#I also drew this like. a week ago. in the middle of class. so.

[chocolaminity]

what do you mean this isn't how it went

[ecrisparfois]

sketchbook

summary :  Y/N drew Draco in the middle of class, and got caught.

warning(s) : Umbridge

words : 1.3k

A/N : This is inspired by a real life event lol, so very self-indulgent. I miss story with plots :( Working on one but tbh I rather read than write because even though writing is one of my hobbies, not writing is also my hobby. so, yeah.

.

Umbridge class is might be the last class you wanted to be in right now. It might sound a bit harsh, but you rather have death eater disguised in Mad Eye Moody than her. Despite what he did last year, he's clearly way more competent than the women standing in front of the class. Speaking of the disguised defense against the dark arts teacher last year, you remember how he turned Draco into a ferret. You snorted at the memory, your pals in the neighboring desk send you a look of concern which you return with a reassuring shook.

You glance at the sight of Draco in the other side of the class. The sight of him under the morning sun caused you to gasp softly, stunned. He seemed just as bored as everyone else in the room; his lips curved down makes unnoticeable pout; his eyes looking back and forth from the blackboard to his textbook; his slender long finger holding the quill, dip it to the ink bottle in front of him every other minute; his head laid flat on his palm, his elbow on the desk helping his arm support the weight of his head; white blonde hair of his look so soft, reflecting the morning light.

You instinctively grabbed the sketchbook and pencil in your satchel. Ready to draw the Slytherin across the room. You took out the needed supplies without second thought. After all, fuck this class. Draco's beautiful features under the good lighting was too precious to be missed. You tossed your textbook to the side, flipping your sketchbook and readjust your seat to get a better position while drawing Draco. As if he knew of your activity, he stayed still like a good model. He didn't move much and his facial expressions didn't change.

An hour later, after glances you took of him so often, Draco beautiful features imprinted on the paper of your sketchbook. You grinned in satisfaction; looking back and forth from the sketch to Draco across the classroom. Not bad, just need a little completion. You just about to continue to go on a few small details when out of nowhere, Umbridge showed up behind your shoulder.

"Ms Y/L/N," your hands freeze at the painfully sweet voice. "What are you doing?" she asked sweetly, but her eyes already attached to the sketch.

You opened your mouth to answer and give her excuses but immediately shut it close as you realised 'bored' was not an acceptable reason to draw your classmate.

"Is that Mr Malfoy?" she snatched the sketchbook from your hand before you even have time to process what she was doing.

My precious Draco, you cried silently as she brought the sketchbook to her desk.

Draco shoot his head at your direction as he heard his name mentioned. He furrowed his eyes at you in disapproval, you refuse to meet his eyes in embarrassment. Your face growing warm as Umbridge flipped page after page of your sketchbook. You prayed to whatever God that might exist to keep Umbridge's mouth shut and to give her a bit of compassion not to humiliate you in front of the whole class. It seemed like God must be nonexistent, because Umbridge sent you a wickedly sweet smile that made you loath the sight of her even more than you did before.

"Ms Y/L/N. Do you think you're a good artist?" she asked with a mocking tone. "Your sketch is awful." she added before you could answer. Her hands dangerously brought your sketchbook up and flip it for the class to see.

It was a few weeks ago, Hermione in library reading her book. She flipped to another random pages, Daphne and Pansy painted each other nails. And last, she showed the whole class your latest sketch of Draco with his bored face. The whole class wasn't laughing at you, instead they send you an emphatic look. Umbridge seemed to be unsatisfied with the lack of humiliating response from your fellow classmates.

"You have a crush on Mr Malfoy? You drew him quite often," her questions pushed you off the edge. How dare she barge in to your personal space.

"That's none of your concern. You could insult me for my drawings, but you shouldn't ask about my personal life because you don't have the right to." you snapped at her. You know it was a bad move when you heard a few gasps from your classmates.

Surely, Umbridge face turned sour. "Detention, Ms Y/L/N. Don't talk to me like that and don't sketch anyone ever again. You’re an awful artist; to be sketched in your Merlin awful drawing is the biggest insult anyone could ever receive," she spat venomously.

She walks right to the middle in front of the class, still carrying your sketchbook. You expected her to return the book to your hand, but when she muttered 'incendio' your heart dropped. Seconds later, your sketchbook had burn to ashes. You don't know what exactly you must be feeling. You’re mad, sad and embarrassed all at the same time. The class was dismissed right after that. She leaving after sternly told you to go to her office after dinner for detention.

You’re so embarrassed you can’t look at anyone even when they pat your shoulder softly in attempt of reassurance.

"Hey Y/L/N," a soft voice calling your name. You turned around to find Draco standing behind you.

"Oh, hello, Malfoy." you nodded at him before realizing he must think how much of a creep you are for drawing him 'quite often' without his permission. "I'm so sorry, Malfoy. I didn't mean to creep you out or stalk you or anything. It's just I found you quite attractive when the light fell right on you," you rambled.

He just chuckled. "You think I'm attractive?" he smirked and rise his eyebrows.

Damn it! You should think through your words before sputtering things and embarrass yourself.

"Uh, no. I mean, yeah. Everyone is attractive to draw if they have the right light. Anyway, I'll stop sketching you. It's awful anyway, sorry again," your voice gradually got quieter. You look at the ground as if Draco was scolding you.

"Your sketch is lovely." he said with a genuine smile. You gaped at him in astonishment. "I'm flattered you choose me as one of your models. Thanks for sketching me 'quite often'," he put an emphasis at the last two words. You smiled bashfully. "Walk with me?" he offered. You just nod.

For that day, you were not sure if you should be mad for Umbridge destroying your months of works or do you have to be grateful for the newfound friendship you have with the boy you had a crush on for sometimes.

Bonus:

You walk to your room to find a package on the bed.

"Dray, what is it a package on the bed?"

"What package? I don't know just open it!" your husband yells back from kitchen.

You look at the fancy wrapping paper investigatively. You tear it to get a clue of what inside. You can’t believe your eyes as it sets to a familiar front cover of your old sketchbook. It was the one Umbridge set on fire! A note falls to your feet. You pick it up.

Yes, it is what you think. You should be thankful to have an exceptionally genius husband, like me. I like the drawings by the way, I think I look better on your sketchbook ;)

Love x

D, Malfoy

"Do you like it?" Draco asks softly, sneak his arm around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder.

"I like it. I love it, I love you," you jump on him, make him chuckle.

"I love you too." he kiss your temple lovingly.

[gumnut-logic]

Alexander Sweetapple and the Volcanic Island (Part 2)

Sweetapple Series Alexander Sweetapple and the Volcanic Island - Part 1 | Part 2

This one was actually written a while ago, but it wasn't working, so I finally sat down tonight and ironed it out a bit better. Well, I hope it's better because it hasn't been read by anyone and it is nearly midnight here.

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the original reread which needed the editing and partial re-write ::hugs tight:: and also to @womble1 for writing part one and being a wonderful support for this series.

Also to all of you who have given your time to support Mr Sweetapple. With out you guys, he would not be the person he is.

The first bit of this might seem familiar as I posted it as a WIP Wednesday at some point, probably on the wrong day of the week.

Again, this is male/male romance, so if that isn't your thing, this isn't your fic.

I hope you enjoy these 2200-odd words.

-o-o-o-

“This is the Comms Room.”

Virgil put a gentle hand on Alex’s lower back to direct him out of the elevator and around a corner.

“This is where we brief and debrief missions.”

The room was huge. Massive glass doors opened onto a triangular balcony giving a fantastic view of the Island’s caldera.

Alex frowned at the glass doors, which were also triangular. He could see the track in the floor that they obviously followed to slide open and closed, but due to their triangular shape they wouldn’t be able to open on a straight plain. The glass must retreat down into the wooden floor somehow.

He built possible solutions in his head, throwing out unsatisfactory calculations, one after the other.

“Alex?”

“Huh?”

Virgil was frowning at him and Alex realised he was several steps closer to the doors than he had been…and standing in the middle of the room building door designs in his head.

“I’m okay.” Maybe a little stunned by…well, everything…but okay. Maybe he was just grasping at the familiar?

That hand appeared in the small of his back again.

He quite liked it being there.

“This is my brother John.”

Startled, Alex turned and came face to face with the one Tracy brother he had yet to meet. Red hair, blue and gold uniform…

“Hello, Alex. It is very nice to finally meet you.” Mr John Tracy held out a hand.

Oh, wow. “You’re the Voice Who Answers?”

“Yes.”

“The Eye in the Sky?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Thunderbird Five!” Oh my god!

“That would be me.”

Alex turned to Virgil. “This is amazing! I knew he was real! I knew it!”

Virgil had a very odd expression on his face.

Alex would analyse that later because he was talking to Thunderbird Five! He turned back to John to find a smirk on the man’s face.

“The rumours of my non-existence have been greatly exaggerated.”

A laugh burst out of Alex.

Now Virgil was frowning at him.

“Well, it looks like you’ve been out-classed this time, Virgil.” Mr Scott Tracy, no hologram required, appeared from behind the grinning astronaut, one arm resting across John’s shoulders, with a smile all of his own.

Alex’s eyes widened as he realised exactly what he had been saying, how it might appear, and, oh god, what had he done?!

It was only the soft hand at the small off his back that held him in place. The hand that slipped further around him and drew him gently closer to Virgil.

That soft and deep voice. “I’m not worried. John lives to be mysterious.”

“Hey!”

“What? Admit it, you love living on a super-secret space station.” Virgil’s arm was very warm.

“Yeah, but-“

Scott Tracy rolled his eyes in such a goofy manner, Alex was questioning if he was actually the same professional super god he had always thought him to be. “Face it, Johnny, he’s got you there.”

“Don’t call me ‘Johnny’.”

Scott squeezed him gently. “You’ll always be Johnny to me. Especially when you think I don’t know about half the things you get up to up there.”

John frowned. “What?”

But Scott was nodding. “Yes, I do know about the discos and the light displays.” He tapped his nose. “A little bird told me.”

“Well, the little bird and I will be having words later.”

Virgil half whispered in Alex’s ear. “Scott is toast.”

Commanding blue eyes were darting between two brothers. “In any case, welcome to Tracy Island, Alex.”

“Uh, thank you. Uh, for having me…and mum.”

His mother was off somewhere with Mrs Tracy. The two of them appeared to be embarking on a friendship that had Alex just a little terrified.

Mr Tracy’s eyes darted ever so slightly in Virgil’s direction before returning to Alex. “You are most definitely welcome.”

-o-o-o-

Mr Tracy and John excused themselves after that and retreated to a desk on the far side of the room.

Virgil returned his hand to Alex’s back and led him down into the sunken lounge, offering him a seat.

“Sorry about that.” Alex wanted to crawl under the couch cushions.

“About what? John?”

Alex nodded.

Virgil snorted. “You made his day. Living in space is his preferred place but out of sight is out of mind and sometimes he can be forgotten.” A sigh and Virgil looked over at his red-haired brother. “It doesn’t hurt to remind him of how valued he is.”

“He lives up there?”

Dark eyes turned back to him. “Yeah.” His voice was wistful and Alex received the distinct impression that Virgil preferred John stay on terra firma.

“You don’t like him being up there?”

“I like it that he’s happy.”

Alex reached over and slipped his hand into Virgil’s, interlacing his strong fingers with his own and squeezing just a little.

Virgil looked at him and smiled, leaning towards Alex, enough for their shoulders and arms to touch.

For a moment, it was very, very nice.

But then Virgil looked down and frowned “Alex, there’s something you need to know.”

Alex immediately backed off. “I’m sorry-“

Virgil’s eyes widened. “No. No, this…” He held up their clasped hands, not letting Alex pull away. “…this, is wonderful.” He reached out with his other hand and nudged Alex closer, drawing their foreheads together gently. “Trust me on that.”

A blush rose in Alex’s cheeks. “Okay.” It would take some getting used to.

Though that hand on the back of his neck teasing the short hairs at the base of his skull - that he could really get used to.

It was very distracting.

“Alex, I need to tell you about Māhia.”

His heart stopped.

“What about Māhia?”

“We took some damage in the earthquake.”

Alex pulled away. “What? Are they okay?”

The hand moved to Alex’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “They’re fine. Everyone is fine. There were a few minor injuries, but everyone is safe.”

“What happened?”

“One of our buildings collapsed-“

“Which one? Who was hurt?”

“The main lab building, but everyone is okay.”

His heart was racing. “Erica?”

“Scott pulled her out. Some bruising and a broken arm.”

He let out a breath. Thank god. “She kicked me out. Said I should go to Gisborne with my mother for lunch.”

“We know. Scott may want to talk to you about updating your location when leaving the premises.”

There was something in Virgil’s eyes. “Oh god, you thought I was in a collapsed building?” A ragged breath. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“Alex, it’s okay. It was an error. We will learn from the error.” The ghost of a smile. “You were in a collapsed building. Just not that one.”

And Virgil had been looking for him. Alex reached up and brushed the hair above Virgil’s ear, cupping the side of his face. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s done. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.” But Virgil was leaning into his hand.

Alex reached out and drew him into a full-on hug. “I am sorry, Virgil.”

Those strong arms wrapped around Alex and for a moment everything was perfect again.

But his thoughts fell back to Māhia.

As if reading his mind, Virgil pulled away and caught his eyes. “We can contact Erica, if you like?”

Alex nodded. Virgil turned towards his two brothers over by the desk. The two brothers Alex had forgotten were in the room.

With this amount of repeated blushing, his circulation system was getting a good workout.

John nodded when Virgil asked him to put them in contact with Erica. And Alex was immediately distracted by the pink head of hair that sprung up in the centre of the lounge.

The head spun in his direction. “Alex! Oh, thank god! Are you okay? Oh! Of course, you’re okay, because I saw you and…Oh! Hi, Virgil!” A knowing smile spread across her face. “Congratulations, I hope.”

Alex stared at her. “What? How do you-? Are you okay? Virgil said you were hurt?”

She waved an arm in plaster and Alex’s eyes widened. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. But you, I hear there have been developments.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Alex felt the blush to end all blushes creep up from his toes, conquer his face and take on his hair follicles. No doubt his hair was as red as that of Thunderbird Five.

Thunderbird Five!

Wait…

“What did you hear, Erry?”

“Hear, saw, it’s everywhere. You two are the talk of the planet. Virgil, you know how to kiss a boy. I’m almost jealous.” There was admiration in her eyes.

“Erica!” It was impossible to be more embarrassed.

“What? Check the nets. You can’t tell me the sight of you two reuniting during a major disaster, like that, doesn’t pull the heart strings. I had tears of joy in my eyes, really. Fred had to get me a tissue.”

“Fred?”

“Oh, um, yeah, he’s been helping me.” She looked away a moment, then held up her injured arm. “You know, with this.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Anyway, this isn’t about me, it’s about you and your torrid love affair with a Thunderbird.”

“What?” This time it was Virgil with the outrage.

Erica immediately backed off. “Sorry, Mr Tracy.” But her trepidation didn’t last long. “Just stirring his pot. He needs regular agitation or he petrifies.”

Alex glared at her.

She sobered. “Honestly, Sweet-pie, I’m really happy for you. Happy that you’re safe, and happy that…well, you know.”

Alex looked at his feet and shifted where he sat. Erica might niggle and nag him, but she really did do it all from a kind heart. “Thank you, Erry. I’m glad you are safe, too.”

“Erica?” Mr Tracy stepped down into the lounge. “I hope you and your team are following the media blackout protocol on this matter.”

Erica stared at him for a solid moment.

Uh-oh.

“Mr Tracy, how could you think that our team would ever let Alex down like that! Our lips are sealed. We at Tracy Industries save people, not throw them to the wolves.” A pair of pink eyebrows frowned fit to get themselves unemployed.

“Erica-“

Mr Tracy held up a hand. “It’s okay, Alex.” He turned back to the outraged mass of holographic pink hair. “I’m glad to hear that we are on the same page, Ms Stoltz.”

She straightened a little more in her hologram. “Always, Mr Tracy. You can depend on us.”

“I know. Thank you, Erica.” Mr Tracy turned to look at Alex as if to ask something, but didn’t say anything, He turned back to Erica. “You take the time you need to heal. We will welcome you back when you are ready.”

She nodded before eyeing Alex again. “Sweet-pie, let him look after you. You say you’re okay, but I’ve seen less shades of red and white on a barber’s pole.”

“Erry-“

“He’s under our care, Erica. We’re keeping an eye on him.” Virgil’s arm tightened around him a little more.

“Good. We need him in one piece to finish the Siliwrap project. Now we have to dig most of it out from under the remains of the labs…” Her eyes widened, targeting Virgil. “You did tell him, didn’t you?”

“I know about the labs, Erry.” It hadn’t really sunk in. Thank goodness for automatic backups. Whoever had designed the Tracy Industries computer network deserved an award.

“Don’t you worry, Sweet-pie. Fred has recovery underway. At this rate we’ll have new labs before you make it back.” Her smile returned and targeted Virgil, obvious in the hint that Alex’s stay would be prolonged.

“That’s good to hear, Erica.” Virgil’s tone was polite and perhaps a little amused. “We will keep in touch. Get better soon. Tracy Island out.”

And she was gone

The room seemed suddenly so quiet in her absence. But then he realised that both Mr Tracy and John were no longer in the room either. Where did they go?

“She cares very much about you.”

Huh? “Erry? Yeah, she’s a bit of a lifesaver.”

“I can see that.” Virgil was smiling.

Alex found himself smiling too. But then…

“She said we were on the nets.”

Virgil’s smile disappeared. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“About what?”

A sigh and Virgil pulled away a bit, reaching for a remote control. He fiddled for a moment and a scene flickered up where Erica had been moments before.

A holographic Virgil was walking across devastated ground, beelining for a holographic version of Alex, who hadn’t noticed his approach.

The expression on holographic Virgil’s face was pure shock.

Alex’s twin caught sight of him. The joy on his own face was a thing from fairytales or the latest romcom.

And then they were kissing.

Wow. Erica hadn’t been wrong. They hadn’t held back.

It was enough to get him hot under his collar.

Virgil was still holding his hand and squeezed gently.

“There are various versions online. This is one of the better ones. We’re working on curtailing its spread, but it has escaped containment. John’s on it, but for the moment, we’re trending.” There was apology in those dark eyes.

Alex turned back to the holoprojector where another version of ‘The Thunderbird Kiss’ began playing. Comments were scrolling past the image, along with the number of likes still climbing despite already being in the millions.

Oh, hell.

-o-o-o-

TBC?

[fifteensjukebox]

tagged by @amidalleia tysm!!💖

last song: winning by emily haines & the soft skeleton has been in my head and i have whatever a photographic memory but for music is called so i think it counts. i was trying to figure out the change in timing starting about a minute into the song and my memory wasn't good enough to figure it out, and i think the last song i actually listened to was wet blanket by metric (emily's band) in the car yesterday. what can i say i love her! (the update is that I tossed this post into my drafts earlier and i have now actually listened to winning and almost figured out what she's doing but i'll have to discuss with my music theory-knowing brother)

favourite color: turquoise/mint/teal/sage/cool amethysty purples/the denim blue VW car colour (my beloved first car was a vw beetle we called lulu so that colour is now lulu blue in my house à la dodie yellow)

currently watching/reading:

rewatching btvs and angel mid s4/s1 respectively while showing it to my mom and brother for the first time! it's taking ages but we're having the best time

gilmore girls - (late mid s3) first watch w my parents! there's so much i know from here and so much i don't but i know i love jess

grey's anatomy - watched s1-17 with my family a few years ago (begrudgingly at first bc i so did not want to watch a medical show. and sooo long! but it really is that good (sometimes)) & have been watching weekly as it airs since, but we just caught up on the first bit of the current season yesterday bc i didn't realize it was back. and i love the new class of interns so much we are SO BACK

not dead yet - the only show i'm currently watching by myself week to week as it airs and of course my favorite character is the white man i hate it here... i do love the women too though!!

doctor who 12th doctor rewatch but i stopped like a month ago in the middle of the episode before the cybermen plot starts bc it's just going to break my heart to lose bill for a third time. but i miss them! missy most of all so i will get to it soon

i'm not really reading anything at the moment but i have a couple audiobooks on hold at the library (yeah this is jenny's answer exactly but it applies!)

relationship status: single and i don't go out enough so i doubt it'll change anytime soon

sweet/savory/spicy: i want to say sweet bc i loooove sugar but i add salt to everything lately, i even added it to a rice krispie square the other day, so....

current obsessions:

also still nancy drew forever and always, but honestly i don't have a fandom hyperfixation atm! it's all about furniture shopping.... i'm looking for a small chair/stool for my bedroom desk, and a bigger table to go with my living room big chair so i can have my laptop/food/whatever else i want bc i seem to spend most of my time here

and emily haines/metric music (lately i haven't been listening to much me after 2007, but i love the more recent stuff just as much!

last thing you googled: something about the st vincent rock&roll hall of fame exhibit bc i'd seen a clip about it on someones story but i couldn't find the full video (still haven't)

no-pressure tags: @redheadedbrunette @apolloamy @godofsmallthings @jemhowling @acafemmeic @electrictouchfeaturingfalloutboy @coldnightairinmylungs & anyone else who wants to! i love these sm

[monsterrae1]

I don't know what this is but it's @eddiesbleps fault, so this one's for you Gee!

Stop time right here in the moonlight.

It had been weeks now.

Weeks of waiting to hear any news about his state, weeks of keeping a bed side vigil at every chance he could, weeks of holding Buck's unmoving hand and plead him to wake up. Weeks of crying confessions while tightly holding his hand, weeks of watching him breath through a tube and hearing the heart monitor beat in a slow rhythm.

It had been weeks, and the only thing that seemed to change in Buck was his hair, and his beard. Both hadn't stopped growing in the time he had been laying in that hospital bed. Eddie had taken the job of carefully trimming down his beard without disturbing his breathing tube, and making sure his hair didn't tangle.

If Buck had been awake, he'd be telling Eddie that the average hair growth per month was half an inch, and that finger nails grew 3 millimeters per month. Eddie would've laughed and told him it was disgusting.

But now, now when according to the inch and a half growth of Buck's hair he had been gone for three months. Not gone, no. Asleep, in a coma, whatever, he wasn't fully there and that was what was killing Eddie slowly.

He ran his finger slowly through the long curls, the longer it got the wilder the curls got, Eddie had experience with Chris hair, so he started to bring brushes and once or twice a week he would just sit there and brush out the tangles made by time, by the nurses moving him around and not paying attention to his hair - Eddie didn't blame them, he knew that they were busy - and he'd tell him about his day.

"Chris drew you another picture" He said that day "Can't lie, kid's getting better, we might have to look into some art classes for him, if he wants to"

Naturally, Buck didn't answer. They had taken out the breathing tube two days ago, he had started to fight it in the middle of the night and everyone thought it meant he'd wake up soon. But he was taking his sweet time to do so.

"I miss your eyes, how stupid is that?" Eddie admitted as he got settled into Buck's side, close enough to brush his hair out without issues, they had been cleaning it with dry shampoo and Eddie usually brought some leave in conditioner to keep it from drying out. He knew how picky was about his hair, and he didn't want him to wake up and hated what had happen to it. "I also miss your laugh,

I never noticed how bright it was, until…” He shook his head, falling into silence as he focused back on his task. These weren’t thinks he hadn’t said before, he felt like maybe he’d been saying it every week for the past three months. 

Once he was done with his hair, he moved down to his beard. Thanks to the breathing tube it had gotten a little out of control, and Eddie knew how much he hated having a beard, so he had come prepared this time, draping a towel over Buck’s chest and tucking it around his neck, taking out his scissors and starting to trim down the long hairs.

“I could go pro by now” Eddie mumbled “I’m gonna bill you for all of this once you’re awake” A nurse laughed on the other side of the room, attending to another patient. “Sorry” He apologized “didn’t see you”

“It’s okay, you must love your husband very much” she said with a sad smile “We keep seeing you here, and you’re so devoted to him, we’re all rooting for him to wake up soon” 

Eddie smiled “Thank you, we’re too” 

He didn’t correct her on her assumption, he didn’t want to have to say, we’re not married, I’m hopelessly in love with him and he’s slipping through my fingers. No. No. He rather they think he was a devoted husband, and not a broken hearted best friend. 

Eddie focused back on his task, carefully spreading the shaving cream around his cheeks, chin and neck. Taking the razor and slowly started to remove the hair, being careful to not cut him. 

“When are you going to wake up Buck?” Eddie said once he saw the nurse leaving “Please don’t take your sweet time with this, please, please, come back to me” 

Buck didn’t wake up that day, or the day after that, or the one after. But the next week he did, just as Eddie was running his fingers through his hair and reading a book to him, he waited until Eddie was done with the chapter to let him know he was awake, and after jumping out of bed and dropping the book to the floor, Eddie finally, finally was able to see those beautiful ocean blue eyes staring back at him. 

“Hey Eds” Buck said with a raspy voice from disuse. 

“Hey Buck” Eddie smiled at him.

He knew he had to call the nurses in, the doctors too, and that Buck needed to be checked out by everyone, but he was awake, and Eddie knew, he was done wasting time. After all, he knew that tomorrow wasn’t promised to anyone.

Taglist under the cut:

Tag list: @swiftiediaz @elvensorceress @lostinabuddiehaze @idealuk @imaginger @mr-and-mr-diaz @yelenasbuddie @ldntommo @jacksadventuresinwriting @spotsandsocks @buckleyobsessed @ci5mates @aka-hawkguy @buddierights @prettyboybuckley @peaceofficerdiaz @lightningbuck @loveyourownsmiilee @eddiediazisascorpio @rogerzsteven @satashiiwrites @dickley-buddie @daughterofbuddie @bekkachaos @the-likesofus @shortsighted-owl @jobairdxx @alyxmastershipper

[ashybonic]

Nooooooo come back. i want to know more. idc if the concept is only half-baked or fully baked, or this is the first time you thought of it. I need to know more *cries*

!!!! Ok so. I first thought of this idea MONTHS ago. I was sitting in the middle of a science class when I thought “man. Super Sonic being a star is so cool. What if he went supernova. What if Shadow was a black hole.“ and so the ideas just been sitting in my head since then

Only gave it any actual thought like a week ago when I drew red supergiant Super Sonic 2, after spending like an hour on Wikipedia reading about star temperature/brightness/luminosity and all that jazz. One break down about how character colours don’t align with the temperature of what I would make them for cool symbolism (explained in next paragraph) and another breakdown about how nowhere clearly stated whether or not temperature/colour had any effect on their life cycle, I came up with this.

As for the symbolism or whatever, it was a nightmare figuring it out actually actually. Was going to make Sonic a blue star, since he’s blue, but then I made Shadow and Silver blue as like a temperature = power thing. And Sonic is kinda just a regular guy, so he’s red/colder than them. But at the same time, I wanted to make Sonic on the same level as Shadow in some way, so I eventually settled on them both being bright and “big” enough stars to supernova, but Sonic falls just short of becoming a black hole/being the ultimate lifeform. But ALSO, with this, Shadow is a blue star and Sonic is red (purely because normal Super Sonic is yellow/“cooler”), SO THEIR COLOURS ARE COMPLETELT BACKWARDS AGGGHH. Finally, I didn’t put TOO much thought into Silver’s concepts tbh. Not big enough to be a supergiant or supernova, but also powerful/hotter like Shadow. Also dimmer than Sonic or Shadow, for the same reason he isn’t a bigger star like they are.

In short: Shadow and Silver both more powerful (hotter) than Sonic, but Sonic and Shadow are both more important to the world or something like that (bigger + brighter). Shadow trumps all cuz Ultimate Lifeform.

[thef1nalb0ss]

Faction Rankings: Week of October 9, 2023- October 15, 2023

10. Gulak, Dempsey, Kemp, and Borne

The Family came up with the idea of an over-the-top tag team battle royal, where when there's two teams left, it turns into a regular tag team match. The winner are the number one contenders for the NXT Tag Team Championships. As for this faction, they have a bit of an odds advantage here, as they'll have two teams with the team of Drew and Charlie and the team of Damon and Myles competing in the battle royal.

9. Chase U

Thea showed up to class again, but she showed up with Jacy. The good news is Andre and Duke are also a part of the battle royal this week.

8. LWO

Carlito's interview was interrupted by Bobby. When Carlito challenged Bobby, The Street Profits attacked him. Because of that, Santos will go against Tez this week. Later in the night, Zelina lost to Bayley. Oh, and Logan Paul laid out a challenge for Rey for the United States Championship.

7. The Bloodline

Roman's back! And he's back in time to see Solo get pinned in a singles match for only the third time since he got called up, losing to LA. We're moving to a LA vs. Roman match, which I think we all know how it will end. Hey, at least Roman's defending! The bar is in hell.

6. The Street Profits and Bobby Lashley

I wish we could get an official name for them. Anyway, they attacked Carlito backstage, and now Tez has a match with Santos this week. It seems like Logan Paul is gonna be the next challenger for Rey's Championship, but I think Bobby is still owed a match after he defeated Rey in a non-title match two weeks ago.

5. The Brawling Brutes

A win against Gallus on Tuesday was followed by a loss to Pretty Deadly on Friday. But it wasn't a clean loss because, I mean, it was against Pretty Deadly. They have the heel handbook memorized. So a rematch of that match is probably coming.

4. The Judgement Day

Speaking of having the heel handbook memorized...

Damian tried to cash-in on Seth by ambushing him from behind and then having Dominik deliver the briefcase to him, but Dominik was stopped by Seth's next challenger, Drew. Rhea then told JD he had a chance to redeem himself after Fastlane by defeating Drew, which he didn't do. Rhea also set up both a tag title rematch for this week and a match for herself against Shayna. As for Dominik, he got a NXT Title match on Tuesday, which he lost.

3. Imperium

Ludwig and Giovanni attacked DIY backstage in a middle of an interview. Gunther will defend this week against Bronson, after he won a number one contenders match against Chad and Ricochet.

2. The Viking Raiders

Ivar had a Viking Rules match with Kofi, which he won. They are now 3-0 in Viking Rules matches.

1. Damage CTRL

Bayley won against Zelina with some outside interference from Dakota. Which the fact that Dakota is doing interference means that she's likely healing up nicely! January cannot come soon enough. Anyway, they attacked Zelina after the match, and Charlotte made the save. Charlotte then went to new Smackdown General Manager Nick Aldis, who gave her a title match against Iyo this week.

[tokiro07]

Cipher Academy ch.35 thoughts

[Prison Break]

...So Eteshite's gotta be huge to be able to move like an actual bear in that costume, yeah? Like she's deffo a monster under there, unless it's like...an animatronic suit or something. Which would be interesting, but I'd prefer she be jacked as hell. I want her to take off the bear head and she's just Isshin from Undead Unluck

Rikukeito storming Class A's stronghold to retrieve her friends wasn't totally unexpected, as I figured that Class A wasn't going to be able to maintain such an early lead for long, but seeing how seriously she ran in and demanded that her allies be returned, I'm reminded that the rest of the students aren't just brainwashed soldiers with a singular focus on victory for their "country," but children with interests and wants and, most importantly, friends

I've been saying that this is a Friendship arc for a while now, but somehow it didn't occur to me that we'd be seeing the current antagonists valuing their friends just as much as our protagonists

I imagine we're also likely to see someone devaluing Friendship in some way this arc, most likely whoever in Class F has a connection to Anonymity if I had to guess, which will result in a conflict of ideals between them and Iroha

Iroha says that he was inspired to go save Anonymity because of Rikukeito's actions, but honestly if he'd gotten the shackle off on his own, I'm confident he would have gone after her no matter what. Granted, guarding three hostages is probably more important than risking them to save just one, so maybe if she hadn't come he would have chosen to prioritize victory in accordance with Anonymity's wishes. Regardless, Iroha's experience as a hostage makes perfect sense as a motivator in this instance, even if it is effectively just a simulation. Maybe if we're lucky, we'll get to see a flashback about it?

Iroha swooping in to save Anonymity is the shippiest dang thing I've ever seen and I'm all about it. I said a while ago that I want her to just fall hopelessly and idiotically in love with him, and I stand by it. If this ends up a harem manga, I'll be down without question so long as Anonymity gets to be a dumbass in love

This chapter didn't really have a ton of introspection or much in the way of puzzles, so I don't really have much else to say about it, but before I sign off, I do want to talk about Rikukeito's statement: "you think we can't see people if their faces aren't visible?"

This lends into the Friendship theme pretty well, as that sentiment is about understanding people well enough to see them and their habits in their work or the after-effect of their actions. People aren't machines, they leave the fingerprints of their logic, their mentality, their experiences, their very life and soul in everything they do. Iroha is familiar with this concept, as it's how he was able to beat Anonymity in the first place; he recognized who drew which puzzle in Leaky Poker based on the way they were drawn and how they reflected their origins. However, at the time he couldn't read Anonymity herself very well because of Personal Package, which rendered her true face invisible, so despite familiarity with the concept, he still hasn't quite mastered the skills needed for it...until now!

Iroha just landed smack dab in the middle of THREE enemies with hidden faces, and therefore will give him similar trouble to what he had with Anonymity previously. Not much time has passed, but Iroha has shown to grow incredibly fast up to now, so this will be a good opportunity to see how else he's leveled up recently

Whatever happens, Anonymity is definitely the part I'm most excited about (surprising no one). Shame it'll be another week until we get to see what happens...

[rainbowdelicsunshine]

9, 12, 23!

9. opinion on brown eyes?

I LOVE brown eyes!! they're so pretty, they're like lil mounds of earth and gold and it's amazing! But maybe I'm being biased since I have brown eyes myself lolol!

But when I was in elementary and middle school, I used to be VERY insecure about my eye color (and hair color) since they are naturally brown (well, depending on who I ask, the answer changes from hazel to brown so I don't rlly know heh)

That was due to the girls in my school that would bully, try to be fake-friends with me, and/or would just be favored over me and a few other students most of the time having blonde hair and blue eyes at that time

Luckily, the insecurity wore off when I entered my freshman year of high school so now I'm pretty happy with my eyes and hair being brown!

12. whats a turn off you look for before you start officially dating someone

If our values don't align, we want WAY different things for our lives and are on two different pathways that we wanna take, or our beliefs are just too different!

For example, I tend to avoid right-winged/conservative people (I mean, my whole family does since we're all pretty left leaning, my dad hates the right lol), people who are the usual isms and ists out there (like, I'm not dealing with no nazi, racist bullshit or anything similar to that), or even if they don't want kind in the future since I obvs do want to have kids and a family of my own one day

At least, those are my turn offs said in the most simple terms I can use!

23. have you ever been in love?

OOOOOOO I HAVE!!!!

I was deeply in love with my very first boyfriend I had from my first year of middle school all the way to freshman year of high school. He was an autistic boy who went to the same Special Ed Homeroom and some classes that I did (and was very in MLP G4, Apex Twin and Jet Set Radio)

He was shy and awkward but also very kind, funny, and was super fun to talk to and we were able to gush about our interests to each other, drew art for each other, and I felt like he was the only one at that time that actually understood me since we were

Due to distance and and his super strict mom (they were an Asian family) that didn't like me much, after the summer and going to separate high schools in my sophomore year, we were never able to speak to each other again, so we were kinda forced to breakup by the world lol

And I was also in love with an ex that I had an online long distance relationship for a little over two years when I was 16-18 (I was 3-4 years younger than they were), we also made lots of art for each other, supported each other at the worst times of our lives, and promised each other than we would be able to meet and begin a deeper relationship outside of the internet someday

But then around May of the two year mark, they told me that they realized a small bit ago (it was like weeks prior from I remember them telling me) that they were aro and that they didn't want to be in a relationship with me anymore but still wanted to be friends

Let's just say I didn't take it well, at all since I felt it was plopped onto me outta the blue, was caught off guard, and I was in school at the time it was happening. It was not a good day....

------------------------------------------------------

Thank you soso much Beetle for sending this in, it was so much fun to answer these intriguing kind of questions! Also sorry for rambling for so long lol!

I hope I see you in here again and that you have an awesome evening!!

[animesugar]

ur obsessed

NSFW// under 18 and ageless DNI

college au, asshole!jean, fem bodied reader

cw// unprotected sex, creampie, power play (but everybody's into it) hatefucking kind of, there's nothing crazy in here but pls lmk if i missed anything

i am down bad for this man and also a good enemies to lovers arc. also this is my first one of these so pls enjoy, it's a little slow angst in the beginning but she picks up don't you worry.

what a stupid smirk. you hated the motherfucker staring at you from across the quad that was doing his best to get a rise out of you, and you had ever since his stupid undercut walked into your freshman dorm as a mid semester transfer 3 years ago. He was a prick through and through, but the kind that a less perceptive person would dismiss as charming, so he got away with it. Always 3 stops past the cutoff between funny and mean, he jaunted around campus like a king, surrounded by a mostly constant gaggle of equally-dickish (but admittedly not as clever) boys and a few token brunettes. You weren’t really sure what had made him single you out that first day to get picked on, and it wasn’t really anything obnoxious. Maybe you just weren’t in the mood to be toyed with. Maybe you didn’t want him to think you were buying into the bit. Either way, rolling your eyes and shoving his bigass head out of your face before he even got a chance to bug you at point blank range had made you antagonist number one in his eyes ever since. For three years, Kirstein comma Jean had been like a single fruit fly that just wouldn't die, buzzing around just enough to never anticipate it but to always be infuriated when it came. Sometimes, it was holding the door just long enough for you to be hit with it when he let go. Sometimes, he would spill your drink at the bar under the auspice of grinding on the girl next to you. Sometimes, it was making sure you never got to keep the same seat in any of the classes you had together, taking whatever desk you seemed to have claimed. Your only form of communication with the enemy was a morse code of eye rolls and scoffs, because you weren't even sure if the ashy-blonde beast could understand human language, so why bother. But this strategy backfired because why would anyone believe that someone who you never talk to is actually antagonizing you on purpose. He’s just popular, your friends would say, so he’s kind of in everyone’s way. He’s just everywhere all the time, it’s not personal. And honestly, they would jeer, you’ve made it clear to him to leave well enough alone. And that was true. Jean certainly wasn’t in any shortage of willing victims for his games. Most girls knew that they had a 6 in 10 shot of the taunting turning into something a little more satisfying, and the rumor was that his after hours performances were worth the price of admission. Anyway, Jean’s grating presence had been a constant in the campus ecology since that fucker stepped foot in your freshmen hall, and while you definitely thought about it a lot, your conclusion was that he was just a cocky, conceited, always-cons-his-way, asshole, and so you had long since squashed any ember of desire to be one of the stupid girls in his bed that played the game.

But then, a few weeks ago, some friends asked you if the rumor was true. You watched their faces twist into a smirk as they interpreted your confused look for feigned innocence. Oh c.mon, Jean!! they drew that little fuck’s name out in a mocking tone, I heard you two fucked in the middle of the quad last night. huh?? Wait, I thought it was the quad last saturday and the back hallway of the student center last night!! What?? Your friends are howling laughing, thinking its just toooo good that you finally broke what they saw as obvious sexual tension. Flustered and beet red, you dart your head around, worried someone else heard these accusations. But then again, after a second you thought your friends were just fucking with you. They had long since decided that the running joke would be you and Jean ever getting together, so you started to relax and felt the blood leave your flushed cheeks as you waited for them to get to the punchline.

Except there wasn’t one.

Well, not for you, anyway. 

Your friends watched the look on your face settle and in turn their eyes widened. Wait, so it’s true? they ask, taking your trust in their comedic timing as a proud guilty plea. “What, no,” you say, “of course not! You guys are just fucking around right? Thats hilarious, me fucking somebody out in the open, let alone him.” You laugh through your sentence and your friends' faces grow apprehensive. uhh, no, we actually heard that from Jean...

“What. what do you mean”

They eyed each other then looked back to you.

“What do you mean Jean told you that”

I mean...  he’s been bragging to everyone about it.

Your head whips back around to the little fuck across the quad that is now starting to walk towards you, raking four lanky fingers through his hair. Goddamn it. holy fuck you hate him. He’s so so just........

What’s a matter?? ask him yourself! They all laughed and started to gather their things, a gesture that on the surface was polite but really they just wanted to watch you confront him with no out. 

As he strode up to the blanket you’d been sunbathing on all afternoon, you finally allowed him the satisfaction of a glance, trying desperately to telepathically tell him that you know his little game and he won’t get his way with you.  You wont get bothered, in fact he can say whatever he likes. You are not stupid enough to be so smitten by an idiot. But, when he dropped down to eye level with you, meeting your glare with a cutting pull at the corner of his mouth, the realization that none of those thoughts had actually reached him hits you.

You roll your eyes, an expected next step in your litany of attempted communication with the enemy, and as you started to get, Jean grabs your forearm with a big hand.

“What, now you’re embarrassed to be here with me? From what I hear it should take a lot more than some spectators to pry you away from me.”

He breaks into a full grin and chuckles to himself, so so pleased with his little joke. 

“Fuck right off, Jean, it’s so embarrassing for you that you’re trying to tell people that.” His face softens a bit but the bite is still there, “Anyway, I would never even dream of fucking you, let alone with potential witnesses.” You yank your arm out of his grasp and stand up, gathering your bag and laptop in a swift motion. Turning, you bend down to grab a fistful of the blanket he’s still pinning down, “Get off my fucking blanket, asshole” you hiss. He chuckles and obliges, standing up and cocking his head to the side, “oh, you’re angrier than I thought you’d be. Well, remember, the number one rule to not getting caught is never return to the scene of the crime, but unfortunately for us,” he looks around and spreads his arms in a sweeping gesture, “we’ve just incriminated ourselves and our actions last saturday.” His grin creeps back full-force as he drops his arms back to his sides. You can only scoff and turn away, making your way back home to the dorms. God, you hate him, you think to yourself. You also hate that his voice is stuck in your head now, and you’re kicking yourself for lingering a little too long on the thought that actually, this is the first time you’ve had a conversation with him.

Over the next week or so the rumors still swirled, but since he had been such a predictable prick to you that day in the quad, you decide to fight fire with fire. Protesting and denying will only make things worse, you reason. Jean was such a manwhore that it was universally and absolutely less likely that he hadn’t slept with someone than that he had, so denying this would be working against the current. No, you think to yourself, I’ll use some leverage. 

Which is how you had decided to start telling anyone who would lend an ear that yes, in fact, you had fucked Jean. And he was terrible. My god, he was the worst fuck you’d had in your life. Was it small they’d ask? And not one to give into the cheap shot, you would assure them that no, it was worse than that. It was long enough, but skinny, and he had no idea how to use it. He fucked like the only porn he watches is women taping hairbrushes to broken washing machines, you told them.

Finally feeling like you had gotten the one up on this little fuck, you spent the next few days happily applying all of the worst hook-up stories you or your friends had to Mr. Kirstein, relishing even more that the risk of vulnerability you had taken was paying off. 

Finishing up a group project in class the next day, you start to pack your things as you put the final details on a new tidbit of Jean’s apparent failings for your group partners.

"Oh yeah," you said, "he was biting at my leg for 10 minutes, apparently he thought I was telling him to stop and move because i was cumming. That motherfucker couldn’t find a clit if it took him by the hand."

Laughing to themselves, your group partners shuffled out with the rest of the class. You had stayed back for a minute to finish an email to the TA, and as you look up to shut your laptop, you see a large, lanky hand shutting it for you.

“So, this is the game we’re playing?” a voice questions from above.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve just been hearing rumors,” You say in a coy taunt. “Anyway, I need to go, so if you’d please unhand my things I’d really appreciate it.”

“Oh, c’mon, you’re in on it now, let’s workshop some stories together,” Jean says through a shit-eating grin as he replaces your computer with his ass on your desk, “I think we would make a better team than you seem to suggest.”

“Hmm..” you muse, pantomiming deep thought, then turning to him with a glare “Thanks, this actually has given me some ideas. I think i’ll start telling them that you begged like a dog for it. Yeah, I think thats the cherry on top. I can hear the gossip now, ‘Jean Kirstein begs to disappoint.’ Oh yeah, I think thats great.’ You chuckle to yourself as you go to zip your backpack when you feel his hand grab your shoulder.

“Do you really think I’d beg?”

It catches you off guard. the motion, the tone, everything about what Jean just did was loaded. Was this a trick to get you to look like the beggar? Was he actually mad? No, you thought, this felt.....

no, you shook the thought. It didn't matter if it was genuine. It didn't matter if he really wanted to beg you, here and now, to let him fuck you. He was awful, you knew that. You could never forgive yourself for succumbing to him. So you wouldn’t.

“Yeah, actually. I think you’re such a pathetic shell of a man that you would beg. And why wouldn’t I think that? You beg for every scrap of attention anyone gives you.”

He pushes you back, squaring your shoulders off to him as he situates himself on the desk sitting directly in front of you. Your shoulders between his knees, he leans forward and rests his forearms on his thighs, long fingers dangling loosely and grazing your chest.

“I do? You think I beg?’ he asks softly.

Fuck. You sat as still as you could, focusing on steadying your breath and not showing the flush that had just swelled through your cheeks. Staring straight ahead into his abdomen to avoid eye contact, you feel fingertips gently but firmly pushing your forehead back, forcing you to look up at him. Fuck, he’s not letting me hide you think. Goddamnit, this was hot.

But you can’t give up the game. You can’t let him think he’s won.

“God, you fuckin perv. Of course you have to beg. Who would fuck you of their own accord?”

His fingertips fall back down between his knees. He hums then sucks his teeth, “Oh c’mon baby, dont be so mean-”

“Baby?? who the fuck are you calling baby you pretentious little fuck?” you bark at him. The rage you felt towards him had suddenly reappeared in you kind, clearing the fog that his soft touch had created. “Goddamn, I literally can’t even believe you’re trying this right now. Do you really think this is a tease game or something? God, you’re not only horrible in theory, you’re pathetic in person, And that's fucking worse.”

You bite your tongue at that last word. Damn, you really hated him but you didn’t want to stoop to his level and just be fuckin’ mean. The way his face was draining of color made you think you took it too far, and your posture softened, bracing to apologize-

“Say it again”

what? you're speechless for a beat.

“What?”

His pupils start to dilate just enough to notice, and his breath is a little shakey when he asks, “Call me pathetic again, y/n, and maybe i will beg you for it, is that what you want?”

You aren’t sure if he's teasing or begging, but that confusion is allowing the wall that you had pent up any and all desire for him behind to come crashing down. God, he’s terrible, but... You decide to play along like he’s begging, refusing to give him the win of being in control here. Well, thats what you tell yourself, you're honestly so confused about the dynamics in play that your head is spinning. Which is how you got into this situation anyway.

“Yeah, beg for it you pathetic, disgusting fuck. Look at you, panting and pale just from the thought that maybe you’ll cop a feel.”

Something in your mind flips again and all of the rage and annoyances from the last three years flood back to your brain. You hated him. You hated him so so much. He was so mean to you and so obnoxious and everybody loved him and you didn’t get it. And now, you're face to face with your enemy, hurling insults like a firing squad and he's just... taking it.

“y/n, do you really hate me?”

“Yes”

“Fuck” he groans, leaning back on his hands. Now that he wasn’t hunched over, you get a better view of the raging hard on barely contained under his sweats. “You really think about me that much, baby? Enough to hate me?” He stares at the ceiling in deep thought for a moment, then leans back in. “Well I guess that means I was doing something right.” He comes closer to your face and traces your jaw with his thumb, pushing your head slightly to the side. Feeling his hot breath on your ear he whispers, “I guess I will have to beg then, since you hate me so much. Will you let me do that, y/n, will you let me beg?”

Your face is hot and tingling from his touch. It would be so easy to just get up and leave him bothered and embarrassed, and isn’t that what you wanted? It was, you mused, but right now? In this moment, all you want is for him to beg you to let him fuck your brains out. You hate yourself for it, too, are you really that horny that even Jean is making the cut? Or, more horrifyingly, is he actually turning you on? Your internal struggle is cut short by the soft feeling of his teeth grazing your earlobe, and with that your fate is sealed.

“Yes, yes you can beg me for it, Jean” You utter.

With those words, his thumb falls from your jaw down your throat, his fingers following suit and delicately draping themselves on the other side of your neck. He takes a sharp breath, "Please y/n, can i kiss you right here? Please let me, y/n I can barely stand it"

Shuddering and resenting the goosebumps that have trailed his touch, you nod, stifling a whimper. You know that the second you vocalize a response, your lust will be betrayed and he'll know he's won. So you sit there stoically as he runs his lips down your neck, taking in your scent and groaning to himself before he steadies the gentle grip on your neck and lands a soft kiss just below your ear. He continues these little flutters, just the soft touch of his lips and tongue, all the way to your collarbone, where he realizes he's reached the boundary of his request. He drags his lips back up to your ear, and between kisses begs again.

"Please, can I please use my hands y/n? I gotta know if you feel as good as i think, i'm begging you."

The begging is driving you crazy. He looks up at you with half lidded eyes that plead even more desperately than his words.

"Where do you want to use your hands, Jean? Surely you don't think you've begged enough to get anywhere near my cunt, right?" you sneer down at him, putting on your best front and trying to sell that you aren't also aching for him at this point.

He gives you a pathetic look, almost like he's about to cry, and starts to kiss your neck again. "i just need to feel your tits, y/n, i need to taste them, ple-"

you grab a fistful of his hair and make him face you. "Oh, taste? you need to need to be more specific about your requests Jean, you only asked me to use your hands. Why do you deserve to use your mouth anymore, asshole?" The pounding heat growing between your legs is giving you newfound confidence in your harsh words. Fuck, this is so hot, he is so, so hot groveling for you. Was this really the payback for years of torment? No, he's clearly getting off on this too. You saw his dick twitch under the sweats when you grabbed his hair. No this isn't payback this is... this is some sort of sick hatefuck. At least for you. Probably.

"Fuck, baby you're right i don't. I won't push my luck again y/n I can't risk it. Can i just touch them, please?" He whimpers. Releasing the grip on his hair you say yes, and with that he moves from the desk he's been sitting on down to his knees. He pulls you the the edge of your seat by your waist with strong arms. Slipping his hands underneath your shirt you feel that the trail of goosebumps continues to follow his touch down your back then up your stomach. He stops kissing the crook of your neck and lets his breath collect where his lips once were as he unhooks the fasten of your bra, letting it fall slack gently and pulling his hands back to your now exposed chest.

He runs his thumbs over your painfully hard nipples with a look of ecstasy on his face. You can feel that you’ve already soaked through your underwear and he’s barely touched you, Fool, you scolded yourself. I'm a fool for him right now. Your hands instinctively run up his arms, then neck, then through his hair, anchoring themselves there as you pull him closer. “Please” he whimpers, “Please can i kiss them”

“Ye- yes” You breath out, lifting your arms for him as he guides your shirt over your head. With one in his hand and the other in his mouth, he takes your nipple in his teeth and sucks. He circles the other with his thumb, keeping it just as hard as the one he’s moaning into. You cradle his head close to your body, lost in the warm bliss you had been denying yourself all these years. 

“Fuck, baby, they’re so much better than I even imagined” he switches his hand and mouth

“oh, so you’ve imagined this, Jean?”

“mhm” he mumbles into a facefull of tit. He comes up for air, “Fuck, I have imagined taking you every way possible. I need to, baby, please. You’re the only one who makes me beg for you. For your attention, your time, your body. Fuck baby please let me, please.” He’s whining now, looking up at you with pleading eyes and running his hands all down your sides and up your back. That last ‘please’ makes your eyes roll back into your head as your knees spread involuntarily. But you couldn’t give up just yet.

“what exactly are you begging for Jean? You need to- to use your words” You choke out, stifling a moan from his big hands coming back up to your tits like they belonged there.

“Your pussy, baby, fuck I can see how soaked you are through your clothes. I need to play with it, to taste it, worship it, fill it. Fuck y/n please” He really looks like he might cry if you deny him, and the ache in your cunt is driving you to grind your hips against your chair. “please, baby, can I lick it for you? I know you wanna cum, I wanna make you cum baby. Can I please?”

All you can do is nod

He kisses down from your sternum to your stomach and finally the waistband of your pants. “I need you to stand up for me baby. I’m sorry to even ask more of you, but I just need you to help me so I can make you feel good.” He lifts your hips up like he’s helping you to your feet, and once upright he starts fingering the button of your jeans. As he undoes it and pulls down the zipper, a little whimper leaves your lips and draws a breathy chuckle out of him. Fuck, if this is a game, he’s winning you think. Shit.

But you can’t know how close to heaven this is for Jean. God, the thrill of a three year chase, culminating in this. You’re so perfect, so soft to the touch, and so mean when you want to be. He just wanted to prove to you that those things you said about him being a bad fuck weren’t true. He needed you to know that no one could make you feel like he could. And how could they? No one else has been able to keep your attention for as long as he has. He didn’t know why you still let him get a rise out of you, but he was constantly chasing that little rush he got whenever you would spare him a cutting look, eyes like daggers tracing down his skin. You were tantalizing, and you made it so much worse by never playing along. He had to earn your cooperation in his game. And he intended to do just that, fuck, he needed to.

He looks right in front of him to your now naked pussy, having taken off your soaked-through panties with your jeans. Big hands on your ass, he tilts his head up to you, “Thank you, baby, you’re too good to me. Please sit down now y/n, let me make you cum.”

You oblige, knees spread while you lean back into the chair, letting your dripping cunt hang from the edge, ready for Jean’s touch. With one hand on your inner thigh and the other gripping your waist he brought his mouth to your pussy, licking up and down, sprinkling kisses in between to keep you on edge. Dragging his tongue from your ass to your clit, he starts to suck on it and elicits a sharp whine out of you. Already starting to get close, you gasp again when you feel two long, rough fingers tease your hole. 

“Can I please feel it, y/n?” He mutters, basically inaudible because he’s kind of just asking your cunt. 

“Fuck, yes, Jean, just put them in. You taunt me enough anyway, you don’t need to be such a tease,” you huff, rolling your eyes in mock annoyance, a last ditch effort to convince him you need him to beg.

With that, He looks up at you with an evil glint in his eye and buries his fingers in your pussy, curling them up once he’s as deep as he can get to find the spot that will make you yelp. Hearing that he found it, he starts finger fucking you, stroking that little spot every few thrusts. God, he’s gonna make me cum, you think to yourself. But you don’t wanna just cum on his fingers. You wanna cum on his cock. You need to have it in you, especially if it’s anything like you’ve been imagining since you saw the dick print earlier. 

“Please cum for me, y/n, im begging you. I really need to feel you cum on my fingers, fuck.” He pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in.

“Fuck, you’re so so tight."

Out and back in.

“I just need you to cum for me please.”

Out and back in.

“Could you do that? Because I need to fuck you and I need to get you ready for my cock.” He’s whining his pleads over the lewd sound of your wet cunt, and as he’s begging to bury his dick in you he pushes you over the edge. Feeling that you’ve given in to his request as your walls push his fingers out, he stands over you and lifts you up by the waist.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s so good and i haven’t even put my dick in yet,” he moans into your ear. “Can I, please? I know I can make you feel even better than you do right now if I can use it. Can I use my cock, y/k?”

“Yes, yes Jean fuck you can use your cock. You can use it however you want” you say, panting. With that, he leans down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself and also letting you realize you haven’t actually kissed him yet. He guides you to the wall, pinning your back against it with his hips and pressing his forearm next to your head. Greedy kisses travel from your mouth and down your neck, interrupted only for him to mutter, “Y/n? can you please pull it out? I wanna feel you hold it.”

“Mhm,” you nod shakily, still recovering from the orgasm. You trace your fingers down his toned stomach to his waistband. Hooking a finger underneath, you pull the elastic out and down, grazing his hard cock as you guide the sweats down his hips. holy shit, he’s big, you realize as you take it in your hand, squeezing a little. 

“Fuck, y/n” he pushed his hips back into you. “Fuck can i put it in?”

“Mhm” you squeak.

He takes his dick out of your hand and into his, guiding it along your soaked pussy before he lines up the tip with your still throbbing hole. Holding it there, he hooks his other arm under your knee, lifting your leg and giving him unobstructed access to the cunt that he's been drunk on the thought of since he sat down on your desk.

You gasp when he pushes in, only the tip at first but, fuck, its enough to make you scream. 

“please, Jean, please all the way” 

“Shh,” he coos from the crook of your neck, “Pussy’s so good and tight, I gotta work my way in.” He says, rolling his hips into you one, two, three, more times until finally you feel his full length. Your hands tangled in his hair, all you can think about is how fucking good he’s stretching you out with his fat cock. Just like he did with his fingers, he pulls his dick all the way out of you before rewarding your soaked hole with a hard thrust back in. Over and over and over. You start to grind your hips into his, greedy for more as you let him wash over your senses.

“Please jean, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum again” you cry.

“Oh, now you’re the one begging, huh?” he’s fucking you like he’s made for you, every thrust more intoxicating than the last as he holds you up against the wall. You’re basically a ragdoll at this point, putty in his hands and he knows it, but he’s just so, so high off your fucked out face, blubbering his name while he strokes your starving pussy.

God, you’re even better than he ever imagined. He could keep this up for hours, a constant back and forth of his begging for you and your begging for him. He keeps his dick deep inside and flexes it, resting his face back in the crook of your neck and feeling you shiver at that little move. 

“God, I could fuck this pussy all day, y/n. Did you know how good you feel? You knew what you were keeping from me, huh? Goddamn” His tone isn’t begging anymore, you notice. It’s dominant and in control, but still just as infatuated with you. Which is just as well, because you don’t have the sense anymore to keep up the facade of needing him to beg. God, all you wanted was for him to use you like this for hours. You had already won, he had to beg to get here. You were just fine to surrender now, and fuck did surrender feel good.

“I want you to fuck me however you want, Jean,” you barely string the sentence together. At that, the evil little glint returns. He lifts you off his cock and bends you over a desk. Expecting his dick again you gasp when its his tongue, stroking the length of your cunt then fucking it. His fingers find your finally-recovered clit and coax another orgasm out of you. Hearing your desperate panting, he grabs your hips and shoves himself back inside.

"I know, baby, it hits all the right places huh?" he groans, "Fuck" He propped his knee on the desk you were sprawled over for better leverage, getting deeper than you thought anyone could. You feel a bite behind your ear and hear him pant through another sting of profanities. He's definitely getting close- his hips start to go crazy thrusting into you wild wild abandon. "oh fuck, jean please, please cum right there!" you beg as he rams into you over and over.

His pace slows as his words start to regain a hint of whine. "yeah?" he says "you gonna let me fill you up, y/n? i fucked you good enough that you'll let me do that?"

"y-yes, ill let you, Jean, you can fill me, you e-earned it" His dick was taking such soft strokes in and out of your sensitive pussy, and you feel him flex inside you again. "ah, fuck, jean-" you couldn't even finish your exclamation as two fingers suddenly found their way into your mouth while you felt your cunt get filled.

"you like getting two holes full? hmm? maybe next time ill fill all three for you" He slides out of your stretched hole and pulls you back to sit on his lap. Looking up at him, feeling his cum leak out of you, you can't believe you ever denied yourself this. But, you were glad that you made the man who was giving you a stupid, pussy drunk smirk beg for it.

[stxrshxpxd]

professor (part 4) || 90s damon

check my masterlist for the other parts :))

pairing: 90s professor damon albarn x student reader

word count: 973

warnings: smut (professor x adult student)

prompt: damon and reader are on an autumn morning café date, but they can't keep their hands off each other for long

requested by anons! xx

* * *

Damon and I sat opposite each other next to a large window that allowed the gloomy daylight inside. A lit candle, Damon’s and my respective coffee cups, and his left hand were all placed on the small square table between us. When ordering I had gotten a craving for hot chocolate, but I figured that would only further solidify the age gap between us, and so I had settled for a black coffee. 

My heart was fully occupied with the urge to reach out and hold Damon’s hand but my mind wouldn’t let me. It felt wrong still. It felt wrong on a different level, holding his warm hand in a café as opposed to being bent over his desk in his lecture room.

I looked outside and studied the low clouds that promised further rain, the puddles on the pavement from this morning, and the few red leaves that had already fallen and now calmly swam in those puddles. It was early October and early morning but late in the week.

“I truly loved your essay on Stephen King,” Damon said in a calm but enthusiastic voice, reinforcing the grade he had given my latest essay in his class. A grimace came to paint my face.

“What?” Damon laughed softly, looking ever so pretty showing off his toothy smile.

“This feels like a tutoring session or something. Or like a meeting about my final grade.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled and let his head hang low for a moment, smiling down into his cup. A strand from his fringe fell to meet his right eyebrow and his ring finger and thumb rubbed together in an act of what I guessed was nerves. I gave into my heart’s urges and grabbed his hand.

Damon looked up instantly and in the same moment he responded by squeezing my hand and smiling again.

“Is this weird for you?” he asked.

I looked out across the room at the few people scattered all around the café. I thought for a moment.

“It’s…” I looked back at Damon. “...New.”

“Meaning?”

I stayed silent but Damon shortly filled in the blank for me.

“Weird?” he suggested with a laugh and I chuckled too.

“Weird.” I waited a beat. ”But it’s good! It really is… Like, I have butterflies. I would say that’s good.”

Damon’s cheeks heated up and his smile grew. He agreed and we laughed even more. He pushed his glasses up to the root of his nose with his free hand in the midst of the comfortable quiet, before I spoke again.

“But.. I think I will miss the secret sex after class on your desk,” I admitted in a hushed tone. The calm music from the speakers was only so loud.

“We can still do that,” Damon replied and cemented an intense eye contact with me. “We can also…” He moved over smoothly to my side of the booth and squeezed in next to me. “...do similar things.”

He had let go of my hand but his was now on my upper thigh, establishing a firm grip of it. A rush of something ran through my body immediately. Damon’s expression was smug and he had a small smirk on his lips, but he made sure that I was on the same page before he advanced.

“Okay,” I breathed and shifted anxiously in my seat. To think I had been nervous to hold his hand just minutes ago.

He inched his hand closer to my now dampening underwear.

“Yeah?” he whispered as quietly as I had ever heard him whisper, just as he drew a slow circle around my clit.

“Yeah,” I answered even quieter and swallowed. My gaze flickered from person to person where they sat a few tables down. Damon reached for my chin and turned my head back to fully face him.

“Hey…” he whispered. “...Look at me. Only me.”

“Yes, sir,” I whimpered because now his middle and ring finger had picked up the pace. With his hand still holding my chin we shared a slow and wet kiss, both our eyes still half open and fully present with the eye contact. When we pulled away a content smirk sat on his lips. My breathing had begun to pick up and I squirmed under his talented fingers.

Damon pushed my pants to the side and dug his fingers into my wetness. He was the first to break eye contact when he reacted by melting his face into my neck and muttering in his beautiful deep voice: “God, you’re so wet for me.”

He breathed heavily into my hair and I bit the inside of my lip to keep from moaning. His fingers were working wonders on me and I was getting closer to my high. I didn’t know what to do with the hand that wasn’t desperately tugging on my skirt to try and make it longer, so I reached for the hem of Damon’s sweater and tugged on that too.

He could tell I was close.

“Go on, darling,” he mumbled into my neck, and the way the pet name poured into my ear so sweetly sent me over the edge instantly. I squeezed my eyes shut and curled my toes inside my boots, holding my breath and nearly puncturing the inside of my mouth with my teeth.

A few open mouth kisses were sucked into my neck before I saw his face again. He was still smirking and he sucked his fingers clean quickly. I was trying to catch my breath and my gaze once again scanned the room. No one seemed to have noticed.

“D’you wanna go to the bathroom and deal with this?” Damon asked, bringing my attention back to him, and he nodded down at the semi in his jeans. A new rush of tingles ran through me.

[uomo-accattivante]

Excellent article about bringing a re-make of Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage to fruition, and the twenty-year friendship that Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain share:

There were days on the shoot for “Scenes From a Marriage,” a five-episode limited series that premieres Sept. 12 on HBO, when Oscar Isaac resented the crew.

The problem wasn’t the crew members themselves, he told me on a video call in March. But the work required of him and his co-star, Jessica Chastain, was so unsparingly intimate — “And difficult!” Chastain added from a neighboring Zoom window — that every time a camera operator or a makeup artist appeared, it felt like an intrusion.

On his other projects, Isaac had felt comfortably distant from the characters and their circumstances — interplanetary intrigue, rogue A.I. But “Scenes” surveys monogamy and parenthood, familiar territory. Sometimes Isaac would film a bedtime scene with his onscreen child (Lily Jane) and then go home and tuck his own child into the same model of bed as the one used onset, accessorized with the same bunny lamp, and not know exactly where art ended and life began.

“It was just a lot,” he said.

Chastain agreed, though she put it more strongly. “I mean, I cried every day for four months,” she said.

Isaac, 42, and Chastain, 44, have known each other since their days at the Juilliard School. And they have channeled two decades of friendship, admiration and a shared and obsessional devotion to craft into what Michael Ellenberg, one of the series’s executive producers, called “five hours of naked, raw performance.” (That nudity is metaphorical, mostly.)

“For me it definitely felt incredibly personal,” Chastain said on the call in the spring, about a month after filming had ended. “That’s why I don’t know if I have another one like this in me. Yeah, I can’t decide that. I can’t even talk about it without. …” She turned away from the screen. (It was one of several times during the call that I felt as if I were intruding, too.)

The original “Scenes From a Marriage,” created by Ingmar Bergman, debuted on Swedish television in 1973. Bergman’s first television series, its six episodes trace the dissolution of a middle-class marriage. Starring Liv Ullmann, Bergman’s ex, it drew on his own past relationships, though not always directly.

“When it comes to Bergman, the relationship between autobiography and fiction is extremely complicated,” said Jan Holmberg, the chief executive of the Ingmar Bergman Foundation.

A sensation in Sweden, it was seen by most of the adult population. And yes, sure, correlation does not imply causation, but after its debut, Swedish divorce were rumored to have doubled. Holmberg remembers watching a rerun as a 10-year-old.

“It was a rude awakening to adult life,” he said.

The writer and director Hagai Levi saw it as a teenager, on Israeli public television, during a stint on a kibbutz. “I was shocked,” he said. The series taught him that a television series could be radical, that it could be art. When he created “BeTipul,” the Israeli precursor to “In Treatment,” he used “Scenes” as proof of the concept “that two people can talk for an hour and it can work,” Levi said. (Strangely, “Scenes” also inspired the prime-time soap “Dallas.”)

So when Daniel Bergman, Ingmar Bergman’s youngest son, approached Levi about a remake, he was immediately interested.

But the project languished, in part because loving a show isn’t reason enough to adapt it. Divorce is common now — in Sweden, and elsewhere — and the relationship politics of the original series, in which the male character deserts his wife and young children for an academic post, haven’t aged particularly well.

Then about two years ago, Levi had a revelation. He would swap the gender roles. A woman who leaves her marriage and child in pursuit of freedom (with a very hot Israeli entrepreneur in place of a visiting professorship) might still provoke conversation and interest.

So the Marianne and Johan of the original became Mira and Jonathan, with a Boston suburb (re-created in a warehouse just north of New York City), stepping in for the Stockholm of the original. Jonathan remains an academic though Mira, a lawyer in the original, is now a businesswoman who out-earns him.

Casting began in early 2020. After Isaac met with Levi, he wrote to Chastain to tell her about the project. She wasn’t available. The producers cast Michelle Williams. But the pandemic reshuffled everyone’s schedules. When production was ready to resume, Williams was no longer free. Chastain was. “That was for me the most amazing miracle,” Levi said.

Isaac and Chastain met in the early 2000s at Juilliard. He was in his first year; she, in her third. He first saw her in a scene from a classical tragedy, slapping men in the face as Helen of Troy. He was friendly with her then-boyfriend, and they soon became friends themselves, bonding through the shared trauma of an acting curriculum designed to break its students down and then build them back up again. Isaac remembered her as “a real force of nature and solid, completely solid, with an incredible amount of integrity,” he said.

In the next window, Chastain blushed. “He was super talented,” she said. “But talented in a way that wasn’t expected, that’s challenging and pushing against constructs and ideas.” She introduced him to her manager, and they celebrated each other’s early successes and went to each other’s premieres. (A few of those photos are used in “Scenes From a Marriage” as set dressing.)

In 2013, Chastain was cast in J.C. Chandor’s “A Most Violent Year,”opposite Javier Bardem. When Bardem dropped out, Chastain campaigned for Isaac to have the role. Weeks before shooting, they began to meet, fleshing out the back story of their characters — a husband and wife trying to corner the heating oil market in 1981 New York — the details of the marriage, business, life.

It was their first time working together, and each felt a bond that went deeper than a parallel education and approach. “Something connects us that’s stronger than any ideas of character or story or any of that,” Isaac said. “There’s something else that’s more about like, a shared existence.”

Chandor noticed how they would support each other on set, and challenge each other, too, giving each other the freedom to take the characters’ relationship to dark and dangerous places. “They have this innate trust with each other,” Chandor said.

That trust eliminated the need for actorly tricks or shortcuts, in part because they know each other’s tricks too well. Their motto, Isaac said, was, “Let’s figure this [expletive] out together and see what’s the most honest thing we can do.”

Moni Yakim, Juilliard’s celebrated movement instructor, has followed their careers closely and he noted what he called the “magnetism and spiritual connection” that they suggested onscreen in the film.

“It’s a kind of chemistry,” Yakim said. “They can read each other’s mind and you as an audience, you can sense it.”

Telepathy takes work. When they knew that shooting “Scenes From a Marriage” could begin, Chastain bought a copy of “All About Us,” a guided journal for couples, and filled in her sections in character as Mira. Isaac brought it home and showed it to his wife, the filmmaker Elvira Lind.

“She was like, ‘You finally found your match,’” Isaac recalled. “’Someone that is as big of a nerd as you are.’”

The actors rehearsed, with Levi and on their own, talking their way through each long scene, helping each other through the anguished parts. When production had to halt for two weeks, they rehearsed then, too.

Watching these actors work reminded Amy Herzog, a writer and executive producer on the series, of race horses in full gallop. “These are two people who have so much training and skill,” she said. “Because it’s an athletic feat, what they were being asked to do.”

But training and skill and the “All About Us” book hadn’t really prepared them for the emotional impact of actually shooting “Scenes From a Marriage.” Both actors normally compartmentalize when they work, putting up psychic partitions between their roles and themselves. But this time, the partitions weren’t up to code.

“I knew I was in trouble the very first week,” Chastain said.

She couldn’t hide how the scripts affected her, especially from someone who knows her as well as Isaac does. “I just felt so exposed,” she said. “This to me, more than anything I’ve ever worked on, was definitely the most open I’ve ever been.”

“It felt so dangerous,” she said.

I visited the set in February (after multiple Covid-19 tests and health screenings) during a final day of filming. It was the quietest set I had ever seen: The atmosphere was subdued, reverent almost, a crew and a studio space stripped down to only what two actors would need to do the most passionate and demanding work of their careers.

Isaac didn’t know if he would watch the completed series. “It really is the first time ever, where I’ve done something where I’m totally fine never seeing this thing,” he said. “Because I’ve really lived through it. And in some ways I don’t want whatever they decide to put together to change my experience of it, which was just so intense.”

The cameras captured that intensity. Though Chastain isn’t Mira and Isaac isn’t Jonathan, each drew on personal experience — their parents’ marriages, past relationships — in ways they never had. Sometimes work on the show felt like acting, and sometimes the work wasn’t even conscious. There’s a scene in the harrowing fourth episode in which they both lie crumpled on the floor, an identical stress vein bulging in each forehead.

“It’s my go-to move, the throbbing forehead vein,” Isaac said on a follow-up video call last month. Chastain riffed on the joke: “That was our third year at Juilliard, the throb.”

By then, it had been five months since the shoot wrapped. Life had returned to something like normal. Jokes were possible again. Both of them seemed looser, more relaxed. (Isaac had already poured himself one tequila shot and was ready for another.) No one cried.

Chastain had watched the show with her husband. And Isaac, despite his initial reluctance, had watched it, too. It didn’t seem to have changed his experience.

“I’ve never done anything like it,” he said. “And I can’t imagine doing anything like it again.”

###

[robininthelabyrinth]

Hi! This is for the prompts: LWJ and WWX get together at Cloud Recesses but it’s a secret. When it does come out tho, probably due to WWX mischief some how. JC comes to the conclusion that LWJ has managed to ‘defile WWXs honor’ and now JC has no choice but to fight on behalf of his big brother, who clearly has been wronged.

Honor, Defended - ao3

Untamed

1

“What are they doing,” Jiang Cheng said, voice strangled, eyes staring.

Nie Huaisang stood up on his toes and squinted over his new friend’s shoulder. “Fighting?”

It looked like fighting.

“No.”

Not fighting? In that case, at least by Nie sect standards, that meant –

“Flirting?”

Jiang Cheng growled, which meant Nie Huaisang’s guess was right. “I’m going to kill the rotten bastard in white! I bet he waited until Wei Wuxian was alone just for this. How dare he take advantage of my – of Wei Wuxian!”

“I mean, I don’t know about that? They seem about tied,” Nie Huaisang said, making a mental note – not that many people could match up against Lan Wangji, especially when he was in a you-are-breaking-the-rules sort of snit. “Each one’s giving as good as the other gets, if you know what I mean…I’m talking about fighting!” He added hastily, seeing Jiang Cheng’s expression. “Just the fighting! And hey, maybe the Lan sect doesn’t flirt through fighting?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng said. “All cultivation sects flirt through fighting.”

Damnit, Nie Huaisang thought to himself with a sigh. That means I’m going to have to train with saber after all if I’m going to get somewhere here, doesn’t it? Well, at least da-ge will be pleased…

“Are you going to interrupt?” he asked, hiding his face behind his fan. “If fighting is flirting…”

As expected, Jiang Cheng choked. “Not all fighting is flirting!” he hissed. “But that most certainly is!”

Nie Huaisang didn’t understand fighting, so he just shrugged.

“Why don’t you confront him later?” he suggested, but Jiang Cheng shook his head, his features already settling into a mulish expression that had no right to look as attractive as it was. “All right, I see I can’t convince you. Good luck defending your brother’s honor, then?”

-

2

“If Lan Wangji doesn’t stop flirting with Wei Wuxian in class, I’m going to do something violent,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Okay, now I know you’re delusional,” Nie Huaisang said. “But still very pretty. Oh, I’m torn…actually no, I think I’m fine. I mean, what cultivator do I know that isn’t a bit delusional?”

“Can you stop talking nonsense and focus on how we’re going to split them up?” Jiang Cheng demanded irritably. Really, it was no wonder that Nie Huaisang’s best attempts at flirting were going nowhere. Jiang Cheng was thick.

In many appealing ways. Mm.

Damn his bad taste.

“Well, I think first you have to start by reversing your statement until it resembles the truth a bit more,” Nie Huaisang said, trying to be practical. “It’s Wei-xiong that’s flirting with Lan-er-gongzi, not the other way around.”

“He’s just like that!”

“A giant flirt, you mean?”

“Sociable,” Jiang Cheng insisted with the sort of blindly loyal stubbornness that was sadly very, very appealing to those surnamed Nie. Mouthwatering, even.

“Right,” Nie Huaisang said, dabbing at his mouth with his sleeve to make sure he wasn’t drooling. “I see. All right, I’ll help you. I’ll even promise to find a way to break them up for good, guaranteed – but first you have to meet one condition.”

Jiang Cheng arched his eyebrows, looking unwillingly intrigued. “Name it.”

“You have to come up with one way in which Lan-er-gongzi has been flirting with Wei Wuxian that isn’t ‘he existed being pretty in his general direction’.”

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth.

Nie Huaisang waited.

“…maybe he should consider being less pretty,” Jiang Cheng grumbled.

Nie Huaisang patted him on the shoulder, then left his hand on his shoulder because why not.

“We’ve all thought that about him over the years,” he said. “Better luck next time.”

3

“You’re supposed to be helping me preserve my brother’s honor!” Jiang Cheng hissed at Nie Huaisang, who had made absolutely no promises of that sort without giant loopholes that he could walk right out of. “Not – encouragingthis!”

“I didn’t! I just helped Wei-gongzi play a tiny little prank –”

“With pornography!”

“Tasteful erotic art,” Nie Huaisang corrected.

“With cutsleeve pornography!”

“Cutsleeve tasteful erotic art.”

“Nie Huaisang! You’re missing the point!”

“Am I?” Nie Huaisang asked thoughtfully, tapping his fan against his lips. “I don’t know, I’m not sure I am. Can you explain what the point is again?”

Jiang Cheng threw his hands up into the air. “Listen, it was bad enough when Wei Wuxian got thrown out of Teacher Lan’s classes and had to go copy rules in the Library Pavilion for a month; that’s disgraceful and loses face for our sect, but at least his personal honor was preserved –”

Bad scholarship was, in fact, not an impediment to having personal honor. Nie Huaisang knew this fact forwards, backwards, and intimately.

“But then Teacher Lan fell for Lan Wangji’s tricks and decided to assign him to supervise copying –”

“Lan-er-gongzi has tricks? That’s news to me.”

“…well, either way, they got cooped up there in that room, together, alone, for – for weeks!”

“Hasn’t Lan-er-gongzi been using the muting spell on Wei-xiong most of that time?”

“No, eventually Wei Wuxian learned his lesson and now he shuts himself up whenever he sees him starting up the spell, he complains to me and shijie about it constantly every night,” Jiang Cheng said, grumbling. “Stop interrupting me!”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Anyway, if that wasn’t enough, you’re now encouragingthis debacle by setting up a prank that involves Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and cutsleeve pornography.”

“I did,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “And it’s tasteful erotic art, Jiang-xiong.”

“Why do you keep insisting on that?” Jiang Cheng snapped. “Isn’t it the same thing?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said patiently. “Because I also have pornography, and it’s a lot less tasteful.”

Jiang Cheng stopped, utterly distracted from his previous rant. “...you do?”

“Mm. Want to see?”

-

4

“Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, wait for me, I want to talk to you – I need you! See, for whatever reason, I can’t find Jiang Cheng anywhere. Can you help me look –”

Nie Huaisang shut his window before Jiang Cheng could overhear and get distracted.

They were busy.

-

5

“All right,” Nie Huaisang said. “I admit it, you’re right.”

Jiang Cheng looked at him. “…you do?”

“I do.”

“Right about…what?”

“About the flirting, and Lan Wangji having tricks,” Nie Huaisang said, nodding wisely. “See, the Lan sect take their rules about their forehead ribbons very seriously. It’s parents, children, and lovers only. So if you ran into Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji entangled on the path near the back mountain, both of them soaking wet, with Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon wrapped around their wrists…why, that’s practically an elopement!”

Jiang Cheng, predictably, turned purple. “He eloped with my – I’m going to kill him!”

“Have fun with that,” Nie Huaisang said happily, and watched as Jiang Cheng drew his sword and charged, shouting something.

Wei Wuxian attempted to defend their conduct, except apparently their conduct involved finding the ghost of a Lan sect ancestor –

“Did you bow?” Nie Huaisang asked, very unhelpfully. “Both of you? So you’d say you’ve made your bows to the older generation? Have you bowed to heaven and earth yet, too?”

Lan Wangji gave him a death glare, but maybe he should have thought of that before writing to Nie Huaisang’s brother disclosing details about Nie Huaisang’s love life.

“I’m going to kill you!” Jiang Cheng roared.

Nie Huaisang smiled over his fan at Lan Wangji and gave a jaunty little wave.

-

+1

A few days earlier

“Wait, so, you’re actually together?” Nie Huaisang asked, and Lan Wangji nodded. They were having tea together the way they always did at the middle of the week, a tradition started long ago when their brothers were visiting and being utterly intolerable. Even their long-standing fight with each other would be put aside for mid-week tea. “Well done!”

Lan Wangji’s ears turned a little red. “Mm.” After a few moments, he added, “Mm.”

“No, no, I don’t think you need to worry,” Nie Huaisang said. “He may seem flighty, but he’s very loyal…the Jiang sect might object, though. They can be a bit tetchy about these things.”

Arched eyebrows.

“What do you mean, how would I know? Have you somehow missedthat I’ve been trying to snag Jiang Cheng all summer? There are more things in this world than Wei Wuxian’s waistline, shapely as it may be.”

Eyes narrowing.

“…don’t you dare tell my brother!”

A smirk, not that anyone else – excluding Lan Xichen – would know.

“I don’t care about your ‘appropriate conduct’! If you tell my brother that I’m dating instead of studying, I’ll find a way to make your life miserable, too! Just you wait!”

[mviswidow]

watching your hands

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Prompt: OMFG *peeks* ur reqs are open? are u comf with r being into pottery andd iss touch starved asf so when nat comes home finally, she hugged r from behind and peppers her with kisses and bites on her neck. nat would also reprimand r to just focus on pottering while u know ehe she would yeah yeah - 🍓🧃⛓

A/N: i’ve been dying to write this since i got the request omfg also i took like one pottery class in summer camp like years ago so let’s pray i remember how this works

You rolled your neck in a feeble attempt to relieve some of the tension built up there before pressing back down on the pedal to get your wheel spinning again. The quiet Mamma Mia soundtrack you had playing was helping to keep you from getting too stressed.

You were almost done throwing the mug you were making Natasha when you heard a door down the hall open, and you knew that she’d soon come to find you.

You were right, and smiled to yourself when you heard her close the door and bring a chair behind you, putting her arms at your waist and kissing the back of your neck.

You shiver involuntarily, which makes her laugh and you roll your eyes, despite her not being able to see you.

“I missed you,” you murmured when her hands rub up and down your thighs in a way that seemed innocent, but you knew she was teasing.

Nat smiled against your neck and squeezed one of your legs, “I bet you did.”

You shook your head, holding back a giggle. You leaned forward after turning down the wheel to grab a rib so you could smooth the outside of the mug. Natasha moved her hand up to grope you unexpectedly and your hand jolted forward, making the clay collapse and you whined loudly, “Natty, now I have to start all over.”

She apparently thought it was very amusing because you could hear her hold back a laugh as she apologized, “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll behave.”

You wet the clay again and formed it into a lump, speeding the wheel up again and centering it it quickly before creating a dimple in the center with your thumb and pressing down slowly to get the middle to open up.

You felt Natasha’s chin on your shoulder and you knew she was watching you now. She adored watching you throw. You knew it was because of your hands, she’d complained once that you were teasing her to make it look hot on purpose, but you had her pull up a random pottery video on youtube to see that everyone did it the same way.

Nat would get giddy when you told her she was going to make something, but she’d do her best to play it off and let you go into the small pottery studio in your house alone before following you in a few short minutes later, which was her way of failing in not seeming eager.

You opened the well further with your thumb by pressing outwards, making it deeper and finishing up the base of your mug. You suddenly felt Natasha’s hot breath on the crook of your neck and before you knew it she was slowly peppering your neck with kisses, and you were sure her eyes were still trained on your hands.

You took a steadying breath as you started to pull the clay upwards, though it was proving difficult for you to keep your mind on what you were doing when she bit down on your neck before soothing the skin with her tongue. You whimpered at that, drawing in a sharp breath and she rubbed circles on one of your thighs with her thumb.

“What happened to behaving?” you asked, thinning the edges and bringing the clay up further.

“What are you making?” she mumbled, avoiding your question.

“Uh, it’s a mug for you, since you dropped your old one,” you answered, referring to the toaster incident you’d had earlier in the week, when Natasha had her mug resting on the corner of the kitchen island and knocked it off when the bread in the toaster popped up and startled her.

“Well aren’t you just the sweetest?” she hummed, now switching to the other side of your neck and starting to leave a hickey.

Your hand twitched as she did so, and you were lucky enough to have been reaching in rather than pulling. Nat tutted from behind you and bit your earlobe gently, “Stay focused, pretty girl. We don’t want any more mistakes, do we?”

“N-No,” you stuttered, which caught you by surprise.

You sighed softly and got back to work, doing your best to distract yourself from your currently evil girlfriend’s open mouth kisses on your shoulders and the occasional nips at your skin.

“Is this a good size, babe?” you asked quietly, pulling your hands away and momentarily slowing the wheel by relieving the pedal of most of the pressure your foot was putting on it.

Nat nodded against you and kissed the side of your head, “It’s perfect, kotenok. Thank you.”

You smiled proudly as you grabbed the rib again, “You’re very welcome.”

You worked diligently, trying to be quick and careful before Natasha could sabotage you again, though you didn’t think she really would. Nat was singing along to the song that was playing, which calmed you as you smoothed out the rim of the mug.

Finally, you trimmed the excess clay at the bottom and used your wire to disconnect the mug from the wheel and nudged Natasha, who knew you were done but was reluctant to get up, “Up, baby. C’mon, I’ve gotta move this.”

She grumbled, but drew back and moved her chair to where she found it before leaning against a counter as she watched you move the mug to a mat.

You washed your hands in the sink and took your apron off with a sigh, flexing your hands as you walked over to Nat and wrapped your arms around her waist, letting her pull you into her.

“Thank you for keeping me company, Tasha.”

“Of course, malyshka. I can’t stand not being around my best girl.”

[satendou]

⟼  monster

⍣ all time low series | next | 1/4

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢  pairing: tendo/reader

⇢ au: atl!au, college!au

⇢ summary: you like horror movies, tendou likes horror movies, what could go wrong?

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, mentions of bullying, insecurities, piercings, cursing

⇢ word count: 13.2k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: i think this is the biggest fic i’ve ever written and it’s one of my favorites, if not my absolute favorite i’ve written so far. it was kinda hard to write it in a way that stayed true to my vision for it but also didn’t make it childish, so i hope i succeeded in that regard. as always, thank you to @keijiskitten​ for editing this!

“Oh, come on, ‘Kaashi,” you said, setting your hand on your hip. You were standing around in the middle of the classroom with him and a few others, waiting for your professor to show up who was no doubt getting a coffee from the overflowing Starbucks down the street. Class would be half over before he finally arrived. “It’s just a few scary movies.”

“Sorry, _____. I have to study and I just know that trying to watch movies with you and study is gonna be a nightmare,” he said, giving you a sympathetic look. “And give me nightmares.”

You rolled your eyes and looked around to Bokuto, who was scrolling through his phone while he chatted with Yaku about the next practice. That was a hard no. Poor Bo would agree without complaint and wind up with nightmares for a week, clinging to you throughout the night. Catching Akaashi’s eye, you exchanged knowing looks and chuckles.

“Hey, _____,” Semi said from your other side. He was busy filling out a music sheet with notes for his next possible song, and the way he said your name indicated he was more focused on that than your quandary.

Still, you turned to look at him over your shoulder, quirking your eyebrow at him. When he didn’t immediately continue, you prompted him. “What’s up?”

“Oh, right,” he said, looking up from the paper. He gave you a small smile and tapped the tip of his pencil on the desk in a smooth rhythm, leaving small marks all over the surface. “You should see if Tendo wants to join you. He’s really into horror movies too.”

“Um, who?”

Semi’s eyes widened in surprise and he pointed over his shoulder. You could hear Akaashi snicker from your other side. The chair on Semi’s other side tipped back on its back legs, and a man with close-cut red hair peeked around his back, waving cheekily at you.

“Hi, name’s Tendo Satori. I’ve only been hanging around you for about two weeks now,” he said and, though he sounded lighthearted and jovial about it, you could see the way his eyes remained narrowed, scrutinizing you. And he didn’t look impressed.

You flushed bright red, realizing you did know him but had never committed his name to memory. Mostly because he hadn’t ever really said anything to you or seemed interested in you at all. 

“I-- well, I’m sorry,” you offered awkwardly. But you meant it, at least. You felt a bit bad now that he was in your face. Trying to lighten the mood, you joked, “I’m _____ _____ and my brain space is committed to horror movies and studying. No space for names I’m afraid.”

Semi rolled his eyes and Akaashi heaved a long-suffering sigh, covering his eyes with his hand, but Tendo laughed at your stupid joke. His eyes eased up, his smile relaxing, and he now looked genuinely interested. 

“A horror movie marathon, huh? I’m interested. Why don’t you tell me more?”

--

Tendo didn’t actually expect it to go his way. As with most other people, he was sure you were just faking your enthusiasm and would flake out once you were free of him. 

And yet when lunch rolled around and your group of friends were standing in the breezeway, shivering as you tried to pick out some place to go and eat off campus, you fell into step beside him.

“I really am sorry for not knowing who you were,” you offered, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and slipping a pair of gloves on. “Could we, maybe--”

He cut you off, grinning. “Forgiven and forgotten, _____.”

Hesitantly, you smiled back. He was strange, to be sure. Even though you hadn’t really had a true conversation with him yet, you got the feeling he was different, eccentric and unpredictable maybe. The way he harassed the shit out of Semi and some of the others was hysterical, though. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made you feel that way, but it wasn’t bad. You were even a little curious.

“Okay cool. So if, by chance, we were to do this movie marathon, how would you feel about cannibals?” you asked, tapping your chin thoughtfully. It was a theme you had been thinking about for a while, but none of your friends were into horror movies much, let alone a dozen or so movies centered around such a gory theme.

Tendo clicked his tongue and you heard a strange clink. “Hypothetically, right?”

“Right,” you said, your eyes zeroed in on his mouth, waiting for him to speak again.

He hummed, his lips curling in thought and his eyes narrowing as he stared off in the distance. Second in height only to Bokuto, he towered over everyone even though the two of you walked together at the back of the group. Speaking of Bokuto, you could hear him over the chatter of the other students around you, talking about the diner just a block away from the school and guessed that that was where you were going. 

Then he shrugged. “That sounds rad. What’re you thinking? Hypothetically.”

“Well, obviously gotta go with The Hills Have Eyes. I mean, it’s a classic. And then of course Wrong Turn because there’s so many of those. And, uh…that’s all I have, but that’s literally like 8 movies and if we get past those I don’t know what we’ll do,” you said, weaving through the throngs of people on the sidewalk. You had forgotten you had been trying to see what was in his mouth just a few minutes ago as you avoided toes. You could see the diner sign up ahead, reading “Newly Opened” and a list of menu items, but it was otherwise obscured from your view.

A gasp from Tendo startled you and you whipped around to look at him, only to find him staring at you in disbelief.

He had to fight the laugh in his chest from coming up at the wide-eyed, freaked out look on your face as he said, “I cannot believe you’ve forgotten the most classic of classic cannibal movies, _____. How could you forget The Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies?”

Relief mingled with amusement on your face when you realized what he was getting at, and you covered your mouth as you laughed. Putting on your best ashamed expression, you closed your eyes. “I can’t believe I forgot those. I’m such a fake fan.”

“Kicked out of the club for sure,” he said, holding the door open for you. The bustle of the diner drowned out anything more Tendo said as you followed the others towards a large table in the back corner. After that, you were seated between Semi and Akaashi and the conversation was halted.

For the time being.

--

You didn’t bring up the marathon again, though you snagged Tendo’s number the day after you went to the diner. The conversation started out about movies and morphed into other topics like majors, highschools, how he knew Eita and how you had met Bokuto and Akaashi, amongst others. It left Tendo in a bit of confusion. The two of you kept up a steady stream of communication throughout the day, even sneaking in texts during classes that could net you extra work or pop quizzes. And yet never once was the marathon mentioned.

Part of him was bummed because he had kind of been looking forward to the movies, but the larger part of him was unsurprised. Something like that was way too intimate, and for someone like you to want to do something like that with a-- someone like him was too much to hope for. He was just happy that you weren’t avoiding him like most others did; he wasn’t going to ask for more.

Except he kind of did want more, and he didn’t want to feel that. The disappointment was already tangible on his tongue and he swallowed it down every time he saw you in the hall, chatting or laughing with someone else. It would ease slightly when you would turn to look in his direction, flashing a smile and waving as you passed by. In class, you started sitting beside him, Bokuto and Akaashi often following behind, and he found his small group of friends growing because of you. Bokuto was loud and brash and treated him like they were best friends, and Akaashi’s quiet demeanor reminded him a lot of Ushijima. Except he was maybe a little more expressive. 

You even started walking home with him, parting ways when you had to go in different directions with a soft smile and a shine in your eyes that he tried not to read too much into. He enjoyed those days, when no one else was around and he just talked. You even knew some of the manga he read, and he lost himself rambling about Jump. When he brought it up once, about how he talked too much, you shook your head frantically. 

“No, no, I don’t mind! It reminds me of Bokuto, to be honest. He can talk about anything and keep a conversation going so easily. I’m kinda jealous,” you said, giving him that satisfied smile again.

He tried to clamp down on the feelings, to keep a tight rein on the emotions that kept trying to pull his eyes in your direction anytime he heard your voice or drew his thoughts to you late at night.

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, frustrated at the fact that he was thinking of you a-fuckin’-gain. Didn’t he have enough to worry about without wondering what you thought of him? He already knew. You weren’t interested. It was fine.

His phone dinged, the screen lighting up to reveal your name and a text.

You: ‘watcha up to?’ Tendo: ‘nm. studying and suffering. you?’ Y: ‘“studying” sksks what’re you doing tomorrow night by chance?’

Tendo’s heart stuttered in his chest and he groaned, barely resisting the urge to fling his phone out the frost covered window in front of him. For the love of god, could the universe stop fucking with him? Clicking his tongue, he considered telling you he was busy. It would be easiest, and save him the disappointment that was sure to accompany whatever you had planned.

But his fingers were traitorous and typed out exactly what he didn’t want to say. Or so he told himself.

T: ‘nothin. what’re you thinkin?’ Y: ‘well...i’m thinkin about cannibals’

Tendou snorted at that and watched the three little dots appear again.

Y: ‘and u’

He choked and slammed his phone down on the desk, wincing and immediately picking it back up to check the damage. No, no way, he wouldn’t look at it like that. It wasn’t like that. You were just inviting him for the movie marathon in a totally platonic way.

Another message came in.

Y: ‘and me’

You were actually trying to kill him.

--

He could think of nothing the next day but how much he was looking forward to that night. Once he had finally gotten his shit together enough to text you back, the kinks had been worked out. It was almost a no brainer that he would be spending the night. A movie marathon with twelve movies meant an all-nighter, if the two of you could pull it off. He would go home after classes, while away the few hours until around six o’clock, and then head to the address you had given him. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t see much of you that day. You shared no classes, and you had a class when he took lunch, so he ate with Semi and Bokuto that day. Instead you snuck texts to him when you could, mostly talking about how excited you were for that night. It didn’t help, somehow both fanning and soothing his inner turmoil.

“Why do you look like you’re gonna throw up?” Semi asked at last. Tendo was staring at his half-eaten chicken sandwich like it had mortally offended him, and he was curious. 

Tendo jumped, having forgotten the other two were even with him, and shook his head. “Uh, nothin’.”

But Bokuto snickered and leaned in to whisper to Semi, who was already suspicious of his short, clipped answer. Whether he actually wanted to whisper or not, Tendo wasn’t sure, but Bo sure as shit didn’t manage it. “Him and _____ are gonna watch movies tonight.”

Of course you had told Bokuto. And probably Akaashi too. He wondered if they had changed their minds and decided to join you when they found out. It put a rather annoying feeling in his chest, like someone was squeezing his heart.

The other two were still talking in a loud whisper, watching Tendo’s expression shift and flicker through a myriad of emotions. Bokuto was lost, but Semi could recognize them after so many years of knowing the moody red-head, and wanted to laugh. He was so good at hiding his negative emotions, but when it came to sadness or happiness, he was like an open book. And he was being pretty obvious right then.

“Wow, that’s pretty big, Tendo,” he said, watching his friend closely. Tendo flinched, shrinking into his hoodie, and Semi nodded to himself. “Don’t let yourself get so worked up. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want to.”

He knew where Tendo’s insecurities were coming from. A childhood fraught with bullies and fake friends and people pretending they wanted him around only to treat him like a freak. Even through highschool it was that way, with a particularly nasty incident involving a girl pretending to want to date him that ended with Tendo refusing to come to school for almost a week. After that, he kept to himself and the volleyball club, refusing to even acknowledge that anyone else might actually want to get to know him seriously.

It had gotten a bit easier when he left Shiratorizawa and those memories and most of those people behind. Growing up with them was what had made it hardest, so surrounding himself with fresh people who didn’t have any preconceived notions and rumors about him had allowed him to open up a little. Even Ushijima, across the ocean in California, noticed a marked difference in Tendo’s demeanor.

Semi just hoped you didn’t do anything to send him spiralling back into his insecurities.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

It was easy for Semi to say that, but he had no idea what it was like, constantly worrying if people were being serious or if they were just waiting to pull the rug out from under him. Even now, he was fighting with himself to just get through the day, waiting constantly for you to change your mind and cancel the plans. Every time his phone lit up with your name, he expected it.

And yet, even after his classes ended and he arrived home, you didn’t. Just commenting that you would be MIA for a while while you cleaned the apartment and went to the store. And when you came back a few hours later, while he was binging Buzzfeed Unsolved videos, his heart leapt into his throat, but you were only telling him what you had gotten for him and to pick up anything else he might want on the way over.

The time couldn’t pass by fast enough while he busied himself packing as slowly as he could. He was already wearing sweatpants but brought a pair of basketball shorts just in case. A clean t-shirt and the other essential items he would need for the night went into a backpack, and when that was done he decided it was a good time to leave.

Unable to help himself, he sent you a text before he left, interrupting whatever you were already typing, the three little bubbles disappearing for a moment while you read his text.

T: ‘you sure you’re alright with this? i don’t have to come over’ Y: ‘?’ Y: ‘do u not want to!’ Y: ‘?*’ Y: ‘we can do this another time if you want’

He was typing before he could really think about the possibility that that might be the best option, his heart thumping harder than he liked in his chest, and he willed himself to take a deep breath. It was just two friends hanging out, watching horror movies together. Nothing more.

T: ‘no i do. was just making sure you were still ok w it.’ T: ‘leaving now to get snacks. your choices s u c k’ Y: ofc hurry up and get over here Y: ‘tf rude’

Locking the door behind him, he slung his bag onto his shoulder and sighed, hoping the night didn’t end as badly as his nerves were telling him it would.

--

Your doorbell rang an hour later, while you were in the middle of setting up your room for the binge. You were hoping he wouldn’t mind, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. It was hard to miss the nervousness and the way he seemed to shy away from you sometimes, especially when you did certain things like reach out to pull something off his hoodie or read something over his shoulder. But you wanted this to be as normal as possible, to prove to him you were genuine.

You liked Tendo. A lot. 

He was funny and sweet and just as eccentric as you had expected. His jokes were off-color but not offensive, just sarcastic and witty and you giggled every time. The way his face lit up when he heard you sent your heart into a frenzy, and the way it fell and he seemed to shrink into himself a moment later hurt. It didn't feel like a rejection of you but instead a rejection of himself and you wondered if there was any way to help him understand that you didn’t want anything from him but for him to be himself.

Upon opening the door, you found it was only the pizza delivery man, and you smiled with disappointment, until you spotted a shaved red-head coming up behind him.

Tendo gulped when he spotted you in your open doorway, wearing woolen leggings and a t-shirt, exchanging a box of pizza for cash and smiling brightly at him over the man’s shoulder. Waving, he waited until the stranger was out of the way before he approached you.

“Hey,” he greeted, peering down at you before scanning the empty living room of your apartment over your head.

You were unsurprised to see the wariness in his eyes, bleeding into the smile he was forcing on his face. It was your first time seeing a look so fake on him and for the first time you wondered if this was really a good idea. But it was only movies. And you liked Tendo. It would be fine.

So you smiled and ushered him in with one hand, the box perched precariously on your other, and watched him shrink into himself like he always did when he came within touching distance of you until he had passed into the living room. Then he just stood there, peering around with that same suspicious look, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down at the corners.

“So, what do you think?” you asked, pretending you hadn’t seen it as you moved into the kitchen. 

“It’s nice,” he answered, letting his bag hit the floor with a thump. The rest of the apartment was silent save for the heater going, and little by little he felt himself relaxing. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for little ol’ me, y’know.”

You giggled at the way he pointed at himself, wearing a cheesy grin as he walked into the kitchen. “Maybe not, but it’s been ages since I’ve been able to do anything like this. It’s as much for me as it is for you.” You punctuated your statement by poking him lightly in the chest, and he feigned pain.

“You wound me. And here I thought you were treating me special,” he moaned, leaning back against the counter and placing his hand over his forehead. He grinned a little hearing you giggle again, and then the pizza box hit his arm.

“I am treating you special, you goof,” you said, opening it up and letting the smell of cheese fill the kitchen. “With pizza. But I think we’d better take it into the bedroom, since that’s where we’ll be watching the movies. Just in case we fall asleep, you know,” you tacked on at the end, suddenly realizing how that might sound. Not that it meant anything, but again, you feared making him uncomfortable.

Absorbed in your thoughts, you missed the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, clashing marvelously with his vibrant hair. You carried the box down to your bedroom with Tendo on your heels, eager to see your room. It was about what he expected from you-- a messy bed, a cluttered desk, clothes half in your laundry basket and half on the floor surrounding it. The TV sitting on your dresser was already set up with The Hills Have Eyes menu playing, volume muted. You set the box on the bed before smoothing the covers and crawling on.

Tendo hovered in the middle of your room, casting his eyes around nervously, looking for a chair or something to sit on. He definitely did not want to assume, but you patted the bed beside you, giving him a quizzical look.

“I’m not gonna bite, Tendo. Promise,” you said, and though you made it sound like a joke he could hear a line of seriousness at the core. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, he walked slowly towards you, giving you every opportunity to change your mind, but you just looked impatient until he climbed on beside you. “Alright, now let’s get this started!”

--

Two movies in and the two of you had gotten pretty comfortable. Both of you had stretched out on the bed, but you had decided to lean up against the headboard with your pillows to support you while Tendo had opted to lay on his stomach with his head resting on his arms by your feet.

“Would you stop?” he laughed, pushing your foot away where it had been tapping incessantly at his shoulder. You were just doing it to annoy him, and you giggled at the irritated amusement in his voice.

The pizza box sat empty on the floor by the bed, but you found yourself craving something else to eat. When you hummed, Tendo looked away from the screen, rolling onto his side and propping his chin in his hand to watch you nibble at your lip. It was cute, he couldn’t lie, and the anxiety he had repressed by getting distracted by the movie came back slowly.

“What’s up?”

“I’m thinkin’ about...those chips,” you answered, and made to get up. You had to crawl over his long legs and almost fell off the bed as you gracelessly made your move, knee slipping off the small space between his leg and the edge of the mattress. Sticking your tongue out as he laughed at you, you pranced towards the door. 

“Bring my bags too, would you?” he called, pausing the movie since you had forgotten. It had just started, and you were lucky that he was nice enough to do it, especially when he heard your voice carry back down the hallway.

“Kiss my ass, Tendo.”

He laughed at that, loud enough that you could hear it from the kitchen and over the crinkling of the bags as you rifled through them. In the end, you shrugged and carried them all back down to your room, along with a few drinks. Maybe you wouldn’t have to get up again for a little while.

You shivered when you stepped back into the room. It wasn’t much warmer than the rest of the house, and now your arms and toes were cold. The heater was already set as high as it would go and hardly touched the chill, and you cursed the cheap piece of crap. 

“What, you cold?” he asked, pulling out a bag of the chips he had brought with him. The tab on a can of soda popped and he cursed as it fizzed over onto your blanket. “Shit, sorry.”

“No worries. Yeah, kinda. But the heater is already on full blast. Ugh,” you said, sitting beside him on the bed again. He was still wearing his hoodie, and up close he was warm, making you realize just how cold you were. You were just gonna have to crawl under your blankets because you would never survive the cold like that. “Wait…”

There was a tent on the screen where the movie had paused, and Tendo looked back and forth from it to you with curiosity. There was a calculating look on your face and he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Uh, what?”

There was no way he would agree to it. Way too intimate, right? But it really seemed like it’d be right up his alley, and it would be fun to build, and it would get you warm. It was the perfect idea really.

“Tendo, how do you feel about making...a pillow fort?”

The heater continued to buzz in the corner, overlaid by the slight static from the TV, while Tendo processed your question. His mouth had fallen open, brows furrowed while he stared at you in what could only be surprise, and you laughed nervously.

“Wha-- Seriously?”

“Um, you know what, nevermind. I guess it was a stupid idea. It just seemed like it might be fun and--”

He cut your babbling off with an excited wave of his arms, leaning forward into your space and in the light from the TV you could see a childlike happiness glowing in his eyes. “I’ve never made one but it sounds like fun. You know how to do it?”

Stunned by the turn of events, you nodded. “Well, sort of. Mine have always fallen down after a while though,” you admitted, standing up from the bed again. “We need chairs and books and all the blankets and pillows we can find. And the couch cushions. Probably.”

In no time flat you had everything gathered, with Tendou hovering around waiting for you to direct him. It was a pain to get everything set up, and you ended up using the bed since you didn’t have enough chairs. Moving the chairs all over the place until there was enough room inside and you could put the books down to seal the ‘walls’ was tedious, but it was worth it when Tendo crawled in to set up the cushions to seal the space beneath the bed. After padding the floor with several blankets to lay on, you stuffed the pillows from your bed in after Tendo. When you didn’t immediately crawl in after him, he poked his head out to see what you were doing.

“Well, we didn’t think this through at all, so now we gotta watch the movies on my laptop,” you said as you ejected the DVD from your player. The jingle of your computer booting up played and backlit your face in the glow, and you prayed it wasn’t going to go right into an update. It took a few minutes to start up, so you passed it to him while you plugged the power cord in and ran it into the fort. 

You could hear the clicking of the mousepad and by the time you flipped off the light and crawled in beside Tendo, the movie menu was playing. You also realized just how cramped it really was with Tendo’s lanky form inside. There was just enough space for both of you, but you were going to have to either sit up with it in your lap or you were going to have to set it to the side of you and lay on your sides.

He was tense, staring determinedly at the movie playing and trying to avoid moving too much. Or so you guessed, anyway. Anytime you so much as shifted he would jerk away before relaxing, and you were a split second away from nixing the idea. A part of you was starting to wonder if it wasn’t you that was the problem, but if it was, why had he bothered to agree?

“You’re really warm, Tendo,” you said, trying to break the ice. It was an awkward and clumsy attempt, but maybe you could help him settle down if you showed him you weren’t uncomfortable first?

But that just made him pull further away, leaning against the couch cushions. “Oh, sorry.”

It was already warm and comfortable in your little fort, a light blanket thrown over your knees and warming your toes. And with him beside you, you were actually a little more than comfortable. “No,” you said, waving your hands frantically, “no, like, it’s nice. I’m finally warm.”

It was hard to tell in the washed out light of the laptop, but Tendo’s face turned a very bright shade of pink. He tugged the neck of his hoodie up over his nose and fixed his eyes firmly on the flickering violence, annoyed that he was overwhelmed by something so simple. Why did you have to be so damn cute?

But it did the trick, even if he didn’t know that was your intention. He finally relaxed and stopped flinching every time you shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Sitting cross legged only worked for so long and Tendo noticed you moving around after a while, when your knee knocked his for the third or fourth time.

“You alright? You’re about to bring the whole fort down,” he commented around a mouthful of chips.

“Ah, well, my back is starting to hurt sitting up, I guess. I wanna lay down,” you said, sounding whinier than you meant to, following it up with a short stretch. It alleviated the pain for a moment, until you hunched over again.

He swallowed his chips and returned his eyes to the TV screen, thinking. On one hand, he wasn’t exactly comfortable. On the other, he had no idea what you were thinking. Did you want to abandon the fort?

But you didn’t say anything, fiddling with the blanket for a few moments as you tried to work up your courage. You damn sure didn’t want to tear down your fort-- it had taken you way too long to put the stupid thing up-- and if you said the idea of cuddling up with Tendo wasn’t appealing, you would surely go to hell for lying. The underlying problem was him. What would he say if you brought up the obvious solution?

You were taking too long to answer, so Tendo prompted you, pausing the movie. “Do you want to just get back on the bed again?”

“No,” you said, and then flinched. You had answered way too quickly and that somehow made him nervous and reassured at the same time. “This is really nice I just…I-know-that-you’re-kind-of-uncomfortable-and-I-don’t-want-to-make-you-more-uncomfortable.”

Tendou stared at you, unblinking as he tried to decipher your breathlessly rushed words. After a moment he laughed, still confused, but he could see the anxiety on your face. “I-- what? All I heard was uncomfortable, I think. But you don’t make me uncomfortable.”

Your heart thumped painfully in your chest as that weight left your shoulders. He was so intuitive it was almost scary. Even still, you had to make sure. “Oh, really? You always seem like...weird around me, I guess. I was starting to think I was pushing too hard, I guess?”

“Sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head. His elbow brushed the sheet above you and he quickly dropped it. “I’m used to people being uncomfortable around me. Guess it just turned into a habit to avoid people I don’t know. So that I don’t freak them out.”

Not entirely true, given that he enjoyed messing with people, but it was true in your* case. It took you a moment to answer, and he started to worry that he had said too much. 

“You don’t...make me uncomfortable, Tendo. You never did. You’re a weirdo but not...in a bad way,” you said, and glanced at him to gauge his reaction, worried he would take it in a negative light.

But he was smiling, eyes fixed on the paused movie and you bit your lip. He was way too attractive and you couldn’t fathom anyone who thought otherwise. Clearly they were just cowards.

“Well that’s a relief. It would make things pre-tty awkward right now if I did,” he said and bumped your shoulder. It felt like a whole planet was lifted off his shoulders with this revelation and he heaved a huge sigh. “So, if we don’t want to abandon the fort but our backs are about to crumble, what do we do?”

“Uh.” You blanched, having forgotten about that little hiccup. Your idea was embarrassing to think about let alone explain and if you hadn’t made him uncomfortable yet this was sure to.

“Uh,” he mocked, and twisted around like a snake so his face was in front of you, blocking the light from the screen. “Spit it out before we collapse.”

“Just-- um--” you stuttered, and he quickly realized whatever your idea was, it had you flustered. He was just about to start teasing when you picked up the laptop and set it to the side of you. Rolling over onto your side, you tucked your hand underneath your pillow and relaxed, feeling the pain immediately alleviate. “Now you lay down. If you want.”

Your heart was racing in your chest, waiting for him to do something. It was a long, long minute before he finally said anything, and it wasn’t what you expected. Not that you had any idea of what to expect.

“Uh, are you sure? I mean, we could just--” What was he thinking? This was exactly what he wanted and wasn’t it Semi who had said she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want it? Did he really have to overthink everything? You were in a literal pillow fort watching scary movies with him, offering to let him cuddle up with you, and he still thought you weren’t sure.

“Well, unless you aren’t,” you said, and was that disappointment in your voice? No way.

“No no, no. I’m gonna take my hoodie off first, though. It’s way too warm in here now,” he said, backtracking quickly. Then again, maybe it was just him that was too hot. It was an actual dream come true, and he pinched himself quickly just to make sure he wasn’t asleep. 

You rolled over onto your back to watch him struggle, his arms brushing the ceiling and walls of your warm little haven as he fought the hoodie. Your eyes widened as it finally came free, seeing the colorful swirls of ink covering his arms. “Holy shit.”

“Wha--?” he said, and turned to find you staring open mouthed at his tattoos. “Oh, right, I guess you haven’t seen these before, huh?”

“Nope,” you said, sitting up and squinting to see the undefined shapes in the faint light. It was almost cute the way he held his arm out to you hesitantly, like a child offering you a drawing to examine and praise. Taking it, you traced the lines covering his smooth, warm skin, trying to figure out what they were. But the shapes were undefinable in the faint light. You could make out splashes of blue and purple, red and pink, separated by black lines or faded together to make something. Part of you wanted to ask, but there was something mysterious about not knowing. “I can’t even tell what they are but god, Tendou, I know they’re gorgeous.”

He shivered at your featherlight touches, the feel of your fingers skimming delicately over his skin, and your words caused fire to erupt in his stomach and chest. His tattoos were something he was extremely proud of, one of the few things he had that made him feel confident, and hearing you compliment them made him feel so fucking good. Chucking his jacket out into the room, he returned to your side and the two of you got comfortable.

Pressing play on the movie for the 3rd time, the two of you fell silent. With your head below his chin, it was the perfect position for him to see the screen over you. You could feel the warmth rolling off of him, only an inch of space between his chest and your back, and both of you were well aware of it.

It was nearly impossible to focus on the movie, trying to reign in the urge to just slide back a little bit and mold yourself to him. Nibbling at your lip, you rolled just a little under the pretense of stretching and bumped into him. Just your arm into his, and he didn’t move away.

“You good? Need more space? I can crawl under the bed if you want,” he said, smirking at you. He thought he knew what you were playing at, but your next words confirmed it. It was the oldest trick in the book and, even though no one had ever used it on him, he had seen it at work with Semi and Shirabu too many times.

“Just stretching. I’m still a bit cold though,” you said, facing the TV again.

Suppressing a snicker, knowing damn well that wasn’t what you were after, he offered, “I can get you another blanket, if you need it.”

The silhouette of your shoulders fell, and you couldn’t hide the sigh that accompanied it. “It’s alright, Tendo. It’s not that bad.”

You really should have seen that coming, you guessed. The swell of hope and the crash of disappointment was painful in your chest, and you tried to focus on the movie again, ignoring the tempting warmth at your back. If he wasn’t interested, he wasn’t interested. It was cool.

Which was why you jumped when a weight settled over your side, a snicker filtering behind you as he molded himself to your back. It was slow, hesitant, and you would guess he was trying to make sure you were alright with it. Warmth seeped through your t-shirt and you sighed happily, shimmying back into him out of instinct, and this time you could feel his quiet laughter in his chest.

His arms were so long that he had to fold it in front of you, hand coming to rest just underneath your chin, and when you relaxed so did he. With his chin resting atop your head now, he asked, “Better? This is what you wanted, right?”

“Shut up,” you whined, hiding your face in your hand. It was embarrassing enough without him having to tease you about it. But you supposed it wouldn’t be Tendo if he didn’t make fun of you for everything. It was so easy after that to focus on the movie, now that you had gotten what you wanted. The snacks lay forgotten near your feet, not wanting to move and mess up the delicate balance that was now between the two of you.

It was tenuous and any small movement from either of you could send it toppling in either direction, and you weren’t even sure what it depended on. You knew for sure which way you would like to see it go, but it was just as comfortable the way it was.

Silence fell again until the movie ended, which was the only reason you moved. You could probably have fallen asleep like that, but you weren’t ready yet, wanting to bask in whatever you had with Tendo for a while longer.

When you sat up to change the next movie, Tendo rolled over onto his back, watching you fiddle around with it. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck and he shifted uncomfortably. Seemed you felt the same because you turned to look at him, an apology written on your face.

“Sorry, do you mind if I go change into shorts. It’s actually too warm for these now,” you said, setting the DVD case back on the pile. You felt like you were suffocating in your thick winter leggings now, but if he wasn’t okay with that then you would suffer a little longer. At least until you melted.

“Oh thank god you said something. I was about to die in these sweatpants, I swear,” he answered, fanning his face with his hand. You were pretty sure he was just exaggerating that though. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’, and crawled towards the escape flap, wincing at the sound of crunching and crinkling under your knees all of a sudden. “Oops.”

“Oh those had better not have been mine,” he whined, flashing the light of his phone towards the bag. He groaned, seeing his bag of doritos crushed. He could hear you snicker outside the sheet as you walked away and growled, “Watch it. Yours are still in here, _____.”

You opened a drawer as he finally came out as well and began rifling through his bag, pulling out the pair of shorts he’d packed. When you turned around with a pair of soft shorts in your hands, you found him standing awkwardly in the middle of your room again and laughed. “I’ll go change in the bathroom. I gotta use it anyway. I’ll be right back.”

Your footsteps receded down the hall and he raced to get changed before you came back. His sweats landed on his backpack and he shrugged at himself. What did it matter, so long as they weren’t on your floor?

The sound of the sink reached his ears just as he was climbing back into the fort, frowning at his crushed chips even as he shoved a handful into his mouth. He was so gonna make you pay for a new bag, especially because you had laughed. The door creaked open and the flap shifted, and he almost choked on his chips as he realized just how short your shorts were. Were your legs always that long? And smooth? And pretty? Shit.

“How are your chip fragments?” you joked as you made yourself comfortable beside him again. Your hair fanned out behind you and you gathered it up off the base of your neck, twisting it around so that it spread out above you instead. How the fuck was the back of your neck sexy*? 

He was so screwed.

“Uh,” he replied. Smooth, Satori. Shaking his head, he tried to gather his thoughts and focus them literally anywhere else. It worked. Sort of. “Pointy. You owe me a new bag.”

You scoffed, smiling at the car full of vacationing teenagers on the laptop. “There’s like four other bags in here. Quit whining.”

But he wasn’t giving it up, throwing his bag into the corner and hopefully out of the way of your carelessness. Settling behind you like he had before, he once again left space between you, afraid now of how his body might react if he didn’t. “No, all of them suck.”

You definitely noticed the gap and wondered if he was just waiting for you to take the initiative, so you did. Before he could blink, you were once again molded to his chest, head tucked under his chin and knees folded around his. He tensed, fingers curling into a fist while he willed himself to chill.

His arm came down around you again, but you could feel how stiff he was. When you made to move forward again, to give him space, his arm locked, even pulling you back again and you grinned. With his arm now lit up properly by the light of the laptop, you realized you could see the tattoos more clearly, and began to trace the stars and fish on his arm.

“Aren’t these the spirit fish from Avatar?” you asked, skimming over the white and black koi. It was a watercolor piece, lacking the heavy lines like the ones on his other arm, and you felt him nod against the top of your head. “They’re gorgeous. Who’s your artist?”

“A friend of mine in Miyagi did those,” he answered, watching you continue to trail up his arms. Goosebumps were raising the fine hairs all over his body, your touches so gentle and intimate, your focus rapt. Higher up near his elbow was what appeared to be two jolly rogers, but they weren’t the normal ones. “Those are from a pirate manga I read in Jump,” he said before you could ask, and you smoothed your hand over them before sliding it back up near his hand.

His heart skipped a beat when your fingers curled into his palm, hesitating before you slipped them between his. He was sure you could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, unaware that you couldn’t because yours was racing fast enough that you were lightheaded. Folding his fingers down over your hand locked them together, but you didn’t try to pull away. If anything, you tried to cuddle up closer to him, dragging your hands so that they were pressed to your chest. It was the most intimate thing he had experienced in recent memory and if his heart didn’t slow down it was going to explode.

The movie wasn’t holding his interest and a new question cropped up in his mind, one he had wondered more than once before tonight and he couldn’t figure out why he thought of it now, but he latched onto it because otherwise he really thought he was going to combust. Besides, it would ease some of his insecurity if he got an answer.

“What took you so long to set this up, anyway? I kind of thought you had changed your mind for a while,” he said, staring at the screen. He was sort of taking it in, an anchor point so he didn’t get lost in his thoughts.

Your chest rumbled against his hand when you hummed, and your answer was so mundane and rational that he almost laughed. “Well a part of it was wanting to get to know you a bit before we did this. Didn’t want to invite a total stranger to spend the night, after all. And then it was just a matter of waiting for my roommates to freakin’ leave.”

“Oh, are your roommates actually gone*?” he asked in surprise. He had thought they were just out for the night and would be home-- probably not soon, given the time, but still. “Like, for the weekend?”

You hummed again in agreement, twirling the ends of your hair absently around your fingers. You were locked onto the movie, absorbed as Leatherface chased one of the characters he didn’t care about through the yard. He fell quiet, thinking you wanted to watch uninterrupted, but then you asked, “That’s alright, right? They would have just wanted to join in otherwise and they can’t stand horror movies either, so they would’ve just talked through it.”

Exactly like he was doing, he realized, and his face grew hot. Hopefully he hadn’t already annoyed you. He nodded, responding in a much quieter voice. “It’s fine. Was just surprised, I guess.”

For a while, neither of you said anything and Tendo managed to focus on the movie, feeling you jump and twitch every once in a while at scares you weren’t expecting. Unfortunately, those movements were brushing against areas that he really didn’t need them too and your shorts did nothing to diminish the curve of your ass against him or the slowly growing hard on he was getting. It didn’t help that every time he shifted even a little you would just follow him, as if he wasn’t pinned by your hand holding his.

But shit, if he didn’t move soon he was going to be screwed. The bathroom-- that would get him out of there before he embarrassed the fuck out of himself.

It was too late, though. You flinched and ground your ass back into him and he groaned before he could help it. You froze, he froze, he just really wanted to die.

“I-- Sorry. I’m really sorry,” he said, tugging at his hand to try and escape. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but the best option was probably to leave and transfer to a school in a whole different country. He could already hear your words now, an echo of so many times before, the sting of disappointment a familiar feeling around his heart.

“I’m sorry, Tendo. I just don’t see you that way.”

It was because he was a freak with a weird name and creepy eyes and-- fuck. It was high school all over again, being rejected by someone he genuinely thought liked him only to find out they were using him to get to Ushijima or pretending to as a fucking joke, only this time Ushijima wasn’t around and he had really gotten himself into it by agreeing to any of this.

But you were refusing to let his hand go, holding so tight he thought his fingers might break, saying his name until he came back down from his panicked high.

“Tendo, Tendo, calm down, please,” you were begging. You had rolled onto your back, unable to sit up because you were using both your hands to keep him from jumping up and taking the whole fort down. You could see it on his face when he finally heard you, wide vermillion eyes locking with yours while his heart continued to race.

He remained propped up on his elbow, ready to run at the first opportunity, and you almost felt bad for antagonizing him as much as you had. If you had known your teasing was going to get him this riled up, you would have tried a different tactic-- or not tried it at all. Maybe you had pushed too far too soon, and the skittish look in his pretty eyes worried you that you had ruined it.

“It’s alright, Tendo,” you said, trying to keep your voice quiet and soothing. It felt an awful lot like you were dealing with a wary animal-- like a coyote or a fox. When the insistent tension in his arm faded is when you relaxed your death grip on his fingers. 

The sound of the movie was too loud in the unnatural silence between you, and you rolled over to turn it down. When it was only a background buzz, you turned back to him. He was still staring at you without blinking, his eyes devoid of the panic from earlier but now they were eerily blank.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, deadpan. He flinched when you took his hand again, forehead scrunching in confusion. “I don’t understand. There’s no way you-- What are you doing?”

It was your turn to be confused, pursing your lips at him. He sounded so lost-- and wary again-- like a child. For the first time, you wondered what his childhood had actually been like. He talked an awful lot about Ushiwaka and Semi, and the volleyball club in general, but you heard nothing outside of that. It made you suspicious now.

“What am I doing?” you parroted, finally sitting up. Your joined hands fell into your lap and you stared down at them, petting the back of his hand with your free one. “Do you not want me to?”

His words were stuck in his throat, trapped by the lump there, and he swallowed thickly. His mouth felt like cotton, and he shook his head, croaking out, “It isn’t that. I just don’t understand why.”

“Why what?” you asked, gentle amusement in your voice. There was no teasing, no malicious undertones that he could hear, like you were waiting to spring the final part of the joke on him. And he was listening for it. After years of dealing with it, he had learned to recognize it in people’s words and on their faces. The way their lips would curl and their eyes would narrow just before cruelty would spew from their mouths, he knew the tells and you--

Had none.

There was nothing but open curiosity and nervousness-- and hope. A lot of hope swirled in your eyes and he swallowed again. He was just going to disappoint you. If not tonight then tomorrow, if not tomorrow then next week. It was going to happen--

“Why do you like me? How do you like me? I’m-- weird. And you’re--” He gestured frantically up and down at all of you. You weren’t anything he was-- a freak. With freaky eyes and a freaky name and a freaky personality.

“I-- um,” you said, and you couldn’t help but smile. There was clearly a lot of baggage with him, and his questions made that obvious. It was likely too much to unpack tonight, especially when you were still only just getting to know each other. Reassurance was what he needed, and that was something you could offer on the spot. “You’re funny...and sweet and...very good looking. Your eyes are so pretty. Um, there’s also the fact that you’re the only person who would watch these movies with me, which earns you a lot of points, in my opinion,” you said, tapping your lips as you stared up at the ceiling.

Your face was on fire as you listed things off the top of your head, your throat tight with anxiety as you wondered what he would say in response. They were all surface level things for now, but you knew underneath the armor that there was a lot more to Tendo, and you hoped you had a chance to discover it.

He groaned low in his throat, not from disgust but from a deep seated need to believe you meant those things. His forehead met your shoulder, his fingers squeezing yours. He didn’t fight it when you eased back down, following after you without a word, leaving his face hidden in your neck. He was still trying to gather his thoughts and calm his overworked heart. It would be so easy to reject you and be on his way, to return home and beat himself up for letting himself get too close and too comfortable with you when he knew nothing would come of it.

Except something had come of it and he wasn’t sure what to do now. Semi and Ushijima always told him he was too closed off and that someone was going to come around who actually liked him and his ‘weird ass’ and that he was going to lose that chance because of some stupid high school assholes. Was he though? He wanted to believe you, wanted to trust you, and slowly he relaxed, his stress leaving him in a long, tired exhale.

“You mean it?” he whispered against your neck, and you could feel his lashes tickle your skin when he blinked. His arm was heavy where his hand rested on your stomach, fingers intertwined with yours, and you squeezed his hand as tight as you could.

“I do. I like you and really want a chance to get to know you better,” you whispered back, and it suddenly felt like no one existed but the two of you, protected from everything in the world outside by a few sheets and each other's warmth. There would be things to discuss and hiccups to overcome, but you could worry about those tomorrow. In that moment, all you wanted was to prove to Tendo you wanted him.

Maybe it was your words, whispered softly into the dark, or your hand gripping his for dear life, or the way you let him cling to you like a lifeline, or maybe it was a combination, but when he pulled back from his hiding place and found you staring at him, he slotted his lips against yours without thinking. Your lips parted almost immediately, free hand sliding out from between your bodies to tangle in the close cropped hair at the nape of his neck and you used it to pull yourself closer. 

When your tongue poked out to glide across the seam of his lips, he let you in on a breath, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His eyes were squeezed shut tight as your tongue met his, praying that what was happening wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t expecting it when you gasped and pulled away all of a sudden.

His eyes popped open and he stared down at you with panic. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“I-- forgot you have a tongue ring,” you said, and the laughed. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

He blinked like an owl, eyes wide as he processed your words. It wasn’t something that he had ever expected to hear in his life, let alone from the girl he was half-making out with in a freakin’ pillow fort. He suddenly wondered if his life had turned into a Shounen Jump manga.

“Well, so are you,” he said, and leaned in for another kiss.

It was kind of hot to see him confident and you felt heat pool in your stomach, starting to bleed further down as his tongue slipped into your mouth again. He tasted like the root beer he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t resist toying with the piercing, swirling your tongue around it and listening to him moan against your mouth. 

Your shirt had ridden up your stomach as you moved around, trying to get closer to him, and neither of you realized it until Tendo’s hand smoothed over your skin. He froze mid-kiss, waiting for your reaction, and was unsurprised when your hand grabbed his.

What he didn’t expect was for you to guide it upwards, letting go when you hit your ribs to cup his cheek. Pulling back just enough that he could speak against your lips, he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Frankly, Tendo,” you said, and kissed him again before you continued, “I haven’t wanted anyone this bad in forever. Even if we wake up tomorrow and change our minds, I am fucking sure right now.”

He groaned, letting his hand hike your shirt up a little higher until his hand cupped under your breast. He wasn’t sure when you had taken your bra off, or maybe you hadn’t been wearing one the whole time, but there was nothing impeding his skin from caressing yours. Your breast was so soft in his hand, topped by a pretty pink nipple that he couldn’t resist pinching. You mewled underneath him, pulling your shirt up to uncover your other breast and he moved to that one, doing the same and feeling your nipple harden at his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he rasped, gazing down the length of your body. Your thighs were clenched, and his hand migrated lower, fingertips skimming over your skin.

The heat that was pooling earlier erupted when they met the waistband of your shorts, but he paused, looking unsure again.

“Tendo, I’ll show you how much I want this,” you whispered and grabbed his hand. He was still hesitant, looking at your face as you slid his hand into your panties, and his eyes widened.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, his fingers gliding over your soaked lips, spreading your slick all over them. His fingers quickly found your clit, circling it and you squeezed his hand between your thighs, hips jerking. “All because of me? I’m flattered.”

Teasing at your soaked opening, he waited for you to balk but you only twitched, panting against his lips before he sunk one finger in, your walls parting easily. You moaned and he swallowed it in a kiss, his tongue filling your mouth again. It wasn’t long before he was fitting a second finger, crooking them up and grazing your sweet spot, his thumb taking over massaging your clit as he pumped them inside you. Your arousal was already high enough that you could feel your orgasm coming on, and you pulled away to announce it.

“T-Tendo, gonna--” You gasped when he forced them in deeper, a mischievous smirk on his face as he prodded your cervix. “How-- fuck, your fingers are so long,” you whined, toes curling.

“Think you can take one more?” he asked, already fitting the tip of a third finger in. But it was only when you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes that he slipped it in. Your teeth dug into your lip before they parted in a soundless cry.

The coil snapped on the first thrust and he groaned, drinking in your face as he tipped you over the edge. No one had ever cum so prettily for him before and he wanted to see it again. 

But only if you wanted it. His cock throbbed painfully in his shorts when he pulled his fingers from your twitching hole, feeling you shudder against him. Examining his glistening fingers in the screen light, he slid one experimentally into his mouth and moaned. “You taste so good, princess.”

You gasped at the pet name, a warmth unrelated to the one between your legs blooming in your chest. He said it was such reverence that you flushed, hoping he’d say it again at some point. Never had anyone called you that before, at least in that context.

When he laid back down beside you, his erection brushed against your leg and he stifled a groan. He was wearing boxers but the friction against his cock was still a pleasurable sensation. Not as much as your hand might be--

Speaking of hands, he nearly jumped out of his skin when you cupped him, squeezing and kneading up the length of him confined in his clothes. A shaky breath ripped out of him, the result of him barely containing a moan, and his long fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop you.

“That’s alright, _____. You don’t have to--” But you weren’t listening and the pressure felt too good. His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed, content to let you literally massage his dick until you started tugging at his shorts. He stopped you more insistently then, pulling your hand away. “Wait a second. Let me get ‘em off since you’re so eager, princess.”

He pulled his shirt over his head first, because it was getting way too hot in there anyway, and then kicked his shorts and boxers off into the dark corner. His cock bobbed against his stomach as he rolled onto his side again, leaking precum already. 

Your hand was soft against his stomach, roaming over the hard planes of his abs and down further, until it wrapped lightly around his head.

And froze.

“What the-- Tendo, what are those?” you asked in a high pitched, startled tone. Before he could answer, you let go and rolled onto your back, exposing him to the light and you thought for sure you had died and gone to heaven. 

It wasn’t just his arms that were covered in ink. His shoulders, chest, and sides were all covered in it as well, swirls and splashes of color interrupted by splotches of black or white or skin. You could hardly make out what the images were in the flickering, inconsistent light, but you recognized flowers and circles, and on his pec you were pretty sure there was a scene of a lake bathed in moonlight. And as your eyes followed the path of colors down, you landed on the thing that had startled you in the first place.

“Those are--” you breathed, taking his cock into your hand again. There was a ball at the tip, covered in precum, and you knew if you traced down, you would find another just below the crown. Further down on his shaft were five horizontal barbells in a row, and you recognized it as a Jacob’s Ladder. “Fuck me.”

“Gladly,” Tendo quipped and pounced. He settled between your legs and tugged your shorts down over your hips, and you had to hold your legs up to let him pull them the rest of the way off. He was too tall to sit straight up without brushing his head against the ceiling, but he braced back on his arms when you grabbed his shaft again. He groaned when you fondled the ball below his crown, shuddering at the intense pleasure. It was one of the major reasons he’d gotten it- to enhance the sensations. But the feel of your fingers gliding over his tip, gathering the precum and nudging the ball was something else entirely. “Holy shit, that feels amazing.”

His voice sent shivers through you, deep and raspy and way too needy. But you were unsure of what would hurt him, so you kept your touches light, feeling his thighs tense under yours, his fingers squeezing your calves as he let you explore. Before long though, he was pulling your hand away, pinning it down at your side. “Can’t keep that up, princess. I need more, if you’re alright with it,” he said, letting his cock settle against your cunt. 

The piercings were warm and pronounced against your folds, and you shuddered when the ball under his head grazed your clit. The thought of them inside you, rubbing all along your walls as he fucked you was too much and you could feel yourself growing wetter, your pussy drooling for it.

“Yes, Tendo, please. I want it, I want to feel them inside me,” you begged, rocking your hips. The stimulation was mind blowing and your walls clenched, empty and needy for him to fill you up. And he would, his cock was huge-- he still had room for more piercings below the ones he had. You had no doubt you would be stretching to take him and you keened in the back of your throat.

“I want you to call me Satori, princess. And I need you to let me know if it’s uncomfortable,” he said, pressing the tip of his cock into your sopping hole. “Sometimes they make it hurt, but you’re so fucking wet I don’t think it will. You really like these, huh?”

You were really just answering his question as you said yes, but a stream of them fell out of your mouth as he pushed the rest of his cock inside you, encouraging him to continue. The stretch was so good, your walls splitting easily for him, and you could feel every ball just like you had imagined grazing against your walls. The ball at his slit rested snugly against your cervix, and you didn’t even realize you were screaming as you came, hips jerking in his hands as he let you ride it out.

He was staring at you with what could only be awe, his mouth slack and eyes wide with surprise. “Holy fuck, princess, did you just cum?”

Your breaths were coming in pants as your mind spun, trying to come down from the unexpected high. It came on so suddenly you had no time to prepare, and tears slid down your cheeks. “F-Feels so good,” you whispered, fingers digging into the blanket beneath you. “Satori, oh my god.”

“Are you alright? We can stop--” he said, but you shook your head frantically, locking your ankles around his back, and he laughed under his breath. You sure were something else. He knew for a fact no one had ever come just from him sliding into them and a swell of pride filled his chest. “No? Alright, whatever you want, princess. Can I move?”

This time you nodded and he was slow as he pulled back, making sure you were okay. You were so tight around him from your orgasm, your walls fluttering with overstimulation, but your back arched when he stuffed himself back in, a breathy moan slipping out of you. Hiking your legs higher up on his hips, he bent over you, gathering your hands and pinning them above your head, lacing his fingers with yours. His lips met yours as he thrust into you slowly, grinding deep and stifling a moan. Once again you were playing with his tongue ring, flicking it as you suckled on his tongue. The fort-- and probably the room-- was filled with the wet slap of his hips on yours every time he drove his cock into you, drowning out the low buzz of the forgotten movie still playing. He was being careful, waiting for you to stop being so sensitive, and he knew you were ready when you arched into his chest and pulled away.

“So good, Satori,” you murmured against his lips, hips rising to meet his. Your eyes were glazed and fucked out, tears still flowing and you could already feel the start of another orgasm, but he was moving too slow. The drag and pull of his piercings had almost all of your attention, the ball at his tip constantly tapping your cervix, making your toes curl with every thrust. “You’re so big, and those-- fuck-- piercings feel so good inside me. I can feel them all everywhere.”

He snickered darkly at that and kissed your cheek. “You wanna feel even better, kitten?��� he whispered into your ear, nipping the shell. He could feel you nod against his cheek, nails digging into his hands where he kept them pinned above your head, and then he was letting them go and pulling out of you. You whined, staring up at him in dismay, but he already had your thighs in his hands, prodding you to roll over. “Trust me, pretty girl. On your stomach, just like that.”

It was a bit difficult to get comfortable, but he grabbed a pillow and jammed it beneath your hips before settling with his legs outside of yours. And when you shook your ass, begging him to hurry up, he couldn’t deny you, not when he wanted to be back inside your tight heat so badly.

“Holyshitholyshitholyshit,” you whined, high-pitched and breathless as he finally filled you again. His thighs trembled as he forced himself not to just stuff himself into you, you were so tight. And the way you were crying and shuddering beneath him wasn’t helping, especially when you gasped his given name like a prayer. “*Satori, oh my god.”

If you thought those piercings felt good before, you were in heaven now. Everyone of them dragged slowly over the front wall of your cunt, grinding into your sweet spot and you had to bite the pillow to keep from outright screaming. And he was so, so, so big inside you, but with your legs trapped between his there was nothing you could do but take him. Against your will, your legs kicked, hitting him in the back as you wailed into the pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks in an endless flood. 

He snarled into your ear as he planted his elbows beside your head, plastering himself to your back. “You are so fucking tight, princess. How do those piercings feel now?”

“So good so good so good,” you babbled, circling your hips back on his dick to get any friction you could. The orgasm that had been building came back ten fold just from him hilting inside of you and you knew that if he fucked you like this you would be cumming in seconds. “‘Tori, please move, please please please.”

Your needy begging made his cock twitch and you whimpered as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in, intentionally slow to let you feel everything. The pleasure was ebbing and flowing, building and falling because he wasn’t moving fast enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to go faster, not when you could feel him so clearly. Every time he bottomed out, he made sure to grind down into you, nudging your cervix with the tip of his cock so he could feel you clench suddenly around him. It never failed to make him moan, your slick walls gripping him so tightly as he dragged himself back out. He wanted to make your pussy his new home and barring that he was going to fuck the shape of his cock into you.

“Tell me what you need to make you cum, princess,” he whispered into your ear. He knew what he needed, but he was still learning what would make you feel good. 

Releasing the pillow from your teeth, the first thing you did was moan out his name again as he buried himself inside you again. You were so close to cumming, your clit throbbing with need and if he even brushed it you were going to be gushing all over him. You gasped as he thrust a little harder than before.

“If you don’t answer me I’ll just keep going like this, kitten. I can go for hours, if you want,” he whispered, warm against your ear. That made you twitch underneath him, and he chuckled. “You like the sound of that? We’ll try it another time. Right now, I need you to tell me where you want me to cum and how I can make you cum, okay?”

His words were dark and sweet and coaxing, and you were sure you had never whined so much in your whole life. “Touch me, please, Satori. I wanna cum all over your cock and pretty piercings while you cum in me, oh fuck.”

Bracing himself on his elbow, he forced his hand beneath your stomach, aided by you lifting your hips, and you whimpered when he finally, finally brushed your clit. It was all it took and you had to bite the pillow again as you creamed all over his cock, whiting out and screaming into it as you shuddered and jerked. He eased you through it, leaving his cock buried inside you while he fondled your clit, listening to you whimper and moan. It was a good thing you had hidden your face because you would surely have woken the whole complex up otherwise. 

He groaned into your ear as you massaged his cock, so tight that you launched him into his own orgasm, cumming inside you as you had asked. He remained still inside of you even after you had relaxed, leaving small kisses all over your hair before he leaned down to rest his head on the pillow. He had fucked you so slowly that he hadn’t broken a sweat, and yet he was still out of breath and panting. His head swam for several more minutes, until you shifted beneath him. But you didn’t move like you wanted him to get off.

Instead, you turned to look at him, a lazy, blissed out grin on your face and said, “Holy shit, that was so amazing. I’ve never cum so many times.”

“So were you. I’ve never made someone cum so many times,” he admitted, and replayed the way you came just because he had filled you. That was something he was unlikely to ever forget. He brushed some hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you. It was slow and gentle, belying how tired the two of you now were, and he could see you were ready to fall asleep. “Gonna pull out of you now, princess. Need you to stay nice and relaxed, okay?”

You nodded, your eyes closing and winced as he slid from your ruined hole. A stream of cum followed after and he took a moment to appreciate it, allowing a smirk to steal across his face. There was no doubt you were his now, at least for a little while, and he committed it all to memory before gently gripping your shoulders. “We should really get cleaned up, then we can go to sleep.”

You grumbled cutely but let him help you up, the both of you stumbling blindly to the bathroom. Sleepiness was a thick fog, and you got cleaned up as quickly as possible before returning to the room. The two of you stood in the doorway, looking at the mess of nonsense covering the bed, and then you looked at Tendou.

“Let’s just sleep in there,” you suggested, taking him by the hand. He let you lead him over, watching the way your ass swayed as you crawled into the fort for hopefully the final time that night. In the few minutes it had taken him to get in after you, you had already pulled a blanket over your legs and were setting up the next movie to play. Not that you would be watching it, but he understood it was the principle of the thing. This was a movie marathon and it just wouldn’t do to fall asleep without being in the middle of one.

Once he’d gotten comfortable behind you, you rolled over and splayed out across his chest, startling him. He had expected to curl himself around your back while you went to sleep, but now you were tracing what lines you could see on his chest in the thin light. His hand rested on your waist, the other tucked behind his head, and he closed his eyes, comfortable with your warmth and weight in his arms.

“Satori,” you murmured, your hand falling flat right over the picture of the lake. “I really do like you.”

He laughed at that, and you could feel it rumble in your ear, deep in his chest. He was clearly as tired as you were, but you needed to say it. There was something in your half asleep brain that would not stop telling you to say it, and you were in no position to fight it.

“I figured as much, princess. Three orgasms are hard to fake, especially around a dick as big as mine,” he answered, and you blanched for a moment before erupting into laughter. He watched you through narrow eyes, fondness bubbling in his chest, until you settled back down against him. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that?”

“So’re you,” you murmured. The nagging had stopped now that you had said what you needed too, and you were falling asleep quickly. “Don’t be gone when I wake up tomorrow, okay?”

“It already is tomorrow, and I’ll be here. There’s nowhere else I wanna be anyway,” he answered, letting his eyes close as well. With your comfortable weight on his chest and your even breathing mixing with the buzzing of the movie in the background in his ears, he drifted to sleep in no time, for once not worrying about what tomorrow would bring.

⇥ masterlist 

⇥ taglist: @visaintes​, @kunimwuah​

[cyndavilachase]

I’m Looking Forward Now 💖Thank you and good bye

So, it’s been a little over a week since Steven Universe Future ended… 

I’ve been hesitant to write this, honestly, but I’m tired of holding myself back from properly expressing myself in fear of appearing overly invested in the media I consume, even in private. Writing helps me organize my thoughts and feelings, and I feel like these thoughts in particular may resonate with many, so I want to share them. I want to talk about what Steven Universe has done for me personally, both as an artist, and as a person.

I’ve been around since the day the first episode of the original series aired. I actually remember when Steven Universe was just a logo on Wikipedia’s “List of Upcoming Cartoon Network Shows” list, back when I was a freshman in high school. It piqued my interest, but when commercials finally dropped for it, I thought it was going to be bad because of the way marketing handled introducing Steven as a likeable character. There was still something about it that made me want to give it a chance though, so I went online and watched the pilot before the first episode's release. I was hooked immediately. I knew I was going to love it, and I did. I fell so absolutely in love with Steven as a character, and the world that he and the gems lived in. I became obsessed. I was always so excited for new episodes to come out. Little did I know what else it would do for me as I went through my adolescence alongside it.

As the show progressed, it was evident that what I wanted out of a western animated childrens’ cartoon was finally coming into fruition: this show was becoming serialized. There was continuity, there was plot, there was character development-- it was getting deep. It was pushing the groundwork that Adventure Time laid out even further (thank you, Adventure Time).  

I will give credit where credit is due: earlier western childrens’ cartoons I grew up with like Hey Arnold, and Rugrats, among others, also touched on heavy topics, but Steven Universe was able to take similar ideas (and even more complex ones, concerning mental health and relationships) and expand on them outside of contained episodes and/or short arcs. These themes, which were a part of the show’s overarching story, spanned across its entirety. Continuity was rampant. 

What did this mean? It meant kids cartoons didn’t have to be silly and fun all the time and characters weren’t just actors playing a part in 11-minute skits. Steven and the gems would remember things that happened to them, and it affected them and how they would function and play a part in their story. This was a huge deal to me as a teenager. I always wanted the cartoons I grew up with featuring kid characters to feel more. In my own work, I often felt discouraged when combining a fun, cutesy western art style with themes as dark or layered as anime would cover. I always thought it had to be one or the other because an audience wouldn’t take a combination of the two seriously enough, based on discussions I had with classmates, friends, and online analysis I read at the time. Steven Universe proved to me otherwise. This show was opening the door for future cartoons exploring in-depth, adult concepts. I felt so seen as a kid, and was inspired to stick with what I love doing.

I was actually very worried about the show’s survival. It was in fact immensely underrated and the fandom was miniscule. Then in 2014, JailBreak dropped, and it’s popularity exploded. Part of it was because of the complex plot and the themes it was covering like I mentioned, but also because of its representation. 

I remember when fandom theorized that Garnet was a fusion due to grand, tragic reasons. Turns out, she’s simply a metaphor for a very loving w|w relationship. This was huge. I cannot stress how important it is that we continue to normalize healthy canon queer relationships in childens’ media, and Steven Universe finally was the first to do that proper. Introducing these themes offers the chance for a kid to sit there and ask themselves, “Why is this demonized by so many people?” I asked myself exactly that. Ruby and Sapphire were my cartoon LGBT rep. They were the first LGBT couple I ever ecstatically drew fanart of. I was dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia at the time, and they showed me that I was allowed to love women and feel normal about it. The process of overcoming this was a long one, but they played a part in my very first steps into becoming comfortable with my sexuality. I could go on and on about it’s representation in general-- how it breaks the mold when it comes to showcasing a diverse set of characters in design, in casting, and in breaking gender roles. It’s focus on love and empathy. Steven himself is a big boy, but he's the protagonist, and the show never once makes fun of his weight, or any other bigger characters for that matter. It wasn’t hard to see why the fandom had grown so large.

Fandom was always a joy for me. It was a hobby I picked up when I was in middle school, like many of us here did. I would always cater my experience to fun, and fun only. I only started getting more deeply involved in SU’s fandom when I had just turned into an adult. During the summer of 2016, between my first and second year of college, I drew for the show almost every day non-stop when the Summer of Steven event was going on and posted them online. This was a form of practice for me in order to become not just more comfortable with experimenting with my art, but also to meet new artists, make new friends, and learn to interact with strangers without fear. I dealt with a ton of anxiety when I was in high school. When I was a senior applying to art school for animation, I decided I was going to overcome that anxiety. I made plans to take baby steps to improve myself over the course of my 4 years of college. Joining the fandom, while unforeseen, was definitely a part of that process. I started feeling more confident in sharing my ideas, even if they were fan-made. I fell in love with storyboarding after that summer, when I took my first storyboarding class, and genuinely felt like I was actually getting somewhere with all of this. I remember finally coming to a point in my classes where I could pitch and not feel hopelessly insecure about it. I was opening up more to my friends and peers. 

But this process, unfortunately, came to a screeching halt. 

My life completely, utterly crumbled under me in the Fall of 2017 due to a series of blows in my personal life that happened in the span of just a couple weeks. My mental health and sense of identity were completely destroyed. All of that confidence I had worked for-- completely ruined. I was alone. I nearly died. My stay at college was extended to 4 and half years, instead of the 4 I had intended. I lost my love for animation-- making it, and watching it. I could no longer watch Steven Universe with the same love I had for it beforehand. It’s a terrible thing, trying to give your attention to something you don’t love anymore, and wanting so desperately to love again. I dropped so many things I loved in my life, including the fandom.

Healing was a long and complicated road. I continued to watch the show all the way up until Change Your Mind aired in the beginning of 2019, and while I still felt empty, that was definitely a turning point for me with it’s encapsulation of self-love. I was hoping James Baxter would get to work on Steven Universe since he guest-animated on Adventure Time, and it was incredible seeing that wish actually come true. The movie came out and while I enjoyed it and thought highly of it, I was still having issues letting myself genuinely love things again, old and new. It was especially difficult because cartoons were my solace as a kid, when things got rough at home. I remember feeling sad because the show ended, and not getting the chance to love it again like I used to while it was still going.

By the time Steven Universe Future was announced, I was finally coming around. I was genuinely starting to feel excitement for art and animation again. I wasn’t expecting there to be a whole new epilogue series, but happily ever after, there we were! Prickly Pear aired, and the implications it left in terms of where the story was going did it. I was finally ready to let myself take the dive back into fandom in January of this year. My art blew up, something I wasn’t expecting considering my 2-year hiatus. Following this, I was invited into a discord server containing some of the biggest writers, artists, editors, and analysts in the fandom. I had no idea there were so many talented people in the fandom, some already with degrees, some getting their degrees-- creating stuff for it on the side just for fun. The amount of passion and productivity level here is insane, and so is the amount of discussion that has come out of it.

I didn’t realize it at first, but it was actually helping me gain back the courage to share ideas. I lost my confidence in pitching while I was taking the time to heal, and graduating meant there would no longer be a classroom setting I could practice in. This group helped immensely. 

I have made so many friends through this wonderful series, and I have so many fond memories talking to like-minded creatives, getting feedback and a myriad of sources for inspiration, as well as all of the memes and jokes and weekly theorizations that came about as we all waited on the edges of our seats for episodes to air. I needed this so badly, I needed to get back in touch with my roots, when I would go absolutely hog-wild over a cartoon I loved with people who loved it as much I did. Future has been a blessing for me in this way. I graduated feeling like I was back at square-one, but now I feel like I’m on my way again.

It’s 2020 and while I’m doing great right now, I am honestly still recovering from the total exhaustion that followed after graduating a few months ago, and finally leaving the campus where my life fell apart behind. Needless to say, watching Future was like looking into a mirror. Watching one of my favorite characters of all time-- one that grew up with me-- go through so many of the same things I went through not too long ago was absolutely insane to watch unfold. It’s such an important thing too, to show a character go through the process of breaking down over trauma and all the nasty things that come with it, and to have them go on the road to healing. Steven got that therapy. He wasn’t blamed. The gems were called out. The finale was everything I could have ever hoped for. The catharsis I experienced watching it was out of this world.

As I continue my own healing journey, I will always look up to the storyboard artists, revisionists, and designers that I have been following over these past 7 years, as well as the new ones introduced in Future. It's been such a joy watching these artists release their promo art for episodes, talk about their experiences working on the show, and post the work they've done for it alongside episodes airing.

Thank you Rebecca Sugar, the Crewniverse, and the fans, for making this such a truly wonderful and unique experience. Thank you for reminding me that I am, and always will be, an artist, a cartoonist, and a fan. Thank you, my followers, for the overwhelmingly positive response to my artwork. I have had so much fun interacting and discussing the show with you all again over these past few months. Steven Universe and it’s fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and it will always be a classic that I will return to for comfort and inspiration for decades to come. I am sad that the cartoon renaissance is over, but so many doors have been opened thanks to this show. I am so, so excited to see what this show will inspire in the future, and I hope one day I get the opportunity to be a part of that. 

Goodbye Steven, thank you for everything. I wish you healing, and I wish Rebecca and the team a well-deserved rest. ♥️

-Cynthia D.