#2 idiots 1 brain cell

[ablugreedraws]

Estoy empezando a jugar lol, me gustan estos 2 tonotos.

[orengejoshi]

Are we going to see demenica and 505 soon

highly unlikely, I don't care for anything other than Flug. Black Hat a little bit too.

Miss Heed perhaps? but I don't see enough in any other characters yet.

Masterpost for request status on Flug-unrelated things

I feel like atp I barely care for the canon cartoon at all, I just have a very strong fixation on Flug. I should really mention that. I have given up trying to stay in-character and basically use him like my OC. I would LIKE to move on and not be in fandom spaces anymore but sadly my autism does not let me. my brain just refuses; kicking and screaming; to be interested in a single other thing on earth than Flug since nearly 8 years.

it's insanity.

I have no NOTP or disliked dynamic, I will consume anything. paperlizard is cute. but it's a combination of me not being interested enough and others also not being interested enough so I feel it is not worth it to make this content rn. the fandom is ultra turbo dead.

I don't want massive attention -godspeed I don't- but an artist that doesn't get any response is a demotivated one. I know no one who is interested (enough) in these characters.

I would never make fanart of those characters alone¹, I couldn't get my unmedicated ADHD to focus on smth my heart doesn't 110% want to do from pure passion. I take no commissions, I don't draw for money.

you can basically expect to see one and the same thing for a decade straight from me

if I draw them in the future it will be heavily Flug-focused. HEAVILY.

(¹one exception is if a close friend of mine suddenly wants to see one of them)

so that's basically all you need to know! I don't consider myself a member of this fandom anymore since months

[drgnbld]

been writing up a new carrd explaining my gmen lore so that's my juices gone for tonight. its absolutely doing my head in not being able to get anything done but I digress.

pokemon chats will be done tomorrow at work :)

[ilovolderman]

Movie Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Sam tries to gather proof of your secret relationship with Bucky during a movie night.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: humor, fluff, secret dating, sam losing his mind, one shared blanket

A/N: this can be read as a standalone even though it's part of a series called "You Said What". it doesn't necessarily follow a specific order, but if you want to check out the other parts, here they are: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9 thanks for reading, i hope you like it :)

Sam Wilson was back on his BS.

Not because he wanted to be. No. He had to be. This was about justice. About truth. About the undeniable, unquantifiable, deeply suspicious sense that you and Bucky Barnes were absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent... up to something.

He didn’t have hard evidence. He didn’t even have medium evidence. What he had was vibes.

And the vibes? They were criminal.

It all started on a Wednesday.

The group had planned a “Chill Movie Night.”

Sam arrived early, armed with snacks, a color-coded emotional tracking spreadsheet, and a high-end mood ring that Tony insisted was “useless but fun.”

Everything seemed normal. Steve was fluffing pillows like a dad trying to avoid confrontation. Peter was arguing with the popcorn machine. Natasha was already asleep on the couch. (Open-eyed, somehow. Very concerning.) Tony was making a cocktail out of four liquids that were definitely not FDA-approved.

And then you walked in.

Sam’s eye twitched.

Behind you, Bucky entered. Smirking. Carrying your favorite takeout like some kind of emotionally supportive boyfriend ninja.

“Hey, guys,” you said sweetly, flopping onto the couch. Bucky sat beside you, a respectable distance away.

Until Sam blinked.

And suddenly, somehow, your knees were touching.

EXHIBIT Q. KNEE TREASON.

Sam clutched his soda like it was the last thing anchoring him to reality.

The movie choice? A romcom. Obviously. The plot? Two idiots pretending not to be in love. The irony? Painful.

Sam watched you both. Not the movie. You giggled during the fake-dating scene. Bucky smirked.

Your eyes met for exactly 1.3 seconds. You looked away like your life depended on it.

Sam scribbled in his notes. Tony leaned in, whispering, “Are you actually watching the movie or doing telepathy?”

“I’m watching a conspiracy unfold in real time,” Sam whispered back. “...Of course you are.”

On screen, the protagonists shared a dramatic, rain-soaked kiss. On the couch, Bucky passed you a napkin. You took it without looking. No words. No thank you.

EXHIBIT R. EMPATHETIC NAPKIN TRANSFER.

Sam wrote “co-dependent, probably share a soul.” in his notes.

It got worse. At some point  Peter complained about the cold. Tony threatened to install a fireplace. Someone, probably Steve, bless his Midwestern heart, tossed a blanket over the couch. You grabbed one end. Bucky took the other.

Normal. Harmless. Unremarkable.

Until Sam realized there was only one blanket.

And two people under it.

A suspicious amount of shoulder contact was happening beneath that polyester monstrosity. Too much shared body heat. Too much calm.

Sam squinted. “Why are they always so synchronized?” Steve, confused: “Who?” Sam: “The blanket goblins.” Steve: “...Are you okay?” Sam: “NO.”

The movie played on in the background, but you and Bucky were no longer paying attention. Instead, you two were quietly leaning into each other, aware of Sam's eagle-eyed attention from across the room. The couch creaked as Bucky shifted slightly closer, his arm brushing against yours, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely.

"Do you think Sam's lost it yet?" you whispered, voice low, just enough for Bucky to hear.

Bucky grinned, but didn’t look away from the screen. "Oh, he’s spiraling. I can feel his brain cells popping one by one."

You let out a tiny snort, trying to hold back the giggle that was threatening to escape. “He's so obvious. He keeps glancing over every two seconds. Should we give him a little more to work with?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his lips curling in a barely contained smirk. “You want to really mess with him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should let him stew for a bit longer.” You shot a playful glance at Sam, who was practically glaring at you two from behind his soda. "He’s getting all worked up for nothing."

Bucky leaned in a little closer, his breath warm on your ear as he whispered, “Let’s make him regret not having a seat next to us.”

He shifted slightly, just enough that your knees brushed against each other. The small touch seemed so innocent to anyone else, but Sam’s narrowed eyes locked onto the subtle movement, his hand hovering over his notebook like a hawk waiting to strike.

Your lips quirked into a mischievous smile. You did your best to make it look like a completely natural movement as you accidentally rested your head against Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky, of course, played along beautifully, his arm casually draping over the back of the couch behind you, so close that your bodies were practically melting into each other.

“You okay?” he asked in the most nonchalant tone, but the teasing glint in his eyes was hard to miss.

You blinked, putting on your best innocent face. “Oh, yeah. Just—just—getting comfy.” Your hand brushed against his as you adjusted yourself, and you quickly squeezed his fingers once before letting them fall.

Your eyes flicked over to Sam, who was visibly straining to stay calm, his hand twitching over his notebook like it was a lifeline. You could practically hear his thoughts racing: This is it. This is definitely it. They're in on it.

You smiled sweetly, letting your voice drop to an exaggerated whisper. “I think I might be too comfortable.”

Bucky’s smirk widened, and before Sam could even react, he casually pulled his jacket sleeve over his hand, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and gently brushed his fingertips against your knee. The slightest contact. Barely a touch.

Sam’s eyes narrowed so sharply that it looked like his face might implode. He scribbled something aggressively in his notebook. You could almost hear the frantic ticking of his mental clock. *Evidence: They are physically close. Touch. Note: Is this normal?

You stifled a laugh, shifting just a little to let your body lean more into Bucky. “You know,” you said, voice syrupy sweet, “I could really get used to this.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, shifting just enough that his shoulder brushed against yours, and his hand accidentally found its way to your lower back. “Well, lucky for you,” he said with mock sincerity, “I’m just that kind of guy. Always happy to offer some… support.”

You grinned, fighting the urge to burst into laughter. Instead, you pressed your palm into his chest, just enough for the world to think it was a casual adjustment. But oh, you knew. You knew what was happening.

Sam was now glaring at you both with a level of intensity that could melt steel.

Bucky turned his head toward you, but just enough so Sam could definitely see. He made eye contact, and his lips curved into a teasing grin, one that said, I know you’re watching.

You raised your eyebrows in challenge and tilted your head as if asking, What are you going to do about it, Sam?

You caught a glimpse of his expression, then leaned closer to Bucky. “I swear he’s about to pull out a flowchart,” you whispered, lips curling into a mischievous grin.

Bucky bit back a laugh. “Let him. He’ll need it for all this groundbreaking evidence.”

Sam’s eye twitched.

You and Bucky both leaned back, relaxing into each other, casually oblivious to the total chaos you were unleashing. Sam sat back down, utterly defeated, furiously scribbling in his notebook. He couldn’t even look at the screen anymore.

Then, the movie ended. The lights came on. You yawned. Bucky stretched.

And Sam watched in horror as Bucky casually — casually! — helped you into your jacket like it was 1952 and you were going steady after a sock hop.

You whispered something to him. He grinned. Then you both said you were leaving at the same time, but separately.

Bucky went out the back. You left through the front.

Sam looked at Natasha.

“Did you see that?” She didn’t even open her eyes. “Nope.” “Lies.” “You need a nap.” “I need the TRUTH.”

Tony sipped his weird drink. “I give it another week before they start sharing shoes.”

Peter, from the kitchen: “Wait, do they not already?”

Sam screamed into the void.

Later that night the rooftop was quiet, blanketed in the soft hush of city sounds far below. A gentle breeze tugged at the edge of the blanket draped over your shoulders as you curled into your usual corner, legs tucked beneath you. Fairy lights flickered lazily overhead, casting warm glows over Bucky’s face as he joined you with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

He handed one “Cheers to another successful psychological operation,” you said, clinking the mugs.

“To Operation: Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlfriend,” Bucky replied solemnly, taking a sip. He immediately burned his tongue and winced.

You giggled, taking a much more careful sip. “You know Sam’s going to start cross-referencing our foot placement on the couch with moon phases, right?”

“Oh, definitely,” Bucky said. “I bet he’s already got a red string board with little thumbtacks that spell ‘LIES.’”

You leaned into him with a contented sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. “We are going to hell.”

“Matching outfits,” he said. “I already ordered the shirts.”

You burst into laughter, nearly spilling your drink. “Bucky.”

He just smiled, wide and soft and unguarded in the dim rooftop light, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side like you belonged there—and honestly, you did.

A beat of silence passed. The kind that wasn’t awkward. The kind that felt like a warm exhale, like a secret just between the two of you.

You smiled into your mug, letting the words settle. The city shimmered below you. The stars above blinked like they were in on the secret too.

“I like it up here,” you murmured.

“I like you up here,” Bucky replied, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, right at your temple, like he was memorizing the shape of your joy.

You turned your face toward him, bumping noses a little in that silly, clumsy way that always made him smile. “You’re being very sweet. Should I be worried?”

He shrugged. “Just making sure you know.”

“That you like me?”

“That I’m crazy about you,” he said, and then, quieter: “Even when you’re fake flirting with me to drive Sam to madness.”

You grinned. “Oh, babe. That’s not fake.”

Bucky blinked, then broke into a grin so dopey and full of love it made your chest ache.

You clinked your mugs together again, just because.

Meanwhile Sam was crouched on the roof of a building, squinting through a comically long-lensed pair of binoculars that Tony swore were “state-of-the-art.”

They were not.

They were the opposite of helpful.

They had a cracked lens, fog on the inside, and occasionally made a sad whining sound like they missed retirement.

Still, Sam stared across the distance with the desperate determination of a man on the brink.

Through the foggy lens, he saw… two tiny blobs.

Two indistinct, cozy-looking blobs huddled on the rooftop of Avengers Tower, gently illuminated by twinkle lights that only added insult to injury.

He couldn’t see their faces. He couldn’t read lips. He couldn’t tell which blob was Bucky and which was you.

“Come on, do something,” Sam muttered, adjusting the focus knob. Nothing changed. He flipped it the other way. The blobs got blurrier.

He smacked the side of the binoculars.

They shut off.

He swore loudly and rebooted them.

Inside his earpiece, FRIDAY chimed in, unbothered: “Would you like me to send a drone for closer surveillance?”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “No. That’s what they want. Then they’ll know I’m watching.”

“They already know you’re watching.”

“I have to catch them, FRIDAY. Not just feel it in my soul.”

Another blob shifted.

Sam gasped. “Movement. MOVEMENT.” He turned the dial again. Still nothing but murky shadow-people. “Are they... hugging? Is that a hug? Or... is one of them standing up? Oh my god, is Bucky proposing?!”

A long pause. Then, FRIDAY dryly: “Sir. They are literally just drinking cocoa.”

Sam groaned and flopped backward onto the gravel roof, his limbs starfished dramatically like a war hero brought low by cuddle-based crimes.

“This is torture,” he moaned. “I’m three buildings away, I’ve got frostbite on my kneecaps, and I’m watching two potato blobs make suspiciously synchronized cocoa movements.”

“Shall I remind you,” FRIDAY said gently, “that you volunteered for this?”

“I VOLUNTEERED FOR TRUTH. AND JUSTICE. AND—” Sam sat up suddenly. “Wait. Are they... did that blob just touch the other blob’s blob-arm?”

“I have no idea, sir.”

“Oh god,” he whispered. “They’re holding hands. I feel it.”

“Or one of them is adjusting a blanket.”

Sam made a noise like a teakettle dying. “It’s the vibes, FRIDAY. I am being spiritually attacked.”

A car honked below. Sam yelped and dropped the binoculars. They hit the ground, bounced once, and rolled off the edge of the building with a dramatic clatter that absolutely ruined the "stealth" part of the mission.

Sam stared at the edge.

Then at the sky.

Then at his empty hands.

“FRIDAY, I’ve lost visual.”

There was a beat.

“Sir, you never had it.”

Back at Avengers Tower, on the actual rooftop you snuggled closer to Bucky, sipping your hot chocolate, utterly unaware of the storm raging in a man's soul several rooftops away.

Actually, no—you were very aware.

You nudged Bucky. “Wanna bet where Sam is right now trying to spy on us?”

Bucky grinned. “Roof of that tall brick building with the busted vent.”

You blinked. “How do you know?”

“I waved at him like ten minutes ago.”

next part

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[whatifitis]

♡ to build a home - LN 4 ♡

Summary: You're beginning to build a life with Lando. One of the steps you were excited for the most was building a home with him. So when it's time to finally start furnishing the house... let's just say we're glad everyone got to keep their fingers.

WC: 950

CW: fluff, two idiots in love trying to use their shared braincell..., not proofread

-=+=-

It’s finally time! A chapter in your life you were waiting for for so long. Not just building a life with your favorite person, but building a home with them too. You and Lando recently bought a home together and were excited to finally decorate it after having renovated it yourselves. 

The two of you (mainly just you) spent ages on pinterest and various furniture websites, trying to put together an aesthetically pleasing home that could also make the environment feel homey and warm, something Lando had lived without for so long, well, at least until you joined his life. From the day you’d met, his life suddenly seemed brighter and warmer, like he’d been living in a plain, grey world prior. 

After some conflicts and adjustments to the mood board, you both had settled on some furniture that you both loved. Some things were ordered to the house while the others were picked up in the store by you and Lando. Lando, of course, insisted on helping because 1. It could be some nice bonding time since he’s away a lot and 2. He’s a “Big strong man” who can help you carry everything… In other words, he was afraid another man would come to your rescue and steal you away. But that would never happen. 

As you awaited everything you’d ordered, your home still only held a mattress, Lando’s gaming set up and boxes that were filled with various objects. One of those boxes held your collection of books. Your collection grew through the years as you got older, the collection expanding a lot quicker since you and Lan had started dating. Everytime he traveled without you, he would stop by a bookstore and get you a book. Whether it be a special edition of a book or just something he thought you’d like, he always came back with one to add to your collection. 

“Baby.” Lando called to you, jumping onto the mattress where you laid. 

“Baby.” you reply. 

“I was thinking-”

Sitting up fast and gasping, “You can do that?”

Lando’s jaw dropped, “Rude?! You know what? Nevermind.” begins to stand up to walk away, hiding a smile. 

“No! Come on, baby. I was joking. Tell me what you were thinking.” you say, pulling his arm so that he falls over top of you on the bed. 

“Fine. Only cause I love you so much.” the man says, receiving several kisses from you that scatter his face. 

“I love you too. Now, tell me.”

“Do you wanna go to ikea? I know we ordered most of the furniture or we’re going to some stores in person but we need to get some bookshelves for your books. We can get to building them today and putting away the books.” he says, moving to stand, “That way we can clear a few boxes and we’ll have more room for activities.” he says as he pranced around the room, twirling in the air as if he was a dancer. 

You laugh at the show before you, being eternally grateful for his existence and the chaos he brings with him, “That sounds amazing, Lan. We can go now. That way we’re not up late trying to put together the bookshelves.” 

“How hard can putting together bookshelves be?”

-=+=-

Lando and you took the opportunity to enjoy the day to the fullest. The sun was out so you guys drove with the windows down, blasting some Taylor Swift and singing your hearts out to each other. 

Although the drive was fun, the same can’t be said for the adventure in Ikea… The two of you got lost for 5 hours inside of the Ikea. And don’t ask how, cause not even God knows how the two of you got lost, though it might have to do with the fact that you guys share a brain cell…

Eventually, with the help of an Ikea employee, the two of you made it out to the other side, half tempted to kiss the ground once you saw the sun again. 

-=+=-

Finally, after a stop at Mcdonalds for some dinner, the two of you were safe and sound at home, cutting open the boxes that contained the pieces of wood to build the bookshelves. As Lando was unboxing the pieces, he began throwing things about, not paying any mind to what was going where. 

“Lan, calm down. We’re gonna lose the instructions if you keep doing that.” 

“Pish posh. Who needs instructions for bookshelves? It’s easy. I built that desk myself with no instructions.” he says, pointing to the desk that holds his gaming set up… the most basic table to have ever existed. 

You put your hands on your hips as you exhale loudly, “Lan, that table has 5 pieces total…”

“And? I still did it. Ya know why? Cause I’m super smart and super strong. I don’t need the instructions… Now… where do we start…?” he says as he rests his hands on his hips, squinting as the mess of screws and panels of wood he scattered on the floor. 

-=+=-

Building a bookshelf was NOT as easy and Lando claimed it would be. Not only were the instructions missing, but Lando kept insisting he didn’t need them. You tried to help him but it felt as if the pieces kept moving on their own. You felt like the boys in the Maze Runner, trying to figure out the pattern of the maze changes every night. 

It’s been two hours since anyones spoken… so it startles you when he breaks the silence, “How… is the bookshelf… inside out…?”

“It’s 9pm… and we still haven’t finished the first bookshelf… we have 6 more to build…”

“FUCK”

[ace-of-zaun]

Kiss Me More. pt 2:

silco x f!reader - 1.8k words - SFW

series summary: “Whatever, all I’m saying is, I can teach you how to kiss,” Silco insists, before adding just a little too nonchalantly, “You know, if you want to.”

cw: first dates, jealous silco, silco is a little shit, silco causing problems on purpose, mild angst, mild sexual references, fluff, friends to lovers, young silco

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4

-

One agonising, excruciatingly long week later and neither you nor Silco have mentioned the kiss again. In fact, Silco has been so weird, (well, weirder than he normally is anyhow) that you’re genuinely starting to worry you accidentally damaged some of his brain cells when you pulled on his hair. 

He holds himself all weirdly now, like he’s forgotten how sitting or standing works. And he stares and stares and stares at you, and then scowls when you look back or ask him what’s wrong. 

You even catch him just standing staring at your bedroom door one day, smack bang in the middle of the corridor, but when you question what he’s doing he just grunts at you and slams into his own bedroom, the tips of his ears flushed crimson.

This, frankly unhinged, behaviour continues right up until you’re leaving for your date with Seven. 

Vander, the wonderful, had said you looked lovely, and Silco, the prat, had just scowled at your outfit and crossed his arms in a huff.

Not wanting to spend the whole of your first ever date giving a rage-fuelled rant about your idiot best friend, you’d taken a deep breath and magnanimously chosen to just roll your eyes at him, instead of picking a fight. 

You can get him back later by unpicking the seams of his favourite shirt, anyway. That’ll show him. 

But as you’d looked over your shoulder to say goodbye to the boys, fingertips hanging loosely off the door handle, you’d caught Silco surreptitiously looking you up and down with a surprisingly soft look on his face. 

It had thrown you for a bit of a loop, the little motion and facial expression re-playing in your head over and over again as you’d walked through the streets of Zaun…

But then there’s no time to think of it anymore because you’re suddenly on your date with Seven - who you think you like. It’s a bit difficult to tell, honestly. 

The date goes well (you guess, you’ve never been on one before, so there’s nothing to really compare it to). He’d taken you to dinner at one of the local food stalls because the restaurants on The Promenade are far, far too expensive, but at least the food had been familiar. 

Plus, it was way nicer than any of Sil’s burnt, home-made meals… Probably. (Okay, maybe you’ve grown a little bit fond of them after all this time.)

You and Seven had talked for most of the date. And you’d gotten to know each other a little bit better. Well, you’d got to know Seven better; you didn’t really get much of a chance to talk about yourself, in between his monologues. 

And sure, you didn’t kiss, but he did hold your hand on the way home. 

Now, as you reach your apartment building, Seven insists on walking you up to your flat, even gesturing for you to climb the stairs before him with a sweep of his arm. And when you finally arrive outside your apartment door, he turns to you with a strange, smug look on his face. 

“Well, I suppose this brings an end to our evening,” he says, voice dropping in a way that you assume is meant to be seductive, but honestly just makes him sound like he needs a cough drop. “But there is one more thing I want to do before I leave.”

Before you even have a chance to respond, Seven is backing you up against the door, arms slithering around you until they rest low around your waist (a little too low if you’re being honest). An uncomfortable feeling settles in your chest but then he’s leaning down and lining his lips up with yours and-

Shit, this is it. He’s going to kiss you. 

You heave a sharp intake of breath and desperately try to remember everything Silco had told you during your little practice session, but it’s currently quite difficult to think properly when your heart is drumming in your chest and your hands are shaking. 

Of course, thinking about Silco must summon him because instead of feeling the sensation of lips on lips, you’re suddenly experiencing the sensation of falling, as the door opens behind you. 

Without the solid, wooden surface holding your upper back in place, you tip backwards with a squeal, only saved from falling flat on your arse by Seven tightening his arms around you and setting you back on your feet. 

Instantly, you want his suffocating arms off of you, so you subtly shove him away as you turn to face the culprit of the opening door. 

“Silco!”

“Hey, you’re back,” he announces, a little too casually. It doesn’t match his bizarre, half-amused, half-something-else expression at all. Or the death grip he has on the door frame. “Great, we need to change the bed sheets.” 

You almost sputter at the choice of phrasing. Not his bed sheets, the bed sheets, like there’s only one bed in the apartment, and needing to change them implies…

Before you can clarify, because you don’t want your date getting the wrong idea, Silco turns to look at Seven, eyes narrowing dangerously. 

Uh, oh. You know that look. That’s his ‘I’m going to make your life a fucking misery’ look. 

“Oh, who’s your little friend?” Silco asks, voice deceptively sweet. 

“Seven,” he responds, holding a hand out for Sil to shake, which he promptly ignores. “And you are?”

“Really, very busy right now, so if you’ll just excuse us.” Silco dismisses him, resting one hand on the small of your back as he tries to herd you through the doorway and into the flat. 

You squirm out of his grasp, annoyance levels rising until they’re practically reaching Piltover. 

“Silco, just get the stuff out the airing cupboard and I’ll be with you in a min-"

“It’s okay, baby girl, I’d best be going anyway.” Seven interrupts you, stepping even closer to you. His voice does that stuffy, flu thing again, and he acts like he’s speaking only to you, but it’s definitely loud enough for Silco to hear. “I had a great time this evening.”

“Me too.” You smile at him with tight lips, despite it being a bit of a lie. It just feels like it’s something you’re supposed to say at the end of a date. 

“I’d love to do it again sometime,” he continues, voice taking on an overly suggestive tone. “I’ll see you at the shop? We can arrange another date… maybe some late night swimming?”

You feel your face heat up at the thought, and it certainly doesn’t help that Silco is a foot away, burning a hole into the side of your skull. 

Janna, you really hope Seven doesn’t try to kiss you again in front of Sil, you think you might die of embarrassment. You pretend to scratch at your nose, subtly covering your mouth, just in case he tries again. 

“Uh, I'll see you later,” you say noncommittally. “Goodnight, Seven.”

Except, it doesn’t seem to work because he just grabs the hand covering your face and brings it up to his lips, pressing a rough kiss against your fingers. It’s an effort not to squirm. 

“Goodnight, princess,” he drawls, winking when you just stare at him.

Then, he finally notices the intense death stare Silco is sending his way, dropping your hand to shoot daggers back at your best friend before turning on his heel and sauntering down the stairs. 

With Seven gone, a weird sense of relief floods through you, but it quickly dissipates, leaving you with nothing but the urge to smack Silco round the back of his stupidly beautiful head. You don’t, though. 

Instead, you march back inside the flat, hackles raised as Silco closes the door behind you and leans back on it. He dusts his hands off with two wide sweeps up and down like the dramatic idiot he is. 

“And good riddance.”

Slowly, you turn to face him fully, carefully watching his eyes widen slightly in mild alarm. 

“What the hell was that?”

“What?” he asks, really, genuinely confused. 

You could throttle him. 

“That!” 

“I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean,” Silco replies. 

“You were so rude to him!” you explode. “And you…” 

You want to say that he implied that the two of you share a bed, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Hell, you know your cheeks are absolutely burning at just the thought of it. (And not even just the usual things you think of when sharing a bed with someone, but even just the thought of waking up next to him, seeing him when he’s all relaxed and soft in the morning. It hurts to even picture it.)

“Yeah, well, I don’t like him.” Silco interrupts your runaway daydream. 

“Why? You don't even know him!” you protest. 

“I just don’t like the look of him.”

“Silco!" 

“What? I don’t think he’s right for you. I mean, did you hear him? I had a lovely evening, princess, why don’t we go skinny dipping for our next date, doll.” The mocking accent he puts on is far from flattering. “Ugh, what a slimeball.”

“He doesn’t even sound like that!” You don’t know why you even bother protesting, he’s clearly on a roll. 

“And what kind of a name is Seven, anyway? Do you think his parents hated him too? Do you think that’s why he’s such a prick?”

You sigh heavily. 

“I’m going to bed,” you announce, turning away from him to walk through the living room and towards your bedroom. 

Except you don’t get very far because Silco catches your hand and gently pulls you back to him, until you’re stood holding hands in the middle of the room. 

“Wait, I actually need your help making my bed,” he says, face and voice melting into something genuine (and irritatingly endearing). 

But not endearing enough after all the shit he’s been putting you through this last week. 

You pull your fingers out of his grip and slap at his hand when he tries to grab them again. 

“Get Vander to do it,” you snap, perhaps a little too harshly. 

“But he’s still at work!” He’s borderline pleading now. 

“Well, you’ll just have to sleep in dirty sheets then, won’t you?” You say, muttering a sardonic little, “Twat,” under your breath as you finally walk away. 

Predictably, Silco is in a massive sulk for a ridiculous amount of time after that.

He doesn’t even stop when you finally offer to help him change his bed sheets, watching him messily tucking the corners of the bed sheets under his threadbare mattress in silence, until you bat his hands away and show him how to do it properly (honestly, the boy is useless without you). 

By the end of the week, you decide that you just don’t understand him and probably never will. (It still doesn’t stop you from thinking about him every second of every day, though.)

-

PART 3

-

super secret taglist: @oceansssblue @inolaphoenix @holographicgarden

[27spoons]

thoughts on nat with a gf that's like WAYYY freakier than her? i just feel like it would be so funny when she finds out because i can just imagine she's like "i didn't think this was possible what the fuck" 😭

okay so i dont think nat is freaky until she starts trying..... like at first i wouldn't say she's "vanilla" but she def isn't that crazy... maybe some impact play and overstim but nothing insane

the first time you go "alright, should we set some ground rules?" nat goes "what" cus 1) no one has ever said that to her before, 2) wdym GROUND RULES what are we DOING, and 3) ....what are we doing...

nat has NO clue what half of the kinks you list off are. she just goes "uh-huh" and "yep" but it doesn't fully click until yall are like DOING it

like she's all smirks and talking shit until you open up your backpack and you have..... like.... four different types of rope, a blindfold, a gag, and a fucking 'aftercare kit' aujinbguiadhguiagh

"what do you mean pick which texture i like best?" "well, it's gonna be pretty tight around your limbs. so which ever one you think is most comfortable--" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN AROUND MY 'LIMBS'?"

you try and tell her what half of the stuff you have/are talking about is called but it goes in one ear and out the other (has to google "shibari for idiots") (spells it like "sheebary")

anyways. yall get freaky ONCE with stuff that isn't vanilla and nat's confidence is thru the ROOF. then ur like "so have you ever heard of blood play?" and she just. short circuits.

bonus: stuff nat will do

have a stroke when you say you need time to "set stuff up" (WDYM WE CANT JUST FUCK???? SET UP????)

take a water break 10 minutes in, pretending she's just "giving you a chance to catch your breath" or smth (she had to google something she got confused)

have a minor crisis when she realises she's into something that she would have been normally so opposed to (you talked her down from a panic attack after she realised she thought knife play was hot)

accidentally hurt you/herself and feel so fucking bad about it for WEEKS (she probably choked you too hard or smth. you have to explain to her that it's fine and that's why you have safewords and shit but she just feels like an asshole for hurting you)

forget to untie you/remove the gag after you're the one that gets restrained and takes a shower and leaves you there aiuhfhaduihhgag (SHE WAS HIGH SHE HAD TWO BRAIN CELLS OK!!)

lowkey gets addicted to being in subspace. i think we forget she has an addictive personality sometimes. the fact that you can fuck her and put her into this space where she doesn't have to think/feel? yeah. yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

[thankssaragorn]

oddly specific and incoherent howling commandos headcanons:

ages: hugely important for vibes here. mcu wiki does technically have ages for them but not all of them are real to me. to me, steve and bucky and peggy and gabe are like in their mid-20s and the rest of them are 30s and 40s.

gabe and morita are dummy smart like went back home after the war and got phds smart. they also worked on all of the civil rights movements.

^ just because morita is dummy smart does not mean that he carries brain cells.

morita-dugan-dernier get into jackass level hooliganry. its the combo of 'morita machine smart' and 'dernier explosives smart' and 'dugan down to clown'.

like technically steve is in charge but i think theyve got more of a community thing going on esp when it comes to day to day life. steve makes the battle plans and reports to the brass but everything else is a group effort because they're family.

bucky has that annoying big brother energy he's like messing with people and repeating the same phrases and singing all the time.

bucky and steve together are super annoying because they can communicate without speaking and everything they say is an inside joke and they have no idea how to interact socially with anybody but each other.

^^ when peggy is around this is worse. the three of them are insane and should never be put in charge of anything ever.

morita is full of rage (as he should be). dugan regularly exploits this.

dugan and bucky are bffls - if they were grade school students in the 2010s they'd exchange silly bandz and pass notes via paper airplane. i have no textual evidence to back this up other than that i believe it's true.

dernier can understand and speak english fine but he thinks its a stupid language so he makes them all learn french in order to communicate with him.

monty and steve have a similar vibe as dugan and bucky but like not as grimy and rowdy bc their personalities are different. but like monty is steve's no 2 after bucky and they do "high brow shit" like talk about art and books and political theory and nerd things.

^ in this similar vein, steve and gabe have a similar vibe as steve and natasha. idk how else to elaborate on this i just feel its true. gabe holds a large percentage of the group's overall brain cell, and he's clever and has a dry humor and when steve comes to him saying "i want to try this" he shrugs and says okay.

gabe is jacked asf cuz he carries the machine gun around like he's super strong, he and steve regularly exploits this.

dugan is like so indiana jones about his hat and they're all so annoyed about it. howard bulks it up though, makes it sturdier in case it gets shot. it's dugan's pride and joy.

james howlett (wolverine) joined up with them for one (1) mission and.....never again. don't ask what happened, just, never again.

^^ this becomes hilarious in like 2015

peggy went on a few missions with them but that got shut down real quick. it's not that they weren't successful, but the peggy-steve-bucky Circle of Stupidity (TM) makes the howlies drop productivity by at least 25% so they unionized and said no more sorry we love her but when she's here you three act like dumb idiots.

when steve goes on the azzano mission with peggy and howard, colonel phillips is like "i did not make it through the great war just to be put in charge of the stupidest idiots in the allied powers" and then when steve comes back and puts the howlies together, phillips gives up. he tries to resign, eisenhower wont let him.

the thing about peggy-steve-bucky is that all three of them think they're the level headed rational one of the group and all three of them are wrong.

[penguin-with-its-arse-on-fire]

The Council of Idiots

There. I colored it. Now watch Yonderland OR ELSE. (Also put suggestions for doodles of the whimsical nightmare of a show in the tags and I'll try to get around to em!)

AND SINCE YOU PEOPLE LIKED EM THE FIRST TIME ROUND, THE GAY-SCALE OF THE ELDERS:

1. Wise Elder Vex - The gayest gay to ever gay. You can't spell "Very Homosexual" without Vex (it's in there somewhere). MLM / WLW besties with Ho-Tan

2. Scribe Elder Ho-Tan - Our beloved trans lesbian queen and the holder of the sacred brain cell (when the other girlboss Dehbeh isn't around).

3. Vice-Elder Flowers - Will steal your gender and your ass at any given moment (consensually of course). Raging pansexual, nonbinary nightmare.

4. Lord Elder Pressley - When he's not drunk or excessively styling his sideburns, he's both men and women's problem. Bisexual burnout.

5. Chief Elder Choop - Overly flirtatious aroace (compensating. I mean, look at that hair). Still likes pictures of hot crones though. Understandable.

6. Trevor the Blob - Homophobic Got his gender stolen by Flowers, so now is rendered agender due to unforeseen circumstances. Rest in peace.

The world's dumbest Gay-Lesbian duo.

Under the cut is ONLY for the Chosen One

✨Dehbeh✨

[astriddestelle]

In light of discovering I’ve been a friends to lover girlie this whole time. Here’s are my top ten friends to lovers of all time canon and non canon.

1. The ship that started it all admittedly I liked Raven more so I shipped her with Robin, but my god Robin and Starfire were cute a whole ass ship I didn’t even realize I was shipping until they kissed in the movie and I was squealing like well I was a kid lol. My favorite episode aside from the Raven ones were always the ones focused on their relationship. Stranded was chefs kiss. I’m not a girl I’m not your friend. Date with Destiny had me gagged. Sisters the arm reach as she’s kidnapped beautiful. No other couple will compare.

2. God when this was airing what a time to be fucking alive. I was so obsessed with this ship. My first fanfic ideas were about this ship. I used to roleplay this show at school. They were so fucking messy with their just friends bullshit. Just friends my ass. I used to watch episode 22 routine on repeat and yes I have it memorized they almost kissed then spent the rest of series pretending they weren’t down bad for each other. They never actually made it official either which will forever haunt me to this day.

3. This one crept on me. I didn’t realize I shipped it until I shipped it and there was no going back. I mean come on. The look of love is literally their theme song. What do you mean Langa only likes skateboarding when Reki is there to watch and cheer him on. What do you mean Reki is afraid of Langa getting hurt not himself but Langa. Cindereki need I say more. The most casual friends to lovers cause they don’t even realize till the end. I went to skate infinitely with you who says stuff like that to someone they’re just friends with. How they adopt each others love languages through your the show. Ugh.

4. Alright imma be honest. This one started as me just wanting to read more Itadori fics but my god. If gege wasn’t a coward they would’ve been official (jk mostly) but Megumi only wanting to live a domestic life with Yuji, regaining the will to live after Yuji says he misses him, not having a reason for saving him not wanting him to die, start by saving me itadori…yeah. And itadori never giving up saving fushiguro, first words out of his mouth are always fushiguro, tells Sukuna to give fushiguro back. I mean how could I not.

5. Might be too early for me to be adding them to this list but so far Momo and Okarun have all the makings of being just as great as Robin and Starfire if not better. Two idiots sharing one brain cell the way they actually communicate with each other, Okarun getting salty when people insult his wifey, Momo getting jealous when people flirt with her husband. Okarun straight up telling Momo he can’t read her mind but he cares about her and values her friendship. Momo straight up saying she wants to talk to Okarun and loves hanging out with him. I’m into deep and it’s only been nine episodes. First time I’ve been this invested in a straight ship in years.

6. Back to the classics with this one. And I’m lowkey starting to sense a pattern. Cause why do they all involve redheads in some way and do I have a type? (yes) Kim and Ron are the original boss wife/fail husband. They’re so cute cause if you rewatch the series there’s all these little hints that they always liked each other (it took you 12 stinking years to kiss me) (I mean me and Kim sure everyone expects it but) but like didn’t wanna ruin their friendship fucking cute as hell idk if it was intentional on the writers part but yeah

7. Gwen and Geoff from Total Drama Island. They had one episode together and I was a goner. Idk I just love my sun and moon motifs as yall can clearly see. Something about the black cat golden retriever dynamic just tickles me I guess. I know yall see the potential. I rewrote total drama island just to get them to together it was bad

8. Harry and Luna from HP. Idc he shoulda been with her and not Ginny. No shade to Ginny but I just feel like they would’ve been such a great couple. Harry with someone who understands him and will never make him feel like he needs to live up to the savior role and Luna with someone who will never judge her for being different or odd. Sigh. So much wasted potential. So stinking cute oddly doesn’t exist as much anymore sigh.

9. Birdflash. I will not deny a huge part of this stems from really liking Wally West and that’s pretty much it. And I wanted more fics about him. I did not like Artemis at all, no one else shipped him with Zatanna or Rocket or Batgirl or Megan so Robin it was lol. But I mean I’ve been eating since so I can’t complain.

10. Ok while I don’t like this ship anymore I can’t deny I was obsessed with it for a hot minute. Danny/Sam from Danny phantom so much freaking potential and actually really cute from 10 year old me’s pov too bad they don’t hold up as an adult. I was very much obsessed with goths as a kid huh.

Honorary mentions

Adrien/Marinette: I haven’t seen enough of this show to put em in my top ten but my god is it cute af sometimes I just need to cute sunshine’s falling in love that is all. I’ve seen enough to know I’m rooting for both of em. A

Jade/Andre: I was obsessed with the episode he had a crush on her. Also in canon he’s the only one she calls a friend, they have lunch dates, she isn’t ever mean to him not as mean as she is to everyone else. I think it’s be cute af alright. Plus Andre wouldn’t flirt with other girls and make her jealous

Tododeku idk yall I just think they’d be cute af together not much else say. Same goes for Mina and Bakugo. Idk I just like em.

Sheen/Libby very refreshing to see a black girl get a love interest and not be discarded later. Sigh too bad that hasn’t happened since like 2006

can also throw on numbuh one and numbuh five from kids next door for similar reasons above. As well as numbuh two and numbuh five

[buddierecs]

outsider pov buddie fics

there isn't as many outsider pov fics under the mature and explicit tags that i know of/read, so i have added them together. the last two on the list are explicit as stated below :) another thing to mention is that some of these aren't completely outsider pov, for some of them they do have buck/eddie povs make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

bobby versus buddie by: songbvrd "five times bobby tried to gently hold buddie's hands and tell them they were in love, and one time they got the picture." word count: 10k important tags: bobby nash pov, gay!eddie diaz, idiots in love, mutual pining i'm holding on (barely) (this has a pt 2 with a christopher pov) by: cranberrymoons "eddie and buck take christopher home to california; helena and ramon decide to follow" word count: 12k important tags: both eddie and helena pov, parenthood, coming out, therapy, mother-son relationships, healing just to love you by: woodchoc_magnum "in which drunken confessions are made, feelings are confused, and maddie can't help but do a little bit of big-sisterly meddling." word count: 37k important tags: has buck/eddie pov but also 118 team, getting together, secret relationship, soft!buddie, meddling platonic co-parents don't kiss like we do by: thelikeofus "5 times other people see buck and eddie kiss + 1 time they really mean it." word count: 7.1k important tags: 5+1 things, soft!buddie, getting together, fluff, supportive 118, pda

friday (never hesitates) by: pansys_goth_gf "natalia spends the day at buck’s loft and becomes increasingly more aware that he already has a partner." word count: 5.8k important tags: natalia dollenmeyer pov, feelings realisation, didn't know they were dating brand new (full throttle) by: ofthedirewolves "5 times the 118 missed the obvious signs that buck and eddie were dating and the one time they didn't." word count: 6.7k important tags: 5+1 things, 118 crew pov, oblivous 118 crew ---- these last two are explicit, also like to point out that they aren't completely outsider pov, buck and eddie do have a pov in them as well! good pretender by: likeshipsonthesea "an au where buck broke up with taylor before 5b, ravi and buck become (actually platonic) friends with benefits, and ravi, eddie, and buck all go on a journey of self-discovery that ends with them all getting what they need" word count: 85k important tags: has ravi panikkar pov but only for first chap, friends with benefits (buck/ravi), team as family, therapy, friends to lovers, jealous!eddie diaz, mutual pining, explicit sexual content

ours to keep by: brewrosemilk "buck and eddie pass their single, shared brain-cell back and forth, trying to keep their relationship a secret." word count: 8.9k rating: explicit important tags: the last section of fic is chimney pov, secret relationship, crack treated seriously, blow jobs, porn with feelings

[yaoigremlin]

Hi! If you don't mind, can I ask something?

a.) Please write your top 3 or top 5 favorite tropes in BL. From each trope, write at least 3 BL that you love.

b.) Who are your top 5 (or top 3) favorite top & bottom characters from any BL media (can be manga/manhwa/danmei/manhua)? The top and bottom don't have to be from the same BL...

Thanks if you want to answer ... 🤩

Hi!! Thank you for the ask! This one was pretty tough! As you'll see, I opted for five rather than three because I need as many choices as possible. Still, it seems no matter what, I'm forced to leave off BLs and characters that I love because there are so many good ones. No danmei to list at this time as I am only recently starting my danmei journey.

Part 1: BL Tropes

Idiots Falling in Love: It’s best when the characters share one brain cell between them but I will gladly accept one lovable himbo paired with a more intelligent and reserved character.

Red Thread Quest by soop2rang - Unsleep by Hyeonoe - Ask and You Will Receive by Niyama - Paws & Claws by Ilju/Duhaem/Marin Code - Scent and Sensibility by Lily

Forbidden/Tragic Love: I tend to enjoy this trope within a historical setting the most since I find that the angst hits a lot harder. Bonus points if there is a revenge plot.

Painter of the Night by Byeonduck - Steel Under Silk by snob - Coyote by Ranmaru Zariya - The Ghost's Nocturne by ANANAS/C.R Jade - Toxin by Doroh/Nunnu/Mechanist

Something Strange is Going On! Supernatural/Otherworldly: Pair this with lots of banter and/or comedic moments and I'm sold. Bonus points if there is an investigation/mystery aspect.

It's Just a Dream...Right?! by White Eared - Love in Orbit by LattePanda - Dreadful Night by moan - Love at First Fright by nangjun/duzza/kouzaki palace - Dreaming of the Dokkaebi by LAPIS

Forced Proximity via Neighbors/Roommates: I have no real preferences for this one. I enjoy a lot of different dynamics here.

The Metalhead Next Door by Mamita - Our Sunny Days by Jeong Seokchan - Can't Think Straight by PANGIN/Hudadak - Virtual Strangers by ANGELA/B_jak/HoneyTrap - How to Deal When Your Intimidating Neighbor is Actually an Omega by Nikuya Inui

Age Gap: Lately I've been especially enjoying the Younger Top x Older Bottom dynamic just because I think this pairing is very cute. It's in three out of my five picks.

A First of Summers by Pppanghouse - My Sadistic Master by Seo byeol/Haseo - 10 Things I Want to Do Before I Turn 40 by Mamita - Gig of the Day by Danbi - Koi ga Ochitara by Ueda Aki

Part 2: BL Characters

It felt like an impossible task to choose only five each so I cheated and chose five that I love based on their personality and five that I love based on their overall aesthetic. It helped me finally narrow it down enough to make this list.

Top 5 BL Tops (Personality): These are all comfort characters for me, especially Jigu who is my absolute favorite boyfailure. Honorable mention for Dooshik from Pearl Boy (Inking) who lost the battle for the fourth spot to Taeju.

Tae-oh from Scent and Sensibility - Yeoreum from A First of Summers - Jigu from Virtual Strangers - Taeju from Low Tide in Twilight by euja - Chi-young from Paws & Claws

Top 5 BL Bottoms (Personality): Another set of comfort characters. They are all lovely, especially Sung Ho who is actually perfect. Another honorable mention, this time for Jooha from Pearl Boy, who lost the battle for the fifth spot to Euihyun.

Dobin from Scent and Sensibility - Ho from Our Sunny Days - Kihoon from Red Thread Quest - Seo-an from The Pizza Delivery Man and the Gold Palace by u-pi - Euihyun from Low Tide in Twilight

Top 5 BL Tops (Aesthetic): Personality technically also applies to each of these characters... except for Garon. I’ll be excluding him from that. Anyone who has read Toxin will know why... lol

Garon from Toxin - TJ from Wetsand by DOYAK - Seungho from Painter of the Night - Bihwan from Dreaming of the Dokkaebi - Jae-shin from The Ghost's Nocturne

Top 5 BL Bottoms (Aesthetic): They could also all fall into the personality category as well with no exceptions this time.

Bada from Dreadful Night - Taekjoo from Codename: Anastasia by Han/Eunbi/Boyseason - Kanae from Pink Heart Jam by Shikke - Yoohan from Payback by Fujoking/samk - Minchan from Dreaming of the Dokkaebi

[landlubber3000]

Roommate 3

Rafayel X y/n; non-mc main; college AU; roommates to lovers; fluff; pining; big crush energy; LIGHT INTIMATE SCENE (kissing, teasing, neck action).

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Rafayel waits outside of your lecture hall, his book bag squashed between him and the wall. Your professor’s voice carries as low him, and he wonders what you’re learning about today. Or if you’ll tell him about it. Will you even want to get lunch? Him taking you wasn’t planned. . . But he walked out of his class and thought well, being with you sounded nice.

The other night wasn’t planned either. . . It kind of just happened. It was clumsy, flimsy. Just honest and bare. What he said into your arm about the movie turned a light bulb on for him. The characters on the screen irritated him. Just be together. Surely, they had their issues to sort out, but why not sort them out together? Why waste time beating around the bush for some imaginary right moment?

💡

He didn’t have to agonize or overthink if he just bypassed his worries by what he stood to gain. It could be that simple, if he didn’t get in his own way.

He sighs and props his foot against the wall as he waits for you outside of your lecture hall. This outcome is the best he could’ve hoped for, even though it feels like holding something fragile. The unsettled and uncomfortable feeling of his heart being stretched has settled, and now comes navigating what it means to be in a relationship. He is your boyfriend right? This day and age is so confusing, when dating and being in a relationship are both synonymous and opposite of each other. And Raf hasn’t really dated anyone in a long time. . . Just situationships and one night stands.

Rafayel smacks his forehead, which presses his glasses a little too hard into the bridge of his nose.

“Ouch.”

He should’ve considered your wording better. He wanted to be exclusive with you, but did you want to be exclusive with him? Are you seeing other people? Why did he not ask these questions instead of kissing you?

Before he can even enjoy remembering that, the door opens next to him and he watches your classmates file out. You round the corner and you smile wide once you see him.

“Hi-“ you start, before being cut off by a classmate.

Rafayel has to hold back his glare at the intrusion.

“Aye, Raf,” a bro of Rafayel dabs him up. “What the hell are you doing over here?”

This guy. Raf is shocked he’s even in the same class as you. Their social circles over lap from time to time at the bars and wherever else they tend to party. He’s a beef cake, hot-headed wanna-be who has probably killed all of his brain cells drinking and picking fights. He also reminds him of that one irritating male lead from the movie, but Rafayel fears that with how many blows this idiot has taken to the head, there is no fixing stupid.

He’s also a player to boot. The idea of you falling for this kind of guy doesn’t sit well with Raf. He rests assured that you wouldn’t though. You’re too self-preserving and wouldn’t risk losing your sanity running circles around this douche canoe.

“Escorting y/n here to lunch,” he says, placing a hand at your back. “She doesn’t have much time before her next class so you and I can catch up later.”

“You coming to the party Friday though?”

“We’ll see.”

The bro glances at you, up and down. “Bring your friend along.”

Rafayel fake smiles and drops it once bro is a distance ahead. He shakes his head and turns his attention to you.

“He’s a character,” you say, humored. “In and out of class.”

Rafayel rolls his eyes. “More like a pain the ass. Sorry.” He reaches for your hand and plants a kiss on it. “How was class?”

“Good,” you say, then furrow your brows. “How did you know I was here?”

“Your schedule is on our fridge. I thought I’d surprise you. Or is that weird?”

“No, it’s cute. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule.”

You look around at the empty hallway and stand on your toes to peck his lips. “Was that weird to do?”

He’s blushing hard and can’t find his words. “Only if you stop,” he teases, cupping your face to kiss you again.

It’s the second time kissing you but he hasn’t gotten over the feeling. He never will. God, he loves honesty. He will never lie again if honesty feels this right all of the time.

He pulls away though. “Let’s get you fed.”

You sit across from Rafayel at the sushi place and poke at your roll. “So,” you start. “Will you go to that party?”

He fishes a noodle out of his ramen bowl and slurps it between his lips. He shrugs. “Maybe. Do you want to come with me?”

He knows it’s a long shot. It does not seem like your thing to do, and the people there . . . They can be so rowdy and less than pleasant. It’s even too much for him sometimes, but the drinking helps him tolerate it. Anything to fend off the morbs that wait for him when he isn’t distracted.

Are you a distraction?

The thought strikes a chord in him and he immediately leashes it. You are not that.

“It seems like a lot of people,” you say, taking a sharp breath. “I don’t do well in crowds.”

“Have you ever been to a party?”

“Hm. Not really. I’ve been to a couple gatherings, some bars with friends. It’s not something I go out of my way to do.”

Rafayel nods. “Valid. Well, if you think it might be fun, you’d be with me so. I’d protect your social anxiety.”

“While simultaneously challenging it.”

“Regardless,” he starts, and stirs his ramen around. “I’d like to spend my Friday night with you, if you’re not busy. Be it at a party or on a date or just a night in.”

Your cheeks redden, and he can’t help but flush himself. You smile and tuck your hair behind your ear. “I’d love to. Can I think about the party though?”

“Of course.”

Lunch comes and goes and Rafayel gives you a parting hug good bye as he drops you off at your next lecture.

“I’ll be home late tonight,” he tells you, holding onto the straps of his backpack. “I’ve got a lot of painting to do at my studio so you’ll have to fend for yourself.”

Rafayel leaves you and drives forty five minutes away to the studio on the beach. It’s gated, secluded. No one bothers him. He could’ve lived here for his senior year, but he decided against it for the sake of convenience. Thank goodness.

He tosses his bag down and throws himself on the couch in the living room. Either he’s going to get a lot done, or nothing at all. Several paintings sit on easels around the room. All but one is complete. His final-final piece is still just a sketch on the coffee table next to him.

He went out that Friday night because he couldn’t for the life of him figure out his last painting—that is until he saw that sunrise against your face. The morning he woke with you. He wanted to capture it forever, that Saturday morning in April.

He grabs the sketch and pencil. His paintings depict the different settings the ocean offers, and while he has a shore scene at sunset, he doesn’t have one at night, or before sunrise. He doesn’t want to replicate, even though sunrise and sunset evoke different emotions and inspire different colors. Does he paint the stars and the moon? The dark waters? When he touched your face and tempted fate. When he pulled you into his arms. When he started all this. Or does he paint the first light? When it was still dark, and it was you, him, and his thoughts about you.

Maybe, the answer lies somewhere in between.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Y/N, you should go,” your best friend, Mary-Cate, presses. She sit across from you at kitchen island while you do the dishes. “Like, clearly he wants to go with you.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m just worried about all the what-if’s. What if I get lost? What if he leaves me? What if I lose him? What if we’re too different?”

“Pookie, I highly doubt Rafayel would let any of that happen. And why would anyone waste their time on someone they don’t like? Besides, you’re a brave and strong woman. Your anxiety is making this out to be scarier than it probably is.”

“And you’reprobably right, as usual,” you say and shake off your hands.

The front door opens then and Rafayel walks in out of your sight, but she greets him. It sounds like he’s kicking off his shoes and dropping off his bag by the door. He comes into view tired, disheveled, and covered in paint. This has been his routine the past few days, but this is the first time you’ve seen him come in.

“Hey,” he says, offering a small smile when he sees you. The poor dark circles under his eyes. . . You hope he’s eaten. “I’m gonna get cleaned up and head to bed. I tried to get as much paint off at the studio but I was just too tired.”

“That’s okay. Just be careful,” you tease.

He wishes you both a good night, and once the bathroom door closes, she has a mischievous smile on her face. “You should go.”

“We’ll see.”

“No, I mean you should go help him get the rest of that paint off.”

You gape and cover your face. “Girl, go home.”

After a while longer of banter and exasperated whispering, you hug her goodnight at the front door.

You go to your room, but just as you do, the bathroom door opens. Rafayel walks out with a towel around his hips while he dries his hair. His skin glistens under the lowlight of the apartment, which deepens the shadows of his muscle definition. He locks eyes with you, as he would—you’re not exactly being discrete, standing there and letting your eyes shamelessly wander.

“Oh, hey,” he says and stands a few feet from you. He leaves the towel draped over his head and wet, dark strands peak out from beneath it. “You’re still awake.”

“Just about to get to bed,” you say, scratching the back of your neck and looking anywhere but him. A white streak on his arm catches your attention. “Cate left.”

“Oh, did you two have a good night?”

You nod. “And you?”

“I made some progress,” he sighs. “Still have a ways to go.”

“Good. Uhm, you have paint on your arm.”

He looks down at the white streak scaling the length of his forearm. He tsks and rolls his eyes. “I swear. . .”

He wipes it, and your eyes trail again, this time to his gripping the towel. You flush. That’s enough visuals for one night. You reach for your door handle when he blocks the door way with his arm.

He eyes you suspiciously. “Were you looking for an opportunity to run away?”

He’s close enough that you catch hints of sandalwood and salty ocean either from his hair or skin. He’s too close.

“I thought the conversation was over.”

He brushes a finger over your warm, red cheek. “I know that’s not what you were thinking.”

“What was I thinking about then?” You challenge, but you don’t know if you want to be on the winning or losing side.

He winks and squeezes your face and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Me.”

He moves his arm and ruffles your hair as he passes you to get to his room. The intense moment deescalates as quickly as it arrived. “The left side of my bed has vacancy if you’re ever interested,” he yawns. “I’m not a blanket hog and I don’t kick either, but I do have a penchant for cuddling.”

You lie awake in bed and fiddle with your lip. Is that an invitation? Beds are intimate. Sleeping in the same space, warmth shared, the potential for touch . . . you and Raf have kissed about twice now. You’re in no rush for anything more, and he doesn’t seem to be either, thank goodness. It’s a bit early yet. He is devastatingly beautiful, and you do wonder what his hands feel like on you for longer than 1-2 seconds.

A knot builds in your stomach as you work up the courage to go to his room. Ugh, you shouldn’t, but you want to. You throw your blankets off of you, and go to your door. Then turn around and pace back and forth. And back and forth. You braid your hair nervously and tie it at the end.

Sleeping on the other night on the beach was unplanned, but for some reason, having an objective is jarring.

“Just do it,” you whisper to yourself. “Cate would call you a baddie. Yeah, give her something to chew on.”

You steel yourself and as you leave your room and approach your door, you can’t bring yourself to turn the handle. . . Come on, he said you could. There’s no pressure. You have slept with him before.

You take a deep breath and turn his door handle. It opens without a peep, and you’re flooded with the smell of paint and vanilla. It’s dark, other than light shining in from outside. You step onto the drop cloth on his floor and close the door carefully behind you. You maneuver around his huge easel, which is thankfully visible from the light.

You can’t really see Rafayel’s sleeping form, but make out a long lump under the covers. You slide into the spot to the left of him, and as your vision adjusts, you make out the features of his face.

He sleeps soundly, his breathing steady and unbothered. You’re a bit stiff, worried to move too much, as you mirror him and shut your eyes, but your thoughts are racing. You almost leave this endeavor behind when you hear a faint rustling and arms pull you into his chest.

“I missed this,” he mumbles.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

He lifts your chin and you meet his sleepy gaze. “Thank god,” he says, then presses a short kiss to your lips.

More. Not long enough.

“Raf . . .”

He hums and mindlessly plays with your braid. You look to his eyes then to his lips and kiss them again, and linger. He tastes of subtle mint. He kisses you back and pulls you closer to his bare chest. His large, delicate hands caress your back while yours palm his chest.

He groans and hooks an arm around your leg, pulling you on top of him. You brace your hand on the pillow next to him while you’re inches from his face. “Did you come in here to seduce me?”

You’re faintly aware of his hand sliding up your back and into your braid where he wraps it around his hand. “No, that’s not-“

Tug

Your head tilts back and he exposes your neck. “You’re lying,” he whispers and kisses the middle of your neck.

He leaves a trail with his lips and the nerves along the way warm and melt as he continues drawing out the pleasure. Soft moans leave the back of your throat and rationale leaves your brain. This was one of two scenarios you figured would happen. Just because you said it might be too early, you didn’t say you’d mind.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe as shivers overwhelm you.

“Are you sorry for your shameless ogling?” He teases, licking and sucking, and definitely leaving hickeys, but you can’t find it in you to stop him.

“You-“

“Me what? Are you really gonna blame me for your desires?”

He pulls away from your neck and scrutinizes what he can of his lip service. You’re breathing heavy and every nerve is buzzing. Words. Words. Words. You have none. This unfamiliar side of him is easily intoxicating.

He raises his brows and rubs the sheen of saliva into your lips with his thumb. Whose is it? Likely both of yours.

“Cat got your tongue? You should learn to be as honest as your body.”

You push his shoulders down. “You ask a lot of questions.”

His eyes widen for just a moment, then he smirks and looks at you slyly. “I’m allowed to interrogate an intruder.”

You throw your hands in the air. “You gave me permission to come in here.”

He rolls his eyes and tickles your exposed waist and you screech.“Stoppppppp. Let go!!!”

He persists and you try to pry his hands away, but to no avail. He’s smiling and laughing at your weak attempts.

He rolls you over again and big spoons you. He places a kiss on your head and instructs you to go to bed. The original hesitation and stiffness left your body, your thoughts interrupted, and as you slowly slip away . . .

“Hey,” he says.

You hum.

There’s a pause. “We’re together-together, right?”

You turn to face him and his eyebrows are furrowed, worried, like he’s crossed a line.

“That’s what I agreed to, Rafayel.”

He nods and his features relax. He kisses your head again, and you continue your dissent into sleep.

-_-_-_-

“Are you sure you wanna go?”

Rafayel stands at the front door in a loose white button down shirt and shorts and a pair of sneakers. He ditched the glasses for his contacts tonight.

His arms are crossed as he assesses you. He gives you a look that says you could back out any moment, but you nod.

“I want to try.”

He nods and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You look adorable, cutie,” he says, eyeing your short black dress and sneakers. It’s more casual than anything so you’re comfortable. “Kinda jealous other people get to see you in it though. Does that make me possessive?”

He looks off to the side, genuinely thinking about it, then shrugs.

It’s about 8pm and the sun starts to set when you arrive at a two story house along the beach. A wealthy student’s you assume. You’re not 100% sure as this is Rafayel’s world, not yours. It’s already busy and the house is practically vibrating with music and noisy people.

Your heart pounds in your chest as he guides you through the front door and into the maw of the unknown. He has an iron grip on your hand as he guides you somewhere and plenty of people stop him along the way. He takes you to the backyard where people are mingling and floating in the pool and drinking.

“We’re better off out here so you have room to breathe,” he says, then nods to a small bar. “Want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll get whatever you get.”

Drink in hand, Rafayel leads you to a small group of people chatting in lawn chairs by the pool. They all greet him, but one guy in particular looks exuberant that Rafayel is finally here. He rises from his chair and dabs him up.

“My guy. How you doin’?

They banter for a minute or so, all the while Rafayel’s thumb strokes yours. Between sipping your strong ass drink and the feeling of his thumb, you’re fairly grounded. It’s the awkward blending in and being silent you’re dreading.

Bro takes a swig of his beer. “Who’s this?”

He seems friendly, friendlier than your one class mate. You have yet to encounter him.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Thomas, one of my closest friends and rivals in class.”

Thomas looks a bit bemused and . . . proud?

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Thomas says. He extends his hand and you let go of Raf’s to shake it. “I hope Rafayel is treating you well. You can tattle to me if he isn’t.”

“Okay, okay,” Rafayel says, rolling his eyes and taking your hand back. “We’re gonna chill.”

You two sit in empty seats by Thomas with the rest of his clique. Several conversations carry on at once. Some of the girls keep making glances at you, and you try to ignore it.

While Rafayel is drawn into another conversation, you text Cate updates.

“So, how long have you and Raf known each other?” Thomas asks.

“Since the beginning of first semester. That’s how long we’ve roommates.”

“Oh, you’re his roommate,” he says, his eyes widening. “You think he’d tell his best friend these things, but clearly, he has a communication problem.”

You laugh at this. “Ah, well, can’t disagree. He has a communication style of his own—that’s for sure. How long have you known him?”

A long time. They met freshman year of college and have been inseparable ever since. He tells you about his senior project, which is also an art exhibition, and says he’d love to show you his once it’s ready. Talking to Thomas is smooth, and you’re grateful to know someone in Raf’s circle now. Easy conversation made the alcohol disappear faster, and you start to feel it.

The sun finally sets and lights illuminate the backyard. The crowd slowly thickens and the music grows louder. It smells of weed and grape vape smoke, which Thomas and Raf pass one of their own between each other.

“Hey,” Rafayel interjects, his cheeks flush from the alcohol. “I gotta go to the bathroom and get another drink. Come with?”

Rafayel snags Thomas’ cup too and you follow him through the thick crowd of dancing bodies and people stopping to say hi. You’re sardined to the wall as you walk up the stairs and he slips into one of the first doors on the floor.

You immediately text Cate a flurry of random texts to keep yourself busy. People pass and leave you alone, until a familiar face rounds the corner after coming up the stairs. You almost forgot he was coming.

He sleeps in class and says the stupidest shit. He looks at you for a long moment, as if he’s trying to recognize you. Unfortunately, he does.

“Hey,” bro finally says. “You came. Where’s Raf?”

You point at the door. “Bathroom.”

He leans next to you against the wall and tries to make conversation, to which you give straight, lame answers.

“So, you’re letting him hit?”

You scrunch your face. Oh god. “We’re going steady.”

“Oh. Right, right. You know, I’ve seen you in class,” he says, then starts gesticulating his beer around. You’re waiting for him to spill it everywhere. “You’re pretty and smart. Maybe too pretty and smart for someone like him.”

“Someone like him?”

“Bro’s a stud. He’s surrounded by chicks all the time and gets bored easily. Kind of hard to believe he’d settle down . . .” He looks you up and down again, a nasty fucking habit of his, and shrugs. “But he’s got good taste.”

Your irritation starts to build and you want to walk away.

“Good things should be shared,” he says, sliding closer along the wall. “I know he doesn’t mind. Not like he plans for seconds-“

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol making your fuse short, but you deadpan. “What the fuck are you? Rafayel’s clean up crew? You’re fucking delusional if you think I’d even look in your direction.”

You bypass him and your heart pounds with regret as you know it would piss him off. You hear him call you a “bitch” on the way down the stairs, followed by other curses about Rafayel and how you’re being used, blah, blah, blah. You don’t know if any of what he said is true, but surely, naturally, twinges of jealousy, and the hypothetical devastation of potentially ever losing his interest, plague you.

You take a swig of your nearly empty rotten drink and bee-line for the back door to grab your bag that you left by Thomas. Rafayel can hold his own in this atmosphere, and you don’t need to be here.

You push your way outside where it’s slightly cooler when a hand snatches your bicep and you’re about to swing until you see who it is. Rafayel. He’s on your lips in an instant. He tastes sweet and excellent and tipsy.

“You’re so brilliant,” he breaths.

“What?”

He tucks your hair behind your ears. “I’d settle down with you in every life.”

You’re taken aback by his admission. It has to be the alcohol.

You purse your lips. “You heard all that?”

“Thin walls,” he says, then looks pained. “Look, I’m sorry about what he said. I wish I could say it isn’t true, but you are not temporary entertainment.”

He brings your hands to his face. He closes his eyes and nuzzles into them, and it reminds you of a cat.

The party vibrates around you while you share this solitary moment. The painful feeling lingers, a stroke of doubt, but he’s here in front of you.

“And I would never share you,” he says, his eyes narrowing. It’s serious, like a warning. Not for you, but to anyone who even dare try to take a part of you.

He kisses you again but with feverish intent. It’s so dark and cramped and hot and busy that no one is paying attention. It registers that someone could be, but . . . You’re slightly too preoccupied to worry about who could be judging you at this moment.

“Open your mouth, baby,” he says lowly.

You obey mindlessly, a blush prickling under your cheeks at the tone of his voice.

He slides his tongue against yours for the first time and kisses you with intent to devour. You resist the noise wanting to rise out of your throat.

He pulls away. “Now, anyone who wants to enter my orbit, or is in my orbit, knows who I belong to.”He glances towards his clique by the pool. “And who you belong to.”

One moment he’s in front of you, and the next he’s blown onto the concrete. Stunned, you watch the barbarian from upstairs stand over Rafayel and blast into his face.

“This’ll teach you some respect you piece of shit,” he hurls, relentlessly pistoning while Raf processes what’s even happening.

You try to pry him off of Raf, and you contemplate causing permanent damage. You see Thomas and others scrambling to get over.

“Hopefully I don’t get an assault charge,” you pray, as you launch your foot between his legs.

Bro grabs his junk and groans every profanity under the sun. Rafayel pushes him off and sits up. You hurry to his busted up face. His nose is bleeding and lip split down the middle. Blood splatter peppers his white shirt. His eyes are dead locked onto him, and boy, if looks could kill.

You turn Raf’s face to yours . “Are you okay?”

His eyes soften and he chuckles. “Nice kick.”

Thomas and others heave the barbarian up and he struggles against them. He protests and continues his verbal assault.

“Shut the fuck up already,” Thomas snaps. He pours a cup of alcohol in his face, then snags the back of his neck to lead him out. “How many times are you gonna say asshole?”

You help Raf up to his feet and he groans. “Headache.”

“Do you need to go to the emergency room?”

He pulls you into his arms for a hug . “An ice pack and ibuprofen will do.” He kisses the side of your head. “I’m sorry for the drama.”

“Did you say something to him after you left the bathroom?”

He shrugs. “I have your honor to uphold.”

_-_-_-_-__-_-_-_——_-_-

Eeeeeek part three. Wake up, mama cooked. This was really fun to write. Hopefully you cuties like it too. I read over this a trillion times so hopefully I didn’t miss anything fml.

[foreignswaggersession]

alright i'm gonna say this as nicely as i can. if you actually think louis ate his nephew you're an idiot not paying attention. that baby wasn't just a baby, it was his NEPHEW, grace's child. once again, i'm asking you to think seriously - if grace left her baby alone with louis, and came back to a dead baby, do you think grace would not hold louis responsible for her baby's death? do you think grace would tell jonah where to find louis, and not "louis killed my child you should avoid him?"

do you think they would even entertain letting louis come to the house anymore to visit grace's other children, day or night?

do you think grace would invite him to their mother's funeral (or any other events that louis missed - like his not-dead nephew's christening, which takes place AFTER ep 2)?

do you think grace would mark his grave like this???

that whole "did you eat the baby" scene is why episode 2 is my least favorite episode of season 1. it goes on for so long, and then people with no brain cells think they're smart by saying "louis's such a crazy liar he would eat a baby" (ok i've stopped being nice - if you think louis ate that baby you have no right to say anything about this show)

also, we don't see the son at the twins' birthday party because he's still a baby/toddler and probably asleep. he didn't eat his fucking nephew omg be serious.

[bangchxnnie]

how long will this last? (pt. 2)

pairing: felix and fem!reader

tropes: friends to enemies to lovers, idiots in love, brother’s best friend if you squint? , college!au?

content warnings: 3rd person writing, alcohol is mentioned, reader is nicknamed barbie, felix is stupid, cursing, orange cats, shitty writing, bin being bin, massive miscommunication, what can barely be considered angst, some suggestive elements (but as always, read at your own risk buddy!)

chapter word count: ≈4.7k

|| hlwtl masterlist || part 1 || part 3 ||

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

“Did you eat my fucking pasta leftovers?” She groans, searching through the fridge. 

“You were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you up and ask what is off limits and what isn’t.” 

“You’re such a prick.” She slams the fridge shut and fights a full-on pout. 

My pasta…

“What bit your ass?” 

It takes a while to explain everything to her brother fully. With how busy his job has been, he’s barely popped in over the last few months. She’s be lying if she said it wasn’t good to see him, though. Scare or not. 

She keeps stopping to fight the residual anger, sadness, or the weird mix of both that comes whenever she says Felix’s name. To Chris’s credit, he does his best to sit and just listen. Until she gets to the part about Felix saying she’s not worth it. He laughs at that. 

“What’s so funny?”

“God, he’s so transparent.”

She looks at him in confusion. 

“Continue. Please.” 

BP, the little traitor, sits in Chris’s lap the whole time, purring contentedly at the constant affection.

Can’t trust none of these hoes. 

When she finishes, he sits in silence for a moment. 

“So it sounds like he’s jealous, dude.” He says simply. 

B immediately shakes her head in protest and waves him off for good measure. 

“No, he’s just a dick.” 

“That may be true too, and I do want to kick his ass, but he’s clearly and obviously jealous of you and Binnie.” 

“You’re clinically insane. There’s nothing to be jealous of!” Her irritation could not be more obvious. Folded arms, jaw tensed, eyes skyward. “He’s just an ass, and there’s nothing more to it.” 

“Are you really that oblivious? I mean, c’mon, I know I’m the brains of the family, but-“ She smacks him upside the head. “Ow! Don’t damage the goods!” 

“Then stop saying dumb shit!” Chris glares at her. 

“I’m not. Anyone with eyes and half a brain cell can see he’s into you. Like, well into you. And has been. It’s quite gross, actually.” Her heart rate picks up at his words. She doesn’t actually believe him, but it gives her butterflies all the same. 

She covers by raising an eyebrow at him. He takes it as a sign to continue. “Look, I’m not gonna tell you what to do. But think about it. He threw a fit that day because he came home and saw you flirting with Bin.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him! That’s gross. Bin was just being himself. He’s always like that. Felix knows this.”

“Doesn’t mean he likes it. Maybe he just snapped.” 

She doesn’t buy it. They’re grown-ass people.

If Felix really was that upset, why wouldn’t he just say something? He’s always been able to tell me when he’s bothered.

If it were that simple, why didn’t you tell Felix how you felt, either? 

…Even my brain is a traitorous traitor. Why are we defending him?

“Okay, fine. What about that day he lied about his laptop?” 

“Maybe he genuinely forgot he had it. Or maybe, that loud ass sound you heard was him at the door.” 

B doesn’t say anything. 

“You said he was in the hallway, right? Maybe he had come home, saw Bin and you doing…whatever the fuck you were doing, and left.” 

Surely she would have noticed if Felix had come in, right? She’s normally so observant. Or at least, she thought she was. It’s a lot of information to process. 

“I mean, really? What the hell were you doing?”

“Irrelevant. What do I do about it?” B reaches for her cat, still seated in Chris’s lap. BP hisses at her. 

Fucker.

“Talk to him, dude. Jesus Christ, I thought you were smarter than this.” Chris just sighs. 

“Thanks, dipshit. And how exactly do you expect me to do that when he ignores me at every turn?” 

“I can’t give you all the answers. Damn. You’ve got to do some of the work yourself. Now,” He gently sets BP down and stands to stretch. “I’d really like to get some sleep. Is the spare room clean?” 

B thinks she’s probably going to kill him before this week is over.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

“What about that one? He’s so cute!” Felix points to a nearby cage, cooing at the cat on the other side. 

“His sign literally says, ‘I Don’t Like People.’” B counters, shaking her head. 

Felix just smiles that goofy smile at her that she loves. “Which means you already have something in common!” 

Her mouth drops in semi-shock at his comment, and she half-heartedly nudges his arm. “I like you well enough!” The same arm wraps around him and she continues walking. “How about this one?” She points to a couple of cages over; a little paw sticking out between the tiny metal poles of the door. 

“I dunno…she seems a little small. So dainty. She’s got to be able to hold her own in your house.” Felix plays with her as much as he can through the barrier, even going so far as to make baby talk to her. B giggles, just watching him for a bit. He’s so gentle with everything; no wonder the littles flock to him at family events. “Whad’ya think, Beautiful? Do you wanna come home with us? Just say the word, and we’ll take you home, yeah?”

Us. The way that one word makes B feel is more than dangerous. Floaty, warm, and fuzzy. After all, there is no us. Just her and Felix. As friends. Until the end of time. 

How miserable.

Felix jolts back when the cat swipes at him, catching his knuckle. “Ow! Fuck!” B blinks back to reality.

“Serves you right for calling her dainty.” 

Felix throws his free arm up in defeat. “Fair enough.”

 He steps into B’s space silently, suddenly laser-focused on reaching the top of her head. He gently moves a stray hair back into place, following it down to tuck it behind her ears. “Sorry, Gorgeous, it was standing up weird.” It’s all he offers in explanation. 

Not that she minds. But between the pet name and the touch, she’s sure her face is outing her in more ways than one. 

You’ve got to get it under control, girl! Get. A. Grip. 

Felix clears his throat, steps back, and offers his arm to her. “Shall we?” 

They interact with a few more cats, and every time Felix talks to the cats, it tugs at B’s heartstrings. She can’t help but watch the way his freckles crinkle when he smiles or how his eyes light up when any of the cats interact with him back. “How are you today, sweetheart?” or “Are you having a good day?” or B’s personal favorite, complete with baby voice-“I might have to just steal you for myself. Yeah, I think I do.” 

Eventually, they come across one that seems thoroughly uninterested in Felix. Felix tries to play with him, but he doesn’t budge. “Well, fine. Be like that then.” He pouts like a petulant toddler. 

“I think he’s just tired.” 

“Is he? He seems pretty indifferent toward me.” 

“Let me try.”

“Be my guest, gorgeous.”

B tries to coax him out from the corner of his enclosure. He slowly sits his head up and just stares at her. At least it’s more of a reaction than what he gave the man.

The cat approaches the cage leisurely like he has all the time in the world. Which, one supposes, he does. B drops her arm from Felix’s to get closer to the semi-curious cat, who lets Barbie pet him and seems content with just that. 

“I think he likes me? Maybe?” She searches the cage for his information card. 

Name: Bobby Pin 

Felix laughs. It compels another smile from B, much like anything else he does. “Bobby Pin? How do they come up with these names?” 

“I mean, my friend in grade school had a cat named Crayon. She tried to eat one as a kitten right after they got her. So there it was.” 

The way he listens so intently when she speaks makes her feel like anything she has to say is important. That she is important, it’s a feeling she cherishes more than he knows. 

Felix tries to reach for the cat again, seemingly feeling like he’s missing out. When the cat grumbles but lets him, both humans laugh. B decides that he’s the one.

She goes searching for a shelter employee. 

“Excuse me, we’d like to fill out an application for this one?” 

The memory pulses a pang in her chest that feels so wrong. It doesn’t seem right that just a few months ago, they were fine, and now, he’s saying shit like, “You’re not worth it”. It doesn’t make sense. Her conversation with Chris and the memory keeps her up until her eyelids can’t hold their own weight anymore. 

She manages an entire 36 hours almost completely people-free. She gets out of bed three times the first day. Once to use the bathroom, once to grab an obscene amount of snacks and dash back to bed, and a third time to grab the remote that fell underneath her bed. Other than that, she’s either sleeping, eating, or watching episodes of a show she’s seen a million times. It usually leads to another nap, honestly. The other days it's even less. Maybe twice, if that. Chris checks on her once a day to ensure she’s alive, asks if she wants him to stay (she says no), tells her to call if she needs him, and leaves. She doesn’t call, though. In fact, she turns her phone completely off to avoid everyone else. 

The fourth morning, however, another unwelcome visitor breaks into the apartment. He also has a key, but that’s beside the point. 

“B, are you home?” She’s already awake but would rather be sleeping off what feels like the beginning of a massive headache. Maybe it’s from all the crying. Maybe someone snuck in the middle of the night and poured alcohol down her throat. Maybe it’s from the yelling. She can’t be sure. The possibilities are endless, really. But what she is sure of is the fact that she doesn’t want to deal with Changbin. Not today.

Die. I want to crawl into a hole and make it my home like I’m some kind of mole. I could be a mole man. Mole-woman? Mole-person. 

She snaps her eyes shut and listens for his footsteps. She’s trying to gauge how far away he is since he says nothing else. She is unsuccessful.

“Well, you look awful.” 

Fuck.

“Go away.” She pulls the covers over her head and turns away from the door. 

“No, we’re not doing this sulking thing. C’mon.” He grabs BP from the foot of the bed and sets him on the floor. BP is unhappy about it, grumbling annoyed cat noises while he stretches and searches for a new sleep spot. 

“Oh, hush. You love me.” Bin argues with himself, it seems, because BP ignores him. 

He gently tugs at Barbie’s comforter. He’s trying to give her a chance to let it go. And when she doesn’t, he just snatches it from her hands and tosses it to the end of the bed. He sits on the edge and waits for her to sit up. She doesn’t. 

“Um, hello?! I have no pants on!” B protests, though she makes no effort to hide anything. Her sleep shirt is long enough that it covers everything anyway. 

“Oh, no! Legs! What’s a man to do?!” Bin faux gasps, clutching his hand to his chest. 

He deadpans seconds later. “C’mon, Barbie.” 

“If you say, let’s go party, I will kick you in the stomach.” 

Bin blinks at her. “Just get up!” 

“I don’t want to!” She thrashes around in protest, tears already threatening to expose themselves. “I’m in pain, I’m humiliated, I’ve been invaded, I’m-“ 

“Invaded?” Bin tilts his head, amused. 

She props herself up on her elbows. “Chris is here.” And just as quickly, drops herself back flat on the bed.

Bin mouths a silent oh. 

“Well, he can come too.” Changbin pats her leg and stands. 

“Where are we allegedly going?” Once again up on her elbows, B eyes him carefully. 

“The beach. Obviously.” 

An eyebrow raises. “In autumn?”

“Nobody said we were swimming. Now get up, and take a shower. You smell like sadness.” 

He finds his way to her tall dresser across the room and starts rummaging through it for appropriate clothing. 

She sighs in defeat, dragging herself up to a sitting position. A hefty yawn escapes her lips, and it dawns on her she has no idea what time of day it is.

“Wait, what time is it?” B searches for her phone, but it’s not in its usual spot on her nightstand. “And where’s my phone?” 

“7:30.” 

“AM?!” 

Bin waves her off as if it’s unimportant information. 

“You do realize this is an executable offense.” 

He turns his head to look at her, evil smile spread across his face. “Kill me and I’ll haunt you until your last breath.” 

It’s probably true. 

He tosses some clothes at her and points to the bathroom, exiting the bedroom in the same stride. “Shower. I’m gonna go wake your brother up.” 

“Best of luck, soldier.” 

She takes a deep breath, determined to face whatever the day throws her way. She quickly grabs the clothes thrown at her and heads to the bathroom. As she steps inside, a feeling of dread overcomes her. 

Why do I feel like this day is going to be a shitshow?

She closes her eyes and prays for the best. 

The shower is surprisingly refreshing. Once she finally convinced herself to get in, it’s hard to get out. A full wash can be quite draining most days, but the effort came with a little more ease once the warm stream also warmed the room. She leaves a little less dread-filled and a little more hungry.

After she gets dressed and styles herself to her liking, she heads to the spare room to see how successful Bin is at getting Chris up. He’s usually hard to rise since he doesn’t sleep much, either. 

She finds her brother and her friend..giggling. On the bed. Bin lightly punches Chris’s arm, and Chris falls into a full fit of laughter. 

She smiles, happy to see some of her favorite people so happy. “What’s so funny?” 

Their laughs settle, and Chris waves her off. “It’s nothing.” 

Bin agrees, lingering laughter escaping. “Don’t worry about it, Barbie.” 

She frowns, but doesn’t press. The uneasy feeling in her is growing, but doesn’t have the energy to have it out with them about it.

“Oh. Well, are we going to leave soon?” Her entire demeanor shifts.  

“Soon, we’re just waiting for one more arrival.” No one has time to address B's body language because as if on cue, the door shakes violently. The doorknob attempts to turn, but, of course, it’s locked. The door shakes again, and B sighs. 

“Why would you leave a brainless squirrel outside by himself?” 

Bin shrugs.

“I heard that!” It’s slightly muffled, but the hurt is still there. 

B unlocks the door and steps back, allowing Jisung to clamber inside. He almost crashes into Barbie with how aggressively he runs in. He’s breathing heavy, dramatically sets his hands on his knees to ‘catch his breath’. When he stands, he narrows his eyes at his friend.

“The door wouldn’t open.” 

B laughs. “Because it's locked, dumbass.” 

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“When it didn’t open?” She ruffles his hair. He swats her hand away and attempts to fix it, muttering something under his breath. 

Han Jisung is…a special friend. He can be incredibly intelligent, and very insightful, but it’s blanketed by a lack of common sense sometimes. Most times. He likes to say he’s too smart for his own good. There’s a sliver of truth to the statement. 

“Can we go now?” 

The beach itself is relatively uneventful. Bin packed a picnic kit and some chairs for the group to just sit and talk for a while. He even packed a book for B for when she’s burnt out socially. It’s a kind gesture, but B opts to just sit and listen to the waves, conversation as her background noise. Jisung chooses to sit with her in silence. Eventually, she lays her head on his shoulder. It’s the happiest she’s been all week. 

Nobody says anything to her until they start getting back to the car.

“You know, it’s okay to talk about it.” Chris says, pulling his seatbelt across his lap in the driver’s seat. “How you feel about it.” 

B shakes her head. “I don’t know how I feel.” 

“That’s fine too.” It’s the last he says on the subject. 

The rest of the boys pile in after closing the back of the car, resuming whatever new conversation they’d started on the walk back. B doesn’t really take in much of it. Until she heard something about her brother’s birthday.

“Oh, yeah! Have you finished everything for Saturday, Chris?” 

“Yeah, about that…” He cringes, like the words are paining him.

“What did you do.” 

“ThevenuecanceledandwehavenowhereelsetohostitsoIwashopingyouwouldletususetheapartment.” The words blur together, but she manages to get the gist. And she’s not happy about it.

“And how long have you known this, Christopher?” She stares him down through the rear view mirror. 

“Just since yesterday! I swear! I was just as mad as you are but I know that you love me and you’ll do me this major solid and I’ll owe you big time.” He flashes her his biggest smile, hoping it’ll seal the deal. The car is quiet, save for the radio, while she contemplates her answer. 

“…Yeah, you’ll owe me big time.” 

The whole car lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re the best!” Chris sing-songs. B flips him the bird, smile fighting at the corners of her lips. 

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

Turns out, Chris has much more of his party planning shit together than anyone realises. The transition from venue to house party is relatively smooth over the next few days.. Hiding away the valuables and ultra breakables (nobody plans to get that wasted, but who knows), deep cleaning every room in the house, locking doors to off-limit rooms, the works. 

“Do you really not trust your friends that much?” Barbie questions. She’s washing up the rest of the dishes before she has zero energy left. 

“It’s not his friends he’s worried about, Barbie.” Seungmin joins in, spread comfortably across her couch.

“Oh, right. The New Year’s incident.” Jisung had gotten so drunk he’d gone up to every single person at the party and challenged them to an arm wrestle, and if they lost, he got to kiss them. He almost left with a broken arm. 

“We agreed we won't talk about that anymore.” Jisung gripes anytime somebody mentions it. 

“You agreed. With yourself.” B counters. 

Jisung, Changbin, and Chris all make weird eye contact with one another. It sets off that uneasy feeling in B’s stomach again. It’s so frustrating to feel out of the loop. Again. 

“What is this, some sort of weird intimate mindmeld? What aren’t you guys telling me?” 

They make eye contact again, and Bin clears his throat. 

“Um, Felix is, uh, coming to the party.” 

Her stomach drops at his name. Whether that’s from anger or something else is unknown. She hides her feelings behind a neutral face. 

“Oh. Well, I knew that. He and Chris have been friends for ages.” 

Nobody’s buying it. 

“Are you sure?” He speaks slowly; he’s scared to spook her. 

“Yes. Just because he can’t be civil doesn’t mean I can’t. Kill ‘em with kindness, yeah?” She shrugs and walks off to her room as casually as she can manage. 

She locks her door behind her and can feel a panic attack rising with every breath. She uses her grounding techniques to fight it off before it consumes her. 

Okay, I have exactly…16 hours to get my shit together. Oh shit. Chris was right. I just need to get through the night, and then I can sit his ass down and sort this shit out. His being into me is the only logical explanation for all his bullshit. It has to be. Yeah, I’m gonna talk to him when this is all over. 

She eventually hears a knocking sound in the back of her mind. It takes a few seconds to register that it is, in fact, a real knocking sound. 

“Hey, y’okay? We can tell him no if that’s what you want. Believe me, I have no issue doing that with how stupid he’s been acting lately.” 

She tries to laugh, but it comes out choked. It’s more air than sound. Some stray tears get eaten, which is weird because she didn’t even realize she was crying. She wipes her face and gets off the bed to unlock the door. 

She’s met on the other side of the door with Chris leaning on the doorframe, a sympathetic look adorning his face. 

“It’s okay, really. One night won’t kill me.” 

“I’d be a shit brother to let him around after all this.” 

“Good thing it’s not your call, then! It’s mine, and I say I want to move forward.” 

Chris nods. He knows when it’s the final straw for her, and she’s nearing it. He doesn’t bring it up again. She’s grateful for it. 

One more day and I’ll get my answers. 

….

….

She jolts awake, a scream echoing through her brain. Was it real? Was it in her head? 

She takes a moment to process her surroundings. The clock says 2:26 am. It’s dark. It’s cold. She realises 3 things:

She had a nightmare.

Felix is not here. She doesn’t know where he is. Thankfully? Unfortunately? Why do I wanna know where he is?

The scream was real, as noted by Chris and Changbin rushing to her room to see what had happened. My bad, bro. 

It takes a cup of tea, half a movie, and an extra body (Changbin) in her room to get her back to sleep. It’s in moments like this that she deeply appreciates the friends she has and the way they support her. 

When she wakes in normal operating hours, Changbin is still asleep in her bed. Granted, he’s somehow wrapped up in two blankets, and one of his legs is hanging off the bed, but he’s still there. She reaches across and attempts to unravel him because it must be hot like that, but all he does is grumble something that sounds like, “Get off my head,” and rolls toward the middle of the bed.

Can't say I didn’t try. 

B leaves him to his fate and gets herself ready for the day. 

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

“Hi! Thank you for coming!” B greets guests happily, hugging and smiling as each person steps over the threshold of her apartment. She gestures to the nearest bedroom, offers them a place to drop their bag and coat, and tells them to enjoy themselves. It’s the same formula for nearly every person. 

While doing rounds, she spots a familiar face by the back door. 

“Look at you, all dressed up!” She wolf whistles at him, and Seungmin’s face reddens, but he brushes her off. Truthfully, it's just a button-up and pants, but he looks good anyway.

“I was told dress nice or die, so.” He does his best to keep a neutral face, but it’s obvious he’s in good spirits. 

“Well, you look very nice. Very handsome.” B teases, pinching at his cheek. She loves to mess with him like an older sister, and as much as he complains, B has a feeling he doesn’t mind one bit. To save face, however, he ducks away and wanders off to find his friend Jeongin. 

Chris is mingling happily as cohost, beer in hand, as he hugs or high-fives his friends who made it out here. Communicating the last-minute change was the hardest part, but they made it work. It's nice to see him relaxed. It doesn’t go unnoticed how he works himself into the ground at that studio of his. Hopefully, this week has been a nice break from that. 

A hand on her back makes her jump,and she gets immediately defensive. Have spins around, ready to say something about personal space, but it’s just Changbin. “My bad, my bad! I didn’t mean to scare you!” He looks…nice. Fitted polo shirt that shows off his arms (shocker) and neutral pants. It’s a good look when you add in the watch on his wrist. 

“Just wanted to tell you that you look cute, Barbie!” He continues, gesturing to the dress B picked for the evening. Black and simple. Hair and makeup to match. 

Elegant. Classy. Easy, breezy, beautiful, covergirl. 

She smiles. “It has pockets!” She dips her hands into the pockets and twirls the dress to show it off. 

“I’m thrilled for you and your pockets. Do you want a drink?” She takes him up on his offer, and he sets off on his mission. 

In the meantime, she checks up on supplies. Everything seems to be good. Something catches her attention back toward the entry, and B’s heart drops to her ass. 

In walks Felix. And he looks divine. Black turtleneck, black pants, he even dyed his hair. She swears time has stopped.

Holy shit. Just, holy shit.

She agreed with everyone earlier against greeting him for fear of a cold shoulder. She knows herself, and she won’t let it slide if he decides to show out today, and today is not the day for that. Tomorrow, definitely, but not today. Instead, she just watches him walk in and barely notices the person following behind him.

Binnie returns with her drink, and they watch Felix timidly approach Chris. They share a mildly awkward embrace. Another person is standing beside Felix, a woman who looks just as, if not more, uncomfortable by the situation. They can’t hear what’s being said, but they see Chris give Felix a weird look before turning his attention to the woman. Chris greets her politely, gestures to the kitchen, and makes eye contact with Bin across. 

It genuinely looks like he’s trying to say something telepathically, and Bin almost looks like he understands. 

Men. How fucking weird. 

Just like it’s weird that Bin steps behind her, semi-casually wrapping an arm around her waist. “Don't do anything crazy.” Is all he says. She’s so busy getting ready to question how much he’s had to drink and what the fuck he means that she doesn’t notice when Felix approaches. Felix clears his throat and stops an awkward distance away. 

She acknowledges him by meeting his eye but doesn’t break Bin’s hold. 

“Felix.” Bin doesn’t hide his ire. Apparently, things haven’t been as smooth as he’s been telling Barbie it has been. She makes a mental note to bring it up later. 

“Long time no see, huh?” He attempts a laugh, but it falls flat.

B scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”

Bin squeezes her waist, a warning. She ‘accidentally’ steps on his foot in response.

“How are you?” He looks straight at B. He almost sounds…genuine. She contemplates giving him a real answer. Changbin answers before she can say anything-“We’re fine.” 

Felix goes silent. The moment stretches, long and very awkward. It’s becoming more and more uncomfortable with each blink, and B prepares to just walk away before Bin decides to speak up. 

“Who’s your friend?” He gestures to the woman pretending to look around the room. Felix reaches for her hand, and she smiles, interlocking their fingers. She’s pretty. Like, really pretty. Between the two of them, B’s not exactly sure who she should be looking at. 

“This is my girlfriend, Aila.”

Changbin’s grip on ‘his’ girl tightens. 

I think I’m gonna throw up.

[teleit]

Who would be the best ruler of Westeros? Me, I have the desire to do good deeds, even when others beg for mercy

Jokes aside, but really - who? The show actively tells me that Rhaenyra is the only possible option, because this woman glows in the dark from all the blessings received from every god in existence and shits wisdom and greatness.

But is she? Let's hear my useless opinion.

First, where are we looking - at canon (the book), or at the screened fanfic (the show)?

In terms of canon, I think Jacaerys was the best option, but only because the other candidates were complete failures. The way Martin described this boy, even through the lens of the biased Black and Green sources, sounds promising. Yes, 90% of his decisions ended up being failures - he suggested recruiting more dragonriders from dragon seeds, and got Hugh and Ulf; he suggested sending Aegon III and Viserys to Pentos, and they were captured by the Triarchy; he went to rescue his brothers with a bunch of newbies who could barely stay on their dragons, and he ended up getting killed.

If it weren't for the circumstances of his birth, which would inevitably lead to a rebellion by the lords outraged by a bastard on the throne, Jacaerys might have been a good king. He just needed time to grow up.

But on the show? No one. No one at all. None of these people, they are all absolutely terrible.

Rhaenyra? That woman wouldn't know the word "responsibility" if it ambushed her in a parking lot and beat the crap out of her. She doesn't understand what ruling is even twenty years after being named heir, and she asks helplessly "what should I do?", wringing her hands at every difficulty. She does one stupid thing after another, driven by anything but common sense. If she were queen, we'd have another crisis in ten years or so.

Daemon? Lmao. No. That dude lived, fucked and died for shits and giggles, he can't be trusted with snow in the winter.

Jacaerys? That's the boy who solves problems with violence (pulling out a dagger when insulted, punching his uncle in the face when insulted, need I go on?), and loses every fight he starts. He doesn't speak Valyrian, constantly whines and cries to his fiancée and mother that he doesn't know what to do or how to be, and is practically useless during wartime (because his smart decisions were given to Rhaenyra, but that's another story).

Lucerys? Yeah, sure, how can you forget how he handled himself so perfectly at dinner when he should have just kept his mouth shut, but instead he decided that laughing at the crazy uncle he maimed and never apologized for was the height of comedy, better only fart jokes. That boy had one brain cell, and it was on permanent sick leave for the entire season.

Rhaenys? A woman who talks about the slavery of the patriarchy and submits to the decisions of her ambitious to the point of stupidity husband. Marrying her little daughter to her forty year old cousin? Why not. Losing two children because of Rhaenyra and Daemon, and continuing to serve their interests, even though they use her as they please, because Corlys hopes that someday it will pay off? Excellent solution, let's also scold husband for not loving his own bastards enough, and then die ingloriously and uselessly. Yes, the queen we deserve, Rhaenys the Spineless.

Aegon? He can only be a good king if a miracle happens and he stops listening to the idiots around him, gets rid of his mommy and daddy issues, and starts using his head for more than just pouring wine into mouth. Which won't happen, because the writers HATE this man. He'll be pathetic and useless, and then he'll die, because gods forbid there should be an equal fight between a woman and a man for the throne, a woman needs to kick a body sprawled on the ground, disarmed and incapacitated, so that everyone understands that she is superior to him in everything.

Aemond? Season 1 - maybe after a couple of years of therapy, Season 2 - no, he literally doesn't have a single thought in his head except "blood revenge hate aaarrrgghhh", and only occasionally do we see glimpses of a complex character, thanks to Ewan's insane talent.

Helaena? Poor girl, who was just like Aemond crippled by the script so much that even Martin couldn't stand it (Helaena will die just because, for no reason… wow, such deep character development…), give her her bugs and leave her alone.

In canon, the dance of the dragons is the result of well-intentioned stupidity of several generations, in the show - a parable of why incest is bad, just look at how much the mental capacity of people whose family tree looks like a wreath has suffered.

Ps. Still not native speaker and dgaf about mistakes, english can suck my imaginary dick