#he looked so so perfect in this scene. idk how to explain it. i could literally look at him all day in this 😍😍😍😍

[itsallaboutbl]

Boom Raweewit as Akin Top Form, ep. 4

[swiftjay23]

Could you PLEASE write about all 7 of the members of how good they are when they’re fingering the reader and they reach their orgasm quickly? Idk how else to explain but I’m a HUGE sucker for fingering more than the dicks. Sorry if I sound weird or horny but I can’t help it! They make me think the dirtiest thoughts about them every time I read smut fanfics about them.

Heyy hun! I'm so sorry for being late, I was absolutely SWAMPED, like I kid you not, and I still have a ton shit of work to do, so I might even close requests for a little while. You can still request, but I won't answer them that quick. But that's beside the point, thank you for your request, cus who wouldn't want to write about Enhypen's sexylicious fingers 😣🛐😫💦💦

⚠️ Warnings (apply across all 7 scenarios): This series is fully explicit smut (18+ only). Includes heavy fingering focus, orgasm control/overstimulation, possessiveness, roughness, choking, spit, teasing, dirty talk, and reader being called degrading names (slut, whore, etc.). Each member has unique dynamics (soft praise, brat-taming, feral teasing, or harsher words). Degradatory comments. Jay’s (and somewhat Sunghoon’s too) scene in particular contains intense degradation (calling reader weak, pathetic, needy, slut/whore) alongside rough fingering. Please read with caution if that’s not your comfort zone. All scenarios are consensual but very explicit.

ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ

You never should’ve let him catch you whining under your breath about how good his fingers looked. Because now, Heeseung was sitting back on the bed, shirt loose, sleeves rolled to his elbows, smirking like he’d just been handed the easiest game of his life. “You’ve been staring all night,” he murmured, spreading his long legs wide, dragging you into the space between them. “So desperate to know how good my fingers feel? Hm?”

Your cheeks burned, but before you could answer, he grabbed your chin, forcing your lips apart as his other hand slid straight under your shorts. No preamble, no warning, just two long fingers stroking over your soaked folds, collecting everything.

“Fuck,” he whispered with a dark chuckle, coating his fingers and teasing your entrance. “You’re this wet just from looking at me? Pathetic, baby.”

The stretch made you gasp when he pushed both fingers in at once, curling them deep until your back arched. Heeseung never moved fast, his pace was deliberate, measured, dragging his fingers out slow just to slam them back inside and press against that perfect spot that made your vision blur.

“Right here?” he asked calmly, like he wasn’t fucking you with his hand, like he wasn’t wrecking your body with just two fingers. He curled them again, harder, making you cry out. “Yeah… right here.”

Your hips bucked helplessly against his hand, searching for more friction. He laughed, the sound warm and cruel all at once. His thumb pressed down on your clit at the same time, slow circles that made your thighs shake.

“Hee—fuck—please,” you gasped, grabbing at his wrist, trying to control the pace, but he slapped your hand away easily.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, smirk curling into something darker. “You don’t get control here. My fingers, my pace. You understand?”

“Yes—yes, Hee, I understand,” you panted, head falling back as he started pumping faster, fingers pistoning in and out of you, wet sounds filling the room.

His thumb never left your clit, dragging tight, precise circles that had you moaning louder than you meant to. He watched your face intently, biting his lip as your body started to shake.

“Look at you, already close,” he teased, leaning in to kiss the side of your throat, his pace never faltering. “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re gonna cum all over my fingers? That desperate for me?”

You could only whimper and nod, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he curled them relentlessly against your g-spot. The wet, obscene squelch of his hand filled the room, and he growled low in his throat.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, voice sharp, thumb pressing harder against your clit. “Show me how quick my fingers can ruin you.”

The orgasm ripped through you fast, brutal, your legs clamping around his arm as you screamed his name. Heeseung’s fingers never stopped, fucking you through it, curling and pressing until you were squirting all over his hand, soaking his wrist and the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned, pulling back just enough to look at the mess. His eyes darkened as he shoved his soaked fingers back inside you, making you jolt with overstimulation. “You’re dripping for me, God, I could do this all night.”

You tried to squirm away, but he pinned you down with one hand on your stomach, smirking as he fingered you harder, chasing another orgasm immediately.

“Too much? Too bad,” he whispered against your ear, lips brushing your skin as your body convulsed again. “You wanted to know how good I am with my fingers… so now, you’re not cumming just once. You’re cumming until you can’t think straight.”

ᴊᴀʏ

Jay had you flat on your back before you even realized what was happening, his broad frame hovering over you, one hand pinning your wrists above your head.

“You think you can hide how badly you want it?” he growled, his other hand already pushing your panties to the side. His fingers dragged through your slick folds and he smirked darkly at just how soaked you were. “Fuck, you’re dripping, and I haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

He didn’t ease you in. Two fingers shoved deep inside with no warning, the stretch making you gasp. Jay didn’t pause, didn’t give you a chance to adjust, he fucked his fingers into you fast, knuckles slamming against your entrance with every brutal thrust.

“Jay, ahh—” you cried out, hips jerking up against his hand, overwhelmed already.

“Shut up and take it,” he snapped, his thumb grinding down on your clit with cruel precision. “You want to be my slut, right? Then cum for me fast. Don’t waste my fucking time.”

He scissored his fingers wide inside you, the rough drag of his calloused skin against your walls making you see stars. He wasn’t gentle, he curled his fingers sharply against your g-spot over and over, your body trembling violently under his control.

Your moans spilled uncontrollably, head thrashing on the pillow, wrists straining against his grip. “Jay, fuck—too much—” “Too much?” he scoffed, laughing breathlessly. “I’ve barely even started. You’re so fucking weak for me, cumming this quick.” He slammed his fingers harder, faster, your slick dripping down his wrist. “Pathetic little slut, getting off on just my hand.”

The pressure built brutally fast, your thighs shook, stomach tightening, vision blurring as his thumb kept circling your clit mercilessly. “Cum,” he commanded, voice sharp, his pace unrelenting. “Cum all over my fingers like the needy whore you are.”

Your orgasm hit like lightning, screaming, body convulsing as your pussy clenched and squirted around his fingers. Jay groaned low, watching your juices drip down his hand, soaking the sheets beneath you.

“That’s it,” he smirked, slowing only slightly, keeping his fingers buried deep inside as your body writhed. He leaned down, lips brushing your ear as he growled, “And don’t think you’re done. I’ll fingerfuck you again until you’re crying, until you can’t cum anymore. Got it?”

When he started moving again, harder, faster, you knew he meant it.

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ 

Jake’s lips were already sucking bruises into your throat when his hand slipped between your thighs. His voice was wrecked, breathless against your skin.

“Baby, please let me, fuck, I just wanna feel you,” he begged, whimpering when he found how soaked you already were. He pulled back to look at you, pupils blown wide, grinning shamelessly. “God, you’re dripping… all for me?”

Before you could answer, he slid two fingers inside, slow at first, then immediately curling them upward when you moaned. Jake’s groan matched yours like he felt it too.

“Holy shit, yeah, right there? You like that? I can feel you squeezing me, fuck—” His forehead dropped to your shoulder as he pumped his fingers faster, desperate, like every twitch of your walls was feeding his need.

He was sloppy with it, thrusting his fingers deep and hard, but his thumb pressed against your clit with the kind of determination that made your legs shake in seconds. He moaned with every wet sound your pussy made, rutting against the mattress like he couldn’t help himself.

“Cum for me, baby, please—don’t hold it in,” he begged, sucking a bruise just below your jaw. “I need to feel it, need you to soak me—please.”

The way he talked to you, voice needy, sweet, desperate, sent you spiraling. His thumb circled faster, his fingers curling ruthlessly against your g-spot, and the orgasm tore through you embarrassingly fast.

“Fuck—Jake!” you screamed, thighs clamping around his arm as you squirted all over his hand.

His eyes went wide, pupils blown, watching your juices run down his wrist. His lips curved into the filthiest grin. “Holy fuck, you squirted for me. Baby, oh my God, do it again—please, I can make you—”

He shoved his fingers back in, whining as he rubbed his cock against your thigh, already desperate to feel you break a second time.

“Please cum again—I’ll finger you until you’re shaking apart, I swear—I love you like this, fuck, I love making you cum.”

With Jake, it was never just about fingering, it was about how badly he wanted it, how his whole body reacted to your pleasure, how he’d happily finger you for hours if it meant watching you fall apart again and again.

ꜱᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ

Sunghoon had you sprawled across his lap, your back pressed against his chest, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you still. His other hand was already between your thighs, long fingers sliding through your slick folds like he was testing the water.

“Pathetic,” he muttered smoothly, kissing the shell of your ear. “You’re soaking just because I touched you? Haven’t even started yet.” Two fingers sank inside you without warning, slow and deliberate, stretching you until your mouth fell open with a gasp. Sunghoon’s smirk pressed against your cheek. “Tight, too. Perfect.”

His pace wasn’t rough, not yet, but it was calculated. Each thrust of his fingers curved upward exactly against your g-spot, each drag purposeful, his thumb rubbing lazy, precise circles on your clit like he already knew your body better than you did.

It was too much, too perfect, your thighs shook almost instantly, walls clenching hard around his fingers. “Already?” he teased, his voice low, silk and venom all at once. “God, you’re so easy. Barely a minute and you’re falling apart on my hand.”

“Sunghoon—please—” you whined, trying to twist in his grip, but his arm locked tighter around your waist, holding you still. His fingers never stopped, curling ruthlessly against that spot that made your vision blur. “Don’t you dare run from it,” he murmured against your throat. “Take it. Cum on my fingers. Show me how desperate you are.”

Your orgasm slammed into you quick, body arching against his hold as you screamed his name. Slick gushed around his fingers, dripping down his wrist, and he groaned low at the sound of it.

But he didn’t slow down. Instead, he shoved his fingers deeper, thumb rubbing harder, dragging you mercilessly into overstimulation.

“Look at you,” he smirked, his tone cold and amused as you sobbed from the intensity. “Shaking, crying, but still fucking yourself on my fingers. You love it, don’t you?”

“Yes!—oh God, yes—” you choked out, back arching as another orgasm built far too soon.

“Exactly,” he whispered darkly. “You cum too quick, you’re too weak for me. And I’m going to use that against you every single time.”

By the time you squirted a second time, tears slipping down your cheeks, Sunghoon was grinning like he’d won a game only he knew he was playing. He slowed just enough to make you whine, pulling his fingers out to shove them between your lips.

“Clean them,” he ordered, watching with hooded eyes as you sucked them obediently. “Mhm… that’s my good little mess.”

ꜱᴜɴᴏᴏ

Sunoo always had this innocent front, wide-eyed smiles, sweet tone, but when it came to you, he loved nothing more than watching you squirm. “You’re so sensitive today,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear as his hand slips into your panties, two fingers pressing against your slick entrance without even sliding in yet. He chuckles when you whimper, grinding into his palm like a needy thing. “Already dripping and I’ve barely touched you. Cute.”

When he finally sinks two fingers in, it’s slow on purpose, letting you feel the stretch, making your thighs tremble. He doesn’t thrust yet, just curls them gently, dragging them over that tender spot until your whole body jolts.

“There it is,” he smirks, finally moving faster—press, curl, drag. He knows exactly where your spot is, and he won’t give you a single second of relief. His thumb presses into your clit, circles mercilessly until you’re gasping his name, nails digging into his wrist.

“Sunoo—fuck, I’m—”

“Already?” he teases, voice sugar-sweet but dripping with mockery. “You’re going to cum just from my fingers? How pathetic.” He kisses your jaw sweetly as if he didn’t just say that. “Go ahead, angel. Cum for me. I’ll make you do it again right after.”

And you do. Hard. Your legs spasm, pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers that he groans under his breath, eyes dark. But he doesn’t stop. Even as your orgasm rips through you, Sunoo keeps thrusting, curling, grinding his thumb into your clit until tears prick your eyes.

You’re shaking, begging, overstimulated beyond belief, and Sunoo just tilts his head with that wicked smile.

“Mm, I think you can give me one more. Don’t be shy, baby, I like you better when you’re crying.”

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏɴ

Jungwon always starts slow, patient, like he’s savoring the way your thighs tense around him when his fingers just hover at your entrance. His lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Relax for me, baby. Let me in.” And when he finally pushes two fingers inside, the stretch makes your back arch instantly. He smirks against your neck, curling them just right until your hips jolt forward, needy and helpless.

“You like that?” he asks, though he already knows the answer, your moans tell him enough. “Look at you… can’t even sit still. My fingers have you falling apart this easy?”

He sets a rhythm, deep, curling thrusts that drag against your sweetest spot with unrelenting precision. His palm grinds against your clit every time, making your cries sharper, higher, until you’re gasping his name.

“Wonnie—please, I’m gonna—”

“Already?” he smirks, tilting his head so you’re forced to meet his dark eyes. “I haven’t even gone hard on you yet.” His pace picks up, rougher now, relentless, and you can’t help the way your body trembles against him. When you finally cum, he doesn’t slow down. His free hand grips your jaw, forcing your teary gaze to stay on him as you whine through it. “Shh, it’s okay. You can take it. Don’t hide from me.”

The overstimulation has your body thrashing, nails digging into his shoulders, but Jungwon only groans in satisfaction. “So good for me. You’ll cum again, won’t you? You’ll give me another one. My perfect little toy.” And he doesn’t stop until he has you crying his name over and over, legs trembling, pussy clenching around his soaked fingers like you’ll never recover.

ɴɪᴋɪ

Ni-ki’s not gentle. Not even close. From the second he drags you onto his lap, facing him, your thighs spread over his, you know you’re in trouble. His cock is already hard, pressed against your ass through his sweats, but he doesn’t care about that yet. No, he just wants to ruin you with his fingers first.

“Sit still,” he orders, voice low and dangerous, as two of his long fingers shove inside you without warning. Your cry only makes him grin. “Tch. Look at you, already so fucking tight around me.”

You try to grab at his shoulders for balance, but he snaps his free hand around your throat, forcing your back to arch while he pounds his fingers into you mercilessly. His thumb drags against your clit, rough and unrelenting, until your moans spill into his mouth as he kisses you deep, tongue owning you completely.

“Feel that?” he growls against your lips, curling his fingers so hard against your g-spot that your vision whites out. “That’s me. Making you lose it. You’re not cumming until I say so.”

Every thrust of his fingers makes your hips jolt forward, grinding helplessly against the bulge in his sweats, his cock trapped and throbbing against you. He lets out a sharp groan, grinding up into your ass while fingerfucking you harder.

“You’re soaking me, fuck, baby, you’re drenching me just from my fingers.” He pulls back slightly, just to watch the way you fall apart, the way your tits bounce from how rough he’s going. “Pathetic. Can’t even wait for my cock, huh? Already losing your mind.”

You’re babbling his name when he clamps his hand on your jaw, forcing your tear-filled eyes to meet his. “Don’t even think about cumming yet. Hold it.” His pace quickens, brutal now, every thrust dragging a scream from your throat.

When you finally snap, squirting all over his hand and thighs, Ni-ki doesn’t stop, he groans like he’s been waiting for it. “That’s it, fuck—messy little thing, soaking me like this.” He keeps going, making you writhe and cry on his lap, his cock leaking against your ass as he snarls, “You’re not done. I’m not stopping until you squirt for me again.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps pounding into you with his fingers, kissing you deep, grinding his cock against you, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of your ruined body until you’re shaking, broken, and still he’s smirking. “Good girl. You’ll keep taking it, won’t you? As many times as I want.”

masterlist

⟡ @tashmonellloveskpopboybands,⟡ @yuriloveshee,  ⟡ @kookiesnkim, ⟡ @picklemafia, ⟡ @add-this-to-that,  ⟡ @xxjoyridingxx,⟡ @enjakey, ⟡ @noidnoentry, ⟡ @avadie,  ⟡ @enhaheart8, ⟡ @yourislandgirl, ⟡ @meowwwon, ⟡ @saodk  ⟡ @inlovewithparkjisung, ⟡ @verycutesyverymindful,  ⟡ @fleurdelises, ⟡ @tyongielee, ⟡ @amzingjellyfish, ⟡ @enbplvr, ⟡ @6abriellaa, ⟡ @fateismoonstruck, ⟡ @artemesiareads, ⟡ @d0einheadlights, ⟡ @miuuuw,  ⟡ @butwhyareyoureyessosad, ⟡ @rainofcrime, ⟡ @darkblueblueberr, ⟡ @zone444girls, ⟡ @bombombakudanmeow, ⟡ @en-cityy,  ⟡ @koya2000, ⟡ @tttbearblog, ⟡ @yb763, ⟡ @freakseung2001  ⟡ @nics-fxy, ⟡ @irers, ⟡ @seungsoftly, ⟡ @iyaiyaohhh, ⟡ @xnatqq,

✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧

⟡ @rosepetals09, ⟡ @cherry-blossomfrag, ⟡ @mari-marimar,  ⟡ @paradieseoul, ⟡ @microwavedstrawberries3,  ⟡ @thatonerandomblondechick, ⟡ @heebambilee,  ⟡ @simjaeyunsdoll, ⟡ @sinceresilverstrawberry,  ⟡ @heeseungslefttoee, ⟡ @shayinthesims, ⟡ @larichard,  ⟡ @noinspirationkisstoday, ⟡ @frenziedseerdesolation,  ⟡ @wtfisgoingright, ⟡ @heekijakey, ⟡ @luvwonsito,  ⟡ @cheetosthabratt, ⟡ @en-ner-jay, ⟡ @shouldergangsterrj,  ⟡ @brennanmeijalover00,⟡ @wondash, ⟡ @kimuranishi,  ⟡ @thep3rfectgirl25, ⟡ @doraemon02, ⟡ @rotttenhalo,  ⟡ @oldeubois-blog, ⟡ @putrescentpoet, ⟡ @jinnibug, ⟡ @vayuzzz,  ⟡ @kimmyaaaa, ⟡ @ppcarolina9, ⟡ @giagotthezoomies, ⟡ @numberoneheeslut, ⟡ @lovestruck-sky ⟡ @roze-latte-zz

[livlocus]

Love Buzz (Jason Grace x Fem!Reader)

Characters: Jason Grace, Piper McLean, Leo Valdez, Percy Jackson

Requested by @jgraceluvr: Hello may o have a Jason grace fic when the reader had a huge crush on him but don’t make a move because he is the ✨mighty son of Jupiter praetor✨ but in reality he is the biggest softie ever and he is like. Man I want I to ask her out but she is intimidated ? With a piper and Leo match maker ? Please

Summary: Jason Grace has a crush on you, but after a sparring incident, he is much too afraid to talk to you. Unknown to him, you also have a crush on Jason, so Piper embraces her parentage and forces Leo to play matchmaker with her for you and Jason.

Warnings: my grammar, cursing, kissing, crack fic vibes ??? genuinely lost track of where this was supposed to go about halfway through, and now we are here i fear

Word Count: 6.6k (it literally would not stop)

Liv Yaps: heeyyy... so i hope that this has the vibe that you wanted! i'm realizing that this accidentally turned into a crack fic... idk how it got so dramatic but i just could not stop so i fear it spiraled a bit haha i tried my best and it took me a while to fully conceptualize this but then it all like, word-vomited out of me haha. (yes i was in fact listening to love buzz by nirvana while i was making the post so that is the name now, the bassline has infiltrated my brain) i tried to make jason seem all praetor-y but also the true awkward jock-nerd hybrid that we have come to love, i feel like it's kinda ooc.... idk i was on a lot of caffeine when i finally pumped this out haha. i fully made up what the training area at chb looks like, i genuinely have no idea if they ever describe it in the books (im sure that they do and i just don't remember lmao) i also have to apologize for that entire sparring sequence because i have absolutely no clue how to write physcial fighting scenes lmao but i hope that you like it :)

Piper was annoyed. She had just spent the past three days convincing Jason to talk to you, and now here you all were. Jason at the Zeus table eating an embarrassingly plain waffle and stealing glances at you, so quick that they might as well not have been there. His blue eyes narrow and darting from his waffle to you and then back to his waffle. 

Piper was ready to get up from the Aphrodite table and drag Jason from his waffle to you, over at your table, sitting with your siblings. She felt like she was living in one of those sitcoms that her dad just got cast in, watching you two exchange longing glances from across the dining pavilion without the other one noticing. 

You had told Piper about your crush on Jason months ago after you practically tripped over your own two feet to get away from him at the campfire when he tried to sit next to you and Piper. When Piper hit you with a “just talk to him, he literally sat next to us on purpose,” you almost choked on your own tongue trying to explain all of the reasons why the son of Jupiter could never like you like that. 

You knew of Jason Grace, but you didn’t know Jason Grace. He was one of the seven demigods who defeated Gaea, not to mention that he used to be a praetor when he was at Camp Jupiter before the war. He still had that air about him now, even when he was just a camper here at Camp Half-Blood. His shoulders constantly squared, his posture always perfect, that little scar on his lip so rugged, his sky blue eyes gleaming with an inherent authority, like just his gaze demanded your attention and your obedience. It was obvious that his father was Jupiter, the air seemed to practically buzz whenever he was around, and it made your cheeks flush.

Jason had killed titans with his bare hands, or so you had heard. He apparently almost caused absolute chaos in New Rome when he tried to change the name of the Twelfth Legion to the First Legion when he was elected as Praetor. The stories of his quests were practically on level with Percy Jackson, saving the world every summer on the other side of the country, and you didn’t even know about it until the whole Jason and Percy switching debacle a summer or two ago.

But for right now, you were doing exactly what Piper saw, avoiding Jason’s gaze so that you could steal a few glances as you picked at the remains of your breakfast. Each time your eyes met, you practically jumped and averted your line of sight to look at anything else. Suddenly, your now soggy toast seemed to hold the secrets of the universe as you tried to stop the creeping flush that tried to spread across your cheeks. You couldn’t stop thinking about how Jason probably looked at you because of your own staring, that he somehow felt your gaze on his perfect, perfect—stupidly perfect face.

Piper could scream. She could, and maybe she actually would scream if this kept going the way it was. She waved at Leo from across the dining pavilion, a signal to meet her after breakfast. 

She had a plan.

-_-

The mid-afternoon sun was high in the sky, beating down on you as you sat on the ground, gulping water. Piper somehow managed to get your sparing block switched with Leo’s so that you could spar with her. She didn’t tell you that’s why, but that had to be the reason, surely there was no other reason. This did just so happen to be the block that Jason had, but you tried not to think too hard about that, or else you would have fallen flat on your ass the second that you and Piper started to spar with your wooden sword and dagger. 

Piper had exhausted you with endless maneuvering and different kinds of tactics that left you winded and already sore as you held on to your water bottle. You were on the sidelines now, with Piper on your left, watching the other pairs practice different moves and weapons. Three pairs usually went at a time; there were three circles sprayed in the grass, all encompassed by a larger oval. Each pair stayed in their circle, and bystanders weren’t allowed to cross into the oval for “insurance reasons” or whatever Mr. D had said. Right now, there were only two pairs, leaving one of the rings open.

Percy was standing on the other side and ran over to quickly claim the empty ring. He stretched his hand up high in the air, looking off to the side for a specific someone to join him to spar. When you saw that Jason was the one he was waving over, your breath caught in your throat. 

When the others saw that Jason was the one that Percy had waved over, they let out a series of sighs and grumbles, and maybe a few people let out excited murmurs. Whenever Percy and Jason sparred, it always turned into an… event, to say the least, which is why the pairs in the other two rings quickly finished as Jason made his way into the circle with Percy. Their sparring sessions had a reputation for getting out of hand; people always said it was a combination of Percy’s ability to function off of pure spite and Jason’s inability to let himself lose. To say that the two boys had a competitive streak was the understatement of the century.

Before Chiron had to give them limitations to their rounds of sparring, they would exchange blows for upwards of an hour, taking up the entire oval that encompassed the three sparring rings with water splashing, wind blowing, and an occasional clap of thunder somewhere off in the distance whenever Percy got in a good hit. Their matches tended to end in draws, with other campers complaining about how they were taking too long and that others needed a turn.

You watched them as they started to spar, both with wooden swords. Your eyes were glued to Jason, unable to look away from his perfect posture or his sharp eyes. Percy was lunging forward, making the first move with his wooden sword pointed at Jason. As always, Jason’s shoulders were squared, and his face was steady when he dodged Percy’s skillful attempt at him. The only indicator of any physical effort was how his glasses slid down his nose just a bit and how that scar on his lip stretched as his breathing got a bit heavier. That’s how it usually was; no matter how long Jason spent at Camp Half-Blood, his years of Roman training were always blatantly obvious. He was the poster child of restraint, barely even grimacing as Percy threw snarky remarks at him that you couldn’t quite hear.

They went on like that for around twenty minutes, mist started to gather around Percy’s feet, and wind seemed to start picking up around Jason, blowing around not only the hair of the two boys, but also your own. There was that faint buzz in the air that seemed to appear whenever Jason had that look in his eyes. They exchanged blow after blow, neither of them appearing to be slowing down anytime soon. That was, until Jason somehow made eye contact with you from across the field.

-_-

Jason was freaking out. He knew that he shouldn’t have been freaking out, but that wasn’t helping him at the moment as he jumped out of the way of Percy’s wooden sword. 

He needed this sparring match to go well. No, scratch that, he needed it to go better than well, he needed this to go perfectly. This couldn’t be one of those days where he and Percy hit their forty-five-minute sparring limit and had to end in a draw. No, no, he needed to beat Percy, preferably while you were still watching him. Jason had a plan; in his mind, it was a brilliant plan. He was going to win this match and then walk up to you while he was still basking in the glorious win over Percy and ask if you wanted to sit next to him during the campfire tonight. 

You would have to say yes, especially because he would have beaten Percy already. You would say yes, right? Jason knew that he was out of his depth here, he truly had no idea what to do, and that scared him. He was always supposed to know what to do, always supposed to have a next step or a plan B. But whenever he thought about you, his brain short-circuited, all of his functioning brain cells died violent deaths, and his heart just about stopped. You had to say yes. Jason didn’t know any other way to go about this, in all honesty.

When he had gone to Piper in a frenzy, pacing anxiously around the Aphrodite cabin, trying to explain these feelings that he had in his chest whenever he looked at you, Piper literally laughed at him. She had gone, “Jason, that’s either indigestion, or you have a crush on her, maybe it’s both?” Then, when Jason had run his hands over his face and groaned in frustration because why was Piper always so right? She suggested throwing a match with Percy, purposely losing, because she somehow had a vibe (whatever that meant) that you were a teensy bit intimidated by Jason. That it would make him seem less… “Praetor-y.”

Frankly, Jason had never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. He understood why some people would be intimidated by him; some of the legionaries back at Camp Jupiter still gave him that look when he would visit, remembering how he had killed Krios, how that had made him Praetor. But you had never seen that side of him before; you had no reason to be intimidated by Jason, or so he thought. Wouldn’t losing a match against Percy make him look bad? Sure, he had absolutely no idea about how he should ask you out, but that was the last thing he wanted to do right now: look bad, or even worse, weak in front of you. 

And, it was going pretty well, Percy hadn’t managed to land a single hit on Jason. He was going to tire Percy out until he became just a little bit more sloppy, then that would guarantee his win, and that would mean that you would say yes—

You. Jason had managed to dodge another one of Percy’s swings, and the first thing his eyes latched onto was you. Of course, it was you. The gods had a cruel sense of humor sometimes. 

Was there a god of making eye contact with the wrong person at the worst time imaginable? 

If there was, Jason was sure that he had done something to piss them off because why did you have to look at him like that. Like he was holding up the sky, like he was holding up the sky for you. Gods know that he would, though he’s barely even had one full conversation with you, and he would switch places with Atlas in a heartbeat for you. The way that the wind was whipping your hair around your face, how it stuck to the thin, gleaming layer of sweat on your skin—Jason couldn’t help but stare. He really couldn’t help it, that and the way his breath caught in his throat, he couldn’t help it. You might as well have been glowing.

That was his first mistake—although Piper would later claim that it was his fourth—letting himself lock eyes with you for a millisecond too long. Percy undoubtedly saw that Jason was distracted, which was a rare sight in and of itself, and used it to his advantage. He swung his wooden sword at Jason while he was too busy looking at you like some sort of lovesick puppy.

Jason stumbled for the first time in the twenty minutes that they had been sparring, and he cursed under his breath, calling Percy a donkey in Latin. The grunted “asinus,” barely audible over the sound of the wind whipping around his head, filling his ears with the hollow sound of his own loss of self-control. He couldn’t help that either, he was going to look bad in front of you. 

Jason needed to gain control of this match quickly, he knew that, he really did, but he couldn’t stop looking over Percy’s shoulder to try and steal another glance at you. The already loosened grasp that Jason had on his composure was rapidly slipping as he tried to do too many things at once—make sure that Percy didn’t manage to pin him down, think of a quick strategy to somehow win this match, steal a few more quick looks at you, all while trying to stay composed enough so he didn’t look like a complete idiot in front of the entire camp. 

A distant crack of thunder made it unfortunately obvious that Jason was not doing a good job at multitasking at the moment. But then again, maybe he was, because now he had a strategy that he could focus on instead of how your eyes were watching his every move. It was simple, something that he’s done too many times to count in battles that were much more stressful than this. His feet slid in the grass, the dirt having turned into mud. Percy. The mist that was gathered around his feet had soaked the ground, turning the once solid sparring ring into mushy mud that made Jason’s feet unsteady.

Jason leaned to the left as Percy brought his wooden sword towards him, successfully dodging the swing. Jason continued to move, a fluid motion as his composure returned now that he had something besides you to focus on. He lunged at Percy, finally landing a blow to the top of his arm, right below his shoulder, knocking Percy off balance just enough for Jason to get back on level footing with him. 

He did his absolute best to focus on the grin that Percy was giving him instead of the wide-eyed look that you were giving Jason over Percy’s shoulder. Jason was trying so hard to stay concentrated on the way that Percy’s feet were shifting in the mud, like he was about to lunge at Jason again. His eyes darted from Percy to you, back and forth so many times that it almost made him dizzy.

Stop that, she’s watching.

The more that Jason tried to concentrate on the sparring match—the dodging, the swinging, the not slipping in mud—the more he tried to look for you. He wanted to see your face, see what you thought about him. His body was on autopilot, dodging and swinging and blocking without a second thought. The familiarity of his movements allowed him to divert just a sliver of his focus to you, looking for your face among the other campers watching. 

It was a splash of water on the back of Jason’s head as he swung his wooden sword at Percy’s leg that forced him to concentrate, really concentrate. Chiron had made a rule for Jason and Percy when they were sparring: no godly given abilities. No water, no lightning, no wind, no storms, nothing. Jason always tried to follow those rules, he really did, but when Percy decided to disregard Chiron’s rules, Jason was usually left with no choice but to follow suit if he wanted to win. 

Maybe I could manage to focus enough to get a gust of wind to knock Percy off balance? Or maybe even enough to knock him over? 

Another spin around the ring and a bout of eye contact with you derailed his train of thought.

Focus, focus, focus—

Another block.

One more swing.

Maybe a little too much static gathering on the tips of Jason’s fingers—

Two more seconds of his eyes looking for yours.

Focus, focus, breathe—

A quick lean to the left.

He didn’t even notice the buzz in the air, how the hair on his arm started to stand up just enough to mean something, but he was too worried about you watching him to realize what it meant. 

Maybe sweep out Percy’s feet? No, too much mud for that—

A clap of thunder somewhere behind him.

Half a spin to duck out of the way of Percy.

Three more seconds of brief eye contact with you as he blocked with his sword.

A swing of Jason’s sword into Percy’s.

Tiny sparks snapped across his fingers, up his arm.

Negligible.

Jason’s heart was beating so hard he thought it would beat out of his chest. This match essentially had no stakes, no one here was going to die if he lost, no one was going to try to end the world if Jason missed the next swing of his wooden sword. 

But she was watching. 

Jason needed you to see him win so that you would say yes, and then he would get to sit next to you at the campfire and then—

Then, he made eye contact with you again. 

And it looked like you were… blushing? 

Why is she blushing? Did I do something weird? I’m holding my sword the right way, I always do, so it’s not that—

The electricity snapping along Jason’s arms was audible now, the sharp crackling breaking through the thought-spiral he was constructing in his head.

Shit, shit, shit, that has to stop, shit, shit—

Jason could feel himself spinning out, like a spinning top that was losing its speed and was about to fall over and roll away. Percy hit the inside of his knee, and Jason lost his balance. 

One last glance at you before he fell into the mud. One barely audible curse in Latin before all of his dignity left his body, before he accepted his fate of being forever alone, never even able to sit next to you at the campfire. 

One last glance at you before that buzzing in the air and that static dancing across his fingers became a problem. One last glance before that iron grip Jason had on his self-restraint crumbled to dust. One last glance before there was a crack, and there was a patch of burnt grass less than ten feet in front of you.

Jason’s entire face went hot, and he didn’t get up from the mud. He couldn’t get up from the mud, he was going to die here. He was going to pray to Hades that the earth swallow him whole right now. He was going to die of embarrassment before he even made it back to Cabin 1. Jason didn’t even flinch when Percy held the tip of his wooden sword at Jason’s neck to show that he had won. Jason didn’t even raise an eyebrow at Percy when he told the son of Jupiter that he just fried the training grounds like an overcooked fish stick. He was going to let himself grow old and die in this patch of mud. He could practically hear Piper stare at him from across the field. 

That was not how this was supposed to go.

He waited a minute before he turned his head to the side, to see just how horribly he had messed up, but you weren’t even there anymore. Jason let himself sink further into the mud with a sigh that Reyna would have called “pitiful.”

-_-

You didn’t mean to run back to your cabin after almost being hit by lightning, but you needed a nap after that. Maybe a cold shower, too. 

It didn’t really scare you, per se, you had been a summer camper at Camp Half-Blood since you were little, so you were used to having multiple near-death encounters every summer. But it was a little unnerving that your mega-crush had just accidentally sent a bolt of lightning right at you as he lost his sparring match. 

It was obviously an accident, anyone with eyes could tell. Honestly, today was probably going to go down in history as the day that the Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, ex-Praetor of Camp Jupiter, champion of Juno, lost his composure during a sparring match. You didn’t really know why he started sparking like an electric candle lighter, but the fact that he looked right at you when it happened only fed into your delusional fantasy that he might like you back.

As a reward for not melting into a puddle from all of the eye contact that Jason made with you during his match with Percy, you flopped onto your bed. You nuzzled into your pillow, not even bothering to get under the covers in your training clothes. It was gross, but you wanted to fit in this nap before anyone noticed you were gone. 

You drifted off without much trouble, the smell of ozone still fresh in your nose.

-_-

“Get up! I need you to help me with something,” was the first thing that you heard as Piper shook you awake from your nap. 

“Wha—“ your voice was still a bit raspy from your nap, and you had to blink the sleep out of your eyes as Piper practically dragged you upright.

“Wipe your face off, you drooled all over,” Piper was already going through your desk. You didn’t really mind, that was just how being friends with Piper worked. She barged into your cabin and went through your things sometimes, and in exchange, you got one of the best friends you could have ever asked for at camp. You ran your hand over your cheek, effectively getting rid of the dried trail of drool Piper had so gracefully pointed out.

“Oh!” She tossed two tubes at you from your desk, “Put these on before you come and help me.”

Looking down at the two tubes in your hand, you quickly realized that one was mascara and the other was lip gloss.

“Do I really need this, Piper? What do you even need help with?”

“Just trust me! Put it on and then follow me, I need your help!”

You weren’t sure if she was using her charmspeak or not, but regardless, you reluctantly got up from your oh-so-cozy bed and swiped on your mascara and lip gloss. It felt silly to do this now, right before the campfire, where no one would even be able to see your face in the dark. But you let Piper win this one.

“Care to mention what I’m going to be helping you with?” You slipped on your shoes and followed Piper out of your cabin.

“No, not really,” she responded to you, head over her shoulder, tone a bit too matter-of-fact. You pressed your lips together into a tight line and huffed out a breath through your nose in defeat.

Piper led you all the way to her cabin, the Aphrodite Cabin, and right to where her bed was, stopping in front of her closet. 

You looked around, not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you going to tell me now?”

“Yeah, yeah—just look in there for me, do you see that?” Piper reached across you, opening the closet door. The slotted French doors folded open, revealing the clothes and shoes that you had come to know as Piper’s. She pointed to something in the far corner of the closet, but it was too far, too dark to see anything there.

“What are you talking about?” You took a step closer to the closet, leaning in just a little bit to try to get a better look.

“Right there—you’ll see it better if you get a little closer,” Piper insisted, pointing her finger at the corner again, “trust me, you’ll know when you see it. Yeah, see, right there!”

You looked behind you at Piper, making a face as if to ask “literally what the fuck are you talking about?” There was nothing. Piper just shrugged at you and pointed again, telling you to look closer. 

“Piper, I don’t see anything,” you complained, stepping closer to the closet. You might as well have been stepping into it now. You even leaned in, trying to get a better angle to see the corner of the closet, “What are you talking abou—“

That’s when Piper pushed you into her closet.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Piper mumbled as she shut the doors.

“Dude—Piper—what are you doing?” You tried your best to push the doors back open, but there was an audible click.

She locked me in her closet?!?

“Trust me, I promise you’ll be thanking me later!”

“Piper, you just locked me in your closet! There isn’t even a light in here!”

“Give it five minutes, and then you’ll be happy that I locked you in my closet!”

You threw up your hands in disbelief because literally what?

It was dark, and the slots from the French doors didn’t let in much light. The closet really wasn’t that big either. You were standing between Piper’s tank tops, and your feet were on top of a pair of boots.

“This better be good, Piper.”

-_-

Jason was face down in his bed. He was sulking. He was rarely allowed to sulk back at Camp Jupiter, there was too much to do. Because of that, he never got used to sulking. But now, at Camp Half-Blood, there was time to sulk, so that’s what he was doing. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, ex-Praetor of Camp Jupiter, the champion of Juno, was sulking face down in his bed. With a pillow over his head to muffle the sounds of his own breathing and the sounds of the outside world that leaked in through the cracks in the marble of Cabin 1. 

To say that Jason was embarrassed would do the blood pooling in his cheeks a disservice, it would be an insult to his teeth that he clenched just to say that Jason was embarrassed. 

Jason was mortified. 

He had finally figured out how to ask you out, finally—and then he almost fried you like a vendor at a county carnival would do to an Oreo! Jason was never going to leave Cabin 1. 

I am never leaving, I’m going to rot here, never going to see the light of day ever again, never, ever, I am one with my mattress, never going to—

“Hey, Big J!”

Jason just grunted into his covers in response as Leo interrupted the downward trajectory of his inner monologue.

“Why do you look worse than that time Piper had to charmspeak you back to life?”

Jason rolled over on his bed, flopping his arms dramatically. 

“Leo, I almost fried her. She definitely hates me now.”

“Dude, you’re not looking at the bigger picture.”

Jason lifted his head from his bed to look at Leo, raising an eyebrow at him, almost willing him to continue and explain this “bigger picture.”

“You didn’t almost fry just her, you almost fried like, ten other campers that were standing there! So don’t worry about singling her out.”

Jason groaned and put the pillow over his face, blocking out the light.

“You’re not helping me right now, Leo.” Jason’s voice was muffled by the pillow.

“What?” Leo asked in a voice that was probably two octaves higher than his usual voice, “J Man, it’ll be fine. And anyway, Piper needs your help with something.”

Jason lifted the pillow from his head and sat up. Anything to not think about how horribly that had just gone.

“She needs someone who can reach all the way up in her closet to change the light bulb or something,” Leo made a strange face, but the overwhelming need to be useful was overpowering Jason’s better judgment, and he stood up from his bed. 

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Jason ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He didn’t really care that it stuck up, making it look like he was the one who almost got fried.

“Alright,” Leo smiled, it was small and impish. It made Jason do a double-take. “Come on, Sparky, to the Aphrodite Cabin!”

Leo walked out of Cabin 1 with a little too much pep in his step. Jason followed anyway. 

-_-

Jason really didn’t think that Piper would have been able to shove him that hard into her closet, but here he was, face-planting into her graphic t-shirts. And he was stepping on shoes, probably Piper’s shoes, except—except they were your shoes.

Jason’s brain couldn’t keep up with what his eyes were seeing as he adjusted to the dim lighting in Piper’s closet. He heard the door lock, though. It was a clicking noise, followed by some mumbling from Leo about how he had “reinforced the locks” and then some metal clanking.

He could see you now, the light coming through the slats of the closet doors in thin lines on your face, outlining all of the high points of your face. Jason couldn’t help but stare. Again.

You didn’t know what to do. Piper’s grand idea was to lock you in her closet with Jason Grace? You simply stared at the now locked closet doors, then at Jason, and back to the doors. 

“Have fun in there, you two!” Piper said from the other side of the French doors, “We won’t be back until after the campfire—“

“Yeah, so make yourselves busy!” Leo interrupted, and the two of you could hear Piper tell him to shut up from inside the closet. The two of you flushed at the implications.

“—So figure out whatever it is you two have going on before we get back,” Piper continued, “come on, Leo.”

“Hey—don’t grab me so hard!”

Their footsteps and bickering faded away, and you were left locked in Piper’s closet with Jason Grace.

Even in this lighting, while he was struggling to speak coherently, the poised and proper son of Jupiter, now stuttering, was looking almost too good. The flush on his cheeks gave him an adorable boyish look on his usually commanding, stony face.

“Uh—hey… uhm—“ Jason sputtered, his face getting warmer than he would have liked it to be, “I—I’m really sorry about earlier, it was a total accident! I wasn’t even aiming for you, I just couldn’t stop looking at you—er, I mean, I just—“

“Well—you know, I just—it’s okay…” You spoke quietly, afraid that if you spoke any louder, your voice would crack from the nerves. 

He couldn’t stop looking at me.

You and Jason stood in Piper’s closet in an awkward silence. Every time you bumped your elbow into one of her sweaters, it shocked you. You didn’t say anything else, too scared to somehow embarrass yourself in front of Jason. He was just too perfect. The two of you stood there, cramped by hangers and boots, too nervous to speak further. 

“Really?” Jason finally found his words, a bit surprised that you said it was okay that he almost electrocuted you, his voice was probably a little bit too high, “but I—I almost got you—“

“Yeah,” you interrupted him, half expecting Jason to just keep talking because he seemed like when he had an idea, he finished it, but he paused when he heard your voice. Your heart wasn’t threatening to beat out of your chest like it had that one time Jason had tried to sit next to you and Piper at the campfire. He seemed less… formal. Softer, even. It made your cheeks blush. 

He wants to listen to me.

“I mean, you didn’t ‘get me’ and besides, I practically almost die every summer here anyway. Trust me when I say that I’ve come a lot closer to getting killed at camp than almost getting struck by lightning.”

Jason let out an awkward laugh. It was like someone was squeezing his lungs in a vice and squeezing out the pathetic sound the same way you squeeze out toothpaste from an almost empty tube. 

That sounded like a duck, he thought to himself. Jason wanted to shrink down to be small enough to climb through the minuscule slats in the closet door. I bet she thinks that I sounded like a duck just now—

“So you don’t… You don’t despise me for almost—almost electrocuting you?” Jason’s voice was small, almost timid, as he asked you. He was scared, scared that you would say that you were afraid of him, that you didn’t want to be so close to him.

“Oh gods, no! I didn’t—I don’t despise you,” the idea of despising Jason for anything made you almost laugh, but you were too nervous to laugh right now. He sounded too vulnerable, almost… imperfect. “I’m not upset at you for that.”

Jason did his best to search your face in the dark, using the tiny lines of light that filtered in through the closet door, looking for any signs that you weren’t telling the truth. A wrinkle on your forehead, lines on the outside corners of your eyes, a slight tilt to the corner of your lips. 

He couldn’t find any of those on your face, he couldn’t find any indicator that you were lying to him. You really didn’t hate him for what he did during the sparring match with Percy today. Jason had never been so shocked and so relieved at the same time before. He let his eyes travel back down to your lips. 

A mistake.

Jason should not have looked at your lips. They were perfect, and they were glossy. Jason didn’t know how you made them look like that, and when he thought about it too hard, he blushed. This was a bad, bad, bad idea because now that’s all he could look at. All he could focus on now was your lips. All of those years of perfecting his willpower, of chiseling his impeccable composure to be exactly what it needed to be, a perfect mask of marble, wasted. Utterly wasted because you were right in front of him.

The face that Jason was making, brows furrowed, bright blue eyes wide, lips parted just enough to see the glint of his teeth, the scar above his lip catching a bit of the light that filtered in through the doors, and that blush that crept up his neck all the way up to his ears, it all made you weak in the knees. He was looking at you, his eyes boring into your face, drinking up every detail outlined by the thin rays of artificial light that streamed in through the slats of the doors. 

This was real, the way that he was looking at you. Almost too real, you had to remind yourself that you were less than a foot away from each other in Piper’s closet, not some dreamland. That the two of you were stuffed uncomfortably between clothing hangers, shoes, and random sweaters that had fallen on the floor. But you two were so close. That strange, irrational fear you had of the Jason Grace seemed to fall away. He was just a boy, after all. Maybe Piper was right… You wouldn’t tell her that, though. 

“I just—I never do that,” Jason admitted, sounding a bit dazed, still looking at your lips. There was a faint buzzing in the air. Not quite like the buzzing from earlier, not the buzz before a lightning strike. No, this was more mundane, more homely. This sounded like the buzz of a light bulb right before it’s about to blow out, more of a hum, really. 

“That’s alright,” you whispered, feeling a matching flush creep up your neck and make its way to your ears. Your voice was quiet enough that Jason leaned in a bit more so that he could hear you. The humming noise was louder as he got closer to you. That buzz, the humming noise, was coming from Jason. 

You looked up at his face, wide eyes meeting wide eyes. Your hands moved first. They didn’t even have to move that far; the closet was small. A few inches of movement,” and your hands were on his chest. You could hear his breath hitch in his throat, like he was about to jerk away. But he didn’t. Jason just leaned in a bit closer, his hands hesitantly finding their way around you, to your sides. You could feel his breath on your skin. 

“Are you okay if—is it alright if I—“ Jason’s brain was melting out of his ears, and his tongue felt useless, “can I please kiss you?”

The tip of his broad Roman nose brushed against yours as you nodded your head. The Jason Grace was about to kiss you. Your heart was fluttering, and your stomach might as well have been doing parkour. He was so close to you. Jason still smelled like ozone, and you both ignored the humming.

Jason’s eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes and then back to your lips. He moved in to close the gap between the two of you. He could taste the lip gloss you were wearing, but he barely noticed. Jason didn’t even know what planet he was on anymore. You could have told him that he was on the moon for all he cared, as long as this moment never ended. 

His hands traveled slowly up your body, grazing along your t-shirt as his hands found their very natural position on either side of your head, holding it closer to his. You never wanted this moment to end, but unfortunately, your lungs decided that the moment was over. You had to pull your head back just a little bit, enough to suck in a quick breath. 

You could see Jason’s eyes, they were almost entirely black, that sky blue nearly engulfed by his pupils. Both of you were breathing heavily, but that pull was still there. The ever-present, almost magnetic pull that made you reach back up to Jason, connecting your lips for another kiss. It was addicting, filling your brain with fizz, like someone had carbonated your blood.

When your lips were about to meet for a second time, right before they touched, not even millimeters apart, there was a snap, and you pulled away. It felt like you had gotten one of the worst static shocks of your life, but it was from Jason.

“I’m so sorry—I have no idea what’s happening to me—“ he stuttered, his face going even redder. His glasses were crooked now, skewed a bit to the left.

You cut him off with a giggle, because how was this real?

“It’s alright,” you told him, moving your head to the side. You planted a kiss of reassurance on his cheek, leaving a sticky outline of your lips with lip gloss. 

Never in a million years would you have thought that you would be the one to reassure Jason in any scenario. But here you were, hands on his shoulders, smiling at the boy you had thought was almost a god himself, telling him that it was okay that he accidentally gave you a static shock while trying to kiss him.

-_-

Piper and Leo eventually returned to the Aphrodite Cabin after the campfire to let the two of you out of her closet. They were very pleasantly surprised when Leo undid the overcomplicated lock he installed and found that the two of you had, in fact, “made yourselves busy.” The lip gloss stains on Jason’s lips and cheeks were more than enough to tell Piper that you ended up happy after she locked you in her closet. 

Maybe Piper should play matchmaker more often?

tags - @jjsblueberry @somewhereincairparavel

(i know that i don't have an official tag list, i just know that i told you guys that i would tag the two of you when i posted this haha)

Masterlist

[valeisaslut]

Hello my perfect beautiful wife, queen of our suffering

Do you happen to have more background on Joel's relationship with Ellie's mom? 👀👀👀👀👀 I'm curious as fuck

ANDREA MY BELOVED ANGEL. LIGHT OF MY LIFE. KEEPER OF COLLIDE NATION SANITY (or maybe chaos idk). you are not going to believe this—but i actually have a very important conversation between ellie and joel that i had to cut from epilogue pt. 2. yes. deleted. vanished. lost to the tumblr text limit hell. it was so significant to their backstory—especially joel’s history with ellie’s mom—and i was sick to my stomach scrapping it. like actual physical pain. i fought for that scene but tumblr said “500 paragraphs about grief? yes. one more about joel? get fucked.”

i’ve been holding it close because it hurt to lose it from the post, but now that you’ve asked, i’m absolutely going to share it. i want the whole collide nation to see it tbh. because it’s one of those moments that doesn’t just explain things—it grounds ellie’s entire arc. and joel’s love. and how much of that love is actually rooted in loss.

They were sitting out on the porch, again. Two shadows cast by the porch light, two chairs angled toward the tree line, the night thick with the sound of crickets and wind. Ellie had one leg tucked under herself, shirt sleeves pulled over her hands. Joel sat the way he always had: spine straight, elbows on his knees, like his body had learned to hold weight even when it didn’t need to anymore.

She wasn’t smoking tonight. Just watching the stars.

It was quiet when she asked.

“What did she look like?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. He blinked slow, like the question had come from underwater.

“My mom,” Ellie clarified, glancing at him. “What did she look like?”

Joel’s jaw flexed. His hands curled a little tighter around his cup of lukewarm coffee. He stared out into the dark.

“She was beautiful,” he said at last. His voice was low, not sentimental, just honest. “In that careless, dangerous kinda way. Hair like wildfire. Eyes too sharp for her own good. Smiled like she already knew the joke. Always moved like she was halfway out the door.”

Ellie looked down at her knees. Something in her chest tightened.

“Was she… like me?”

Joel was quiet again. Then he shook his head.

“No,” he said. “You’ve got her eyes. Maybe her laugh when you’re really gone. But you—you’re steadier. Even in the middle of a storm, you’ve got a center she never had.”

Ellie swallowed.

“Why’d she leave?”

Joel took a long breath. His gaze drifted, as if the trees might answer for him.

“She was an addict,” he said. “Worse than most. Started with pills, then anything she could find. She tried, I think. For a while. But by the time you were two…”

He paused. Rubbed the back of his neck.

“She told me she couldn’t do it. Said you deserved better than a mom who could barely remember to eat. She handed you over and walked out the door. I never saw her again.”

Ellie was quiet. She let the words sit in her lap like a heavy coat. Then:

“Did you love her?”

Joel hesitated. “I don’t think I even knew what love was back then.”

They sat with that. Then Ellie asked the part that scared her more than any other.

“Did you want me?”

Joel looked at her like she’d just thrown something through a stained-glass window.

He set the coffee down and turned to her fully.

“Ellie,” he said, voice breaking just slightly, “I was in the worst place of my life when you came along. I was rich. Famous. Playing sold-out stadiums every night. And I was dying. Inside. Every day felt like I was being skinned alive under stage lights. The crowd screamed my name, and all I could think was how badly I wanted to disappear.”

She blinked at him, still as stone.

“I was using too,” Joel said. “Not like your mom. Not as wild. But enough. Enough that it made everything quiet. Enough that I was slipping under and didn’t even know it.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at his hands.

“Then she showed up at my door. Drunk. Crying. Holding this little girl with tangled hair and wide eyes. Said, ‘She’s yours. I can’t.’ And she left.”

Joel’s voice cracked then, and he didn’t bother to hide it.

“You didn’t cry. You just looked up at me like… like you already knew I was the only one left. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I mattered. Like maybe I was meant for something other than self-destruction.”

He wiped at his eyes.

“You saved my life, Ellie. Just by existing. Just by looking at me like I could be something better. I got clean for you. I learned how to live for you. I raised you the best way I knew how because you were the only thing that ever made me want to be a man worth raising someone.”

Ellie’s breath hitched.

“So yeah,” Joel said, voice steadying, “when I heard what happened… when they called me, told me you were falling apart—how the hell could I not try to save you? You saved me before you even knew what saving someone meant.”

Ellie didn’t speak. She just stared at him, eyes full, lower lip trembling.

“You never had a choice,” she said finally. “And still… you never left.”

Joel reached across the space between them and took her hand.

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me. And I’d do it again. A thousand times.”

Ellie looked away, blinking back tears, but she didn’t let go. 

She held his hand tight in hers, and finally understood everything. A deep wound inside of her finally stopped bleeding.

sorry for adding to the pain, but thank you for asking this ilysm 🤍

[storiesforallfandoms]

an out there request ~ matthew lillard & skeet ulrich

word count: 4740

request?: yes!

“hi hi hiiiiii, i wanted to start this off with saying am in love with you. like your writing? perfection. the fact you do this for all of us? so gorgeous. this one is weird? kinda, maybe. skeet ulrich x matthew lillard x reader, current time. you go to that convention where you talk and meet them, and you got the thing where you can go back and get a picture with them. you ask them (as respectfully as possible lol) if the pose you guys can do is eiffel tower (your head in one of their crotches and your ass in the others crotch). they’re like shocked and stuff (idk why but i see the reader pulling out their id and being like trust me, i’m of age). banter and them agreeing to it, then when you leave you notice something in your pocket, like a note or something saying one of their room number and smut ensues. thank you”

description: after she makes a lucrative pose suggestion for a picture, she doesn’t expect for that pose to become a reality

pairing: matthew lillard x female!reader x skeet ulrich

warnings: rpf, swearing, smut (threesome, fingering, oral f & m receiving, praise, p in v (protected), multiple orgasms)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I grinded my teeth as the person ahead of me went in for their photo ops. I should’ve been excited. I was meeting two of my heroes. I had spent so much money on the passes, on the hotel and travel. I had waited ages for this day. I should’ve been beyond excited for this moment.

Except I had to ruin it with a stupid bet with my friends that would decide what pose I did for the picture.

A bet which I then lost.

I looked over to where they were waiting for me. They were snickering to themselves. I wanted to glare at them, but my nerves and mortification were the only emotions I could muster.

“Next.”

They waved at me, still giggling to themselves, as I walked in.

My other emotions were immediately replaced with shock when I saw Skeet and Matthew. It was almost like I was only just realizing they were real people. They were laughing when I walked in, and it really did sound like the most beautiful sound. When they saw me, they smiled and I could’ve melted into a puddle right there.

“Hey!” Matthew said first, opening his arms to hug me. I happily walked into his welcoming embrace and immediately thought, He’s just as good of a hugger as the videos make him seem.

Skeet greeted me with a hug as well. I hoped they couldn’t feel how much I was shaking, but I realized they had probably seen that multiple times already.

“Nice to meet you,” Matthew said after I pulled away from Skeet’s hug.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” I admitted. “You guys have probably been hearing that all day.”

“Doesn’t make it any less meaningful to hear,” Skeet said.

 “Let’s pose, guys, we have a line up,” the photographer said. He sounded bored, like he was tired of having this same scene play out over and over all day.

The mention of the photo made my body tense as I remembered what pose I was meant to do. I felt my mouth dry up as I was meant to explain to my two idols what I wanted to do for our pose. They were probably going to kick me out without taking the photo. I’d probably be banned from all celebrity meet and greets for life (even though that made no sense).

They were both looking at me. I had to swallow my fear quickly and just get through this.

“Okay, so...here’s the thing.” I took a deep breath and said, “Ineedtodotheeiffeltowerpose.”

Both smiles turned to confusion.

Just say it, get it over with.

“I made a stupid bet with my friends, and I lost, so they made the decision on what pose for me to do here.” I had to force the words out, “Eiffel Tower.”

Matthew and Skeet looked at each other. My heart had started to pound so hard that my vision was blurring. I quickly fumbled for my wallet and pulled out my ID. “I’m over 18, I swear. It’s just from a bet. I tried to say no, but my friends wouldn’t let me off the hook. They said they need to see the proof too...”

I trailed off as I realized I was rambling. My face was on fire with embarrassment. I just wanted to disappear, or cease to exist. I’d never forgive my friends for ruining something so important for me. My first time meeting two people who were so important to me, and they were going to think I was a sex pest or something.

“Okay.”

I blinked. “What?”

Skeet shrugged. “A bet is a bet. I’m fine with it. How about you, Matt?”

Matthew nodded. “Let’s do it. It’ll be the most creative pose I think we’ve ever done.”

I couldn’t believe they agreed. I thought it was some kind of joke. It wasn’t until they moved to either side of me, and Skeet asked, “Which of us is where?” that I realized they were seriously doing this; I was seriously doing this.

I turned to face Matthew, with Skeet behind me. Matthew held my arms as I leaned forward, not enough for my head to fully be in his crotch but enough for the sake of the pose. Skeet put his hands on my hips, keeping a respectable distance from me as well.

“Smile,” the camera guy said.

I smiled through the burning feeling of embarrassment in my face. At the same time, I couldn’t lie and say this wasn’t a turn on. I had definitely read Stu and Billy fanfiction that included this pose, so my mind was wandering to dangerous places.

The camera flashed a few times, and then it was over. I pulled away from them very quickly, trying not to be as awkward as I felt. Matthew and Skeet hugged me again, and I thanked them for going on with my crazy request.

My friends were waiting with smirks on their faces as I walked through the exit.

“How’d it go?” one asked. “Did you do it?”

“I did,” I responded, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “I think I have to wait for the physical copies, but I can prove I did it.”

We went to the part of the photo op where the pictures are done off. My friends asked me about the experience and I relayed the entire moment to them. I thought they’d be skeptical of what I was saying, but they hung on every word I said and were just as excited as I had been during the interaction. One of them made a joke that I must’ve made Skeet hard by “shoving my ass in his crotch”, but I told her that was inappropriate and there was no way it had happened.

The photo person called my name and passed me an envelope. I pulled out the print of my photos and my friends flocked to see it. They gasped and giggled as if we were teenagers still. I couldn’t help but blush at the picture, though. I originally thought this was going to ruin my one chance at meeting my idols, but in the end it seemed like it was going to be a funny story. I may actually even frame the photo for the memory.

My friends started walking towards a booth they had wanted to visit. I trailed behind them, putting the photos back into the envelope. That’s when I felt something on the back. When I flipped the picture over, I found a Post-It note. The note read, “If you feel comfortable, meet us in our hotel room tonight”, along with an address.

My face was burning again. There was no way this was real. This could not be the actual address for the actual hotel where actual Matthew Lillard and Skeet Ulrich were staying. There was also no way that actual Matthew Lillard and Skeet Ulrich were suggesting what I think they were suggesting.

I put the picture back in the envelope and pocketed the note as I went to catch up with my friends. I could feel the weight of it in my pocket, but I kept trying to forget about it. It couldn’t be real, and if I went to the hotel I’d probably find some weirdo instead of the two men I’d expect - or hope. It’d be a bad idea to go to that address.

~~~~~~

Well, the address was a hotel at least.

I knew I was crazy for showing up here. Anything could happen to me. Anything bad. I hadn’t told my friends about the note because I knew what their responses would be, so they didn’t know I was here. It was a stupid decision all around, but the curiosity was getting the better of me.

My heart was pounding as I took the elevator up to the floor I was directed to go to. It was making my vision blurry to a point where I almost couldn’t read the numbers on the doors. I was having deja vu to meeting Skeet and Matthew earlier. I lifted my hand to knock and paused only briefly to question whether or not this was a good idea. I knew the answer was no, but there was no going back now.

When the hotel door opened, I almost passed out.

Stood there was none other than Skeet Ulrich.

He was grinning at me in a sexy way. “We were wondering if you were actually going to come.”

“Well, you can’t blame a girl for being cautious.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I figured. I told Matt the note was a little ominous, but we couldn’t exactly say anything in front of the camera guy. That’s not something we want to get out to the public.”

That just raised more questions, but I didn’t want to take up too much time just talking in the hallway. Skeet stepped aside to let me in. I was very aware of how close he was as I passed him, but I tried not to think too much about it.

I was expected a huge hotel suite since they were two big actors and all, but was pleasantly surprised to see that it was just a two bedroom, one bathroom hotel room with a small balcony. Matthew was laid back on one of the beds, watching TV. He looked up when he heard me walk in and smiled as if he was seeing an old friend. “Hey! You’re finally here!”

The reality of the situation was setting in. I was starting to feel a little lightheaded. They both must’ve noticed, or they knew how overwhelming this was going to be in general, because Skeet took my hand and guided me to the bed Matthew was sat on. Matthew sat up to put a comforting hand between my shoulder blades.

“This is a lot, we know,” he said. “You can ask whatever questions you need to ask.”

“Do I have to sign an NDA?”

I cringed at myself while Matthew and Skeet seemed amused. It definitely was not my biggest question, but it was the first one that slipped out through my filter.

“We didn’t tell either of our agents that we were doing this,” Skeet said. “So no NDAs are drafted. Is that a bad idea? Very much so, yes. But I also know our agents definitely would not want us to be doing this in general, so they’d probably try to talk us out of it instead of writing up any sort of NDA.”

“So...you’ve never done this before?”

“Not with a fan,” Skeet responded. “We have had threesomes before, but usually with girlfriends.”

“One time with a co-star,” Matthew added. “Not as awkward as most people make sleeping with a co-worker seem.”

Part of me wanted to ask which co-star, but that really wasn’t the most important thing right now. The most important question to me was, “Why me?”

The two of them shared a look. I couldn’t read what their expressions were saying, but there was definitely some shared thought process passing between them.

“Like I said, we’ve never done this with a fan before,” Skeet started. “Obviously there’s all sorts of power imbalance issues with that, and we don’t want anyone to think we’re using our star status to have sex. Because we’re not, and we don’t want that.”

“But there was something about you that made us go against that,” Matthew added.

I felt my face heating up again as I asked, “Was it the pose?”

Both men barked a laugh at the same time. I couldn’t help but smile as well. Despite the nervousness I was feeling, they were making me feel somewhat calm as well. Outside of the cameras and the long line of fans and the convention photo op, they felt like real people. Just two guys who were friends, who were asking a girl they just met for a threesome.

Okay, the nerves were back now.

“The pose definitely helped,” Matthew said. “But you are also very attractive, and you were very kind. It was hard not to think about making this proposition after you had left.”

This is a dream. I’m dreaming. I actually fainted before the photo op and now I’m dreaming.

Skeet sat down on the bed next to me. “This is all your choice. Please do not say yes just because we’re famous. If you’re uncomfortable at all, we’ll let you go. Trust us, we get that this is probably a lot to handle. Like I said, we’re not about to use our celebrity status just to get sex if you don’t want it.”

I could tell they were being sincere. I actually did have an out if I wanted one. And that was definitely comforting because I was still feeling very conflicted. None of this felt real, and I was almost inclined to turn it down just due to that fact.

But also, I had been crushing on these two actors since the first time I watched the original Scream. I had read so much fanfiction about their characters, stuff that involved situations like this. I’d been fawning over them for years. How stupid would I be if I let this opportunity pass by, even if I wasn’t able to tell anyone? Hell, I probably wouldn’t tell anyone anyways. This would be my little secret; something just for me.

Finally, I found my voice to tell them, “I want to.”

Skeet and Matthew shared a look. They had similar smirks on their faces, and I couldn’t help but wonder what I had gotten myself into.

“If you want to stop at any point you have to tell us,” Skeet said to me. “Promise us that.”

I nodded, but Skeet shook his head. “No, we have to hear you say it.”

“I-I promise I’ll tell you i-if I want to stop.”

Matthew’s voice was closer to my ear than I anticipated as he said, “Good girl.”

The combination of his words and his hot breath against my skin caused my to clench my thighs together. A whimper slipped from my lips as I felt him start to kiss against my neck. I lulled my head to the side, giving him full access to whatever he wanted, and closed my eyes to let myself get lost in the pleasure.

It didn’t take very long for me to forget the entire situation at hand. A fog of lust had washed over me enough to finally let my nerves subside. So, I wasn’t thinking much about who owned the set of hands that was unbuttoning my jeans, but rather how much I wanted them off and to feel those hands against me.

Someone - I’m assuming Skeet as I could feel Matthew’s hands against my waist - pulled my pants down my legs. Once they were gone, Matthew wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his lap. I gasped as I felt the already hard bulge in his pants against my back. He continued to kiss over my neck as one of his hands slipped under my shirt, teasing the underside of my bra, while the other made its way between my legs. My head lulled back against Matthew’s shoulder as his fingers lightly skimmed over my already damp panties.

“Already so wet,” he commented. “Just for us?”

“J-Just for you,” I moaned. I’d probably be embarrassed by how needy I was if I wasn’t so turned on.

His fingers traced over the waistband of my panties before he slipped his hand underneath them. He rubbed agonizingly slow circles on my clit while his lips still went to work on my neck. He sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin, undoubtably leaving marks I wouldn’t be able to explain. I arched my back, pushing myself further into him and his fingers further against me.

Matthew chuckled. “I think she’s eager.”

“Should give her what she wants, Matt,” Skeet said. I had almost forgotten he was there.

“Is that what you want, pretty girl?” Matthew asked me. “Do you want my fingers?”

“Yes,” I breathed. “Y-Yes, please.”

“How do I say no when you’re using your manners?”

He started with just one finger, slowly pushing into me. I let out a loud moan, but quickly covered my mouth with my hand as I remembered where we were.

Skeet chuckled this time, before saying, “Be as loud as you want. There’s no one else around us. We’ll give the staff a good tip just in case there’s any noise complaints, though.”

They didn’t really give me much choice on my volume, as Matthew added another finger after stretching me out with the first, and started thrusting them in and out of me at a quick pace. The sinful sounds of squishing mixed with whatever was tumbling out of my mouth filled the room. The heel of Matthew’s hand worked against my clit, edging me closer and closer to the edge.

I opened my eyes just for a moment, and saw that Skeet was now stood in front of us. He was watching Matthew make me come undone, and I noticed he had one hand against his crotch, palming himself through his jeans. I had never thought much about threesomes before, mainly because I hadn’t ever felt confident enough to bring a third person in to the bedroom in any of my relationships. But there was something extremely hot about watching Skeet get turned on by watching Matthew and I. It turned me on more to realize I’d be getting my time with him too.

My first orgasm hit me with little warning. One second I felt it creeping up, and the next the wave of pleasure was crashing down on me. My body trembled as I leaned against Matthew for support. He slowed his fingers, letting me ride through my high. When he slipped them out of me, I whimpered from the loss of contact.

I lazily turned my head to watch Matthew bring his fingers to his lips. He slipped them into his mouth, sucking off my remaining juices.

“She tastes so good, Skeet,” he said. “You should taste her.”

I thought for a second that Skeet was going to put Matthew’s fingers in his mouth, which would’ve been extremely hot. Instead, he got to his knees on the foot of the bed where Matthew and I were sitting. Matthew let me go so that Skeet could pull me to the edge of the bed. He pulled my soaked panties off and discarded them somewhere in the room. I could feel his warm breath against my still sensitive core, sending a shiver through my body. He leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe from my hole to my clit. My body jolted at the contact, still recovering from my first orgasm.

“She does taste good,” Skeet said.

I felt Matthew’s hands on the hem of my shirt. I lifted my arms over my head to let him pull it off me. With little effort, Matthew unclipped my bra as well, and it fell to my lap. I was officially completely bare to the two of them.

Matthew stood from the bed as Skeet started kissing over my thighs. First my inner right thigh, then the left, moving slowly up to my mound, to my stomach. He took his time leaving a trail of kisses up my stomach and to my breasts. He took one of my nipples in his mouth, running his tongue over the sensitive nub, while my other nipple was pinched between his fingers. I was moaning again, my body reacting by somehow becoming even wetter between my thighs. There was still a dull ache from my first orgasm, but it was quickly going away.

I heard the rustling of clothes and opened my eyes to see Matthew undressing himself. He was unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the floor, and his hands had just moved to discard his own pants when he caught me looking. A sly smirk crossed his face as he winked at me. At the same time, Skeet nipped at the skin of my breast, making me yelp.

When Matthew was left in nothing but his boxers, he said, “Seems you’re the only one left completely dressed, man.”

Skeet pulled away from me. He took a moment to look over my completely naked form before looking at Matthew. “Sorry, I was enjoying myself too much.”

As Skeet started undressing himself, Matthew extended a hand to me. “Are you able to move? Or should we just take you like that?”

“How do you want me?” I asked. I was surprised with how steady and strong my voice sounded given how the two of them had somehow already managed to ruin me.

“The Eiffel Tower seems fitting.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I took Matthew’s hand and he helped me get up and to my knees. Skeet had stripped down, leaving him completely naked, while Matthew was still in his boxers. “Looks like you’re the last one clothed now, Matt.”

When Matthew took his boxers off, I couldn’t help but stare at him and Skeet for a while. They were definitely both packing, which was a little intimidating. Not like I hadn’t been with well endowed men before, but still.

“Should we take our positions from the photo?” Skeet asked Matthew. “You take the front, I’ll take the back?”

“Sounds good to me.” Matthew, who was already stood near my face, reached down to cup my chin. “Are you okay with that?”

I nodded. I was glad when they didn’t try and make me verbally respond again because I was sure I had officially lost my ability to speak.

Matthew held the base of his dick, pumping it slightly, as he moved closer to me. He waited until I pulled him closer and opened my mouth to take him in, not trying to rush me or shove himself down my throat. He let me take my time, filling my mouth with as much of him as I could. I placed my tongue along the underside of his cock as I slowly slid him into my mouth. He threw his head back and let out a moan. I got as far as I could go without gagging and stayed there just long enough to adjust to having his size in my mouth. One of his hands made its way into my hair, tangling the strands around his fingers, but he didn’t start moving my head. He kept me there, letting me set the pace.

I started bobbing my head up and down, slipping him most the ways out of my mouth before sliding him all the way back in. I did it at a slow, almost teasing pace. Matthew’s hand twitched against my head, like he was restraining himself from making me go at a pace that he actually wanted. I looked up at him through my eyelashes. His head was tilted down to look at me again, but his eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly ajar in pleasure.

Skeet was watching us, fisting his own dick at the sight. I had gotten so caught up in watching Matthew as I pleasured him that I didn’t notice Skeet moving to the bed until it dipped behind me. I gasped as I felt the hot head of his cock dragging through my folds. When it nudged against my entrance, just an inch pushed inside of me, I couldn’t stop myself from moving back against him and taking the rest of him in.

“Eager girl,” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t forget about Matt.”

“I don’t mind watching her be eager for your cock,” Matthew said.

I took Matthew back in my mouth as Skeet slowly started to thrust into me. I tried to keep a steady pace with my head, but I soon found myself more focused on the pleasure from Skeet’s cock dragging against my walls than the pleasure I was supposed to be giving Matthew. I was moaning around him, which in turn was making him moan. He used my hair to guide my mouth up and down his shaft so that I didn’t have to concentrate on doing it myself.

Eventually, Skeet start to thrust a bit more rough into me so that I was moving against Matthew with each thrust. Both men were moaning and grunting in time, the noises sounding like music. My brain had been completely taken over by the lustful fog and I couldn’t think about anything but the feeling of being full with both of their cocks. Matthew’s hand tightened in my hair and I felt his cock twitching in my mouth, signaling that he was getting close.

As if also sensing Matthew’s closeness, or maybe he was also getting close himself, Skeet reached around to find my clit. He started rubbing harsh, quick circles into my sensitive nub. My arms were starting to tremble from the effort of keeping myself up, while the rest of my body was trembling with pleasure. My second orgasm was coming on and I knew it was going to hit just as hard as the first one did. I was about to take Matthew’s cock out of my mouth to tell them both I was going to cum, but Skeet began to thrust rougher into me, sending me over the edge quicker than anticipated. I cried out, mostly muffled by Matthew’s dick. Skeet thrust into me one more time, shoving me forward so that Matthew was down my throat. I felt Skeet pulsing inside of me and he let out a loud groan, meaning he had came as well. Matthew was the last of us, shooting his load down my throat seconds after Skeet had cum inside of me.

Matthew pulled out first and I swallowed him down. I lowered my front half onto the bed, finally allowing my arms some rest. Skeet took a second to ride out his own high before pulling himself out of me and letting me completely collapse on the bed. I lazily turned my head to watch as he pulled something off of his dick, and then realized it had been a condom. I hadn’t even noticed him put one on, or the feeling of a condom while we were fucking, but that made sense for him to protect himself, and me.

Matthew had gone to the hotel bathroom and came back with wash cloths for all three of us. I slowly rolled onto my back and took one from him.

“I should’ve asked before finishing in your mouth,” he said. “Sorry about that.”

I waved away his comment. “Don’t worry. You wouldn’t be the first one to cum down my throat unexpectedly, although this was definitely the better of the other times it’s happened.”

Matthew chuckled. “I can only imagine. I don’t think I want to hear those horror stories.”

“You definitely don’t want to.”

After cleaning myself up, I slowly brought myself to a sitting position. I looked around the room to see if I could find my discarded clothing, but found that all of our stuff had basically been thrown around together.

“You don’t have to get up yet,” Skeet said. “You’re more than welcome to stay for a while.”

“You guys don’t wanna kick me out right away?” I asked.

Skeet shook his head. “This isn’t that kind of situation. You can stay overnight if you want to, and then you can go again in the morning.”

“I kind of want room service,” Matthew said. He had his boxers pulled back on and was looking at the room service menu. “Are you guys hungry? We could order a feast.”

I picked my shirt up off the floor and pulled it on just to have myself clothed. I sat on the bed across from Matthew and took the room service menu to look over. Skeet, also now in his boxers, sat in the bed next to me to look at the menu over my shoulder.

No one would ever believe what happened here, but that was fine by me. I was more than okay with this being my dirty little secret, with the only evidence being the hickies on my neck and the Post-It note that was still tucked away with my picture.

[angel-sweets666]

stuck together

Barbarian bakugo x princess! Reader

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin. CHAPTER TWO HERE

warnings and stuff inside of the story: talks of virginity, talks of a virginity check (its accurate to the time period ok?) a/n should I make this a series? I think it’d be fun but idk ur rich btw so just like there’s rich stuff.

THE FULL VERSION IS OUTTT, truely ask and you shall receive. Anyways this is the full edited and lengthened part one I hope it’s better then the sneak peak I gave you guys

AGED UP

Mitsuki leaned back, her piercing gaze fixed on your parents. "So, what do you say? You give us your daughter, and we'll form an alliance," she proposed, pausing for their response. "It would offer protection from the Todoroki kingdom Flamoria, no?" The blonde woman smiled at your father, trying to sway him.

Flamoria had a habit of attacking your home kingdom, however in recent years the bakugos have managed to not only defeat the todorokis but make their kingdom subservient to them.

Your mother hesitated. "I mean, I dunno…"

"We'll do it," he interrupted, cutting off your mother.

"Huh?!" Your mother turned to him, shock evident on her face.

"Perfect. Sign here," Mitsuki said smoothly, handing them a piece of paper which already had both mitsuki and masarus names written down. It was a betrothal agreement, arranging the marriage between you and her hot-tempered son, Bakugo.

Your father reached for the pen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. "This will secure our safety and ensure a powerful ally," he murmured, almost convincing himself as much as anyone else.

"But our daughter…" your mother started, her voice filled with concern and disbelief. She looked at Mitsuki, then back at your father, torn between the political necessity and the love for her child.

"We don't have a choice," your father replied firmly, signing the paper. "This alliance is crucial for our kingdom's survival. The Empyrean empire is strong.”

Mitsuki's smile widened as she took the signed document. "Excellent. You won't regret this. Bakugo will make a fine husband, many heirs will come from this, she is a virgin right?” The blonde asks “we can get her checked for it, *name* was very sheltered growing up so we can assure you she’s a virgin.” Your father explains, leaning back in his own squeaky wooden chair. His gaze turns to your mother, who seems distraught about marrying off her child to the barbarian prince. Someone famous for being a violent person.

at 17 years old bakugo had brought back the head of a powerful tribe leader and put it on a stick for everyone to see, at 18 years old he had gathered a small army of men and defeated the midoriya kingdom and had a bloody cloak from the one of the dead soilders to prove it. Then at 20 years old bakugo had forced izuku, the Feywood king to surrender his crown. Which put feywood in the empyrean empire. No one knows where izuku midoriya currently is, all the people know is that he was last scene getting dragged by his green locks by bakugo and was never seen again.

Later on

“YOU ARRANGED ME TO WHO!?” You screamed, staring at your parents in complete horror. How could they do this to you? You make one wrong move and your own husband would order your death! “Look it’s not so bad..” “NOT SO BAD? HES KILLED HUNDREDS! THOUSANDS EVEN” “He won’t kill you though!” Your father exclaimed, An attempt to calm you. “Look, bakugo may seem like a man killing war machine of a prince but his parents assured us that he’s very gentle with women.” You scoffed, leaning your weight to one hip “bullshit. He’s gonna kill me. Brutally, he’s gonna hack off my head just you watch”

Over the next few weeks, you tried everything to call off the arrangement. You attempted to run away before the virginity check, faked illness, and came up elaborate excuses. Nothing seemed to work. Your parents were stubborn, insisting that you marry Katsuki Bakugo for the strength of their own kingdom.

Lying in bed, you tossed and turned, unable to escape the looming dread of marrying the great, scary barbarian prince, soon to be barbarian king. What if he rips your head off just because you refuse to give him a kiss? The thought made your heart race with fear.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. A maid entered, her eyes gloomy with pity . "Your Highness? Tomorrow we will wake you early to help you begin packing for the travel to the Empyrean Kingdom," she said softly, her voice trembling as she tried to avoid any kind of trouble.

You groaned and turned your head toward her. "When am I being sent to them?" you asked

"U-uh, most likely the day after tomorrow," the maid stammered, clearly uneasy with your distress.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your impending fate settle even heavier on your shoulders. "I see… thank you," you muttered.

You looked back at the red headed maid “How far is the journey?” You asked her softly, she fidgeted with her fingers “a-about two days, they live f-far from our kingdom your highness” she stammered. You smiled to the red head and dismissed her.

As she left you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. The thought of being married off to someone you had never met, someone with a terrifying reputation, filled you with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Your parents decision felt like a betrayal, a sacrifice of your happiness for the supposed greater good of the kingdom

You stood in the corner of your large room, watching as numerous servants took gowns, corsets, shoes, and other clothing items, placing them into bags. "U-uh, don’t barbarians wear less formal clothes? Shouldn’t I bring less?" you asked the maids. All of them turned to look at you, a hint of surprise on their faces.

"Her Highness makes a point," the same red-headed maid from the night before whispered to an older maid. The older maid, seemingly more experienced, turned toward you with a thoughtful expression.

"You're right, Your Royal Highness. They would probably end up burning these clothes or turning them into barbarian-styled garments," she conceded.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in resignation. "What do barbarian women wear?" you asked the older maid, hoping for some clarity.

"Hm… flowy skirts, I’ve seen a few wear headdresses," she replied, as some of the gowns were hung back up in the closet. The maids began to sift through your belongings, selecting items that might be more appropriate for your new life.

As you watched the process, you couldn’t help but glance out the window. Your mother and father were walking in the garden, deep in conversation. They seemed so in love, so perfectly matched, yet they were throwing you into a marriage that promised nothing but misery. The contrast between their happiness and your dread was almost unbearable.

"Your Highness, we’ll pack lighter, more practical clothing for your journey," the older maid reassured.

"Thank you," you murmured, though your heart wasn't in it. The thought of being dressed in unfamiliar clothes, adapting to an unknown culture, and being wed to a man you feared only added to your anxiety.

As the servants continued their work, you wandered over to your bed, sinking down onto the edge. The weight of your impending departure pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You had grown up surrounded by luxury and love, and now you were being sent away, to marry probably the most violent man you’ve ever heard of

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the future that awaited you. Would you ever find happiness in the Empyrean Kingdom? Would Katsuki Bakugo, the fierce and terrifying prince, ever come to care for you, or would you be nothing more than a means to an end?

"Your Highness, is there anything else you would like us to pack?" one of the younger maids asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, wiping away a stray tear. "No, just… make sure to leave out a few comfortable things for me to wear until we leave."

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied, her expression sympathetic.

As the maids continued their preparations, you lay back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, knowing that soon you would be leaving them behind.

"So, what's the barbarian kingdom like?" you asked, looking over to the maids. The older maid once again turned her head to look at you.

"Most of the people live in either big wooden houses with all sorts of weapons around or in these hut-like tent things. Either way, they have all these symbols painted on them," she described, clearly having been to the Empyrean Kingdom before.

"And what about the Bakugos? Where do they live? You asked

"They live in a stone castle with intricate paintings on it, and there's a lot of security. The last time I was there, they had spikes on the bridge leading to the castle, with people's heads mounted on them," the old maid replied,

"How long ago were you there?" you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine at the gruesome detail.

"When the young prince was about fifteen, so around five years ago," she said, placing one last corset into a bag.

You glanced at the six bags of items packed for your journey, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. It was a smaller amount than you had anticipated, yet it seemed to signify the end of one life and the beginning of another.

"Did you meet the prince?" you asked, trying to glean any information that might help you understand the man you were to marry.

"Briefly," she replied, her expression softening. "He was intense, even as a teenager. Always training, always pushing himself. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a loneliness."

You sighed, trying to reconcile the image of the fierce, terrifying prince with the glimpses of vulnerability the maid described. "And the people there? How are they?"

"Fierce, proud, and loyal," the older maid said. "They value strength above all else, but they also have a deep sense of honor and community. If you earn their respect, they'll defend you with their lives."

The more you learned, the more daunting your future seemed. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing that the barbarian kingdom, despite its harsh exterior, had its own codes and values.

As the maids continued their work, you tried to imagine what life in the Empyrean Kingdom would be like

"Is there anything else I should know?" you asked, your voice softer, almost hesitant.

The older maid paused, considering your question. "Just remember, Your Highness, that if you respect them and they’ll respect you."

Her words resonated with you, giving you a small but vital sense of empowerment. You nodded “alright, seems easy enough..”

The day that you needed to travel to the empyrean kingdom came, your parents watched you walk to the carriage by the gate as your mother sobbed into your fathers chest.

The ride to the Empyrean Kingdom was grueling. As the carriage rattled over uneven roads, you gazed out the window, the lush greenery of your homeland gradually giving way to the rugged, bushy but covered in tall trees landscape of the barbarian territory. The closer you got, the more your anxiety grew, each kilometre bringing you closer to the empyrean land

When you finally arrived at the castle, you were struck by its threatening look. The stone walls were decorated with weird red painted symbols, and the spiked bridge, as described by the maid, loomed menacingly ahead. Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the carriage, taking in the harsh surroundings.

A group of stern-faced and very attractive guards escorted you inside. The castle's interior was as intimidating as its exterior—dimly lit, with weapons and trophies of past battles displayed prominently on the walls. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you were led through the cold halls. You swore that if you listened close enough you could hear peoples screams in the dungeons below. Fuck was this hell with its 7 rings?

Finally, you were brought to a large chamber where a tall, muscular figure stood with his back to you. His spiky blonde hair was unmistakable. He was busy looking at a sheet of paper, the one oddly similar to the ones your parents shown you when they first announced your betrothal to bakugo. As he slowly turned to face you, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. He looked almost angry at you, furious even. Which was confusing because you’ve known this man for a whole 10 seconds

he was tall and about 6ft with messy blonde hair, scars all over his body and face, and piercings on his ears and lip.

"So, you're the princess they sent," Katsuki said, his voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression one of barely concealed annoyance. Katsuki had a deep voice that you couldn’t tell if you found attractive or if you wanted to run away and hide.

You straightened your back, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. "I am," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady but it ended up sounding shaky.

Bakugo scoffed, looking you up and down as if to check if you were just a weak small baby or strong enough to be a wife and a queen “Great. Another weakling to babysit," he muttered under his breath.

Anger formed within you at his dismissive attitude. "I am not a weakling," you snapped. "And I am certainly not here to be babysat."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see about that," he said, turning away from you. "Follow me. There's no point in wasting time."

You clenched your fists, biting back a come back to insult him with as you followed him through the castle. Every step echoed in the vast, cold corridors. His steps much louder then yours due to his much larger frame

Bakugo led you to a large hall where a group of people—presumably his advisors and some of the castle staff—were gathered. He introduced you curtly, barely sparing you a glance as he did so. The looks you received ranged from curiosity to outright hostility, they clearly didn’t want you here. Just like the old maid back had home had warned, these people hated the weak.

After the introductions, Bakugo dismissed everyone, including you. "You'll be shown to your chambers. Don't get in my way or else," he said, theblonde clearly trying to end the conversation between you two before he could get sucked into some conversation he didn’t waht

You followed a servant to your chambers, a mix of anger and sadness within you. The room was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle, but it did little to lift your spirits. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of your new reality settle over you.

Over the next few days, you tried to find your place in the castle. The people were distant and wary, their lack of trust clear in their every interaction with you. And Bakugo… he was even worse than most . He ignored you most of the time, and when he did speak to you, it was with a cold, dismissive tone that made your blood boil. He always had a tone of sass, trying to get under your skin constantly.

as the days grew closer and closer to your wedding date he seemed to just get more and more annoying, constantly having some tone of sass. Never wanting to talk to you and constantly flirting with your maids, you even went the effort to fire atleast 4 of them to keep their grotty hands to themselves.

“you done firing my staff now?” Bakugo grumbled as he caught up with you in the stone candle lit halls “your staff? You mean my staff? My staff who you seem to love flirting with” you corrected him, looking over your shoulder at him. The blonde furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed “I pay for them there for their my staff.” He growled, asking faster in an attempt to intimate you “actually, your parents pay for the staff.” “Hah?” “Your parent pay for the staff so their not your staff, their the palaces staff.” You said ignorantly as you played with the lace of your dress. “You gonna get out of that frill fest you call a gown?” He asked, again trying to insult you “if I do I’m gonna shove it up your ass” “excuse me?”

“Want me to say it slower? I—WILL—SHOVE—MY—GOW”

“OKAY OKAY SHUT UP WOMAN” he growled at you and walked off in spite “THATS WHAT WHAT I THOUGHT. THATS WHAT I THOUGHT.” You angrily yelled back to him, which in real aspect you were yelling at the back of his ignorant head. You huffed and stormed away in the opposite direction as you wanted nothing more then to get away from that man. As you stomped down the halls, footsteps echoing with each step; you heard a male voice call out to you

“Princess.”

you looked over, a certain brown haired man similar looking to katsuki stared back at you. It was king Masaru “I was looking for you” he says, walking towards you. You quickly curtsied to the king “About what?” You asked “we have a wedding date for you and my son” he smiled warmly as if this was a good thing “o-oh.. and when may that be..?” Your eyebrows furrowed with frustration “a month from now, they will date you to get your gown fitted this week” he seemed overly happy about something neither you or his temperamental son wanted.

“Will I wear a wedding dress from my country or your country?” You asked softly, trying to keep your cool “uh.. our country.” He informed you “I’d rather wear my own wedding gown though, your majesty” “well.. you belong to our kingdom now. We can give you a dress that’s a mix of the two if you’d rather” he compromised, trying to keep with both your and his kingdom. Letting out a sigh your shoulders dropped “I suppose that be okay…” a look of mild disappointment on your face “wonderful, I’m glad we could come to a compromise” he smiled and walked off, an electric blonde guard following close behind him who you earlier learned his name was kaminari. The blonde goofily smiled to you, he seemed like a character. The two men walked off as they chatted, rolling your eyes you too began to walk in the direction of your bedroom chambers.

you couldn’t sleep that night, you tried changing your nightgown, exercising, reading a book, meditating, everything! nothing would help you sleep this night, you wondered if it was the weird interaction with king Masaru or the fact your own fiance was when you think about it was cheating on you with your own staff members. you slowly slid out of bed and out of your silk sheets, rubbing your face up and down with your hands with frustration. Looking down at your feet you sighed, looking out of the window. the night sky was so peaceful unlike your mind which was running with less the pleasant thoughts. How could you get Katsuki to like you? or at least tolerate you in some way so he wouldn't be the most annoying little shit.

The creak of the door hinges squeaks as you pushed the heavy wooden door open, wincing at the high pitch noise. Slowly but quietly gou walked towards the chambers of your future husband. As you approached the door you hear two voices come from the inside

“you’ll need to learn to cherish and care for her eventually”

“why would I do that?” “She is your fiancé! Your future wife! Future mother of your heirs!”

“you except me to fuck her too? Shit.”

“Yes obviously! Your gonna need heirs for our kingdom!”

“fine. Before or after this whole wedding?”

“well In her kingdom, you two do that on the wedding night but to be honest I don’t really care when you do her”

“Too easy”

safe to say your whole face was pink, with either anger or arousal but you couldn’t tell

Tag list!

@sagejin @teeesthings @hiimsaraandyou

@peachysuguru @luvgumii

@v3n7s @iangeeluv

[negrowhat]

Fave Kisses of 2024

Continuing on with the handful of prompts I chose to do from @babyangelsky 's 2024 QL Wrap Up!

JackJoke's First Kiss from Jack & Joker. Oh it was like the tension pot had finally started to boil. Just bubbling and brewing and steam was finally escaping...whistling even. Jack had returned home full on ready to finally confess and Joke, who already KNEW, was sitting there ready to receive his blessing. Oh Joke was so ready for that kiss that he practically climbed into Jack's lap to keep it going. You could see the hunger in Joke's eyes and Jack's eager but gentle approach to the kiss. 10/10.

Dohoe and Juyeong's Snow Kiss from Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo. Something about the way they kind of lost themselves in that kiss. I was shocked Dohoe kissed Juyeong out in the open like that, but he was in a different place in his journey so maybe it's not so shocking. Juyeong's hands around Dohoe's waist??? Oh it was my favorite part and my heart all but stopped when Dohoe suddenly came to his senses and pulled away.

GreatTyme's Guitar Kiss from 4 Minutes. That soft ass dream kiss from Dr. Tyme's 4 Minutes had me absolutely OBSESSED. Idk it was just so romantic and so sweet and so perfect. I could just feel the warmth coming from the bubble Tyme was dreaming about. Tyme's 4 Minutes is still my absolute fave part of the whole series.

Huai'en and Xiabao's First Kiss from Meet You At the Blossom. I've talked about it and talked about it and talked about it some more. None of y'all are surprised to see this kiss on this list. I don't even need to explain why because I'm sick of explaining lol. Go watch our first ever Uncensored Wuxia BL. Nothing is implied it's all there. Go watch it now! MYATB is from the same writer of My Stand-In if that helps.

Sickly Phaya kisses Tharn from The Sign. That man woke up from a coma (that almost supernaturally killed him), snatched out his IV, and escaped the hospital. And where did he go? Not to go check-in with his lil granny and baby sister! NO! He went to his man's house and shoved his tongue down his throat. Man was white as a sheet and all he wanted to do was get his dick wet. And Tharn just let him. I loved that kiss and the makeout session that followed.

YakDee over shoulder kiss from Wandee Goodday. Pretty certain it was from their last love scene because they were kissing. I don't even remember how the scene went exactly (they fucked so much) but that lil peck over the shoulder was so gorgeous. Yak had his chest pressed to Dee's back and the 'YY' necklace was displayed so clearly. 100/10.

XNamping's High Heat Encounter from Every You, Every Me. That little peck right before things started to heat up. Just a quick lil lip touch to gauge the temperature...y'know see if it's what they both really want. It is. I know X was FREAKING out, couldn't believe he was finally being intimate with his long time crush.

SanVee's final night kiss from Century of Love. I'm a huge fan of the soft cuddly kisses we got from SanVee and that snuggle session we got right before San's last day was my fave. The way San holds Vee to his chest so tightly as they share gentle kisses. The impending doom hanging heavy over their heads. It hurt so fucking good.

RyuZen's Shower Kiss from The Rebound. One thang MeenPing gon do is kiss in a shower and do it right. Meen's giant ass does a great job of making Ping look smol and when you add water to that it is just so visually pleasing. I don't remember much else about the kiss except Ryu was all over Zen and Zen almost couldn't keep up. If we get another MeenPing series I hope it can sit at the top next to Gangster Oppa.

2J Bathroom Kiss from CityBoy_Log. The most recent volume of CBL was really good for 2J. They had just made up after Jihan ghosted Jaejun and IDK how Jihan conned Jaejun into helping him bathe but they do wind up in the tub together, fully clothed though because Jaejun said he was just going to help him wash his hair. And the next thing I know Jihan has Jaejun pressed up against the shower wall. 2J's kisses tend to be very audible and this one was amplified and my gawd those boys can kiss. And when Jaejun slams Jihan against the other wall and they finally share their 'I Love You's I was clutching the pearls. I'm realizing I enjoyed CBL more than I thought.

SunJunior's First Kiss from Caged Again. Oh it was so sweet. Love that they were hiding under the covers. I love that Sun had finally told Junior about him being a panther. That's a big secret to share and it did give me Malec vibes which could also add to my love for the scene. Love that Junior smiled at Sun the whole time. It was a great first kiss during a vulnerable moment for Sun and Junior. Loved how warm and secure it looked under that cover.

To my mutuals, please forgive me if y'all have multiple mentions from this one post...

[inkdetect]

I appreciate your explanation however I’m still confused as to why they would represent Ivan and Till’s relationship as Ivan forcing Till with Till trying to get away if Till did like him back? I do agree that it’s interesting they’re facing each other with their mouths aligned (smth to do with words?) but eyes not aligned (can’t see eye to eye) in the “intro” to that scene rather than Till just ignoring Ivan entirely

Idk most perception I’m seeing of that scene is negative even from other people who ship Ivantill so it’s really hard for me to wrap my head around it since it’s meant to represent their relationship overall

Hello! I'm doing alright, just getting hit by the AO3 curse. I hope you're doing okay too!

Thanks a lot for asking, you're really making my day, and YESS this is an amazing question! I was wondering if you wouldn't mind me explaining two different points- but I promise it'll explain your question, in a way.

First thing we could start with:

-> Ivan's perfect mask and his self-deprivation

Now, let us start by stating that Ivan is the king of performances. He's an excellent student, a 'submissive pet', a fan's favorite, he was made and forced to keep a smile on his face and stay put as 'practice'. He's practically perfect at moulding himself for others' expectations.

He's more of a trophy than a human, a pet, or more like a dog. He says it himself, in his song 'nowhere', which is pretty interesting to dissect when it comes to learning about Ivan's character and personality- somebody has mentioned that Vivinos herself confirmed that Ivan's personality is the worst out of the entire cast (not necessarily bad or evil!).

His mask is a perfect structure, it's his flaw, weakness and it's a factor that enables the miscommunication between him and till. He can barely be honest with himself, let alone with the muse of his obsession.

I mentioned this in my first analysis- how Ivan often goes from being violent to very affectionate, and why that confuses and freaks the hell out of till.

-> Ivan only does that because he doesn't know how to express his emotions, and that was implied in some comics where he pisses off others just for the sake of it, and as a form of love (or entertainment).

There's also the fact that he was raised in the slums and never knew what affection felt like. So he doesn't know how to express it sincerely.

He's self-sabotaging, self-loathing, and thinks of his love as something parasitic, greedy and selfish.

He still loves till. Because as mizi said- ''I know my love was different from yours, but it was love too.''

He still wishes for till's freedom and happiness, he still wanted him to live, he still wanted him. But he can't try to explain that to Till when they're on limited time. Not when Till hopes for a different kind of healing that Ivan can't provide, and vise-versa.

Alien Stage is about love. Its sin, its effects, its toxicity, its mercy. All relationships are painted in a good and bad light, they all have their flaws, so none of them are really supposed to be perceived positively. It's a bunch of worst case scenarios to show that despite it all, there's still a glimmer of hope for all.

So for those who need to hear this: I'm pretty sure that all ships have to be understood- it's a moral lesson, not dolls for us to meddle and play with, they're not just 'fan service material'.

As I said in the other Ivantill analysis, I fully believe that their relationship is more unrealized than unrequited, because it's a two-way rejection.

-> So why does Till look like he's being forced? Why does he look so distressed?

After all, we know that till wears his heart on his sleeve, he's a very emotional character, that, we know of.

-> Let us not forget that Till is an abuse victim, we saw many instances where he was being exploited, abused, trained and was beaten within an inch of his life. So he doesn't react well to either affection (for instance, mizi's light) or violence.

Though, It's interesting how Till lets Ivan in his personal space without much struggle.

-> He's scared, confused and never fully understood Ivan. So when Ivan, with all of his self hatred and fear, tries to show Till his love and give it to him, and doesn't give him the chance to even understand as he shoves it down, and Till who is startled and simply just wishes to see eye to eye, finally collapse and meet, the heart shatters under Ivan's trembling jaw and tears and Till's struggle.

But Ivan can't love someone properly if he doesn't love himself. And Till can't love him if he isn't ready to come front. Ivan literally took his love confession to the grave.

It's why they're tragic, if they had enough time, if they were willing to try, they would have. They could have.

And for those who need to hear it again: simply calling their relationship ''sexual assault'', instead of trying to analyze and understand how they both gravitate towards each other yet stilled ruin another, doesn't make you a genius.

You don't classify things in black and white boxes.

Relationships are complex.

The characters are complex.

That still doesn't make them bad, or negative.

They're on an alien planet and it's been confirmed that they ALL know that they're going to die, obviously that's going to screw them a bit up.

I hope that this was a good explanation? Honestly I've just explained previous points again and extended them to a conclusion.

It's also hot as hell, I believe that I could manage to cook an egg on the pavement outside. But if there's anything that 's still blurred or unclear, feel free to ask! Thank you for the ask!

[adragonsfriend]

Use this one trick to instantly fix all childhood trauma (Jedi Masters don’t want you to know this)!!!!!

That is what every “if Obi-Wan had just— *adds one extra scene to canon* —then Anakin would’ve had perfect mental health and never listened to Palpatine at all,” sounds like to me. Look I am not an expert on any kind of psychology at all let alone early childhood development but,

It is possible to do your very best to help or raise someone and still have bad or imperfect outcomes, especially when you have someone actively, secretly working against you (cough cough Sith Lord of the month cough), (for many reasons, but in this case particularly), because unravelling the mindset built in early childhood is hard, actually.

Coming at this from the “raised in a safe and loving environment” side of things, it took me years to figure out and internalize that my friends whose parents weren’t as great as mine were functioning in an entirely different landscape when it came to their interactions with adults.

Many years ago when I was in middle school a friend (acquaintance? idk I think most people thought I was annoying) told me that her ankle kept giving out and causing her pain. I asked if she'd told her parents so she could rest or go to the doctor. She told me she had, but her mother either hadn't listened or refused to help. My (approximate) responses?

"So it's not actually that bad then?"

"You should tell her again."

"Are you sure you explained it right?"

The only explanation I could comprehend at the time was that there must have been some unclear communication about the situation or its severity--if her mother had understood she was in pain, she couldn't possibly have just not done anything about it? Adults are responsible, caring, etcetera! They wouldn't do that?!

With more experience, I've come to understand better, and learned to respond in kinder, more helpful ways, but the shift in mindset was not and is not intuitive.

And I had the luxury of figuring all that out whilst being safe myself. Coming from the other direction, being in danger and trying to figure out why other people act like the world is safe? I can't say for sure, but I imagine it’s a lot more complicated.

Point with regard to Star Wars being, it really is harder for Anakin, coming in later, to acclimate to the Jedi ways and thought processes than it is for his peers who grew up in the safe environment of the Temple. And whatever arguments people want to have about how much psychology and therapy exist in the Star Wars universe, or how much “Jedi just do cognitive behavioral therapy” (not totally inaccurate, but reductive on several levels), no matter what the answers to those questions, it will still be harder for Anakin.

There is a reason the council changes its mind on training him only after he is suddenly famous and the Sith are proven to be back. When Anakin was not in significant danger of being snatched up by someone else, it was genuinely probably the easier and safer option—for him and everyone else—for him to live a different life.

The Jedi are not necessarily fully prepared for a child with Anakin's history, and, there is nothing bad about living an ordinary life. Anakin would not have been somehow unforgivably robbed by living life as a mechanic or an engineer or something, rather than being a Jedi.

Anakin is a victim of many things in his life—Sidious, Watto, Gardulla, Tatooine’s everything, his own conscious choices—but he is not a victim of malice, incompetence, or idiocy by the Jedi just because they couldn't—in only a decade or so—help him fully and perfectly unravel the mindset he developed in his early childhood. If there was any lack of qualification on their part, it was one they were aware of—but which was outweighed by the danger of little Anakin getting kidnapped out of normal-kid elementary school.

Being brought up in and around slavery absolutely made him more vulnerable to Sidous and became the basis of their dynamic as master and apprentice. Acting like the trauma that affects his mindset and actions for his entire life can be obliterated just by making minimal changes to the plot is wild to me.

And don’t get me wrong, fics and headcanons can do whatever they want, not everyone wants or is trying to write a deep psychological character study (also fanfic and even fiction in general cannot and should not be held to any standard of realism if it's not serving the story and the author)—simple fix-it’s (my love) are fun and an excellent short-cut to other things like happiness and fluff (my other loves)—but don’t act serious about the idea that adding one conversation about his feelings or one extra explanation about Jedi philosophy would automatically lead to Anakin having perfect mental health outcomes and always making good decisions.

Disclaimer (if the ones throughout weren't enough) : please go forth and do whatever you want. the moral of this post is actually just that (1) you won’t convince me, (2) I wanted to talk about this, (3) the clickbait title was too funny not to post, (4) i literally can't open my mouth without phrasing things like i'm in the middle of a heated debate, and (5) i continue to not be an expert in early childhood development—my evidence is very literally anecdotal

[imbecominggayer]

How To Write Cuddling

This my third part to my series where I get specific requests from people about what advice they want. Here we have @12-cluh to explain what about cuddling is getting them confused:

"Idk how to really describe what I'm going after. I'd say I'm more confused on how to describe the way the bodies are laying together? That sounds weird but you get it-"

Perfect, so our key problem is how to establish a character's positioning in the cuddling!

First: How Are These People Cuddling?

Here is some great writing advice for all manners of situations: try to physically establish where the characters are

Heck, you could draw a nice stickman cuddling session in order to get everything down.

This is mostly to prevent a type of "I gently wrapped my arms around her in an unending hug as I let my free hand grasp onto her colder fingers." situation. If you didn't notice, human character grew a third hand and certainly didn't tell me.

And obviously, reread your material out loud so your pesky brain wont perform it's own autocorrect

Next, there are tons of different cuddling positions that evoke different types of atmospheres from the sultry to the affectionate to the hilarious.

Based on what I googled, there are many different names and Shingles is the weirdest thing to name a cuddling style.

Since this cuddling is taking place between "a couple who finally get a day off. (featuring her tracing his scars! :3" I'm guess that @12-cluh is probably going for affectionate.

I probably would recommend "Sweetheart's Cradle" or "The Honeymoon Hug" if you are going for an ultra-affectionate cuddle.

If you are looking for something more casual yet still affectionate then "The Spoon" and, uhh, "Shingles" . The "Sweetheart's Cradle" could still work here but that's up to your interpretation of what Romance On The Go is talking about.

2. Actual Description

Quote: "...how to describe the way the bodies are laying together?

Obviously, it's hard for me to give specific details on how to describe the scene since it's feelings which change the world and influence how it arrives to the audience.

If this is a somber affair, based on the scar tracing, then that's obviously going to influence the atmosphere. If it's a highly affectionate get-together then that's the diction.

However, in general, you don't need proper "he laid down on her" type of weirdly phrased descriptions.

You just need to get the emotion across.

For example, "He lowers them onto the bed once again, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She latches onto him and refuses to let go for the rest of the night. She refuses to let go for forever, actually. She prayes that she wasn't alone. That this isn't just another dream or mistake. When the sunlight glimmers through the curtain, she will thank the gods for this blessed union."

I hoped I communicated the deep love and desperation between these characters :3 God, I am such a bad writer.

Anyway, as you can see there wasn't a lot of detail focused on where my female character was latching onto. All the detail you need is for the movements that display emotion such as the caressing

Here is a more comedic example for more proof: "What nobody told him about cuddling is how f*cking uncomfortable it was. What should've been a delicate and affectionate affair was instead a mess of limbs and sweat as his boyfriend's ability to light up his life was far more literal then he wanted. But even if his hand may never function again as this brick shithouse of a man has lovingly passed out on it, the feeling of just being together in this shitty cot makes his soul tremble in the sweetest, strangest way. "

I regret writing examples of this. I am going to get destroyed in the comments for my shitty writing ability :`(

Anyway, there is little set-up for what limbs are where and what everyone is specifically doing.

There are other things you can do to show the audience where your characters are. "Our breath mixed together". Or "I could hear his heartbeat".

And now I need to ask you "doth that satisfy thou my liege?" I tried to do this advice right since it's you and for some reason I care about you more then I should, darling.

So please give me my validation and feel free to ask me for more writing advice. I am forever at your beck and call.

[rosenclaws]

Ranking Logan's based on how good his hair looks

disclaimer: He looks good in every movie lmao also my reasoning cannot be explained. Feel free to discuss because I think this is a very important conversation fr

10. X-Men: The Last Stand

Don't get me wrong he looks good as always but he doesn't look as good as he does in the other movies. I think the mutton chops are just too big for me this time lmao.

9. X-Men: First Class

Short cameo and the hair looks good but its just kinda boring and missing the kitty ears.

8. The Wolverine

He looks so good in this movie but the kitty ears aren't doing it for me. Too small. Plus his hair looks flat.

7. Deadpool and Wolverine

Same thing as the Wolverine but I'm biased towards Worst Logan plus they're a little fluffier. They do flatten during fight scenes though

6. X-Men

The first attempt of the wolverine hair and it was nice and very cute but its all over the place in the movie. However final battle Logan looks sooo good.

5. X-Men Origins

He doesn't really have the kitty ears here BUT his hair looks so luscious and so pretty that I think its okay he's missing them.

4. X-Men Apocalypse

Call me crazy but Weapon X is such a good look on him. The wild hair just works with the character so well. He's really in his animalistic vibes here.

3. Logan

The salt and pepper hair changed lives. He may not have the hair tuffs but he just looks sooooo good in this movie I can't ignore that. Plus the beard is so nice

2. X2

He just looks like peak wolverine here. The hair just works so well and he looks so good.

X-Men: Days of Future Past

How could it be anything else idk man he just looks soooooo good in this movie. Everything about his hair is perfect from the 70's look to the gray streak in the 2023 Logan. Perfection no notes.

[randomness-is-my-order]

the pjo show’s cinematography is so warm and homey and clever and detail-oriented so i wanna compile a few of my favourite still shots because why not??

^this one had me smiling so hard, not because it’s a particularly beautiful shot but the framing of the three is so well done. the focus is on sally who is talking to grover (both prominently in the front of the shot) while percy – who isn’t a part of the conversation but a listener of it – is still properly visible through the glass of the door and like??? i just think it’s a super cool way of having a passive character in the shot that i haven’t ever seen before, in a way that percy is both highlighted and still so clearly in the background that it doesn’t take away from the focus characters. also percy’s sweater matching the colours on the door is the cherry on top!!

^next is this one. it’s so perfectly angsty and though not complete, the symmetry is still eye-catching. it encapsulates the feeling percy must experience in that moment–him, amidst destruction, knowing he’s the cause but not knowing how or why. he looks all of twelve with his haphazard hoodie and almost forlorn look. he is not gloating, he is not cheerful. though he doesn’t know the gravity of his parentage, it’s almost like the show is telling us that his powers–which cause the door to break, too btw–will always be a source of isolation for percy. he is a force of nature, a destructive one most of the time, and the fact that he is just a child who is confused will never matter because this world doesn’t care for childhood but godhood alone.

idk, this shot just evokes a very unsettling kind of sadness for me. i think it’s beautifully framed.

^i absolutely love this one simply for the fact that the sheer struggle of the fight is so prominently visible. and yes, i cheated, this isn’t exactly a still shot but like an action sequence screenshot but whatever, it’s too good to not mention it here. the way percy is, honest to gods, bracing against the spear for his dear life, the evident and overwhelming rage on clarisse’s face, the blocking of the scene – it’s perfect. clarisse is not playing and percy is genuinely in danger and i love how this shot and the whole scene really sold us on that fact.

^ i just think it’s extremely cool that we can see the minotaur howling in pain, percy having his mouth wide open as if he’s letting out a yell as he goes to plunge the horn and that as percy does this act–killing the minotaur–which is surefire source of safeguarding himself and grover, something that will get him to camp, we can see thalia’s tree in the background. there is no reason percy had to make the kill here, with the chaos of the fight, so the fact that this is the spot and this is the shot as he kills the minotaur makes me think it’s deliberate. having thalia in the background is so impactful because again, percy could have met a similar fate in some other alternate universe but here, he wins and he survives.

^ do i even need to explain??? the shot is pretty and beautiful and almost magical. percy, alone with a tin of fire, burning blue food and talking to his mother. maybe one thing i can point out is that the sally-percy bond has been heavily indicated through glowing lights since the start. if you recall, the “you are not broken” speech by sally was given in front of the warm, glowing headlights of the car and percy’s face was illuminated by that warmth just the same way it is illuminated by the tin-fire in the forest.

^ first, this is too fucking gorgeous. second, percy is wearing his red jacket again and this dream happened after he reached camp so in my opinion, this dream was initially a comfortable imagining of percy’s mind and was then hijacked by kronos but i could be wrong since i don’t clearly remember how they manifested in the books originally. nevertheless, it’s a great detail to have him wear the red jacket because even if he may not have it with him anymore, it’s still clearly something he holds dear – and might associate sally’s memories with.

also, the fact that percy seems to have alot of scenes with fire might be because as someone who can control water, fire can never truly be a source of danger for him and therefore, he can find comfort in its warmth unhindered, always?

^ how could i not love this epic moment? the trident is perfect, big and blue and grand and majestic. half the screen is water, obviously. but what makes this good shot a great one is that there is literally no one else directly near percy except annabeth. the campers are all far away and in this shot itself only annabeth remains close to percy, though she is fittingly on the land, observing the scene before her. remember how i said percy’s legacy promises isolation but this shot tells me that despite that, percy will have someone who he can count on to be by his side (also cool that even in the bathroom, annabeth was technically still near him, even if she was, well, stalking him) and maybe this is my delusional ass talking, but annabeth being here is foreshadowing for me. i just think it’s a choice to have this epic revelation where they could easily have had percy standing alone in the middle of the lake but no, annabeth is also there and not only because she’s the one who led to that revelation but because she’s someone who isn’t intimidated by percy’s parentage and still can be beside him.

^ i adore this shot because 1) it shows us just how young and tiny percy is and 2) it tells us that maybe that door is so fucking huge because it’s being inclusive of centaurs and other giants of their world. also, symmetry strikes again!!! the colours are so well balanced, not bright and vibrant but on the pastel side that indicates an aged feel to them.

and lastly,

^ i just find it funny that a private academy like yancy has an official vehicle that looks as beat up and terribly malfunctioning as this. 😭 like this half van was so out of place i literally goggled at the screen when it first appeared.

okay, i’m done for now. i also really liked the faceless sally scene in the start paralleling medusa’s eventual beheading but i already made a post about it. this legitmately only covers about 10% of the shots i wanted to talk about but these might be my favourites. this was long af so if you read the whole thing, mad respect to you.

[bluesidez]

HEY POOKS. Could you write a DBF!Miguel x dancer!reader. He just loves to watch her dance in competitions and recitals and helps her practice her routine by counting out 8’s for her <333

( maybe he can give reader a reward for doing so well but idk 🤭 )

[Rehearsal]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant (Hi @snails-doodles22) 🩻

summary: Miguel keeps you grounded as you prepare for a dance competition. 

content warning: age gap (abeg she’s 21+), secret relationship, fluff, like two suggestive?? lowkey explicit scenes so MINORS BEWARE, a few thoughts of frustration/failure but nothing serious just the thoughts of an artist

word count: 1.9k, halfway proofread

a/n: Hi hi!! This one was really a challenge for me!! and Idk if I’ll write DBF again ngl Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it! I leaned more on the age gap aspect of the relationship and pulled from how I felt when practicing for my own recitals/competitions 🤠! (I get extremely snappy and mean lol)

A Grand Adage (as best as I, not a professional ballerina but I practiced for 3 years, can explain) is a slower dance move where you stretch your leg to the front, side, and back without losing your balance. You also have to switch legs…I think. It looks like it takes a LOT of core strength, especially without a partner.

I don’t think I mention it in the story, but I’m imagining this Miguel to have salt and pepper hair, but like, in its early stages. So only a few strands of gray. 

“Damn it.”

The music started to sound more and more jaded as you failed another Grand Adage after powering through the more fast-paced part of your routine. 

You don’t know why you had the bright idea to add the most pain-inducing ballet moves to your contemporary piece, but you were starting to hate yourself for it. It was supposed to represent a crash and burn of rushing perfection which was ironic because you were feeling those emotions tenfold.

“You’re not going to get it if you keep trying to force it like that.” You heard Miguel from across the room and the music finally stopped. “It’s a pause between those last two counts. You know this, chiquita.”

You huffed out a chuckle as you got up, “Knowing and doing are two different things. I know what’s coming, which is why I keep anticipating it and messing it up.”

“The studio is all yours for a few more hours,” Miguel sighed. “Take a breath and try it again.”

“That’s so easy for you to say. You’re not the one busting your ass,” you mumbled as you got back into your starting position. 

Miguel crossed his arms, head leaning on the wall above the barre, “You want to say that again?”

You dropped your arms and stared at him, face blank. 

After a minute or so of you going silent, he unfolded his arms and beckoned you towards him. 

You dragged your feet to get to him, hands hugging yourself. 

“I know you want this to be perfect, but snapping at me isn’t going to help that.” His hands made their way to the back of your thighs, rubbing up and down the tightened muscles. 

“I’m sorry, I just-” you rubbed your eyes with your palms. “The competition is so soon and I keep fucking the routine up.”

“And you’ve also done it perfectly countless other times. You’ve got this! I know you do. I’ve seen how much work you’ve put into dancing and that’s not going to change.”

“But Miguel-”

“But nothing. I’ve seen how you become a new person on the stage. You demand the attention of your audience in a way that your peers can’t. You’re captivating and alluring so I’m not going to sit here and let you think otherwise.”

You look at him with a face that says “I know you’re right, but I don’t want you to be,” and just fall onto his lap, wallowing in his arms while you breathe in his cologne. 

He nuzzled you on the head, hands patting at your ass, hands warm and firm through your tights, “Now can you try again for me?”

“Can I have a kiss?” you say, lips rivaling a rubber duckie. 

He chuckles at you but obliges, heart too soft when it comes to you. 

You get up with new ambition, taking a deep breath as you stride back to the middle of the room. 

“I’m going to count out loud for you this time, is that ok?”

“Yeah,” you reply, arms molding into a sharp form. 

When the music starts this time, you hone in on Miguel’s voice, taking leaps and turns with his timbre. Your heart thumps all the same, but your brain isn’t as loud. 

As the Grand Adage comes again, Miguel’s voice stays calm, never wavering. You tighten your core and lift your leg high, hands framed beautifully and foot pointed sharp as you hold your arms above your head. As you bring your leg back down to begin to turn, your heart almost stops when your body remains stable and strong. You can’t believe it but try to keep the piece's emotion steady. 

You switch legs without trouble, eyes catching Miguel watching your form in the mirror. His face is serious but you can’t hear that in his voice, making you feel fuzzy. You keep up the pace, repeating the same move but gearing up to do an Illusion.

Like a flash, you bring your leg down and bend your body, foot spinning swiftly to perform the trick. Your heartbeat is roaring in your ears as you move through the rest of the routine, mind too excited from your success to completely portray the ending emotions of dance. 

Once you finish, you’re quick to get out of your position, face lit up as you turn to Miguel. When you run to him, you’re screaming with glee. He only stumbles a bit when you jump in his arms, body wrapped around him like a koala. 

“Miguel! Did’ya see it? Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” you laughed as he spun you around.

“I told you you could do it, amor. You just needed to get out of your head.”

“Ok ok, three more times and I think I’ll be ready to leave.”

“Well let’s get busy, chiquita. We’ve got work to do.”

You run through the routine again and again, becoming more confident each time. After every successful routine, Miguel’s praises get more and more loving. First a deep hug, then a few pecks to the lips, then a makeout session that has you squirming for more. 

“Is your dad picking you up today?” he said, lips on your neck.

You turn your nose up at the mention of him, “No, I took the bus.”

“Could have asked me to drop you off.”

“You were at work, Miggy. Didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother,” he stopped to move his forehead to yours. “You can come over tonight. You need to relax after all of this hard work.”

“And what do I tell my dad when he asks where I am?” your eyes pan from his eyes to his lips, fingers reaching up to go through his hair. 

“Tell him you’re at a girlfriend’s house.”

You twist your mouth to the side, pretending to think.

“How are you planning to relax me?”

“A hot bath.”

You snickered, knowing better than to believe that was all he was planning to do, but taking his word for it. 

Hours later when you were laid on your back, hands gripping the sheets below you and Miguel holding your legs up as he stroked deep inside, your suspicions were confirmed. Your skin was soft from the bath and your muscles were like jelly after he spent an hour massaging every tight muscle out of you. The room was full of him, his smell surrounding you, and the noises of him attending to your every need. With every cry of his name, he brought you closer to the horizon. 

On the day of your competition, you didn’t even look at Miguel before you went on, nerves too bad. If he gave you a pep talk, internally, you would be appreciative, but externally, you might tell him to leave you the fuck alone. 

Knowing how you get, he supported you in the best way he could by sending you messages and a light breakfast in the morning. 

“Break a leg, chiquita”

“Not literally of course”

“I’ll be waiting for you once it’s over”

“With a surprise :)”

It was enough to fill you with anticipation, ready to give it all on the floor.

Once your number was called, you went to the center and got into position. The crowd was dark enough to feel like it was just you in the room, but your heart knew otherwise with how fast it was beating. 

When the music starts, it’s like Miguel’s voice is a soundtrack playing through your memory. You can’t see him, but you can feel him in the crowd cheering you on. Your feet move across the floor, body tightening and relaxing when needed. Your face wears a frustrated expression, portraying the sentiment of everything falling out of control. Your leaps and turns come one after another moving your form across the stage. 

The Grand Adage comes to you like lightning, you don’t even notice you’re doing it until it happens. The muscle memory takes over and you transition to the Illusion like it's nothing. Your mind wanders as you go through to the end of the routine, finishing strongly with your pose on the floor.

The cheers of the audience are what bring you back to reality. A feeling of relief washes over you as you stand and bow, smiling brightly. 

Standing with the other dancers from your category, you don’t expect the judges to call your name for first place, so when they all turn to look at you, you feel like you might have walked out in your underwear by accident. 

It isn’t until you’re handed a bouquet of flowers and a trophy that it dawns on you that your hard work has paid off. The check was no measly amount of money either. 

Looking out to the crowd, you can see Miguel standing up with his hands cupped over his mouth as he yells. Your family is standing next to him cheering as well. You wave at them, jumping up and down in excitement. Only you can see the wink Miguel gives you. 

When you meet them out in the lobby, you have to stop yourself from keeping your attention on Miguel. 

“You did amazing, honey,” your dad says, squeezing the life out of you. “That flip thing? I don’t know how you did it, but wow!”

“It’s called an Illusion,” Miguel shakes his head. “Keep up.”

“What are you, her coach or something?”

“C’mon you guys,” your mom fusses. “Don’t start bickering in the building. At least wait until we get dinner.”

“‘M gonna ride with Miguel,” you say to them. 

Knowing how much you like his car, your parents think nothing of it and walk out to their own car. 

Once they’re out the door, he turns and gives you a deep kiss, “You did such a good job. I’m so proud of you.”

“I just remembered what you said. Kept it in the back of my mind while I performed.”

He smiled and wrapped his hands around your waist, “Yeah?”

You nod and bring his lips to yours again. 

“Where’s my surprise?”

“Always so impatient.”

“You wouldn’t like me any other way.”

“Tienes rázon,” Miguel chuckled. 

Miguel brings a sparkly gift bag to your attention, placing it in your hands. You reach into the bag, tissue paper falling to the floor. You pull out an envelope and a long velvet box. 

You open the box, eyes glittering when you see the necklace inside. 

“Miguel, this is adorable!” 

“Here,” he takes the necklace out of the box. “Let me help you put it on.”

You turn and focus your attention on the envelope, fingers sliding under the sealed flap. 

Your breath halts when you pull the tickets out.

“To Paris?”

You turn to him once your necklace is latched together, eyes teary from happiness.

“You’ve been doing so amazing, I wanted to treat you to an amazing trip.”

“How much did this cost?”

“Nothing that you should worry your head about.”

You crowd his space, kissing his face all over, “Thank you so much, Miguel.”

“Of course. Anything for my girl.”

“I don’t want to go out to dinner now,” you sigh dramatically.

“Yeah? You know we can’t bail, though.”

“Not even if I give my thanks to you in the car?”

Miguel bit the inside of his cheek, watching you grin at him. He’s really way too soft when it comes to you. 

“Vamos.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

ASSIGNING TFB SONGS TO TADC CHARACTERS BCUZ IM INSANE AND ONLY LISTEN TO ONE BAND APPARENTLY!!!!!!

Heads up there r gonna be some kinda obscure pulls for this just bcuz. I have a near encyclopedic knowledge of The Front Bottoms' discography- if u dont know the songs I recommend giving them a listen tho bcuz TFB fuckin rules :)

Pomni - Twin Size Matress.

Basic ass choice I know but like. C'mon. Pomni is the newest to the circus, and so far the role she's played in most episodes has been empathizing with the people there and trying to help them with their issues, even if it's in a more subtle way like when she offered to close for Gangle in ep 4. She's helping them swim, even when the flood water looks like mud. And the iconic, emotionally resonant parts of the song, the ones literally everyone knows so I don't feel the need to specify, resonate SO incredibly well with Pomni and Jax's fallout in episode 6. Like holy fuck. The arc of the song also just really fits with Pomni's arc so far in the show. Not sure how to explain that one but still. Also on a slightly more light hearted note, "I wanna contribute to the chaos" is basically just what she was doing in episode 6. Girl decided to contribute to the chaos of the circus instead of watching and complaining! Anyways yeah Pomni is the most Twin Size Matress coded of any character I've ever associated w Twin Size Matress and I will not be listening to any criticism of my choice to assign her this song.

Jax - The Boredom Is The Reason I Started Swimming, It's Also The Reason I Started Drowning.

I already made a post abt this but this song is literally fucking perfect for Jax I'm not kidding. Like, I looked up the lyrics last night just as like a refresher and I was SHOCKED by how well almost every single line fit with Jax. "Don't tell me complicated stories about who you used to be"? "You're part of a program, get with the program"!? "Stop crying you're an adult"!?!? "I WANNA FEEL LETHAL ON THE INSIDE"!?!?!?! Tbh there are a lot of TFB songs that fit Jax rlly well, but THIS IS THE BEST ONE because it highlights his issues SO PERFECTLY!!!!!! LIKE IT EVEN USES THE SAME KIND OF METAPHORS HE DOES!!!!!!! A constant throughline in this song is the TV, with it being on in the background during the beginning, and the narrator saying that they're part of a program. That, along with the reference to American Psycho, perfectly encapsulates the way Jax depersonalizes everybody around him as characters in a story!!!! This is the most Jax coded song ever don't fuckin try me.

Ragatha - Cough It Out.

Cough It Out is a really really hard song for me to describe, but if I had to pin down the story of the song, it's that the narrator is just now coming to terms with how toxicly one-sided their relationship has been. They still care deeply about this person, but they can't really bring themself to call them a friend anymore because of how much of themself they've had to give to keep the relationship going. And while I don't think this describes any of Ragatha's current relationships particularly well, it DOES still highlight her biggest character flaw of constantly trying to please everybody to the point that she doesn't let herself(or anyone else) breath. The chorus of "you never know what you've been through til you pause and cough it out" is ALSO very fitting, especially given the way she talked about her mom during the bar scene. Plus, the opening about never really feeling satisfied with the current state your in, not really knowing what you want... it's literally just the perfecr Ragatha song Idk what else to tell you.

Gangle - Lonely Eyes.

Oh my god guys we found the lonely girl!!! She would threaten to jump and all her friends(read: Jax) would just scream "let her!". This song very much feels like Zooble talking about Gangle, tho my brother did actually make a decently compelling argument that it could also be Zooble AND Jax depending on the line and Im lowkey inclined to agree. But no matter who the narrator is, the person being described in this song is Gangle to a T idc. Like. She does have lonely eyes! She is incredibly sad most of the time! The one day they close early WOULD be the one she wants to stay!!! LONELY GIRL U R EVERYBODY'S WORLD WE LOVE U GANGLE <3

Zooble - More Than It Hurts You.

Tbh I don't have very strong feelings abt this match, but it definitely works the best out of all the songs I considered. This song, to me, feels like its about being aimless and unsure of who you are, and that's literally Zoobles entire struggle. Their storyline about self acceptence is reflected pretty well in this song Imo, esp because the lines about the narrator considering changing their hair and the chorus talking abt tattooing poems all over their body and cutting off their fingers kinda reflect Zoobles interchangeable parts. Whole thing is just very Zooble Core.

Kinger - Plastic Flowers.

I went with this one mostly bcuz of the whole speech at the end. It feels a lot like advice Kinger would give someone. Like, it's not a one to one, but it's still similar enough that I felt it fit. Also Plastic Flowers is very much a song about mourning a lost loved one, eventually being either the victim or the victims family, and oh boy does that fit Mr. King-"I miss my wife Pomni"-er! So even though some of the lyrics feel kinda off base, this is still undeniably a VERY Kinger coded song.

Caine - Not Joking.

Caine's entire existence is the circus. He was created to be a performer, literally born to entertain, but it just isn't working. Nobody likes his adventures, nobody likes HIM, and it HURTS! He's losing his damn mind because nobody actually respects him. "Just clap and keep smiling, but don't laugh". Also the line about being "afraid of knowing what to do, but those who are blessed shall not complain", to me at least, reads as someone who is usually looked to for instruction by the ppl around them despite being just as unequipped to deal with the problem as everyone else is, and by god if that isn't Caine then Idk what is-(also I might lowkey be projecting just bcuz this is one of the TFB songs I relate to the most and I also relate to Caine a LOT-)

Oh also FunnyBunny girlies, yall should totally listen to literally anything off Talon of the Hawk. Had to go thru a bunch of songs from that album for this and like even tho I don't really outright ship those two I saw a LOT of their relationship in basically every song I read the lyrics to-

[il1ketoy4p]

So hear me out, the characters of tadc were obviously humans in the real world, so why did they turn into what they are in the digital circus?

WARNING!!!! BIG YAPPING SESSION! :0

Pomni- So, I think Pomni had/has low self esteem which is supported by how she would say that her videos got barely or no views when she would do urban exploration. Idk why, but when she says that she seems kind of sad or thinking she was childish for thinking people actually wanted to watch her. And how she would also help others even though she isn’t mentally well either, still trying to comfort others and put her friends before her. Explaining the jester look, by thinking less about her self and her possibly thinking she’s only useful to people when she’s listening to them "entertaining them/only being useful as entertainment" as a jester. Seems like she also acted likes she’s fine irl to not worry people or thinking she didn’t deserve to be heard.

Ragatha- I think Ragatha would think of her self being used as a doll (specifically a raggedy doll from the mental abuse from her mother). What I mean by this is how she would explain in the recent episode that her mother would yell at her, guilt trip her, and make her think like it’s her fault making her feel exhausted and worn out like a doll. The mental torment and constant ridicule/ disapproval from her mother must have made her have a low self esteem and prioritize others (much like Pomni). Her mother made her think she was a disappointment who shouldnt show their emotions and hide them behind a smile, like how a doll never changes expression. She eventually snaps in the ep (goddam the people who overreacted over her outburst) showing how she truly feels and how she isn’t just some happy go person. The ridicule must have also made her want to be the perfect daughter her mother wanted, a perfect doll yet raggedy and worn out from being used and hurt.

Zooble- Zooble is a… well it’s complicated. Zooble isnt really anything but a bunch of pieces that make up well Zooble. This could be that Zooble really doesn’t identify herself as a person not knowing who they were. Could be that Zooble had a difficulty in knowing who they were like their gender or (a deeper theory) they’re meaning in life. Many parts of Zooble could be how they see themselves, someone who is made up of different things about themselves and their personality but not really knowing who they were. Idk if that makes sense. I’m the end, Zooble has/had a hard time identifying themselves as a person or at all.

Kinger- As most of tadc fans know, kinger and his wife Queenie both were teleported to the digital circus. They were both chess pieces, him being a king her a queen. This could mean how they are dependent on each other. A king chess piece is defenseless without its queen and a queen needs the king. This couldve been their dynamic before Queenie abstracted. The saddest thing is how after losing Queenie Kinger lost a part of himself much like in chess he was defenseless. Without his Queen/ wife he started going insane and is now who he is.

Gangle- As from gangles switch from comedy mask to the other one could be how she switched emotions too. What I mean is she would quickly change her mood after a slight inconvenience and be very stressed out constantly. She could have worked at a food food restaurant and could have been the manager which made her feel like she finally had control over others and herself. Like she was finally in charge of her life. She tries to keep stuff like that and her anime obsession to herself since she believes to be a burden on others and disappointed in herself for being so gullible and submissive to others. She was most likely bullied by her peers and all that stress might have made her attempt a suicide (this is from the truck scene).

Jax- Although Jax is always portrayed as the bully and the mean one who doesn’t give a flying crap I feel like it’s something more than that. As he is a bunny and bunnies are mostly the prey and victim/ seen as the one who’s in danger I feel like he was also a victim of the doing he does. Although nothing of his past is clear about him (except Ribbit) I think he was bullied or ridiculed as he those to others. And how he threatens people he was probably also threatened but tried to have the tough guy act which is why he acts like this now. He doesn’t want it to happen again even if the person has no intention to harm him he just won’t risk it. He also faintly frowns when Zooble says something rude back to him not expecting someone to stick up to him and being genuinely upset. Once the others start ignoring him he tries to stick out because he probably also had others that were tired of him and he doesn’t want to be forgotten.

Yeah none of these are true these are just my theories and thoughts gahyuk

[sorenflyinn]

FOAMING IN THE MOUTH LIKE-- FINALLY AN AUTHOR WITH REQUESTS OPEN AND WRITES FOR OUR KING SHOJI!!!!

*ahem* I'm just really excited and hyped-

idk if you rather write this as a oneshot or a headcannon, it's up to you!

How about a telekinesis reader (think of tatsumaki from OPM) who is known to be dating shoji. Like-- the scene here is when shoji tells the whole class about his past like in the manga. Reader is someplace else when his history/face reveal happened. Mina or any of the girls in the class, out of curiosity and care for their friends, asked if reader already saw his face and all. And he's like-- 'Yeah and y/n had a VERY different reaction to it than all of you here.' and the whole class became like low-key angry till he laughed and explained how reader had the most perfect response to his reveal.

Because when he showed his face to reader, reader looked at him sadly while caressing the scar on his face and started saying like "Oh Mezo, what happened? This must have been painful *smiles sadly at him* but even with the scar, I still love you."

Cue Mezo malfunctioning. Because this bitch fr thought he was wearing a mask to hide his scars like 😭 'Im using this mask to hide my face in general???' Like he has to make sure and tried explaining and reader is like- "Huh? Scary? You??" Like-- that's why reader's reaction was his favorite so far. It was not out of fear or pity- it was anticlimactic turned romantic. (Reader probably already had seen too much in the hero field to be phased anymore lmao)

Sorry this got long-- I'm a deprived mezo fan since 2019. And only started brainrotting now when authors and content creators started giving him some love 💕

FOCUSED ON THIS SO HARD AS SOON AS I SAW THIS WONDERFUL IDEA SO I HOPE IT’S HOW YOU IMAGINED 🫶

IGNORING PREPPING FOR FINALS WITH THESE BUT IT’S WORTH IT 🤭

Shoji x gn!reader

a oneshot on how y/n reacts to seeing shoji’s face for the first time (along with class 1-a)

This contains manga spoilers, so read if you’d like

Mezo was worried about doing this without you, his girlfriend, there with him, but he said he would do it, so he’ll follow through with it.

When Aizawa asked for your help in regards to Eri’s power, Mezo decided that it was time to reveal his face to the rest of the class. He didn’t want you caught up in the trouble that might occur with their reactions.

As everyone sat in the main room, he took his mask off, bracing himself for his reactions before telling them all his story.

As he explained it all, their reactions were around the same, shock and horror painting their faces before they all went to hug him.

After a moment of silence, Yaoyorozu spoke up, “Have you shown Y/N yet?”

“Yes I have, and they had a very different reaction to it than you all did.”

All of their eyes widened in shock at what that could mean, and as Shoji realized they were taking it the wrong way, he corrected them, “No, no, they didn’t react badly, they just..”

~~~

You and Mezo were in your room, him fidgeting constantly as he sat on your bed next to you, watching you practice your quirk on different things around your room.

Just as a pencil floated into your hand, you looked over to him, a worried look on your face, “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been fidgeting a lot.”

He turned to you before diverting his eyes, nerves filling him after each second. Taking a breath to calm himself, he looked back at you, “I was thinking.. I’m ready.”

You blinked, “Ready for what?” After a moment you realized, your eyes lighting up in glee, and you gasped, “Really? Are you sure?”

He smiled at you, albeit, under the mask, but you could see the corners of his eyes crinkle a bit which was a telltale sign for you, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Turning his body towards you fully, he took a deep breath as you did as well. You smiled gently before taking one of his big hands in your own, “Take your time, love.”

He squeezed your hand gently before letting go, his hands going up and lowering his mask. The bundle of nerves in his stomach seemed to quadruple, only for it to melt away as he felt your hand gently cup his cheek.

“Mezo.. what happened?” You gently rubbed your thumb over his cheekbone, “This must’ve been painful.. but even with the scars I still love you.”

It took him a moment to realize, but those words along with how you looked at him showed that you didn’t even realize that the shape of his face was different, and instead you thought his reason for hiding his face was the scars.

“N-No, I don’t hide my face because of the scars, it’s because of.. well, people always told me my face was scary..” He averted his gaze away from you.

“Wh- huh? ‘Scary’??” Bringing your other hand to his face, you brought his gaze back to yours, “All I see is an absolutely gorgeous man, I don’t see anything about you that I would consider ‘scary’.”

After a few moments of looking into each other’s eyes, Mezo’s arms were hugging you to him tightly. No words were spoken as you sat like that in his arms, calmness finally washing over his worries as if they were never there.

“Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Mezo.”

Pulling back, he looks at your lips then back to your eyes, and you nod softly with a small smile. Slowly leaning in, you share a soft kiss.

Bliss fills both of you as you pull back, going back to hugging as he lays back with you on top of him, your weight relaxing him as he feels the exhaustion of worrying catching up to him, causing him to fall asleep on your bed.

~~~

As he finished retelling the story, he looked up at his classmates who all had tears in their eyes as Mina was the first one to speak, “That- *sniff* was such a cute story.”

Right as she blew her nose, you opened the door to the dorms, slightly shocked to see everyone sitting in the main room, and even more, that they were all looking at you.

“I’m guessing I missed something important?” Looking over to your boyfriend, your eyes widened as you saw him without his mask on in front of them. He smiled at you softly, to which you reciprocated instantly, “It seems I did.”

Walking over, you start to see that all of your classmates have tears in their eyes which cause you to worry, looking between them and Mezo. “As much as I’d like to be caught up to speed, I should really go to be-”

You were cut off as Mina and the rest of the girls jumped and hugged you as Ochaco said something about how adorable that story was, but you didn’t think you heard correctly.

Stuck in their grasps, you struggled out a, “Ok, nevermind I’ll just stay here then.” Before hugging them all back.