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azullumi · 2 days

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LAST NIGHT I DREAMT OF THE STARS AND YOU, PT. 1

premise — because that’s just how they are; alternatively, “the type to” trend with hsr characters. characters — ruan mei, veritas ratio, aventurine, and robin content tags — gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, slight angst, not proofread, word vomit in some parts, 1.6k words ; headcanons

note from me — seasickness took me out and the fact that i have a 9 hr road trip tomorrow is already making me dizzy. i hope i’m asleep for the 3/4 of it,, also this has a pt. 2 which i’ll upload later on !! anyways i wrote this in between my vacation and trip and in between the long-ass separate fics with sunday and aven so sorry if it seems rusty or out of my style 🙏

RUAN MEI, (lies in between the line of a good lover and a bad lover) the type to be unable to express her affections for you through words and settles with small and simple gestures that she has observed and seen from everyone around her; having never understood “love” and never knowing how to correspond with such, she’s left silent and confused like a lost child in the wake of it. She’ll find herself staring you quietly, memorizing the lines of your face and how it creases and contorts into different expressions, studying each crevices and edges of the parts that makes up your being to bury you in her memory, and there’s a smile that tugs on her lips every time her gaze falls on you. Oh, she wishes she understood what it all meant (she simply and devastatingly adores you).

RUAN MEI, the type to subconsciously write your name on paper whenever she’s distracted. it’s a small habit she does, one that makes her smile whenever she notices the letters spelling out your name. She has ruined, tainted several of her papers, even important ones, with just a single word, a set of letters that composes of what makes warmth seep into her chest when her mind drifts into the thought of someone—you.

RUAN MEI, the type not understand the underlying reason behind her actions—why she spends the time and makes the effort in between her busy schedule and pile of papers to make sweets for you, why she lets you do her hair despite how messy it often turns out when you braid it and how she can never find the strength in herself to “fix” or disturb the state of your work, why she always seek for the warmth of your hands whenever she’s feeling uneasy or stressed, why she always lean to your shoulder or to your touch when you caress her cheek, and everything. It’s a puzzle board of missing and scattered pieces, unable to comprehend the full image of the mystery—and yet, she still delves into the enigma of her feelings that is intertwined with your existence. Maybe one day she’ll come to know it all and maybe it will be the time when she can finally be honest to herself.

VERITAS RATIO, the type to want to know every single thing you and remember all of it. Perhaps it’s the bare minimum, perhaps it’s something that he just does. “They don’t like that,” He would say when an arrogant fool would even try to give you (or do) something, and he’s there, witnessing it all, knowing the things that you prefer and like. He knows what flowers that you like, knows your favorite color, knows the way you prefer to sleep, knows the small habits that you do when you’re nervous or scared or happy, knows every little detail that paints the whole of your existence. Isn’t it simply just lovely when someone desires to know you from the inside and out? Even if it’s just a little bit, he feels more closer to you in this way.

VERITAS RATIO, the type to be sweet and reassuring towards you (through words and actions), even though he may come off as mean, blunt, or rude towards others. Sure, he may call you an idiot sometimes but he’ll never go past that nor reach the line of degrading and distasteful remarks because he never wishes to hurt your feelings; if ever he did, he’ll apologize and tell you it’s not his intention. “Fool,” But the affection that edges into the tone of his voice cuts the thread of disdain that sews into the word. Oftentimes when texting and it’s easy to misunderstand the tone of one’s message, especially his tone, he’ll reassure you that he didn’t send it in a way that he’s angry or scornful: “The ‘Ok’ that I sent is not a mad ‘Ok’, I am in a rush and could only type that out. I’m not angry.”

VERITAS RATIO, the type to entertain your questions no matter how stupid it can be; he’d give you the answers every single time. He doesn’t mind being treated like a walking encyclopedia or dictionary if it’s you—he’d hate it if you were going to ask someone else instead of him (although he probably never told you that discomfort). I mean, you have a well-known member of the Intelligentsia Guild, someone who parallels a genius, just right at the tip of your fingertips, why bother asking someone else?

AVENTURINE, the type to like listening to the sound of your breathing, the sound of your heartbeat (to listen to the sound of you blinking, to listen to your hands soothe). It’s comforting, in an odd way, and he never tells you but it helps him fall asleep—watching the rising and falling of your chest, seeing your calm face wrinkle ever so often while you sleep. He keeps the sound of your heartbeat close to the pocket on his chest, weaving the rhythm of it to his pulse, and before he knew it, the dawn will come in quiet solitude.

AVENTURINE, the type to be always on fight-or-flight mode. Perhaps it’s the way that he grew up, perhaps it was the harsh and cruel environment that he’s in, but he’s always on guard, seemingly on defensive mode as if danger lurks at every dark corner. His shoulders are always tense, his hand either hidden or playing with the ring on his finger, it’s like he never can’t seem to relax himself even when he’s in the comfort of your arms. It follows him everywhere, trailing behind his feet, and forces him awake at night—he doesn’t even know where the fear, the anxiety, is coming from, he just knows it’s there. One wrong step and his thoughts will come crashing down like cold downpour, one wrong move and you’ll come to leave him. Sometimes a little reassurance comes a long way and it’s all he needs when his mind is being tormented. (He will learn to live with it, even if he can never seem to understand or know it. He will come to know peace as if it’s all he had in his hands when the sun first held him).

AVENTURINE, the type to immediately smile after a kiss. It’s utterly affectionate; parting, staring deeply into one’s eyes with his cheeks dusted with a certain color and he’s grinning—warmth beams from his expression and there’s a certain feeling that intertwines into his gaze and he knows it’s love because it’s all he feels whenever he looks at you. He’s the type to laugh into a kiss, feeling ticklish all over his bones as if your hands are ghosting the sensitive parts of his skin, and you’ll ask him, “What?” but he’ll only answer with, “Nothing.” He’s not drunk, the ache of wanting simply swells up in his chest and all he can think of is how much he adores you.

ROBIN, the type to try and make time for you. Her schedule is always packed, filled with all kinds of events and tasks that she needs to do. It’s overwhelming, everything feels overwhelming for her and it’s hard to know which one she should prioritize first not when she has a lot of things on her hands. Sometimes she feels lost, feels the weight too heavy on her shoulders, feels like her feet are tied to the ragged earth, feels the cage closing on her. She tries so hard to be the perfect lover for you, to become someone that will reach beyond your expectations; she cradles that perfect image, broken in all of its edges, that were constructed for herself close to her chest even if it feels like a knife to her heart. But really, all you need is for her to be herself (not the star that everyone admires and wishes to reach) and sometimes, that’s all she needs to hear from you—that she doesn’t have to hold on to the shattered chains when the coldness of the metal reminds her of what she has to carry.

ROBIN, the type to go on all kinds of dates with you, silly or not, and even matches clothes with you. She’s usually the one to make the invite to match, thinking that it’s cute and the both of you rarely ever has time like this so why not make the most out of it; who are you to even say no when she’s beaming at you so warmly? She has all of her options laid on the bed, displayed on clothing hangers, asking you what you’re going to wear or what color do you want. It’s lovely, sweet, seeing her like this and you could only pray to whoever aeon is listening that nobody comes to ruin the day the both of you rarely have for each other.

ROBIN, the type to bring you all kinds of souvenirs and gifts from her (universal) tours, sometimes having bought too much that you don’t know what to with some of them; the type to send you letters every time she’s away so that you won’t worry for he, especially knowing what happened last time, the type to always try to keep in touch and keep you close no matter the stars between you and her. She’ll ask for one thing that you own that she can carry with her person, making a promise that she’ll come back and return it—the item a testament to her vow—, but for the meantime, she’ll keep it so she has a little piece of you everywhere she goes and she can say that you’re always there by her side.

DRUM ROLLS PLS *dundundundundun* special mention to the one and only beloved feli @dr-felitas !! i think i owe you a lot of end notes so here i am :3 also i’m sorry if i publish this and i still haven’t responded to your messages (if you have sent me cause im on dnd to avoid my dumbass from checking and looking at the phone during car rides knowing that i get motion sick) ANYWAYS i would like to begin this with i love you mwamwa, you’re one of the sweetest and most wonderful souls i have ever met and anyone who tells u otherwise will get a boulder thrown to their head 🫵 im glad to have met you, that my anti-social ass went ahead and messaged you despite the fact that we only talked once or twice AND IT WAS OVER ASKS OR COMMENTS BUT YEAH !! idk what or where i’ll be if i hadn’t done that; maybe not replying to my friends idk (again im sorry if i take business days to answer i sometimes get busy or i sometimes dont have the energy :3 i hope u still love me hahahaha… *slides down the wall*) again, i really appreciate and adore you for everything. you are a brave and kind person and i only hope for the good things for you. don’t be too mean or harsh to yourself 🫂 know that i’m always here to listen to you no matter what you’re saying. you’re never a burden to me and i hope you’ll come to see just how you shine and radiate with so much warmth and kindness, it’s like love itself is found in you. ily lottss mwaa <33

sunday, himeko, welt, gallagher, and jing yuan next !!

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calliopesdiary · 2 days

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hola!! would you be able to write a one shot with your first date with remus? maybe you’re both a little shy and nervous and just trying so hard to impress one another and there’s a lot of blushing and cute moments :)

hii! ofc, lovely! (screaming cause i got my first request 🥳🥳)

—•—

Check Yes, Juliet

synopsis: when Marlene sets two polar opposites up to go on a date

contents: fem!reader, reader likes bows, badboy!remus, just cute adorable idiots in love (:, mentioned dorlene!, readers favorite color is red

warnings: none!

a/n: this fic is inspired by the song “Check Yes, Juliet” by We The Kings! thanks for requesting!

“MARLS… ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” you ask from your position in front of your mirror, carefully tying red ribbon into your hair.

“of course it is, y/n. he’ll love you! besides, opposites attract!” Marlene assured you, carefully applying red lipstick to her plush lips.

“i was a little… hesitant when Pandora insisted I go on a date with Dorcas, y’know, cause we were so different. but look at us— we’re about to hit our eight months!”

you nodded silently, checking yourself out in the mirror before finishing your eyeliner.

once Marlene had gotten picked up from your shared flat, you laced up your shoes and got your things together.

and that’s when you heard the knock.

the special knock.

the knock you had been waiting three days for.

your hand nervously gripped the doorknob and twisted it open.

“hi.”

you didn’t mean to say “hi” in unison, now what do you say? crap he was supposed to say hi first and then—

“you look gorgeous.”

you got broken out of your thoughts, your eyes hitting his with an awkward gaze.

“me?”

he chuckled, “who else would i be talking to?”

“o-oh, right, o-of course.” you blushed out of embarrassment.

you could cue some crickets here, you could tell he was nervous, you’ve never seen the resident bad boy so nervous.

“these are for you.”

he held out a bouquet of luscious roses, red, your favorite color.

“w-wow… Remus… these are beautiful…”

“just like you.” his cheeks lit up in a rosy shade, almost as if a painter had graced him with his paintbrush.

he’d definitely rehearsed that.

you let out a soft giggle, before stepping out the front door and walking with him to his car.

you guys ended up going to this adorable vintage diner near his house, you felt like you could talk to him for hours, except you were so nervous.

he even paid for the food, he paid! (even though the guy should totally pay on first days but that’s just me 🤷‍♀️)

“don’t worry, darlin’, i’ll pay”

“Remus i was gonna pay—“

“shh, keep sipping on your slushy” you blushed, you needed to get this blushing problem under control.

“so, do you have any hobbies?”

sweet of him to ask, but you felt as if you were a bit basic.

“oh, i play electric guitar so.. i guess that’s my hobby, what about you?”

you smiled, god he already loved your smile, it was so sweet, especially since your tongue was red from the cherry slushy you had been sipping on.

“you play guitar? sick!— i mean— cool.. i play bass.”

“bass? i’ve always wanted to play bass!— i mean— that’s super cool, maybe we can play together sometime?” you were quick to get flustered by your own words.

damn, you were being bold.

“i’d like that.”

he tossed some stones into the river underneath the bridge you guys had found, your legs dangling gently off the edge as you sipped on your slushy.

“do you read at all?” you asked, reading being one of your most favorite things.

“i do— actually.”

“really?

“i know it seems unlikely, but yeah, i do.”

“well.. what are your favorites?”

“it’s hard to choose, but i’ve always liked the classics— you know, like.. Romeo and Juliet.”

“Remus, you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you, the coolest guy in town, reads Romeo and Juliet.” he let out a chuckle.

“it’s true.” he shrugged, flashing his signature grin at you.

“do… you have a favorite?”

and just like that you both had spent quite a few hours just sitting on that bridge and talking, you never thought it could really get better than that.

“i know we already talked about hobbies, but have you got any more?”

“i mean— i skateboard, ”

“you skateboard?! damn, i’m really trying to make myself sound cool here but you aren’t helping.” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

“oh come on, it’s skateboarding, it’s not that cool…” Remus itched his neck sheepishly.

“i’m sure there has to be something cool about you.” he teased, his big hand ruffling your hair.

“i don’t know what that could possibly be.” you shrugged.

“well… you wear these beautiful bows everytime i see you walking down the street, and you told me that you like to stay up all night and play video games.” he remembered everything..

“that’s not cool, that’s being a loser.”

“you are about the farthest thing from a loser, y/n.”

you froze a bit, that was so… sweet.

“t-thanks.” you blushed, again. (no surprise)

“i’ll have to teach you how to skate, though.”

“i’d love that.”

the drive back to your apartment was nothing short of a dream, music blasting, turns out you both had similar music taste.

“billy joel has to be a gift from the heavens.” you remarked loudly, your hair blowing in the breeze, the top down on his convertible.

“i can play uptown girl on guitar!” he responded, a wide smile on his face.

“really?”

“yeah!” the excitement in his voice made you blush almost the same color as your slushy.

“that’s so cool!”

he smiled wider, looking over to you, your pretty face lit up with street lights.

“i write poetry.” you confessed, you’ve definitely come out of your shell.

“you need to show me, sometime.” he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex.

“i… had a great time with you today.” you were so smiley.

“i had a great time with you, too.”

as the gentleman Remus John Lupin was, he walked you to your door.

“i guess this is goodbye.” he sighed lightly, not really wanting his night to end with you.

“thanks for.. everything—“

before you could even finish speaking, his lips were on yours.

your brain imploded, your eyes fluttering shut into the soft kiss Remus had just blessed you with.

your lips tasted of cherry and lip gloss, but he really didn’t mind. his nimble hands crept to your waist as your hands fell to his shoulders. just before he pulled away.

“i’ll see you around, Juliet.”

you smiled at the given nickname, blushing at the suddenness of that kiss still.

“bye, Romeo.”

he chuckled, before quickly walking down the hallway.

Marlene was right, opposites attract.

#marauders era #fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #poly!marauders x reader #fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #check yes juliet #romeo and juliet

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toppersjeep · 11 hours

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But I Love Him- Lando Norris

Masterlist

Summary: You work at McLaren with Lando. You are his race strategist. You used to be in a relationship before he ended it because of all the hate you were receiving. One day you see him bring another girl to the races. And it upsets you. So you decide to take matters into your own hands and talk to this girl.

Your POV

Lando had arrived late at the paddock with some blonde girl. Of course she was beautiful. But I knew she had a reputation. But why would he care as long as he had someone by his side. I knew he was just needy. He was that way when we were together.

She walked into the garage and sat away from everyone. Lando walked over to me. Putting a hand on my back. Standing beside me. There it was butterflies like it used to be.

“What’s the plan for today Y/N” Lando said looking at my laptop. “Uhhhh well same as usual you know” I said his hand went lower. But why?? We aren’t together anymore. “That’s good” he said overlooking it. “Yeah just changed a couple things you’ll be on softs first” I said.

“Alright” Lando said with his arm around me. “You need anything else” I said. “Uhhhh no but I’m glad to have my lucky charm here today” Lando said. “Me really or Oscar” I said he laughed. “You of course” Lando said I smiled. “You look nice” I said fixing his color.

“It’s just my racing suit” Lando said. “Papaya brings out your eyes” I said. “Ah” Lando said blushing. “Beautiful blue eyes” I said. “Well I should get ready thank you Y/N” Lando said. “I got you” I said.

I walked around the garage when the girl he brought scoffed at me. I stopped in my tracks.

“Problem Maugi” I said. “Oh she knows my name” she said rolling her eyes. “Yeah I know who you are” I said. “Don’t you have a job to do” she said. “You know.. you are no good for him” I said. “Don’t care what you think he dumped you” she said laughing.

“And?? At least I’ve never cheated on my partners” I said. “You don’t deserve someone as amazing as Lando” I said. “You truly have no idea how special he is” I said. “I don’t care that he dumped me he did because he was protecting me” I said.

“So what” she said crossing her arms. “You don’t even deserve to be in the same room as him” I said. “You know what I think you are jealous” she said. “Why would I be jealous of someone like you? Sure you are pretty girl but you’ll always be mean” I said she stayed silent.

“You will never ever know him the way I do or love him the way I do” I said. “He dated you for what ten months get over it” Maugi said. “Just stop” Lando said walking over. “Lando” I said. “Not you her” Lando said as she looked at him. “But she started it” Maugi said. “No she didn’t as a matter of fact you need to leave” Lando said.

“Whatever you be with your stupid little race strategist” she said brushing my shoulder as she walked out. “I’m sorry she was pissing me off” I said. “I heard you” Lando said laughing. “What” I said. “You are so feisty sometimes you know” Lando said. “Shut up and go get ready” I said he kissed my cheek.

“And uhh I love you too” Lando said. I just blushed as he walked away.

Later…

Lando had won his first race. I ran over to the cars with everyone and stood up front. With tears pouring out of my eyes. He got out of the car. The whole McLaren crew cheered.

He walked over and spotted me. He then ran over and kissed me. As the McLaren crew cheered.

“My lucky charm” he said I smiled teary eyed. He then picked me up and spun mr around. “P1 so proud of you” I said. “You helped a lot so thank you baby” Lando said. “Oh so I’m baby now” I said sarcastically. “If you want to be my girl just ask” Lando said.

“Hmmmm tempting Lan” I said. “How about you just say yes and we see what happens” Lando said. “Alright I’ll be your girl” I said. “Good cause tonight I’m taking you out” Lando said. “Oh really shouldn’t I treat you” I said.

“When it comes to you just let me treat you” Lando said. “Fine my love” I said. “But tonight I’m expecting so many kisses” Lando said. “Of course my race winner” I said kissing him. “Now let’s go celebrate baby” Lando said.

____

(A/N- Sorry for randomly disappearing but I’m back now, needed a break from writing and stuff. But I’m back and I’m gonna take new requests. I’m gonna do a couple that have been asked. But send in new ones!!)

#fanfic #love #f1 imagine #x reader #f1 x reader #mercedes amg f1 #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #f1blr #f1 x you #f1 fic #formual one #red bull f1 #f1 fanfic #classic f1 #mclaren f1

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hxltic · 15 hours

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Choso remembers you saying something about it. In fact, you had asked him incredulously, “Cho, you have never touched yourself?”

And you said it so confused and almost sad, like you were genuinely upset for him. “That’s why you’re so pent up all the time,” you added. “It’s not something you should feel bad about.”

The memory crowded his brain when he returned to his apartment one night, slightly angry and plagued by what he doesn’t yet recognize as overstimulation, just thinking maybe his ponytails are too tight and adding to his headache. His muscles were sore as well, which didn’t help.

So he leisurely showers and lays in bed, trying his best to fall asleep and end his emotional torture, but it’s to no avail. He lays there on his back with his eyes closed. Contemplating. He has a hard time going to bed with the whole curse thing anyway.

Thinking back, you implied that the action was some type of release of frustration or stress. Choso understands that his head is constantly wracking about familial stuff, staying alive, his rent; it never truly stops. But what if it could?

The thought is crude, like it should be forbidden to indulge in himself that way. But you said there was nothing to be ashamed of, and above all else, he trusts you the most.

You. It all started with you. You were always helping him out, being his best friend and patiently teaching him things that nobody else could bring themselves to say. You were there for him and he owes you the world.

In fact, sometimes he would ask questions or pretend to be uninformed just so you could explain random, usually unimportant, stuff. He couldn’t understand why, but your puffy lips as you speak and your pretty eyes glistening— on the verge of full laughter at his confusion— makes the air thick around him. He’s only half human, but it’s like he carries the desire equivalent to a full one. He has barely been able to control himself.

In the darkness of his room, under the covers, Choso doesn’t even notice his hand trailing down his abdomen and over the cloth of his loose pants. It was so natural how he began to lazily dig the heart of his palm through the fabric, gently at first.

You had shown him the different pleasures of the world around him, most of which you liked to do. Mall shopping, for example. He thought it only made sense to carry your bags while you hopped from store to store, and in return, he got some say on what you left the store with. You couldn’t care less about the male opinion on how short your skirt was, but Choso was different. You knew it would be unfeigned.

“How’s this one?”

You step out of the dressing room in a pair of high heels that laced up to your calf and twirl in the skin-tight dress. The color fell on your complexion perfectly, it cinched your waist in just right, and covered just enough of what it needed to. The fabric hugged your thighs and the intended sheerness of the dress left just a faint shadow of the red set you were wearing underneath. But there was no point in waiting for his answer; it was all over his face.

He was speechless. He sat with his mouth slightly agape, holding his gaze to you up and down. You clear your throat, finally drawing his eyes up to yours, and he somewhat comes to his senses.

“Y-you look great.” He mutters.

Of course it’s in your nature to tease him, rolling your eyes jokingly: “Just great? God, Cho, I see how much you hate me now.” But you didn’t expect the immediate response after.

“No, no— more than that. There’s not a word for it.”

Now you were speechless, staring at him with the astonishment he had on his face previously.

Choso’s large hand wasn’t as gentle now, driving deep into himself in search for friction. His breathing slightly picked up from the movements since the room was becoming hotter around him, stifling even, so he throws the covers off his wanting body. With a deep sigh and furrowed brows, he tries to relax back into his pillow, welcoming the small hums and the newfound rush of cool air against his open chest.

Every now and then he’d also think about the time you took him swimming. He already knew how as a survival instinct, but that wasn’t the point. You were showing him around. Popsicles, hot summer days, and glowy laughs.

After the both of you sat on your beach chairs while munching on your matching snowcones, you agreed to get in the water if he did. That’s how found yourselves at the steps of the pool, Choso trying his damndest to be respectful when you remove your cover up, but he somehow can’t peel his eyes away no matter how hard he tries. You’re too busy thinking if you should revoke your statement while glancing at your reflection. Unfortunately for you though, you hadn’t thought that he would have no reaction at all to the water temperature and step right in without hesitation.

“You are insane,” you declare, your eyes hopefully showing the fear through your shades. Choso chuckles and stands at his full height in the three feet, and instead of trying to figure out if you were staring at his dripping figure, he glides towards you in the water.

He reaches out for you, still stuck with only your feet in the pool.

“Here, give me your hand.”

Reluctantly, you do. He walks backwards into the water.

In an escape from the cold, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close, linking your ankles behind his hips. He tries his best to keep his breathing steady as you stay hooked to him. “I’m going to sink in, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah okay,” you breathe.

Everywhere you connected was hot despite the coolness of the water nipping at you, and yet it didn’t make the journey down any easier. His hands hooked under your thighs as comfortably as possible, but the main burn in your heart stemmed from the words. It was truly an endeavor not to think about them out of context because surely he didn’t even notice the accidental innuendo.

Choso held his breath during the slow, controlled descent while you clung onto him. It isn’t until you get to the bottom that the real fight emerges.

“Oh, It’s not that bad!”

And even though he’s squatting, leaving both of you completely surrounded in the pool, when you pull away with a fat smile on your face and the shades pushed up, Choso could barely even think.

His hand finally pushes past the waistband. It wasn’t hard to find his length that was already standing up as far as it was allowed in his pants.

His eyes tighten when he feels the pressure of own his grip, and how relieving it was. Slowly, his hand moves up against the taut skin, only to be hit with a substance he feels blindly at the tip. He kicks his pants off with an easy motion in order to see himself.

He was flushed but too aroused to be embarrassed. Already gathering sweat and heart beating fast, he recognizes he has two options. Stop, or keep going without full knowledge of how to do it. Usually he’d ask you, but he’s smart, and some things he has to figure out on his own. Plus, he’s sure it all comes to the same outcome.

He swipes the substance from the top, and without a second thought, spreads it around so it eases the journey his hand slowly takes up and down his shaft.

When you looked at him that day, you glistened with a happiness he’d never seen before in his arms. Holding onto him even when you no longer needed to. He might as well have been looking at the fucking sun because he would do anything to see you like that again: staring at him like he was the only person in the world, your breasts close to spilling from your bikini top, hair tossing in your face from the wind, and only inches away from where he now recognized he wanted your lips most. His.

He could spot every freckle and dimple in your skin.

But that wasn’t even the best part. Your fingertips rested on his jaw and your palms on his neck, slowly caressing him while you dipped further on top of him underwater. You told him there shouldn’t be anything under his swim shorts. Of course he listened, but now he’s trying to determine if it’s a blessing or a curse. Intentional or not, every time you moved, the touch of your bare skin and the hold he had on where your thighs meet your ass was electrifying and downright addictive. He can still feel it to this day.

Choso’s heart rate was skyrocketing. He lacked some understanding, but he wasn’t stupid. He may not necessarily know what love should feel like, or reciprocated feelings, but he knows what he’s feeling now isn’t to be ignored. If it was, it wouldn’t be so goddamn suffocating.

His free hand brushes the hair over his forehead back at the epiphany. His other one is controlled, sliding up and down his cock continuously. There was so much precum leaking at his sensitivity, making his eyes flutter and his words unstable. At first it was just groans and soft moans falling from his lips. But now, he needs the words for what he’s about to do next.

Somehow he finds his hand hovering atop his bedside table, ripping his phone off the charger and dialing your number.

A few rings later, he hears your faint air conditioning in the background. “Cho?”

Instead of a response, a heavy, elongated sigh sounds on the line. Your voice was so refreshing to hear that it actually startled him. He thought he was ready to talk about whatever his feelings were, or ask about them, but maybe he got intentions of the choice to call you slightly wrong. His thumb slips just under his pink head, flinching his hips and ejecting whimper from his mouth.

He stares into the darkness, not even attempting to hide. “H-hello,” he mumbles.

“Are you okay? It’s pretty late.”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Choso swallows, putting the phone beside his ear. He looks down at what he’s doing. Calves straining, cock throbbing, and muscles tensing. Had he always been this reactive? You both rest in silence, his as an occupied one, but a silence nonetheless before he interrupts it.

“I wanted to—” His grip became a little too hard and a low groan slips into the mic. He was trying to communicate without notifying you of what he’s doing, but you had brought it up so he doubts you would mind if it came to that. “—hear your voice.”

“Well, I’m here now. Hey, are you sure you’re completely fine?”

“I-I… fuck,” Choso curses, which is a rarity in all honesty, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

He hears you shuffle. He assumes you sat up, intrigued. “Oh yeah?”

It’s like you were put on this earth just for him—to guide him, to trouble him, but it’s all a side of the same coin. And he loves every second of it. Your voice was so fulfilling even with its mocking tone, and maybe it’s just the arousal coursing through him, but he recognizes it as what it is. Flirting. With this fact, the world slows, leaving the intensity of the moment and the growing feeling in his lower half. His speech is impaired by his own breathing.

“Yeah,” he replies. Breathless and hot.

Once again, there’s another moment of silence. A squelch sound bounces off his length as he increases speed, still shimmering with wetness in the dark, and he’s thinking maybe you fell asleep. His balls tighten every now and then and he thanks the universe for the signal because when he touches them, his eyes almost roll to the back of his head before closing.

The sound he releases is mostly air. It was frantic and choppy and loud, as well as completely received on your end.

“Where are your hands?”

He processes your voice, blinking his eyes open slowly. “Huh?”

“Where are your hands, Choso.”

He tips his chin down, glancing at the stickiness between his fingers and his dick standing tall, itching for more. It’s weird, he thinks, but he admires his work and how he doesn’t feel dirty or the least bit uncomfortable with it. He watches the clearish-white seep from the peak when his fingers clamp around his base and squeeze; he hums satisfactorily.

“Busy.”

Incredulously, you parrot, “Busy?” A smile inches onto your face and he only knows because he can hear it in your voice. “Are they stroking anything, by any chance?”

On that note, he begins undulating again, tipping his head back to the pillow. It was burning desire, for multiple things. He didn’t know what, but you’re for sure one of them.

He grins softly but cockily, “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? Because I’m so ‘pent up’ all the time?” He turns his head to the phone as if it were you lying beside him.

You both laugh in a daze, the feeling surreal. It then goes quiet.

“I’m feeling a little pent up right now, actually,” you coo.

Choso copies, “Oh yeah?” And he understands what you mean, because his cock tightens and warms. His speed enhances once more, sloshing somewhere in the back of the call and making the “h” sounds of his words lengthy.

“Yeah,” you moan on the other line. It was light; lighter than his. But his are the very reason why.

On top of the pleasant surprise of him taking your advice, he called you to experience it, and his voice is deep with fatigue but serene with arousal. It didn’t take a genius to guess what you were doing in response. “How does it feel Choso?”

“Keep talking and I’ll see.”

That instant he twitches, his hips now thrusting up into his fist for some type of release. It was growing with every word you spoke. He bites his lip and keeps his eyes closed to relish in the moment because it is ten times more exhilarating in someone else’s presence. Yours.

“Are you close?” You question. Your breath was more contained than his, but he could hear the movement of the covers.

Another grunt, “Yes.” In fact, he was so close, there isn’t anything else that he’d want. It practically overtook him.

He could barely hear you, or understand you, rather. And if he did, it took him repeating your words over again.

“You were thinking about me, weren’t you?”

It was snappy but his voice gave it away. “I called, didn’t I?”

“I bet you’re imagining it’s my hand, right? Or when you come it’s my face you’re spilling on?”

He curses under his breath, jolting his hips up and gripping his cock harder. Rougher. No, he actually wasn’t imagining that, but now that you brought it to life there’s no going back.

What you said after was unfortunately heard loud and clear.

“Slow down for me.”

And it should have been embarrassing how instantly he took his hand away, because if he didn’t, cum would be painted on his chest by now. He groans strongly and hisses as if in pain at your denial, breaths thick and weighty. “H-Holy shit.”

Choso never got angry at really anything, but here he was, brows low in irritation. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him raise his voice over the calming way he spoke either, but that doesn’t matter now. Had he gone slow he still would have came.

He speaks as confidently as you laying on his back, dry hand flipped on his forehead while his breathing regulates. “Why won’t you let me come?”

You had your own reasons, one of which being you took it as the perfect opportunity to pleasure yourself. “Because I said so.”

Choso opens his eyes to his cock as possibly erect as it could get, bobbing with every time he moved. It was an angry red instead of its usual pink now. “I’m so close,” he placates himself a bit, “…just…let me.”

You don’t respond, just release small whimpers of your own— but he knows you’re still listening. He sighs deeply, “…Please.”

It was so breathless it might as well have been a moan in its own: “What’d you say?”

“What?”

“I didn’t hear you.” You heard him.

“…Please let me come.”

He was shaking, his hand already wandering closer to his dick in pure anticipation you would say yes. Thank God you did after a few quiet seconds that were anything but tranquil— he actually thought that he was about to pop.

It’s swift when he cups his hands and runs from the base to the tip, squeezes there, and uses a few of the fingers to drag over the wet skin of his balls. The sounds he made previously come back tenfold.

His hips jerk and his abdomen follows. His back lifts from the bed, causing him to rise onto an elbow as he strokes himself through his climax. His engorged cock throbs in his hand and he shudders. He shuts his eyes just as milky white cum flies out in spurts around his waist and stomach.

Meanwhile, your own peak was near, and when Choso huffs through his, yours hits like a train. His vision was black and spotty, but he could hear you cry his name somewhere in the distance. This only made it worse. You carry him even farther into his orgasm since he thinks about what they’ll sound like in person. His name rolls off your tongue so beautifully already; when you’re under him it’ll put him on his deathbed.

He blinks his eyes open to the mess that he can’t bring himself to care about in the moment. He flops backward onto his bed sheets while trying to keep his lungs in order.

It seems to be that for you as well because a few much needed-minutes pass.

“Cho?”

He hums back leisurely.

You ask, soft and sweet. “Can I come over?”

“See you in ten,” he sits up.

©️hxltic

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starlostseungmin · 22 hours

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husband!changbin

✰ notes: finally a changbin fic after 2 years omg and i apologize for posting this late as i was busy studying !! special mention to @l3visbby for giving me ideas <33 not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

ꔛ

Husband Changbin who proposed on a random Thursday evening when you were on a car ride home. He suddenly parked the car by the sidewalk and asked the million-dollar question that would determine your relationship in the future.

Husband Changbin who would always ask you to hold his hand while driving.

Husband Changbin who is tough on the outside but sweet and soft inside. He’s the cutest human being in your life.

Husband Changbin who would send pictures of him while he’s at the gym making you giggle and blush every time. Sometimes he would ask you to work out with him as a form of bond, “You need to exercise to be healthy!”

Husband Changbin whose muscles you want to bite (he would say yes) that you would often ask him to headlock you but he’d refuse because he might choke you later.

Husband Changbin who loves taking an interest in your hobbies and asks you to teach him. (e.g. if you happened to like crocheting then he would gladly pick up his favorite colors of yarn and crochet Dwaekki). At first, he would mess it up and complain playfully but he gets it later on.

Husband Changbin who spoils you A LOT and lets you use his card.

Husband Changbin who’s loud and gets even louder when he’s with his friends.

Husband Changbin who has the most precious and contagious laugh.

Husband Changbin notices everything subtly and gives you the things you want without you asking for it.

Husband Changbin who loves showing you off, enjoys writing songs about you, and telling everyone how great you are, how much he loves you, and how he is so proud of having you in his life.

Husband Changbin whose love languages are words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and gift-giving.

Husband Changbin who loves taking photos of you. He would often ask you to pose on a pretty scenery/background so he could choose something to be his home screen later on.

Husband Changbin who takes you on a trip once a month and goes to your favorite places when you need to get off from work.

Husband Changbin who is protective and makes sure you don’t get hurt. He takes care of you diligently, tells you to eat on time, and nags you (lovingly yet strictly) like a mother when something he doesn’t like happens.

Husband Changbin who would put you first before everything and let the world burn just to save you.

Husband Changbin who panics when he sees you crying and sad. He would automatically capture you in his arms as he whispers how much he loves you and that he’s always there when you need him.

Husband Changbin who’s calm when you’re having an argument and tries his best to make up with you. He’s the type to never let anyone sleep in this household unless everything is fine. He may lose his temper sometimes but apologizes a few minutes later.

Husband Changbin who refuses to leave your shared apartment without you giving him a sweet kiss and showers you with kisses when he gets home.

Husband Changbin who loves cuddles on random nights after having a very long day until you two fall asleep on the couch or your shared bed.

Husband Changbin who loves to joke around but when he noticed that you weren’t laughing he’d turn away out of embarrassment and sulk at the corner making you baby him.

Husband Changbin who acts cute and makes questionable noises to get what he wants which you would immediately give in to.

Husband Changbin who would bring up the topic of having kids in the most subtle way but just like the other members, he doesn’t pressure you and lets you decide whenever you’re ready to have one or two with him.

Husband Changbin who never misses a call or text from you and updates you a lot whenever he can despite his busy schedule.

Husband Changbin whom you promised to love to the moon and back no matter what challenges come in your way. You never said your vows for nothing and will love him to eternity.

Husband Changbin who loves you more than anyone and promised to stay with you until death do you part.

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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withleeknow · 1 day

Note

Hello! I really love your stories. Could I be the 🥐 anon? A little reference to my country 😆. Anyway, I wanted to ask for a story for the milestone event, with Han jisung and the prompt : "so...can we go eat".

Thank you so much and have an amazing day!

of sleepy promises and indigo skies.

note: welcome to the household 🥐 <3 i hope you enjoy your stay here and this drabble as well. hehehee. this is a short one but i enjoyed writing it ♡

main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi

jisung is in the middle of counting your eyelashes when his stomach growls, sounding like a nightmare monster against the backdrop of peaceful silence in your shared bedroom.

he winces internally because it's loud enough that you stir awake, making your eyes blink confusedly at your surroundings. it was still light out when you fell asleep earlier, but now the sun is almost gone, leaving behind an indigo sky in its wake that you can see from your window.

your voice is groggy when you ask, "what time is it?"

"seven fifteen? seven thirty?" he tells you uncertainly, before reaching for his phone on the bedside table to confirm his answer. "yeah, seven thirty."

"why didn't you wake me?"

in all honesty, jisung did want to wake you. you had plans to go to dinner together - try out the new fried chicken place that opened two weeks ago, that's what you'd promised him. what was supposed to be a half an hour nap turned into two hours because he didn't have the heart to disturb you, despite the way his stomach was protesting for some food to satiate its hunger.

ultimately, he settled on watching you sleep, smiling to himself every time your lips parted as you lightly snored.

"you looked too cute while you were sleeping." jisung brushes his fingers over your hair while you clasp a hand over your mouth to cover a yawn, before stretching your limbs to wring out the day's fatigue.

"corny," you comment, though you do try to shuffle closer to him, a smile tugging at your lips when he takes you into his arms and presses a kiss to your forehead.

"you love it when i'm corny."

"unfortunately, i do."

"unfortunately?" he repeats, an edge of playful disbelief coloring his voice. "what is that supposed to mean?"

"it means you can be such a cheeseball sometimes, but you're my cheeseball and i kinda love you. i guess."

jisung gasps, like he's so offended by your words. the sound is quickly followed by a lighthearted laugh, the vibration of which you can feel where your chests are pressed together. he's endeared by you, incredibly so. maybe it's the way you said it with a sleepy look in your eyes that almost make them seem dreamy. maybe it's the way you relax completely in his arms like he's the safest place you know. or maybe, it's just the simple fact that you called him yours and that you (kinda) love him.

his warm lips find their way to theirs, meeting you in a soft kiss that has you both smiling like idiots afterward.

though, of course, the nightmare monster in his stomach just has to make another appearance and ruin the moment.

he locks onto your teasing gaze with a sheepish look of his own.

"so... can we go eat?"

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #han x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung scenarios #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung x you #stray kids #han jisung #blurbs

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queen-of-the-avengers · 3 days

Text

An Endless Cycle

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: relationship angst, bucky beating and shooting someone, heartbreak

Summary: Reality comes crashing into you like a freight train and you can't stop it. You're stuck in a cycle that you have no idea how to get out of. You love Bucky, but can you bend your morals to be with him? Is he worth the heartbreak? Are you?

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: last times/farewells (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Italy had some bumps and bruises but you didn’t let that spoil your good time. Now that you’re back in the States, you’re reminded of your responsibilities like school. Bucky has been more lenient in letting you go to school without Sam or Steve with you since this is your safe space. He doesn’t want to do anything to strip you of this and he’s not going to start now.

“I’ll be back here at three to pick you up.”

“Okay.” You move to get out but Bucky stops you before you can. “What?”

“Get over there.”

Bucky pulls your upper body across the center console and kisses you. Butterflies explode in your stomach at the feel of his lips on yours. This is what you want every day to be like. Just you and Bucky in each other’s arms without the threat of danger to either of you.

“If you keep kissing me, I’m going to be late,” you mutter against his lips.

“Okay. I’m done.”

You pull away but lean in for one more kiss. You get out of the car with a grin before hurrying over to your first class of the day. Your fashion design class is the one you’re looking forward to the most, and Gio smiles when he sees you.

“Hey, you’re back.”

“Yeah. Gio, I am so sorry for bailing on the party. I did want to go.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah. I went to Italy believe it or not.”

“With Bucky?”

You miss the sour tone in his voice.

“Yes. He can be an ass sometimes. Sorry for how he behaved last time.”

You don’t miss the sour look on Gio’s face.

“My dad knew Bucky.”

“Yeah? Through what?”

“Work.”

You’re not sure why but you don’t like the way he says that word. Work. Bucky kills people for work. That means dangerous people after a dangerous man. Instead of diving deeper into that like you know you should, you turn to the front of the class and pay attention to the professor.

“The partners you had for the last project will be your partners for this project. The first step in designing anything is the artwork of the clothes you want to sell. Both of you will come up with six designs. Make sure to include measurements, fabric style, design style, and who your audience is for the type of clothes. You’ll have the entire lab period to work on your designs. You may begin now.”

Gio is a better artist than you so he works on sketching the designs while you come up with everything else. The dress you two made was kind of your idea so you’ll let him have the say on each of the designs for this project. He doesn’t say much except for the occasional, “What color should this part be?” You’re not going to bother him on a topic you know is probably sensitive, so you don’t stick around at the end of class to talk to him.

You walk to the meeting point where Bucky is supposed to pick you up ten minutes before he says he is going to be here. He’s usually early but maybe there is traffic or he got caught up in something. You take a seat on a bench and open a game on your phone to pass the time. Ten minutes turn into twenty turn into forty and then into an hour. Bucky is never this late, and he didn’t bother to call you. You tried calling him three times but he didn’t answer you.

Looks like you’ll have to walk to the nearest bus station, not that you mind much. It’s weird Bucky didn’t reach out to you. While on your walk, you notice dark clouds rolling in. Can you get to the bus station before it starts to rain? No, but the hope was there. It’s not pouring down like you thought it would but it’s not a light drizzle either. You’re soaked to the bone by the time you reach the town where the bust station is. It’s already there letting passengers on but there is a car you recognize across the street from the station.

Bucky’s sleek black Maserati is parked in front of an older-looking apartment building that has clearly seen better days. You abandon your plan of using the bus and head across the street to his car. Why would he and his men be here? It’s fine if he’s busy and couldn’t pick you up, but to not even call you? That’s when it becomes a problem.

The building doesn’t have a working elevator so you have to climb three stories to get to the top. Most doors that lead into the apartments are locked until you get to the top floor. One of the doors is propped open and sounds of pain are coming from the inside. A man grunts in pain when someone punches him in the face. You can hear the sickening crack of his jaw. Your heart pounds in your chest at what you might see but you know you have to do this.

You peek through the small opening of the door and see a man tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Bucky’s men surround him with guns but they don’t use them. Bucky stands in front of him with his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Bucky pulls his fist back and slams it into the man’s face, causing blood and a tooth to spill from his mouth.

“Spune-mi cine este șeful tău!” Tell me who your fucking boss is! “Unde este lista?” Where is the list?

What list? What is going on? You can’t focus on anything but the way Bucky is being so brutal. You’re brought back to the night you left the first time, and your heart breaks all over again. How can he be so gentle with you but so brutal to everyone else?

“I don’t know,” the man pants. “Please, don’t do this. I have a family.”

Bucky doesn’t hear him. He beats him twice more before taking out a gun and shooting the man in the face. You gasp so loudly that Bucky and his men turn to face you. The look in Bucky’s eyes softens once they see the tears in yours. You can’t keep doing this. You’re stuck in an endless cycle that you can’t seem to escape from.

“Y/N…”

You turn and quickly run back down the stairs. Bucky shouts from above but you’re focused on getting the hell out of here. You’re not a track star or anything but once you start running, you can’t seem to stop. Bucky’s place isn’t far from town since he likes everything to be close to where he lives. You could take the bus but then he might make it home before you do. You could call an Uber but he’d definitely beat you back home. Instead, you run. Your legs feel like they are going to fall off, your lungs burn, and your heart pumps fast but you don’t stop running until you’re back at Bucky’s mansion.

You throw open your bedroom door and stumble inside while panting. You grab a backpack and start throwing shit into it. You should have never gotten caught in the first place. This time, you’ll make sure to disappear for good no matter how much it breaks you to do it. Bucky barges through the front door seconds later and races up the stairs two at a time.

Fuck it. You’ll get all new shit somewhere else. You zip up your backpack and run into the hallway where you run into Bucky’s chest. You shove him away and step around him but he grabs at your elbow to stop you.

“Y/N, wait!”

“I can’t do this anymore,” you cry and yank your elbow away from him. “I can’t be with you knowing you’re out there hurting people like that.”

“This is what I do, Y/N. I am the boss of my mafia. Killing people is how I send a message.”

You flinch not only from his words but his tone. He sighs after realizing the effect his words have on you.

“That man had a family. That man was someone’s father, husband, and son. You just took him from them without blinking.”

“That man had a list of my people his mafia plans to kill one by one. He had intel on everyone on my team. I had to kill him first.”

You sniffle and wipe the tears from your eyes.

“What if it had been you who were tied up? What fi it was your life on the line? What then?”

Bucky walks closer to you with a look made of steel. His voice is cold as ice.

“I am no one’s father, I’m no one’s son, and I’m definitely no one’s husband. You make sure of that,” he glares.

You look up at him as two tears roll down your cheeks.

“And if it had been me who was taken?”

“Don’t.” Bucky immediately cuts you off with such coldness like you’ve never seen before. You scoff and turn to leave but he’s not done with this conversation. “Doll, I am in this life whether you like it or not. I can’t leave it.”

“But I can.” You turn back to him. “I love picking flowers and going to animal shelters just to play with the dogs and cats. If I pass by a baby and a mother in the park, I have to stop just to make the baby laugh. I even stopped traffic once just to help a mother duck and her babies cross the road so they wouldn’t get hit. How do you expect me to react to you brutally killing someone?”

“You were never supposed to see that.”

“Maybe if you answered your damn phone, you might have told me to go straight home! You left me waiting an hour for you at school!”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs.

“Yeah, well, I am, too. I’m going home. My home.”

You turn to leave and see a flash of lightning in the distance followed by thunder. Rain pours down outside, hitting fat drops on the window.

“So, what does this mean for us?”

His words stop you. You can’t look at him or else you’ll break down in tears and never stop crying.

“Are you going to stop hurting people?” He can’t answer because he can’t lie to you. “I have no choice but to leave.”

“Y/N--”

You turn to face Bucky with tears rolling down your face. It kills him to see you in such pain but what can he do? He can’t ever leave this life. He’s in too deep.

“It hurts so much to love you. It hurts knowing you’re doing that when I’m home wishing you were with me instead. It hurts so fucking much, and I can’t do it anymore. I refuse to make myself less than to be by your side.

“Please don’t go.”

Bucky steps closer to you. Lightning strikes again lighting up the dark hallway. You can see pain across Bucky’s face but you need to do this for you.

“Do you love me?”

“You know I do.”

“Would you do anything for me?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me go,” you sob.

“Everything I do is for you!” Bucky yells which makes you flinch but you stand your ground. “Everything I’ve accomplished is for you!”

“Being with you hurts,” you cry. “I can’t give you what you need. You’re not enough anymore. I want more than what you can offer me. I can’t be in love with a murderer.”

Bucky can see how much pain he’s putting you through. How can he claim to love you if he’s hurting you at the same time? Bucky stands up straighter and every bit of emotion is wiped from his face.

“Steve will take you home. I’ll have him bring the rest of your things later.”

With that, he turns and leaves you alone in the dark hallway. You must not be enough for him either because he just walked away like it was the easiest fucking decision ever.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fan fiction #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fiction

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mamawasatesttube · 3 days

Note

for the ficlet thing: “You're still asleep, aren't you?" (w timkon,,,yeah) :3

Muted blue-white light from the TV washes over the living room, paints the walls in dull grey as it flickers across Kon's face. Tim's head is a warm weight on his shoulder, his hair tickling slightly against Kon's neck. He dozed off a few minutes ago, breathing soft and slow as rain pelts the side of the farmhouse; it's not even late yet, but Kon knows Tim's been through a lot lately. It's good he's resting.

But he'd rest even better if they just turn off the TV and head up to bed, so. Kon could just carry him, but...

Lightning flashes outside; thunder rumbles in the distance as the house creaks in the wind. Kon stares at the window and swallows, hard.

Tim wouldn't just doze off on anyone's shoulder. Even as Robin, he preferred to curl up in weird little secluded spots, though he definitely fell asleep on Kon or Cassie a good few times. But he's gotten more guarded during the year Kon was, uh, dead, pulling into himself, pushing even Cassie away. And yet, here he is, snoozing away against Kon.

Something tightens in Kon's chest. He's been thinking a lot, lately. There's words that've been dancing on the tip of his tongue for months now, words he's kept swallowing down. Maybe he ought to finally take the plunge. Tonight feels cozy and safe, like the storm's cut them off from the outside world and all its perils and fears, and Tim is so trusting, so vulnerable in his sleep.

Kon takes a breath. Swallows hard. Breathes out.

"Hey, Rob." He gently nudges Tim, squeezes his shoulder. Fantasizes, for a moment, about skimming his hand down to the side of Tim's waist, but holds back. "You wanna call it and head up to bed?"

"Mmnh?" Tim's voice is so much softer than usual when he's sleepy. His eyelashes brush Kon's collarbone as he blinks. "Nnh, 'm awake..."

Kon's heart flip-flops in his chest. He chews at his lip. Lightning flashes in the window again, lighting up acres of farmland in a brilliant flash. Tim's hair smells like Kon's shampoo.

The words bubble up in Kon's chest and rise up his throat, and suddenly he knows if he doesn't say them now, he'll never say them at all. His heart thunders in his throat.

"Rob, I've, uh... I've been wondering something."

Tim hums against his shoulder. His fingers twitch slightly against the side of Kon's knee. "Mm?"

You don't touch most people like this, Kon wants to say. I don't let most people touch me like this. I've always been so conscious of how people see me, here in Smallville. I never knew who "Conner Kent" was before. But I never worry about any of that when you're with me. Why? What do you do to me? Do you even know you're doing it?

He doesn't say any of that. Instead, he chews at his lower lip again, staring at the TV. It's a rerun of some oldies show; Ma likes to watch 'em in the evenings sometimes.

"Before Cassie 'n' I broke up, we... talked about some stuff," Kon says haltingly. Maybe he should've taken a page outta Tim's book, written this all out before he tried to say any of it. "About, y'know. Us. What all happened while I was... gone." He can't bring himself to say dead, not to Tim.

Tim's quiet. He isn't stupid; he probably knows where Kon is going with this. He knows Kon knows there's an ocean of unspoken things between them, these days, things they both know but haven't managed to put into words. Things like why Tim tried to clone him a hundred times. Like the new colors on the Robin uniform in all the photos Kon saw from before Tim took on his new mantle. Things like...

"You and her dated for a second," Kon says, quiet. Maybe he's finally trying to cross that ocean. "She told me that she was trying to use you to see me. But that... that makes me wonder, Rob. If Cass was trying to kiss me through you, then..."

His heart is in his throat; his blood roars in his ears.

"Then what were you thinking, when you were kissing her?"

The question hangs in the air. Tim's silence is louder than the thunderstorm raging outside.

Kon stares straight ahead, suddenly terrified. Maybe he's wrong. Maybe he got it all backwards, and Tim really did just have feelings for Cassie he never acted on until Kon was out of the way, and his guilt for it was behind his intense grief for Kon. Maybe he—

Tim snores softly.

The tension pops like a bubble. Kon looks down, incredulous. "Right. Of course. You're still asleep, aren't you?" he mutters, more to himself than to Tim. He doesn't know if he's disappointed or relieved. Honestly, it's on him; he should've known better than to try and actually talk about any of it while Tim's so sleepy. He just... it just felt...

Well, it doesn't matter now. Kon blows out a deep sigh, TTKs over the TV remote, and turns it off.

"Mmph?" In the sudden quiet, Tim shifts against his side. "I'm awake, I swear..." He yawns, covering his mouth with a hand, and then lifts his head to blink blearily up at Kon. "Sorry. What were you sayin'?"

Kon shakes his head with a rueful smile. "Nothing important," he says, and ruffles Tim's hair. "C'mon. Let's get you to bed."

#rimi writes #emmothman #timkon #tim #kon #in keeping with that issue of robin '93 where tim sleeps through ari trying to confess that she kindasorta cheated on him #he once again sleeps through someone he loves trying to talk to him earnestly about feelings #rip tim. you'll be awake for the konfession one day!

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doomhands-jr · 3 days

Text

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 1

Noah Sebastian X Reader Summary: Noah is a delinquent and you are the pastor's daughter.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Masterlist

__________

“Why would someone do something like that?” you asked, staring down at the picture on your phone. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” you dad’s voice crackled through the speaker. “I can only guess that he’s clearly lost and hurting.” You stared once again at the photo displayed across your screen. A black, horned figure stared back at you with the letters HAIL SATA scrawled in red underneath. At least they didn’t finish the last word. Could someone go to Hell for saying that? You weren’t sure. It made you uncomfortable though.

You didn’t like to think about anyone going to Hell. Suffering for eternity with no way out? A lifetime of being burned alive? Your throat started to close up and you knew you had to stop thinking about it too much or you would have an anxiety attack. That happened sometimes when you thought about Hell too much. It’s why you always tried to make sure you were on the right side of the Bible.

“Do they know who did it?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Caught him trying to scale a fence. The paint on his forefinger matched the colors on the wall. He spent the night in custody. They’re asking if I want to press charges.”

“Do you?” you asked.

“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I’d like to negotiate his sentence. Some community service would do him some good, don’t you think?” “I suppose,” you mentioned, not sure where your dad was going with this. “I need you to monitor it.”

“Monitor what?” you said, not quite putting two and two together.

“The community service. Are you listening?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, shaking your head rid of the thoughts that had crept in. You’d started thinking about Hell again. “Why me?” you asked. “Because I trust you,” he said. You groaned internally. “I need you to witness to this boy. He’s a lost soul and needs to be brought to the Lord. It’s only for a few weeks. Saturday mornings from eight to noon. I know you can do that.”

You sighed. Your father always did this. You were tired of the guilt trips, but they still worked every time. Besides, what’s more important to you? Sleeping in on Saturdays or someone’s eternal fate? You were being selfish. “Fine, but I want a leadership role at the youth center this year.”

“Done. I’ll call you later with more details. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You slumped forward. There goes the rest of your Saturday mornings. They were the only day out of the week you actually got to sleep in, since you had Church every Sunday morning.

At least you’d be working closely with Isaac during the week. You melted a little even thinking about him.

He was the praise and worship leader for the campus youth group, and the most attractive man you’d ever seen. You’d kissed last summer during a game of truth or dare among the rest of the staff at the summer camp, but haven’t made progress on that front since.

You sighed and fell back into bed, acknowledging that this was likely your only opportunity to sleep in for a while, allowing your thoughts to stay on Isaac and go as far as you could before it turned to lust (a sin).

_________

The chilly mid-October wind sent shivers coursing through you. Three weeks had passed since your dad had informed you that you’d be conducting community service. It was 7:56 AM and you were standing, clipboard in hand, next to the marred wall of the youth center, waiting for the delinquents to show up.

Delinquents, plural. Apparently, they caught the guy’s accomplice with the help of security footage.

“Excuse me, am I in the right place?”

You looked up from the clipboard to see a young man with a friendly smile.

“Name?” you asked.

“Nick,” he answered. You looked down at your clipboard and wrote the time next to his name.

Nick had striking features. He wore a backwards ball cap, a black hoodie, black jeans, and a denim jacket overtop. A nose ring decorated one side of his face. He took his hat off and ran his fingers through a mop of messy brown hair in a way that let you know that he knew it was attractive, before placing the cap back on. He had a friendly, disarming smile that you didn’t expect from a delinquent. It was charming in a sickly-sweet sort of way.

“Good. Okay yes, you’re in the right place. Do you know where the other guy is?” you asked.

“Noah? Not sure. He should be here soon though. He knew we had this today.” It was 7:59. You had to report him to your father if he wasn’t there by 8:00. You sighed. Was it so hard for people to be on time? You arrived to everything at least five minutes early and had no problem with it. It irked you whenever people blatantly disregarded rules, but you supposed you could have expected so much from someone who vandalized houses of worship for fun. In your mind, that was just mean.

Your father characterized him as someone who was just sad and hurting. And maybe he was, but he was also a jerk.

When he still hadn’t arrived at 8:10, you determined he probably wasn’t going to and figured that there was no sense wasting time.

“Okay Nick. You see the buckets and sponges over there? Grab a sponge and start scrubbing.”

“Aye,” he answered and walked off. He was much more chipper than you’d have expected for a criminal. But then again, Jesus hung out with criminals, so they couldn’t be all bad.

You didn’t talk much. Nick got to work quickly and you observed, not knowing what else to do. A semi-awkward silence fell between the two of you and you busied yourself flipping through the pages on your clipboard.

It had all the rules and regulations you needed to follow, as well as the schedule for the next twelve weeks. Nick and Noah were to report to each location by 8:00 AM sharp. Failure to do so would mean another week of community service tacked on to the end of the program. They could potentially shorten their sentence if they demonstrated punctuality and good behavior, but not before they’d scrubbed and painted the wall they’d vandalized.

You’d read through all the instructions several times, yet you still had a feeling you were underprepared for this. Were you really just supposed to watch them? Or were you supposed to help them, too? You deliberated for a while until a deep voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“I’m here for my community service?”

You were greeted by a tall, slender figure with long brown hair hiding a pair of dark, indifferent eyes. He wore a black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up and matching black jeans with rips on the knees. On his arms, you could see a spiderweb of tattoos extending down to his hands and all the way up his neck.

This, you realized, was exactly what you had in mind when you pictured a delinquent. Everything about him whispered ‘danger.’ He wasn’t dressed all too different than his counterpart Nick, but something about the way he carried himself made him seem much darker. He wasn’t the sickly sweet type. If Nick was children’s cough syrup, Noah was arsenic. “Noah?” you asked, voice a bit hoarse. He grunted in affirmation but made no other move. You checked the time. 8:42.

“You’re forty-two minutes late,” you said. He blinked, but didn’t respond any further. “Which means I’ll have to report this.”

He shrugged. “So report it.”

His demeanor wasn’t something you’d ever experienced. In the church, everyone was always friendly and accommodating. It was a stark contrast to his counterpart, Nick, who reminded you of many of your church friends with how willing to cooperate he seemed.

“Well, grab a sponge and get to work, I guess.”

He did exactly that, wordlessly taking his place beside his accomplice. Together they scrubbed, not making much progress overall. It took them the entire session to reach a state where some of the graffiti could be painted over.

As they worked, you observed. For the most part, Noah remained stoic, but every once in a while, Nick would get him to crack a smile, either by flicking water at him to making some humorous comment you couldn’t quite catch.

Noah’s smile, you noticed, changed his face completely. It was much more innocent than you’d expect. It was rare, but genuine when it did occur, which humanized him to a point you were uncomfortable with, considering how angry at the two of them you still were.

“That’s all the time we have for this session,” you said once it had reached noon. “See you next week.” Without even saying bye or offering to help clean up the supplies, Noah dropped his sponge and walked away. Nick was a little kinder, telling you he’d see you next week and placing his sponge back in the bucket.

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” you muttered to yourself, and got to work cleaning up the supplies.

_____________

“So what was it like?” your friend Ava asked.

You shrugged in response. “I don’t know. They’re delinquents,” you said. “One of them was fine, I guess. The other was a bit of a jerk. But it was just kind of boring, really. They didn’t talk much. I just kind of watched them work.”

“A jerk how?” she asked. You could tell she was desperate for more information. She’d been hoping to hear an exciting story about how “bad kids” acted, and you got where she was coming from. You’d always been curious, too.

The church elders (your parents included) had always warned you about who to befriend and who to stay away from. These bad kids who go out drinking every night and get themselves into bad situations. In their stories, they always end up addicted to drugs and feeling lost with God in their lives. These were the people who needed to be witnessed to. But how were you supposed to tell them about God if you were also supposed to avoid them? It was all very confusing to you.

Both you and Ava had grown up entirely within the church community. Both of you had gone to private school, and while there were definitely some people there who were more misbehaved than the two of you, there were no real bad kids.

The biggest scandal you’d seen is when you found out Jason Carver had sex with his girlfriend. Which, admittedly, was a pretty big scandal because you were under the impression that everyone in that school had taken their purity vows seriously.

You couldn’t fathom what possessed Jason to commit such an outright sin. You were sure Jesus would forgive him, but seriously. What was he thinking?

Although the boys hadn’t been given quite as many purity talks as the girls had, so that could have had something to do with it. Each of the girls in the school were given a silver ring called a “promise ring” signifying their promise to stay pure until marriage. There was a whole big ceremony, too. Getting your promise ring was a huge deal in school. It was basically a coming-of-age ceremony.

You fiddled with the silver ring still on your finger. Ava had a matching one. You two had also made a friend pact where you’d both stay virgins until marriage. Though you weren’t sure how that would work out, because both of you had plans to marry Isaac and both of you were stubborn enough to hold out for him.

Regardless, the church community was pretty close-knit, and neither of you had interacted much with people who didn’t follow the same code of conduct. You could tell Ava was fascinated by the idea but so far, nothing too exciting had happened.

“Both of them drink alcohol though,” you mentioned. “I overheard them talking about a party they’d gone to the previous Friday, and Noah had mentioned he was really hungover and that’s why he’d woken up late.” He said this only to Nick, not to you.

“Wow. I wonder what that’s like.”

“Ava!” You scolded.

“Oh, whatever. Jesus himself drank wine,” and you just shrugged, because you didn’t have an argument for that. She was right. You supposed drinking didn’t go against the Bible. Just the rules your parents had laid out for you.

“Come on, we’re going to be late to practice,” she said. “Maybe we’ll get to see Isaac.”

You picked up your pace.

____________

Isaac was indeed there, looking very Jesus-like with his long hair in a bun on top of his head and his scruffy face. You supposed that might have been what drew you to him in the first place. He wore loose-fitting jeans slung low on his waist, a pair of Birkenstock sandals, and a plain white V-neck tight across his chest. He had a silver cross necklace that matched the silver purity ring.

Isaac was impossible not to fall for. He played guitar in the worship band, had the voice of an angel, and really practiced what he preached. So much so that it had been him to stop your kiss from progressing last summer, saying he didn’t want to do anything with you that either of you would regret.

A man who protects your purity rather than challenges it? What could be hotter?

“Okay, let’s run through ‘He Reigns’ again,” said Isaac, and he began to strum out the opening lines. Ava was on keys, Darian was on drums, and Josh played bass. You and Isaac sang.

It’s the song of the redeemed

Rising from the African plain.

It’s the song of the forgiven

Drowning out the Amazon rain.

You launched into a harmony with Isaac. This was one of your all-time favorite worship songs. You loved harmonizing with him. Your voices blended together so perfectly that the act felt almost intimate. Sometimes you’d hit a really beautiful note and you and Isaac would lock eyes and it felt like you were singing to each other.

Every night before bed, you prayed that God would bring the two of you together. And perhaps if you were good enough, he would answer those prayers, so you also prayed that He would be with you to help you not sin as much. Anything to improve your chances.

________

Noah was not thinking about his community service tomorrow. Six beers deep, he was only thinking of how he could see Madison Lewis’s nipples through her silky white shirt and that he’d like to wrap his lips around them if he could.

Madison hasn’t let him hit it in a while. Not that he was desperate. He’s had plenty of women since her, and will have plenty of women in the future. But she was always a particularly good fuck. Something about how unashamedly loud she moaned his name—especially when there were people just outside the bedroom door—really sent him.

She’d been making eyes at him all night, and he had a feeling tonight would be his chance if he played his cards right.

He kept his distance from her. She liked to play hard to get but didn’t want someone that simped for her too hard. He’d have to find his moment. If he knew her well enough, she’d get tired of the charade and present an opening to him, and then he’d move in for the kill.

That’s what set Madison apart. Noah was a hunter. He had no problem getting laid on a regular basis, but most women made it too easy. He barely had to show them attention for them to be practically throwing themselves at him. A good fuck is a good fuck, but he preferred a challenge.

Not that she would be super challenging, but at least she understood the game. Fucking her was like playing chess. There was strategy involved and she knew how to hold her own. The better he played, the more rewarding she’d be. She was reliable in that way.

Plus, she was one of the only women who knew what it was. She didn’t linger. She got in and got out without trying to pretend it was something it wasn’t—or worse, trying to force it into something it was never meant to be.

Too many times, he’d bang a girl who had played it cool with him at first, only to get obsessed and practically stalk him afterwards until he was forced to tell her he wasn’t interested. Whoever it was would cry and make him out to be the asshole, when he had been up-front about what he wanted from the beginning. For some reason, they always believe they were going to be the one to change him. They never were.

And okay, he might be an asshole in the fact that he always knows which of them will get clingy. By now, he’s had enough experience to tell. They come on too strong. They give him too many openings, worrying that he somehow didn’t understand what they were trying to communicate if he responded the first time. He got the hint. He just wasn’t interested.

At least he wasn’t interested if there were still other options available. If he got to the end of the night and all the good options had been taken, he’d throw them a bone and give them a good time, fully knowing that he was in for a week or two of headaches after they realized that he wasn’t going to suddenly fall in love.

Madison caught his eye and gave him a once-over. He was in. She turned to climb the stairs, exaggerating the sway of her hips as she walked and he followed, taking one last swig of his drink before setting it down on a nearby table and following her up.

_________

“Any idea where he is?” you asked Nick.

It was 8:07 and Noah still hadn’t shown up yet. Nick shrugged. “I was with him at Jolly’s party last night, but he disappeared and didn’t come back to our place. My guess is with Madison.” “I don’t know any of those people,” you said.

Nick laughed, showing a charmingly crooked front tooth. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

“Why is he going out partying if he knows he has community service in the morning?” you asked.

Nick chuckled as he pried the lid off the paint can. “I’m guessing you don’t get out much.”

“What do you mean by that?” you asked.

“Have you been to a party before?”

“Sure.”

“I mean one with alcohol,” he deadpanned. You blushed. “That’s what I thought.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because if you’ve been to a party, you’d understand why we go even if we have to get up early. That’s the fun of it. You get drunk. You hook up. You meet new people and you suffer the consequences because that’s what life is about.”

“Life is about more than just partying.”

“Something tells me you could use a bit of fun,” he replied.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you said, offended.

“Nothing,” he said, now pouring the paint into the tray and swiping his hair across his face. “Just that you seem a little uptight is all.”

You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but you didn’t want to prove him right by getting upset about it, so you said nothing.

Nick sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean for this to become a whole thing. I was just teasing.”

“I’m not upset,” you said, albeit defensively.

“Clearly.”

You sat with his comment for a moment.

“I have fun,” you said.

Nick smiled to himself. “I’m sure you have plenty of fun.”

“I do!” you protested. “Just not the kind of fun that ends up in having to do a semester of community service.”

He chuckled again, the smile not once having left his face. “And yet, here you are, with me.”

You didn’t have a response to that.

Someone cleared their throat behind you. You looked up and saw Noah towering over the two of you. “I know I’m late again,” he said. “In my defense I didn’t know that being late meant serving more time.” You noticed the tiniest of lisps sneak out of his mouth on ‘defense’ and ‘serving’ and it further humanized him in a way you wished it wouldn’t.

“You didn’t think there would be consequences?” you asked. He shrugged, removing his hood. His long hair was tied in a bun at the nape of his neck and a deep purple bruise appeared on the skin next to it.

“Shit,” said Nick and gave a low whistle. “Madison?”

Noah nodded without making eye contact with his friend.

“Good for you, man.”

“I’ll remind you that we’re on church grounds. Please watch your language,” you said.

Noah and Nick shared a look that you knew was meant to mock you, but you were adamant. They could behave however they wanted on their own time, but this was your time.

“We were just talking about how Saint Mary over here could use a little fun,” said Nick as he handed Noah a paint roller.

“Ha, ha,” you said sarcastically. “My name isn’t Mary.”

“Might as well be,” said Nick.

At that Noah snickered. “Why does he think you could use more fun?” asked Noah. The fact that this was the first time he was choosing to make conversation with you was not lost on you. And though you knew you’d get teased, it was worth it to establish some sort of rapport, or else how were you ever going to talk to him about God?

“He’s judging me because I’ve never been to a drinking party.”

“A drinking party?” asked Nick. “Did you hear that, Noah? A drinking party!” he said, clutching at his chest in mock scandalization.

You crossed your arms and sucked on your teeth for a moment. “I don’t think you’re the right judge for what kind of fun I should be having, frankly.”

Nick didn’t speak for a second, then held out his hand for you to shake. “Alright, I’ll give you that.”

“Thanks,” you said, shaking his hand.

“Do you attend this church?” said Noah.

“Yeah,” you said. “And it wasn’t cool to vandalize it. It’s really important to me.”

“I stand by what I did,” said Noah.

“Sorry Mary,” said Nick. “Won’t do it again.”

“Again, my name isn’t Mary. And don’t think I’m going to let you off easily. It’s because of you two that I’m roped into doing this for the next however many weeks.”

“They aren’t paying you?” asked Noah.

“No,” you replied, pointing to the wall to refocus them on the task at hand. They picked up on the hint and started working again. “My dad’s the pastor at the church that sponsors this youth center. He asked me to do it as a favor to him.”

“You’re dad’s the pastor?” said Nick, eyebrows lifting up on his forehead. His expression turned unreadable.

“Nick,” Noah said, soft but stern. They shared a look you couldn’t decipher and you sensed the tone of the conversation had shifted to one you weren’t familiar with. Noah looked serious. You couldn’t determine what expression was on Nick’s face. Something hung in the air between the two of you and you had a sneaking suspicion you weren’t going to like it.

________

“A pastor’s daughter!” Nick repeated when they got back to their shared apartment.

“Don’t even think about it,” said Noah.

“A pastor’s daughter, though.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Whyyyyy?” Nick whined.

“Forget it, man. I’m not doing this with you again. First of all, you have terrible taste. They always get clingy. Plus, we have to spent the next ten weeks with her. If it goes poorly for either of us, it’s going to be awkward.”

“A hundred dollars,” said Nick.

“And second of all,” said Noah, “you’d lose anyway. I already caught her staring at me.”

“Two hundred,” countered Nick.

“That chick is so prude, she wouldn’t open her legs for Jesus himself.”

Nick laughed at the imagery. “She’s kind of cute though, in a mousy, goody-two-shoes, kind of way.”

“Nick, I am begging you. Do not make this some sort of mission to bed her. There are enough prude women out there that offer whatever kind of challenge you’re looking for. Leave this one alone.”

Nick sighed. “You never want to have fun anymore.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “I just have better things to do than to compete for who can bed the pastor’s daughter. Plus, I learned my lesson from last time. Remember that groupie?”

Nick smiled. “Chelsea.”

“Yeah. Her. She wouldn’t leave me alone for weeks.”

Nick laughed. “Yeah but dude, she came to me as a rebound and straight sucked out my soul.”

“You are so missing the point, man. I’m not interested in your games anymore.”

Nick pouted. “You’re no fun. Guess I’ll just have to make it a solo game.”

“Just wait until community service is over, please?”

“No promises.”

Noah sighed and retreated to his bedroom, throwing himself down on the bed and rolling onto his back. Truth be told, he had already thought about what you might look like under your high-necked sweater. Nick was right about you being cute. And he could definitely use a challenge.

Plus it would be the ultimate fuck-you to the church. Sleeping with the pastor’s daughter? Taking her virginity? Corrupting the innocent?

He actually had some level of sympathy for you. Clearly you were raised in a household where you had to subscribe to that shit. You probably never even questioned your devotion to this made-up religion. You’d never been to a party. You definitely had never gone past first base with anyone. You lived life with such rigidity and fear of wrongdoing that you probably never let yourself stray from that tightrope.

He knew it well. He’d been raised in a catholic household by grandparents that had instilled the same kind of fear in him. Luckily, he got out when he was still in high school, but he still remembered what that catholic guilt was like. And what happened when he broke out.

All that pent-up self-control? The sexual shame you were taught to have. He knew what that looked like when it finally burst, and you were in for a wild awakening.

Logically, he knew he should stay away. Let you live your life. He wasn’t responsible for saving you from the church. But another part of him wanted to see you freed and felt like he’d be doing you a disservice by not exposing you to the other side.

__________

“I want to go to a drinking party,” Ava whined.

“Are you serious?”

“What? It sounds like fun. We don’t have to drink. We could just go and have a good time and stay sober.”

“Am I the only one who doesn’t want to risk getting an underage?” The two of you were headed to the World History class you shared on Mondays. She’d been prying you for more information on “the bad boys” as she called them. “And you really want to come home smelling like weed and booze and whatever else happens at those parties?”

“Sex?”

“Ava!”

“I just want to know what life is like on the other side is all.”

You sighed. “We don’t need to know what it’s like on the other side. It’s probably just a bunch of idiots getting sloppy drunk and grinding on each other.”

Ava laughed. “You’re so judgey! God won’t send us to Hell for attending one party.”

“I know,” you said, though your throat tightened infinitesimally at the mention of it, because really, who could know for sure? God could be testing you.

“Just promise me, if they invite you to one, you’ll bring me along?”

You laughed. “I doubt they’ll invite me to one. They seem like they already have all the friends they want.”

“You never know!” she said.

“True.”

Part of you was also curious about what happened at these parties that made them so fun that Noah and Nick still went even when they had to get up early, but another part of you wondered if this was His way of testing your commitment to determine if you were worthy of Isaac.

If it was a test, what would you need to do to pass?

_________

“You’re on time,” you said.

“Who’d have thought?” Noah replied. It was 7:48, and you’d only just arrived at the side when you had spotted Noah walking towards you, long arms swinging casually at his side. He wore a white shirt with a gray hoodie today. You tried to get a better look at the tattoos painting his forearms, but they were so numerous it was hard to identify any specific designs without making it obvious that you were staring.

“Is Nick with you?” you asked.

“He should be here soon. He was showering when I left.”

“Okay. Well, I guess we should get back to work.” Painting had finished last week, so this week, Nick and Noah were to rake the leaves that had fallen on the ground and in the parking lot. Noah got to work immediately and without complaint.

“How was your weekend?” he asked. You were surprised he was actually speaking to you, considering how distant he’d been the past two weeks.

“It was good. Yours?”

“Good.”

The conversation fizzled out before it had a chance to go anywhere. It was awkward being alone with Noah. You were trying to stay polite, but he didn’t give you anything to go on, and you were still so angry with him for what he did to the church.

It was so much easier to like Nick. He was at least friendly with you, which made it easier to forgive him. Plus, he seemed genuinely sorry that he had upset you.

“I went home early last night, like you said.”

“What?” you asked, having not processed the information.

“I went home from Jolly’s party early last night,” Noah said.

“Who is Jolly?” you asked.

“Our friend. He plays guitar in our band.”

“You have a band?” you asked.

He nodded. “We’ve only played basement shows locally so far. Nothing major, but it’s fun.” His lisp came out again and your heart softened towards him just a touch.

“What do you play?” you asked.

“A lot of instruments, but in the band I just do vocals.”

“No way,” you said. “I sing in our worship band.”

A small smile broke out on the corner of Noah’s mouth. “I’m guessing our music is a lot different than yours,” he said.

“What kind of music do you play?” you asked.

He cleared his throat. “It’s like…heavier than what you’re probably used to.”

“So like, screamo or whatever it’s called?”

Noah chuckled softly. “Something like that,” he said, focusing on raking up a stubborn clump of leaves.

“So why did you leave early?” you asked.

Noah continued to focus on where his rake met the ground in front of him. “I didn’t want to keep adding time on to the end of my service,” he said.

You laughed, picking a leaf on the ground and twisting it around in your fingers by the stem. “Turning over a new leaf, are we?” you asked. You waited for him to look up and notice the pun. When he did, he stopped raking and stared blankly.

“Did you really just say that to me?”

“I stand by what I did,” you said, echoing his words from last week.

Noah stayed still and silent for a long moment, before nodding to himself, and then quickly, without warning, using his rake to kick up a large pile of leaves in your direction. “Hey!” you shouted, brushing off the leaves that had stuck to your wool sweater. Noah said nothing, turning back to raking. The half-smile never left the corner of his mouth.

Had you misjudged Noah? He had seemed so cold to you at first, but he’d already become much friendlier than he had been that first week.

“So do you think he went back to bed?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” said Noah.

You sighed and fell back into the large pile of leaves Noah had been working on. He continued raking, piling the leaves on top of you.

“You know that’s how you get ticks,” he said. You hadn’t thought of that. You jumped up, brushing all the leaves off you and scanning yourself for ticks. You took your hat off to examine it and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Do you see any on me?” you asked.

“Let me check,” he said, and paused raking. You stood with your back to him, feeling awfully short compared to his towering frame. Noah crouched down to peer at the back of your neck. He lightly brushed the remaining leaves from your shoulders, and then you felt his icy fingers on the back of your neck when he pulled your collar out to check.

“Your fingers are so cold,” you said, voice coming out breathier than you would have liked.

“Sorry,” he said softly from behind you. His voice was gentle as he focused. His fingers pushed your hair out of the way so he could see and tingles erupted over the back of your neck. “Forgot my gloves. Hold on.” You felt him pick at something that clung to your hair. When you turned around, he was inspecting a brown speck pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “I think it’s just a leaf. You’re good.” He flicked the speck away and went back to raking. You, however, couldn’t shake the memory of his fingers ghosting over your skin.

“Did you go to church?”

It felt like a loaded question, but you decided to entertain him. You needed something to focus on.

“I did. Why?”

He shrugged, continuing to watch himself work rather than look at you while he spoke. “No reason.”

“Okay then,” you said, guarded.

“Do you go every week?” he asked after a few more moments.

“I do.”

“And do you like it?” he asked.

“Why? You thinking of giving your life to God?” You meant it to be teasing, but it came out more bitter than you intended.

He smiled to himself. “Just curious as to what you get from it. Why you’re so devoted.”

“It’s not all rules and restrictions, you know,” you said, feeling yourself growing more defensive. “It can actually be kind of fun, and pretty meaningful too.”

“If you say so,” he said. “I just don’t see the fun in being told how to live.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” you said. “I like having some guidelines to live by.”

He shrugged, but didn’t say anything else and you fell into an uncomfortable silence.

“It’s not like that all the time,” you continued after a while, watching him rake leaves into a modest pile. “There’s a lot of encouragement. And it can be really rewarding to devote yourself to a greater cause.”

“Seems like a cult to me.”

“It’s not a cult.”

You’d heard the arguments from people before, especially online. Every Atheist you’ve ever talked to does this same dance. They are upset that you believe in something they don’t like and react by trying to disprove God. Each of them brings up their own version of the same argument, all thinking that they, in their brilliance, have somehow got it all figured out and can change your opinion. They never can.

“Do you follow all the rules?” he asked.

“I try to. Why?”

“Just wondering. So you believe everything that the Bible says is true?”

“It’s complicated,” you answered honestly.

“How so?”

This was the part of the conversation you didn’t like. You were well aware the Bible had a lot of contradictions, and you were willing to admit that some of the stuff in there wasn’t realistic, but most people you talked with couldn’t fathom how you still subscribed to an idea that wasn’t completely perfect.

“There’s a lot of great wisdom in the Bible. But it was written by humans, and sometimes humans don’t always do a good job of interpreting God’s will.”

“So how do you know what parts to believe and what not to believe?” he asked.

“I don’t. I just do my best and hope that God will guide me,” you said.

“I guess I can respect that.”

“You can?”

“Yeah. I mean, I still think it’s bullshit, but I’m not here to tell you what to believe. I’m not the church.”

“Touche.”

He cracked a genuine smile, and you were caught off-guard by how pleasant it was. It was almost enough to distract you from that horrendous neck tattoo.

Just then Nick came jogging up.

“You’re—,” you began, but were cut off.

“I’m late, I know,” he said, struggling to catch his breath. “My bad.”

“Well, grab a rake and get to work,” you said, gesturing to where the other rake was leaned up against the tree.

“So what don’t you agree with?” Noah asked, continuing your conversation from earlier.

“Most of Leviticus is garbage,” you said as Nick fell into line between you and Noah and began raking. “Like, that stuff about women not being able to leave their house during their period? Or not wearing blended fabrics? Ridiculous. I think they were all health codes written for the time.”

Noah nodded. “What about homosexuality?” he asked.

That was a sore spot between you and your church. “I don’t think it’s wrong,” you said. “I think if God is love, then love can never be evil. My father doesn’t exactly agree. We get into a lot of arguments about it. It’s something I feel strongly about and have to pray about a lot.”

Noah nodded. “I can accept that. But the church has still done a lot of harm to that community. They should be held accountable.”

“I agree,” you said, moving out of the way so Nick could rake by your feet. “And some churches do outreach to try to heal some of the wounds. One of our sister churches even goes to the local pride parade every year. And they do fundraising to help with AIDS screening.”

“What about your church?” he asked.

You shifted. “My church still has some learning to do.”

“And do you try to educate them?” he asked. “As a pastor’s daughter, you probably have more influence than most.”

“I try,” you said, starting to feel like you were standing trial. “But I’m just one person. I don’t have as much influence as you’d think. I have hope it’ll get better though. I see a lot of churches moving towards a more progressive stance.”

Noah nodded, but didn’t say anything else. You figured that was about as much approval as you were going to get. Still, it was better than nothing.

“I just can’t get over the whole sex thing,” said Nick.

“Nick.” Noah’s voice came out stern and full of warning.

It took you a few moments to register what he had said. When you did, you inhaled sharply through your nose. Nobody in your social circle ever talked about sex openly, aside from saying how they wouldn’t have sex before marriage. You sensed this conversation could be a dangerous one, but your curiosity was piqued.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, you’re not allowed to have sex, right?” asked Nick, ignoring Noah.

“Not until marriage,” you said.

“How do you live like that? I could never!”

On the surface level, there was a part of you that was aware that most people in the secular world did not actually wait for marriage, but because you’d been mostly confined to your immediate social circle, you hadn’t actually conversed with someone who was so openly comfortable with talking about sex. You were both intrigued and so far out of your comfort zone that you struggled to keep up.

“I avoid tempting situations,” you said, noticing the hard set in Noah’s jaw that hadn’t been there earlier. His brows were furrowed and he raked slightly more vigorously.

“How do you not get into tempting situations?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know. I just…don’t?”

“Do you just…not think about it? What happens when you’re talking to an attractive guy?”

“What do you mean? I just talk. I mean sure, I might get giddy or nervous, but I don’t like…I don’t know,” you trailed off. “What happens to you when you talk to an attractive woman?”

“I honestly don’t know if I should tell you, sweet child. It might be too much for your virgin ears.”

“Gross,” you said.

Nick threw his head back into a big belly laugh, ignoring the rake for the moment. “I can’t help it! I love women. They’re so beautiful and…just…sexy.” He said this while drawing a set of hourglass curves with his hands.

“Can’t you admire them without lusting?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. That’s like asking me not to breathe. What’s the point? I’m not interested in being a masochist.”

You leaned against the brick building and crossed your arms, sizing him up.

“You’re not afraid of the consequences?”

He faced you, leaning on his rake. “Consequences? Like STDs or pregnancy? I’m not an idiot. I use protection.”

“No, I mean. Like. Aren’t you afraid of going to Hell?”

“Hell?” he asked, bewildered. “You believe in that?”

You looked at him, wide-eyed. “Yeah,” you answered. “Don’t you?”

“No!” he said. “I didn’t realize people still believed in that.”

“What about you?” you asked Noah.

“I’m not part of this,” he said, refusing to look up from his rake.

“He knows better,” said Nick.

Noah continued working, but eventually spoke. “I believe it’s something that adults make up to scare children into behaving. Like the boogeyman.”

“It could be real,” you said.

“Doubt it,” interjected Nick. “And if it was, I think it would take a lot more than a few fucks to wind up there. That being said,” he shrugged, and went back to raking, “a life without sex seems pretty hellish to me.”

“Nick,” said Noah with even more bite. “Drop it.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, raising his arms up in surrender. “Just making conversation.” He grabbed his rake and went back to working on the lawn, while you finished out the rest of the shift in relative silence. A strange and curious energy hung in the air between the three of you. It wasn’t a bad energy, exactly, but it wasn’t altogether comfortable.

You reached your hand up to wipe away another leaf from the back of your neck, fingers brushing over where Noah’s had been earlier. The tingles stayed with you throughout the next several hours.

____________

“Ladies and gentlemen, there is a war going on. And it’s not a war of the physical realm. No, it’s a war for the soul of the world,” Pastor Jeremy said, in his stern but somber preacher voice.

This was a common theme for sermons. How there is a constant and ongoing battle for the soul of the world, and how Satan and his army are using every tool in their belt to corrupt the hearts of the innocent.

“It is our job,” he continued, “to make sure the devil doesn’t win.”

A message of evangelism. According to many pastors, it was each of our responsibility to save the souls of everyone else. Church goers do this through all sorts of methods. Missions trips were popular. You’d been on one to Guatemala when you were in high school. A group of students went down to build schools and teach other kids about the gospel.

But lately something had been bugging you about this kind of message. Because what if Noah and Nick were right, and Hell didn’t exist? What if it was just something adults told to children to scare them into behaving?

And furthermore, did that mean that your faith was only present because you were afraid of going to Hell? What would your relationship with God look like if you didn’t fear that fate? Would you have one at all?

These questions weighed on you heavily.

“Hey,” said Isaac, nudging you with his elbow. The sermon had ended, and you’d gotten up and started walking out along with everyone else without fully realizing what you were doing. You, Isaac, and a few other students from the campus ministry usually went out for lunch after church on Sundays.

“Hey,” you said, falling into stride with him as he walked into the foyer.

“What’s up?” he asked. “You seemed a little distracted today.”

It was odd of Isaac to comment on your demeanor. You weren’t used to him paying enough attention to you to mention anything.

“Oh. Maybe I was. I didn’t notice.”

He put his hands in his front pockets and leaned his weight on one hip. He looked good in this pose, and it was possible he knew that.

“Anything on your mind?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Not that I can think of.”

Isaac seemed to notice the difference in your mood. Normally, you’d be the one asking him all the questions in an attempt to connect.

“I know what it is,” said Ava, sidling up to the two of you, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Or should I say who.”

“Ava,” you warned.

“Who?” asked Isaac, his interest piqued.

You sighed in frustration. Ava, for as good of a friend she was, loved involving herself in drama and jumped at the chance to involve everyone else, too.

“Oh, just a couple delinquents,” she said in a teasing lilt.

You didn’t know why you even told Ava about the conversation you’d had with them. You’d like to think she wouldn’t use that information to her advantage, but she hadn’t always been the most reliable friend. Truly, she was as much a friend because of circumstance as she was a friend because you shared any solid connection.

Few people understood what it was like to grow up in a church and be sent to a Christian school. Your graduating class only saw fifteen people. You connected with Ava the most out of everyone, but that didn’t mean you trusted her very much.

And you were right to be hesitant, considering she was currently repeating your private conversation to Isaac simply to gain his attention.

“Is that so?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “And who are these delinquents?”

“You’ll have to ask her dad about that one.”

“I’m not listening to this,” you said. “I have sleep I need to catch up on. I’ll see you guys later.”

Truthfully, it was just an excuse to get away from them and clear your head. As much as you usually craved opportunities to spend time with Isaac, you were not feeling it today.

Ava was right. You were distracted because of a couple delinquents—one in particular—and you couldn’t pretend that you weren’t.

Perhaps this was Jesus telling you that you needed to spend more time with him. Perhaps maybe you’d be the one to guide him towards the light?

On the other hand, it could be temptation from the enemy. In which case, you needed to guard your heart.

The only way to know for sure was to pray about it, which you had been doing in earnest, but there was still no clear answer in front of you.

__________

“So I have a theory,” Nick said softly as he took a break from vacuuming the carpet of the worship center. Noah was across the room, headphones on and head bobbing as he dusted the backs of the chairs. He’d apparently given up on trying to tame his friend.

“And what is that?”

“Okay, so it’s maybe you magically just have an inhuman amount of self-control, and I’m not saying it’s not possible, but I’m willing to bet that it’s more likely you just haven’t been tested.”

“Nick, what are you talking about?” Noah asked from across the room.

Nick placed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Our conversation last week,” he said. Noah rolled his eyes and went back to dusting, but he let his headphones dangle around his neck, freeing his ears.

“Okay, and?”

“You say it’s not hard for you to avoid tempting situations, but I imagine you probably don’t get into many with the crowd you run with. Like, have you ever even kissed a guy?”

“Why is that any of your business?” you said.

Across the room, Noah sighed and padded over to the two of you.

Nick took the tiniest side-step closer to you. “Just making conversation.”

You took a deep breath, trying to decide whether or not to play whatever game this was. On the one hand, it really wasn’t any of his business. On the other, you were interested to see where he was going with this.

“Okay, I’ll bite. I have kissed before.”

“One of the church guys?” he asked, shifting his body to face you more. Noah observed silently from beside his friend.

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “At summer camp last year.”

“Who initiated?”

“He did, but we’d been flirting all summer before then.” “And when was this? What happened? Paint me a verbal picture.” Nick was visibly interested, shifting his weight from converse-clad foot to converse-clad foot as he looked at you expectantly. You had to admit that it was kind of cute. Noah remained stoic but attentive.

“It was late August,” you said. “Like I said, he and I had been flirting all summer. It was the last night of camp, and all of the counselors were having an end-of-year party.”

“You were a counselor? Oh man, this is too good.”

“What does me being a counselor have anything to do with it?” you asked.

“Nothing. Keep going.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking that you might not even want to know the reason. “So anyway, we take a walk down to the beach. The sun had already set by that point and it was a new moon, so we could barely see anything. We get down to the beach and decide to go for a nighttime swim.”

“Oh, damn,” he said.

“Language,” you said. “We are in a house of God.”

He made the sign of the cross and put his hands together in mock prayer. “Forgive me. Go on.”

You had to admit, it felt good to have someone hanging on your every word like this, even if his motives were less than ideal.

“Okay. So don’t get too excited. We were still wearing our bathing suits under our clothes from the beach game tournament we’d had with the campers earlier that day. But we get in the water, and he’s like ‘where are you?’ because we couldn’t see anything, and I reached out my hand. He took it and pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. Then he said he really enjoyed hanging out with me this summer and asked if he could kiss me.”

“He asked? Ugh,” Nick scoffed.

“What’s wrong with that? It was sweet. He respected me.”

“It was weak,” he replied. “No wonder nothing else happened.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, crossing your arms. You had appreciated that Isaac cared about getting consent before he kissed you.

“I don’t know how to explain this concept,” he said, resting his hand on his chin. “Noah? Want to take this one?”

Noah pursed his lips, debating whether or not he wanted to get involved, but ultimately relented.

“It’s like,” he said, “a guy who asks to kiss a woman is kind of a coward. When you really want to kiss someone, you just do it and risk getting shot down.”

The image of Noah, standing in the lake with you instead of Isaac, tattooed hand grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss flashed in the forefront of your brain before you could shake it away.

“I don’t know about that,” you said. “I always thought it was like, a sign that a guy respects you.”

“Nuh-uh,” said Nick. “It means he’s afraid of rejection.”

“Is that really true?” you asked, looking at Noah.

He nodded. “A guy who respects you reads your body language and understands context. He’d know whether you want to kiss him because he’d pay attention to how you’re acting. You wouldn’t have to spell it out for him.”

“Huh,” you said, processing what he had said. You’d never considered it like that before, but looking back, you had put in a lot of work dropping hints to Isaac, going as far as to make it obvious that you were into him.

“How was the kiss?” said Nick.

“It was nice.”

Nick slapped his thigh and barked out a laugh. Noah cracked his signature half-smile.

“So it sucked.”

“What? No! It was really nice.”

“Trust me,” Nick said. “If it would have been a good kiss, you wouldn’t describe it as ‘nice.’”

“I don’t know if I agree with you. I think a kiss can just be nice sometimes.”

“Yeah, if you’re an old married couple maybe. But it just goes to show that you’ve never actually been properly kissed. And that you don’t know true temptation.”

“I don’t think I like this conversation anymore,” you said. “It feels like you’re making fun of me.”

“I might be, just a little bit,” he said. You bristled. “And I’m sorry,” he finished. “I don’t mean to make fun of you. I just think you’re missing out on some really important life experiences. And frankly, it’s a shame that the men in your life have failed you so terribly.”

You softened a bit. “I don’t like being mocked, but I suppose you’re right. I do wish the kiss would have been a little bit more…I don’t know,” you trailed off.

“Passionate?” Noah offered. You locked eyes with him and a warmth grew in your stomach. You liked feeling like he understood you.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d dreamed my whole life of my first kiss, and when it finally happened, it was exciting because it was Isaac, but—,”

Nick perked up. “Isaac?”

You hadn’t meant to say his name.

“Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Does Isaac go here?” he asked.

“Nick, please. I don’t want any drama.”

“I promise I won’t say anything. I’m just curious.”

“I’m not telling you anything else about him,” you said. “All you need to know is that he kissed me. It was okay. And then he stopped because he didn’t want to get tempted.”

Noah made a face when you said that last part, and you knew there was something behind it, but you didn’t want to ask. He might just join in and make fun of you.

“I’m done dusting,” said Noah finally. “Want me to start on the windows?”

“That would be great, actually,” you said. “Take Nick with you.”

Noah nodded and latched on to Nick’s collar, directing him over to the supply closet where the window cleaner was kept.

You sat on the steps leading up to the alter and crossed your arms over your knees, resting your chin on them.

You were disappointed in the kiss, you realized. They were right, and you hadn’t even noticed until now. After that night, you and Isaac hadn’t spoken about it again. It was as if it had never happened.

You had always surmised you were just better at self-control than your secular peers, and had clung to the identity, basing a level of self-worth on that idea, but what if that wasn’t true? What if they were right about the rest too, and you were missing out on all these important experiences? Were you just naïve?

You supposed that was a good thing. After all, chasing after those experiences could get you in a lot of trouble and lead you down a bad road. But then again, how were you supposed to resist temptation in the future if you couldn’t even recognize it? What would happen when something came along that did tempt you? How would you handle it?

Did you even want to know?

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfiction

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winstonsns · 2 days

Text

the gang with a soc!reader

authors note: sorry the last one was kind of all over the place. i tend to ramble when i write so ill try to stay more on topic this time. in this preference, you and the characters will already be a couple :3 im also wondering if people are clicking the hashtags then they see my posts?? so if that’s what’s happening and you can see my posts when you click the hashtags please tell me because i have no idea if it’s working LMAO

includes: ponyboy, johnny, darry, soda, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 2.0k

warnings: mild cussing, mentions of fighting/getting jumped

PONYBOY CURTIS

you both are academic BEASTS so you’re somewhat rivals and trying to get to the top of the class

but you’re still together, it’s a healthy relationship

most of the time, you’ll actually walk him home from wherever you are since it’s safe for you to walk home on your own, but since he’s a greaser it’s not safe for him

when you met the gang they taught you how to fight in case some greasers or even some socs tried to fight you

by walking him home, you’ve actually prevented him from getting beat up

you like to take him out to get food or something he wants when he gets a good grade since he gets happy when they’re high

sometimes you’ll get lower grades than him and you two will study together, or reversed

you’ll get him a new book every time he finishes another one, by the end of the year he has a new shelf just filled with books you’ve given him

you occasionally read him to sleep when he’s having a hard time, or again reversed

he falls asleep pretty quickly when you do this and he really appreciates it

you always sit together during assemblies and choose to be each others partner in the classes you have together

if you don’t decide to do track one year you’ll go to his meets, and after you always take him out to eat since you’re proud

if he’s extra tired then he’ll ask to go home so you will

you learned how to cook so he can have big nice meals, along with baking chocolate cake when soda and darry aren’t there to make it

pony thinks you make it better than darry but will never tell him that

he really loves spending time with you and feels like you’re the first person besides johnny to really understand him

you made him think about socs in a different way too, in a good way

yall are just humans doing what you know best, some in different environments and had different parents with different parenting styles

you like to bring him to the best places in tulsa to watch the sunsets

you also get the best polaroids of the sunsets and the colors are so beautiful

JOHNNY CADE

as soon as he told the gang that he was dating someone they were excited for him, then they found out you were a soc

dally told him to break up with you without even knowing you, johnny told him to give you a chance

when johnny invited you to the curtis house to meet his friends, you brought presents for all of them since you wanted to make a good impression

you had your ways about finding what they like and don’t like

they immediately took a liking to you when you gave them presents and a kiss on johnnys cheek

you’d patch him up and give him bandaids to take home after getting beat up by socs or his parents

sometimes you’d give him money and he would use that money to get you something you’ve been wanting for a while

he’s always so thankful for everything you do for him and everything you give him

since your parents don’t really care about the differences between greasers and socs, they let johnny stay over since they know things are rough at home

sometimes they’ll take you and him out for dinner with them and you think it’s so cute

he was nervous your parents wouldn’t like him since most of the socs parents would think he’s gross

he’s always proud of you for naturally getting good grades and seeing the smile on your face when you get your report card

sometimes when he’s upset you two will cuddle in your bed or you’ll drive him to a restaurant or fast food place

he always feels bad about spending your money but you tell him not to feel bad about it since you have more

DARRY CURTIS

things got more financially stable when you came into his life

you’d help him pay groceries and the bills if he was struggling, you also helped around the house

sometimes he’ll wake up to the smell of bacon, waffles, eggs, etc and suddenly its like he doesn’t have to be the responsible one 24/7

having you in his life has improved everything, and his brothers are so thankful to have you there too

you’re like a mother to them and they’re comfortable enough to open up to you

sometimes you’ll ask him out on cute little dates randomly just so he can get a break of hard work

he’ll take the day off and get all dressed up since you told him you were taking him to a really fancy restaurant

occasionally you’ll get your nails done just for your dates and he always notices

you’ll ask him “which color is better” and he’ll say “aren’t they the same?” then you have to explain to him that one is darker than the other

he still doesn’t see the difference but chooses one anyway since he likes to see you happy

he’s literally so in love with you and how you’ll do romantic and domestic things for him

you’re so beautiful and perfect in his eyes, and sometimes he’ll stare at you and his brothers will tease him

he really loves being around you and having you by his side

you also helped him become calmer, that pony and soda have their own problems and darry yelling at them probably just makes them scared

he starts to actually communicate with them and you’ll give him gifts for completing or succeeding because why not

he’s always like “hon, you didn’t have to get me this…” but you can see he’s happy with whatever you give him

he just loves you so much and his brothers love you too but obviously not romantically

SODAPOP CURTIS

people actually think the both of you are socs, i mean they’re half right

they think soda is a soc since he’s so handsome and think you’re a soc because of your mannerisms and how you’re very beautiful

you’ll always visit him at the DX just to hang out with him

your parents love him and how he treats you so they also let him stay over at your house

sometimes when it’s sodas turn to get groceries from the store, you’ll go along with him

he just wants to be around you whenever he can

you’ll offer to pay for the groceries plus stuff he doesn’t need but instead wants

once he got a pimple and he freaked the fuck out

you bought him some cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen and pimple patches

you taught him how to use them and when, and in which order to use them in

his pimple went away in a few days

since you’re so smart and get good grades, you’ll help pony with his homework sometimes

soda will stare at you helping him from far away, he thinks it’s adorable that you two are bonding

when the two of you are in your room, you’ll play frank sinatra and the little dippers while having a home-date with sweets :3

you two have so much fun and he even opens up to you about his problems

you offer to get him a therapist but he says it’s that bad, you tell him to talk to you if he wants to talk about it again

he legit treats you like a princess and you love it

yall are the most attractive couple EVER no one can tell if they wanna be you or be with you

DALLAS WINSTON

when he realized he liked you he knew he had to protect you with his life

he needed a break from loud and annoying girls, then he found you

you could get quiet at times and you weren’t constantly screaming and acting like an annoying 12 year old boy

you got him to steal less since you could pay for things on your own

he didn’t really listen and still stole money from other people so he could get you things

whenever he got put in prison you could always bail him out due to the money you have

if he had to serve time then you’d give him money so he could spend it and get necessities

you’ll also make diy crafts for him on your guys anniversary and his birthday

he brings you to meetups with the gang, and they love you being there with him

you spoil him rotten and he loves it

makes him feel like a princess, weirdly enough

he’ll steal money to spoil you too, pays for your nails sometimes

you told him you wanted specific flowers once and he got you flowers sometime the next week, he acted nonchalant about it but he loved the happy look on your face

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

sometimes you’re quiet but he always finds a way to bring you to tears after laughing so hard

he’s literally the funniest person you’ve ever met

he never really expected a soc to get so loud since they were normally reserved and didn’t talk to many people

anyway you brought him to fucking disneyland once and he LOVED it

you booked a hotel and everything so yall saw mickey mouse

two-bit kinda laughed at him but he seemed happy so he didn’t care

he loves traveling with you and brags about it to the gang all the time

they say it’s cool then act like they don’t care but they’re kinda jealous he gets all that stuff

they’re happy for him though

sometimes you’ll get him little mickey figurines and he’ll put them on his nightstand, sometimes even carry it with him if it’s a keychain

he never would’ve expected a soc to be so nice to someone like him

he’s really glad that you love him and you show it

STEVE RANDLE

before you two started dating he tried to avoid you at all costs

he kinda thought you’d beat up him and his friends so he just stayed away from you

anyway when you guys started dating you’d drive him to the DX

you’d give him tips just for fun even if you didn’t buy anything from him

you’d buy him all sorts of little trinkets and such just so he’d have something to mess around with

i don’t have a lot of knowledge on him bro pls bear with me LMAO

he’s almost always with soda so you kind of became his best friend naturally

you’ll buy steve food on his breaks and drive him to restaurants or fast food places and you’ll eat on a bench or in a field together

you talk about some shit that happened at work while he listens

he’ll occasionally get you some food since he knows you like sweets

then you repay him with something he’s wanted for a while that he’s been asking for

whether it’s a book or food or a trinket idk

he loves you so much and is glad soda gets along with you so well

sorry this one’s shorter! i’ll try to make the preference longer next time. i’m gonna try to post at least twice per week but if im feeling good ill try to post more 💗 thank you for reading!

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yuurei20 · 2 days

Note

Hello!! Sorry if this is a little something out of your wheelhouse but I keep seeing people say Yana said in a tweet that the Twst’s story will continue after the current main story arc. Do you know if she actually said it or have a link to that tweet? It feels like an urban legend and idk if I can believe it without seeing it for myself. Thanks if you get around to answering this and if not then have a good night/afternoon/morning!

Hello hello! Thank you for this question!

There has been no explicit statement released by Yana, Aniplex or anyone on the direction of the main story (that I have been able to find), which makes sense!

According to the interviews we have, plans/ideas/characters are changing all the time behind the scenes (sometimes long after development has begun), so someone saying "these are our plans for the future!" at any time would be very unwise. It is a volatile industry!

Proving that something has happened is much easier than proving something has not (which is likely why a lot of these rumors get so popular), but I can certainly share the things that we know have been said! ^^

I reviewed the two official interviews that Yana has given on Twst, one published in the Magical Archives game guide in 2020 and one posted to the Apple Store in 2023, and here are all the comments that might be meant to relate to future endeavors!

・"I wrote this story with the intention of developing mutual understandings through such clashes. So no matter where this story goes, it will never be about forgiveness or saving someone."

・"I would like to have raid battles where players fight together. The theme of the game is 'making problem children cooperate with each other,' so I feel that such an addition to the gameplay would allow us to better feel the growth of the characters."

・"I would also like to collaborate with other Disney productions. The characters in 'Twisted Wonderland' are also Disney characters, so I don't know if collaboration is the right word."

・"I would also like to continue to dress the characters up in gorgeous outfits. I have so many ideas for what kind of fashion I want them to wear, what kind of makeup I want them to try…there are so many things I want to do."

・"As long as villains are the basis for these characters, I think it is important that they never become overly good people."

・"However, I am sure that more and more events are going to be held in the future, so I am wondering if parallel and ‘if’ worlds are going to start appearing."

・"The text of the first book is 35,000 Japanese characters long but book 6 has over 250,000. Up until about book 3 users are still getting to know the characters, so we prioritized helping people come to understand the world of Twst and keeping things compact. After the game was released, however, it felt like people were reading much more deeply into the story than we had anticipated. So now I include much more information than was provided during those setup chapters."

・Going forward things are going to be on a much larger scale, incorporating not only the vertical and horizontal axes of the story but also expanding upon elements such as a present, past and future. Look forward to Book 7 (currently on chapter 2)!

・"We will continue to develop this game that emphasizes the spirit of villains that cannot be discouraged, and we hope that our users will continue to enjoy it.”

・"Thank you so much for playing Twisted Wonderland. We will continue to do our best to make this game into something that can add a little more fun and color to your daily lives."

I have seen fan-rumors before of maybe an RSA arc, or perhaps the 4th years being introduced, or even the current class graduating to welcome a new wave of 1st-year students, but they are all unproven theories ^^ Very fun to think about, but unofficial!

#twstask #twisted wonderland #twstyana

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waddingham · 3 days

Note

rebecca wants a pet

this is just a silly little ditty but here <3

Amongst all these things and more, he has learned that she does not do subtlety. Her opinions, thoughts, wants are shared unflinchingly, in a way he admires as someone who tends towards pleasing others over himself. She doesn't demand and criticize but simply shares herself with him – her opinion is always a prompt to hear his, her thoughts are little hands reaching out to know and be known by him, her wants passed along in hopes of him wanting too. And she makes it easy to respond in kind.

There's probably half a million things he's learned about Rebecca Welton in the first year of living with her. Big things and small things – she can destroy a bowl of berries and nuts in a matter of seconds. She has an almost frightening ability to hold her alcohol. She does a tiny bit of yoga everyday and those minutes of solitude are important to her. She loves him voraciously, would do just about anything for anyone in her club, and doesn't believe she will ever uncomplicate her relationship with her mother.

And because she so rarely employs subtlety, he doesn't think it's anything notable at all when she finds a new minor interest.

"Look at this."

He turns his eyes from the TV to her, stretching an arm along the cushion as she scoots closer along the couch. She angles her phone so he can see – it's a video of a tabby cat with a mouthful of leaves, chirping as it crosses someone's yard. He grins at it, chuckling as it drops them and sits with satisfaction next to its contribution.

"She brings them a little pile of leaves everyday," Rebecca chuckles.

"Look at her go. Doin' her part."

"She's a good girl."

"Lot better than a mouthful of mice," he remarks.

She gives him a horrified look.

"What?" he chuckles. "You never had a cat?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Have you?"

"There was an outdoor cat when I was growing up that hung around our house. My mom hated it 'cause she's scared to death of mice and loves the birds and he would come around with either one or the other dead in his mouth and leave it. Tryin' to get on her good side, I guess."

She stares at him. "That's disgusting."

He laughs a little bit, tilting his head. "Yeah. He brought a bird up on the stoop once, still movin', and Mama was so mad, she smacked the back of his head for him to drop it. And he did. And then another little bird came flutterin' out of his mouth and flew off."

She shakes her head, a smile pulling at her mouth. "You're full of shit."

"I am not," he laughs. "Saw it with my own eyes. He was a big fella."

She snorts, looking back down at her phone. She stays close, leaning against his side as she scrolls on.

It takes him a while to take notice of the running theme. They send all kinds of silly stuff back and forth – videos and pictures and jokes. She sends him screenshots of funny tweets she sees, sometimes about him or the team, sometimes just random things she thinks will amuse him.

But suddenly there's a very large uptick in cat videos.

×××

She blames Keeley. It's Keeley's fault entirely.

She doesn't know what possessed her friends, if it was the influence of Phoebe or what, but they've adopted a cat – a beautiful, lithe, sleek one that could nearly be taken for a tiny leopard for its coloring. She's a lively little thing, playful and talkative, but she seems to adore Rebecca. When she goes over, she spends the length of her visit circling her feet or pacing her lap on the couch, purring like a fiend, pushing her head into Rebecca's palm.

And, goddammit, Rebecca likes it. She likes watching her prance around, flopping around on the floor for attention, just in general being entertaining and sweet.

She sees them everywhere now – or at least is really noticing them as she scrolls through social media, seeing Leslie's sons posting videos of their new kitten and Keeley and Roy's little minx chasing her tail and random strangers with unnaturally gorgeous felines.

She hasn't any idea how Ted feels about getting a pet. And normally she'd just tell him, have all her arguments outlined, or just recklessly show up with one one day, but they have quite literally just settled into living together. She doesn't want him to say yes just because she wants it and then hate it and hate taking care of it – she wants him to want it too. So she's going a little more insidious. Or trying to, sending out feelers by sending him cats and seeing what he says.

She's not having much luck. He will aww and ooh, but doesn't express any disdain or desire to get one. Which isn't helping her.

"Who's idea was the cat?" she asks Keeley.

"I wanted a dog and Roy wanted a cat," she says, stroking Camilla's back as she arches on the couch next to her. "But we settled on her 'cause she's so cool and active and spirited, she's like a low maintenance dog."

Keeley gives her a little grin. "You want one, don't you?"

"I do," Rebecca admits, scratching Camilla's neck as she crosses to her.

"You guys should get one then," Keeley says. "They're so easy."

"I haven't asked Ted what he thinks yet," she says.

"Well, I don't think he would refuse you anything, first of all," she says, sipping her wine. "And also how cute would he be with kittens all over him?"

"Stop," she says, tilting her head. "Or I'll show up at home with a box of them tomorrow."

Keeley giggles. "I think he would like a cat. Or a dog, but I would guess you–"

"I do not want a dog," Rebecca says. That's a lot more mess, care, and maintenance to jump right into when she's never even had a pet.

She hopes he wouldn't rather have a dog.

She supposes she's going to just have to bring it up outright – he's not catching on and she's already tired of trying to be slick about it.

×××

"Hey," he calls out when he hears the front door open. He gets one in response as she comes in, kicking her shoes off. She's earlier than he expected – she usually lingers late into the evening when she goes over to Keeley and Roy's.

He looks up at her from his sprawl on the couch as she rounds the sofa and immediately plants a knee between him and the cushions, crawling up and laying over him.

"You weren't gone long," he remarks as she settles herself against him, his arm landing on her back, her head on his middle.

"No," she sighs. "I left when Roy got back from his sister's. Keeley seemed…eager to be alone with him."

He chuckles, pushing his hand through her hair. "Well, cheers to them."

She giggles a little bit, rubbing a hand along his side over his t-shirt. She relaxes against him – the loveliest blanket he's ever had the pleasure to be covered with.

"I like their kitty," she remarks and he smiles.

"She's a lil' firecracker," he says. "Cracks me up."

She rolls her head until her chin is planted on his chest to look up at him. Her eyes are a little wide, eyebrows tipped up.

"Can we get one?"

His smile grows as he tilts his head. He never would've taken her for a pet person.

"Sure," he says. He likes cats.

She almost scoffs, closing her eyes.

"Of course you're going to be that easy about it."

He chuckles. "Do you want me to argue with you about it?"

"No, but I thought it would take at least a little convincing," she says and he squints at her a little bit.

"Is that why you keep sending me cat stuff?"

She does scoff then, rolling her eyes. "Yes."

"Why?" he laughs. "What do you think I have against cats?"

"I don't know," she says, laying her head back down in exasperation.

And since when does she do sneaky?

He chuckles again, smoothing a hand over her hair.

"We'd have to go get some stuff," he muses. "But I remember Higgins saying he can't go to the pet store on Saturdays 'cause the shelter sets up with a bunch of kitties and he knows he'll go home with one. We could go then. Get the stuff and peek at the cats."

"I already have everything saved to order online," she mumbles and he laughs.

"You could've just said something, Rebecca."

"I was trying to sniff you out first," she says. "But you gave me nothing."

"I'm sorry," he chuckles. "What kinda kitty do you want?"

"A soft one. Sweet one. Not so crazy as Camilla."

"Alright," he says. "Kitten?"

"I would like a kitten, I think," she says, lifting her head again to look at him. "Start from scratch."

"Okay, then," he smiles. "Sounds like fun."

×××

He didn't know what he expected when she said she had stuff saved, but he really shouldn't be surprised. The things that arrive over the next couple days look like something straight out of a housecat's dreams. A water drinking fountain and several very soft beds, toys, dishes, food that now has a shelf in the fridge, and, good lord, the litter box.

He just laughs when she sets it on the kitchen island.

"It's automatic," she says, then lifts her hands, defending herself. "Do you want to do it? Because I don't."

He reads the side of the box, still grinning. "It connects to the WiFi?!”

"Oh, stop," she says. "Like I was going to skimp out on this."

"How much did this cost you?" he asks, looking up with a grin.

"What does that matter?" she says innocently.

"C’mon, tell me," he says.

"No."

He looks in the shipping box, spying an invoice and snatching it before she can stop him.

"Give me that–"

"Seven hundred pounds?!" he says, laughing. "Oh my God, Rebecca."

"Stop," she says, swiping the paper from him, smiling at his teasing.

"You know it's gonna poop in it right?"

"Exactly. And then neither of us has to touch it."

"Now I feel like we're not adopting a cat but selecting one lucky winner to come live a life of luxury and refinement."

She laughs, wrapping her arms around the box, giving him a haughty look.

"If you'll excuse me. I have a cat shitter to set up."

He chuckles, watching her go, but following after a few minutes to help her.

×××

"I was excited, but now I'm just sad," she remarks as they walk through the narrow room.

"Yeah," he laments. "Now I feel like adopting a nice round dozen or two."

"I think we'll have to start with one," she says, taking another step, giving the next cat its due attention. "Hello. Aren't you lovely?"

They wander through at a slow pace, having been told the kittens they have are at the far end of the room, but she stops at every cage, offering her fingers and compliments to each kitty.

They don't make it to the far end – he didn't really expect them to.

"Oh," Rebecca says, coming to a complete stop at a cage. "Oh, look at you."

The cat inside is a pale gray that fades into white at its paws and nose with long fur – not the longest they've seen, but longer than the shorthairs – curled up in the little bed in the corner.

"Oh, he's pretty," Ted says, stepping closer.

"How do you know it's a he?" she remarks, sticking her fingers into the cage, greeting the kitty. "Hello."

It lifts its head, peering at them with lovely gray blue eyes. He sticks his own fingers in, watching the cat take an interest, standing and stretching.

"Oh," Rebecca says sadly, and he turns to her, finding her reading the information card hooked on the cage.

"Hmm?"

"'My loving owner died and I had nowhere to go'," she reads aloud. "'I'm an affectionate, easygoing kitty that enjoys lots of lap time.'"

She turns to him with a frown, then to the cat as they both feel him rub himself along their fingers. Ted curls his fingers into his soft fur, turning back to Rebecca, finding her watching the kitty with a little heartbreak in her eyes.

"I like him," she says.

"I thought you wanted a kitten," he reminds her softly.

She doesn't respond, watching the little guy push his head against her knuckles. He steps around her, trading spots to read the rest of the card for himself.

"He's already ten years old," he says, sliding a hand over her back. He doesn't have a problem with it – he wouldn't mind an older cat, but she seemed set on a baby.

"I know," she says slowly, like she's realizing she's pretty much made up her mind. "But I think he deserves a nice retirement."

He smiles at her, watching the kitty sit close enough for Rebecca to brush her finger over the soft fur at his chest, primly adjusting his big white paws in front of him before curling his tail around. He peers at them, then lets out a soft little mow that has both of them chuckling.

"See, you agree, don't you?" she says. "You're a little sweetheart, huh? I didn't even look to see what your name is."

Ted looks, having skimmed over it too, smiling at what he finds. "Arthur."

"Arthur?" Rebecca chuckles.

"What a name, huh? Who picked up this little guy as a sweet little puffball of a kitten, looked at him on the most exciting day of his life and then gave him the most old man name possible? I'm so sorry, buddy."

"Oh, stop," she says, scratching at Arthur's chin as she reassures him. "I think it's a great name. And I don't think Theodore has any room to talk."

He laughs fully at that, hearing Rebecca chuckle with him. "Well, that's me told," he says, squeezing her side, pulling her attention as she turns. "Should we see if somebody will open his cage up so we can meet him?"

She nods, giving him a bright smile.

×××

Of course they brought old Art home. And it doesn't even take two days before they're both absolutely smitten.

He's taken to following them around curiously, as well as flopping and rolling against the shag rug in the living room. He'd been absolutely riveted by the dining room, chirping and chattering at the birds through the windows – to their endless amusement – and surveying the backyard as if it were new domain he's claimed.

He's just adorable. And quickly growing very comfortable here.

Clearly.

"Well, he didn't take long to settle in, did he?" he remarks.

Rebecca's laid out on the couch with Arthur stretched along her front, his head nestled against her chest, paws stretched toward her chin. He can hear the little guy purring from where he stands at the end of the couch as she strokes his fur from ears to tail, grinning with pure delight.

"And he found the best spot already."

She chuckles, bending her knees to make room for him to sit. Arthur lifts his head, eyes opening at being jostled.

"Oh, relax," she mutters. "We share with Ted, alright?"

She lays her legs over his thighs as he chuckles.

"I see you're having no trouble bonding with our new resident," he says as his arms stretches along the back of the sofa.

"Of course not," she almost coos, rubbing at Arthur's cheek. "And don't think I didn't see you carrying him around like a baby yesterday."

"Oh, c'mon. He was lookin' up at me and making the saddest little noise. And you know what, I ain't even gonna pretend I wouldn't die for him already."

She chuckles, holding Arthur's little face as he just purrs and purrs. "You hear that? You have Ted's eternal devotion."

"Christ, he looks more in love with you than I am," he muses.

She laughs at that, glancing up at him. "I'm pretty sure he's very happy to not be in that cage anymore."

Arthur stands at the disturbance, stretching his back before he traverses Rebecca's body to see what Ted has going on.

"I think you made a good choice, darlin'," he says to Rebecca as Arthur just stands on Ted's thighs, pressing up into his hand as he strokes him.

"I love him," she mutters.

He smiles as Arthur throws himself against Ted's abdomen, rolling in his lap.

"Me too."

×××

When she steps into the bedroom, she just has to grin.

Ted's lounging on the bed, scrolling his phone with Arthur cradled in his arm against his chest, dead asleep.

It's almost hilarious to think about now – that she was uncertain if he'd enjoy having a cat. More than half the times she comes upon him in the house, he's either holding or talking to Arthur. He carries him around like a little prince and he just purrs like a madman.

Maybe they didn't end up with a box of kittens, but it's still unbelievably cute. And she hates to disturb it, but, right now, she's going to.

She crawls up onto the bed, leaning on an elbow next to him.

"What's going on here?" she asks, scratching the top of Arthur's head, startling him if his little mrrp is anything to go by.

"He needed snuggled apparently," Ted says as he drops his phone next to him. "And I think I make a pretty good bed if I do say so myself."

"I can confirm," she nods. "But he might have to go."

Ted frowns at her, stroking Arthur's side almost protectively. "He's fine here."

"Okay, but what if I'm trying to have sex with you?" she asks, watching Ted's brows lift again.

"Ah, well, I think you're a little late," he says, gesturing to the cat. "I think I'm otherwise engaged for the evening."

She gives him a flat look, getting a little grin back.

"Arthur, buddy, I think you're in danger," he whispers to the cat, who has no reaction whatsoever. Ted shifts him to get him up and he just lifts his head and glares at him, dead weight against his chest.

"Oh, c'mon man, don't do this to me," Ted chuckles as Rebecca pantomimes looking at a watch. "Look at her. Be a little wingman here, huh?"

He's unenthused as Ted lifts him up and leans to put him on the floor.

"There," he says, immediately rolling into her until she's on her back, grinning up at him.

"I'm all yours," he mutters against her neck, his hands immediately bunching her shirt to get to her skin. "Though you might have to work out a schedule with the little man."

She snickers, pulling him down hard against her with a leg, sliding her hands against his back as she catches his lips with hers. She hums as he grinds against her, the little fever in her core telling her this probably isn't going to be especially leisurely–

They both freeze at the sound of the sheets rustling. They look towards the end of the bed, where Arthur's jumped back up, ears pinned back, feet braced against the duvet. Before either of them can say anything, he dives forward, chasing nothing, then does a fast loop before freezing again.

She can't help but snort when he looks back at them, eyes wild before he does another circle, then gets distracted with licking his leg.

"What is he doing?" Ted chuckles, then startles when Arthur spins and leaps at his toes.

"Oh, Jesus, man!"

She barks out a laugh as he jerks his foot away and she's in stitches as Arthur chases after it before finally doing another loop, leaping off the bed and sprinting out the door.

"What the hell–" Ted laughs, turning back to her as she catches her breath, pulling him against her again.

"He's not the forgiving kind apparently."

"Who wanted a cat again?" he asks, his grinning mouth falling to her jaw.

"I did," she laughs. "And it was so worth it."

#anon #tl drabbles #i wrote this a hundred years ago thinking i would add to it but i havent and i wont so be free!#also rereading this simultaneously made me sad and feel better about jasper :')

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