#( i feel so shitty for doing this last minute and i always get a wee bit anxious about bothering ppl

[starry-eyedblog]

HI LAURY (≧ω≦。) I CAN FINALLY SEND YOU AN ASK AGAIN!!

okay ahem i was thinking about roomates!soap and gaz !! they are like very overly touchy and obsessed with you, literally can't keep their hands off you while you three are on the couch watching a movie. a bit insane and gross sometimes too BUT i love them very much. DO YOU SEE MY VISION HERE!! i don't think i am explaining it well BUT YEAH >:3

ruru!! i'm so happy yer free from jail, vry glad to have you back<3

and omg i'm actually frothing at the MOUTH i see your vision so clearly. why is this so hot?? i actually need them so badly. hope i do the idea justice !! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

warnings/tags: roommate! soap x roommate! gaz x reader, non con/dub con, groping, pervy/creepy behaviour, slight manipulation/guilt tripping, mentions of panty sniffing

you had moved into a new flat a few weeks ago, managing to snag a pretty big place for a cheap price. when you saw the amount on the post advertising it online, your eyes almost bulged out of your head and you rushed to contact the owners, which turned out to be two handsome men a few years older than you.

what was not to love of the place? close commute to your work, cheap, spacious and two very good looking men living there too. honestly it felt like a setup but you didn't question it, and your application was immediately accepted.

so in no time flat you were moving in, setting up all your own furniture with the help of both your roommates. and after a week of getting comfortable and your roommates keeping a good distance from you while you settled in, they finally asked you to join in with them on their activities that have always been just for the two of them. the first, was film night.

"every friday night, we have film night. snacks, drinks, shitty films. it's our routine, and now you're here, we thought you should be included." gaz had told you on thursday morning, an easy smile on his face as he stood leaning on the kitchen counter, eating toast in just his plaid pyjama trousers hanging low on his waist with everything else on show. it was very difficult to avoid oogling at his chest as you responded. "so-sounds great, i'll uhm pick up some snacks after work tomorrow." you ushered out.

it's now friday night at half nine and the three of you are huddled up under soft blankets on the pretty spacious couch with you squished in the middle of them. there wasn't any need for them to have their bodies so close to you, but you didn't say anything. gaz had his arm resting on the back of the couch, around your head which made you blush slightly, even though it was just for his own comfort.

you're only fifteen minutes into the film, some popcorn in your hand with eyes glued to the tv when you feel the first touch. it's a big, warm hand pressing at your thigh. you jump, head whipping round to soap who smiles innocently at you. his hand grips your thigh and you whine, stumbling out a response.

"soap, wh-what-?" you try to ask but soap shushes you up quickly, "shh hen, tryna watch the film." he points to the tv with his free hand, no longer looking at you. not even a minute later, another hand coming from the other side of you is now squeezing at the inside of your thigh.

your head whips round to face gaz instead, your eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. "why are y-" before you can get another word out, gaz is also shushing you and instead facing the tv - just like soap.

you try not to think about it too much, as they both seem to be enamoured with the film playing in front of them and uncaring of the fact both of their hands are gripping at your thighs that borderlines on just a wee bit too tight.

as the film continues, you start to forget about the weight of their hands on your thighs but that doesn't last long until both hands are moving again, one going to your front while the other slides back to rest on your arse.

your cheeks instantly flare pink as you sputter out words, trying to ask what they are doing. "ain't doing anythin', you're jus' too sensitive love. keep watchin' the film alright? me and johnny really want you to take movie night serious, can you do that for us?" gaz asks with a pout, guilt tripping you with his adorable puppy face that will soon become a recurring issue for you.

you find your head nodding slowly, eyes turning back to the tv once again as their hands start to fondle you. soap's hand teases at your cunt through your joggers, cupping it every now and then while gaz grabs and almost kneads at the soft skin of your arse, fingers slipping the joggers down enough that he can touch warm flesh.

it doesn't take long for you to be a whimpering mess on the couch, trapped between the two burly men who give you no respite, rough overworked hands fondling you so meanly and roughly, without care for your sensitive body.

"gu-guys the film, i thought you wan-hghh wanted to watch it." you splutter, head rolling back onto the shoulder of gaz who's on your left. "aye we do, so quit yer yapping quien." soap grumbles, leaving a sloppy wet kiss on your neck, eyes not even looking at the tv.

it doesn't take long for gaz's fingers to work their way down your joggers and push aside your flimsy underwear, a dry thumb pressing against your asshole that has you squirming, hips bucking to get away. gaz's other hand keeps you pinned down firmly with no issue, watching the way your mouth falls open to let out confused sounds of pleasure and pain.

as gaz does this at the back of your body, soap fondles with the front of you, hand slipping down your underwear to press at your clit which makes you moan out-loud, eyes fluttering shut. "dove, please. we haven't seen this film before, been waiting awhile." gaz complains, nibbling at your ear and you feel as if all your nerves have been set on fire. the guilt and pleasure swirls through your turned on body, mind starting to become foggy as they continue their groping.

you bite down on your bottom lip harshly, teeth digging into the skin and causing little tears. tiny droplets of blood stain your bottom lip as you sit there like a doll for them, your fuzzy brain desperately trying to focus on the film but at this point any ideas you had about the plot or characters has left you and replaced with the way your body is being groped at by your two new roommates.

soon soap's fingers are slipping past your folds and caressing your hole that seems to grow wet from the touch, even though it's a natural human body instinct, soap takes it that you're enjoying his and gaz's caressing which just feeds into his gross mindset.

"fuck gaz, should feel how wet they are. fuckin' turns em on being groped." soap moans deeply, one thick finger slipping into your wet hole that immediately clenches down on the intrusion. "that so? we picked the right one tav." gaz smirks at his friend, pulling his hands out of your joggers to then shove his dry thumb into your mouth roughly.

"suck lovie." he stated, watching the way your teary eyes didn't move away once from the tv while your mouth gently sucked on the digit. soon he slipped his thumb out and pressed it against your hole once again, but this time he gently started to edge his spit soaked finger inside which had your body flinching. you had never experimented back there, so this was a very new sensation.

"never had anyone back here, eh?" gaz jokes with a mean chuckle which soap joins while thrusting one finger meanly into your tight cunt that leaks around his hand. another finger is soon added, thumb pressing against your clit. you feel absolutely ashamed, your body enjoying the touch while your mind is conflicted.

before you can think much more about how wrong this is, how your roommates have ganged up on you to touch you without any consent, your stomach tightens and your cunt clenches down on soap's two fingers. your asshole pulses around gaz's thumb as your orgasm washes through you and your eyesight blurs from the intensity.

as you whimper and gasp on the couch, hips bucking and writhing to try get away, both men watch in awe as you cum. the film is long forgotten now, playing quietly in the background as it illuminates the room. once your orgasm finally comes to an end, your body slumps back into the couch, eyes half lidded and body limp while your roommates remove their hands out of you.

soap is the first to taste your sweet nectar, long tongue wrapping around his middle finger and sucking off your juices. he moans and pants like a dog in heat as he tastes you on his tongue, and it isn't long before gaz is whining for his turn. soap reluctantly pulls off and rests his ring finger on gaz's plump lips, watching the younger man slowly open his mouth and welcome his finger inside. his tongue laps up the wetness, hips bucking up from need as he drinks down everything he can just off soap's finger.

after a minute, soap is pushing gaz off with a chuckle. "alright calm yersel gaz." he says, and gaz rolls his eyes. "you're just the same." he grumbles quietly before turning to you, smiling at how out of it you are, still limp against the couch.

thankfully both men pull your underwear back up and clean you up, but not without leaving messy hickeys all over your neck and shoulders to claim you as theirs.

and no one needs to know, certainly not you, that through this week of you settling in - where they kept their distance so you were comfortable, they weren't actually keeping faithful to that promise. they already managed to slip a few dirty pants out of your bedroom to sniff and huff at while jerking the other off at late hours into the night, as well as spying on you when showering.

but this was just the start of their creeping on their new pretty roommate.

@bjornthebearguy

@iciclesses

@mothymunson

[mlobsters]

supernatural s1e12 faith (w. sera gamble, raelle tucker)

(this is a rewatch so spoilers abound)

same old story, i'm struggling. mostly convinced my depression (and/or the meds) just shuffle my executive function around but never increase it. imagine a yahtzee cup shaking the dice around, let's see what i get this time

very pretty and reminiscent of xfiles, but better car. cue me searching for the oldsmobile that wasn't terrible in the xf movie, which then i run into the firefox/yt bug so i have to wait 5 minutes for an incredibly shitty recording of a tv playing an xf/oldsmobile intrigue promo to load. this is going great. maybe i don't wanna see our dean get electrocuted

cracking up that they kinda ran into each other. literally attached at the hip. this whole rawhead thing, feels like the actual monstery monsters thing just largely went by the wayside after s1

DEAN Yeah. All right, well, looks like you're gonna leave town without me. SAM What are you talking about? I'm not gonna leave you here. DEAN Hey, you better take care of that car. Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass. SAM I don't think that's funny. DEAN Oh, come on, it's a little funny.

always hard to watch dean being so ready to die. this being the more acceptance of the consequences of hunting type, but watching it with the weight of every other time it's going to happen pushing down on me, buh.

DEAN Look, Sammy, what can I say, man, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story. SAM Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options. DEAN What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it. SAM Watch me.

heaven help whoever gets in the way of sam saving dean

SAM Hey, Dad. It's Sam. Uh... you probably won't even get this, but, uh... it's Dean. He's sick, and uh... the doctors say there's nothing they can do. Um... but, uh, they don't know the things we know, right? So, don't worry, cause I'm uh... gonna do whatever it takes to get him better. Alright... just wanted you to know.

dean's dying but can't count on john for anything, of course. and a little sam/jared nail biting moment

DEAN Well, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot.

come home to hot nurse sammy *rimshot*

SAM You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing? It's crap. I can see right through it. DEAN Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you even slept? You look worse than me.

i spy with my little eye their wee printer back there. sammy in socks, dean in not-logger boots. also i think because of how he dresses a lot of times but jackles really does have long legs. and occasionally will get a shot of them like whoa, right.

SAM I've been scouring the Internet for the last three days. Calling every contact in Dad's journal. DEAN For what? SAM For a way to help you. One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist. DEAN You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you? SAM I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going.

i know that's right!

always here for grumpy weak puppy dean getting annoyed with sam mother henning him. i ended up making all the gifs because it's cute and makes me laugh

DEAN Man, you are a lying bastard. Thought you said we were going to see a doctor. SAM I believe I said a specialist.

cracking me up. it's not my fault you assumed medical specialist 😌

s1e11 julie benz as layla rourke / dexter s1e1 as rita bennett

funny, in an effort to watch something instead of zoning out and being miserable in the evening the other day i put on dexter, i have watched half of the first episode 🥴 but i did meet her character!

YOUNG WOMAN Maybe God works in mysterious ways. DEAN Maybe he does. I think you just turned me around on the subject. YOUNG WOMAN Yeah, I'm sure. DEAN I'm Dean. This is Sam. YOUNG WOMAN Layla. So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here? DEAN Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for the both of us.

sam's little smile to that ❤️

DEAN This is ridiculous. (He slaps SAM's hands away) I'm good, dude, get off me.

😂

truly, worth the price of admission alone

SAM Look, Dean, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on? DEAN Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why. SAM What feeling? DEAN When I was healed, I just... I felt wrong. I felt cold. And for a second... I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, Sam, it was a spirit. SAM But if there was something there, Dean, I think I would've seen it, too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately. DEAN Well, excuse me, psychic wonder. But you're just gonna need a little faith on this one. Sam, I've been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this.

psychic wonder :p sam's little pinched face when dean says he needs to have faith lol harrumph. yeah yeah some guy died, but you're fine so let's go!

s1e12 kevin mcnulty as reverend legrange

i did a hiky for kevin mcnulty for is appearance in spn 10x06, he was in the killing and the magicians too

ROY Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me. I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest. DEAN What did you see in my heart? ROY A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished.

i don't remember if they go into this any more but i wonder how much of this was hinting at the long game (nevermind roy doesn't actually have any powers that we know of). could work for all manner of points along the story within the s1-5 arc for him though

s1e12 gillian barber as mrs rourke / s12e17 as dr hess / the x-files s2e10 as beth kane / under the banner of heaven s1e4 as sister dorren

she's been in a couple of my things too, including four (4!) episodes of the xfiles and uh, she was dr hess in s12 of spn for 3 episodes?? lol no wonder she was familiar. i guess i didn't look her up

oof, that small "i'm sorry" from sam got me. so this scene originally has don't fear the reaper by blue oyster cult, clip here if interested. i don't know that i think it fits that much better, feels like it's just too cheekily appropriate they had to use it somewhere.

i appreciate the dividers not being some godawful cheesy thing but i'm also laughing at how big this motel room is. and full ass kitchen basically, only vaguely kitchenette in the fact that the fridge and stove are like. 3/4 size. it's a cool set but i often think their motel sets are bonkers in one way or another regardless

SAM Wait, what the hell are you talking about Dean, we can't kill Roy. DEAN Sam, the guy's playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book. SAM No. We're not going to kill a human being Dean. We do that we're no better than he is. DEAN Ok, we cant kill Roy, we can't kill Death. Any bright ideas, college boy? SAM Ok. uh...If Roy's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta...figure out what it is. And how to break it.

honestly don't think dean at this point in time would actually jump to killing the human instead of breaking the spell but whatevs :p i can take the somewhat out of character things like dean saying he's proud of sam in s1 and hold tight to them and discard the ones i don't like, like this :P maybe it's because he feels wracked with guilt! who knows!

COP 1 We catch you round here again son, we'll put the fear of God in you, understand? DEAN Yes sir, fear of God. Got it.

can't resist being a smartass to cops

LAYLA I wish you luck. I really do. DEAN Same to you. Layla turns to walk away again. DEAN (under his breath) You deserve it a lot more than me.

sneak in some of that patented dean self loathing

DEAN Desperate. Her husband was dying, she didn't have anything to save him. She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy.

sounds familiar 🤔

DEAN May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work.

amen to that

just happen to whip up a color picture of dean. wonder if she has a printer or she takes it to the 1 hour photo

and dean doesn't even try to get away from the reaper, like yeah. should be dead anyway, and let layla live. just what he wanted

DEAN We did the right thing here didn't we? SAM Of course we did. DEAN (hanging his head) It doesn't feel like it.

(especially when the right thing means dean gets to live)

DEAN Must be rough. To believe in something so much, and have it disappoint you.

like *cough* your dad?? lol

LAYLA God works in mysterious ways. Goodbye, Dean.

mmmk. the draft script says she kissed him, glad they didn't go there

DEAN Well... I'm not much of the praying type... but... I'm gonna pray for you. LAYLA Well...There's a miracle right there.

🤔 ok lol

physically incapable of shutting up about these early episodes

[dimittere]

well, it turns out that starters I've written out on other blogs have been lost, so I'm gonna post this little reminder. I apologise in advance if anyone i'm @'ing has already seen the starters I wrote, I just want to make sure stuff is seen cuz Tumblr is a butt ;u; so, I've completed my event starters for @airofhigherplaces / @relansi / @lachasse / @decollate / @renascar / @scullcss

don't feel like you have to reply to them. I apologise, I've been so late and slow with this event so there's no pressure at all, and to everyone im writing with, im more than willing to continue after the event ends!

[slothspaghettiwrites]

Look @slenbee sent me a very nice centaur gif and it sent me into a wee bit of a rabbit hole. 👀

Save a Horse, Ride 'em Cowboy

Pairing: Centaur!Bucky Barnes X GN!Reader

Warnings: 🤠🤠 me in being inconsistent with everything 🤠🤠, establishing/ed relationship, a sexy pillow placement, it's a bit more... Horsy this time 😅, they fuck, fluid bonding, cumming loads, cream pies and cumming on reader, nipple play, slightly sub!Bucky, unedited and written on my phone

🐎🐎🐎

Bucky has decided he'll never be able to set foot in your apartment again. He just can't. Every time he looks at a piece of your furniture all he can think about is how fucking beautiful you look bent over it. And it's not him imagining it, it's memories from all the times he's 'fucked your brains into outer space'. There is just something about you, the two of you together are explosive.

After the first time, he stayed at your apartment all weekend. It wasn't his plan to do that, in fact he knows Steve was pissed at him for missing their afternoon gym session, but Bucky just couldn't stop. And you were begging him so sweetly to keep going, who was he to deny you or himself? It was only when you ran out of condoms that you both thought some fresh air would do you good.

That weekend feels like a lifetime ago now. A lifetime of fun and laughing and so much sex he thought he might actually die the weekend you went away with friends. But this is serious, he has purposefully invited you to his apartment. A place the two you haven't fucked on every possible surface. He can look at his kitchen island and not instantly get hard.

He stomps his hooves on the thick, soundproofing carpet, his hands fidgeting with his hair. It's ridiculous that he's just standing by his door, waiting for you to ring the buzzer but he is. He got home an hour early, raced through a last minute clean and shower, and now he was waiting for you to get here.

Bucky thinks about doing another sweep of the apartment. He knows he has everything for this weekend- a supply of condoms that would put a brothel to shame, enough lube you could bathe in it, and your favourite movie snacks. This is going to be the perfect weekend.

He nearly jumps out of his coat when the buzzer goes off, but then seconds later you're there. Your face is split into a big grin and your bag is slung over your shoulder. You launch yourself at him like you didn't see him last night or the night before. Your lips collide, your fingers dig into his damp hair, and he finally relaxes a little. Bucky wraps your legs around his waist as he backs into his apartment far enough to slam his door shut.

Your lick and nibble at his bottom lip until he finally relents and lets you fuck your tongue into his mouth. It does what it always does. Everything in his head clouds over and his senses are overwhelmed with you. He gasps, lips slick and struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Twelve hours is too long," you hum against his cheek, your hips grinding against his stomach.

"Sometimes I wonder if you just keep me around for my dick."

It's a joke, a shitty self deprecating one, but that has you immediately stopping. You pull your face far enough away from his, and Bucky can see how his kissing ruins you just as much as you ruin him.

"Buck," you take a deep breath, "I was gonna wait to say this over dinner for some romantic shit, but you clearly need to hear it now."

He freezes. He can't help it. Anxiety drips down his spine and hindquarters. He has to resist the urge to side step, to stomp his hooves, fuck even to shake his head. His instincts are telling him to move to get rid of this energy, but he can't. All he can manage is for his fingers to flex against your perfect ass

"There is so much to you, well beyond the physical. You are the sweetest, most selfless being I have ever met. And you're right, your dick game is impeccable. But I keep you around because I fucking love you."

His knees buckle. His heart jumps into his throat. Whatever he thought you would say, it wasn't that. It couldn't be that, because who could love someone like Bucky?

He kisses you again. Words aren't going to come out of his mouth any time soon, so he has to show you how much your words mean to him. With every lick and suck and scrap of his teeth across your lips, Bucky pours in all his emotions. Your hips grind on harder on to the flat plain of his stomach and your fingers are ripping at his shirt.

"If you don't fuck me, we are gonna have a problem." You groan into his mouth, not begging him but demanding.

It's a blur of knocking over plants and discarded clothes to get to his bedroom. He really needs to find a better place than this tight cornered and narrow halled apartment, but every time he bumps into something you laugh a little and that makes his heart light up. You groan when your back meets the wall beside his bed.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Keep being rough with me and I might cum before you even have a chance to get your dick wet."

Bucky stomps his back hoof, his head dropping to your shoulder. He knows he's blushing and that his cock is aching to be inside you, to fill you, just so he can watch his cum leak out. He shivers as your fingers graze the scars on his back.

"Do you wanna be rough with me? Finally gonna let go and fuck me stupid on your big horse cock?"

"Jesus Christ," he mumbles.

"Too much?"

"Fuck, no, I'm trying not to fuckin' cum from your slutty mouth."

He feels your smile, the apple of your cheek rising up against the side of his neck. Bucky lifts his head so he can see it. Your face shines with mischief and love and Gods how did he get so fucking lucky? He shouldn't question it, he should accept the gift of you.

"I have a second present for you," you smile bigger, dirtier, like the thoughts in your head are running rampant. "I went to the doctor's last week."

"I assume you aren't dying, doll."

"Nope, in fact, they gave me a squeaky clean bill of health."

"Okay..."

"And a certain bird also told me that last time you went you also got a squeaky clean bill."

"I-" Bucky's cheek heat even hotter, pink turning to flaming red. "Fucking, Sam."

"No, fucking me, without a condom."

To emphasize your declaration, you grind hips back against Bucky's abs again. One hand moves into his hair and the other moves to his pec. Your finger circles his nipple until he stomps again.

"Oh... Oh, fuck, doll."

He crashes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Bucky's tongue fucks into your mouth with urgency. When his hands rip your clothes from your body, the moan you make is unreal. His eyes roll back into his head for a moment. He can't believe it, can't believe you.

"Oh I'm just getting started." You slide down his front and push him until his back legs hit the bed. "On your back, cowboy."

It takes a bit of maneuvering, but soon enough Bucky is on his back. He feels ridiculous with his legs up in the air and when you push a pillow under him to support his back he nearly comes off the bed. Maybe this wouldn't work. There is a reason they say don't fix what isn't broken and the way you've had sex in the past is definitely still good.

Before he can make the suggestion, you're straddling his waist, lined up right over his hard cock. You roll your hips gently, teasing him while you pop open the bottle of lube. Bucky moans, can't hold the needy sound in his throat when he sees you.

Your mouth hangs slack as your fingers prepare yourself, fingers working in and out your body. Bucky wants to reach for you, wants to dig his fingers into your hips and make you grind harder and faster on his cock. His fingers twitch and shivers completely down to his hooves.

"Bucky, touch yourself, I wanna see how hard your nipples get. Show me."

He curses, screws his eye shut to keep himself together even as precum smears across his belly. He only opens them again when you stop moving.

"Doll," he draws out, his fingers pinching both his nipples as you grind faster.

Your chest heaves. Sweat glistens across your skin. Bucky wants to come, wants to lose himself in you until he can't think anymore. He twists his nipples harder, hips rocking up as the pain shoots right to his cock.

When your hands wrap around his cock he shouts. His body quakes and his breath rattles in his chest as you rise up. You line yourself up with his aching cock. The tip eases in, you hover for a moment, clenching around him in a teasing rhythm.

"Please, please doll," he pleads.

"Show me you've earned it," you smile, sinking a little deeper, not nearly enough.

Bucky's hands fly off his nipples and dig into the sheets beneath him. They burn a little, ache more than anything. You suck in a harsh breath at the sight of him.

"So fucking beautiful," you moan.

It's a wet squelch from all the lube, the sound of you fucking yourself down on his cock in one smooth motion. Bucky can't take his eyes off you, using him for your pleasure. His cock aches, your hole warm and wet and fucking perfection. He babbles, words of praise fall out of his mouth as he gets to watch you work on his cock. The sheen of lube between your thighs, the sweat on your body, the spit that slicks your lip every time you lick them, it's all so much.

But it isn't enough. He needs to see you covered in his cum. Bucky tries to make that sudden thought, as instinctual as breathing, a string of words that makes sense.

"Cum, fuck, fuck, fuck, doll, wanna cum on-"

His words cut off with a groan, but you get it. You understand him, in a way no one has. Tears spring to his eyes for a moment, but they don't last. The arousal and need burning him demands release. He wants to cum, but you need to cum first.

"Holy-, fuck, yes, gods yes, Buck. I'm so close. Want see you fucking drench me, soak me. Fuck gods. You feel so good."

You sit back, taking Bucky even deeper. He whines, can barely control himself. You stroke yourself in tandem with the movement of your hips.

"Bucky, look at me, look at me cum on your cock. Watch me make a mess."

As if he could look anywhere else, his eyes are glued to where your bodies are joined.

"Fuck, that's it, cum for me, cum on my cock and let me cover you. Please doll, please cum. I want you to cum on my cock," he begs you.

Your release is earth shattering, clenching around him like a vice. He is torn between fucking himself deeper, bathing in the pure pleasure of your body, and the need cum. Bucky starts to cum, feels his lower half begins to lock up.

"Holy shit," you whimper.

You move quickly enough for the rest of his cum to spray across your body. It lands on your stomach, your chest, your face. Gods it's a sight and Bucky feels so fucking good, right in his skins with your fluids on him and his on you. This is right.

"Cream pie dreams," you hum, a lazy grin on your lips and a glow about you. "Could feel you cumming in me, so fucking amazing, we're doing this again... Maybe after dinner."

Your fingers brush across his stomach, soothing and so sweet. The tears from early come back to his eyes. Endorphins and fucking light washes over Bucky and he thinks maybe he's having a vision. He sees you and him, together. Just the two of you growing older and growing more in love. He can't get the image out of his head as he looks at your cum covered body. It's ridiculous given the circumstances, but it makes him so happy. He reaches for you, grapples in this weird position until he's dragged your messy frame up his body.

Bucky kisses your face, licks his cum off your lips and plunges his tongue into your mouth. The taste of you together makes his blood sing. You break the kiss to take a deep breath.

"Love you, doll, can't even imagine how much."

"I love you, too."

[biggest-stupidhead]

Heyy!!

I dont think there's such think as semen donors in aot cannon?

BUT WHAT IF Captain Levi agrees to be the donor to squad leader (or just cadet) reader in a platonic relationship/eventual romance?

Just cute ackerbabies!

Lmao you’re probably right, no semen donors in canonverse. But I honestly love this idea so much, I feel like it would be hard for Levi to make that romantic connection so I could see him making that choice, and maybe it developing into something more!

Summary: Levi can’t wait any longer to start a family, and you are willing to take that step with him.

Word Count: 1.7K

__

You choked on the small sip of tea that you had taken. Catching the small drops of liquid that had escaped your lips.

“Come again now?” You managed to form words after a moment, Levi seemed uninterested as always, those charcoal grey eyes dull and apathetic.

“You heard me just fine, you know that I hate repeating myself.” He scoffed as he shifted so that his leg was crossed over his opposite knee,

“Yes I heard you but....marriage?” You were shocked to say the least. Levi had never shown any prior interest in any long term relationship with anyone, although the two of you had hooked up a handful of times.

“I don’t see why not. We already share a room, not to mention that we-”

“Okay I get it, just...it’s a big commitment and I’m not sure that I’m-”

“Oh please, what else do we have to look forward to anymore? No more fighting, no more political issues to deal with might as well settle down and...” He trailed off, his gaze cast downwards into his cup of tea, which was probably cold by now. You sighed deeply, placing your cup down gently and leaning back into the sofa that the two of you were seated on. His arm was slung casually across the back of the sofa, his finger tips ghosting over your shoulder.

“I know but Levi...marriage?” you were a bit disappointed. He had said it so casually, as if he was asking you if you wanted to run to the market to grab apples.

“If you don’t want to then just say no.” He snapped, clearly getting frustrated, he rose to his feet and began to march towards his desk. You chased after him, catching his wrist. You knew it was difficult for him to express himself, to put things lightly or being considerate to your feelings.

“It’s not that...I’m just a little caught off guard.” You admitted as you held his wrist gently. He let out a breath that he had seemed to have been holding in, he turned and laced his fingers through yours, his other hand diving into his pant pocket. You waited patiently for him to say something, but he only pulled out a small black box. Your heart skipped a beat, this was more how you had pictured being proposed to. He fell onto his knee and opened the box slowly, revealing a modest silver ring with a small diamond embedded in the ring.

“Oh Levi...” Your fingers were still laced with his as he knelt down, you squeezed his hand affectionately.

“I already bought the damn ring, just say yes.” He grunted, averting his gaze as his thumb glided over your knuckle.

“You have a point there.” You chuckled as you gave him a small nod, which was enough of a yes for him.

__

You were married by the end of the month, a simple court house wedding with Armin and Mikasa as your witnesses. Afterwards you had gone home and eaten dinner as usual. Just another week, except now the sex that you and Levi occasionally had, became a hell of a lot more regular. You had no complaints, or at least that was until you were hunched over the kitchen sink puking your guts out. You had missed your period as well, and it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. You decided to wait until you were certain to tell anyone this however, seeing how difficult pregnancy could be, and the unlikeliness of carrying to full term seemed high.

So you made sure to go to the doctor twice before telling Levi that you were pregnant. He’d had a very similar reaction that you’d had when he had asked to marry you.

He choked on his tea, his hand flying to his chin to catch the liquid.

“Pregnant?” He repeated, and you nodded, leaning against the table where he was sitting.

“H-How long until...”

“Give or take seven months.” You shrugged, trying to put on a brave face, after seeing how frazzled he was you wanted to make this as casual as the rest of your relationship.

“So...we should probably start cleaning out that spare room and-” You cut him off by kneeling down and placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that, for now let’s just...enjoy not being responsible for a helpless shitty baby.” You said softly as you slowly sank onto his lap. He hummed his approval, but still seemed rightfully on edge.

“We can start cleaning the room in few weeks, there’s no rush.” You assured him as you scattered kisses across his sour face.

“I’ll start tomorrow.” Levi hummed as he tilted his head to the side.

__

Turned out that you were both in way over your head. Around 12 weeks into your pregnancy Hange was pressing her stethoscope to your rapidly swelling belly when she froze. Levi tensed when he noticed this, and you frowned.

“What is it?” Levi asked as he gripped the back of the exam table.

“Nothing’s wrong...just-”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Levi scowled as he watched Hange continue to feel around your stomach.

“That’s cause it isn’t nothing, I’m hearing two heart beats.” Hange told you as she stood to her full height.

“Two heart beats?” You felt feint at the news, you had known that twins ran in your family but you had never expected to have them yourself.  

“Yes, it appears that you are having twins” Hange said with a wide smile as she folded up the stethoscope. Your vision blurred, the worry that you had been experiencing prior to the appointment had doubled along with the number of children you were having. 

“No shit.” Levi replied breathily as he held your shoulder firmly. 

“If I were you guys I’d go clean out that room now.” Hange advised as she cleaned up the space that you had been using as a makeshift exam room in her office. 

“I’ll get right on that.” Levi said, shooting you a concerned look as he helped you up onto your feet. 

__

The twins were born premature, the labor itself wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. But you realized that it wasn’t that bad because of how small they were. The only reason that they both survived was thanks to the Marleyan medical equipment that had been shipped over courtesy of Zeke and Yelena. You and Levi spent countless hours in the hospital as you awaited for the twins to be discharged. In that window of time you decided on names, it was difficult but you decided on Harrison and Harper. You weren’t surprised to find that they both took after their father, dark bluish grey eyes with a full head of black hair. The one thing they seemed to have gotten from you was your facial structure and your complexion. 

It was a massive relief to bring them home, now instead of staying up until the wee hours in the hospital you could do it in the comfort of your own home. 

One particular evening you were walking laps with Harrison, gently patting his back as you bounced off of your heels as he cried. On your third lap around the entire cottage, you peeked into the nursery to see Levi reclined on the rocker with Harper fast asleep. His eyes were closed, his naked chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. You envied him as you rubbed circles on Harrison’s back once more. His cries slowly died out and you managed to drag yourself to your bed and place Harrison down gently. Using the extra pillows, you managed to make a small barrier between him and yourself as well as the edge of the bed. It wasn’t often that you got to do this, seeing as you usually slept with Levi. But Harrison seemed content with laying in his dad’s spot for the night. His big blue eyes were watching your hair sway over his face as you adjusted the pillows. He cooed and babbled for a few minutes before falling silent, his tiny breaths putting you at ease. 

It couldn’t have been but an hour later when the sound of Harper crying woke you once more. Levi was pacing around the same way that you had been earlier before he finally managed to put her at ease. He returned to your room to see you sitting up, Harrison fast asleep at your side. 

“Care to join us?” You asked, voice gruff with sleep, or rather the lack there of. 

“Would I ever.” Levi groaned as he placed Harper in the pillow barrier with Harrison who was still fast asleep. He managed to squeeze onto the bed, laying on his side like you were as the two of you watched Harper sooth herself into sleep. His gaze left the small baby in favor of studying your features. 

“What would you have done if I had never asked you to marry me?” The question caught you off guard, your fingers were tracing the soft features of your babies. You hummed in thought but the answer was already on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’d have asked you to marry me.” You said with a wry smile and Levi rolled his eyes at your cheesy reply. 

“That’s not what I meant...well not really.” Levi grumbled, you paused again in thought. What would you have done? Certainly no more military work, that chapter was over for you. 

“Maybe I’d open a bakery. My grandmother left me all of her recipes. What would you do?” You asked, finger running along the soft dark locks of hair that were growing from Harrison’s head. 

“I’d open a tea shop.” Levi answered quickly, his own gaze back on the babies, his hand resting on Harper’s stomach, rising and falling with her breathing. 

“Why don’t we just say fuck it and do it?” You asked, not sure if you were serious or if it was the lack of sleep talking. 

“There was that space for lease last time we went into town...” Levi offered thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, we could fix it up and open a cafe.” You said excitedly as you leaned over the sleeping babies in hopes of coaxing a kiss from Levi. He nodded in agreement before leaning over and planting a kiss to your lips. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Go to sleep.” Levi sighed as he stretched out on his side, and closing his eyes. You smiled and mirrored him, your hand resting on Harrison’s stomach now as well, your fingertips brushing his. 

You knew that you’d made the right choice. Marrying Levi was the best decision that you’d made in a long time. It may not look like the typical love story, but you knew that it was real, realer than most relationships. And you wouldn’t want to have it with anyone else. 

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Passion Project (2/4)

Summary:

“Ignoring Hange Zoe had become a little passion project he allowed himself to indulge in, in between expeditions and quietly mourning unnecessary deaths in the battlefield.”

Levi tries to ignore Hange but it never seems to last. A ficlet detailing the development of Levi and Hange’s relationship before canon.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters: 1 3 4

A fractured ankle, fractured ribs... for a month....

The important thing is he's alive. Fighting thirty titans… death for most soldiers.

It would be a shame to lose him… We don't get soldiers like that everyday.

The voices were distant but they were the first coherent sounds Levi made out as he adjusted to the waking world. His first instinct after making sense of it was to sit up, only to be greeted by a dull pain and a taut sensation around his chest.

He looked down to see bandages woven tightly around his chest, leaving him almost completely immobile on the bed. Even if he did get to sit up, his numb ankle would have made standing up a tall order.

"You're finally awake."

Levi settled for turning his head to his right. The lights in the room were dim and his vision relied on the faint light emitting from the room to make out the shape of the person by his bedside. "Hange…How long…"

"You were asleep for three days and you'll probably be here for a month." Hange was quick to answer his questions.

Levi was grateful for it. His throat was dry and just the first two questions had already left him burnt out.

"I’ll call Erwin and Commander Keith in.” Hange stood up and turned towards the door. “You woke up at a good time. They’ve been busy with preparations for the next expedition so they’ve only had time to visit for an hour a day.”

After engaging in conversations in hushed voices just outside his hospital room, Hange reentered the room, their two superiors following behind her. The conversation was short and formal and only served to repeat what Levi had overheard outside just a second ago.

One month in the hospital.

Forget about the next few expeditions.

You did a good job against 30 titans.

Levi had attempted a nod the first time, only for his head to protest that subtle movement.

The two were possibly being understanding or were just a little too busy that day. Regardless, as soon as they deemed Levi updated enough of the current events, they left and once again, it was just Hange and Levi in the room.

Hange spoke up. "I thought you were amazing out there."

Her praises were nothing new. Levi found himself more surprised by the fact that the young brunette's voice was much softer than usual as if it was her way of adjusting to the natural silence of the sick room.

Levi kept his eyes trained on Hange and the latter looked to be aware of it. She moved the stool by the bedside and sat on it.

"I managed to count them before their bodies dissolved. Thirty titans…" It was as if Hange had run out of air at those last two words. "You're really something else..." Her voice was definitely softer, but the tone was the same as it always was. It was that same tone that rang so painfully in his ears that first time they met. Oddly, it was starting to sound like music to his ears then.

"But you used too much gas. Maybe I should be giving you a lesson on that." And just like that, with one sentence and one smirk, Levi witnessed the return of that grating tone.

“And how often did you visit?” Levi asked, in an attempt to digress from that topic in particular. The last thing he wanted while stuck in bed was a lecture on carelessness. That ordeal was more than enough of a lesson.

Hange smiled. “I left a few times?”

“You left a few times? You mean you left this room a few times?”

“Yeah?”

“So you don’t visit. You just stay here and…” Levi let his eyes finish that sentence for him.

Hange made no attempt to deny it. She put one hand behind her head and sheepishly looked away. “The hospital room gets pretty quiet and it’s easier to focus here.” She explained.

Levi looked to the side table to see what looked to be books and documents, quickly shifting his attention elsewhere before she saw what could have been disappointment in his eyes. He shouldn’t have been disappointed though. He should have been relieved that her hanging out in his hospital room wasn’t at all motivated by some complex short of what one would see in a stalker. Despite that, he wished she had been there for him.

“Have you showered since then?” At that point, Levi was just looking for ways to take out his own frustrations. He was sure of her answer before she even said it.

Or chose to avoid saying it. “I didn’t have time…”

“You’re fucking disgusting. This is a hospital, you’re just gonna get everyone here sicker with your shitty hygiene habits.” Levi painfully turned to his side, biting back in the process. “Go home and shower,” he managed to say. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Hey! I’ve been waiting for you to wake up and now you’re going to kick me out like this….”

Somehow her annoying protests had made that painful movement all the more worth it. He managed to unearth some scraps of amusement from her momentary fit that fizzled out to a quiet disappointment that had her leaving the room grumbling.

A combination of foot stomping and whiny protests were enough to get Levi's lips curled up and into a subtle smile. She couldn't see that at least from where she stood.

Depriving Hange of those little things she visibly wanted turned out to still be as satisfying as it had been before. And with nothing much else to think then, surrounded by plain white walls, Levi couldn't help but remember the passion project he had started so many months ago.

And it still burned strong, strong enough for him to feel a glimmer of victory at having to hear hushed hissy monologues and footsteps too heavy and loud to have been anyone in a good mood.

The glimmer dissipated faster than Levi had expected and he was immediately reminded that he was alone with just his thoughts.

And he couldn't help but reflect on the fact that Hange's presence would have made his thoughts all the more interesting to engage in.

She'll be back. He told no one in particular. It was a difficult pull to swallow. Alone with not much to do but stare at the blank white ceiling, Levi reflected. And with that reflection came a begrudging realization.

He preferred her there.

                                    Passion Project

The recovery didn't take a month as the doctor said it would have. Within a few days Levi was sitting up. Within another week he was walking, if not limping out of the room. And within two weeks of waking up, Levi was back in the barracks, finding a way to make himself useful among the bustle of preparations for the next exhibition.

Erwin wasn't letting Levi near ODM gear any time soon though. Although Levi was sure he could have gone through a lot of the training on land with at least bearable pain, flying through the air, while keeping one's balance through only cables and gas was another story.

The prospect of exposing their best soldier at an injured state to the danger of titans seemed a little too excessive for Erwin and despite Levi's quick healing, he was still barred from joining the next expedition.

"Why don't you join the research and logistics team for now? I'm sure they'll need some extra hands since they've been working on new anti-titan weapons."

That meant spending all the more time with Hange.

Levi shouldn't have expected any different. Yet somehow he was surprised. The shock possibly only appended by the fact that while he was still in the process of accepting this new arrangement, he had encountered Hange in the lab in the wee hours of morning. No one really expects anyone in the lab at 2am.

He had gone there in particular to survey his new environment without having to exchange pleasantries with anyone from the research and logistics team. He had expected a thirty minute visit at the most to just see what experiments they have been working on and any records to make the process of a first meeting them a little more bearable.

The room wasn't empty. To make it all the better, the only person there at two in the morning wasn't someone he would have explained pleasantries with anyway. Her presence never implicitly demanded that level of politeness after all.

In fact, it tended to naturally elicit the opposite reaction from Levi. "Why the fuck are you doing here so early in the morning?"

He had said it too more roughly than he had intended. She had been a little too focused on mixing a colorful formula on a glass beaker and he had so quickly assumed he wouldn't have gotten her attention any other way. Or possibly, he had just been in the process of stifling a little frustration when he had said that which manifested in that rough tone he had called her out with.

It turned out, she didn't even notice that greeting he overthought.

"Hey four-eyes!" Levi hissed, as loudly as what would have been socially acceptable in the wee hours of morning

To only further add to his frustration, Hange's gradual shift to reality had been slow. When she looked up at him, Levi was sure she wasn't even looking directly at him.

"Oh… Levi!" She managed to say, a few long seconds after they first made eye contact, or at least the first time Levi initiated what should have been eye contact. "It's been a while."

It had been a while. Three days before he had been discharged, Hange had stopped visiting. He had only been discharged two days ago. Which put their last meeting to more than five days ago, a long time when compared to the fact that she had spent every day in the hospital with him.

WIth the sudden shift in Hange’s behavior, Levi put himself through unnecessary torture of attributing it to that one night he decided to ignore her so she could shower, despite the fact that she still had come back every day since then. Erwin had visited after that, even Commander Keith and even the squad he had saved in the last expedition. He had been tempted to ask where Hange was, ultimately deciding against it. His emotional investment in Hange seemed one secret he would rather have kept to himself.

But, by god it was torturous. Although at face value Hange seemed like an open book with the way she was constantly flitting between emotional extremes, Levi eventually realized she wasn't.

Surface level emotions were open for the world to see. With the amount of time he spent overthinking every action she had ever made back in the hospital room, from those long tirades about new experiments to the new black tea her parents would be sending over to the plans for the next expedition , Levi realized there was still a layer of Hange he hadn’t peeled back yet. Behind the heart she wore on her sleeve were emotions, motivations and desires she hadn’t shown anyone yet or possibly did not understand herself. He felt it in every single tirade of passion she threw at his face. The passion seemed true, the words seemed authentic but there was a nagging feeling inside him that he still had a lot to learn about the crazy brunette.

Because of that, Levi had found her to be incredibly unpredictable, only further supported by the fact that she had failed to visit him his last three days in the hospital, not bothering either to have greeted him after he had settled back in the barracks. It wasn’t like she was obligated either.

Either way, he found himself having to seek comfort in the predictability of watching Hange go through the motions of mixing chemical after chemical. After their too casual and maybe too brusque of an exchange, Levi had settled on a stool and quietly watched. She had been too focused to kick him out anyway.

"You know how signal flares have this tendency to malfunction in the rain?” It was Hange who spoke up first despite having been too focused on her little experiments.

“Yeah?” That was all Levi could say. Maybe if Hange had started with any other topic, he probably would have said anything more. That question had reopened old wounds, and it was constantly rubbing salt on them as he waited for Hange to continue. He had always suspected the malfunctioning of signal flares to have caused the death of Isabel and Farlan during their first mission outside the walls.

“I think I found a way to get the signal flares to show even during rainy days. Maybe, if we could get this working, we might be able to prevent unnecessary deaths in future missions.” Hange went for a beaker, mixed a few chemicals together which incited a mini green explosion in front of him. “This could save lives…”

Despite the water Hange had sprayed all over the green of the air, the green remained glowing and strong and the whole show had him speechless.

She shouldn't have known. The way she had so gracefully gone through all the procedure so methodically yet so deftly, in the way Levi never would have been able to replicate had him only staring, his mouth agape.

The color green had never looked so comforting until then. The whole time the green smoke stayed in the air before dissipating into anything, Levi felt like he could have been in a dream.

It had him forgetting whether or not she had eventually probed on the unfortunate deaths of his two best friends.

He ended up opening up about it anyway.

                                       Passion Project

Levi still wasn't allowed to do combat training but Hange was.

And Hange had enough enthusiasm about ODM gear for them both. In that one moment after long hours in the lab, an hour before the sun was to set, that enthusiasm was what had her pulling Levi back into the woods as if the day had just started.

There was less reason to hide behind the excuse of "I'm too tired" given that Levi couldn’t actually train and he never had much to contribute in the lab aside from odd jobs. It's not like he ever employed that excuse anyway.

With his lack of reason to be tired, Levi resigned himself to spending days after training watching Hange go through ODM drills.

"Your cables are everywhere. A titan can just grab onto that if you're not careful.” Levi said. “As soon as your up in the air, just use your gas. It gets you to your target faster than with the cables."

"Should you be telling this to me after you ran out of gas and almost died?"

That was enough once of a comment once again to silence Levi momentarily. Hange didn't stop to assess the effects of that one comment though, having busied herself trying to mimic Levi's ODM movements. Hange had taken for her own one of the larger oak trees in the forest where they practiced. The tree trunk was gnarled and branches stuck out so randomly, Levi had to agree it was a good way to practice.

Even unmoving, the tree was an unpredictable target. It had numerous branches surrounding it that only twisted and turned so wildly that Levi could feel the beginnings of a headache as he attempted to follow each one. If he squinted a little harder, he could even pretend it was a titan.

Hange probably did have a swell time pretending it was a titan. He could hear it in the loud and swift whizzing of chords, the characteristic explosion that came with the release of gas and of course, the excited screams.

You were amazing out there. Hange had said, while a little breathless only a few weeks ago. Levi was never one to take in compliments and had clocked that to a little bout of maybe asthma on her side. Or maybe she had forgotten to take in some oxygen before she said it.

At that moment though, he understood the breathlessness that accompanied amazement. The branches grew so close together that Hange only had the luxury of gaps small enough for maybe only one person to pass through. Hange had whizzed past each branch, dodging them so gracefully, while barely leaving an opening big enough for even an insect to squeeze through.

With the chaotic pattern ---or at least lack of pattern--- at which the gnarled branches spread out, Levi couldn't help but see an artistic dance in it all, and a rhythm to follow. The art, the spectacle that only he that late afternoon had the luxury of witnessing, had him forgetting to breathe.

And he only did breathe when Hange plopped back down on the ground and Levi was quick to notice the deafening absence of the familiar sound of the cables whizzing back into the gear.

Her face was flushed, her skin glistened with sweat. The sunset illuminated Levi’s view and he saw shades of orange and purple reflect on her. She approached him. She entered the shade and within a second, he had lost the view of her he had been so gingerly enjoying.

“I think I get it,” Hange said.

“Get what?” It would have been a ridiculous request for Levi to tell her to stay back so he could enjoy the reflection of the sunset on her eyes. So he kept his response brief, a little penalty for that part of him that even suggested that Hange had been a joy to watch.

“You might be right, I think I’ve been using my cables too much. It’s much easier to move when they aren’t constantly pulling at me.”

Levi stifled a smile. He wasn’t going to show her how sweet it had been to be proven right. Also, a part of him had been a little disappointed she hadn’t denied him that luxury of being correct. He was in the mood for a little argument after all.

“But it doesn’t change the fact that you still used too much gas.” The opening for an argument was introduced soon after Levi lamented that wasted fuel.

Levi opened his mouth ready to mouth off. He hadn’t decided what to say it, ready to leave it to his sharp experienced tongue to discern the best comeback at that moment. He had wanted to insult her movement, the little dance around the trees. Her performance was perfection though and despite being able to come up with shitty jokes within seconds, nothing in her performance had been worth poking fun at.

To his relief, she interrupted him. “You know what though, I figured out something which might be just as useful for you.” Hange unfastened her gas canisters. “Try carrying it.”

Levi held one of them to see that it was still much fuller than what he would have expected from watching her only a few seconds ago.

“I found a way to conserve gas. I notice you used to carry yourself, you’d let the gas pull you. What if you bend your body a bit and curve your back, to make yourself easier for the gas to carry you through? It helped a lot for me, I definitely felt lighter, like I wasn’t resisting as much as I used to. Probably won't be able to maneuver as well as you though."

Levi did not bring his gear then so it had been a little difficult to imagine. By what could have been a silent agreement, Hange unfastened her ODM gear from the cables to the canisters and dropped them in front of him. “ Why don’t you try it?” She offered.

It had only been a few weeks since he woke up to diagnoses of internal bleeding and broken ribs that would have taken months to heal. At Commander Keith’s orders, Levi had stayed in the sidelines, no intention on trying anything with ODM for a while, especially with ODM gear which wasn’t his. ODM gear was custom fit for every single soldier after all.

It had only been a week but as Levi stood there, trying on the gear that should have been a few pounds too heavy for him, his body did not protest the weight. Jumping onto the tree with the help of the cables had felt a little awkward but it could have been the unnatural weight of ODM gear a few sizes too big.

Regardless, it was enough to see the difference. Hange had suggested he curves his back as he bent over and that he moves with the ODM gear. Don’t let the gas pull you.

He kept focused on Hange as she repeated the tips from the foot of the tree. The change was almost instant. The breeze was stronger, the air colder and the rustle of the leaves around him only louder as he moved.

Hidden among the sounds of the blowing wind, the rustle of leaves and the explosion of gas, he heard it. He had been too high up in the air for it to be any louder but it was definitely there, distant cheers, gasps and avid screams. They were the only two there so it could have only been from her.

He never found out how long he had been up there zipping among the branches. He called it a day when the sun was dark and his ribs started to whimper a little, manifesting in the form of a stitch on his right side.

As he landed back down on the roots of the tree, Hange was already there waiting for him. The dim light made it difficult to see the smile on her face. But it was there. Levi found himself wishing for at least some natural light to make it all the more visible.

“You might just be humanity’s strongest soldier,” Hange said as she moved to unfasten the gear for him. “Maybe that’s why you recovered so fast?

                                         Passion Project

“Tea?” Hange asked.

“Tea,” Levi answered

Just like before the injury, they were back to drinking black tea.

Levi was grateful for their history. On his end, he did not need to verbalize any of that. It had slipped into their routine after training to seek comfort in the malty yet astringent taste of black tea.

Somehow, Levi was relieved to realize she hadn’t forgotten that. It had been months since their last tea date after all. They had been occupied by preparations for the expedition, the actual expedition and the recovery that followed, to have continued that mini routine between them.

With the rations of before completely consumed, they had to get their fix elsewhere. They had silently made their way to that specific hole-in-the-wall tea shop Levi would frequent along the corners of Trost district. The exhaustion at having practiced the ODM gear after a long days work finally did catch up to both of them. The only exchange they did comfortably manage while taking the almost one hour long detour to the shop being the mention of that one common luxury between them.

Only after they settled down on one of the benches in front of the shop, when Levi finally had the tea in front of him and the luxury to enjoy the illuminated streets in Trost did he realize one crucial thing.

“Did you know this was my favorite shop?”

Hange gave a light shrug, careful not to jostle and spill her own tea.

“There are bigger shops in Trost. This isn’t really anyone’s first destination” It suddenly felt weird that he was the one a little talkative at first.

Hange took a sip before answering. “I did my research.”

“What kind of research? For someone who forces me to listen to rambles about other research, you’re awfully quiet about this one.”

The brunette sighed. Not one of defeat, but seemingly one of comfort and maybe a little amusement. “I saw you here in Trost during a few days off and I kinda followed you.”

Levi didn’t reply and only waited for her to continue. Having to carry the conversation of a few minutes ago with the last two lines had him a little tired.

“I was a little curious, wanted to see what a strong yet quiet soldier did in his free time so maybe I could learn a bit. I thought that maybe I could actually get stronger if I followed some of your habits.”

Why didn’t you ask me? Levi couldn’t blame her for stalking though. As he recalled pretty quickly, he hadn’t been the friendliest person in the beginning either.

“When you enter the shop, you'd order the exact same thing every time and you had this sparkle in your eyes when they serve it to you… Just like now!”

Levi suddenly felt self conscious of that spark in his eyes. Instead of looking away though, he found himself looking at her eyes, searching for a reason to point out how pathetically her own eyes probably sparkled. As he locked eyes with Hange though as she said it, he saw the way her own eyes sparkled under the dim street lights, only complemented by that wide smile on her face and the music in her voice.

“I guess you really love tea huh? Even the most emotionless soldiers have to have some passion somewhere to keep living.”

A Passion for tea? The way Hange had said it, had Levi almost spitting out his tea at the outrageous claim. The strong passing thought of not wanting to waste that good cup of tea or destroy the mood that accompanied it was enough to hold it back in his mouth.

"Relax, Levi.” Hange said. Levi wondered what kind of face he was making for her to look at him in an almost patronizing manner. “I have my own passions too.” Hange continued. But it’s a relatively new one. Not as old as your obsession with tea probably.”

“What is it?”

“I wanna do lots of research on titans. I‘ve already prepared five project proposals to submit to Erwin already and I think I’m gonna end up writing ten more before this month ends."

Levi had to note that it was the third week of the month already.

[harryskalechips]

This sucks Part 2

A/N Here is the new part two for this sucks. Thank you for all the feedback and for calling me out for the shitty ending of the last version. I rewrote this part with a mixture of the old one. I’m not sorry about the last version but I did want to rewrite this and give this one-shot some justice. I thought this would be more appropriate for our plot. Lastly, I want to say thank you for your support. Without you, I would not have a place to share my work. Anyways, if you read the last version and is content with that, You don’t need to read this but for my lovely angsty cravers. I serve you a full plate of depression. Enjoy xxx  

Word count 3456

Part 1

“Get the fuck out, Mitch.” Harry slurs to his guitarist as he tries his best not to fall back onto his hotel bed. He kept tripping and stumbling onto the mattress and that’s exactly why he doesn’t want it to happen again.

“Dude, you have a show tomorrow. You’ve been getting drunk every night and I don’t think it’s good for your career.” Mitch leans on the side of the wall with his arms crossed. His sarcastic reply just showed how tired he was about Harry acting out. He missed the last tour when everything was good... despite his breakup with Camille in the near end. At least, Harry wasn’t trying to drown himself in alcohol that time. 

“You don’t know what’s best for me!” Harry grips onto the desk in front of him and reaches over his bag to grab the beaten journal. “Now leave me alone, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ve never seen you this fucked up before, Harry. You know we’re all here for you.” Mitch shares his disappointment as he watches Harry throw himself on the couch and dive into his journal. When Love on Tour first started, he was very quiet but as the shows progressed, Harry’s frustration began to seep through. Everyone could tell he was angry at himself. Obviously, heartbroken. 

As Mitch stood in the corner of Harry’s room observing him, Harry tried his best to write something on the paper. He needed it to seem like he was focused. After a couple minutes, his friend leaves the room making Harry rub his face in relief as he throws his journal on the floor. 

Fuck this. fuck this. He repeats in his head as he raises his hips in the air, trying to grab his phone from his back pocket. His eyes are lazily open as he taps on the screen searching for the green phone app. He looks for his favourites and out of fake shock, he stares at the only name on it. Y/N. 

Giving a call once a day showed Y/N, he wants her back but calling her multiple times a day? Y/N had to know he was desperate. 

The number you have reached is not in service or is temporarily disconnected. 

The automated voice he hears every time repeats. It almost felt like she was laughing at him for being so pathetic. Out of anger, he tosses his phone on the floor and lays on his stomach. It felt weird being so angry and sad at the same time about a relationship that only lasted for four months but Harry knew it was the best relationship he has ever had. So maybe everyone can fuck off a bit because he just lost his girlfriend without actually being able to fight for her. 

~

“Harry, you haven’t been answering your sister or your mum. They’ve been calling me to check up on you. Would you like me to schedule a time for you to call them.” Harry’s secretary Andy, asks him as they approach his private jet. They’re on their way back to America since he had just finished the European leg.

“No, but next time they call, tell them I said to fuck off.” Andy nervously swallows the lump in her throat and nods.  

It’s been months! Months after Harry and Y/N’s break up but Harry can’t help but still feel anger at his family for being so close-minded. For hurting her.

“Harry, Camile has also been calling. She’s wondering what show would you like to see her at so we can send her y’know… the tickets.” Harry just scoffs at hearing his ex’s name. Of course, he started talking to her again early this year but after realizing he was in the wrong, he wanted nothing to do with her. 

“Ignore her. I can’t talk to her.”

“Alright.” Andy types on her phone writing down something on her notes. Harry just takes a big sigh and looks out the window. Tour could’ve been fun this year. He could’ve brought Y/N to France, to Italy, to Brazil! But I mean, he couldn’t even be with her in London after she left his stupid ass. Gosh, he hates it here. 

~

“When I wrote this song, I was in a dark place after a relationship of mine ended.” Harry darkly looks around the arena as he fixes the wire of his mic behind him. “I’m a very private guy but let me share one more thing with you all. I fucked up. This song is not even what I’m talking about but it does make me a bit sadder because I did become that guy I didn’t want to be.” His eyes couldn’t help but tear up as he watches his fans look at him in sadness. Fuck, he’s been drinking all the time and all he feels is guilt because these past shows, he was pretending to be happy. Yet he knew he wasn’t even close to that feeling and so did everyone around him.

As the familiar keys began to play, Harry couldn’t help but not look at any of his fans. He had to close his eyes and feel his pain.

I’m falling again, I’m falling again. I’m falling.

~

The number you have reached is not in service or is temporarily disconnected. 

~

The number you have reached is not in service or is temporarily disconnected. 

~

The number you have reached is not in service or is temporarily disconnected. 

Harry rolls his eyes and tosses his phone on the couch. Tonight is his last show in North America. After this, he’s going to be heading south although, it already feels like he’s been heading in that direction for a long time.

“Come in,” Harry yells out coldly as he looks at himself dressed and ready to go to perform tonight.

“It’s just me, Jeff.” His manger lets himself in as he looks at the boy. “The Forum. Remember performing here the first time you released the album.” Harry just nods as he plays with the loose thread of his journal.

“She’s here tonight.” Harry chokes on his breath as his heart beats faster.

“Y/N?” He looks up immediately as he watches Jeff very carefully. “She’s here tonight?” He asks again for confirmation. Maybe, he heard him wrong?

“While we were in London and you were ignoring your family, I decided to give her a call.” Harry just scoffs as he glances at the TV of his fans singing to one of his old songs. 

“You called her? She probably thinks I’m pathetic.”

“You are pathetic! Do you think I don’t know you call her all the time?”

“Her phone number isn’t even in service.”

“Exactly. Pathetic.”

“Where is she sitting tonight?” Harry decides to change the subject as he glances at his phone on the couch. 

“Premium... more on the left side. Look, dude, I gave her an extra ticket to bring a friend but as I was checking in with Mark on visuals, I noticed her with a guy.”

“She brought a guy?” Harry couldn’t help but fist his hands. I mean he’s already had about 60 shows and it’s been 5 months but why did it surprise him, she’s here with another man? Funny to think she claimed she was falling in love with him. Maybe that guy was just a friend but he knew otherwise.

“I’m sorry H. I thought seeing her tonight would fix your relationship but it doesn’t seem like it.”

“I don’t care.” Harry loses his tie. “Maybe, it was a good idea I started talking to Camile again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Oh but I do.” ~

The show was on full swing now as Harry’s fans were screaming and cheering for him. His hands leave his mouth as he blows kisses to everyone in the room. As he searched the crowd throughout every song, he noticed how some faces were familiar to him. They must’ve been here last night too. After watermelon sugar, Harry turns his back from the crowd to take a drink as Mitch plays his solo for the tour. 

He didn’t want his fans to see his frustration but he was losing his mind. 

“Where are you going?” Sarah loudly whispers as she watches Harry walk off the stage.

“I’ll be back” He cuts her off and takes his water bottle with him as he quickly walks off the stage, waving to his fans.

“Harry, what’s up?” Jeff exclaims as he rushes to his side. “Do you need anything?”

“Where is she? I can’t find her.”

“Do you expect yourself to catch eyes with her tonight? You know full well that’s not even possible.” Harry rolls his eyes as he watches some of the workers moving around.

“Get someone to lead her backstage after the show.” He instructs Jeff coldly. He needed to make sure that Jeff followed through with this.

“Mr. Styles, we’re going to need you back on stage.” An unknown girl with a headset interrupts their conversation. Harry just nods as he turns away from Jeff.

“I need to talk to her... please.”

*** 

“You alright babe?” Robbie wraps his arm around Y/N as she smiles back without a response. It was weird being in the presence of another man during Harry’s concert. She always expected to be by herself watching him. To be with him before and after the show but tonight... she’s just another fan. 

Y/N met Robbie on her flight back to LA after a dreadful trip to London. It was depressing. Walking in the streets alone. Taking awkward selfies at the big ben. What she hated the most was the sad frown she kept on her face or how her heart grew with anxiety when she asked a stranger to take a picture of her at the tower bridge.

“Sorry everyone, I had to take a wee.” Harry runs back on stage as he gives off a smile to everyone. For some reason, Y/N  had a feeling he was lying. Usually, he would run back on stage but it seems like he wasn’t even in a hurry. The wrinkles on his forehead as he stared at the floor made her think there may be more on his mind than what he’s showing.

“So usually in this part of the setlist, I would be singing Cherry but tonight, I wanted it to be a bit more special. I���ll be singing Don’t Let Me Go. A song I wrote back late 2012’s. Luckily, Mitch and Charlotte already know how to play it.” (A/N This makes me sad ugh)

Don't let me

Don't let me

Don't let me go

Cause I'm tired of feeling alone

“Can’t believe you know this guy, babe! He’s amazing!” Robbie crosses his arms as he takes a sip of his beer.  Y/N holds onto the rail, trying to not breakdown. “Hey, Are you crying?” Her boyfriend reaches out to her as she watches Harry looking at them. She doesn’t think he can see them but the way he kept glancing at the area she was in, he knows she’s here. 

“Yeah, it’s just a really sad song.”

“Ms. L/N?” A woman with a headset approaches the couple. 

“Yes.” 

“Hi, I’m Amanda, Mr. Styles would like you backstage after the show.” Robbie flashes a big smile as he looks around them hoping no one is noticing their interactions with the lady. 

“We’ll be there.” Robbie cuts in as he wraps his arm around his girlfriend. Y/N tenses up as she awkwardly smiles back at him.

“Actually, his instructions were very clear and he only wants Ms. L/N.” Her eyes widened as Robbie pulls away from her. 

“Thank you.” She smiles and glances back at Harry.

“I’ll have someone get you during our last song.” and with that, Amanda walks away while Robbie coldly glares at Harry who’s taking a sip of water as the song comes to an end.

“Is there something going on between you guys?”

“No.”

“Why does he only want to see you? You never even told me how you two met!”

“Okay, Robbie. Calm down. I’ll explain later. He and I are just friends.”

~

Y/N follows the boy down the hallway as she hears Harry’s fans chant out his name. It’s been months since she had seen him and if she was being honest, Y/N never thought she would again. But Jeff sounded so sad and concerned about him that she wanted to see him. Despite breaking all her ties with him, She still thinks about him every day.

Y/N looks at the TV screen and notices the lights were now on and Harry and the rest of his band were off the stage. Robbie is probably sulking as he walks to his car right now. She thinks to herself.

The door harshly opens as Harry comes in all sweaty. “Hey.” Y/N waves at him as she quietly sits on his couch. He takes his jacket off and hugs her without another word. “You’re so sweaty.” She couldn’t help but laugh as she feels his familiar embrace. Maybe, laughing would ease off the awkward tension. 

“I missed you Y/N.”

“I missed you too H.”

“I never thought I would see you again.” He sits on the couch beside her and runs his hand through his hair.

“I’ve always been excited to see one of your shows live.” She couldn’t help but brush her hair out of her face. Here is the man she was falling in love with. The man she chose to forget. 

“How did Jeff get in contact with you? I tried calling your number a few times and it wasn’t in service.” Harry bit his lip at his question. He knew full well he called her number at least three times a day.

“I keep in touch with Glenne.” She watches Harry scoff. “What?”

“You can keep in touch with her but you can barely talk to me?”

“Our trip to London was a sign that we shouldn’t be together, Harry.” Y/N couldn’t help but get flashbacks from her traumatic trip. She was so excited to meet his family, only to find out they already hated her before she stepped foot inside their house.

“That trip was not how it was supposed to go. I had plans to make you so happy.”

“That’s funny since the only plan that came through was me finding out you started talking to Camile again.”

“Did you mean what you said to my mum?” He ignores her last comment as he watches her carefully. She shrugs her shoulders in confusion then it suddenly hits her… he’s talking about London. “I heard it all.”

“Oh.” She looks away from Harry and stares at the pattern of the rug in his change room. “Yeah, I meant every single word.” Y/N plays with her cuticles trying to keep herself from remembering that sad trip. 

“I’m sorry about what happened. Camille was a big part of my life and I wanted to start seeing her again. Not like romantically but the way I still talk with Kendall.”

“It’s okay. I think it needed to happen.” Harry’s eyes flash in confusion. Last time, he spoke to her, they were so sure that this relationship would work out. Now, she’s managed to change her whole idea about them and that hurt a lot. Especially since she’s all he thinks about.

“Why would you say that?” He stands up in anger.

“Harry. Your mom and sister hated me! You clearly have or had feelings for Camille and you were going on tour We wouldn’t have worked out!”

“Are you blaming me?” He crosses his arms. He was offended. 

“No.” Y/N rubs her face in frustration. “It was nice what we had, Harry. Believe me but now we can’t be together.”

“What? Why? Because you have that stupid prick as your boyfriend?”

“Yes.” Y/N stands up as well, preparing herself to leave. He grabs his journal from his vanity and opens it. He flips the pages as Y/N watches him in confusion. 

He rips random pages out and crumples them. He takes her hands and forces her to take them. “I’ve been in love with you! Goddammit, just take me back!”

“Harry…”

“Look, I have more! I’ve been writing about you every day. I’ve been writing songs about you.” He looks at his journal one more time before closing it and throwing it on the floor. “I wrote this whole damn book about you!” 

Y/N begins to cry as she watches the strong man she has always known break down in front of her. “I can’t… Harry. Please.” He goes on his knees and takes her hands full of crumpled paper. 

“You never even gave us a chance baby. Fuck, I should’ve stopped you the moment you walked out that door. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Y/N couldn’t bare herself to look at him as she feels his hands on her.

“You should have gone with me to the store that day. I should’ve shown you around my town! Now I can barely talk to my family because they remind me of who I lost. What I lost!”

“Harry. I don’t want this anymore. I’ve always been scared of our relationship. I can’t handle this.” It’s true. She watched romantic movies her whole life and the more she admired those types of relationships, the more she didn’t want one herself. Y/N knows her life isn’t a movie but if Rachel McAdams cried her heart out during The Notebook while in character, she can’t imagine what else Harry can throw at her so she can experience that type of heartbreak. She needed a clean break from him. Robbie was her safe choice. 

“I love you, please.” He shakes his head in frustration. “I dream about you. I think of you. I need you!”

“I can’t!” She shakes her head as she tries to help him up. She takes the crumpled paper and runs to his vanity as he stands behind her, confused. She eagerly tries to flatten them out. She bends down to grab his journal and tries to place each page back in the book. 

“What are you doing?” He approaches her. “Those are for you!”

“No Harry! These are for you. I need you to keep these. I need you to remember us.”

“I need you to remember us.” He whispers and grabs her wrist to stop working. “You forgot about me.”

“I had to. I needed to.” She looks at the mirror and watches his eyes in the mirror.

“I thought we were stronger than this.”

“It’s been five months. You should move on too, H.” She pulls away from Harry and continues to fix his journal. She remembers the nights he would write in the leather book. How calm he looked. How happy he was. 

“Just admit it then! You took the first problem that occurred and used that to leave me!”

“Fine! I did! I admit it!”

“You’re just as bad as me then!”

“You were in love with Camille!!”

“Then why do I feel like dying every day ever since you left me!”

The silence makes Y/N’s heart beat faster as Harry finally lets out his last thoughts. He takes hold of her hips and pulls her in close to him. He glances once at her lips then stare at her eyes. 

Y/N didn’t know what to do. Her mind was screaming at her to pull away from him and leave but her heart wanted something more. Ironic enough, that familiar thump in her heart has always been present. The guilt she felt when she first started dating Robbie. The ache she felt when she watched Harry’s interviews late at night. Now, it was asking for something different. Something more. She holds onto the back of his neck as she kisses him. Harry pushes her back onto his vanity, helping her sit on it. 

Lips so familiar. Taste so heavenly. A scent so intoxicating. He needed more. She missed him. 

“I’m sorry fuck I’m sorry.” Y/N pulls away and pushes his chest a bit lightly. 

“Tell me you don’t love me anymore. I’ll let you go.” He lets out. He was hoping that it wasn’t true. This would be the only way to trap her into admitting that she wants to be with him again. He’s selfish. It’s true.

“You know that wouldn’t be true.” Harry’s heart skips a beat.

“So, stay with me. I need you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“I love you but I can’t.” She moves off a bit and hops off his vanity. She takes a deep breath and looks at him. “I think you’ll find someone for you.”

“Do you love Robbie?” He ignores her last statement. Truth be told, Y/N doesn’t. She began dating him two months ago and all she thinks about is Harry. 

“Yeah.”

“You’re lying.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m lying! Harry, please don’t let me go through this again.”

“I’m sorry. I just hate seeing you walk away from me.” She gives him a soft smile as she takes her phone from her pocket.

“I have to go. Robbie just texted me. He’s angry.”

“Will I ever see you again.”

“Probably not.” 

“So what? You’re going to keep avoiding me from now on?”

“I think I might have to. Take care H. Take care of yourself, please.”And with that, Harry watches Y/N walk out of his life for the final time. 

He takes his journal and walks to the couch. He lazily slouches as he takes a random paper out. It’s about her, of course, it is. He places the sheet on the top of his heart and closes his eyes. “This sucks.” 

Maybe, this was the closure Harry needed but for some reason, his heart was hurting more.

part trois

[eskel-and-goat]

Imagining Geralt and Jaskier playing that egg game going around is really fucking funny to me. Not only does it get on both of their nerves, but I think they’d also be extremely competitive.

Jaskier is a little drunk, having a few bottles with Geralt will do that to you, and calls over the Witcher for a game, showing him a simple brown egg in his right hand, and a mug he took a while ago from some shitty inn. What he got was a slowly interested Witcher who sat down silently, as if to say ‘go on.’

Jaskier tells him the rules, how you lay the egg down, put the mug over it, and then slap your hand on top of the cup. Geralt thought it was strange, maybe some rich boy game Jaskier did when he was but a wee lad, and decided to give in. Once they started, it was just them tapping the top of the mug. It was stupid, Geralt was about ready to stop, until Jaskier picked up the cup.

Listen, Geralt likes planning. He’d say he’s considerably “neat”, he just didn’t like last minute things, it makes him feel rushed, and unprepared. So when he came down on that poor little innocent egg with his bear (no it’s not misspelled) fucking palm, he pauses there. Blank. Frozen where he sat. Jaskier cackling is not helping his situation.

Betrayed by the very bard who was brave enough to sidekick a Witcher, Geralt nodded, bringing his hand up and flinging yolk at Jaskier, who was still laughing. Geralt learned the game pretty fast after that, and it ended with Geralt 15, Jaskier 11.

I would also like to think that they bring that game back to Kaer Morhen, Eskel caught on quicker than Geralt, Lambert always got pissy about it, and Vesemir was just as determined as his pups.

[mortedeveles]

Model For Me

HERE: PART FIVE.

PART ONE. PART TWO. PART THREE. PART FOUR. PART SIX. 

Summary: Y/N has always been a timid and awkward person and artist when it comes to social interactions and it only gets worse when she asks her crush and best friend, Katsuki Bakugou, to model for her.

And not just any type of modelling; Y/N needs to do a composition of a nude male body. Luckily for her, Katsuki’s personality is anything but shy and he doesn’t hesitate to undress in front of her. It’s for art, he says. But something tells Y/N that the boy has hidden and devious intentions, intentions that she has to unravel and discover.

Copyright © 2020-2021 by Veles.

Genre: fluff, humor, suggestive content (a wee bit of NSFW themes)

TW: cursing, sexual themes, nudity.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!artist!reader

________

QUIRK: LIQUIFY! Y/N can manipulate any type of liquid to her advantage and can also melt inanimate objects, but doesn’t work on animals, plants, or people. And at night time she can make any type of liquid into a solid!  

_________

a/n: hellooo! i have an AUTHOR’S NOTE at the end and I would appreciate if you guys took the time to read it! as always, please leave a like, follow, reblog and/or comment if you enjoyed! i really appreciate it! 

I don't like Katsuki.

I don’t like Katsuki.

We're just... friends.

You kept repeating the words in your head for a week, but it was useless. You were lying to yourself and you knew it- the feelings you had for Katsuki weren't platonic.

They had never been platonic, perhaps at the beginning of your friendship they were, but not anymore.

Since your last modeling session, you did your best to stay under the radar and avoid Katsuki. What he had said was simple and true, but whenever you recalled the moment, you wanted to scream. Maybe avoiding him wasn't the best idea- considering the fact that he hated being ignored, but you couldn't handle being close to him.

You had been perfectly aware that you had a crush on Katsuki but when he stated that you two weren't anything, why were you trying so hard to convince yourself you didn't like him?

Every glance you shot his way made your heart ache. Watching from a distance only reminded you of reality- you're nothing to him. Just a friend.

You were a friend and nothing else. He was way out of your league- you would never be able to tangle your life with his.

He was one of the top three of 1A, possessed a marvelous quirk and although he could have murderous tendencies, his determination and strength left you breathless.

But...you? You were only becoming a Pro Hero because your parents had pressured you into it and you didn't have a choice. If it was up to you, you would be a professional artist. Liquify wasn't an extraordinary quirk, compared to Katsuki's.

You were nothing compared to him.

These negative and insecure thoughts flooded your mind for the next few days, and without even realizing, you had placed some distance between your friends and yourself, including Katsuki. 

It was Wednesday and throughout the entire school day you had escaped from Katsuki- twice. Today you had your art class and you desperately needed to talk to Aneko. 

If you could talk to someone- Aneko in particular- about your current situation, you knew that it would remove the invisible weight from your shoulders.

Ranting out loud had always helped you calmed down and it was just what you needed today. Though, the interactions you avoided with Katsuki today were making you feel more stressed and overwhelmed by the minute.

When the final school bell rang, you blocked out any noise and began to pack your materials quickly. You didn't notice how Katsuki called out for you twice and how there was a glimpse of sadness on his face before it was quickly replaced by an angered expression. Or how Mina was carefully watching the scene.

You were a foot away from stepping out of school grounds when a pair of familiar warm and heavy hands clamped down on your shoulders. 

You practically ran out of the school buildings and picked up your speed when you heard Katsuki's explosions. By the sounds of it, he was not happy.

You can do it, you thought. If you can just make it to the end of the day without talking to him, everything will be fine.

''Fucking hell!'' he growled. ''Do I always have to grab you like this, you shitty girl?!'' you were used to Katsuki's shouts and insults, but this time his words made you flinch.

No, no! You wanted to scream. I can't face Katsuki today, not right now! Why can't he leave me alone?!

Your body froze on the spot, but you refused to turn around. One look at his bright red eyes would render you useless.

''Why the fuck won't you look at me?!'' he forcefully turned you around but you struggled to meet his gaze.

''I...I'm...,'' your face was burning out of embarrassment but just as you predicted, your heart ached when you met his gaze.

He was so, so close to you and yet, so far out of your reach.

''I have to go,'' you murmured and tugged his hands away from your shoulders.

 Katsuki stared at you with a bewildered look and you grew painfully aware of the sudden audience you had. Several students were near you, watching the scene develop as they giggled and murmured with each other.

''Hah?!" despite the aggressiveness in his tone, Katsuki dropped his hands and glared daggers at your head as you walked away.

You didn't dare look back and your entire body was tense- fearing that Katsuki would shout or chase after you. But once you took notice that he did neither, you felt your body relax.

Though, Katsuki never took his eyes off you. He watched you with a peculiar expression as you fled from the school. 

Once you arrived at the train station and stepped into the train, you sat down and pressed your palm over your heart. It was racing and the thumping of your heart roared in your ears.

''Everything will be okay,'' you murmured to yourself. You made sure to keep your voice low enough so no one besides yourself could hear.

''You'll get through this.'' 

When the train roared to life and the journey to the recreative center begun, you closed your eyes and doze off to the sound of your heart beat.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━  

''Y/N. Let me see your progress,'' you quickly handed over your art piece to your teacher. She hummed and pushed her glasses onto the bridge of her nose, raking her eyes over the details that held all your effort.

''It's looking beautiful so far, Y/N,'' you smiled and clasped your hands together. Her compliment made your heart swell.

''Thank you, miss!" you outstretched your hands to receive your artwork but faltered when your teacher frowned and stared closely at your work.

''Is this...this boy seems very familiar...'' she murmured. You felt panic invade your veins and you discretely took your artwork with a shrug.

''Maybe you've seen him on TV, miss! I wouldn't know, he's just a friend of mine...,'' you laughed awkwardly and quickly stashed your work into your backpack. Aneko was watching the two of you with a mischievous smile and once your teacher nodded and stepped away to attend other students, she laughed loudly.

''Afraid that sensei is going to steal your boyfriend?'' she winked but you felt your stomach drop at her words. ''Don't worry, he only has eyes for you,'' she crooned. You groaned in response and shook your head. 

''I don't want to hear about Katsuki again,'' you grumbled angrily. Aneko frowned and crossed her arms.

''Wait, why? Is everything okay between the two of you?''

Your hand faltered and hovered above your backpack and you swallowed visibly.

''I...I don't know,'' you murmured and sighed loudly.

Aneko frowned and clutched your hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

''I would really like that.'' 

''If you want to talk about it, I can come over today,'' the teasing tone in her voice had quickly left and there was nothing but concern and understanding in her voice.

You smiled and nodded. 

Half an hour later, you find yourself sitting on your bed. Aneko is sitting next to you as the two of you munch on unhealthy snacks.

''So?'' Aneko asked between bites. ''What's up?''

You sighed and dropped the snack on the bed. This would take long.

''As you know, I've had feelings for Katsuki for like, since the beginning of studying at U.A. We've only been friends and that's okay with me, but something changed in the last session.'' you let out another dramatic sigh and grab a chip.

''Actually, since the second session, Katsuki has been acting a bit weird...'' you grumbled and crossed your arms. ''He's been oddly quiet and sometimes even distant and well, mom was home in our last session.''

You heard Aneko choke and splutter. Her reaction made you laugh and shake your head in amusement. 

''Oh my god,'' Aneko cackled. ''What did your mom say?!''

Nervously, you scratched your head and slumped your shoulders.

''There's the problem. Um... so we were having dinner together, and my mom asked us if we were a couple of and-,'' you were interrupted by Aneko's loud laughter. 

''Jesus!" she wheezed and turned over in your bed. You snickered. ''Did she really say that?''

Your face warmed up at the memory and you nodded. ''Yeah! It was really embarrassing. Anyways...'' you faltered and lowered your voice. ''The thing is, I just said and Katsuki well, he said that we weren't dating. But when he said that, I don't know why it hurt so much? His tone was so cold and firm...'' You groaned and buried your head in your hands.

''I don't know what's wrong with me,'' your words were muffled behind your hands.

You heard Aneko sigh and gently remove your hands from your face.

''Nothing's wrong with you, babe. You like the guy, and that’s why it hurts,'' she offered you a smile. 

''Tomorrow's our last session and I don't know what to do.'' 

Aneko hummed in response. She grinned deviously and clasped her hands together.

''Well then, that's it! Tomorrow, you should confess your feelings at the end of the session,'' 

Your mouth went dry and you swallowed thickly. 

''What?'' was the first thing that came to you. ''No, I can't do that...''

Aneko sighed and cradled your face between her hands, making your cheeks look squishy.

''You can and you will, honey. The boy likes you, that's obvious. You should at least tell him how you feel,'' Aneko's gazed drifted away but quickly returned to you, this time with a grin on her lips. ''And who knows? You'll probably score a date for the weekend!" she shot you a wink. 

''Just relax, Y/N. Don't overthink it. He likes you, and everything will be perfectly fine. Okay?'' she smiled softly.

You nodded and inhaled deeply. Aneko was right. You were stressing over nothing! Tomorrow would be the last session and by the end of it, you would make sure that your feelings were known to Katsuki.

But knowing your luck, things wouldn't go as planned.

''You're right,'' you forced a smile. ''There's nothing to worry about.''

hi guys! can’t believe i have 100 follows this fast. i really appreciate all the fb and support i receive from everyone <3 to celebrate 100 followers, i will be OPENING my REQUESTS! here’s some of the basic information;

-i will open my requests for 5-8 slots

-i will share a prompt list and you can choose a number, character and whatsover!

-my requests will be available for MHA and JJBA. 

reminder: my requests are not open YET. i will post an individual post with all the details explained! this is just like an intro. if you’re interested, stick around to stay updated! xx 

TAG LIST:  @bakugou-is-my-daddy @justanotherlifeff @seokookchan @playboygeniusphilanthropist @awwjesus-gross @jenna-sakura @mykuronekome @ggclarissa @irenevyas @mrstodorooki​ @warmchoccymilk​ @coupsieddori​ @yikerb​ DM me if you want to be on my taglist or if I forgot to add you!! 

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

stephanie perkins: ‘anna and the french kiss’

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Then again, if you’ve read any YA book, ever, it’s fairly obvious what’s going to happen.

I was going to go easy on this book; I really was. It’s really unfair how media aimed at a female demographic is seen as frivolous and vapid, and more often than not bashed and bullied when it comes to reviews. “People actually enjoy this crap?” ask the powers that be. “It’s worthless! Pulp! Dreamy-eyed nonsense only complete nimrods could ever like!”

And I take offense to that. There’s nothing wrong with liking romance or happy endings or stories about cute European boys. I was ecstatic when I stumbled across Anna and the French Kiss upon a chance trip to the bookstore. The cover was… meh (Century Gothic? Really? There were no other fonts?). But I’d heard nothing but praise about the book, and I was prepared to stay up all night and into the wee hours of the morning to finish it.

Admittedly, I was far from impressed upon the first reading. The characters were unlikable, the plot would’ve worked better for less shitty characters, honestly fuck these characters am I supposed to like them, fuck Anna, fuck Étienne, fuck Bridgette, fuck Toph, fuck Dave and Meredith and Amanda and Seany and every other stupid character in this stupid book.

The second time around, I expected to not hate it as much as I did when I first read it. It’s happened- I hated Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda when I first read it, and when I read it again, all that red-hot anger simmered down into an overall dislike. I thought To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before was trash at first, and then I read it again, and it got promoted to recyclable waste matter.

I found Anna and the French Kiss horrendous the first time I read it, and then I read it again, and… yeah, it’s still pretty awful.

Le Sommaire:

Anna Oliphant is a seventeen-year-old wannabe film critic who is #NotLikeOtherGirls – so she’s exactly like every other female YA lead. To her credit, she never explicitly says she’s special… everyone around her does.

She has a pretty meh life in Atlanta, Georgia with her mum and little bruv Sean- and then her dad decides to ship her off to France for her final year of high school. I’m not judging Anna for bawling her eyes out on her first day; I’m a huge mummy’s girl myself and I’d probably (definitely) do the same.

Meredith is Anna’s next-door neighbor, who does that thing which only happens in YA where she’s like “Oh, newbie? Let’s be friends!” (Or maybe it does happen irl and I tend to make a bad first impression which is why no one has ever approached me.)

Meredith’s friends are: Rashmi and Josh (who are a couple), and Étienne St. Clair. Guess which one is the love interest.

Étienne is cultured in that white person way where he’s half American, one quarter French and one quarter British. A true international.

But- *gasp*- American-British-French boy has a girlfriend, Ellie.

Anna has an absolutely gorgeous punk rocker (yum) boy with sideburns (yikes) back home named Christopher. Also, Christopher’s nickname is ‘Toph’ instead of ‘Chris’ because he too is #NotLikeOtherGirls. Anna tells us that nothing will happen between her and Étienne.

Anna is wrong.

Meredith has a crush on Étienne. So does the Regina George of the school, Amanda.

Étienne and Anna have some moments ™.

♫ Everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but Anna ♫

I tear my hair out in frustration.

Several other white boys vie for Anna’s heart. Anna remains blissfully unaware (♫ that’s what makes you beautiful ♫). Étienne (who is still dating Ellie, mind you) is unreasonably agitated by this.

Étienne’s mum has cancer btw, which excuses all the shitty things he does, because he’s just a poor, misunderstood boy.

Ellie dresses up as a, quote unquote, ‘slutty nurse’ for Hallowe’en, though- so it’s perfectly okay to dislike her (even though, in the first interaction she had with Anna, where Ellie meets Anna and Étienne, after Étienne takes Anna to the movies, Ellie is perfectly sweet).

Anna, however, is NOT a slut. Amanda is, though. And Rashmi’s cold. And Meredith’s desperate. And Emily’s a slut, too. And her friend Bridgette from Atlanta is a traitor. Anna has an intense case of internalized misogyny.

Anna’s friend Bridgette from Atlanta is screwing Toph, and Anna throws a fit.

Étienne and Anna have some more moments ™.

A truly chaotic series of events befall Anna. She somehow winds up dating Dave (one from the harem of white boys who likes her) to spite Étienne, she gets into a fight with Amanda, more drama ensues, there’s a hint for a spinoff, Étienne and her kiss, Meredith sees and feels betrayed… several misunderstandings and more bullshit later, Étienne and Anna wind up together, because true love conquers all.

Mes Réflexions:

(If the French is off, blame Google Translate.)

Usually, it takes me half a page of my notebook to scribble down my thoughts about the book I’m reading. This motherfucker took me almost an entire page.

Granted, a solid 30% of those notes are me throwing insults at Étienne, but still. ‘STOP STOP STOP YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND YOU DICK’ counts, right?

(That was #17 in my notes, by the way.)

For the record, I like Stephanie Perkins’s writing. It’s not as over-the-top and unnecessarily introspective as Jenny Han’s in To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, and the interactions between Anna and her classmates were natural and not the “How do you do, fellow kids?” style of Becky Albertalli’s Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda. The pacing is decent- I didn’t feel like it was too rushed; not the insta-love trope most YA romances unfortunately fall prey to.

And yet. AND YET.

Anna: “What’s your problem?” Amanda: “You.”

Same, Amanda, same.

Anna Oliphant is one of my least favorite leads in a book, ever. Étienne’s even shittier. And it’s not like Nick or Amy Dunne from Gone Girl, or any of the main characters from The Secret History, where readers pretty much unanimously hate them. You’re meant to relate to Anna, you’re meant to find Étienne charming and dreamy. I literally had to put the book away and calm myself down several times- especially in the last quarter of the book.

One of my main gripes with Anna is how… dumb she is. I guess Anna’s “Oopsies, silly me, I don’t know French!” is meant to be relatable to the readers. And some parts (like her not knowing how to order food because she can’t speak French) are plausible, but- sis, you didn’t know how to spell oui? And my idea of a cinematic masterpiece is Kung-Fu Panda, but even a dumbass like me knows that France is the film appreciation capital of the world. And yet Anna, a self-professed film freak, doesn’t?

Of course, Anna’s gorgeous, but she has no clue, because of course she doesn’t- even though she has multiple guys falling head over heels for her.

I’m in a short skirt. It’s the first time I’ve worn one here, but my birthday seems like the appropriate occasion. “Woo, Anna!” Rashmi fake-adjusts her glasses. “Why do you hide those things?”

Étienne is staring at my legs. The scales covering them throb under his intense gaze, and the pincers sticking out of my thighs start clicking rapidly in arousal. My hooves shiver in ecstasy.

… sorry, that’s not funny.

Her friends think Anna’s weird for wanting to write film reviews (which is the most contrived thing I’ve ever heard) instead of being the next Margot Robbie or whatever, but of course Étienne doesn’t and he thinks it’s not weird and cool and that Anna is such a special snowflake.

(Man, I sound like Amanda.)

And then we have this spiel by Anna about how she got into film critiquing (?), because we the readers need to know how special and #NotLikeOtherGirls Anna is.

To this, I say, “Piss off, you pretentious fuck.”

Of course, Anna’s a virgin and she’s never gotten drunk before or worn short skirts- she’s not a slut, she shaves below the knees only.

And would YA really be YA without several hearty helpings of internalized misogyny?

First up, we have the bimbo; the Barbie doll archetype whose only goal in life is acquiring the main guy (who is quite obviously uninterested in her), and making life hell for our protagonist. Amanda Whatsername (is she ever given a surname?) has this coveted role in Anna and the French Kiss. She’s blond (because of course she is); the first time we meet her, she’s in a, quote unquote, ‘teeny tank top’, and she also ‘positions herself for maximum cleavage exposure’. She’s always flipping her hair, getting her grubby paws on Étienne, giving Anna the stink-eye, being homophobic and a grade-A bitch.

Meredith goes batshit when Anna and Étienne kiss, and is very pouty and unhappy during prior Anna x Shittiene moments. Honey… he’s just not that into you. Rashmi’s the Ice Queen reincarnate and halfway to bitchdom. Anna doesn’t go as hard on them as she does on literally every other female her age in the book, though.

Rashmi looks at me for the first time, calculating whether or not I might fall in love with her own boyfriend.

Anna, hate to break it to you, but not everyone’s a possessive fucking weirdo.

About Cherrie, her ex-boyfriend Matt’s new girlfriend:

And maybe Cherrie isn’t as bad as I remember. Except she is. She totally is. After only five minutes in her company, I cannot fathom how Bridge stands sitting with her at lunch every day.

Her lifeless laugh is one of her lesser attributes. What does Matt see in her?

Even Bridgette, Anna’s best friend from Atlanta, isn’t immune to Anna’s anti-female propaganda. She’s screwing the guy Anna used to like, and Anna, the hypocrite, throws a huge fit.

For context: Bridgette and Toph are in a band called the Penny Dreadfuls (why is it with YA books and horrible band names? ‘Emoji’ from Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda was bad enough), and Anna + Matt + Cherrie go to a bowling alley to see them perform. After the performance, Toph announces that he’s sleeping with Bridge, and Anna confronts Bridge… onstage.

“… You’re welcome to move in when I leave again, because that’s what you want, right? My life?”

She shakes with fury. “Go to hell.”

“Take my life. You can have it. Just watch out for the part where my BEST FRIEND SCREWS ME OVER!” I knock over a cymbal stand, and the brass hits the stage with an earsplitting crash that reverberates through the bowling alley. Matt calls my name. Has he been calling it this entire time? He grabs my arm and leads me around the electrical cords and plugs and onto the floor and away, away, away.

Everyone in the bowling alley is staring at me.

I duck my head so my hair covers my face. I’m crying. This would have never happened if I hadn’t given Toph her number. All of those late-night practices and… he said they’ve had sex! What if they’ve had it at my house? Does he come over when she’s watching Seany? Do they go in the bedroom?

I’m going to be sick.

Give me a goddamn break.

Anna, about Ellie:

To my amazement, Ellie breaks into an ear-to-ear smile. Oddly enough, it’s this moment I realize that despite her husky voice and Parisian attire, she’s sort of… plain. But friendly-looking.

That still doesn’t mean I like her.

“Anna! From Atlanta, right? Where’d you guys go?”

She knows who I am? St. Clair describes our evening while I contemplate this strange development. Did he tell her about me? Or was it Meredith? I hope it was him, but even if it was, it’s not like he said anything she found threatening. She doesn’t seem alarmed that I’ve spent the last three hours in the company of her very attractive boyfriend. Alone.

[about Ellie’s Hallowe’en costume] Slutty nurse. I don’t believe it. Tiny white button-up dress, red crosses across the nipples. Cleavage city.

If I didn’t like Ellie before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. It doesn’t matter that I can count how many times we’ve met on one hand.

I fantasize about their break-up. How he could hurt her, and she could hurt him, and all of the ways I could hurt her back. I want to grab her Parisian-styled hair and yank it so hard it rips from her skull. I want to sink my claws into her eyeballs and scrape.

It turns out I am not a nice person.

YOU DON’T FUCKING SAY.

Emily Middlestone bends over to pick up a dropped eraser, and Mike Reynard leers at her breasts. Gross. Too bad for him she’s interested in his best friend, Dave. The eraser drop was deliberate, but Dave is oblivious.

One of the juniors, a girl with dark hair and tight jeans, stretches in a move designed to show off her belly button ring to Paul/Pete. Oh, please.

And I’m meant to like this character? I’m supposed to root for her?

I’m not saying every girl in the book should be perfectly sweet and friendly- that’s just not realistic. But when Anna has something judgmental to say about every other young female character… maybe she’s the problem.

In fact, the only girl I recall getting a pass is Isla Whatsername. And why do you think?

Brilliant.

And now we have the amalgamation of almost every fanfic boyfriend trope from 2014, Étienne St. Clair. Brown-eyed Harry Styles. I can’t fucking wait.

Étienne could’ve discovered the cure for cancer, or abolished poverty, or volunteered at animal shelters in his spare time. He could’ve been the most virtuous guy around (fret not; he decidedly isn’t). And I still wouldn’t’ve thought of him as the man of my dreams because HE HAS A BLOODY GIRLFRIEND.

I mean, which girl doesn’t want her boyfriend to say:

“I cheated on her every day. In my mind, I thought of you in ways I shouldn’t have, again and again.”

Fuckin’ smooth, bro.

“No matter what a terrible boyfriend I was, I wouldn’t actually cheat on her. But I thought you’d know.”

Such a gentleman!

“So you can keep dating Ellie, but I can’t even talk to Dave?”

Étienne looks shamed. He stares at his boots. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t even know what to do with his apology.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. And this time, he’s looking at me. Begging me. “And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need more time. To sort things out.”

And this gem:

“If you liked me so much, why didn’t you break up with her?”

“I’ve been confused. I’ve been so stupid.”

*me, banging pots and pans together* F U C K Y O U

“Ellie’s not like you, Anna; she’s a slut and a whore even though I’m the one who’s been thinking about another girl inappropriately and I’m the one who gets my knickers in a twist when another man glances in your direction because my masculinity is extremely fragile and I’m a total hypocrite and a dickhead.”

I mean, he didn’t actually say that, but that’s the gist.

WHILE DATING ELLIE: he gets Anna a book of sexual love poems, he calls her attractive (“Any bloke with a working prick would be insane not to like you.”) multiple times, he gets jealous whenever another guy so much as breathes in Anna’s direction and constantly interrupts such interactions, he’s been ditching his friends for his girlfriend but suddenly decides he prefers a new girl over said girlfriend, he thinks bread pudding tastes good- in conclusion, he is a Massive Fucking Prick. Though in hindsight, him and Anna deserve each other. They’re awful.

I had loads more notes taken down (Anna using Dave; “The important thing is this: Dave is available. St. Clair is not.”); the implication that cheating is okay because Ellie is bad or whatever, even though the sudden change in her character seems contrived because she was perfectly okay with Étienne and Anna hanging out before; how my blood boils whenever I read an American book and American girls are like “oOoOh AcCenT!!!1!!1!!”; me reading “DAVE SAYS YER A SLUTBAG” in Hagrid’s voice; the sheer atrocity of the name ‘Étienne St. Clair’ (sounds like a caricature of a French person)… but this ‘review’ is already pushing 3k and I can’t be fucked to expand on any of those points.

Verdict (which is apparently the same in French):

Who needs Christopher when Étienne St. Clair is in the world?

Speak for yourself.

[sakusas-personal-hole]

sugawara please 🧎‍♂️

It has been a MONTH since you requested this I am sorry for being so shitty /.\ I hope you like it tho 🥺

pairings: Sugawara Koshi xF!reader

wc: 2.1k

Warnings: reader&suga are 3rd yrs (18), first kiss “practice”, friends to lovers, dry humping

“Well, what movie should we watch?” you asked your group of friends. Daichi, Asahi, Kiyoko, and your best friend Suga were sitting on the couch of your living room, debating on what to watch. Your hangouts were a monthly occurrence, closely coming to an end. Graduation was creeping up fast. Despite all this, you all still could never decide on a movie to watch.

“How about Spirited Away?” Kiyoko suggested. It was one of her favorites, everyone knew, and no one could say no to her. Everyone agreed and you put it on. You sat next to Suga, cuddling up to his side to enjoy the movie. You two shared a bowl of popcorn and m&m’s, your favorite movie snack. 

None of this was unusual, you and Suga had been best friends ever since you two sat next to each other in year one of middle school, and fate just so happened to allow that to happen every year since. Now, you were both in your third year, and attached at the hip. He had you become a volleyball manager in both middle school and high school, so there was rarely a moment you spent apart. Your close friendship with him often came with drawbacks, though. None of your romantic interests would bother with you, and just like everyone else in your class, they thought you were Suga’s girlfriend. Unfortunately, you were painfully oblivious to this. No one told you, but it was practically an unspoken rule that most of the people in your class had. You always complained to the other third years, saying you could never get anyone, and they all silently agreed on the reason, never telling you directly, but trying their best to hint at it.

“Maybe they’ll talk to you more if you ask to sit with them at lunch,” Kiyoko said.

“But I always sit with Koshi, what if I invite them to sit with us?” You asked quizzically.

It was almost comical how oblivious you were to the situation, but Suga? He knew. He was almost prideful at the fact that people wouldn’t try to get in between you two. It was wrong of him, yes, but he loved you. Ever since middle school, he knew he did. He wouldn’t try to advance these feelings, though. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, and he couldn’t tell if the feelings were reciprocated or not, so he never went further than you ever did. 

Although, Suga would be lying if he said he didn’t think about you, especially into the wee hours of the night, cock in hand. He would be lying if he said he didn’t check you out while walking behind you, checking out the bit of thigh that puffed out of your thigh highs, up to the curve of your ass underneath your uniform skirt. He would be lying if he said he could barely control himself when you had sleepovers and you were rubbing up so nicely against him in your sleep. 

You snuggled closer to Suga, your eyes getting heavy as the film continued. You had seen it many times, so you didn’t feel too bad missing out on it as you felt yourself drift off. Suga looked down at you fully asleep at his side. He wrapped an arm around you, letting you sleep through the movie. 

Before you knew it, you were being carried off to bed by Suga. You didn’t realize you slept through the rest of the movie AND your friends leaving your house! You assumed Suga cleaned up the living room. You were now awake from your nap, eyes still groggy and squinting from your bedroom light that Suga turned on to use to change. 

You looked up at your best friend, only to be met by his half naked frame. You darted your eyes down as your cheeks heated up. Suga slipped on the sweatpants and sleep shirt he kept at your house and turned the lights off, climbing into his spot next to you on your bed. 

“Goodnight, y/n” he yawned.

“Actually, Ko, I’m not that tired.”

“Oh, alright. Wanna talk about something?” he replied as he turned to his side to face you. Your mind raced. Was there something you wanted to talk about? You didn’t know what you wanted to say. 

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” It was a stupid question to ask, but you panicked. How should he know why?

“Because I reject all the girls who confess to me,” he said coolly. 

“But why? People don’t even talk to me, I wouldn’t even know how to act if someone confessed,” you began. 

“Y/n, you know I don’t have feelings for those girls, I wouldn’t want to lead them on,” he interrupted.

“Well don’t you ever want to get some things over with?”

“What do you mean?” Suga asked you, confusion evident in his voice.

“Koshi, we’re 18 and we still haven’t had our first kisses yet. Don’t you ever want to just get something like that over with? I know I do,” you said, mumbling out the last part.

“Well yeah, but I wouldn’t do it with just anyone. I would want it to be memorable with someone who actually means something to me, not some girl from class 3 whose name I won’t remember after graduation.”

You both laid in silence for a moment, the whirring of your ceiling fan taking up the silence you two were left in. The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating, as you thought of what to say next.

“Do you want to try?” you squeaked out, your voice higher than anticipated. Suga’s eyes widened and his breath hitched in his throat.

“What do you mean?” He asked, just to make sure he understood you right.

“Don’t I mean something to you? I mean, we don’t have to, I was just saying, it could be like… practice? For the real thing.”

Suga’s mind raced a thousand miles a minute. He obviously wanted to, but there were multiple things stopping him. Why would you ask him? Did you actually care, or did you want him to be a practice run and leave him after that? That didn’t make sense, the two of you had been best friends for so long, why would you wait that long to leave?

The longer he thought about it, the more embarrassed you became at your proposal. “We don’t have to, it was stup-”

“I want to,” Suga interrupted. “But… you aren’t going to just leave me afterwards, are you?” Suga mentally slapped himself for acting so vulnerable, but he had to know before he did this. 

“Koshi, of course not! I would never leave you!” You said, a bit too eager to start. You were seeing Suga in a different light than usual tonight. Something inside you just needed him. Maybe you were touch starved, or maybe the thought of him rejecting so many girls made you want him even more, but your feelings towards him were definitely showing tonight. You had known you had feelings for him since high school started, and now you were actively trying to get him to notice. You did small things, like wear thigh highs when you knew he would walk behind you, hitching you skirt up a little higher than usual. You never thought the feelings would be reciprocated, but the way Suga was acting with your question made you rethink your original conclusion. 

You and Suga sat up and faced each other. The glimmer from the moonlight and street lamps peeked through your blinds, illuminating his gray hair and creating a beautiful silhouette. You looked at him, your best friend of many years, unsure of what to do next. You were both inexperienced, unknowing of how to approach the situation. Before you could continue thinking how to approach the situation, you felt Suga’s hand settle itself behind your head, softly bringing your face to his. He used his other hand to rest on your cheek and guide his lips to yours. His lips finally met yours, the chaste kiss sending even more warmth throughout your body. Your lips started moving with his so naturally, as though they were built just for one another. 

You didn’t know how long the kiss lasted, but when Suga pulled away, you felt it simply wasn’t long enough. You stared at each other, lips parted with heavy breaths escaping them. You were glad the room was dim, so he wouldn’t see the red hue that inevitably flushed your face. After a couple seconds, Suga spoke up.

“Do you want to go further?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. He was afraid to ask, afraid of what you might think, but there was a larger part of him that overpowered all fears, a part that wanted you more than anything.

“Yes,” you whispered back in the same fashion. You didn’t know exactly what he meant, you didn’t know exactly how far he wanted to go, but whatever he wanted to do, you wanted it from him. You felt the bed move as Suga shifted his weight forwards, capturing you in another kiss. This one felt different, his lips had more pressure against yours, it felt confident. 

Suga knew he wasn’t experienced, but that didn’t mean he was going to act like it. His confidence grew as he kissed you harder, running his tongue across your bottom lip. You gasped, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You weren’t sure what to do, but you continued, hesitantly swirling your tongue around his cavern, exploring the depths as he did the same. You were closer to him than you ever had been, but you needed to be closer. You craved it. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him down with you as you laid down, he was now on top with your arms wrapped around his neck. Neither of you dared to pull away, the intense emotions flowing through and connecting you at the mouth were too powerful to stop. You didn’t even pull away when you felt a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. 

Suga’s cock was getting harder by the second, the feeling of you beneath him was something he wanted ingrained in his mind forever. He was propped up on his forearms, his legs tangled up in your own. His thighs encased one of your own, allowing him easy access to rut himself against you. He didn’t, though, not yet. 

Suga suddenly pulled away for a moment, just to flip you, your clothed pussy sitting right on top of his bulge. You pulled him right back to you, feeling so needy just for him. The feeling of his hardening member was sending the warmth he gave you straight to your core. Remembering how he asked if you wanted to go further, you decided to test out what he really meant by that. 

You rut your hips against his, gauging your next move based on his reaction to that. He inhaled sharply, kissing against you harder. You took that as a good sign and continued to move your hips against his, unable to even comprehend the pure pleasure the movement was shooting through your body. It wasn’t long until Suga’s hands were kneading at your ass, roughly grabbing at your plush skin. Neither of you would last long like this, ecstasy rushing through your veins as you finally lived each of your fantasies. As expected, a large, dark stain bloomed across the front of Suga’s sweatpants as he moaned into your mouth. The sound of him finishing was just what you needed to push you over the edge. Your grinding became erratic as your high overcame you, whimpers and moans filling the room. 

As you both calmed down, the room was once again quiet. Neither of you moved from the position you were in, both of you once again unsure of what to do next. You looked down to see Suga with a small smirk on his face. His smirk grew until he began to giggle, his body shaking from laughter. You began to laugh with him, realizing how this situation came to be, realizing how stupid you must have been to not see how badly he wanted you too. You collapsed into Suga’s arms, and he stroked his hands along your back, lulling you back to sleep. You could worry about all the little details tomorrow, all that mattered now was that whatever just happened was definitely not going to be practice for anyone else.

[silverinia]

I came for Baranski, I stayed for Baranski - a quick Christmas On The Square review someone* actually asked for

(* thank you, anon)

Disclaimer: I am in no way a professional of any sorts when it comes to film and I'm not a journalist either. The last movie review I've written was probably for a school assignment in eighth grade. I didn't do research for this and I've watched the movie exactly one time, so this is just for fun.

It was a Sunday, Sunday the 22nd of November, nearing the end of the train wreck of a year that is 2020. I woke up on an air mattress around seven am, my head aching, my throat itching with pyrosis and light nausea, it was still dark outside behind the closed blinds in front of the windows, when I slowly realised where I was, one of my best girlfriends sleeping next to me in her bed. I had crashed at her place after a warm, fuzzy evening of mulled wine, tacky Christmas movies I would never watch alone (Christmas Chronicles and Holiday Calendar, which I quite honestly didn't enjoy at all, but the company made it fun anyway), doing our nails, wearing the fun kind of face masks for a change and smoking too many cigarettes, as the soft pain in my head informed me right now. She woke up an hour later and the morning went by with coffee and reheated pizza for breakfast, when we decided to watch another movie and I realised that it was THE Sunday I'd been waiting for through Zoom interviews and Dolly Parton twitter memes and the infamous wig gate that will be briefly discussed in the following, and so we clicked on the small icon in the Netflix menu that said "Christmas On The Square".

And oh boy, was it a ride.

To start off, I should mention that I have a hard time watching most modern day American Christmas movies, as I noticed quite vividly again when I watched the two aforementioned Netflix productions last night. The character development is always foreseeable to say the least, the plot lines are plain clichés hunting each other like they're the kids in The Hunger Games, and the writing is generally so bad that you can join the actors in reciting the entire scripts on your first watch. I watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas once a year while I'm gift wrapping and pause every fifteen minutes to shamelessly stare at forties Christine Baranski (I think we should all turn away from the birth of Jesus and instead count our years based on Christine Baranski's date of birth) in flamboyant nightgowns and short Christmas themed dresses, looking so fabulous that every interpreter of Santa Baby ever could only dream of it, I watch Love Actually at least five times a year to lust over Hugh Grant, cry with Emma Thompson and miss Alan Rickman, I enjoy Bridget Jones, which I would definitely consider a Christmas movie, and that's it. That's my yearly Christmas time entertainment routine and I can barely tolerate anything beyond, because I'm still traumatised from the time when I was around five years old and on a holiday family visit where had to sit through National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, the dumbest movie I have ever seen (my apologies if you like it but also, who hurt you?), with my cousins. I hated it. I hated every minute of it. And it scarred me for life.

But this was a Christine Baranski movie, I knew she was going to play the lead and so I was pretty much as excited about this as I could. And the fact that Dolly Parton wrote the whole thing didn't hurt either. As I said earlier to my friend I was watching it with, I have the pop cultural taste of a fifty year old gay man, a quality I am most proud of, and this simply ticked off all my boxes.

I expected something similar to a Mamma Mia experience that wouldn't cause me to crave packing my bags, give Covid the finger and run off to Greece. Light-hearted entertainment, easy to stomach, uplifting music and so little plot that the simplicity feels like a creative choice. That's what my pained, hungover brain knew it could cope with and that's not what I got.

The movie started and I was immediately in the zone. I saw Christine Baranski's name in the front credits (an experience that never fails to make me scream "Yass Queen" at the screen, regardless of where I am and who I'm with, as if I'm the sobering result that pops out of the package when you order Jonathan Van Ness on Wish), the setting was wonderfully corny (I grew up watching Gilmore Girls once a week, so give me warm fairy lights and a gazebo and I'm perfectly happy) and as my friend wondered whether Dolly Parton, in her exaggerated homeless attire that didn't make her look shabby at all, was green-screened into the setting because she stood out so much (which she was because the background dancers were dancing in slow motion, but to be fair, we were probably still a little too drunk to notice that from the start) and I told her I thought that it was just the natural glow someone who's Dolly Parton simply carries with them everywhere they go, I was happy. This was the movie I was prepared for. A movie in which the most problematic thing would be stereotypical characters and the wig they hid Christine's real, flawlessly handmade by God herself hair under.

And then, around five minutes in, Christine Baranski's childhood love interest was revealed as she pressed her perfect pointy nose against the window of his shop and sang about her unrequited love.

And suddenly, things started taking turns at a pace I was still way too sleep-deprived for.

Suddenly, in the middle of my general amazement at seeing Christine Baranski do literally anything and laughing loud at her impeccable comedic delivery, there were unresolved daddy issues, hanging prominently at the wall in her marvellously designed house (she literally says "Daddy" at one point and I couldn't help but think that only someone with her vocal skills could keep from making it sound cringe-worthily kinky). One moment, I was clutching my chest above my heart while she was bonding with little bartender Violet and munching on pretzels while downing some whiskey in that elegant way only Christine Baranski can bond with ten year olds who had it rough, eat pretzels and down whiskey, and the next she felt responsible for said girl's mother's death (which she kinda was too, but I'm not the boss of her). I was still busy making fun of how the very annoyingly, but when you're snacking on pizza with extra cheese at nine in the morning also highly funny, slow talking pastor's name was Christian, and suddenly there was a cancer scare.

It was a lot, a hasty sprint from major issue to major issue with a hint of comedic relief every now and then, and it didn't get any less until the very, rather poorly resolved, end.

The entire, constant up and down was followed by the movie's peak of suspense, the near death of precious Violet, something I couldn't even get too invested in because I was still so busy worrying about Christine's MRT results (I was truly fucking worried), not to mention that I hadn't even started to really process the sudden revelation of the love child and how it had affected her character's actions until this point. Was her constant tendency of pushing people away, as we've seen most clearly with her angel in training assistant who's name I cannot recall right now, the result of her broken trust in her father who practically ripped her son away from her after she had just given birth to him? Was it a result of her never getting the closure she needed with plaid flannel wearing Carl she was clearly still in love with? Maybe both? And what of the many issues was it that made her so incredibly shaken up when Violet blamed herself for her mother's death? Was it 'just' due to the fact that the closed pharmacy was on her, or was there more to it? Was it because she had grown up without a mother herself? Or did I miss a major piece of information because I was momentarily distracted, dumbfoundedly staring at Christine's very blue eyes? No time to ponder on that, little Silverinia, because here comes unconscious Violet in an ambulance, WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO!

I'm not going to go in depth about what plot lines I thought were especially carelessly handled and why, real standouts were the sudden forgiveness towards her father who had still acted like a shitty asshole even though he might have had his reasons, because giving the baby up for adoption just wasn't his choice to make, and the fact that I kind of didn't buy how quickly Regina managed to forgive herself, especially for Violet's mother's passing, considering how deeply her tall, slim, dare I say angelic and entrancing figure was buried beneath the weight of all her issues. It felt rushed and incomplete, but that's as detailed as it gets because my major point is something else.

I think this movie made the great mistake of trying to be more than your average, flat, happy ending Christmas movie. I think no one involved thought it was possible to make it a big hit if the only real plot would've been great Dolly Parton music, fun ensemble dance choreographies, Christine Baranski's outstanding acting skills, fun settings and costumes and a redemption arch with as little plot as it could possibly take to make Christine likable to those who aren't already lost forever in the rabbit hole of being obsessed with her (poor fuckers, can't relate). They didn't notice that with the legends that were involved, they could've easily gone the Mamma Mia way. And I think that's why they tried to include heavier plot lines than most creators would've chosen, experiencing loss at an early age, struggling to find closure, dealing with sickness, teenage pregnancy, parents forcing their choices on their children when they affect their childrens' lives first, adoption, and the fear of losing your kid.

It was a lot and I don't want to say that it didn't work because my friend was crying, like, pretty hard and I questioned my entire existence all through the movie in not the worst way, and I did enjoy it a lot while watching. The "grief is love with nowhere to go" line was a real standout, for example, where the attempt of complexity DID work. It positively gave me fleabag season two, "I don't know what to do with it now, with all the love I have for her." - "I'll take it. It sounds lovely. You have to give it to me." feels, and that's about the biggest praise I can come up with. BUT (and this is written in capital letters because it's the big but) I'm also totally convinced that I wouldn't have enjoyed it if they hadn't cast Christine Baranski for the lead role. In my humble opinion, the hasty, not really at all resolved plot of this movie only worked because Christine Baranski is just a fantastic actress. She quirks a mocking eyebrow and you laugh. She parts her perfectly painted red lips and you immediately hang on them because you don't want to miss a single breath she, a literal goddess, graces us mere peasants of people with. She smiles and you're happy. She laughs and even while she's still laughing, you can't wait to hear her do it again. Her eyes fill with tears and you feel goosebumps on your arms, her voice slightly trembles, a breath hitches in her throat and you feel your heart shattering to pieces. As Chuck Lorre once said, this woman could read you the phone book and you would end up laughing tears because she just gets the job done. She knows what she's doing, she's an absolute pro in her game, and it doesn't matter, not even a little bit, what she's working with, because the work she eventually delivers with it is always at a minimum of 200%. I forced my friend to watch this movie with me because I adore this woman, and I felt for this movie because I felt for her. It wasn't the plot that sadly brutally overestimated itself, it wasn't the songs that I obviously enjoyed, nor the comedic elements that truly made me laugh a lot, it was all her. I came for Baranski, and I stayed for Baranski. This woman can do anything. She can even look graceful in a terrible wig job.

(side note / unpopular opinion: I actually didn't think the wig was all too bad. It wasn't good, actually far from good, but for me, nothing can match the awful wig game of Mamma Mia 2. I loathed that wig, I absolutely cannot stand it. So this didn't feel all that terrible. It definitely wasn't the most problematic part about the movie.)

I enjoyed watching this. It was a nice distraction from all the bullshit in the world. Watching it today was the first thing this year that actually brought me something close to excitement about the holiday season, even though everything will be very different and probably not quite as jolly this year. But it just gave me good vibes and as someone who did not watch this as a film reviewer, that's the biggest part of what leads me to enjoy a movie.

Will I watch this again? For sure. Will I enjoy it when I'm not hungover, having freshly done nails and munching delicious pizza for breakfast? Probably not as much, but it'll still have Christine Baranski in it. Would I recommend watching this? If you share my obsession with Queen B, one hundo. If you don't, probably not.

[btssunnyboy]

And They Were Roommates - Jeon Jungkook

Just a few little blurbs about being roommates!

Word Count- 1,870

Warning- honesty just profanity and maybe a few awkward moments.

My request are open darlings!

Masterlist

———————————————————————

MY SHOWERS BROKEN, SO MOVE OVER

The thought of having that soothing, warm water cascade down your body was huge motivation to get out of bed. Even though the soft blankets smothered you in the same feeling, you needed to wash away the previous day’s pain. After having discarded the matching pajamas set, you wrapped the fluffy towel around your body. In a hurried pace you whipped open the bathroom door.

“Oh no!” You protested while giving a harsh shove to Jungkook’s chest. This was you bathroom, what the hell was he doing here! “Get out!”

Jungkook held back at laugh at your desperate form. His eyes traveled up and down your body and watched with even more amusement when you tried to cover up. Instead of leaving the room like a decent human being, Jungkook began reaching into the shower and letting the steam fill the room. When he turned his body back towards you, he bunny like smile was shinning even brighter. “I think I’ll stay. Besides my hot water isn’t working.”

“Oh my fucking god, that’s the fourth time in two weeks!” You whined and ran a hand through your hair. An over exaggerated huff passed though your lips while you continued to glare at the boy.

A suggestive smirk overtook his features when his eyes shifted between you and the scolding hot water. “You know, you could always join me. I mean we’d be saving water.”

You felt your eyes widen in disbelief, and you slowly backed out of the room. The thought of being that close in proximity to him made your body shutter. Begrundly , slamming the door shut you turned around and shouted though it, “Don’t use up all the hot water you Jackass.”

“My offer still stands princess, you know I could always use some help to wash my back!” He suggestively spoke.

“Jungkook, I’m going to physically heave, shut the hell up!”

—

ALARMCLOCK MADNESS

It was like clockwork, both figuratively and literally, when it came to Jungkooks six am routine. The blaring sounds reverberating through the whole apartment. Even after a year of living together you’ve still never grown used to. The temptation to smother him with the covers was becoming very tempted, as you stalked towards his room.

“Who doesn’t have pillows?” You asked yourself while staring at him. You shook your head in amusement while turning off that stupid alarm clock.

His mouth lightly twitched when you began to shake him awake. Talking quietly about him having to get up and do is supposedly mandatory workout. All he did was groan while leaning into your soft touch, and mumble incoherent words. Bringing your ears a bit closer to understand his jumble more was a good idea in hindsight. A shocked squeal left your mouth the mouth his muscular arms latched around your waist and pulled your body towards him.

“You do this all the time,” You smiled wrapping your around his neck. You playfully rolled your eyes when he dug his face deeper into your shoulder and let out a soft sigh while you were playing with his hair. “Sleepyhead, it’s time to get up.”

“Please, just five more minutes.” Jungkook spoke his hands rubbing up and down your back. Jungkook held you up up and placed his arm under your head to act like a pillow. Before settling back down he sat up and pulled the heavy duvet over the both of you. He would never admit it to, but he absolutely treasured these moments.

You’d never admit it either, but in all honesty you’d deal with the alarm clock madness everyday if it meant he’d always hold you this close.

“I’m beginning to think you’re letting this thing wake me up on purpose.”

“Think whatever you want, princess, but we both know I never get up on time anyway.”

—

WHY DID WE HAVE TO GET THE SHITTY NEIGHBOR

3 weeks. 3 damn weeks both Jungkook and you have complained about those horrendous neighbors. The amount of caffeine you’ve had to ingest definitely exceeded the healthy amount, but if you wanted to get to work then that’s what you had to do.

“Just because he’s the landlords son that shouldn’t mean he gets to do whatever he wants!” You exclaimed while covering your ears to block out the obnoxious music. “Besides who has parties this late on a Thursday?”

“I’m still pissed that fucker let some of his friends get so messed up and vomit all over my car!” Jungkook fumed as he bounced his leg. The anger was practically exuding from his body as he spoke. His eyes held fury in them the longer the music blared. “I’m gonna beat the shit of them!”

You bolted upwards the moment he left his spot on the couch. It took your entire body weight to even make him stop for a second. “Jungkook we’ll get eveicted, we know from the last time we tried to handle the situation.”

“Y/n, I can see the dark bags underneath your eyes and they aren’t getting any better. These stupid parties are interrupting something you desperately need.” Jungkook tried to reason with you. He held your face in his hands and gently glided his fingers over your cheeks. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Jungkook, we both need sleep, but going over there and beating him to a pulp isn’t gonna solve anything. We might as well just suck it up.” You grumbled out at the thought of having to deal with this even more. You gave a tight lipped smile and grabbed his hand leading him away from the door.

“My room is a lot further away from the door, do you wanna sleep with me? Just for a little while?” He suggested while motioning towards the far back room.

“If it lets me get some rest for the first time in a while, sign me up.”

“Can I borrow some pillows then?”

—

YOU’RE WAY TOO DRUNK

The amount of peaceful sleep you were getting was starting to get a bit suspicious. Considering it was Saturday night, for once the idiotic neighbor wasn’t having a party at all. You were basking in the glory of this much deserved sleep.

“Jesus Christ.” You heaved out the moment a heavy body slammed into your door. Sitting straight up in your bed you stared at the door with drooping eyes. The golden doorknob was shaking violently every few seconds. Now, you would’ve been worried, but the fact that Jungkook likes to have more them one bottle of wine on Saturday stuff like this was a usual occurrence.

“Well hi, there!” Jungkook spoke, a small amount of enthusiasm sprinkled within it. Every step he took his body swayed from left to right. The amount of times he’s almost knocked over your lamp is more then both hands can count.

“Come here, you big baby.” You yawned and pulled his body down on the soft bed. You got down and began to pull of his boots.

“Wow, h-hey now, listen you seem like a nice girl, but I can’t do that!” Jungkook slurred and began to lightly shoo your hands away. “I’ll be betraying, y/n!”

You wee honesty too tired to try and ask the meaning behind him apparently betraying you. You hastily removed the left boot and started on the laces of the right one.

“You should meet her, I swear she’s absolutely so beautiful and amazing and I wish she was mine!” He giggled while grabbing your face and turning it towards him. “Woah, oh my gosh! You two could be twins!”

Those words kept echoing through your head, beautiful, amazing and I wish she was mine. Shaking the thoughts from your head, it was too late to be deal with this. You lightly pushed his shoulders back on the bed and watched as he went out like a like.

“ I think you’re pretty amazing too, Jungkook.”

—

WASH THE DAMN DISHES

The patience you had was astonishing, especially since you lived with him. Although, just because you have a lot of it doesn’t mean it’s long lasting. You gripped the end of the sink with a scowl plastered across your face. These dishes have been sitting in this sink for a total of five days. You would have done them, but you’ve had family matters to attend to and couldn’t be home.

“Oh my god it’s not that big of a deal!” Jungkook argued the moment he saw your pissed expression.

The tongue pressed against your cheek was a major indication of how pissed you were. “That sink fucking stinks.”

“So then wash them!”

Breathing in a slow breath you calmly stated, “I’m gonna throw fucking hands! If those aren’t done by the time I get back I will deadass evict you myself.”

Just because you liked the boy doesn’t mean you were gonna overlook his habit of leaving the sink so full. Well maybe that was a small lie. You’ve overlooked many things including things like this.

—

GROCERIES

You huffed while looking in the freezer for something to eat. You had originally thought you all were only low on water, nope. Going further into inspection you were practically low on everything. It was a miracle you two were still alive.

“Please!” You smiled as you slid beside Jungkook on the cough. A hopefully gleam was shining in your eyes as you batted your eyelashes at him. “I’ll shut up about the dishes incident!”

Jungkook rasied his eyes in suspicion, wondering if you were being true or not. “Promise?” He held out his pink and immediately your painted nail was looped around his.

Upon arriving at the grocery store you made a b-line for the chips as fast as you could. With Jungkook trailing hot on your tail. Happily tossing chips and cakes into the baskets as you walked deeper into the aisle. Stopping in your tracks as you contemplated on which ones to grab.

“Ew those pockys are nasty.” Jungkook laughed as he walked up behind you. He smiled slightly when he wrapped his arm around your waist and felt you lean in just slightly.

“What? I like the strawberry kind!” You protested as you held up the chocolate and strawberry side by side.

“Well, I like chocolate.” Jungkook shrugged as he yanked the box from your grasp and more then a few off of the shelf. He gave a mock nod and started off on his own path.

You couldn’t help the small smirk that came to your face as you watched him. You were finally coming to realization that you may have a small crush on the pocky obsessed boy. Maybe you should have to him up on the offer to join him in the shower.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook was feeling those butterflies in his stomach as well. A light blush dusted his face the moment you came up behind him and placed a small kiss onto his cheek. “What was that for?” He asked, but before you could even answer he swiftly caught your lips. A sweet kiss it was.

“Now that we’re on this kissing stage, maybe we can finally play the pocky game I’ve always suggested!”

[shortythescreen]

come over

Warning(s): NSFT/18+, friends with benefits, sex with feelings lol. 

Relationship(s): Octane/Female Reader.  

Author’s Notes: this was my first post on ao3 and i’m trying to actually start using this blog so. here’s the post, lmao! my spanish sucks but i understand everything, hence the ref to a meme in spanish. :) 

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3.

come over?

That’s what lights up your phone screen at damn near three in the morning. You roll over, squinting at the bright screen as you grab it from your bedside table. It’s one of the lamest texts you’ve ever gotten. It’s barely a step up from the even more basic ‘u up?’ and you’re half tempted to leave him on read. Octavio can do better than that.

Yet, you scroll through your compilation of gifs and send him one of a woman rolling her eyes. Sure, it’s disdainful but he now knows that you are, in fact, awake.

About three months ago, you were offered a job by Apex, the corporation running the well renowned Apex Games. The offered pay was astronomical in comparison to what you made at your humble little gig as a thorn in a journalist’s side. Room and lodging would be included in the miniature city built just for Champions and the people who made the games happen.

All you had to do was do what you do best. Take pictures.

Every advertisement, webpage, and piece of merchandise is covered with your pictures of the Legends. Those that you take in the studio given to you and those that you take off the clock. Every picture on your camera belongs to Apex, even with your signature scratched at the bottom of all of them.

Because of this, it had taken a select few Legends time to warm up to you. Others, not so much.

Octavio, better known as Octane, might as well have sat in your lap when you walked in with a camera hanging around your neck.

Though you’re a lot quieter than ‘The Adrenaline Junkie’, you have about as much impulse control as he does. So one night when he’d visited you in your studio a little past business hours, brandishing a bottle of Hennessey Black the size of your head, one thing lead to another and, well.

The events of that night lead to you getting texts from Octavio at damn near three in the fucking morning asking you to come over.

i have a box of wings and a bottle of Smirnoff with ur name on it.

You bite the tip of your tongue. The offer’s tempting.

and other things, if you can keep up. ;)

That, even more so.

Against your better judgment, you text him back with words instead of a gif. You’ll be over in ten minutes.  If he drinks all the liquor before you get there, you’re leaving. You imagine him cackling at his screen because if you know him at all, and you do, he’s probably polished off at least a quarter of the bottle on his own.

Octavio’s apartment is a five minute walk from yours but you gave yourself an extra five to brush your teeth and find your shoes. The penthouse suites offered to all the Legends is right across the street from your simple one bedroom.

When you first moved in, you thought maybe Apex Corp wanted you to take paparazzi sort of shots of their competitors. They’ve never asked you to and you haven’t bothered to try, so you guess they just gave you what was available.

Whatever. You don’t mind living in earshot of some of the deadliest people in the Outlands. Especially now that you’re fucking one of them.

God, you never thought you’d be in this position. Sure, you’re not fucking blind, most of the Legends are attractive. Bangalore has a smirk that drops panties and a voice that’s a little more gravelly than the average woman. Wraith’s got the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, powers or otherwise, and her skin is flawless. Gibraltar could probably defeat half of his opponents by throwing them.

Even those that you can’t see the faces of have appeal – Bloodhound’s shroud of mystery has gained them quite the following online and what Octavio doesn’t show of his face is made up for by his stupid little crop top.

You just… Didn’t anticipate any of them finding you attractive too. Least of all the speedster with a penchant for picking up bad habits. Like fucking the photographer. You run your hand down your face as you exit your house, locking it behind you before jogging across the street to the penthouse suites.

Even if you had toyed with the possibility of warming one of their beds, you certainly didn’t think you’d wind up in Octavio’s. Maybe Elliot, who’s got a reputation for getting around, or Ajay, who’s could crush you with her thighs. Octavio, whose accent and stupid selfies had caught the attention of many Apex fans, was the last legend you expected to end up making your heart do the jitterbug-

It’s not, you’re not, you vehemently remind yourself as you enter the elevator of the Legends’ suites. Absolutely not. No way. You walk down the hallway to Octavio’s door, reminding yourself over and over again you’re most certainly not catching feelings and whatever dance your heart is doing has something to do with the lack of sleep.

Even though that makes no sense, it’s what you tell yourself, because there’s no fucking way you’re into Octavio like that. Not into someone you’re just hooking up with. Not into someone who’s only interested in hooking up.

You knock once on his door and you barely have a chance to step back before Octavio’s tearing it open. His mask is gone and even though you’ve seen his face a million times by now, you still take a moment to breathe him in. He’s got the prettiest green eyes you’ve ever seen, glassy with alcohol, and you notice that he’s in need of a shave, his cheeks tinted dark by pinpricks of facial hair.

“It’s three am,” you tell him.

“Yet here you are, amiga,” he smirks.

“For the booze,” you reply and he snickers, shoving out a plastic cup you hadn’t noticed he was holding. The stench of Smirnoff envelops you and you sigh, snatching it away and shouldering your way into his apartment.

“What are you doing up, anyway?” You ask, flopping on the couch and taking a large enough gulp of your cup to make your nose burn. You squeeze your eyes briefly closed, letting out a little ‘ahh’ as Octavio’s weight sinks the opposite side of the couch.

“Couldn’t stop watching The Flash. But Barry got kinda boring, so I texted you,” he says and you snort, opening one eye to glance at him. You hadn’t even noticed the title glaring at you from the flat screen only a few feet away, the only light in the apartment aside from the stove.

God, he’s so unfairly pretty. He’s resting his tousled head of green hair, the same green as his eyes, in his hand, propped up on the back of the couch. His PLUS ULTRA tattoo peeks out from the three quarter sleeved shirt he’s wearing and you go for your drink, hoping you can excuse the warmth in your chest as Smirnoff.

“Of course you were. You’re so fuckin’ basic.”

“I’m on brand.”

“You’re at home. Alone.”

“Not anymore.”

You snort, finally beginning to feel that warmth in your chest drip down into your stomach. The easy, fuzziness that comes with being here, with drinking and banter and the promise of something so much sweeter.

“Well, thanks for inviting me,” you say, “now where are those wings?”

As promised, Octavio brings you a takeout box with about thirty wings. With liquor brewing in your stomach, you probably could demolish them, but you’re barely buzzed and still willing to be polite.

It’s the wee hours of the morning, so you’re grateful that each of the Legends have soundproof walls. You and Octavio put on old telenovelas, even though your Spanish is slim to none, and he makes you laugh by describing the scenes to you.

“Oho man, she’s such a bitch. The mother basically just told the son’s lover acompáñame a ver esta triste historia.”

“I don’t speak Spanish, Oc,” you remind him around a mouthful of a wing coated in ranch.

“Remember how the girl’s parents died when she was six?” He asks and you nod your head, vaguely remembering the shitty graphics acting as flashbacks. “The son’s mother heard that and might as well have said ‘that’s cute’.”

You were right to assume Octavio had already had a hefty serving of alcohol before he’d texted you, as he brings out the bottle when your glass gets low, a little less than half of it gone. He’s got a higher alcohol tolerance than you and it’s obvious the more you two delve into the Smirnoff.

He smirks at you when you whine about the wings getting low, polishing off what must be your twelfth. You’ve officially had enough alcohol to stop being polite and Octavio loops an arm around your shoulder. When had he gotten so close to you on the couch?

“There, there,” he murmurs into your hair, “there will be wings tomorrow, mami.”

“But I want them now,” you complain, only to completely forget your train of thought as you bury your nose in the collar of Octavio’s shirt. “Fuck, you smell good. Do you always smell this good?”

“I smell like liquor,” he snickers, kissing the top of your head and you shudder as he slides his fingers through the small hairs at the base of your neck.

“And soap. What soap do you use? I bet you use Old Spice. Old Spice is so basic but it smells so fucking good,” you ramble, tilting your head just enough so that your lips brush against his collarbone.

“Gracias,” he hums, tilting his head back a smidge. You take this as an invitation and begin placing careful, open mouthed kisses up the length of his neck.

Octavio sighs through his nose, arm around your shoulders sliding down your side to pull you half into his lap. Your teeth scrape his pulse and his grip on you tightens.

“You didn’t say yes or no,” you absently mumble as he grabs a handful of your ass. He squeezes before you pull back just enough to meet those pretty green eyes of his, dark with want.

“Yeah, it’s Old Spice,” he says, then leans in to devour your mouth with his.

Octavio kisses like he moves. Quick, eager, his tongue pushes into your mouth and makes you groan. You haphazardly drape one leg over his, twisting so your chest is flush against his. He bites your lower lip and you whimper, half grinding against his prosthetic legs, cool against your heat.

His free hand sneaks down to grab your other ass cheek, pulling you up to straddle him. His lips leave yours with a pop and he bites his lower lip as you shudder against his dick jumping under your hips.

“We haven’t even started yet,” you say, allowing him to slip his hands beneath your shirt, gripping your breasts and rolling the peaks under his thumbs. You sigh, continuing, “how are you so hard?”

“How are you so sexy?” He snarks, releasing your tits in favor of grabbing the hem of your top. He pulls it off eagerly, eyes hot.  

“You too,” you half beg and he obliges, tugging that snug fitting shirt over his head. You hum, hot with liquor, and with lust, and with the look he’s burning into your chest. He leans back into the couch, drinking in your disheveled state before reaching up to cruelly pinch your nipples.

You gasp, trying to lean into the sensation and alleviate the pain. Octavio only pulls harder, biting his lower lip when you’re almost chest to chest.

“Asshole,” you hiss and he grins, giving you a flash of his tongue piercing.

“You like it,” he says as you relent, going still in his lap. Octavio finally releases his almost too tight grip on one nipple in favor of looping an arm around your waist. He’s torturous to the other, squeezing, rolling, tugging. As a reward for the way you buckled, he slurps the free one into his mouth. You moan, his mouth all wet warmth and cool metal. His thumb flickers teasingly across your other pebbled nipple and you arch your back.

“Oc, please,” you pant and he pulls off of you with a pop, cupping the tit he still has a handle on to flick his tongue across it.

“Por favor? Por favor que?” He half laughs only to break off in a needy groan when you grind against him. “Fuck fuck fuck, okay, stand up for a sec.”

You roll yourself along his dick for a moment longer, relishing in the way his hips instinctually jerk against yours. He squirms beneath you, opting to tightly grab your hips.

“Shit, mami,” Octavio pants, sharply thrusting up before trying to push you off. “C’mon, c’mon, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You finally climb off him and he follows you forward, sharply pulling down your sweats. A long, sticky trail connects you briefly to them and he outright groans at how filthy that is.

“You’re so wet,” he all but whines, fascinatedly rubbing a finger between your lips. Your breath hitches as he pointedly drags his knuckle across your clit, teasing you with the not quite enough touch.

“Shorts off,” you growl, and he hurriedly obeys. His cock springs free as his shorts hit the carpet and your mouth waters. The tip is swollen and pink, leaking with excitement. You’re half tempted to get on your knees, swipe the pre up with your tongue and put him at your mercy.

“Oh, mami, yes, you can do that for me later,” he babbles, making you realize you’d said that aloud. You try to climb back into his lap, only to have him grab you by the shoulders. You yelp as he tosses you onto your back on the opposite side of the couch, maneuvering himself between your thighs.

You two have been doing this long enough to have done away with condoms and you’re so fucking grateful for that as he pushes himself between your lips. Your slick helps him along as he glides the tip against your aching, swollen clit.

“Oc,” you impatiently murmur and he smirks. Octavio is a bastard at the worst times and not even the bedroom is exempt, because he grabs his shaft and taps the leaking tip of his cock against your clit.

“How bad do you want it, hm?” He asks and if you weren’t so overwhelmed, you’d roll your eyes. You settle for propping yourself up on your elbows and thrusting your hips up. His cock catches on your hole and his breath hitches in his throat.

“That bad, huh?” Octavio breathlessly whispers and you glare at him through the fog of your lust.

“Aren’t you supposed to be quick?”

“You want it to be over? Aw, okay, guess I’ll-“

Before he can pull away, you wrap your legs around his waist and yank him against you. Octavio slips, caught off guard, and he catches himself on the arm of the couch, letting out a strangled groan as the tip of his dick breeches your swollen cunt.

“Fuck,” he grits out, suddenly unconcerned with teasing. He drives himself the rest of the way inside and you sigh, relieved to be so wonderfully full.

“I’m trying,” you gleefully counter and he sharply thrusts into you with a laugh that’s half moan.

You reach around, clawing at his lower back as he fucks into you. His elbow lands on the space next to your neck and you find his hand cupping the crown of your head, simply resting there as he fucks you like he’s trying to win a race.

Octavio moans and curses and whines just as much as you do, his green eyes squeezed shut. You rake your nails up the length of his spine and he groans, giving you an especially brutal thrust. Your mouth falls open and he takes the opportunity to sloppily kiss you, tongue pushing past your lips to twist with yours and he doesn’t taste so much like liquor anymore.

You sob into the kiss as he angles his hips down a little, hitting right there. He gets the picture quickly and he aims just so, abusing that place that makes you see stars. His hips snap into yours and you grab his shoulders for purchase. It’s too much. It’s not enough.

It’s him, pulling away from your kiss to watch you with amazed green eyes. It’s him, grabbing your hips and yanking you onto his dick. It’s him, passing a thumb over your clit, making your eyes roll back. It’s him, hissing your name as his hips begin to stutter and shake. It’s him.

“C’mon, mami, c’mon, I won’t last,” he gasps, fondling your clit desperately and your jaw drops at the sensation. “C’mon, baby, need it, need to feel that tight pussy squeeze my dick, you can do it, do it for me, please, baby, please-“

You say his name as your orgasm hits you, shaking legs tightening so harshly around his waist you can feel every tremor of his hips. He fucks you through it, relentlessly rubbing your clit and you whimper, reaching down to try and shove his hand away. It doesn’t seem to stop him and finally with two, three more thrusts, he’s coming.

Octavio buries his face in your neck, saying something so low and garbled that you barely pick up that it was in Spanish. You don’t care to ask what he said just yet, too busy catching your breath as you clutch his back.

“Shit…” He breathes, turning his head to rest his nose against your still racing pulse. Now, though, it’s not just with need, but you don’t tell him that.

“How’s that for keeping up?” You ask and he snickers, slowly pulling out of you. Octavio reaches down, grabbing his shorts and tucking them beneath your hips to catch the spunk dripping out of you.

“I’ll go get a wash cloth,” he says as you paw at the coffee table for the TV remote. You groan at the time it shows you.

“It’s almost seven, you ass! I have to be to work in two hours!”

“Guess I kept you up all night. At least you weren’t bored.”

“I hate you,” you groan, scrubbing your hands over your eyes. Octavio snickers, making his way towards the bathroom.

“Oh, hey, wait,” you say, propping your head up. He stops short, meeting your gaze. “What did you say? I was kinda preoccupied and didn’t hear.”

“Kinda? You wound me,” Octavio says, placing a hand over his heart. You unceremoniously flip him off. “You think I remember what I said while I was nutting, chica?!”

Octavio grins roguishly. You roll your eyes, throwing one of the couch cushions at him. It doesn’t get anywhere close to hitting him and Octavio snickers, bending down to toss it back onto the couch. “Who knows?”

Octavio turns back to the bathroom and his playful expression slackens. His brow scrunches up as he flicks the light on, closing the restroom door behind him and staring disbelievingly into the mirror.

Te amo, he’d gasped into your neck when he was overwhelmed with the smell of you, the feeling of you, the taste of you.

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 501

We’re back again for another season of men never having to demonstrate any personal growth on screen because the writers don’t feel like that’s important to show and instead force the audience to just forget everything that previously happened because look! The characters, who aren’t real and are just what we write them to be, are all cool now so why aren’t you? #BadFans

As a standalone episode/series premiere of a new show, this episode was really good! I enjoyed it a lot, with some obvious exceptions. As the season five premiere of a show with a long history? What the actual fuck, why do you keep doing this, writers?

In season one, Jamie beats Claire, never actually apologizes for it, and we’re expected to be like oh lol it’s cool now. No worries.

In season two, Jamie takes his pants off with some prostitutes while his pregnant wife is at home, blames it on his “mission,” and we’re expected to be like oh lol it’s cool now. No worries.

In season three, Jamie is an asshole and a half to Claire when she gives up literally everything (including their daughter) to come find him and knowingly marries the woman who tried to have Claire killed because of one dance with random children at a holiday party, and we’re expected to be like oh lol it’s cool now. No worries.

In season four, Roger is a rancid garbage heap to Bree all season and is only begrudgingly down to stay with her as if *he’s* the one who’s been wronged by her, and Jamie literally sends a guy into what he thinks is like certain death/slavery without getting any real information, and we’re expected to be like oh lol it’s cool now. No worries.

So watching this premiere, I was not at all shocked that there was a convenient time jump where everything was so handily worked out off screen and we’re all super cool now, and Jamie thinking Roger isn’t good enough for Bree is played for a joke instead of being THE ABSOLUTE TRUTH. #BreeDeservesBetter

Anywho, onward under the cut because I’m back on my drunken bullshit.

Ooo, a rape warning before the episode, starting off very on brand for you I see, show.

Fuck them very much, again, for including that very unnecessary story line in the first place.

I miss Scotland, y’all. Also, young Murtz can get ittt.

So can old Murtz.

#TeamMurtz

This bit though with wee Jamie made me feel feelings. Jamie and Murtagh’s relationship is literally one of my favorite parts of this whole damn show and saving Murtagh was the best adaptive choice these fuckwads made.

Unpopular opinion alert, but I actually really like the new credits music. I will always like season one’s the best, but this one is up there.

Also, am I a giant weirdo for being happy that even though they change stuff in the credits all the time, they keep in the shot of Claire’s legs running from the pilot? Idk why, but I’m like sentimentally attached to that shot.

Also, that is a fucking microscope I see in the credits, are we gettING SCIENCE!JIZZ?!??!?!?!

SCIENCE!JIZZ! SCIENCE!JIZZ! SCIENCE!JIZZ!

“Careful, or ye’ll lose yer head.” And we’d all be definitely super sad if that happened. Yep, can’t have that. #TeamCutthroatRazor

Jamie threateningly shaving and insulting Roger is the fandom minus the stans who for some inconceivable reason still like that fucker.

Seriously, fuck Roger. Jamie is apparently the only one who hasn’t gotten amnesia about how terrible he is. I guess it’s because Jamie has been really fucking terrible many times and like recognizes like.

I fucking love that Murtz made Bree’s ring. Makes it more meaningful than the random trinket Roger picks up at the Gathering Without End in the book. Like Claire’s Lallybroch key ring was more meaningful than the book!ring. Fuck the show for ditching the Lallybroch key ring because tHe BoOk RiNg Is WhAt FaNs LiKe. No. Stop. Bad choice.

The aerial shot going over the big house makes me hopeful that this season won’t be as fucking claustrophobic as last year. Because seriously, we can all tell you’re still in Scotland. Doing a whole season in basically closeups doesn’t make it seem any more North Carolina-y.

CLAIRE MAKING BREE’S DRESS AND GETTING TO BE THERE FOR HER DAUGHTER’S WEDDING WHEN SHE DIDN’T THINK SHE’D BE ABLE TO GIVES ME ALL THE FEELINGS! CLAIRE DESERVES ALL THE GOOD THINGS! I JUST LOVE CLAIRE A LOT OK! SORRY NOT AT ALL EVER FUCKING SORRY! #BeauchampBrigade5Eva

Bree’s dress is fucking gorgeous. I lowkey like it better than Claire’s.

Da!Jamie on his something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue quest is fucking adorable. He also never thought he’d get to see this one of his kids’ wedding so yay for him too.

“And we’re giving her away to a man who loves her.” “Oh.” “What? You doubt his love?” “Um, I’m sorry, did you SEE all last season?! Did everyone else get amnesia?!”

Also, bullshit about Roger being terrible aside, this right here, with Jamie and Claire actually talking to each other in an adorable and snuggly way. Like being all close and cuddly and shit. THIS IS MY SHIT. When we all bitch about wanting more Jamie and Claire couple stuff and the writers are all like “but the sex doesn’t advance the story” it’s like no you fuckwits, we don’t always mean sex! Sometimes we mean sex, because sex is important in their relationship (and sex does not necessarily equal nudity), but most of the time we mean SHOW US THAT THESE PEOPLE LOVE EACH OTHER WITH THE SMALL CUTE STUFF LIKE THIS! I’m *rull* curious to see how much more of stuff like this we get this season now that Balfe and Heughan are producers. Balfe especially, considering how dirty they did Claire last season...

DA!JAMIE AND ANOTHER OF HIS KIDDOS! Da!Jamie being sappy and sentimental at his kids’ weddings is 100% my jam.

HIS FACE WHEN BREE SAYS JE SUIS PREST MAKES ME FEEL ALL THE FEELINGSSS.

MOM AND DAD ARE AT THEIR LIL GIRL’S WEDDING AND MY SKIN IS CLEAR AND MY CROPS ARE THRIVING. Except that one weed over there in the groom’s place that just won’t go away.

I am so fucking glad they did away with the Gathering Without End. I swear to fuck 17% of a book that’s just like camping and periods and breast milk is aggressively not my jam.

Unfortunately the groom being a douchenozzle is not a legal reason to object to a wedding. But it really should be.

Fersali being all snuggly and cute during the vows is fucking precious. I love Fersali. Protect Fersali at all costs.

I’m ok with playing Jamie and Claire’s music over Bree and Roger’s wedding because like, this is the culmination of all the shit that Jamie and Claire went through together and I’m all for making stuff just about them, haha. But otherwise, weird choice to not give Bree and Roger their own theme?

Also, I get that it’s a better choice to have a character we already know and have established stakes with be here to do the red coat stuff, but loool at the thought of the fucking governor coming to this random backcountry wedding. Tryon, buddy, I get that Murtz is your white whale, but you look obsessed in a bad way, bruh.

GERMAIN!!! I FUCKING LOVE GERMAIN! I FUCKING LOVE THAT JAMIE TALKS SHIT ABOUT PRESBYTERIANS TO GERMAIN! GIVE ME ALL THE SASSY SMOLS!

“Some of us like to think before we act.” Oh fuck all the way off, Roger. ALL THE WAY OFF.

“There was me thinking that you were just trying to shut me up for a minute.” I mean, that was an added bonus, Rog.

Sophie has really gotten so much better at acting. She’s always such a goddamn delight on press tours and I’m like *rull* glad to see her growing into the role.

Lizzo/Flute Lady from the Wedding Band 2020

I 100% wanna chill with JQM and Fersali. This squad of cool kids seems aggressively more fun than the dancers.

Oh Isiah Morton. If only you could keep it in your pants.

I LOVE FERGUS WITH MY WHOLE HEART.

I LOVE MARSALI POSSIBLY EVEN MORE.

GODDAMN IT I JUST LOVE FERSALI SO FUCKING HARD.

Seriously, the sass and theatricality and sarcasm of Marsali Fraser. I stan. I fucking stan.

Also I 100% kept reciting “To sit in solemn silence...” through that whole scene. Once a theater kid, always a theater kid.

Don’t be a buzzkill, LJG. I love that posh nerd. Except when he’s being a fucking creeper about Jamie to Claire.

“Mistress, can I dance with the guy I thought raped you because he was such a twatwaffle?” “Sure, Lizzie, go for it! Because we’re all friends now.”

We’re just leaning in on the dad stuff this episode. The hot dads of Riverdale should form a gang with the hot dads of the Ridge just for kicks.

Obligatory fuck the writers for including Bree’s rape. Since they did though, good on them for showing her PTSD. Although fuck them for including such a graphic flashback. Much like the choices they made in the season one finale, it centers the rapist and the act more than the survivor.

Can this please be the only Fred reference this season? Also love to lightly joke about an emotionally abusive asshole who treated Claire like shit and used Bree as a weapon against her. Claire, being the bigger person she’s always been, will obvs not speak ill of Fred to Bree (unlike how Freddy boy undermined Claire in front of Bree), but Bree is now aware of just how shitty Fred was. Even if he wasn’t overtly shitty to her, her still being all lovey about him, knowing what he did to her mother, is lowkey super fucked up. “Well I know he was shitty to other people, but he never did anything to me” is never a good look.

Bree hugging Jemmy, oh man, I just wanna give her a hug and tell her everything’s gonna be ok.

Jocasta is still trash (there’s no such thing as a benevolent slave owner) but this Murcasta scene is a goddamn delight.

OK BUT NOW I NEED FAN ART OF MURTZ AS A FAIRY KING!

Roger singing to Bree is cute and all, but then using the music for the whole montage is cheesy af and I don’t think I like it.

Is that Arch and Murdina I spy there in the crowd?

Marsali is literally the most fertile woman in the Colonies.

Grannie and Granda trying to get it on veryyy quietly so they don’t wake Jemmy is fucking adorable as shit and I lowkey love it.

Awww, poor LJG. I ship Lord John with someone who actually loves him.

Ok I get Murcasta having to break up because of his regulator stuff, randomly introducing Duncan Innes is a fucking weird choice.

Maria Doyle Kennedy really was the fucking perfect casting choice.

Oh hey, Josiah Beardsley. I was hoping they’d cut out the whole thing with the Beardsleys and Lizzie, but honestly, I’ll take that silliness over Emo!Roger any day.

Good on Jocasta for being a clever MacKenzie, but fuck Roger for only doing the right thing when he’s insulted into it. TL;DR: Fuck Roger.

Is Gerald Forbes going to randomly turn into Neil Forbes at some point like he does in the book?

DOCTOR CLAIRE FOR THE WIN GIVE ME ALL THE DOCTOR CLAIRE.

Srsly, I am here for Jamie shitting on Roger at literally every opportunity. Preach, Jamie. Preach.

“I’ll leave you to yer patients. And to wage war with your wee invisible beasties.” Seriously though, this is my jam. This playful banter. For so much of the series, it’s been like do these two even like each other? Because the writers kept trying to make the show into something it wasn’t. Politics, war, characterization flipflops and assholery FoR tHe DrAmA. It was so hard to see why Claire would ever pick this guy. I’m very cautiously optimistic that more shit like this will be peppered in this year because dammit, this is why we’re all fucking here.

“Then ye must find yerself a lieutenant.” Can it be Marsali? Please? Can Marsali be Claire’s lieutenant?! Because cutting the whole Malva bullshit would be ideal. And Fersali gets so sidelined in the later books that I’d fucking LOVE the writers to make changes so they can be more centered with the rest of the fam. And I am fucking obsessed with Claire and Marsali’s relationship. Marsali is the most Claire Jr. character in this whole damn show and I WANT THEM TOGETHER IN FRONT OF MY EYEBALLS.

Roger pricks his index finger but smudges the blood on Jemmy’s head with his thumb. Not the takeaway of this scene at all. But since I don’t like Roger, that’s my bullet for it.

Also I love that they switched the whole raise a militia thing to a hunt for Murtz & Squad rather than needing to do it because some randos are somewhere doing a thing and then lol jk they left so you can all go home like it is in the book.

Totally called it that they were going to combine the two bonfires and that this was when the kilt was gonna make its triumphant return.

Also I fucking love that it’s the music from Je Suis Prest during the scene when Jamie puts his kilt back on.

And thank fuck they didn’t put any dialogue/voiceover in this scene when Claire sees Jamie. It’s so much more powerful without it.

Aaand we’re burning a cross. At least they were smart enough not to burn a Roman cross, but they’re still burning a cross instead of just doing a bonfire. The scene could be just as powerful had it been adapted to not have a burning cross. Fuck them, tbh.

Remember that time that fuckwit Roberts tried to be like oh we’re not *really* burning a cross so we’re not racist but we’re not gonna address it directly because lol out fanbase is fucking wicked conservative and also a fucking cult who will yell at us for changing anything.

Because seriously that twatwaffle really tried to pretend like a celtic cross isn’t a religious symbol so they’re not having a KKK rally in this white supremacist hellscape. FUCK THAT GUY FOR BOTH HIS SHITTY DECISIONS AND ALSO FOR ACTING LIKE WE’RE ALL FUCKING IDIOTS.

BuT hIsToRy AnD tHe BoOk! Fuck that. Do. Not. Burn. Crosses. But they showed a lynching last year for the sole purpose of showing the shocked white people, so of course they fucking burned a cross.

Jamie being both himself and Colum from the Gathering in season one at the same time is a fucking sight to see.

The look on Knox’s face is *chef’s kiss*. Bruh you don’t even *know* who you’re dealing with.

Aaand in a move that is not at all shocking, Roger hesitates *again*, when Jamie extends his hand to him. Fuck, and I cannot stress this enough, that guy. I get that he’s untrained and scared or whatever, but buddy you deal with that shit tomorrow. You don’t fucking leave Jamie hanging when he’s doing this big theatrical thing in an effort to fucking save his land and tenants. Ugh.

FERGUS, SON OF HIS NAME AND HIS HEART! Jamie and Claire’s first kid getting the props he fucking deserves. ILY SO MUCH FERGS!

Marsali’s face when Fergus goes to give his oath. Just the pride and love there. I JUST LOVE THEM SO FUCKING MUCH OK.

I appreciate the commitment to the shitty green screen of that titular Ridge, haha.

That is a *rull* phallic rock in your circle, Murtz.

BUT...ALWAYS TAKE A MURTAGH! *cries*

This is a real gut punch of a scene, tbh. It’s 100% the right thing to do, but damn, right in the fucking feels.

This episode, with my selective amnesia activated per the above lol, has me more hopeful for how a season might be than I’ve been in a while. But this feeling has consistently been crushed in the past. Here’s to hoping the show finally stops doing us dirty!

[alwayshaveneverholdd]

★ 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓊𝓈𝓉 || 𝒞𝒽𝑜𝒾 𝒮𝒶𝓃 ★

★ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: ballet dancer!san x female!reader

★ 𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: romance, angst, some shitty comedy

★ 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: hickeys, mentioned fist fights, cringey romance

★ 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 2.4k

★ 𝓘𝓭𝓮𝓪 𝓫𝔂: @starsforten​

★ 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓕𝓸𝓾𝓻 ★

The problem started one spring night when San knocked on your door. It was gloomy outside, smelling of rain but not delivering. Your mother was out with her friends and likely wouldn’t be home until the wee hours of the morning, or even the next day if she crashed at a girlfriend’s house. You were expecting San, and you were a little nervous because you two would be alone all night for the first time. You’re not even sure what you were thinking because no lines had been crossed. San wasn’t your boyfriend, but an inkling of hope remained inside of you that something would happen that night. At least it partly came true.

Soju’s sweet and strong scent raced up your nostrils, making you recoil as soon as you opened the door. San was leaning his head sloppily on the frame, staring at you through half-lidded and bloodshot eyes. His hands hung limp at his sides, not containing any type of snack or candy. Cargo pants snaked up his legs to his torso where his black t-shirt was tucked in, snatching his waist. Sometimes you were envious of his proportions—but at that moment, you were utterly confused. Your expression faltered slightly as you stared at him. His top lip was split with blood smeared above it and a reddish bruise bubbling beneath the skin around it—it was fresh.

“음안녕 여쁜이,” Mmmm’hi beautiful, he mumbled, blinking a few times. “미안. 미안해. 진짜 미안해.” Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. He slurred this last bit, and you weren’t sure if you should take his words literally.

At first, you had to swallow the lump in your throat, for your gaze had traveled down from his eyes to his nose, to his lips, to his chin, to the hickey on his neck. It wasn’t necessarily sadness or anger that welled behind your eyes. It wasn’t jealousy or defeat. You’re still not sure what it was, but it took every ounce of strength you had not to cry seeing him like that. Your closest friend, your secret crush, your study partner; the person you wanted to have everything in the world. There he was, sloppy drunk with the remnants of a hookup and a fight. That wasn’t the life he deserved—to be used and tossed away, a slave to his low self-esteem.

You could only stare at him and blink away your tears. With one finger, he drew a line in the air between you two, asking if he could come inside. Part of you wanted to tell him to go home and sober up, but the rest of you wanted to cradle him in your arms and tell him to realize how wonderful he was. Because he was—San was extraordinary in everything he did and said. In your eyes, anyway. So you told him to come in and he dragged his feet as he passed you, slyly hooking one hand onto your wrist. After you closed the door, he still hadn’t let go. His grip was gentle and loose, but he showed no signs of letting go. When you looked at him, his head was hung, his dark hair covering his eyes. His lips quivered. Tears followed, streaming down his face while he refused to look at you.

Until your own salty tears seeped through the part in your lips to touch your tongue, you hadn’t realized that you, too, had started to cry watching him. Now he was sniffing and letting out small whimpers, his shoulders shaking. He still wouldn’t look at you. You quickly wiped your tears with your free hand and reached over to rub his back.

“왜? 무슨 일 있어?” What is it? Did something happen? Your voice was barely above a whisper.

San reached up to rid himself of his sadness with the back of his hand, letting go of your wrist. “자고 싶다,” I wanna go to sleep, he said, voice shaking. “여기 잠들 할 수 있어?” Can I sleep here?

You didn’t even stop to think. You said, “어 그럼,” Yeah, of course, and led him to your room.

As San shuffled behind you, you couldn’t help the sinful thoughts that filled your mind. He was drunk and vulnerable—you weren’t going to take advantage of him. But what if he wanted you to? No. You still wouldn’t. What if he touched you and kissed you and said he wanted to make you his? A chill ran up your spine and you had to shake it off before pointing to your bed. San crawled in without a word, letting himself disappear under the covers. You, in turn, opened your closet to get out your blankets to set up on the floor, but then you heard him call your name. It was small, and you weren’t even sure it was him at first, but when you looked back at your bed, San’s head was peeking out from under your comforter. His eyes were red stained glass.

“나한테 오다,” Come to me, he said.

It was a strange phrase and he had never said that to you before, but his tired voice and his hand beckoning you gave you a warm, fuzzy feeling. You hesitated for a moment, the intensity of San’s aura almost pushing you the other way. You finally recognized then that that was the feeling that made you avoid him for so long. Intense emotions, a magnetic connection—but you weren’t afraid anymore. There was nothing to be scared of in San’s gentle spirit or his pouty lips. His soft hands and heavy eyes. His warm skin and comforting touch.

You were already lying down next to him before you realized that you were studying his face under the covers. It was somewhat dark, an orangey glow lighting up the space from your bedroom light that you hadn’t turned off. San was studying you as well, and by his increasing alertness, you decided that the alcohol was wearing off. Even so, he lifted one finger toward your face. You kept your eyes trained on his as he traced your lips with his light touch. Your heart pounded—there was no way he couldn’t hear it going ballistic against your ribcage. The air was being drained from your lungs and you convinced yourself that you had to kiss him to be able to breathe again.

San’s finger ventured to the side of your face, tracing down and around your jaw, over your ear, and back around to your other one. He traced a few circles around each of your eyes, and you grabbed his wrist, desperate for him to do something daring. Maybe he could tell that you were slightly out of breath, his actions getting you all worked up. San stopped, examining you once more.

Then he dropped his hand, gently pulling away from your touch so he could hold it tightly against his chest. He said, “자러 가,” Go to bed, and closed his eyes.

You watched him for a moment, disappointed and mystified all at once. No, you couldn’t have kissed him. He was hurt—and that hurt you. It took a few minutes, but he fell asleep quickly, his grip on your hand only loosening a bit. San: so beautiful, so kind, so sweet. What was he thinking? You didn’t know, but you had discovered right then and there that you could never be just friends with him. You had never been just friends, and there was no point in fooling yourself into thinking that was ever a possibility.

The days of hanging out in denial were over—you just weren’t sure how to approach him anymore.

When you opened your eyes to the faint yellow light surrounding the blanket, San was still lying beside you. In his sleep, he had pulled your hand closer to him with both hands, and you must’ve moved with his pull because you two were only inches apart. He was already awake, a morning blush dusting his cheeks pink. He blinked groggily at you and a noise vibrated from inside his throat. When he did finally part his lips to speak, his voice was still thick with sleep. He simply asked you if you had any dreams. When you told him that you hadn’t, a smile pulled at half of his lips, no words to be spoken in response.

After you two had gotten up and brushed your teeth, washed your faces, and gotten dressed (well, not him, because he didn’t have any clothes at your place) in silence, San took you to a nearby international cafe that served breakfast foods not traditionally prepared in Korea. It was late by the time you two got out the door (your mother still wasn’t home), so he opted for a brunch spot. There wasn’t much conversation between leaving your apartment and arriving, but he seemed very light. As if he hadn’t cried and touched your face last night—he was jovial as always, not missing a beat. He didn’t bring up any of it, either. He just smiled, left fleeting touches on your back and waist, and pulled your chair out for you when the waiter showed you two to a table.

As soon as you sat down, he broke the awkward and quiet nature of the energy between you two up until that point. He began telling you all about the people in his dance classes—something he had kept well-hidden before. He told you about the friends he had made, and how most of them were amateurs. He told you about running into Yunho and reconnecting with him, about meeting his other friends and basically just acquiring a plethora of them. That led to him explaining that he was at a party last night, and the way he described it, it was unlike anything you or him had ever seen.

A huge house, bigger than Yunho’s, hosted a couple thousand students from various dance schools. San invited Yunho, who invited all of his friends and only added to the numbers. San ran into a few kids from the SeoulArts audition that he didn’t mesh well with. He almost got into a fight with them, but a bouncer threatened to kick all of them out if any trouble was started. Then, without explaining the reasoning behind it, he said that he began to drink himself half-to-death before embarking on the next few hours, which were blurry and filled with dancing with strangers and making out with this one girl who actually had a boyfriend. The boyfriend, who happened to be the party’s host, found out by the end of the night and gave San his split lip before having him thrown out.

Even after hearing the story, you couldn’t help feeling like you still didn’t know why he came to you or why he cried, or why he touched you so gently. Brought back to the somewhat high-end cafe, the white lace table cloth under your plate, the coffee beside you, and San smiling sadly in front of you, your eyes moved over his lip. A scab had formed, and he had rid himself of the blood smear earlier that morning. However, his bruise was now multiple shades of purple and red. The hickey still stood proud, blotchy, and dark.

“왜 다른 사람의 여자친구에게 키스했니?” Why did you kiss someone else’s girlfriend?

San shrugged, averting his gaze to stare down at his plate of berry French toast. He moved the powered-sugar-covered pieces around with his fork, his movements reflected in the sunlit syrup. “나도 몰라,” I don’t know, he muttered with a slight pout. “나는 너무 취해서 땅바닥의 구멍에서 내 엉덩이를 알 수 없었다.” I was so drunk I didn’t know my ass from a hole in the ground.

You were trying to think of a response, willing away the nagging disappointment that sat and soured in your stomach. Before you could, he added, quietly, “난 그녀가 너인 줄 알았던 것 같아.” I think I thought she was you.

His words rendered you speechless, and despite the sinking feeling and the thump of your heart in your chest and the blood roaring in your ears—you smiled. It was a physical reaction that you couldn’t control, and San’s shoulders relaxed for the first time that morning when you did. He mirrored your expression, saying nothing; you had both said all you needed to.

It was easy to change the subject and continue the conversation like normal, sharing laughs and grins over your fancy breakfast and cups of coffee (yours iced with almond milk and his hot with a thousand packets of sugar and creamer). He paid for everything, and you playfully argued over it for half-a-block until you arrived at your next destination: a comic cafe. There, you skipped the drinks and went straight for the manga, claiming a small reading pod for you two to “read” in. Even after picking out your own respective comics, you ended up sitting close enough to touch, heads bent in as you whispered of secrets and high school stories, trying not to laugh loud enough to get kicked out.

When you had to go to class, San kicked at the concrete you two stood on in front of your school. He told you to have fun and study hard. You thanked him, but when you turned around he said, “아, 한번 더.” Oh, one more thing. You looked back at him, and he was smiling despite his lip, dimples glinting in the afternoon sun. “다른 남자 보지 마, 알았지?” Don’t look at any other guys, okay? 

Every inch of you felt like it was melting, but you couldn’t let him see how whipped you were—so you only scoffed and pointed at his neck. “일단, 난 그 일에 대한 복수를 해야 해.” I have to get revenge for that, first. Then you continued up the steps, raising your hand with a “내일봐!” See you tomorrow!

“내일? 근데 오늘밤?” Tomorrow? Can I come over tonight? 

You didn’t have to be looking at him to know he was openly pouting, calling after you with a sense of urgency. However, you ignored his pleas and went to class. It was difficult to pay attention, though, as your mind was overrun with thoughts of San. His lips, his voice, his touch. You craved more of it as the moments drew on. That phase didn’t last long, because he showed up at your apartment that night. Your mother had come home by then, but she still didn’t mind all the time you two spent in your room together. The walls were thin so you couldn’t get away with anything, really. Things were pretty innocent up until his lip healed, anyway.

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