. In the come-down, the only sound throughout the sun-bathed kitchen is both of your heavy breathing.
From where your chest heaves upon the crooked table, like a model for some erotic artist, both your thighs tremble.
“Your breakfast,” you croak, grieving.
It’s hard not to smile. As he wipes down your inner thighs with a wet rag, he corrects you: “Brunch.”
“All my blood, sweat n’ tears… gone to waste.”
He tuts softly, and lugs you up. “It hasn’t been left out in the rain, has it?”
“No…” But you don’t sound convinced.
“It’s fine. Just don’t expect me to eat off this table.”
You have a smartass retort for that, he can feel it since he did, technically, eat off this table… but you’re too spent. Your chest only drops with a dramatic sigh.
After a much more thorough cleanup (including a change of clothes), Levi takes good care to restore (what is now) lunch to its former glory.
He’s proud of himself. Granted, all he’s had this morning is some tea, but his mouth waters from the smell.
Out on the porch, its overhang protects you both from the surprising amount of sun breaking through the silvery cloudcover this far into Yule.
However, the sharp air remains stubbornly chilled. In case you shiver, he retrieves a blanket that you drape over your lap.
In your respective cushioned chairs, you eat with your plates tucked in your laps.
“You, in a good mood, on your birthday,” you’re musing, that stupidly warm smile on your face. “That’s a first.”
Levi grunts. You couldn’t be more right; anything resembling a good mood and his birthday mingle like oil and water. There’s a one in 365 chance that it’s even accurate, but he genuinely doesn’t see what needs celebrating anyway.
He blames his actions the night before. It weighs on him heavily still, in the lightest of ways.
Cautiously, he pushes his cut of seared ham around on his wooden plate. He prefers everything to be separated, but now that that’s done, and the toast and eggs leave the faintest trace of crumbs, he still doesn’t feel quite right about it.
When he tasted the apple fritter, he had to pause and reel. Admittedly, he had never had it before; no matter if he’s given the opportunity, he’s quite picky when given a choice.
But how could he act wary? And it was fantastic.
Has he ever tried ham?
In that chaotic space of time before Maria fell but after he left the Underground behind, meat was much more of a commodity, but he was, and still is, a soldier. You like to say being a Scout specifically is a thankless job by everyone but the dead, and you would be right.
Underground “meat” on the other hand was almost always crawling with something, despite the fact that it always cost a fortune in comparison to most people’s incomes.
He supposes he’s a vegetarian, albeit against his will. Hange has a tendency to randomly blurt out facts about anything, and he’s heard that if a stomach isn’t familiar with ingesting a certain type of food, it usually can’t learn.
He hopes that isn’t true, for your cooking’s sake.
“Is it good for you?” he asks, mostly so you don’t point out his reluctance.
You fork more eggs into your mouth, nodding happily. “I’m very confident in my cooking ability, thank you.”
“Good. You should be.”
Your gaze flickers down to his plate. “It won’t bite you, you know. If you try it and decide you don’t like it, that’s fine. More for me.”
He grunts and leans back, one leg now crossed over the other. How would you know it’s his first time?—You must have a damn good eye for him.
“You shouldn’t’ve said that,” he remarks, flipping his fork backwards absentmindedly.
You scowl. “Absolutely not. At least try it first.”
“Remind me. Whose birthday is it?”
“You asshole,” you laugh, biting your lip to make it stop. “I don’t need any more.”
“But do you want more?”
Silence.
“...Tell me,” you set your fork down, “in exact words what you mean by that.”
These back-and-forths between you two are his purest form of entertainment.
“Are words so important?” he replies.
He sees you—nibbling at your lip like that. You like what he’s implying.
“It may be up to you, it’s your birthday, but at least let me suck you.”
His chest rises.
Your voice turns into silk. “You caught me off guard earlier. I deserve much better than that, don’t you think?”
A challenge. Setting aside the way his lower half stirs, he leans over and practically drops his plate into your hands.
“We’ll see.”
—
You suck, lick, and fuck him so good that you actually put him to sleep.
Well, partly.
After making good on your word, you let him fuck you to tears under a hot shower spray, but getting clean turned out to be irrelevant in the end. Soon afterwards, as naked as the day you were born, you shyly asked him, “Do you maybe wanna drink, this one time?”
And, after some thought, he said yes. It takes more booze than it’s usually worth for it to do anything for him, and when he does drink enough, he can’t be on his guard like usual. The anxiety of that is usually enough to take away his buzz.
Besides, after growing up seeing boozehounds everywhere he went—the (sometimes) uncharacteristic fits of rage, the burning stink, and the zombie-like idiocy about them—he has some convictions about drinking. If anyone asks, Levi doesn’t get drunk.
Opportunities always present themselves of course, but he only makes it a goal to get drunk on special occasions. That included tonight.
He popped the cork off a bottle of scarlet merlot. The mood was comfortable, you drank slowly, and you enjoyed yourselves. Even him.
You grew slow and slurry not two glasses in, so he dutifully refilled them (until you’ve had enough). It took him longer to get to where you were, but when the world finally began to narrow in that comforting way, the inexplicable warmth creeped in, and his mind began to buzz, he was with you.
Time stretched as you sipped the syrupy alcohol in front of a crackling fireplace. Mostly you chatted, but you also climbed on top of him there, and when it got late, he draped a thick, downy blanket around your bare shoulders.
Later enough for your bedroom to be an abyss, Levi twitches to awareness from a bottomless sleep in a stinking bed between stuffy sheets. He kicks them off as soon as he gets some handle over his leaded limbs, and rubs his eyes.
Sleeping so deeply, and waking with no memory of how he got somewhere is unheard of for him. His head is even still buzzing a little, despite the nausea.
Shit, is his first intelligent thought. I sleep when I drink.
It would be terribly easy to sleep some more. Only, when lazily reaching across the bed, he finds your warm, lumpy pillow, but not you.
Suddenly he’s wide awake, stone-cold sober, and shooting up in bed. You’re not here.
He tosses a look over. The bathroom is dark.
You’re probably getting water.
Anxiety tears him up anyway. He pulls himself out of bed.
With fresh briefs, an open shirt, and a pair of pants on, he paws his empty pockets.
He fishes through a pair of his boots. He’s very aware that carrying a weapon in these circumstances is the furthest thing from necessary, but his judgment is garbled—another reason he dislikes drinking.
After the dim hallway comes the stairs. He lets the banister guide him going down.
You’re getting water. The kitchen is cast in gold by a lantern set on the island, joined by the slaps of your bare feet padding around inside.
His anxiety blows away. After the last step he heads in your direction like a man on a mission.
Sleepy-eyed, you jerk your head up from your glass of water and smile just in time for Levi to wrap you in his arms from behind.
He sighs softly. Better. As you sway together, he makes like a baby possum and refuses to let go.
“Hm,” you murmur, relaxing against him. “Hi.”
“You left,” he speaks into your neck. You stink deliciously of sex. “Don’t do that.”
You seem to find this adorable. As you pet his hair, his annoyance melts away.
“I was only gone a second,” you say. “I was thirsty. What if I died of dehydration?”
“No,” vibrates against your shoulder.
“No?” you laugh. “Did you miss me that much?”
The drink makes his tongue loose. “You have no clue, do you?” Squeeze. “Jus’ don’t go anywhere I can’t follow.”
Your heart leaps into the sky. A grin breaks onto your cheeks as an obnoxious Awww falls off your lips. “You’re so fucking adorable, ‘Vi.”
You try to twist around in his arms, but he mistakes this as you pulling away, and only tightens his hold.
If that’s how it’s going to be, you go completely lax a moment, sending you both nearly toppling over.
As you wanted, he huffs against your hairline and pins you to him by your shoulders and middle, clinging.
“You’re the biggest brat I know.”
“Did you hear me? Adorable?”
He sighs. “I never know what to say when you call me shit like that.”
“You don’t have to say anything. You’re just adorable.” You hug his strong forearm that’s pinned across your chest. “With a heart of pure gold, who anyone would be lucky to know. The most brave, most handsome, most pretty—”
He makes another unhappy sound and reaches to clamp your mouth shut, which you don’t allow to happen.
“My Levi,” you sing-song. “Whom I adore.”
“This is torture,” he speaks softly. “Torturing me, after I made all this effort.”
“Effort to keep me from getting a drink of water?” you cackle.
“You don’t need—”
“And not torture—”
“—water, I’d get you some—”
“Levi, you’re being—” you laugh—
“—if you were really dehydrated.”
—so hard your sides twist into cramps. You laugh until there’s no air left in your lungs, so your belly merely wracks. At the same time, tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
You can feel him smiling softly against your hairline.
Oh, what you’d give to see.
“Levi,” you shake out the last giggles. “Fuck, I love you so much.”
He freezes, whatever face he was making slipping off his face. His stomach drops out of existence. “What?”
Did he not hear you right? He retreats backwards, causing you to spin back around.
“W-What did you say just now?” he asks again, no louder than a whisper.
That sober look on your face. He knows it was real, what you just said. The silence, so thick you couldn’t pierce it with a hacksaw, proves it and proves it.
Your mouth opens, shuts. “Levi.”
“What?” he asks again, now demanding. It’s hard to breathe suddenly. His face heats. He feels himself tense, as if for attack.
“I—I don’t know.” You blink, and that’s shock painted on even your own face. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t know?” he snaps, motionless. Even his shoulders rise and fall with his breaths.
He doesn’t know why he’s growing so upset. Loathing festers inside, and the more upset he becomes, the more it grows.
“It just slipped out,” tumbles out of your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” You stall, at a loss.
In the third person, he feels himself crashing through the floor outside his body, dropping out from underneath himself.
He takes another step, this time measured. A silent feeling screams for him to escape this situation, but another plants his feet to the floor.
His silence must be telling.
“No!” you exclaim, lips moving rapidly to explain. “I mean, I c-couldn’t help it. I wasn’t thinking, it just…” Your eyes glitter with tears. “I’m sorry.”
Suddenly, Levi doesn’t even trust his feet to hold him up. He is totally lost for words.
In the doorway that feeds into the sitting room, he discreetly holds onto it. His other hand lies limply by his side, nails digging into his palm.
“Wait,” you call from the same place, voice soft. “Are you going to leave?”
A beat passes before he shakes his head, disbelieving. What do you mean by that?—Do you have so little faith in him? His dry mouth stops him from asking.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
It’s hard to swallow. “...We should sober up.”
And so he retreats into the darkness, stopping briefly when the backdoor enters his sight. As much as he craves the fresh air, going that route would confirm every one of your fears.
He scours his memories. An empty bedroom sits on the ground floor, he remembers.
You insisted on remodeling that room, but inside, it still might as well be a sealed box besides the pathetic amount of moonlight pushing past the blinds, casting shadows.
He twists the knob all the way to shut it as quietly as possible, then staggers to the corner attached to the same wall as the door, and slides down into a sit.
He knows he’s being pathetic. As a kid, it was a good technique he used to hide. As a man, it lets him get an advantage over enemies. You’re not a threat.
He wrestles with his head silently and folds his knees to his chest while he waits for your steps. You’ve never invaded his space in the past, but tonight, he can’t be confident.
Tonight. He’s stuck on that all the sudden. Just a few hours ago was his birthday, but that feels so far away now.
Of course, you were drunk. That’s what troubles him. There’s a thin line, he’s found, between the truth slipping out of a drunk person, and saying things they don’t mean. It’s better he doesn’t trust a thing until you’re both sober enough to know for sure.
Partly, he wants to hear you say that it was a mistake. You’ve realized that his suspicions were correct: he really did trick you by seeping so much good out of you to take for himself. To make himself believe that he is not a murderer, a thief, and a bastard. How he needed your goodness because there is not a single bit of good inside himself, how he is so selfish that even without realizing, he deceived you.
How could he do that while you’re in the middle of this losing war against the Titans? you would ask him. You realize that he’s unlovable. He is so fucking unlovable in fact that he’s better off dying in battle tomorrow so at least he will be used for what he’s meant to be used for.
Partly, he wants you to slam the door open so hard it punctures the drywall, yank him up by his shoulders and scream in his face how foolish he’s being. Yes, he’s abnormal and far from perfect, and yes this world is a nightmare but the way you feel makes all that cease to matter.
You will pour your heart out to him and recite the specific moment you realized you love him, with tangible reasons he can replicate. You will promise to return to his side safely every day for the rest of your lives.
And partly, he doesn’t want to know.
His head pounds. He closes his eyes.
He used to hate, much more than he does these days, that he can’t remember a time his mother ever spoke the same. Granted, he doesn’t remember more than a few glimpses of his childhood—maybe because of the hunger and all the shit he survived—but either way, it’s more reassuring to imagine she never told him because she never needed to.
He isn’t naive, he knows that not all parents love their kids, but she did. He knew, without her having to say anything, that she felt that way.
His train of thought crashes against the sound of wood whining, signaling your ascent up the stairs.
Staring straight ahead, he breathes carefully and tames his hell of emotions.
Why does he feel this way? He said it too, just when you had no way of knowing he did. Emotion raged inside him then as well, but not as intensely as this.
He feels like a little kid staring up at that cold bed. Even though it crawled, and the stench hung thick in the air, he begged for her when she wasn’t conscious to hear, and never would be again.
He gnaws on his thumb. He doesn’t want to remember that.
It occurs to him, he didn’t think his feelings would be requited, deep down.
It’s a mystery to him how love can fit into this world at all, much less there be some reserved for someone like him—how you have room in your golden heart for someone like him. It takes a flick of the wrist to swing a knife, and it’s an automatic reaction to hit when you’re struck, but he’s an amateur with the rest.
Being born in violence, raised in it, trained at it to perfection—it just doesn’t add up. He thinks he will die in it as well.
But he knows his feelings for you by now. He knows most of all that it’s impossible to put them to bed, let alone destroy them.
He hugs himself, hissing softly. Because of everything else, he didn’t realize he was freezing.
He has scarcely felt so sober in his entire life. In fact, if a pin dropped in another room, he would hear it—he’s that alert—but he wants to give you more time.
To be sure, he thinks, knowing he’s putting the confrontation off. Partly, he doesn’t want to face you. But then, there’s another.
—
The floorboards whining under his steps on the second floor drone like alarms. He knows you know he’s coming now—there’s no way you’re asleep.
Terror thuds in his ears as he stares at the front of the bedroom door, willing himself. He is wrestling with thoughts he defeated a long time ago: whether he should knock, how to carry himself once inside, how you’re likely to react, and—
The turn of the knob is so sudden he locks up for an attack before the door whines open. Immediately, his eyes are on the floor.
“Are you…?”
Whether you’re about to say ‘mad’, ‘sober’ or ‘okay’—his next question is the same: “Are you?”
It rings in the air. You apologize before you sit down on the window sill.
His lips tug down. Whenever you apologize unprovoked, he thinks it’s for you simply existing, whether you know that or not.
“I’m so, so sorry. We can just act like it ever happened.”
He forces his lips to move. “Quit apologizing.”
“Why…?“ You look stumped. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear it.”
He stares from the doorway, back straight. In some way you’re right, but is it also possible you didn’t think he’d feel the same?
The doorframe is his only support. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you just… don’t.” It's a statement that sounds more like a question.
“That’s confusing.”
“Well sometimes,” you sigh, “you’re confusing, too. When I said it, you physically left the room to get away from me. Now here you are, making me feel stupid because I thought that meant you didn’t want to hear it.”
You’re extremely hurt.
His chest is cold. “It wasn’t you, it’s what you said. Without any warning. Then you said you didn’t mean it.”
“Oh.” The word sounds punched from you. “That’s not what I—”
His teeth grind. “How exactly did you expect me to react?”
You look down at your feet.
“I would be doing anything other than standing here if I didn’t—also feel that way.”
“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “Fuck, I’m crying.” You furiously wipe your eyes. “I meant it slipped out. I guess I just think about it a lot, s-so that’s what happened.”
“You think about it…?” he trails off, genuinely confused.
“I didn’t wanna put pressure on you. And you always—” you gesture vaguely, “—you always say stuff without saying it.”
He waits for you to go on, but you’re busy collecting yourself, wiping your eyes.
“You surprised me,” he offers, blandly.
“I know.”
But you weren’t the first to say it. It was a slip of the tongue on your part, even though your feelings are just as true as his.
For him, it was premeditated. He was sure.
For you two, this is a serious argument. He feels the need to get you both on the same page.
“You're wrong,” he tells you.
“What do you mean?”
For as long as he’s stood watching you, he looks away. “I said you’re wrong.”
Your lips part, moving, but not understanding. “Which part?”
“The last part.”
“A-About saying stuff?”
“Second to last,” he snarls.
“Pressure,” you sound out. “You said it?”
His cheeks heat, he’s excruciatingly embarrassed. “…Yeah.”
You look at him like he’s just grown a second head. “…Well, then—when? If you did, I would’ve heard you.”
“No. You wouldn’t have.” He shifts his footing and frowns at the look on your face. “Don’t make me say it… it’s embarrassing.”
A long, arduous silence thickens the air again. Hopefully you gather what happened—which mortifies him much more than if he just told you outright, making it seem as if it was casual for him.
Then he hears a heavier sniff, and his feet lurch into step. An ache permeates his fingers—which he notices only now—from knuckling the doorframe.
He paces over and sits down next to you, leaving space. Mostly for his own peace of mind.
“Levi… Why in the world would you do a creepy thing like that?”
He’s shocked to hear you sound coy. You’re even making a face when he glances over.
As usual, he doesn’t get the joke. He doesn’t have a good answer, either.
“J-Just to see.”
“See?”
“What would happen.”
You nod a little, expression even again. “When?”
“…What is this, an interrogation?”
“Well, for all I know…” you smirk a little, “…you said it two years ago, before we started dating. Or four years, when you were—”
“I get it,” he cuts in, scowling. “Quit guessing. They’re bad guesses, anyway. You’d never figure it out.”
“I doubt that.”
“Of course you do.”
You scoff, in mock-hurt, picking at your cuticles in that nervous way you never quit doing.
You’re smiling a little. He sees its radiance out of the corner of his eye. “And unlike me… you were sober,” you guess.
He clutches his hands into soft fists. “So? You can say anything while sober.” His lips press together. “Can’t you?”
“Yeah.”
With no room for urgency, you lay your head on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen.
He doubts he makes a good pillow right now; he’s so tense that if a brick was thrown at him, it would break into pieces.
It’s not like you to sit in silence—it doesn’t even feel like the conversation is over—but each moment drags. It feels like a long feather is stroking his insides, not because of what you’ll say, but the very words themselves.
“I love you,” you whisper, and he sucks in a swift breath.
He is at a crossroad: breathing hard, forcing control, or not breathing at all.
What this feeling is, is magma boiling up inside him and burning him alive, and he squeezes his eyes shut so tight it aches because he doesn’t know why he can’t just get over himself and be normal—to react normally to those words.
But it’s not too much.
Obediently, you raise your head to give him space. The look on his face is unimaginably pained, even tortured.
“...Is it okay?” You whisper this, too.
He swallows, and looks away. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I don’t know either, but I don’t care.”
It takes him several long moments before he can trust his voice. “C-Could you say it again? I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes, I can.” A smile is in your voice. “I love you. I love you, Levi.”
“Are—Are you sure?” he asks, voice raw.
Your breath shakes. “Yes.”
“Make sure.”
You humor him even though you can probably tell that he’s overwhelmed. It suddenly, just—sounds so good to hear it. So fulfilling.
You say it and say it, finally breathing life into what this is and giving it away fearlessly—or as fearlessly as one can speak despite their trembling breath.
While making knots out of his trousers, he shudders his own breath. If you touched him right now, he might explode.
You actually love him. Someone can, and it’s you.
“I love you,” you say, and gently, so gently, your hand lands atop his own.
“Levi.” You mouth at his hairline. “I love you. I love you with all my heart.”
He makes a face, teeth grinding so he doesn’t either snort, or give into shaking.
“You’re so fucking sappy, it makes me sick,” he rasps, pulling away.
You have a pretty laugh. As your hand moves to pull away, he abruptly takes it, and still not looking at you, pulls it to his lips.
That look on his face, you’re conflicted on. A deep frown tugs his lips down, and that wrinkle between his brow is more pronounced than ever, but he’s blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. Silvery blue eyes are open, shining softly.
“Levi.”
He pauses with your hand, as if contemplating something, before giving it the smallest of squeezes and letting it go.
You feel the need to preface, “You don’t need to say anything.”
So he doesn’t say anything. For a moment.
“It’s difficult for me.” His voice shakes, and he feels pathetic.
“I know.” You touch his shoulder. “But I know how you feel… you know?”
Nod.
Your expression reminds him of a tired dove. “I’ll be in bed, okay?”
Relief. He nods again. He’ll join you later, but he needs time to calm down, and to think.
He has never been happier in his whole life.
—
At the turn of the new year, your last days, you climb up on horseback behind Levi most mornings and spend afternoons going wherever the wind takes you, however long you want, doing anything.
Endlessly, forever, for both the first time and possibly your last.
That last evening midway through January, your cheeks still hurt from smiling so much. That day, you had stumbled upon the largest field of sunflowers either of you had ever seen and had a picnic, despite the sleet still layered on the ground.
Levi was quieter than usual, but if he wasn’t enjoying himself, even the slightest bit, he would’ve found some way to complain—which never happened.
The eternal struggle even momentarily drifted from your mind, which you had been wrestling: this war, its demands, its aftermath, and its end (if it will ever come). Slavery to the fight.
It was your idea to make your last evening last as long as possible by spending most of the night up talking and rating a ton of teas.
He didn’t have a single issue staying awake; you were the one who dozed off with your head propped up on your hand during the twilight hour.
Now he nudges open the stiff bedroom door with his back, taking care not to let your feet bump the doorway, nor for your neck nod off his shoulder.
After he lays you down in bed, you moan softly in your sleep and roll onto your side, away from him.
His lips quirk, just a little. You make it hard to help himself.
As soon as he’s curled up behind you, tangled in the sheets, you roll again and all but plant him on his back to lay your head down.
Nobody says anything. Maybe it just comes naturally to your sleeping self.
Levi’s lips quirk again.
He wants to sleep. Nights of solitude never truly bother him unless you’re sleeping peacefully; it’s an especially excruciating pit of loneliness that forms after an hour or two of finding patterns in the cracks in the ceiling. Only the guarantee that he will be ready for any possible emergency that concerns you (may it come or not) reassures him.
He can feel it. Sleep won’t come.
Until the mourning doves begin their crooning, his mind wanders around in pointless directions. Dawn’s grey light creeps in.
He sighs softly to himself to the tune of your soft snores. There’s still much to get done before you can properly go. He might as well get a headstart.
You’ll need the rest. Your mood is twice as antsy as his if you don’t get enough sleep compared to when he doesn’t sleep at all, which is saying something.
So he climbs out of bed.
By the time the sun has properly risen in the sky, Levi is laying out a small breakfast on the dining table; the lazy sound of wood creaking from upstairs was his signal.
The last of the butter melts on a crisp piece of toast next to a bunch of strawberries he sliced this morning. It’s the last of those, too.
You toddle down the wood stairs, which also whine under your steps, scrubbing sleep from your eyes.
“Good,” he greets you. “You’re dressed. Eat. You’ll need the energy.”
“Good morning to you too.”
He bites down on the inside of his cheek as you plop down in the chair. It’s not even a good mood that’s begging him to smile: you amuse him.
“Thanks,” you grunt, and take a real look at him. His insomnia is chronic enough for him to hide seamlessly, but you know him well (“Too damn well,” he likes to say.).
“Are you nervous?”
“There’s a lot to do,” he replies, sits, and crosses his legs with one arm slung over the chair back.
Truthfully, it’s hard to tell. This is more of a feeling of being sure something’s waiting around a coming corner, but he can’t tell if it’s a friend or a threat yet.
He resists the urge to rub his eyes. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a rock,” you sigh. “I can’t remember anything that happened after we tried that…” You blink hard. “Keemun.”
“Don’t look so guilty. I don’t sleep much.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
He’s pleased you never woke up while he carried you; the keemun was the best place to end things, anyway. It tasted as smooth as an expensive cigar, if rolled in baked plums and chocolate.
You’re leaving here with so many good memories, it hurts. The pain makes him wonder.
If the opportunity never presents itself for you both to return, or worse, he alone would be given it, then all that would ever remain in this place is ghosts.
He watches you nibble away at the last of your toast like a chipmunk, and knows for certain—he would always feel for you the same way, even if Yan didn’t “repay” him that “debt”.
Would he have told you he loves you?
No, he decides. His pessimistic side wants to write this while trip off as being lulled into a false sense of security.
To be fair, that’s what it is. False.
This bundle of peace is left standing bright at your retreating backs. One day, it could be a horrible memory, a reflection of broken dreams.
There are other dreams which wait to be fulfilled, but you will still be with him, as long as you don’t leave him behind.
He awkwardly clears his throat. “Do you think you’ll remember this in the future?”
You nearly spit out your toast. “Huh? Of course I will. Won’t you?”
“Yeah.” The bookshelf a few paces from the front door holds only a few lonely books now. He looks at that instead of you. “But that means missing it.”
“I know, but…” you wipe your mouth with a napkin, “…We’ll miss everything, you know?”
“Yeah, but this is… more than that.”
Your lips tug down, and he kind of wishes he didn’t say anything.
“More than everything?”
Yes.
“Forget it,” he says.
“…Would you rather we not have done it?”
No reply. You put what remains of your toast down. “You can be honest.”
“I’d rather not miss it.”
The good things are a blessing, and a curse. He knows too well what this world is majorly made up of—he needs to be ready for that. He can’t be sure of anything, including the good things.
But he forces himself not to regret. This winter, it was still good. He got to be with you. It isn’t what he learned to let himself do, or feel, or think—but not to do any of those things at all.
To simply be.
Comfort. False security. All these in passing turns a prick of pain that will inevitably come along into a thrashing whip. It makes one complacent and comfortable when they can’t afford to be. Tragedy waits, always.
He has never experienced such happiness, which is why he has never been so disappointed in himself for allowing himself to do so.
Quiet persists. You have your listening face on now, napkin crushed in one hand while you exchange soft blinks.
“I don’t mean to shit all over the mood, but I want your opinion,” he decides. “…D’you think this was for nothing?”
You reach across the table and lay your hand on his.
“Nothing’s for nothing,” you say.
He wants to believe you.
—
As you expected, Levi has double his weight in bags slung over his shoulders when he pokes his head in the bathroom.
“How long is it gonna be till you’re ready?—Another month?”
“Hm. More like two,” you reply, smiling.
A scoff, followed by the clacks of his boots retreating out the front door.
And you keep smiling. Really, all that’s left to do is take a cursory look around to make sure nothing got left behind.
Retreating from the bathroom, you stand at ease and examine the bookshelf in the hallway. It feels different than leaving the dining table, or even the bench off the side of the house.
You really read a horse’s weight in books while you were here. Most of the books themselves are still with you, but… it won’t be the same.
Only the rumpled spine of one and the faded covers of a few others are left stacked neatly in one desolate corner. Those ones were bad, and not in the fun way, you both agreed (these days you more often than not read together).
You took your all-time favorite stories with you, which you’ll treasure until they too are faded. The classics as well, the just-okays, and the bad ones that turned out somehow fun.
The few so contrived, goofy and terrible that you begged to keep, because it made Levi honestly, earnestly laugh—and sometimes a little louder, more than once.
You step off the front porch steps, feeling torn, yet oddly fulfilled.
Nothing’s for nothing. A moment within a lake of millions, but you want to remember them all, all the same.
This one especially.
—
It takes three hours under a cold, clean sky to reach Trost. By then, the afternoon sun is high and there is much unpacking to be done.
Levi slapped away your sticky fingers every time you insisted on helping carrying a lumpy bag or box inside from the front.
“I got it,” he bitched earlier. “You don’t need to do anything.”
“But I want a job!”
He scoffed. “Fine. I have one for you: sit down and look pretty. You think you can do that?”
You roll your eyes at the memory as he passes down the small set of stairs by you. You’re still brooding, planted on top of a flat stone column just outside the tall doors.
He knew you would, but then you make a game out of it, much to his chagrin.
For every one of his treks, you pat him somewhere—usually the top of his head—but he never knows where you’re going to aim next.
He dodges a flick to his elbow.
“Woah, you look unsteady,” you say, tone full of artificial concern. “You need help?”
He catches your wandering eyes with his cheek pressed against the cardboard box in his arms. “Don’t you have anything better to do besides distract me?”
You smile. “I can stare.”
He rolls his eyes.
Two trips later, you get dangerously close to his backside. He manages to pivot just in time and stares you down suspiciously, a box under one arm and a knapsack slung over one shoulder.
He doesn’t even look surprised anymore.
All you do is smirk.
In the end, you win that one.
It’s a blessing that HQ is still unpopulated. That’s the way it’ll be until next week, something Levi planned far in advance.
All for the better in his mind. A Scout, someone from your squad a long time ago (and who apparently almost beat him to asking you out for Mayfest a couple years ago) left the Corps early last spring. He had gotten married to a scullery maid out of Klorva District. Weird.
You put up the wagon while he stabs a familiar key into a familiar lock, and steps into his familiar quarters.
His nose scrunches as he surveys his office. He can physically see the dust particles floating in the air, especially in the glow of the windows, thanks to the afternoon sun above.
Scraping his fingertips underneath the desk confirms his suspicions.
This place is a wreck, he thinks, scowling at nothing in particular.
But after wiping his hands off with a handkerchief, he does find something to scowl at. A white wicker basket sits in his chair. It’s adorned with red and pink frills, a bunch of fresh fruit, and even… a teddy bear?
He snatches up the card on the bear’s lap, and as he reads, his glare darkens.
‘Hope your honeymoon was productive! (I know it wasn’t officially a honeymoon, but why else would you take a vacation? Levi? Vacation? Ha!)
Mike insisted I buy you this stuffed bear in preparation for the next nine months! I can’t wait to have another little Levi runn—’
Levi tears his eyes away from the card. Fucking four-eyes.
Using a stool, he gets the thing stuffed up high in a closet behind a carton of cigars. Those are for special occasions; he has no more fitting place for the basket (except for the fruit, which he stores in the kitchenette).
Just in time. Outside his office, the door opens, then thumps shut to the sound of your boots clicking as you cross the floor.
“Everything’s put away,” you tell him proudly.
“Good. I have work to do,” he replies without turning, setting the stool back in the corner of his office. “You have anything you need to do first?”
You get an early start on paperwork while he takes a much-deserved shower. After that, you work together in comfortable silence.
A sense of coming home crashes over him after he randomly blinks out of focus from his current sheet of paperwork. This one contains a list of grades and statistics of Cadets who seem likely to join up this coming spring.
He glances over at you without moving his head—you, bathed in gold thanks to the sunset moving across his desk.
Another random fact of Hange’s enters his mind: apparently, pregnant women’s skin tends to glow. Something about hormones.
Your pencil scratches paper.
He covers his warming cheeks with the back of his hand and averts his gaze. That stupid basket.
Work. Surprisingly, he spots one name on the page he remotely recognizes. Jaeger. A doctor with the same name was famous in Shiganshina for curing an epidemic several years back.
The next time he looks up, you’re planting a bowl of stew down on his desk, green tea and bread included.
He takes a breath, and his mouth instantly waters. He forgot to eat lunch earlier.
Then you place a hand in his hair. He glances up towards your fond smile.
“Do you wanna start the fireplace after you’re done eating?”
A wave of affection crashes over his chest. “Have you eaten?”
“I’m about to,” you reply. “So?”
“Yeah. Thank you.”
By the time your bellies are warm and full, he has stoked the logs enough to get a real fire going. Past the sitting room’s windows, which stretch across the entire back wall, snow floats down in weightless drops.
He stores the poker away, stands, then turns. Your arms are open.
“C’mere.”
That same feeling flips his chest over again. He pins his tongue between his teeth before quickly approaching.
You tug him down until he lays sideways down the sofa, his head in your lap and facing the fireplace. Despite you being sat right in the middle, he’s still too short for his feet to knock against the armrest.
“I had to get that stew from the mess hall,” you’re murmuring, tucking dark bangs behind his ear. “It wasn’t that good.”
“Your standards are too high,” he replies, leaning into your palm. Everything is so warm.
“Oh? What’re my standards?”
“Your cooking. Of course everything else tastes bad in comparison.”
You laugh at this. “You’re too kind.”
Huffing, he closes his eyes and covers his face lips with a loose fist.
You’re so wrong it hurts.
He never wants you to stop.
A different realization hits him. This doesn’t feel too different from some nights you spent back on a whole other world, at the cabin.
He blinks off into space. It is just a house, a place. There would be nothing nearly as enticing about it if you weren’t there with him.
“You okay?” you ask. “You’re more quiet than usual.”
He rolls over to face you. As you slouch a little, getting comfortable, he moves with you.
“When I first got inside, this basket of fruit was sitting on my desk from four-eyes. I’m trying to figure out how they got in.”
Through giggles, “Was anything missing?”
“I don’t think so.” He was too stressed out at the time to check thoroughly. “But still.”
A thin, felt blanket is pulled off the back of the couch, then laid over him, up to his shoulders.
He turns his head.
“You looked cold,” you offer as an excuse, and he rolls his eyes, even though he was.
The fire was also dying down, but since you didn’t say anything, he didn’t stand to get it.
Typically, he would do it anyway, but…
You pet his hair down, scratching gently at his scalp.
It can wait.
He looks much more comfortable now that he’s covered up. A spontaneous memory unfurls in your mind, when losing Wall Maria. You think about forgetting those three days all the time, but the memory of that one night (or early morning? It’s hard to remember) you want to keep forever.
He was so shy then. And much more aloof. When you embraced him, that was the first time you had ever hugged a steel pole.
“We’re both still alive, but if you want to keep it that way, get some rest. Otherwise I’d have to tag along to make sure you don’t die. Doesn’t sound fun, does it?”
You bite down a bittersweet smile while what feels like big wings flutter in your chest. Was that really five years ago?
“What’s so funny?”
Your eyes meet Levi’s scrupulous ones. Most of his expression is hidden in your shirt.
“Nothin’.”
Yeah, right, he thinks, but his eyes fall shut to feel your hand carding his bangs all the way back over his forehead.
That’s something Mom used to do, if he remembers right, especially after cutting the rat’s nest that was usually his hair.
His childhood had more peaceful times than he gives it credit for. This time, though, he aims to keep these times from ever stopping.
He isn’t foolish. As long as Erwin’s dream hasn’t come to fruition, the fighting won’t cease. It may never stop, at least by the time he’s no longer there to fight for it, but he knows some things for sure.
You two will never be normal—he has long-since accepted that. As long as he has this, you, he can make peace with his more selfish dreams.
Within the coming months, the 104th batch of recruits will be up for the chopping block; a bunch of brats spit out into the three branches like marbles. Erwin will give his honeyed speech, and Levi will be near, and he won’t have to say much.
Some of those marbles will land in the Survey Corps, most won’t. But those few are more brave, or foolish, than any slack-jawed cow of a noble could ever fully grasp.
And finally, always, when you two return to HQ—bustling or sparse, the day heavy or light—you will be with him.
Home. He knows what that means now, and it doesn’t have to be a place. Maybe you will stretch his legs across his lap, or make a casserole. Maybe he will replace the flowers in your vase that you accidentally neglect often enough to worry him.
He will feel time wandering and expanding, daring him to believe your midnight conversations will stretch on forever.
They won’t, but he has made peace with that. This life is, in fact, more heavenly than he ever could have imagined wanting for himself, let alone making.
You and he will simply have to fight, within an inch of your lives at worst, in order to keep it.
The End.
| levi masterlist | main masterlist |
#levi ackerman smut#levi x reader#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman x you#levi smut#aot smut#levi x you#levi#levi ackermann x reader#levi x mc#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x y/n smut#levi ackerman x female reader#captain levi x reader#captain levi x you#captain levi ackerman#levi ackerman fic#aot levi#levi attack on titan#anthology#g.scribe#Spotify
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hiiiii you don't need to reply to this i just wanted to say thank you for the kimbliza :)c its always refreshing to see riza rarepairs and i think your brain is huge for liking kimblee/riza ... i rarely see people being interested in it and i think thats a shame when they only have one interaction in the entire series BUT it is kimblee calling riza out on her bullshit while also calling her ojouchan/little lady like cmon... just that leaves possibility for such an interesting dynamic.... and im personally obsessed with the valentines day art bc this meme instantly came to my mind when i saw it LMAO anyway!! thanks again for sharing your kimbliza i hope to get to see more of your art/thoughts of them!!! have a nice day!!
Omg thank you so much! :D I don’t usually answer asks like these out of self-consciousness but the meme is too accurate to keep to myself and you are sooo right! I loved your tags as well lol they gave me a good chuckle.
I can’t find the post again, but I once read a post that went like "the reason that you’re both touch-starved and touch-averse is that you’ve spent so long without human touch that you interpret every contact as a threat" and I really do think that fits them both. Hehe might as well put a song I love here that fits them and this theme really well: Touch by July Talk
If you want more of my thoughts, @fumifooms is the blog to look at! I’ll link my kimbliza tag on there here. I recently did a sort of masterpost of kimbliza crumbs in canon because I am starved. I’ll also shout out @tombraxas because they churn out awesome kimbliza posts and fanfictions regularly! I owe it to them for having radicalized me as a kimbliza shipper lol
Kimblee literally meaningfully impacted Riza’s character fundamentally so hard like damn!! For a rarepair that is a massive win. Idk the interaction they had feels so special. I do think people tend to forget that Kimblee doesn’t say the things he does out of malice, ouugh he’s so interesting!!
I think Kimblee and Riza have soo many parallels actually. Blunt and strong convictions vs quiet, reserved and a follower. Both ready to kill their superior/commanding officer if the situation demands it. His iconic “don’t avert your eyes from the dead” speech was originally meant for her not Roy and no one can take any of this away from me. I’m like Denji eating the cake with my hands lolol. The flavor kimbliza has is simply unmatched. Riza is my special wet cat little war criminal princess (Wet cat and war criminal have the same first letters, if not equivalent then explain 🤨 /j)
I do plan on making more kimbliza art yes! I actually have a few actual Valentine’s day themed ones in the works lol. I’m rather slow and busy though… ;w; Also fics! I’ve already made two short ficlets, see them on my ao3! I’ve been hyperfixating on them for like 2 months now with no sign of stopping… I have so many wips. My kimbliza spotify playlist is my longest playlist ever 😭 I scoured both ao3 and ff.net and read everything about them I could find. I may be obsessed.
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intro + tag masterpost
hi!! i honestly didn’t expect to get this many followers so quickly but i did (thank you for that btw!! <3) so i figured i’d make this post c:
about me!
name: tuna
age: 21
pronouns: any but they/them is preferred
gender identity & sexuality: non-binary + pansexual
ethnicity: filipino + belgian
languages: english + dutch (fluently) french + japanese (not so fluently)
main obsessions i mostly post about: ace attorney + professor layton + trigun + spider-verse
tags for original posts!
#tuna stuff: collection of all original posts, including rambles and random personal life stuff
#tuna memes: homemade memes straight from the tuna can, including the ace attorney meme masterpost
#tuna art: doodly doodles by yours tuna
#tuna fics: all my fanfictions! if you like narumitsu then boy do i have something for you
#tuna collection: where i show off all my fandom merch and collectibles! i try to take a lot of pics for those who are interested so definitely do check it out if you like stuff like that c:
#ace attuna: ace attorney related original posts
#tunagun: trigun related original posts
#tunaverse: spiderverse related original posts
#professor tuna: professor layton related original posts
please do!
send asks! whether it be stuff you wanna know about me, my opinions on things, requests for fics/art, whatever!
put tags when you reblog my original posts! i LOVE reading what people have to say about what i make, it really does make my day c:
let me know if i need to tag any trigger/content warnings! i want this blog to be a safe space for everyone
please don’t!
be discriminatory in any way. basically homophobes, racists, transphobes, terfs, misogynists, etc dni
ask me to make stuff related to inc*st, r*pe, under*ge, p*dophilia, be*stiality. mostly adding this bc i really don’t like plantcest (vash x knives)
be mean to me i will cry
that’s the most important stuff i think! thanks for reading and welcome to my blog! there’s some extra info about me under the break if you happen to be interested in that uwu
misc/useless stuff about me!
other media i like but don’t post about: it’s always sunny in philadelphia, b99, community
fav music: fob, panic!, mcr (i know i’m emo), indigo la end, kenshi yonezu, eve, the killers, car seat headrest, idkhbtfm, and like many more lol
i currently have 18 tattoos and am planning to get many more!
i am autistic and have adhd lol
i collect lucky cats and have a lucky cat tattoo!
i have a tattoo on my butt that i got as prt of a bet
i am engaged!
my favorite colors are primary colors
i’m not really religious myself but i love learning about them!
i love raccoons and relate a lot to them
outside of drawing and writing, i also really love acting and singing, as well as learning languages and solving puzzles!
i play ukulele, guitar, and bass! self taught tho so like. i suck lol
if you read all that, you’re like. super cool. i like you. have this cat as a reward
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okay! i got a buncha tags from @insanityofvaas but i was away camping so im gonna make a masterpost of all of them. ty for all the tags buddy :)) under the cut
1. Music Monday (except not on a monday because? time??)
The rules: Post a song that is relevant to your WIP or inspires it. I’m also including the lyrics.
oof ok i dont have any WIP's rn but i recently wrote gus thought about which is a micro gusmax fic. it made me think of "Never Did" by Perfume Genius.
It's all part of his plan
It's all in his hands
But I never asked for it
But I never did
It's all part of his plan
It's all in his hands
In the basement
In it
2. What Horror Trope Are You?
Did this one for my boy Joel!
Quiz Result:
this tracks bc joel adopted a street cat called micki :) pretty on the nose.
3. Who Would You Be in a Fantasy Society
Did this one for Joel as well.
Quiz Result:
teehee yeah
4. Last Song Listened Tag
Is it wrong to understand
The fear that dwells inside a man
What's it like to be a loon
I liken it to a balloon
I, I, I danced myself out of the womb
I danced myself out of the womb
Is it strange to dance so soon
I danced myself into the tomb
But when again once more
Solid good song. Would recommend.
5. *sighs* BDSM Test Results.
i did this for Joel bc the only way ur seeing my results is if hell freezes over.
yknow what? im tagging God in all of these. do it. you wont. pussy.
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me going through the ssoss fanart on my own blog bc i like looking at the condensed timeline of it but Also bc ive recently entered the hypetrain for my own fic again bc people are talking about it: free serotonin babey!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#ignorance cloud on#the ssoss tag on my blog Is just fanart rn#bc my plan is to make a masterpost of the fic when i post the final chapter and then tag that so its one of the top posts in the tag#but also ohhhh....oh i love my friends so much they are so nice to me#seeing izel freak out abt it last night when i woke up this morning was just free happy juice#AND THEN TODAY ENDED UP BEING GOOD BC MY PACKAGE CAME SO LIKE. NOT SAYING EGG MADE THE DAY RIGHT BUT THEY MADE THE DAY RIGHT#FATE LINED THAT ONE UP FOR ME#also im so excited to see what else they do bc they said they were rlly inspired and that makes me go 0.0#but ALSO like i just love everyone so much who's been nice abt ssoss like thank yall#this really went from like a fun hobby to one of the only Good Things i did in 2020#AND ITS GOT ME THINKING ABT MY FUTURE IN A NEW FUN AND EPIC WAY SO POG!!!!!!#anyways. next chapter might be soon??? i wanna give 8 time to breathe but also like...ideas#i mean i start school on tuesday so we'll see where my motivation is in a few days ig ghrgbhjgrbhjrg#I REALLY JUST WANNA TALK ABT SSOSS OKAY IM JUST THINKING ABOUT IT. FEEL FREE TO SEND ASKS IM JUST IN A MOOD
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Lost fic masterpost 2.0
This is the new masterpost list for lost fics we haven't found ourselves yet and we need some help with finding. This list contains all asks that are asked after May 31st, 2018. If you asked us something before that date and it hasn't been answered, please check out our Last Chance Asks post first, if it isn't on there feel free to send us the ask again.
If you know what one (or more) of these are then let me know through an ask and mention the number.
Thanks in advance for all your help :)
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1.
Hii! I'm looking for this fic I read a while ago, it was on ao3 and kind of short I think.. Stiles catches Derek smoking weed naked, and it involves shotguning.. I remember it had embeded images of shirtless Derek(or some model who looks like Derek more likely) sitting on the floor by the bed.. Hope somebody knows this, I really want to find this :'(
2.
Hi! I don’t know if you can help with this but I’ve been looking for a fic everywhere. Stiles is older than Derek and Talia brings him in to help Derek through his rut or heat. I can’t remember much else. I hope you can help!
3.
Hey, I was wondering if you could help me find a fic where stiles thinks Derek doesn't find him attractive Derek doesn't get hard, and Derek thinks that stiles doesn't want him because of this and there's just hella miscommunication?
4.
Hey I was hoping maybe you could help me find a fic? All I remember was that is was like a retelling of season one but Stiles was older and an FBI agent?
6.
Hey there! I wanted to ask about a fic I read some time ago. It’s sort of au. Stiles doesn’t live in Beacon Hills anymore but helps out Deacon and him and Derek meet when he helps out Dereks pack with something. He’s a witch or something like that. I’m sorry for being so vague and in one of the cases Derek gets possessed by a demon, who kills people by dehydrating them. And Stiles gets the demon out of him. Have you guys recced anything like it? I really want to read it again. Thanks :)
7.
Hey!!!! So I was wondering if you could help me find this sterek fic?? They are married and they have a few kids I think mpreg. It has a lot of chapters and in one of them their daughter I think her name may start with an l goes to a dance with a vampire, Derek isn’t so sure ab it. And one time stiles has to go on a trip for work or maybe a retreat with Scott and Derek has to console there few month old, as he hasn’t been away from stiles. Please please!!
8.
I was wondering if you’d be able to help me find a fic? Derek and Stiles are on a date and they have Cora with them. When they’re buying tickets, the person at the ticket counter flirts with Derek and assumes he’s chaperoning a date between Cora and Stiles. I think Stiles yells oh hell no and then kisses Derek?? I wish I could remember more, but that’s all I recall..
9.
I've been looking for a certain nsfw fic where someone "gives" Stiles to Derek as a birthday present, I'm pretty sure Stiles is tied up in a hotel bed or something like that. Thank you so much in advance 💖
10.
Hello! I read a fic once and I cannot find it again and I would really like to reread it. Of what I remember the sheriff is an alpha and dies and Stiles has to take over and the sheriff left a lot of debt. So Stiles starts to sell off chunks of land and works a ton of jobs to try to pay it back.
11.
Hey, I’m looking for a fic where Stiles is a spark, but he’s hella freaking powerful because when his mom died he kind of tried to bring her back, but it latched onto his baseball bat? I think Lydia is actually the alpha of the pack, and Laura and Cora are alive (I think the rest of the Hales are too?). Derek was like, literally married to Kate for a while and then they divorce and Stiles and him break into her house and totally trash it. Help????
12.
I was wondering i you could help me find a fic (i'm desperate), the only thing i can remember is that derek keeps a 20 dollar bill by his door in case any girl scouts come by, but they never come because the moms think he's some kind og bad guy. Stiles meets a girl scout mom and konda confront her about it (and by confront i mean like really yell at) i think it might have been a slowburn fic Thank you:)
13.
I've been looking desperately for this fic where Stiles gets Emissary/Druid training from Deaton but eventually Deaton refuses to teach Stiles anymore so Stiles leaves Beacon Hills in search of another teacher he leave sometime before the alpha pack he finds a teacher and travels a lot but eventually returns Beacon Hills after a few years very powerful helps them defeat somthing and eventually hooks up with Derek.
14.
Hi please if u could help me this sterek fic? Both derek and stiles were deputies . Derek was new there and parrish like stiles which made Der jealous . I dont remember much but help ..
15.
Hey I was hoping you could help me find a fic? It's been a while since I've read it, but I know it was based around the sacfricial killings, but they were being used to resurrect some people I think? It was magic!Stiles, and at the end he kinda changed the spell to resurrect the Hale family instead? Sorry I can't remember much else, but I know I really enjoyed it and I can't find it at all. It would mean a lot if you found it!
16.
Hello. Love this blog helping find fics for other people some of which I’ve read and loved. I’d love if you could help me find a fix where stiles, Jackson, Erika, issac and Boyd are selected to be seventh to the hale family. Mr. Harris is the servant and the living family is Cora Derek Laura Peter and the grandmother. Stiles of course is Derek’s servant and finds the truth out about his forgotten pass and what he is to Derek’s. Changing him Erika and issac into werewolf’s. Hope you can find!!
17.
Hello! I was wondering of you could help me find a fic. From what I remember, Derek comes home (from college I think) for the first time in years, and finds that his family loves Stiles, who he has never met. They hate each other in the beginning. Thank you for any help you can give, and thank you for all you do for this amazing fandom! :D
18.
hi!im looking for a sterek fic that has stiles staying in beacon hills as a supernatural doctor? and then he gets an email from derek that says that derek is hurt. stiles also has a bunch of journals full of information about the pack. and them stiles has a really bad leg injury. and the sheriff is dead. stiles listens to either mozart or bach to calm down, i can’t remember. please, help me. sorry if my descriptions are a little messy, im stressing over it bc i want to reread it. thanks.
19.
i’m trying to find a fic where the pack accidentally wishes on a shooting star about stiles, and they wake up in this alternate universe where stiles doesn’t know who they are and he’s being brought in by deputies, && they find out that stiles is a mage of some sort in another pack, i’ve been trying to find it forever. also thank you!
20.
For the prompt you asked: what about Stiles going crazy trying to plan the perfect Christmas party with the pack but everyone has a different religion or belief and Stiles is squishing a little of everything in there, the party wont even be on Christmas eve but in a different neutral date or smthng. And obviously since most of the pack is still busy with school(or college?)he ropes Derek into helping with preparations. Obviously they end up making a big mess out of everything. they also fight a lot untill Derek snaps and Stiles realizes that Derek's only problem with Christmas is he misses his family so much(and the only reason Stiles wants to party it's bc it makes him remember his mother)And the pack arrives at the new Hale house to find them like that, depressed and with a burnt out dinner in the kitchen, ligths popped and tree destroyed. And it magicaly snows in that moment(or maybe it's Stiles?)
21.
Hi, sorry for my bad english. I’m looking for sterek fic. I know I read it in AO3. I don’t remember much but almost in the end Stiles and Chris are arguing because all the stuff his family did. How bad Stiles was tortured by Gerard and I think Stiles was pemanently injured in one ear and one eye. And also Chris was yelling that he killed his father and Stiles said in the end it didn’t mather because He was damage forever. I really hope you can help me.
22.
hi, so i was hoping you could help me find a sterek fic where stiles and derek are childhood friends, and stiles is pining after him but derek and paige are dating, and stiles gets jealous when paige is sitting in his seat and almost has a mental breakdown? i think stiles starts ignoring him, and derek realizes that he no longer sees paige as his future mate but stiles. thank you!!
23.
Hi, Sterek fic I can't find. With Stiles drowning, bc of himself or feelings being too much, Derek notices and saves him, and the Derek warms him by turning into his alpha form? Stiles really like shifted Derek. Thank you guys! :)
24.
Hi I was wondering if you could help me find these 2 sterek fics where: 1. Derek and stiles are on a stakeout looking at a bank I think when someone approaches the car and Derek pulls stiles into his lap and stiles begins to question his sexuality and if Derek likes him. 2. God I can’t believe I didn’t save this one but I can only remember a scene in the fic where stiles and Derek were at a drive though movie theatre and they were kissing and it was all about Derek self healing. Pls help.
25.
Hey I'm trying to find this fic on archive that I read before but I can't seem to find it. If you don't do this sort of thing sorry in advance. But if you do all the teenagers are alive and Stiles is getting bullied by a group of douches so the pack challenge them to a series of games. Girls vs girls and boys vs boys. They win of course. Anyway if you know of this fic please let me know
26.
I need help finding a fic pls. Stiles meets Derek young (around 4ish) and they're soulmates (Derek knew when Claudia was still pregnant). There is def an age gap. Stiles grows up knowing Derek is his mate, and tries to mate with him, but because they spent so much time together while he was young, stiles's wolf develops quicker than it should and goes into heat, so they try to separate them. Mama S. and Hale family is still alive, and theres an alpha/alpha mate convention at some point. Thanks!
28.
hey! i'm looking for a fic where stiles is living on the east coast working for the government and then he saves somebody's life by recognizing that the agent was walking into a trap of a vampire coven so he starts working with this supernatural sector of the government (and people named jessica and jason i think) and gets sent to a national council thing and reconciles with derek and the pack after having left beacon hills and stuff
29.
Hi! ❤️ thank you so much for taking the time, I was just hoping someone could help find that sterek fic where it’s established relationship, and stiles works for a company because he came up with a famous slogan for some type of candy/food and the company rlly loves him, at one point goes on a business trip where someone tries to have an affair and stiles is like WHUt NO and goes back to Derek immediately feeling guilty even tho he was 100% loyal? Thank youuuu ❤️
30.
Hello! I love this blog a lot , keep up the good work. :) I was recently reading a fanfic where stiles is kidnapped by jennifer and she uses derek’s semen in a spell to make the “werewolf messiah”. Can you help me find it?
31.
I am looking for a fic. Derek is the alpha and he and stiles get together and cook meals. First Boyd is added to the group and then Isaac. Isaac becomes a foster of Boyd's parents. Then Erica is added. They give Erica the bite after discussing it with her parents. Please help
32.
Hi! Looking for a fic where Stiles is bitten by a fox at the zoo, changes into an actual fox, which means he’s terrified of the werewolves, including Scott and Derek. Derek has to lure him out with a trampoline (definitely inspired by that video of a fox on a trampoline). I looked everywhere I could think of but no luck :/ hopefully someone’s heard of it! Thank you!
34.
Hi! I’m scouting the internet for an old sterek fic I read once where stiles and Allison bond over the summer after s2 and in a drunken mistake Allison gets pregnant but it’s not romantic? I can’t find even a trace of it anywhere but I VIVIDLY remember it
35.
Not a fic Rex but could you help me find a fic? It’s been months apon months since I have read this fic but it’s a sterek fic and stiles was kinda of controlling and would never be a good bf to Derek so they never did anything derek wants to do only stiles. And I remember they talked about it and were getting better and Derek asked to go on a hike to show stiles this pond or something idk for sure and stiles almost says no and it’s angsty and amazing.
36.
Hi! I've been looking for a fic that I read a while ago, I don't know if it's been deleted or not and I don't remember it clearly. But from what I remember, at some point Derek stayed with Stiles and his dad in his wolf form because he was traumatized and felt like he was inconvenient to everybody? Sorry I'm not being very clear but if that rings any bell... Thank you!
37.
hi! There was this Sterek fic form Isaac's POV where he was Stiles' PA and he really shipped him with Derek, but all the other two do is fight-- and in the end, he finds out they've been married for around 5 years. Do you know it's linked, by any chance? :)
39.
Hey! I’ve been looking everywhere but I can’t find this Sterek fic and was wondering if you could help me? All I remember is that Stiles is pregnant, him and Jackson are really close friends, and something about ‘is Thursday a good day to tell your ex you’re pregnant?’. Thank you so much if you could help! ❤️
40.
Hello! Okay so I have my been here in a while, but I've ran out of fics to read. And I'm not sure if you guys are still active. But do you guys have some where Sterek start dating, but it's because one of them like the other and the other one thought, "why not?" But they end up falling for the other. Sorry I know this is too specific. :/ but thank you!!!
41.
I'm looking for a fic that Stiles was invited to Derek's wedding to Julia/Jennifer, but it turns out he was magically controlled to go along with everything so she'd have control of the pack???? Eventual sterek.
42.
Hiiii! I'm wondering if you can help me. I read this fic forever ago and it was a supernatural FBI type situation. Stiles was magic and sold potions on the side (I know to at least Ethan). Deucalion was selling drugs that were killing people. I remember that the drugs made you hover in the air before you died and Stiles got drugged (also pretty sure he was a suspect). Derek was an agent. Thanks in advance!
43.
Hey I'm really sorry to bother i am looking for a fic were stiles and derek are in a long term relationship but derek starts to neglect stiles so he decides to leave for a new apartment and derek realizes how much he has been missing. thank you i hope you can help me
44.
Hey! So I’m looking for 2 sterek fics that might have been deleted but I’m not sure. The first, someone is poisoning the wolves to makes them shift, and stiles and Derek get locked in a cage so that Derek would kill stiles. The second one, the pack goes to college, but Derek breaks up with stiles to keep him safe, and stiles starts taking pain killers. The Alpha pack shows up, but at the end Peter tries to kill Scott or Derek to become an alpha again. Any idea? Thank you!!!
45.
Hey I'm looking for a sterek fic and going out of my mind because I cant find it! All I remember is that they had at least one kid together and in the epilogue or sequel or something they were having a family dinner where their college age oldest daughter was bring home her boyfriend to meet the family. And I think the younger brother was non-binary of some sort and they were worried how the boyfriend was going to handle that. And werewolves existed but still a secret. Thank you in advance!!
50.
Im sorry i might be stupid but i cant find the askbox, im looking for a fic where stiles and derek are mates and there might be a abo dynamic, derek knows they are mates before stiles is born because he meet Claudia while she i pregnant, they start of young in the fic but get older as i goes. I must have been an explicit one. Sorry for any inconvinience
51.
a.
Hi! Looking for a stereo college au where stiles is obsessed with Greek mythology and even got a tattoo of it. Some internal homophobia in there too. Thank you in advance!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
b.
hi! i am looking for this sterek fic i read last year I think. Stiles and Derek are both in college and Stiles is crazy about greek mythology - has some of the stuff tattooed on him. Derek is kind of closeted and maybe a little internally homophobic but is crazy about Stiles. Stiles has some Dark Things that happened to him back in BH.....Eventually Derek gets him a ticket to go to Greece? Any ideas? Thank you in advance!
I think these two are asks for the same fic, if not I seperated them in a. and b. so let me know the latter if they are not the same.
53.
Hello, sorry I have another ask. I'm looking for a fic where werewolves are known and the hale family is alive. Stiles has to spend time with every member of the pack to determine compatibility I think? They all dislike him. Laura hates him because they had a previous encounter and she bruises him. It's a sterek fic I think. Thanks!
54.
there's a fic i read years ago about stiles and derek both being accountants and working together. i think stiles was a new employee? possibly a student/graduate? sorry i dont have much information, its been years since i read it and i just randomly thought about it but cant find it
55.
Hey! I swear I got this Fic from y’all but I cannot find it now for the life of me. It’s a college AU where stiles rushes fraternities on a whim and meets Boyd. Boyd is a legacy for Derek’s fraternity and joins them, Stiles ends up rushing and joining Scott’s fraternity. There’s a whole bunch of pranking that ensues including Stiles stealing Derek’s pledge paddle... it’s a fantastic fic but I can’t find it
56.
hi!!! i was wondering if you know the fic where the pack finds actual wolf cubs and decides to raise them??? i remember it being a WIP and the wolves names were sköll and haiti (?). btw: i love this blog so much 😭😭💝
57.
hi! I’ve been looking for a fic where stiles (for a reason that I forget) pretends to be gay and ends up dating Derek while still pretending to be gay and then actually falls for Derek in the end. I can’t seem to remember what it’s called and I really wanna reread it. Hope you can find it!
58.
Hi, I’m wondering if you could help me find a fic. One where Derek had to sacrifice his love for Stiles to keep his family alive (some sort of curse on him to make him fall out of love) and magic!Stiles does everything to break the curse? If you know it please help
59.
Hi! I’m looking for a Sterek fic on Ao3 where the day after Stiles and Derek finally go forward in their relationship this random ass guy shows up, claims he’s an old friend of Derek’s from New York and convinces the whole pack, minus Stiles, too. From what I remember he used their names to place a spell on them to control them. Derek attacks Stiles then kicks him out of the group, Lydia shows up and helps Stiles break the spell because she’s queen, and they get the guy arrested. Plz help?
60.
Hey guys no pressure but theres been a fic stuck in the back of my head for months and I can’t find it. What I remember is that the pack are in a bar when a siren does a siren thing and everyone in the bar is under his spell and it was something d&s could resist only because they were truely in love. Sorry if this doesn’t make sense, English is hard for a dyslexic
62.
Hey!! First of all...... thank u so much this is always so helpful..... Second of all, I can’t remember the name and hopefully you can help?? It’s Sterek, it’s not an AU. Derek leaves and moves to Montana? Colorado? Something like that and coincidentally Stiles ends up going there for college and slow build???? And knowing these boys, some Angst™️
63.
UGH!! Can you help? Stiles goes to stay with Derek in Brazil?
64.
HELP, goin crazy looking for fic I wanna reread, Remember tons specific odd details. Listing them w/ hopes someone knows what I'm taking about! ABO adjacent, Stiles heat is called a wetting, Stile's dad gives his hand away only cuz its good alpha Derek, marital/mate tradition w/ fancy ornate bathtubs, Stiles has skirt w/ embroidered list of his skills on it, Derek bad a verbalized emotions. Regency era. Stiles has a miscarriage w/ lot of self blame. Issac is Derek's ward since he's a kid. Aaah?!
70.
Hello I'm trying to find a fic where when Stiles was young (and with the help of Lydia or Scott) did a spell to never find his soulmate. Like it was: he will have blue eyes, no green and brown; he will be strong enough to lift a car; he will play cello. The point of the spell being to not find him. Later he meet Derek and freaks out because he is perfect (multicolored eyes, werewolf strength...). Please help me find it! Thanks
72.
I am looking for a fic that starts with Stiles and Derek researching but then Stiles gets turned on and him and Derek end up hooking up. It's a 5+1 fic
73.
Hi! Can you help me find the fic where Stiles, Sheriff and a few other people from town were held hostage by werewolves(?) but also some humans I think and they were planning to escape but stiles said they should stay put. And at the end or towards the end Derek bursts in as a full wolf and stiles has to talk him down so he’ll shift back and the people who held him hostage know him as one of the most dangerous in the Hale pack.
76.
Hi Mod(s)! I am currently looking for a fic about magic Stiles. I don't remember any of the pairings, but I vividly remember a conversation between Stiles, Allison, and Lydia. To prove that his magic is real, Stiles sets his lacrosse stick on fire. Allison is prejudiced toward magic and says that Stiles could probably light a house on fire, and Stiles responds that he could, but then he would die of organ failure. Thank you for your help! I appreciate the time and care you put into this blog!
77.
Hey, thanks for all you do. Do you perhaps know a fic that is basically a rewrite of season 1 but Stiles has a dog, and Derek gets jealous of the dog, honestly I've been searching everywhere for this
79.
I have a question
all I can remember is Alison is matriarch of the hunters, Stiles is sassy as fuck... I think he was magic. I believe there was a coffee shop showdown where Alison didn’t realize that Stiles was there... I can’t remember if it’s a recent fix or something I stumble across finding new docs to read.
Cheers
80.
Hello! I've been trying to comb my way through your blog and searching google but I haven't been able to find the fic I've been looking for so I hope you can help me (and I hope I'm not missing the post and making a duplicate)
The story is a sterek fic where Derek goes to stiles for help because hes developing a sexual problem and only trusts stiles to look up the answer. Stiles find out it's likely a mate thing and suggests derek figures out who hes been spending a lot of time with. Derek checks out and crosses off each of the pack before settling on Scott (because of his scent, thinking its what's triggering the response), turns out its stiles and that stiles has a very active libido and that's what's causing Derek's problem.
I swear I had it saved but I can't find it in any of my bookmarks. So, any help you can provide at finding the fic would be super helpful! Thank you!
81.
hi, hoping for some help finding a fic? from around 2015 - sterek (either established couple or they got together during +), there's a big bad that mind controls or possesses Derek and makes him stab stiles. then in the next part stiles trains with the argents and they're still trying to fight the big bad. there's an OC that stiles is jealous of bc she is able to bring Derek out of the mind control/possession when he wasn't able to. that's everything I remember. any help is appreciated! thanks!!
82.
There is this fic that I cannot remember the name of. It’s a very slow burn where stiles and Derek once they decide to be together, wait until 18 for kissing (before that they do Eskimo kisses) and then to like 21 or something for sex. It’s really sweet and cute and stiles is understanding of his trauma. It may have been a de-aged derek, cursed, bonded, or fake/pretend relationship? If you know, I will love you forever and ever +1.
83.
I'm looking for a long Teen Wolf fic. Here's what I remember.
Stiles left to join the FBI. Cut ties with Beacon Hill. Never looked back. Becomes an FBI wunderkind.
On behalf of the FBI he goes to some werewolf or Supernatural Council event with his unit. It's a complete surprise the Beacon Hill pack is there, they're all cold shouldering each other. Everyone has grown into their own, and the pack is beyond thriving. Derek is some high muckity muck.
Scrooby doo mystery plot stuff, ends in Sterek.
It's long and has some time stamp sequels.
Does this sound familiar? I've been looking for it to reread.
85.
I’ve been looking for this one sterek fic where stiles has a crush on Derek and Derek is like in high school while stiles is still a kid. And like stiles comes over to the Hale house to hang out with Derek and he catches Derek making out with a girl (maybe Kate) and it breaks his heart.
86.
Hi :) I’m looking for a fic where Stiles and Derek fake being in a relationship when Derek has to go to some werewolf retreat. Stiles learns magick and can see strings that run between…mates, maybe? I think there’s also a toddler named Luca running around. Idk I remember reading this YEARS ago and would really like to find it again🥺
87.
Hey. I was wandering if you knew of a fic that’s kinda oldish. But stiles and Derek meet and they’re like mates or soulmates or something. Anyway stiles pack which is like Scott, Allison, Lydia, Danny etc have been cursed by a witch and I thinks they’re getting their power drained or something? They’re lived are in danger and Derek helps coz Stiles is his mate. Possible chance they’re all at college
88.
hi! I am looking for a sterek fic. stiles works two jobs and is really tired driving home one day and accidentally rear ends derek (who is a cop?) who then comforts him when he freaks out. it is abo au and the pack are included. thanks in advance!
89.
Do you know a ao3 fanfic about sterek where stiles just presented as an omega and gets taken by the government to be the omega in dereks military group?
90.
Hey I was wondering if you could find this fic for me? I’ve been looking lol night and I can’t find it anywhere. I know it’s on AO3 if that helps at all.
So it’s a royalty au and pretty much Derek is a werewolf and he invades stiles kingdom under peters orders but when Derek gets to the palace stiles father isn’t there as stiles has hidden him and he ends up marrying stiles and stiles is like tricky and stuff and there’s one scene where they are in the garden and dereks soldiers end up in a field of wolvesbane and gets really sick and stiles goes in to save him and he gets really mad at his guards for letting the wolf just walk into it. And Peter is bad and intends on killing derek and stiles realises this and tells him and Derek ends up killing him. I think it would be classified as enemies to lovers? I hope that’s enough info to go off of
Thank you so much in advance I really appreciate it if you find it!
91.
Hi I have been looking for this fic for literally years, all I remember is that stiles and allison had a kid together years before when they were both on the outs from the pack in LA, but they come back and scott and allison end up together again, and derek left beacon hills for years but comes back and settles but keeps leaving and stiles is upset—eventual sterek of course—and there’s something big going on supernaturally? And stiles gets intense migraines? Honestly it’s been so long I could have imagined this haha but I will be so grateful if someone has heard of this! Thank you for all you do!
92.
Hi there! I read a fic a looong time ago and unfortunately, I can't find it. What I remember, is that Stiles and Derek move out of Beacon Hills and also get their own dog. I also think at first Stiles was on his own and he moved away for himself, not necessarily bc he was pushed out of the pack, but that may have been in a different fic and I'm just mixing them up. So sorry for being so vague! I hope you may be able to find it
93.
hi! i'm searching for a fix where the pack goes on vacation and derek and stiles have to share a room. basically stiles thinks that derek doesnt like his scent and leaves the windows open and they freeze their asses off lol. i think it was in a cabin or something in the woods.
94.
Hiya! Not sure if you’re still taking SOS Fic Searches. I cannot for the life of me remember anything more than a sterek fic with stubborn Derek / Stiles where Jackson asked Stiles out on a date on Valentines Day knowing Derek would be jealous, but when Derek doesn’t step in immediately, after the “date” Jackson texts Stiles “you’ll thank me for this” and then kisses him on the porch and Derek wolfs out and chases him — thus allowing for them to discuss their feelings and get together (but also keep it a secret from the pack for being assholes and making group chats without them)
95.
i’m looking for a fic that starts with stiles and derek getting into a fender bender. it’s in a universe where everyone registers as a dom, sub, or switch. stiles is a sub and derek is a dom. derek works with scott. after the accident stiles brings derek cookies and brownies at work. derek is some sort of officer or something that works with dom/sub rights or something?? there’s a protest which stiles goes to and it gets violent and at another point someone vandalizes where derek works. stiles and jackson are friends and jackson coaches lacrosse. i’m sorry if this is vague but i appreciate the help!
96.
I'm trying to find a fic and I'm hoping you can help- I've read it before but can't for the life of me find it on Ao3, and it's killing me! It's one where Stiles is magical, Scott pretty much goes insane- and there is a super amazing scene towards the end where Stiles winds up magically taking Scott's wolf away and giving it to Melissa, who lovingly embraces it. It was a great read that I could have sworn I bookmarked :(
97.
Hi! I’m not sure if you can help me find a lost fic. But I thought I’d give it a shot and ask. I read this Sterek fic within the last couple of months and i remember very little unfortunately. Basically I remember that stiles was allowed to sleep in dereks bed and Derek was acting like that was no big deal, but everyone else in the pack thought it was a massive deal because wolves and scent and stuff and I remember one of the women in the pack was pregnant but no idea who. This is so convoluted and I’m sorry. If you can’t find it no worries! Thanks!!
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Ao3 Fic Masterpost
alright, this is going to be a bit of a long post, but i have been meaning to make this for a while!
so my Ao3 is hearth_goddess, in case some of you didn’t know!
i know i post most of my updates for my fics on this blog, but i thought i’d just do a whole masterpost of all the fics i have on my Ao3, with a bit of a summary on the series and why they’re organized the way they are!
check out my fics if you haven’t already, and feel free to send me prompts and/or suggestions!
Non-Cats Stories: these are stories I’ve written that aren’t in the Cats category at all, but I still love them!
back then was when we touched the starlight: my first Starlight Express story! I loved writing this, and I’d love to write more StEx in the future!
Soldier, Poet, King: a Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus songfic I wrote concerning my favorite trio of demigods. After listening to the song over and over again, I realized how well it fit, and I had to write something, and this is what came of that!
Choices: My first fic published on Ao3, and a Carlos-centric Disney Descendants story that doubles as a tribute to the late, amazing Cameron Boyce.
after the strike: a 1992 Newsies fic that I rewrote after posting it years ago on ff.net! I’m a sucker for protective!Jack Kelly, so this fic is purely self-indulgent!
and they lived happily ever after: literally pure Belle and Adam fluff for the 30th Anniversary of my favorite Disney movie!!
Chronicles of Narnia: i'm planning on adding more fics to this section, because CoN is so important to me
oh, brother of mine: a peter-centric story that focuses around peter's thought process as he finds edmund on the battlefield after jadis is killed
Stranger Things: the growing list of fics I've written that focus around the Stranger things characters
show no fear, for he may fade away: a stranger things fic focusing on Dustin getting Vecna'd and Steve being the best big brother bc i think they deserve some hugs <3
to the boy i wish was my brother: What Max wrote in her letter to Steve, plus Steve getting to cuddle with his two favorite kids
if you only hold me tight, we'll be holding on forever: the most angsty platonic soulmates Stobin fic that takes place during s5
come back to me, please: more Stobin s5 scenarios, except this one is soft and full of emotional reunions between my beloved dinguses
The Madrigal Triplets and their Mirabel: some sweet, short fics about Julieta, Pepa, and Bruno and their daughter/niece, Mirabel
green glasses: a sweet, fluffy, slightly angsty fic focusing on Bruno and Mirabel Madrigal from “Encanto”! I love their relationship, and couldn’t resist writing something for them!
little cloud: a short fic that focuses on Pepa and Mirabel Madrigal, and their relationship prior to the events of the movie and during the movie.
quiet smiles: a short focusing on Julieta and Mirabel Madrigal, and Julieta's inner monologue about the changes that she sees in her daughters prior to, during, and after the events of the movie.
we see how brave you've been: Pepa, Julieta, and Bruno's perspectives during Antonio's Gift ceremony and Mirabel's ceremony at the end of the movie.
visions: A brief glimpse into Bruno's visions, and how Mirabel became his favorite sobrina, even before she was born.
Aboard the Havoc Marauder: a collection of shorts about the Bad Batch, Omega, and their adventures around the galaxy!
is there an echo?: my first Star Wars fic featuring my favorite group of boys, the Domino Squad from Clone Wars, and the Bad Batch! (but specifically feat. Echo, because I love him.)
bigger than any of us: the Echo and Rex hug we should have gotten at the end of episode 7 of The Bad Batch, complete with some emotional heart to heart between the boys!
no one cares who your father was, only the father you will be: just Omega and her five dads being the softest family in the galaxy. They get all the hugs they very much deserve in this fic!
guilty conscience: Echo’s reaction after Hunter orders the Batch to leave him behind, and the overwhelming guilt that follows.
shadows: Echo being the best ori’vod to Crosshair, and Crosshair finally getting the hugs he deserves from his two older siblings (hint, the other older sibling isn’t Hunter)
a vod's hug: Echo's hugs, and how there is definitely something a little magical going on
plan 88: how season 2 should have ended, aka my determination in my delusions about Fives being alive and him and Echo reuniting
Standalone: these stories are part of the Cats category, but don’t fit in with any of my series!
Hearth’s Writing Corner: a collection of all the shorts I’ve written here on Tumblr, mostly Cats. Categories vary and updates are random.
tomorrow they’ll see what we are: my Cats/Newsies AU!! I’m so proud of this fic, and getting to write a story for two of my favorite musicals has been so much fun.
the magi-coolest cat: my forbidden Tuggoffelees fic that was 100% supposed to be written as a joke but i took it a little too seriously and now it’s one of my favorite stories.
The Alley Cat: my Thomas O'Malley is a Jellicle fic that focuses around him, Skimbleshanks, and his reunion with his family in the Junkyard.
Jellicle Prompts and Jellicle Shorts: these are the fics I’ve written that take place within the “canon” Cats Universe, though aren’t canon within each other
A Cursed Dream: Munkustrap-centric
The Adventures of Plato, Alonzo, and Etcetera: just a couple little snippets about some underrated kitties!
A Jellicle Through and Through: George-centric
Mr. Vague and Aloof and his Terrible Bore: Tuggoffelees-centric
His Precious Flower: Munkustrap and Jemima-centric
Terms of Endearment: Tuggoffelees-centric
The Story of Seven Kittens: Mistoffelees-centric
Until the Jellicle Moon Appears: Munkustrap tells the kittens about how the Jellicles came to be
hush my darling, don’t fear my darling: Deut Bros-centric
hold on tight, we shall never let go: Alonzo-centric
thrill of the chase: Tuggoffelees-centric
We’re A Family, We Stick Together: a human AU feat. OCs created by myself and my mutuals!
***please pay attention to the tags/warnings in some of these fics
Serafina’s Story: OC-centric
Jubilee’s Story: OC-centric
Athena’s Story: OC-centric
making the choice: Tuggoffelees and OC-centric
settling in: Tuggoffelees and OC-centric
ornaments and family: Jellicles-centric
don’t take the girl: Deuteronomy Bros+their girls-centric
i keep your memory, you visit me in my sleep: Seruggoffelees-centric
the long way home: Macavity-centric
missed opportunities: Seruggoffelees-centric
twitterpated: CanonxOC pairings-centric
1998/2019 Switch: the full versions of the blurbs and brief plots i mapped out here on tumblr under the same tag!
The Magicians: Mistoffelees-centric
Hearth and Home: stories concerning my OC, Hestia the Hearth Cat, and everything within her “canon”! these fics often feature the OCs of some of my mutuals, and i always list whose OCs are whose!
heart of stone: Serafina's backstory and how she left Macavity
Hearth and Home: How Hestia came to live with Tugger and Mistoffelees
The Hearth Cat and the Library Cat: Hestia and Jubilee meet
The Jellicle Ball: Hestia’s first Ball (aka the Musical Ball)
Ghosts: Hestia meets a stranger who seem oddly familiar
Family Photo: Tuggoffelees + their kids take a picture together!
Halloween: Some unexpected visitors come to the Junkyard
the pocket watch: Tumblebrutus gives Hestia a very special gift
i thought i'd never see your sweet face again: a 5+1 Tumbletta story within the Henchcat!Tumble AU
Tuggoffelees Week 2020: all the prompts from Tuggoffeelees Week 2020, including a prompt that launched the inspiration for my Newsies AU!
curls and coffee: First Meeting, Human AU
kisses and coffee: Kisses, Human AU
buttons and maybe: Fight/Reconciliation, 2019-verse
sure as a star: Favorite AU, Newsies
dyin’ ain’t so bad: Kidnapping, 1998, warning for character death
terribly aloof, vaguely boring: Personality Switch, 1998
i think i wanna marry you: Wedding/Engagement
Macavity's Victims: these are “canon” compliant stories that focus on the Deuteronomy brothers and Demeter and Bombalurina’s relationship
The Tale of Two Sisters and Three Brothers: how Demeter and Bombalurina ended up with Macavity, and what happened when they returned to the Junkyard.
A Strange Sense of Peace: After the Ball, and another semi-analysis of the Deuteronomy Brothers
#liv's writing corner#cats the musical#newsies#cats/newsies au#starlight express#percy jackson#heroes of olympus#disney descendants#hestia the hearth cat#the rum tum tugger#mr mistoffelees#munkustrap#demeter#macavity#bombalurina#cats the musical ocs#tuggoffelees family human au#i will be updating this as i post new stories!#pinned post#star wars#the bad batch#star wars the clone wars#stranger things#chronicles of narnia
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dear TGS,
I was looking back through your writing masterpost and especially your outline (bc I LOVE & ADORE a good chart) and I was wondering how you figured out what the main points you wanted to hit upon each chapter would be? (the “abuse arc,” “John’s ‘case’” etc) and how dedicated were you to hitting them in each POV? I love the idea to remind one’s self to be aware of talking heads etc but was making sure the abuse arc (for example) is in every scene something you knew from the onset? Or more of an editing thing?
P.S. if you just marked them off bc you finished edits and didn’t need them in the chapter you are free to call me a dummy lolll
this is writing outline chart anon - wanted to be clear it wasn’t about the content itself!!! I thought the abuse arc was done spectacularly and I loved BR. the idea of writing down what things need to appear for SURE each chapter just fascinates me :) you don’t have to post this part I just wanted to be sure you knew :) :)
(posts anon is talking about are here & here & here & here, sorta)
noooo dw i got it exactly <3 this is such a good question too bc the answer is actually complex! (ALSO THANK YOU 🥺🥺🥺 i can’t believe the fic still gets so much attention and love after almost a year!!!)
for starters it’s all really really really variable, dependent on the general situation and how on top of my shit i am - i made this chart for broken road WELL after i had started writing and was getting into the editing. (broken road was a weird case re: timing because when i started writing it i was NOT planning on finishing it, i was just writing it to be writing something, and then i did decide to finish it after all. so a lot of the stuff i would normally have done early in the process i wound up skipping and then had to SIGH go back and do later.) but i also made a different chart for my merlin fic where i had a bunch of columns picked out before i started working, and then i wound up going back to add more in later. so as for the “when” part of your question - whenever! before writing or during writing or during editing! it’s all happened. however i do find that i strongly prefer to do it as soon as possible bc this minimizes my least favorite part of the process (editing) BUT if you wind up needing to make it when your fic is 75% complete and you need to stop and do FIVE. WEEKS. of restructuring, you know, it happens :| that was NOT fun but i got there!!!
deciding which main points go in the spreadsheet: two qualifications. first is, “will i forget to do this if i don’t write it down?” going back to the merlin spreadsheet (you don’t have to know anything about merlin to understand this), i realized partway through that side characters like uther, gwen, and morgana felt like they only existed when i needed them, like they just randomly appeared when the plot called for it and didn’t have any purpose otherwise. so i made columns for each one of them to remind me to have them or a mention of them in each scene so it reminded us that they were still out there doing their own shit. “talking heads” is a good example of something i will forget bc i am so bad about it. “background michael” was also something i was forgetting - he’d show up when convenient but it was easy to forget that he was there, listening, 24/7. of course, dean never forgets this even for a second, so i had to make sure that that came across in his pov. same issue with arthur’s out-of-control magic in the merlin fic. it’s an issue for them ALL the time, not just when i want to write about it. they quite literally cannot forget about it, so i can’t either, and neither should my audience!
second qualification is, “is this thing going to matter for the majority of the fic?” if yes, in it goes. so in broken road for example there was a mini-arc about jack realizing john is a bad person and part of the reason behind dean’s mistreatment of him in early s13. but since jack isn’t a major character in this fic, it only comes up twice, and i’d never be able to mention it in every scene. it doesn’t matter that much. same with john and mary’s relationship arc - it goes through a single turning point and then sort of stays stagnant in that no-man’s-land for the rest of the fic. their romantic relationship wasn’t the point, even though i enjoyed adding it in there, the point was their various failings and perhaps eventual successes at parenting and how that affected the family dynamic. on the other hand, john’s “case” matters very much - it’s something i needed to have him doing in each and every one of his scenes, because the guy is a bloodhound. the abuse arc, of course, is the entire point of the fic. and background michael wound up mattering here too - it increased with steady escalation until he was no longer in the background at all, because michael is sort of the living embodiment of stuff john was supposed to do and made dean carry for him instead, and also the entire reason john got brought back to life to begin with. essentially i only add it in if it’s FEASIBLE and/or REASONABLE to have it popping up in every scene/almost every scene/the majority of scenes, and if NOT, it doesn’t make the cut - otherwise you’d be left with a lot of empty checkboxes. very unsatisfying.
finally, how dedicated am i to having it in every scene? very very very VERY dedicated, but with a loophole: it counts as being in the scene even if there’s just the smallest, tiniest mention of it. going back to the merlin spreadsheet - there was no way i could include gwen, morgana, AND uther in every single scene. so it still counts if someone mentions them aloud, or thinks about them in the narrative. that still gives us the sense that they’re real people doing things even when our pov characters can’t see them, but without me feeling forced to shoehorn them in where they aren’t needed. similarly w/ “funny” for broken road - abuse, in general, isn’t funny at all. but i wanted there to be some relief from the heaviness of that subject in every scene, so even dark humor or slightly amusing wording or something might fulfill my obligations if the scene is otherwise too serious/important to ruin with a laugh. i find that varying the level of content devoted to whichever column in any given scene sort of helps keep the distribution of that content feel more organic. if you’re merlin and you’re obsessed with/in love with arthur, you’re not thinking about people like gwen and morgana and uther as often as you think about him. you’ll think about them more when they’re there and less when you’re busy or distracted. merlin was NOT thinking of uther as much during their very (b)romantic magic reveal moment as he was during the fight where uther tried to lop arthur’s head off. you know?
and finally, yes, sometimes i DO check them off when i’ve determined that there’s absolutely no way to work it in, but only as my very, very last resort. having good writing sense shouldn’t stop me from having a fully completed spreadsheet but it feels like cheating. so for example, in one of the chapters of the merlin fic there’s an onscreen suicide attempt - obviously there just weren’t going to be any jokes in that one, that’s very justified. and of course, john can’t work on his “case” in a scene he’s not included in - so for dean pov scenes without john, those got checked off by default. BUT even where he can’t be working on it when he’s not onscreen, i could still sometimes squeeze in another character mentioning his growing suspicion or voicing worry about him finding out, and that makes me feel better. but sometimes it just isn’t happening because it shouldn’t, so i try to accept that too 😞✊
ty very much for asking, i hope this response wasn’t TOO terribly longwinded. sorry you had to wait so long for a response too, december is kicking my ass like always 👎
[fic advice masterpost]
#liz answers asks#anonymous#liz loves writing#broken road#how arthur got his groove back#long post#sorry about that!!!!#writing spreadsheets#< i went ahead and made a tag for them lol#i'm sure i have lots of posts about them that are untagged but i backtagged as many as i could find#it's not a real liz fic until at least one spreadsheet gets made..........................
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AnironSidh 2020 fic and moodboard masterpost
I didn’t write very much this year between the general mess of 2020 and senior year, but here’s what I did manage to write this year (sorted by fandom). If there’s no chapter count for a fic, it’s a oneshot
Queen/BoRhap
Just Keep Losing My Beat || jimercury Hogwarts au. Freddie Mercury/Jim Hutton (jimercury), Brian May/Roger Taylor (maylor). Hogwarts au, found family, maylor, jimercury, i will post more soon. Chapters: 7/?
Summary: Hogwarts is not ready for Freddie Mercury. Not even close.In which Brian May is trying to be successful, Roger Taylor is just confused, John Deacon doesn't want the spotlight, and Freddie Mercury just wants to find somebody to love and make his place in the world.
(Love Of My Life) Don't Leave Me || hardzello (for borhap summer cast event) for the @queenandborhapevents and written for @johndeaconshands. Hardzello, fluff, happy ending, love confessions, first kiss
Summary: Joe's worried about what kind of future he and Ben may have once the movie is no longer keeping them in the same place, and he may find something more waiting for him to ask.
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Written for johndeaconshands on tumblr for the BoRhap Summer Event 2020
Love Was Such An Easy Game To Play || tyob 2020 gift fic for xofunghoul / @heybuddy-drabbles. This fic was for the @queenandborhapevents two years of borhap event. hardzello, flashbacks, fluff, picnic, proposal.
Summary: A look back at how Ben and Joe figured things out, got together, made a home with each other, and in which Joe has just one question in mind.
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A gift fic for xofunghoul and the two years of borhap exchange on tumblr (modded by @maz-zello and myself). Prompt was for hardzello, fluff, domestic moments. I think I did pretty well, let me know what y'all think in the comments!
Phandom/Dan and Phil
For The Dreams of Youth || phandom reverse bang 2020 parent!phan au for the @phandomreversebang 2020. art by @akikaji and beta @rainbowchristy. Dan/Phil, fluff, parent!phan Chapters 2/3
Summary: Dan isn't quite sure about a kid of his own. It hadn't felt like a possibility, not until recently. He may find that he's more ready than he expected.
Dan and Phil's journey towards parenthood told through a series of videos to one day hand over to their child.
I Wonder When We're Gonna Make It || phandom reverse bang 2020 (1980s au), for the phandomreversebang 2020. Dan/Phil, queen references, 1980s au, period typical homophobia, happy ending, angst with fluff. Chapters 1/2. art by @luisaloveshoney and betaed by @i-might-leave-soon / @eilidh
Summary: When a new neighbor moves into the town that Daniel Howell has lived in his entire life and finds his safe spot in the town's vineyard, he will challenge Dan's view of himself and his town. Soon enough, they find themselves in an attraction nothing like Dan's ever known and one that those around them cannot understand.
This may be Dan's only chance to escape and truly be himself.
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A fic for a phandom reverse bang 2020 prompt in which Dan and Phil live near a vineyard, sneak grapes, drink stolen wine, and fall in love despite the times (1980s). Also, in which I project my love for queen onto Dan, because Muse doesn't exist yet and because I can.
I Ain't Gonna Face No Defeat a good omens au for the @phandomreversebang 2019, masterpost and art by @hiwatari-art here. Dan/Phil, good omens au, post bookshop scene, Crowley!Dan x Aziraphale!Phil. betaed by phanandpenguins/ @ringsandbutterflies
Summary: Daniel Howell has been stationed on earth for six thousand years, his only constant companion Phil Lester, an angel of Heaven. When his angel is nearly taken away from him he begins to realize just how important Phil is to him.
-the bar scene in ep6 of good omens where Aziraphale is discorperated and Crowley is in the bar mourning him-
Please be sure to check the art by hiwatari! Thanks to phanandpenguins for their beta work!
Good Omens
Songs Full Of Sad Things || Ineffable Husbands Raphael!Crowley for the good omens big bang. Crowley was Raphael, eventual happy ending, angst and fluff, wip. Chapters 8/15
Summary: -Crowley and Aziraphale are quite happy in their new Tadfield cottage five years after Armageddon, or rather, the armageddon-that-wasn't. They've settled into a routine with each other and the Them. Everything seems fine. Anathema and Newton are even getting married soon.
-And then everything Crowley has built up for the last 6,000 years comes tumbling down with a visit from Gabriel and the revelation of his past, of how high he Fell. He hadn't wanted to remember his past as an archangel. Not now. His past is told bit by bit while those brought together by the almost-end of the world must pick up the pieces.
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aka Crowley was the archangel Raphael, Gabriel's a dick, and Aziraphale just wants to help. Also, Warlock WILL fight anyone who hurts his Nanny, even God.
As You Wish || Good Omens/Princess Bride au, inspired by @anotherwellkeptsecret. Princess bride au, another one I promise i will get back to, eventual happy ending. Chapters 2/?
Summary: Warlock is sick and Nanny Ashtoreth reads him a story of romance and swordfights, perhaps inspired by a certain angel she knows.
In which Aziraphale is Buttercup and in love with the handsome Crowley, a farm boy. When he is reported dead, killed by the Dread Pirate Nutter, Aziraphale falls into despair and eventually agrees to marry the devious Prince Gabriel. He is kidnapped by a con artist, Beelzebub, and their two henchmen in order to start a war. Crowley, who survived his rumored attack, rescues him from the trio. They must now free Aziraphale from Gabriel's clutches if they wish to have a new life with each other.
Inspired by anotherwellkeptsecret on tumblr (penumbra on ao3)
Before I Lose You || gomens holiday swap gift for @gregayy and the Good Omens Holiday Exchange. post-canon, fluff with a sprinkling of angst but there’s barely any tbh, ineffable husbands, (technically for the gomens 2019 holiday swap, but it was posted on the third of january so I’m including it)
Summary: Armageddon has been averted, and yet their troubles are far from over. Heaven and Hell want their revenge for a Plan foiled. Crowley knows this far too well, knows he has far too little time for what he's wanted for so many centuries... Aziraphale. Believing they may not live to see another sunset, they take a step usually taken by humans. They've only got this one chance, don't they?aka they get married, believing they may not have another chance to, as requested by gregayy/scmnz
Can't You See || good omens ficlet for @wheeloffortune-design. Ineffable husbands, ficlet, happy ending, first kiss
Summary: Crowley being brave - wheeloffortune-design on tumblr. Based on this art, I think I wrote this instead of studying for a midterm lmao
Hobbit/LOTR
By His Side || Happy Hobbit Holiday 2020 Bagginshield fic for KeyWolf25888 for the @haveahappyhobbitholiday 2020 exchange. Gen, M/M, Bilbo/Thorin, happy ending, fluff, bilbo stays in erebor fic
Summary: Bilbo Baggins is just staying in Erebor for now, just until he knows every member of the Company will be alright after the Battles, but his feelings for a certain dwarven king may change his plans just slightly.Or, a Bilbo Stays In Erebor fic as requested by KeyWolf25888 for the Have A Happy Hobbit Holiday 2020 exchange! I haven't done much Hobbit fic in a while, but it was nice to get back to these characters.
Reylo
you're nothing, but not to me || reylo fix-it. Rey/Ben Solo, poe/finn, tros fix it fic bc i was mad after watching that movie, I promise I’ll get back to it soon I just need to work out the plot (and it could also use a beta, if anyone’s interested) Chapters 3/?
Summary: The aftermath of the victory. They may have won, but what comes next? What happens when the battle is won, when the fight is over, but a former enemy is brought into their midst? What happens when Rey brings a near-death Ben Solo back with her? The remaining Resistance is not willing to forgive him easily for what he has done as Kylo Ren. It will not be easy, but it must be done.
Moodboards
Phandom/Dan and Phil
Phandom Reverse Bang 2020 Pride Au Moodboard, fics by @judearaya and @counting2fifteen Summary: Dan goes to pride for the first time, traveling to London on his own. He hasn't come out to his family yet, just a random person online called amazingphil. At pride, he sees a man (Phil) on a float and decides he has to talk to him. Eventually (maybe after a few times hanging out/dates) he finds out that Phil is amazingphil.
The moodboard for my prb 2020 pride au, with fics by counting2fifteen and judearaya!
Queen
Royal Maylor au honeymoon in Japan
Queen Iliad au with hardzello, maylor, and deacury
Brian’s Birthday moodboard
Maylor Hamilton au
Jimercury Sad moodboard (hurts like hell)
Reylo
Titanic au
Moodboard for You’re Nothing, but not to me
Reylo good omens au
Moodboard for the Heartbreak Prince, fic by the wonderful @kylorenvevo (Thea)
Reylo Frankenstein au, idea partially by @indefinitelyindia
#2020 masterpost#queen band#phandom#phan#reylo#good omens#good omens fanfiction#reylo fanfic#moodboard#mood board#my moodboards#my moodboard#My writing#royal au#maylor royal au#iliad au#queen iliad au#Jimercury#maylor#Ineffable Husbands#bagginshield#hobbit fic#hamilton au#queen hogwarts au#two years of borhap#borhap summer event#reylo titanic au#the heartbreak prince#pride au#phanfiction
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got a river for a soul, and baby, you’re a boat
or: Oh, fuck. We showed up wearing matching couples’ costumes to this party by accident and now everyone thinks we’re together.” + cashton
hello and happy halloween everyone!! giant thank u to ainslee @ashesonthefloor for putting this event together!! and for forcing me to actually get this fic done, looking it over, and generally being a major source of serotonin in my life. another huge thank u to bella @clumsyclifford for being one of my favorite people and loving frat boys enough that it made me want to write a fic about them to annoy her <3 love you both <3
here is the link to the event masterpost bc I highly recommend checking out all of the other amazing fics:
https://ashesonthefloor.tumblr.com/post/633534107120549888/hello-welcome-to-my-halloween-fic-event
warnings: mentions of alcohol
word count: 2,872
without further ado, please enjoy the fic I wrote mostly all last night while looping drag me down for thirteen hours straight :))
Calum doesn’t know what fuckhead came up with the idea of having a joint Halloween party for Sigma Nu and Sigma Pi this year, but he really wants to fight them. He thinks he’d probably have a lot of people on his side, considering how much Sig Nu and and Sig Pi hate each other, so he tucks the idea of interfraternity war away in his head as a contingency plan in case the party goes to shit, as joint parties with any other frat always seem to. And it’s not like it’s a one night thing, because all three days of the “Halloweekend,” as Michael refuses to stop calling it, are supposedly going to be spent with Sig Nu, one party at their own house, and two at the shithole that he assumes is the Sig Nu house, in some deranged attempt at bonding. He’ll be lucky to make it out alive, probably.
Before college, he really never did anything of his own for Halloween, mainly used to being used as a prop or side character for his sister Mali-Koa’s elaborate costumes, or, after she’d moved out, sticking a pair of fake fangs in his mouth to hand out candy to the few kids who rang the doorbell despite his efforts to keep all the lights in the house off. Last year, as a freshman, he’d gotten roped into a group costume with some of the other Sig Pi pledges, and while his memories are...hazy at best, he vaguely remembers falling asleep in a Teletubbies onesie at the end of the night.
This year, though, no one has tried to tell him what to dress up as, so it’s now a few hours before the first of the three parties, and Calum still has no ideas for what he should dress up as. A quick Google search for “cheap easy costumes” hadn’t really been all that helpful, so he decides to ignore the problem and take a nap until he actually has to leave.
A few hours later, Michael barges into the room to drag him out of bed, and looks around for a few seconds before asking, “You don’t have a costume, do you?”
Calum groans, pulling himself out of bed and wracking his brain for an idea that he can plausibly bullshit in the next few seconds, because he can’t let Michael be right and have something to tease him about, so he blurts, “I’m going to be a salt shaker.”
Michael gapes at him a bit for a few seconds before asking, “What the fuck? What kind of costume is that? What are you even going to wear for that?”
Calum mentally kicks himself in the shin, as hard as possible, because he really hasn’t thought this through. Why couldn’t he have just said cat or cowboy or something even slightly in the realm of normal Halloween costumes?
“Uhhh.. y’know that baseball tee I have? The one with the black sleeves and white middle?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s in my closet, but continue.”
“What the fuck, dude? Give it back!”
“You haven’t noticed that it’s missing for like three weeks, I just assumed it was mine now. Tell me what the rest of the costume is,” Michael demands.
“I’ll just tape a piece of paper with a big ‘S’ on it to the front of my shirt, and then put one of those pots with the holes on my head. Bam! Salt shaker!” Calum says, moderately impressed with his ability to pull stuff out of his ass this quickly.
“What makes you think we even have a colander?” Michael asks, crossing his arms.
Calum gives him a blank stare. “A what?”
“That’s what the pots with the holes are called, you idiot.”
“You think Harry would live anywhere that didn’t have a fully-stocked kitchen? There’s bound to be one in one of the cabinets or something.”
“Fine. I’ll go get the shirt while you look for the colander.” Before Calum can object, suggest that he look through Michael’s closet himself and steal back any of his other clothes that have somehow wound up there, Michael’s already halfway down the hallway.
Sighing, he trudges down the stairs towards the kitchen, where one of the seniors, Niall, is sitting with his head in his hands, dressed as a pirate.
“Hey, dude, nice costume,” Calum offers as a greeting. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find a colander, would you? I know Harry—”
“Do not talk to me about Harry right now,” Niall says, and Calum stops his search for a moment to send him a concerned look.
“What happ—”
“That needy-ass motherfucker thinks that just because I didn’t want to do a couples’ costume with him, it means I don’t love him anymore! Never mind the fact that he literally mentioned this idea to me yesterday, well past the point where everyone finalizes their costumes.”
Calum offers him a sympathetic look and offers, “Couples’ costumes are boring and cheesy anyways. Neither of you are missing out on anything, at least in my opinion.”
Niall lifts his head up from where he’d been repeatedly hitting it on the table to smirk at Calum and ask, “Have a lot of experience with couples’ costumes, do you?”
Luckily, Calum has finally found the colander, so he opts to ignore the question and just leave the kitchen entirely.
When he gets back upstairs, Michael’s in his room, unabashedly checking himself out in the mirror that’s on the back of the closet door. “Yeah, yeah, your anime character of the year looks great, now get out and let me get ready.”
Michael scoffs, “Get ready, as if you’re even doing anything,” but moves towards the door anyway.
Michael’s right, the costume is ridiculously easy to throw together, and two minutes later, they’re both out the door, walking across Fraternity Row to get to the Sig Nu house, where the music is already blaring and strobe lights throw red, then green, then blue shadows across everyone’s faces. On his way to the kitchen to grab a drink, he sees Niall and Harry walk into the house, holding hands and laughing together, so he assumes that their fight has blown over as quickly as all of their other fights always seem to.
He sees a few different trays of shots and decides he might as well take one to get the night started off right. After, he realizes that he probably shouldn’t grab a beer now, Mali’s rule about sticking to one color of booze for the night ringing in his head, so he settles for filling up a Solo cup with whatever glow in the dark gin concoction is in all the punch bowls. He wouldn’t put it past the Sig Nus to poison the drink on purpose, but it tastes relatively normal, so he grabs another cup for Michael and attempts to leave the kitchen, steering around the couple sloppily making out in the doorway.
It’s harder to spot Michael than it usually is, considering that at least half the people at the party are wearing some type of wig, but Calum eventually makes his way back over to him. He’s talking to Niall and Harry, and they both offer him a smile before continuing on with the conversation. Once that reaches a lull, Niall leans closer to Calum and says, “Mate, you didn’t need to lie to me about couples’ costumes.”
Calum has no idea what Niall is talking about, so he shakes his head and asks, “What are you talking about?”
Niall cackles, and Harry turns to look at him adoringly before going back to talking to Michael, and Calum is more confused than ever. Niall grabs his shoulder and spins him around and points in the direction of a clump of people. “You’re salt and he’s pepper, right? That’s such an obvious couples’ costume, although you two do seem to have a bit of a disconnect on how much effort you put in. That guy really went all out. And dude, why haven’t you told us that you have a boyfriend? You know we’d want to know about that, give him the Sig Pi seal of approval and all that. Wait. Unless he’s a Sig Nu, in which case, I don’t want to know because I’d probably have to kick you out. That’s a joke, by the way.”
Calum barely has the presence of mind to mumble, “He’s not my boyfriend,” before crossing the room to get to the guy in the hyper-realistic pepper grinder costume.
The guy smiles as Calum approaches, and despite the costume covering most of his body, Calum can tell that he’s cute. “Why so salty?” Pepper Guy greets, the sunshiney smile still on his face.
Calum smirks and replies, “Maybe I just need some more spice in my life.” Pepper Guy laughs, and just like everything else about him, it’s cute, and Calum wants to hear it again. “I’m Calum, by the way.”
“Ashton. Nice to meet you, man.”
Calum leans a little closer so that it’s easier to hold a conversation over the loud music and asks, “What’s the deal with the super realistic pepper grinder costume?”
Ashton makes a strange noise, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and says, “I got it off some random sketchy website, but it was supposed to be a chess piece. Something clearly went wrong somewhere in production, and my friend Luke said that I might as well sharpie a “P” onto it and just go with it.”
Calum makes a noise of agreement, mind stuck on a dumb idea. Before he can reconsider, he sends Michael a quick text that says if u’ve already taken over as dj, can u play that come grind w me song? and a few seconds later, he hears the opening notes and grins.
“Hey, Ashton?”
“Yeah?” Ashton replies, as realization slips across his face.
Right in time with the singer’s voice, Calum says, “Come grind with me,” and he laughingly pulls Ashton towards the makeshift dance floor. Neither of them can really dance, so it’s a mess of laughter and limbs flopping around, but Calum feels an unmistakable electricity between them too, and once the song is over, they stay for the next few, enraptured by each other. When they finally exhaust themselves with all the laughing and mock-twerking, Ashton asks Calum if he wants a refill, and when Calum nods, he grabs his hand and starts pulling him towards the kitchen.
Once they’re there, Calum goes for another serving of the glow in the dark punch, which is steadily dimming as the glow sticks run out of light. Since that’s really the only light source in the kitchen, Calum doesn’t see Ashton until he’s turning around and Ashton is right in front of him, reaching around him for a cup. Calum’s kind of trapped with his back against the counter, Ashton’s pepper grinder costume tall enough to really block out the view of the rest of the party, and the world narrows, all of it contained in where their eyes connect, and then, after Calum has safely set his drink back on the counter, that narrow point expands just a bit to where their mouths land on each other’s. The colander gets knocked off Calum’s head as he lifts himself up to sit on the counter, wrapping his legs around Ashton’s waist to pull him closer, as close as he can possibly get him.
Ashton’s sucking a mark into Calum’s neck when Calum has his first coherent thought of the past few minutes and pulls back, breathlessly asking “Wait, wait, you’re not a Sig Nu, are you?” fully expecting the answer to be no.
Ashton steps back a little too, and it takes him a second to register the question before he groans, “Of course you’re a fucking Sig Pi, that’s the only explanation that makes sense for me never seeing you anywhere before. You’re too hot for me to not notice otherwise.”
Calum flushes and mentally curses out whatever idiots had started the rivalry between Sig Nu and Sig Pi before he grabs his stupid colander off the ground and gives Ashton an awkward wave goodbye.
Once he’s out of the kitchen, he quickly glances around in search of Michael, and when he can’t immediately find him, he just gives up and leaves entirely. Fuck Sig Nu.
He spends most of the next day bitching about his hangover, and then, a few hours later, bitching about his hangover while helping to set up the house for that night’s party.
He doesn’t really have much more of a costume for tonight, throwing on a gray shirt and sharpie-ing some whiskers on his face. Michael takes pity on him and makes him a headband with an approximation of what they both think mouse ears are, and Calum is mildly entertained by going up to everyone and saying, “I’m a mouse, duh.”
His heart’s really not in the right place to party tonight, which is probably breaking the cardinal rule of being in a frat, so he sticks close to Michael, who has taken over the role of DJ, once again. Zayn from Alpha Sig strolls over after about half an hour, devil horns askew, and quietly says to Calum, “Cat and mouse, huh? Didn’t think you had it in you, Hood, that’s proper cute. Not as cute as me and Lou, mind you, but still, I respect the effort.”
Calum is reluctant to look up and see who he’s accidentally matching with today, because, with his luck, it’s probably another guy from Sig Nu. When he does eventually look up, he immediately makes eye contact with Ashton, who happens to be walking by, dressed in all black and with whiskers sharpie’d onto his face too. Calum wants to bang his head into a wall because the universe clearly hates him if it’s having him match with Ashton again. Even beyond that, Ashton looks so good out of the stupid pepper grinder and in all black that Calum wants to make out with him again.
Ashton is clearly having similar thoughts when he gestures Calum over and leads them towards a little pocket of quiet space in one of the lesser used hallways.
Calum really wants to hook his thumb into one of Ashton’s belt loops, so he does, as Ashton looks him up and down a few times. “Is the mouse costume your way of telling me you want me to chase you?”
Calum murmurs, “Shut up,” before leaning in to kiss him, frat rivalry be damned. It’s just as good as it was the night before, maybe even more so, now that the pepper costume isn’t in their way. At this point, there’s no denying the chemistry. It can’t be blamed on being drunk since Calum’s been nursing the same beer all night, and the part of his brain that’s protesting against being this close to a Sig Nu is getting smaller and smaller as he and Ashton continue to kiss.
They stay in that hallway for the rest of the night, eventually sliding down to sit on the ground, legs pressed together, sharing stupid stories about their respective frats. Calum’s surprised when the music shuts off because it feels like it’s only been an hour at most, that’s how easy it is to talk to Ashton. Ashton heaves himself up and reaches both hands down to help Calum up, too.
“I don’t think there’s any way you can match your costume to mine tomorrow, but I’ll come find you anyways,” Ashton says, as he leaves Calum with a kiss on the cheek.
Calum’s too wired to sleep much, so he opts to help clean up the house instead, and that takes up enough of his day that when nighttime rolls around, he’s stood staring at his closet without a costume idea for the third time in as many days. After ten minutes of consideration, he digs through one of his drawers to pull out the fake vampire fangs that he had somehow remembered to bring with him, and he goes down the hall to ask Jack to put some fake blood on his mouth and neck. Jack always goes all out for Halloween.
Once he’s at the party, he doesn’t have to wait long to find Ashton, who looks incredibly good in his werewolf costume. There’s fake blood on him too, which is really the only way their costumes could be understood to be matching, or so Calum thinks. Tonight, Jack and Alex are the ones to tease him, “You know what, I agree. Jacob and Edward should have ended up together, Bella was boring as shit.”
Calum’s really not bothered by the comments at all, so much so that he’s already thinking of couples’ costumes ideas for next year when he finds his way over to Ashton and whispers, “Let’s get out of here.”
“Are you trying to make a move on me? I’m a respectable Sigma Nu, I don’t know if I can allow that.”
Calum laughs and tugs him out the door, “Told you I wanted some more spice in my life.”
#5soshalloweenevent2020#5sos fic#halloween fic#michael clifford#luke hemmings#calum hood#ashton irwin#cashton fic#my fic#my writing#fluff#frat au#minor narry#minor zouis#minor jalex#me just putting all the side ships in that I can#5sos#5 seconds of summer#calum hood x ashton irwin#cashton
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So I've been deeply pulled into the Radiosnake pairing bc of your fantastic writing! Problem is, now I have fic ideas but no knowledge of the Hazbin background. Can you tellI me where I can get more Hazbin info? I've only watched the pilot and read your stuff. I heard there were comics??
That is an excellent question anon, because right now it is really hard to get Hazbin background easily.
Okay, so, the canon info on Hazbin Hotel can be sort of sorted into four tiers, from most to least canon.
Tier 1: The Definitely Canon
There is, of course, the pilot. And then there is an Angel Dust prequel comic, only seven pages of which have been released so far. We’ve been told it’s gonna be finished and we’ve had glimpses of in-progress prequel comics for a couple other characters—most prominently Alastor’s and Charlie’s—but so far that unfinished Angel Dust comic is the only one that’s been officially released.
Finding the in-progress comic pages is... a challenge. Nobody, as far as I can tell, has been specifically collecting all of the pages we’ve seen so far. I was able to scrounge up:
Couple more Angel pages
some Alastor pages
another Alastor page
a random Alastor panel
another random Alastor panel—I’ve seen the full page of this before, Alastor goes “Hello ladies!” and they go “HELLO ALASTOR~<3″ but I can’t find the full page now
There’s a smattering more canon panels on the artist faustisse’s twitter, but I haven’t dug them all out, and some of the posts I’m gonna link in a lil bit have a glimpse of another panel.
If you haven’t already heard of Helluva Boss, I recommend looking into it as well. It’s a second series being created by the same folks, different cast of characters but set in the same version of Hell, so any canon details we learn in Helluva also apply to Hazbin.
Helluva’s pilot is here. Plus a cute music video here.
Earlier this month, during a BLM charity stream hosted by show artist Ashley Nichols—she runs regular streams under the title “HuniCast”—they released a few sneak peaks of future Helluva scenes, all compiled here.
And that’s it for canon. Two pilots, a music video, a smattering of future scenes, part of one comic, a few WIP pages/panels from other comics.
Tier 2: Pseudo-Canon
Everything else we currently know about Hazbin (and Helluva) are things that the creators have told us. Consequently, they’re all pseudo-canon—and likely subject to change in the future as the shows and comics are further developed and released. Some details that were released/described in the past have been contradicted at other times, or else radically changed by the time the pilot came out.
(For example, when Alastor was first created years and years ago as an OC with no plans for Hazbin, he was a demon deer who could shapeshift into a human shape—now he’s a demonized human with a few deer traits. And Charlie and Cherri Bomb used to look very different.)
So until and unless they make it into canon, all these pseudo-canon details are subject to change and should be taken with a grain of salt—but, they also comprise most of what we know about the characters’ backstory and the as-yet-unaired characters.
Pseudo-canon info on Hazbin is scattered mainly between two sources: the creators’ twitter accounts, and livestreams where they take questions and talk about the making of the show. If you and livestreams do not get along (my ADHD and livestreams do not get along), or if you don’t want to wade years and years back into twitter accounts to dig up every scrap of info on the characters the creators have ever mentioned, collating all the pseudo-canon info is gonna be hard. (It’s gonna be hard even if you do want to sit through the streams and dig through all their tweets.) Lots of fans, me included, depend on the absolutely heroic work of various fans who are willing and able to watch hours-long streams and collate a list of canon factoids released during the streams. I’ve reblogged as many of these posts as I’ve been able to find:
Alastor’s sound design (on twitter)
Alastor's Sound Design (post I made with screenshots of weird—but very interesting—subtitles slipped into the aforementioned video)
Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb’s sound design
Niffty and Husk’s sound design
Charlie, Katie, and Tom’s sound design
Intro song’s sound design
Happy Hotel’s sound design
details from Faustisse (including a pic of a couple costume designs. Most of these posts come from zatyrlucy, who’s been doing a fantastic job of going stream-by-stream to get lists of details from the regular streams by Ashley Nichols and by comic artist Faustisse.)
more details from Faustisse (including a pic of the Von Eldritch family dining room)
Faustisse 3 (better look at that table)
Dollymoon’s Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART ONE (Shoutout again to dollymoon for compiling these, we’ve never spoken but I am eternally grateful for this service. Dollymoon’s posts are THE single most reliable compilation of Hazbin Hotel’s nebulous pseudo-canon facts that I have found to date, including both links to the sources and timestamps where applicable. Dollymoon’s URL has changed since making this post so the “read more” link doesn’t work but the “source” or “reblogged from” links direct correctly to the new blog. Incidentally, the risk of other blog creators deleting their blogs/posts or changing their URLs is why in info posts like these, I always link to my own reblogs rather than their original posts—their original posts might vanish without warning, but I know I ain’t gonna delete my posts, so these links will still work in the future.)
Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART TWO
Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART THREE
Faustisse 4
HuniCast - Australian Wildlife Relief charity stream
I think this was a faustisse stream (the original source deleted these posts, so the comic pages that were originally behind that read more cut are now gone.)
Faustisse stream 6?
And those are all the masterposts of factoids I’ve managed to collect. If anyone has more masterposts, chuck ‘em at me.
Even this isn’t all the knowledge that’s been released about the show. The posts that dig the farthest back are Dollymoon’s, and even they don’t comprehensively cover all of Hazbin’s production. A couple of these characters, Vivziepop created as a teenager, so there’s some truly ancient concept art floating around out there that will have details that probably aren’t canon anymore... but might still be until something happens to actively contradict them.
Tier 3: The Wiki
The wiki is kind of an absolute mess. It’s a chaotic blend of things actually seen in the pilots/comic, things mentioned at some point in some stream somewhere, and wild fan speculation based on what they headcanon as plausible based on the above, all mixed together with very little indication for which is canon, pseudo-canon, fanon, or speculation. Most of the statements on the wiki don’t have citations.
(And, on top of that, half the main characters’ info gets split up into separate tabs instead of just having a normal-ass wiki page, AND their image galleries are on COMPLETELY SEPARATE pages that are linked to in one of the tabs, and the most important characters all have TWO SEPARATE GALLERIES. Which doesn’t have anything to do with the quality of the facts hidden underneath those tabs, but nevertheless drives me up the wall.)
Some things on the wiki were added according to info released so long ago it’s probably changed by now. Some are possibilities that got reported as facts. Other things on the wiki have unambiguously changed, or else are just flat-out incorrect. (For instance, at this moment Alastor’s page still lists him as an overlord, even though it's been confirmed that Alastor is not an overlord despite his power level because he isn’t interested in and didn’t pursue that position, per this stream. For a little bit, somebody’s fanart of their headcanon human Alastor got added to the wiki as concept art.)
tl;dr: the wiki should never be trusted as a primary source. The wiki’s better than it used to be. Even so, at this time, it’s only trustworthy to fill in the gaps of what you already know is true from other, better sources.
The thing it’s good at is it more or less compiles all the known info all in one place. Trying to figure out who the hell this Vox guy is is really hard if you’re reading for mentions of him in compilations of a dozen different streams, much less if you’re trying to comb through those dozen streams yourself, plus a dozen more, plus three different artists’ twitters. In comparison, it’s really easy to, say, just go look at Vox’s wiki page, where all the trivia is compiled. (And Vox’s page is actually one of the better cited on the wiki. Look at all those numbers!)
So, if you need to find out who this character is you’ve never heard of before, if you want to see a full list of the thus far named characters, if you don’t remember whether Alastor likes coffee or tea, if you want to know what Angel’s twin sister looks like, if you need a reminder of Sir Pentious’s death year... check the wiki. It’s an okay starting point.
But, if you see a “fact” on the wiki that you yourself don’t remember from straight out of the pilot, and it doesn’t have a citation that links to a tweet or a stream... regard it suspiciously. And do not trust it unquestioningly as fact until and unless you have seen the source.
Tier 4: Noncanon Creator Shitposting
I’ve mentioned Ashley’s HuniCast streams a couple times. The biggest draw of them is that she usually gets several of the voice actors in the streams, where they’ll happily say nonsense in their character voices. For the most part, they’re not sharing any actual canon info they’ve been given on their characters, just goofing around pretending to be their characters. Nevertheless, a lot of the things that happen in streams get accepted as broad fandom headcanons, like Alastor being into dad jokes. (My favorite, for obvious reasons, is this one.)
It’s easy to find the source audio for all this wonderful nonsense by searching youtube for “HuniCast highlights,” and then rummaging around for animatics people make out of the audio. The only one noncanon video of this sort I can think of that didn’t originally come from HuniCast is a lone one from Alastor’s singing voice (who’s a different voice actor than his speaking voice).
So, obviously, none of these are canon. But they do come from some of the people actually involved in the creation of the show, and they are in the characters’ canon voices, so a whole lot of people treat them as semi-canon anyway. (Even the wiki lists “dad jokes” among Alastor’s likes, which to my knowledge hasn’t come up anywhere except for HuniCast streams.) Since they’re so broadly-known, they’re worth knowing about as important sources of fanon, even if you don’t want to adopt them into your own headcanons. They’re basically the same level of canon as blooper reels.
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bc i gained some new followers (hi!) and hit a milestone (yay!) and it’s been a while, i thought i would update my tag list masterpost. this is by no means comprehensive nor do i always remember to tag everything (typos also exist) but yeah! here it is, in imperfect glory with more under the cut because this, predictably, is long
show:
seasons: s1, s2, s3
episodes: 1x01, 1x02, 1x03, etc.
parallels
multi
graphics
gifs
my edits
icons
my icons
rayllum icons
headers
scenery
worldbuilding
dark magic
novelization (book one: moon)
through the moon (graphic novel)
callum’s spellbook
screencaps
twitter
netflix
cast and crew
interviews
[insert cast/crew name here]
edits are “character name + edit,” ie. ezranedit, raylaedit, etc.
ship edits (only for some) are “ship name + edit,” ie. janayaedit, etc.
tdpedit
fandom content:
fanart
animatics
amvs
analysis series (my meta)
analysis (meta in general)
mini meta (short meta)
fic
ficlet (drabbles)
my fic
fic recs
AU
modern AU
headcanons
thanks for asking
anonymous
shipping
post season three
after the war
fanbabies
my fanbabies
slightly older rayllum is my weakness
older rayllum is my lifeblood
wedding
fandom events
fandom nonsense
fandom
rayllum fandom
fandom crack
memes
moodboards
music
music: other (for my edits)
[insert musical artist’s name here, ie. sleeping at last, disney, etc.]
my playlists
playlists
tdp theory
speculation
caylangst (angsty rayllum content)
raylangst (angsty rayla content)
mage boy (related to callum’s mage arc)
ezran appreciation post
i can’t lose queue like this
text post
masterpost
characters:
* every character is just their name with the exception of these:
the queens of duren
the dragon queen
thunder
king harrow
queen sarai
king ahling
queen fahreeda
king florian
prince kasef
queen aanya
personal tags:
dragons rambles
upcoming (what i have planned for future fics, etc.)
updates
dragons gets salty
the english major strikes again
when will my timeskip return from war
forbidden op lore
mine
predictions
fic: in search of silver linings
fic: if time is money
fic: looking for a way to break in
fic: 21 days
fic: modern au
spiritydragons (relationship tag)
sometimes i think i’m funny
personal fave (for things that i make)
fave
F A V E
thanks for tagging me
stuff for me
ships
rayllum
harrai
janaya
runaan x ethari
lain x tiadrin
the queens of duren
callum x claudia
varrow
ezris (ezran x ellis)
corvus x gren
corpeli
relationships:
castle kids — soren, claudia, callum, and ezran (occasionally with rayla)
it was just red — viren and callum (foils)
asset — claudia, viren, and aaravos
morally ambiguous fam — viren, ex wife, soren, and claudia
knight sibs — soren and claudia
broyals — callum and ezran
moon fam — rayla, ethari, runaan, lain, and tiadrin (occasionally with callum or ezran)
ezran’s council — ezran + corvus, opeli, soren, and barius (individual or group support system)
the sunfire royal family — queen aditi, queen khessa, janai, unnamed brother, and unnamed parents
the royal family of katolis — harrow, sarai, amaya, callum, ezran (occasionally with soren, viren, claudia, or rayla)
the draconic royal family — avizandum, zubeia, and zym
the royal family of neolandia — king ahling, prince kasef, and unnamed younger sibling
raydia — relationship in general + foils, very rarely has onesided content from claudia’s pov
where can i put it down? — rayla, claudia, and callum’s relationship (featuring romantic rayllum, angsty claudium, and platonic / foil raydia, usually)
home is the first grave — claudia and ezran
ellis and ava — exactly what it says on the tin
sorayla — brotp + foils, very rarely has onesided ship content on soren’s side
brotp: we’re in this together — callum, rayla, and ezran (+ zym and bait)
our kids with their dragon son — callum, rayla, and zym
brotp: best crownguard — ezran and soren
brotp: froggy paddle — ezran and bait
brotp: the once and future kings — ezran and zym
ezran x aanya — brotp
sometimes a family is — amalgamation of found family relationships between any and all members of the main cast not strictly confined to one of the pre-existing tags, relationships, or brotps
other misc fandoms / AUs that get mentioned here:
atla
pjo
hp
httyd
consistent series:
every scene — every rayllum scene ever
every episode — rayllum in every episode
adorable ezran — ezran being adorable in every episode
s1 meme
s2 meme
s3 meme
rayllum parallels
trigger warnings (please feel free to send in anything you want tagged, no explanation needed)
tw blood
tw body horror
tw cursing
tw pregnancy
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