#I literally didn’t know it was him talking in one panel

[jaycee-penny-art]

I’m reading the Twilight Princess manga and I was not prepared for him to look like That™

[coconut530]

BAD TECH CULT. BAD. 💛📦🗣️🪤🖤

[newttxt]

the best way to luffy’s stomach is through his heart (or something like that)

a four page one piece fancomic in which luffy and law talk about luffy’s stomach

page 1

panel 1: a top view of luffy and law sitting in grass. luffy is leaning back on his hands with his legs outstretched. law sits crosslegged between them. they are both looking down at the hole in luffy’s abdomen, where law has used his devil fruit power to remove his stomach. “whoa! cool!” says luffy, while law hums, “hmm… interesting.”

panel 2: a close-up of law’s hand holding luffy’s stomach in its cube-like container. “it looks surprisingly average,” law says, “for a bottomless pit.”

panel 3: “isn’t it weird?” luffy asks. he is sitting with his back to the viewer, but his smile is still visible as he leans into law’s space. law is still crosslegged, holding the stomach, and he looks vaguely uncomfortable as luffy keeps talking. luffy says, “that thing can make food stop looking like food and start looking like poop! huh. wonder how it does that…”

page 2

panel 1: law looks off to the side, sweating and kinda grouchy. knowing he’ll regret this, he mutters, “i… know how… at least for NORMAL humans.”

panel 2: the back of luffy’s head takes up most of the panel as he demands, “what?! i wanna know too!” law grits his teeth and shouts back, “you’re just gonna fall asleep!” and luffy yells, “nuh-uh!”

panel 3: luffy grins widely, throws his arms out to the side, and flops onto his back in the grass. he’s loudly yelling, “tell me! tell me, traffy!”

page 3

panel 1: law is visible from a low-angle, as if from luffy’s pov on the ground. he sighs, “fine. here’s how it works.”

panel 2: this panel looks similar to the previous, but its slightly darker, with gray bars at the top and bottom, narrowing visibility to show luffy’s eyes are closing. law continues, “the stomach has two main functions.”

panel 3: law is now barely visible through the gap. luffy is almost asleep. law says, “the first, as YOU know, is the storage of food.”

panel 4: the background is completely dark, and law’s words trail off, “the second is—“

page 4

panel 1: a large, top view of luffy lying on his back in the grass. his arms are thrown wide still and his eyes are open. he has just jolted awake, saying, “hmm?” off-screen, law complains, “i don’t know WHY i bothered.”

panel 2: law accuses, “you didn’t listen to a word i said.” luffy sits up, his lips pursed and eyes narrowed because he’s a terrible liar. he says, “sure i did,” dragging out the “sure.”

panel 3: luffy breaks into a grin and proudly declares, “it’s a mystery!” law cuts him off with a “NO,” his speech bubble literally dripping with disdain.

panel 4: the silhouette of luffy and law sitting side by side. law is whapping luffy on the head with a light fist. law says, “idiot…” before bonking him. luffy yells, “hey!” but he is laughing, and a small “heh” shows law is too.

[pollyanna-nana]

One of the most tragic and compelling aspects of Dunmeshi, to me, is that we’ll probably never know (unless Kui tells us lol) how Delgal actually felt about Thistle. I’ve seen people say that he genuinely cared for him as a brother and his journey to the surface was to save him from his madness as much as it was his people. I’ve seen people say that he saw Thistle as nothing more than a fancy accessory or tool that ended up going astray. Others I’ve seen (and personally agree with) say that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. But honestly, I think any one of these interpretations has the potential to be correct… and that’s just heartbreaking.

After all, Delgal is dead. Like, dead-dead. The very first chapter of the manga starts with his spirit leaving this mortal coil, taking that answer with him. And…

How he talks about Thistle here… it’s interesting. He does not ask for him to be talked down, or captured or imprisoned, but instead “defeated”. Which Mithrun interprets as asking for his death… which is reasonable, because that’s likely how the vast majority of adventurers interpreted his words, too. Obviously as he was crumbling to dust he probably didn’t have the capacity to be particularly verbose or explain the complex backstory to how the kingdom ended up this way, but the effect is the same no matter how he may have felt with it. He asked for Thistle to be killed.

But… even in situations where he wasn’t under any such time limit to explain what was going on, he still seemed not to. Most glaringly:

Yaad seemingly has no idea that it was Delgal’s fault that Thistle sought the demon’s power. Obviously he couldn’t talk to him about it because Thistle was, uh, a little out there by that point, but why didn’t Delgal explain? Was he embarrassed? Mournful? Couldn’t find the words?

Delgal was scared of dying. He wanted prosperity at any cost, and how could Thistle possibly refuse? Did he even realize that what he was the one who pushed his own brother— One who basically helped raise him despite being a child himself, and in many ways is still a child— down this path? Or was it like watching an overzealous employee misinterpret directions?

The way Yaad describes things here makes it sound like Thistle simply dug too deep in his studies and fell into madness, but we know that’s not true. Delgal didn’t “suggest” he learn magic, he wanted a mage who could help himself and his people defy death, which he admits to Thistle openly:

So, why? Why not tell his grandson, at least, the truth of the matter? Did he worry it might make the remaining residents more likely to upset Thistle, and therefore suffer the consequences? Did he just not care? For what it’s worth though, Yaad does suspect the truth from Delgal’s behavior.

He “always blamed himself” for his descent into the dark arts. This is just Yaad’s observation, and that’s without knowing that it was quite literally Delgal’s fault Thistle went down this path. So, why? Why was it all kept a secret?

Of course, this made things ripe for the winged lion to manipulate to its advantage. Clearly despite knowing he’d pushed him into using it, Delgal still thought the lion was a force of good that was misused by Thistle as a result of his madness. His face in that last panel is particularly haunting. He looks terrible, gaunt and pale with overgrown hair and missing teeth. Had he gone mad, with grief and sorrow, as well?

Could he no longer see Thistle the way he did when they were younger? No one can ask him, because he died long before the story even began.

To go back to the original question, well, how did Delgal see Thistle? None of the previous points make a definitive answer any clearer, and I think that’s just brilliant. And so, so tragic.

[aemondsbabe]

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.” 

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page. 

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces. 

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more. 

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another. 

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering. 

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board. 

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips. 

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging. 

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned. 

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again. 

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead. 

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat. 

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks. 

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them. 

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?” 

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade. 

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner. 

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.” 

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder. 

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men. 

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers. 

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses. 

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.” 

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter. 

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware. 

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.” 

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him. 

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering. 

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck. 

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain. 

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves. 

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck. 

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder. 

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt. 

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach. 

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.” 

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister. 

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase. 

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail. 

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place. 

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush. 

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice. 

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window. 

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.” 

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute. 

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?” 

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act. 

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?” 

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth. 

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem. 

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook. 

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?” 

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?” 

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low. 

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket. 

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.” 

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request. 

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you. 

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.” 

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?” 

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?” 

“Do you?” 

“Fine, yes.” 

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables. 

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes. 

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone. 

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together. 

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles. 

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes. 

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?” 

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing. 

“You.” It comes out as a breath. 

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark. 

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.” 

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.” 

“None?” 

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.” 

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. 

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair. 

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his. 

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.” 

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger. 

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands. 

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling. 

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine. 

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.” 

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading. 

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump. 

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly. 

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk. 

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.” 

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric. 

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip. 

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath. 

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat. 

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand. 

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need. 

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit. 

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” 

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl. 

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table. 

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally. 

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses. 

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric, 

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child. 

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you. 

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud. 

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit. 

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers. 

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open. 

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment. 

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?” 

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance. 

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.” 

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down. 

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.” 

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock. 

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?” 

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock. 

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately. 

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release. 

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair. 

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin. 

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things. 

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.” 

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down. 

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat. 

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air. 

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[deadghosy]

HAZBIN HOTEL X ALBERT/FLAMINGO! READER

prompt: after causing chaos in life is paradise, you accidentally clicked the wrong “alt” button.

Oh wow- listen…I’m in my Albert phase guys…so yeah. ANYWAYSSS-

You just got done making your Roblox video as you wanted to exit out of it. You were going for the alt + 4 button only for the alt to look red and shine into your face. The light blinding your sight made you scream as you opened your eyes to see you are in a new area.

…. “Am I in hell…” you said in a high pitch voice. You panicked out a pitch scream gaining weird looks from the sinners. You still kept your human look but as you screamed, the control panel of admins show up. You stopped screaming immediately with an “oh.” And smiled evily

After wrecking most of the pride ring, you felt tired. Seeing an advertisement on tv about a hotel that redeems sinners, you thought maybe you could do some good here. So you pulled out a keyboard and type to teleport to the said hotel

You can go into the wrath, pride, and gluttony ring. It’s pretty real as you have the wrath to destroy things when pissed off. You’re prideful that you can’t be destroyed, and you have the gluttony to eat. A lot.

I can see you just having a small flamingo demon pet following you around. Literally you would make it bite and stab people. You taught it how to do the billy bounce.

The crew most definitely thought you were schizophrenic because you talk out loud as if you were talking to someone 

BIG HEADCANNON THAT YOU HAVE ZOOMIES AROUND THE HOTEL😭

“I start stabbing, now that the lights are out?” “Albert/Reader, please no.” Charlie says holding your arms down. The power went out and you were craving blood.

You’re just a little gremlin :D

Imagine how chaotic it was to not fling someone out of the hotel for fun 😭 LMAO A SINNER FLINGING ACROSS THE WHOLE PENTAGRAM.

“I’m taking away their happiness in a good way!” You say smiling as you drag a resident away from Charlie who seems traumatized. You were like an alastor 0.2 but more happy actually.

LMAO YOU HAVING A BAN HAMMER SO WHEN A RESIDENT IS BEING AN ASSHOLE YOU JUST SLAM THE HAMMER ON THEIR HEAD WITH A “BOOP”

I can imagine you having the same physique as the og Albert. Literally one minute you look like your animal crossing character, and the next thing they know you are some buff Florida man.

“I’m going to make them regret being born.” You said as you clicked an admin that made your skin black with red eyes. The angels came towards you as your cut their heads off.

The whole cast was in shocked seeing a human like you being so powerful with just a panel no one can touch.

“Being a baby will not prevent me from shooting you.” You said jokingly as this toddler was winning uno. The mother ran away with her child as you screamed out uno.

Angel started to rant about what he does for his job and how he basically seller his soul to this moth porn demon. After he told you things what the demon does to Angel. You snapped.

“BITCH I WILL SHOOT YOU!” Yells reader as they cocked their gun. Basically the whole crew has to hold you back as Valentino is pissing himself.

Vox didn’t even know who you were until Valentino started having nightmares and random shadows in his room. (The shadows were you lol) Vox had to look you up and try to find who tf you were. You were a YouTuber. That all it showed up on his feed as he scoffs.

Husk has no opinion on you. He only knows you as that guy with a flamingo. He would sometimes side eye you while you do crazy shit. But matter of fact you two are chill.

“We have different ways of expressing ourselves..” you say to Angel trying to comfort him. “I like this way, he can’t defend himself. And I like that.” You say shooting down a sinner while in battle. Angel dust just side eyes you as if you were actually crazy.

You’re not allowed to go into turf war with him no more.

Velvette has no legit problems with you. Dead ass you and her might be fashion partners. HAVE YOU SEEN ALBERT’S DRIP ON INSTA?! That MAN IS GOOD!

You have so much wanted posters, even you brag to others at how cool you look while destroying someone’s house. All because you were bored.

Charlie is mostly worried for your mental health while Vaggie just knows that you aren’t really the most mental stable in the group.

“STOP DOING THAT! STOP CRYING! What are you a baby?!” You say while smacking away a whole imp baby that was crying beside you on the merry-go-round

Charlie’s eyes widen at what you did. You were like a man child.

I can headcannon you deadass bombed the Vees tower out of pettiness. It was just funny seeing Vox shocked to his damn boots that his home was now gone.

Lucifer made you a duck flamingo cause of how he was trying to be nice to you. He knew you wasn’t a sinner or an angel of sorts. But you were a human that he never seen before. He probably makes you some damn pancakes if you want them.

Lucifer would probably ask if you have a flamingo demon form because you told the crew that you go by flamingo and Albert. You just stood there confused to what this short man was saying. But you just nodded trying to see if you could actually turn into a flamingo.

Headcannon on you just actually helping around by just replacing and changing furniture. You help Charlie with trust exercises as the resident are just confuse at a human being here.

“WHO needs powers, when you have a gun!” You yell excited pulling out a gun from your admin control. You shot downa sinner who was trying to fight you. Alastor just doesn’t see why how your “guns” are more powerful. They don’t even have angelic metal.

Carmilla carmine had seen how you legit shot an angel down with a simple looking gun. It was insane but amazing. She definitely called you down to her place so she can see what your bullets are made out of.

Imagine how you basically see people’s/sinner’s names as if it was a name tag aka username. You would go around saying their name out loud as they look at you scared and crazy. “Hello Hakka!” “How you know my name?!!!!” 😕

Rosie adores you, you may be man child that’s like a gremlin. But you are so sweet and helping. Alastor made you meet her and honestly, it was a great meet and greet. Honestly 10/10.

Headcannon on you and Niffty both killing bugs together. You use your ban gun as Niffty uses a sewing needle. This sweet girl made you a big crown, you better appreciate it.

Alastor had messed with your food making you pissed off. It was the end of the day and you hadn’t eat anything due to not taking care of yourself much. So your reaction was justified when you see alastor’s grins widening.

“I hope you choke on your next meal.” You say as your voice had suddenly boomed across the hotel. It was like as if your mic boosted it, but you don’t have one.

You and Alastor have like a sibling relationship as you two just want to watch people suffer. Literally it’s funny as hell when it’s that one Xbox meme.😭

“MOM SAYS ITS MY TURN TO CAUSE SUFFERING!” You say trying to get over Alastor’s tall body as he causes chaos in the pentagram city.

Sir Pentious didn’t like you at all. Like he was actually scared at his crazy and psychotic you are at times. But when he saw how calm and laid back you actually were. He actually started to warm up close to you. 

The egg boiz follow you around asking if your pet flamingo could play with them. It was so cute as they play with your pet flamingo.

Cherri absolutely loves you and your destructive behavior. Literally you two are a deadly duo cause you would give her some of your admin powers and take it back.

You once actually set up a limb store, literally you were getting that money✨😈 you had chopped off so much limbs got your deer customers.

I can see you actually taking people’s souls lol. You just take souls for fun and not for contract which leaves some overlords confused and scared of your powers.

Heaven would be scared of you personally. Like you are such a menace, sera sent your ass back to hell. Your human appearance was still the same tho lol.

Adam and you, beef on sight. “Why do you even have that pink bird? What are you, ret@rded?” “No but your mother is.” You said back while flipping him off.

Sera doesn’t like you. Your chaotic energy and your “evil” doing are not prohibited in paradise. She might tell Big G about how a human is in hell in perfect condition.

Emily heard about your presence by sera, she wanted to meet you but then again. You are back in hell. But she hopes to meet you one day.

See, me personally you would rob a bank for fun and then give it to some homeless imps in the wrath ring. It’s just you doing random shit while bored.

I can imagine you turning someone into the hulk. You deadass have so much power that it’s concerning and crazy for the hotel crew and rest of hell. You have alot of powers and you can turn people into some green buff human?!?

[luveline]

Hiii I literally love you and your writing especially your Eddie writing!!! Anywaysss, could I request a shy!reader where they and Eddie are dating but they kinda kept it on the down low but reader was having a bad day and was being all clingy and like everyone found out and the hellfire club was just like 😮

hi i love u ty for ur request! hope this okay ♥️ shy!fem!reader | 1k words

You know you shouldn’t go to his club. It’s not fair of you. Hellfire is one of his sacred nerd rituals. As soon as he sees you like this he’ll put it on pause, and you also know – one of the only things you do know about Dungeons and Dragons — that stopping in the middle of a game interrupts the flow.

Still. You’re feeling a little selfish and a lot strung out. Today has sucked and all you’ve done is wish he was there to make you feel better, so you walk down the hallway to the club room and stand at the door, trying to summon the courage to open it.

On the other side, Mike Wheeler catches a flash of your clothes through the small glass panel and frowns. He jabs Dustin Henderson hard in the side, earning a, “What the fuck, dude?” that Mike quickly shushes.

“There’s a girl outside,” he says.

Girls are… uncommon, at Hellfire.

Dustin leans forward to look around Mike’s torso and forgets to whisper. “Is she crying?”

Eddie looks up, annoyed at being interrupted by the newbies and about to delve into a speech on respecting your dungeon master when his gaze slides past them. He spots your torso, your hands pulled up to your chest, and he knows it’s you. From the curve of your arm alone.

He’s half standing when you knock.

The rest of the group gawp as he stands. Usually, Eddie would either ignore whoever it is or have someone else answer, and his sudden willingness is downright shocking.

He cracks the door open. He’s barely had time to take in your tear stained cheeks when you’re whispering apologies. “I’m really sorry,” you say quickly, pulling the sleeves of your soft cardigan down over your hands. “I needed to see you.”

“What happened?” he asks, trying for hushed like you but missing the mark.

Mike and Dustin make incredulous faces at each other, eyes squinted in confusion.

“Who the fuck is that?” Mike asks.

Lucas Sinclair grins from across the table. “Who do you think?”

“You know her?” Dustin questions. He sounds pissed to have been kept out of the loop.

“Nope,” Lucas says, elbows sliding over the crinkling paper of his character sheet as he pulls in his chair. “I’ve never seen her before in my life. But that’s definitely his girlfriend.”

A handful of laughs from around the table. “Yeah, right,” Gareth says.

Lucas leans in even closer, practically conspiratorial as he points to Eddie’s dirty-white sneakers. “Look, see how close they’re standing?” When nobody looks convinced, Lucas glares. “I know what I’m talking about!”

He really does. The toes of your shoes are a hair's-width from Eddie’s, face to the ground as you scrub your wet cheeks. Telling him about your bad day has made it somehow feel better and worse, and your breathing comes shallow.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I know you’re playing your- um, your game.”

Eddie glances over his shoulder. The large majority of the group whip their faces back to their sheets, caught. He shoots a scowl at them all, though any annoyance slips away when he turns back to you. You look so sad.

Eddie doesn’t really think about it. He steps out into the hall and lets the door close behind him, arms wrapping around you placatingly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s been a really shitty day,” you say hoarsely.

“I know,” he murmurs, rubbing your back. Your shoulders tremble under his palm. “You should’ve found me earlier.”

“I didn’t want to ruin your game.”

“You haven’t. They’re on break,” he promises.

It’s a total lie but he couldn't care less about the campaign, not when you’ve come unraveled. You nod into his chest and worm your shaking hand around his waist, squeezing so tightly it aches. His head tucks over yours like it was made to and he wills some stillness into you, perturbed by your shuddering. He hates when you get like this. You're so wound up you can’t calm yourself down.

Inside the club room, there’s a riot of whispering, some quieter than others.

Lucas sits back in his chair smugly. “Dude, you have a girlfriend. You shouldn’t be so surprised,” he says to Mike.

Mike peers through the glass door with a mild disgust. “Me and my girlfriend don’t do that.”

“That is not true.”

“We don’t-“

“No, they really don’t,” Dustin agrees. “They’re too busy trying to swallow each other.

Anyone who’d been listening starts to laugh, worse when Mike’s cheeks flare red and he flips them all the bird. The laughter quickly dies when the door opens and Eddie returns, his sad maybe-girlfriend trailing behind him.

“Someone get a chair for Y/N,” is all he says.

You look like you might burst into flames on the spot. Everyone’s eyes are on you. You hate it.

“Thank you,” you say, though you aren’t sure who you’re thanking as somebody passes you a chair. Eddie sits back in his ‘throne’ and you sit beside him, cheeks dry but eyes still red and face downtrodden.

Eddie leans back and rolls his eyes at the silence. “She’s my assistant for today's session,” he says concisely, before any of them think they have the right to ask.

Eddie can’t hold your hand and you don’t think you could survive it in front of so many people, but when the game starts back up and everyone is distracted he pushes his foot behind your calf and pulls your leg toward him. There’s a smile on his face as he orchestrates the next dungeon, his pen scratching down notes you don’t understand.

He rips a page from his notebook and passes it to you covertly.

You take it and let it lie against your thighs. When you read it, you struggle to suppress a giddy smile.

Prettiest assistant ever. Think she'll let me take her out tonight?

He likes his chances.

[landhinlove]

The Don’t Worry Darling Premiere: A Summary

At the Venice Film Festival

FLORENCE BEING SO SASSY

Interviewer: “Your role is so inspiring”

Florence: “why is it inspiring?… I think it’s inspiring for a woman to say ‘no’ on and off camera”

They said she couldn’t make it to the press conference due to scheduling issues but she showed up 10 minutes after it started. The lead actress didn’t want to go to the press conference.

also these posts and the captions (Rebecca Corbin Murray is Florence’s stylist)

HARRY TAKING NOTHING SERIOUSLY

literally giggling at fans during the panel when Olivia was asked about the Shia and Florence controversy

this man did not answer a single question and he knows it (louis was spot on when he said “you do talk some shit in interviews” lmao)

Harry during the panel:

“Was that an answer? It was words.”

“what I like about acting is that I have no idea about what I’m doing”

“my favourite thing about the movie is that it feels like a movie”

During the interview with him and Chris Pine he went directly against what Olivia has said about the movie saying that it’s more misogynistic than feminist

NO ONE EXCEPT OLIVIA LOOKS LIKE THEY WANT TO BE THERE

Chris Pine is taking one for the team and being a neutral party (but still looking like he wants to leave). He was not asked many questions at all. Also he was the one to sit next to Olivia for everything

Gemma Chan was barely asked a question in the press conference and when she was she was reprimanded for being too quiet.

Harry doesn’t care at all about the panel, just talking and giggling with Gemma and the fans. He was asked the most questions of the actors and the only ones he gave a real answer for were about his fans and music

Obviously Florence doesn’t want to be there and wasn’t in the panel, but she’s also getting pushed to the side even though she’s literally the lead

REPORTERS WERE STOPPED FROM ASKING ABOUT THE SHIA AND FLORENCE THING

FLORENCE AND HARRY SLAYING WITH THE FITS

Harry giving Elton John energy with the glasses and just over all outfits. Or fruity Tony Stark.

Harry wearing a blue bandana during the press conference ;) (it’s technically a scarf but close enough)

Florence showing up in an adorable three piece purple shorts and blazer set (link)

Then she stole the show in the sparkly gown giving Marylin Monroe with the hair and diamonds

Also Gemma Chan is just one of the most gorgeous people to ever live and she slayed too of course because how could she not

Chris Pine and Nick Kroll hyped Florence up on the red carpet, taking pictures and acting like a proud dad

OLIVIA WAS IGNORED ON THE RED CARPET

Harry and Florence both went out of their way to hug everyone except Olivia, walking right past her. Neither of them talked to her, barely even looking at her

Harry stuck with talking to Gemma again, and flirting talking with Nick Kroll

When taking a picture with the whole cast, Harry’s as asked to stand next to Olivia and he refused. In this moment he also walked straight past her to fist bump Nick Kroll.

As they sat down for the movie she kept looking over trying to get Harry’s attention but he just stared straight forward or talked to Gemma

When the movie was over people only clapped for the actors, and all the actors were facing away from her and laughing with each other

Similar to Harry, Florence refused to make eye contact with Olivia when the movie audience was applauding her

HARRY AND NICK KROLL KISSED AFTER THE MOVIE. TWICE. LMAOOOOO

Olivia saw this happen and had a disgusted look on her face (link bc I can’t put any more pictures)

Edit: that not her reaction to the kiss sorry!!! Its after she was tried to get Harry’s attention and couldn’t

Also Harry and Nick 100% planned it. If you see the video they give each other a cheeky little look and go right for it. I am will to bet that Nick was like “you should just kiss me after because everyone will be expecting you to kiss her”

THE CLAPPING AFTER THE MOVIE WAS CUT SHORT BECAUSE FLORENCE LEFT

After about 3 minutes of clapping Florence started leaving and the rest of the cast followed. That’s a statement if I’ve ever seen one.

OLIVIA AND THE MOVIE ARE BEING EATEN ALIVE IN REVIEWS RIGHT NOW

(these are just a very few of the many examples)

Florence is praised for her performance, taking a bad movie and giving it her all

Harry is said to be sort of lost in the movie, not with terrible acting, just outshined by Florence’s performance. And yet it apparently still reads as a fan edit of Harry

The sex scenes that were so hyped up are supposedly very uncomfortable

So in conclusion the premiere was awkward and kind of a train wreck, as is the movie according to reviews. The actors in the movie showed up, slayed with the outfits, laughed with each other, didn’t answer a single question, not-so-subtly shaded Olivia and left.

[raitonsfw]

Idk if people usually ask for this or not, but I'd love to see sfw hc of Gojo and reader first falling in love with each other (sort of like love at first sight/meeting for both of them or smthing). It doesn't matter if it's when they're teenagers or adults 💞

synopsis: a sfw requested variety piece of gojo and reader falling in love - in this case teen!gojo and reader.

warnings: gn!reader, teen!gojo, sorcerer!reader, both are high school students, geto suguru mention, love at first sight, slight talk of violence involving curses, gojo's a bit pretentious (I mean...confident?), he's got a hat on cuz he was playing baseball prior, its short mah bad.

a/n: decided to make this a two-three parter just cuz i wanted to write teenage gojo AND adult gojo... and maybe their life after they get together in a small one shot mayhaps? wc: 600ish. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear & @firefly-graphics

•┈••✦ your teenage years were nothing short of good luck– the white haired boy staring at you from the other side of the hallway as you tried to master your cursed technique. you were stationed out in the garden area when you felt his eyes on you; practically drinking in your every move with his best friend trying to nudge him out of the way as he had stopped walking right in front of him. 

•┈••✦ he just found you so beautiful, completely in awe and he nearly bounced off the walls when he found out your name from geto suguru, the best friend who was just trying to walk down the hallway behind him. apparently you were an exchange student, from one of the sister schools– trying to hone their skills through one of the prodigy students who was supposed to be assigned to you soon.

•┈••✦ you didn’t know who was going to be; you just remember being told it was someone who was destined to be one of the greatest sorcerers of all time, so it got you a bit on edge. the classroom was empty as you waited patiently for the other student and of course, who ends up stumbling late with a backwards baseball cap on? 

•┈••✦ gojo satoru — the boy who had ogled at you in the hallway in between the glass separating you two from the space you would take up later in life together.

“Oh, it’s you!”

Your face immediately flushed red as Gojo pointed at you, the baseball falling to the floor as his jaw dropped. It bounced towards you and you caught it in your palm in a light bend, an awkward chuckle leaving you as you stood up to hand it back to him. “I beg your pardon?” 

His usual facade — the cocky student that crowded the hallways with nothing but pride spilling from his lips — had collapsed as you approached him; his breath was literally pulled from his lungs as he took in your beauty, his words suddenly feeling like lead on his tongue. You were so much prettier up close in the dewy glow that framed you– golden dripped amongst your features and it made your eyes sparkle as you looked at him, waiting for an answer. 

Suguru warned him about this– don’t make the mistake of falling in love. Or else the curses would crawl from the corners of the Earth and take what was his, bloodshed within the sharp edges of their teeth– but he was Satoru Gojo. He could handle a million curses with his stained hands if it meant he could get you to love him sincerely– or maybe just go out on a date with him?

You had noticed his eyes were brighter than you mistook through the paneled glass of the school back in the garden and it made you incredibly flustered as he basically stared you down. You knew of his clan, of everything that made him a Gojo– but you didn’t expect his eyes to be almost glowing within the midst of the breaking daylight. 

Suddenly his hand wrapped around the baseball, brushing it against your own as he plucked it from you. You swore that the clouds had stopped moving outside as you looked down at your hand absentmindedly, then back to the baseball as he threw it in the air.

You made the mistake of looking back up into his eyes that held you hostage– taking in everything that he had to offer you. His smile had you almost falling to your knees, complete with a coy endeavor as he decided to dodge your empty question, his slick demeanor taunting you because he wasn’t like this seconds ago.

“Your technique needs work. But I’m here to help you.” A flash of his perfect teeth and a wink that shrouded the blue depth of the vividness, you knew right then and there you had to make him yours. 

“I’m Satoru. Don’t bother calling me by my surname– it’ll be yours soon.” 

taglist: @izakyun | @classyempathmongercloud | @satorawrrr | @noxioustoxin | @rubyparsonx | @mirrors-musings | @faerie-soirxx | @salmonpoki

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[lichenes]

on my hands and knees begging for domestic fluff w joost. cooking together, doing livestreams, playing video games, ANYTHING plz <3

My friend read the ask and suggested the whole plot so it came out like a crack fic near the end but oh well, the sillies :D Hope you like it anon and thank you for the ask!!

CW: cursing, broken washing machines??? wc: 689

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

He walked through the door inhaling the familiar scent of your shared home. “You’re home!” You said with excitement, thrilled to see Joost. He talked to you about the latest concert, his eyes sparkling with joy when he described a huge group of people shouting the lyrics to his song alongside him. 

You were happy to finally have him back home as this was the last concert of the tour. He expressed how grateful he was for your support and couldn’t quite stop apologising for - as he called it - abandoning you for so long. You reassured him constantly hoping he would one day realise what made him happy, made you happy.

You both were too tired to do anything more than discuss things on the surface level. “You know I wouldn’t give you up for anything in the world.” He said as you both were laying in your shared bed. You nodded, constantly surprised by the level of affection he sported while extremely tired. 

You woke up well rested, finally not worrying if he was okay, he was next to you after all. “I’m doing laundry, do you need anything washed?” You said no and went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for you two. When he was done with the load he got into the kitchen and hugged you from behind inhaling your scent. 

“Missed you.” He mumbled into your neck tickling you with his breath. “Missed you too.” You were standing over the stove with a wooden spoon stirring the scrambled eggs. Joost thought proved to be a severe distraction. “I need to focus on the task at hand, Joost.” He let his gorgeous laugh out. “I knoww~ but I didn’t have much time to spend with you and I need you now.” Your face got warmer at those words. “You’ve got me all to yourself lovely.” You said this time making his fair skin turn a shade of red. 

He stopped hugging you and opted instead to set the table. It was quite small but enough for both of you to dine. He made sure to give you your favourite glass. You served the food up. He commented on how tasty it was despite it being only eggs and salt. “It’s hard to fuck up scrambled eggs.” You said with a slight jest in your voice. He laughed and continued. “But it’s not impossible!” 

You went into the living room of your apartment after he was done with washing the dishes and you were done drying them. Your day was spent laying in bed and watching some stupid series full of cheesy jokes which were just cringey enough to make both your stomachs hurt from the laughter. At some point you stood up and went into the bathroom.

Your socks were met with a wet floor which you didn’t expect. Suddenly you realised what was going on. “Joost!” You shouted, calling him over. “What’s up?” He walked right into the puddle. “The washing machine malfunctioned… grab some cloths.” He nodded and walked up to the closet and pulled out some, handing it to you with a smile on his face to cheer you up before the work you both were going to do soon. 

Unfortunately you didn’t catch the malfunction in time which meant the floor panels lifted due to the moisture they absorbed. Renovations were long overdue and you were planning on changing up the floors anyway you told yourself when you saw the panels literally de-gluing themselves from the floor. 

You decided on a herringbone style of floors this time opting to lay them yourselves, after all how hard could it be? You bought raw planks and let Joost lay his heart out. You loved seeing him work all stuck in his own world. He weatherproofed the planks after cutting them up into size appropriate pieces and made your home look brand new with the shining new floors. 

“You did a great job baby.” You said when he came over excited to show you his work. “We should monitor our washing machine better next time though, we wouldn’t want to ruin these gorgeous floors.” 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────• masterlist

[fluffyartbl0g]

Redraw of the panels that SHATTERED MY HEART o(；△；)o!!! OG panels + Opinions on the Luffy separation arc under read more

Okay let me just go on a tangent about my feelings about the post-series Luffy separation arc, cause I think it gets way too much hate when it’s such a heartbreaking and well executed deviation from oda’s standard formula!!! I know that we all love monkey d. luffy and he’s LITERALLY the main character of the series, but it was also really nice to get more time to focus on the rest of the crew. But here’s the thing, even when Luffy wasn’t here, he was still here. And I’m not talking about the so called ‘blessings’ or whatever that kept SUSPICIOUSLY popping up around the crew when Luffy disappeared, I’m talking about the consequences that arised from him disappearing. We truly got to see how grand the effect luffy has had on the world around him, and how many lives he was able to touch ; - ; So even though luffy physically wasn’t present (I mean KIND OF but you know what I mean), this was still VERY MUCH a luffy arc imo. 

Oh man but I think Oda wrote luffy’s disappearance so well,,, I was sobbing for like 80 percent of this arc. Like just gradually seeing the crew’s deterioration as time passes by,,, but everyone has such unwavering faith in their captain, he HAS to come back cause Luffy always comes back. But here’s the thing, Luffy didn’t know what was happening to him when he started disappearing. But what he DID know is that he wasn’t sure if he was gonna be able to come back or not. And Luffy hates breaking promises- he’d never make a promise if he didn’t plan to keep it, and he’s not an idiot either, so when he just felt himself disappearing and saw zoro nearby... Instead of saying something like “I’ll be back!” and potentially making his crewmates wait for him forever, he tells zoro to “take care of the crew”... SOBBING AND CRYING T - T. So YES. the crew has unwavering faith in their captain. But. Luffy didnt say that he’d be coming back or anything. So what are they supposed to do really.

And it’s really hard to read at some parts, like it never loses the goofy tone that has been there throughout all of one piece and it’s really sweet to see everyone rely on each other to keep one another afloat, but the slight tension that keeps building up over the months while they keep looking for clues and answers... And how each lead keeps becoming a dead end... When it builds up and Usopp finally voices the thing that’s on everyone’s mind.

Oh man. I started crying so hard. It took 6 month for any one of them to say something. Like this is One piece. Of course Luffy is gonna come back eventually, it would be waay too dark otherwise... But Idk man, even I started to doubt that :((( But luckily. THIS IS ONE PIECE. So right after everyone started,,, well not exactly losing hope or anything (maybe a bit)? but going BATSHIT INSANE FROM THE REALITY THAT THEIR CAPTAIN MIGHT BE GONE FOR GOOD, they finally got a solid actual clue of what might’ve happened to luffy!!! And I’m SO GLADDDD!!!!

Omg and when they tracked down the pray-pray no mi user and finally got some answers out of him. OMG WAIT A MOMENT I REALLY LIKED IS WHEN PRIEST GUY IS LIKE “urerheg without luffy up there as a god the entire world may very well be destroyed cause the sun has been super unstable for centuries blah blah” and then Nami freaking PUMMELED THE GUY AND SHOVED HIM DOWN WITH HER STAFF AND

SOBBING CRYING SOBBING. THEY WOULD POTENTIALLY BLOW UP THE ENTIRE WORLD IF IT MEANT THAT THEIR CAPTAIN WOULDNT HAVE TO BE LONELY ; - ; KILL ME.

URGH I was really hoping that Luffy would return right once they beat him up cause I really really missed my boy, but honestly I think the final method of getting Luffy to return was super clever and absolutely worth the extra 3 weeks of waiting!!! I know that it was foreshadowed across the whole West Blue Saga and everything but I honestly had no clue it would end like that, DONT MAKE FUN OF ME :(((

When the crew finally got their captain back after 8 months of waiting... I mean they’ve been separated before for even longer periods of time, but they always knew that they’d be back together. This time they didn’t know. BUT AREHAHRGE ALL THE PAIN AND SUFFERING WAS SO WORTHIT WHEN THEY ALL FINALLY REUNITED T - T!!!!!! UWAHHWHAHWUAAGGHA!!! AND SEEING ALL THEIR ALLIES AND FRIENDS THEYVE MADE JUST CHEER AND CRY WHEN THEY HEAR THE NEWS!!!! I WOULD CHUCK ALL THE PANELS HERE IF I COULD BUT ID JUS T REACH THE IMAGE LIMIT BECAUSE ALL OF THEM MADE ME CRY ; - ;!!! Literally just read those 5 chapters in the arc finale cause,,,, man so good T - T

Anyways TLDR: The post-series luffy seperation arc is NOT BAD and you guys are JUST COWARDS AND LIARS!!!!

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - chapter nine (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter nine: too little too late

chapter summary: you probably would have preferred the cold shoulder. yunho and mingi find out about your heat, and things get harder.

warnings: this chapter is a pain train. no other warnings except angst and consistent references to heat and all that goes with that.

notes: i'm SO glad you all enjoyed chapter eight!! it was a fun one. please enjoy the moment many of you have been waiting for..... yungi's return and everything that comes with that. good luck because oof our y/n is going through it.

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 6.3k

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3

You expect to see them immediately when you walk into the studio a little early on Monday but it’s painfully empty. The back office door is shut and locked tight, so you know Yunho hasn’t been in yet and if he’s not here, neither is Mingi. It feels familiar, and you’re starting to wonder if every heat is going to end with them throwing a tantrum. 

“You just going to stand there?” Wooyoung’s voice nearly knocks you sideways and you jump in your shoes. 

“Don’t do that!” You spin on your heel and smack his shoulder. 

“You’re literally staring at a door,” Wooyoung levels you with a look, “I’m trying to pull you back down to reality so you can make it through this stupid day,” 

“Fine,” You sigh, “I guess… I don’t know, do I look okay?” 

He rolls his eyes, “You know you do,” 

“I just don’t want,” You start but the sound of the heavy back door to the studio startles you once again and your heart lands squarely in your throat when you see them. 

They barely look at you. A swift, fast glance, just enough for you to know they’ve seen you. Your hands suddenly feel slick and clammy and your stomach starts churning immediately. 

“Hey,” Wooyoung steps around you to grab their attention and break the sudden awkward tension in the hall, “did anyone ever call to get the lights in Studio 3 fixed?” 

Yunho blinks, almost confused by his words but then he recovers, “Uh, no, I thought they were fixed already,” 

“Out again,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “I think it’s electrical if the bulbs keep blowing,” 

Mingi listens for a moment, but the moment he’s sure this conversation has nothing for him he simply says, “I’ll catch you guys later,” and then he’s pushing past the two of them to cut down the hallway. 

He doesn’t look at you at all. 

Yunho watches him go and then refocuses on Wooyoung, “I’ll call someone,” he says, “is it the whole back panel again?” 

“I’ll show you,” Wooyoung gestures down the hall, throwing a fast glance at you that communicates so much with just one flick of his eyes - Don’t follow, you’re welcome, you owe me. 

As Yunho turns away from you to follow Wooyoung down the hallway you mouth a thank you and watch them go. The cold shoulder you can deal with, you’re almost too practiced with that at this point, so at least you can breathe a little easier and get back to work. 

You bottle it all right back up, and even though the day has been terrible and long and awkward, you know that San’s right. It’s your studio too. You’ve missed things being out for your leave and you have to catch up quickly to stay an unshakeable member of this group. All you have to do is focus on the work. 

You know you probably have to talk to them at some point, but you really didn’t think it would be today of all days. You thought they’d go back to the way it was before, an entire day of their tense glances communicated that clearly. But suddenly Mingi’s in front of you while you’re tucked up on the computer in the corner of one of the studios rewatching a cut of today’s practice and you know it’s going to be now, now or never.

“So, you’re good?” He asks suddenly, a little starting since you had expected him to just pass you by without a word, just like the rest of the day behind you. 

“What?” You manage, swiveling around in your chair. 

“You’re good?” He asks again, but his face is blank, passive. 

You open your mouth to answer but Yunho’s voice from the side has your head snapping towards it. 

“Mingi,” Yunho’s voice is firm, “let’s go.” 

“One sec,” Mingi doesn’t look away from you. 

“I said let’s go,” Yunho shakes his head. 

“Hey,” Mingi starts and then Yunho looks at you. 

“Can you lock up if you’re not leaving?” He asks, jaw tightening as soon as the words are out of his mouth. 

“Sure,” You manage. 

“Mingi, let’s go.” Yunho’s attention leaves you instantly, and you’ve never felt more invisible to him. 

“Bro,” Mingi shakes his head, “can you fuck off for one second?” 

“No, I’m getting in the car, do you want a ride or not?” Yunho’s jaw jumps in frustration. 

Mingi mutters something under his breath and then meets your eyes again, “y/n,” 

“Yeah?” You’re so overwhelmingly confused. 

“I said, are you good?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be good?” Your brows draw together. 

Mingi shuts his mouth tightly, his hands forming loose fists and then he nods once, “Fine,” 

“What’s going on with you two?” Your eyes dart between them, the anger in the room so palpable. They’ve been cold, they’ve been passive, but they’ve never, ever been angry with you. Not like this. 

There’s a long beat of silence and then finally Yunho speaks, “Are you serious?” 

“What?” 

“You disappear for three days,” Yunho drops his gym bag and looks to you, “and you can’t even answer a single fucking text message, and you want to know what’s going on with us?” 

Your stomach clenches hard, his dark eyes boring into you now and you need him to look away. “I was on heat leave,” You say clearly, “you got the paperwork, I know you did.” 

They’re both silent. 

“Look,” You sigh, and it’s already harder to maintain the wall than you thought it would be, “I’m sorry I didn’t text you back, that was shitty, but I was a little preoccupied,” 

Yunho grimaces. 

“Yunho, jesus,” You push yourself up off the chair and take a few steps towards them, “I don’t know what you want from me,” 

“We were worried,” Mingi offers, and his voice is still low and firm, but his words at least are a little kinder. 

“Well, I appreciate that, but I was fine.” 

Yunho huffs, and you can almost see him fighting an eye roll. Anger bubbles inside you at their entitlement over you and your time and you can’t stop your mouth or your hot head now. 

“Seriously,” You square your shoulders towards him, “Yunho, we’re friends so I feel like I can say this, but you’re acting like an asshole right now.” 

“I’m acting like an asshole?” His voice gets sharp at the end, anger radiating in him. 

“Yes!” You push farther into his space, “Sharing a heat together doesn’t mean I owe you something,” 

His jaw jumps at your words. 

“No one’s saying that,” Mingi cuts in immediately, physically pushing between you both and holding his hands up. 

“Tell that to him,” You nod towards Yunho. 

Yunho stays silent. 

Mingi keeps his hands up, “Listen,” he catches your eyes, “no one’s angry. We just didn’t hear from you for three days, we didn’t know if you were somewhere safe. That’s all.” 

“Well, I was,” You assure him, “I had everything handled, I’m back on my suppressants,” 

“I know,” Mingi nods, and you suppose he would be able to tell, with your scent dampened. 

“What about onboarding?” Yunho pipes in and you crane around Mingi to see him. His cheeks are flushed pink, and you can see how frustrated he is, but he tries to ask this question a bit more softly. 

“What about it?” You give him one more chance, just one. 

Yunho clears his throat and says again, “Onboarding. Mingi said it can be a lot, like before,” 

“I had it covered,” You assure him. 

“I just thought,” Yunho shifts from foot to foot, trying to find his words, “I thought maybe if it was as hard as before you’d be out of it, and I, I don’t know,” 

You want to be mad at him, you really do, but that part of his fear makes sense to you. When you think about your time with them and how much you don’t quite remember perfectly, how hard it was to make it home, you get it. 

“Honestly,” You exhale, relaxing the tension a bit, “I am sorry I didn’t text you back. I can understand why you were worried,” 

His shoulders relax with yours, “I’m sorry too,” 

You can’t say it’s okay, but you nod, glancing up to Mingi who’s seemed to soften up a bit too. There’s a long beat between you and finally Mingi asks, “So, we’re good?” 

“Yeah,” You nod, “we’re good,” 

Yunho nods and agrees, “I am really sorry, I really was just worried about you,” 

“I know,” You nod, “I think I should have just texted you, but I didn’t know what to say,” 

“Yeah,” Mingi laughs a little, just a huff and he runs his hand through his short hair, “that’s fair,” 

You smile too and press your hands to your cheeks for a little cool relief, letting out a long sigh as the tension starts to release. It could end here, they could say goodbye and goodnight and you could finish up and then it would be over, but when Yunho shifts and glances between the two of you, you know immediately it won’t be so simple. 

“Well,” Yunho clears his throat, “next time if you’d rather not be alone, you know, I think we’ve done pretty good at staying friends,” 

“Oh,” Your heart feels like it might just fall straight out of your chest, “Yunho, I,” 

“It was weird for a couple of weeks,” He adds, “but,” 

You know you just have to say it, you have to get it out of your mouth before you can’t, and the words bubble up sharp and sudden, “I wasn’t alone,” 

“You weren’t?” Mingi’s brows shoot up. 

Yunho falls silent, ears running dark pink. 

“No,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t,” 

“Of course you weren’t,” Yunho manages, “sorry, that was… I don’t know why I assumed,” 

“Probably because I told you that’s what I normally do,” You soften, “so I understand why you were worried, but I’m telling you that I was fine, taken care of,” 

He asks it like he can’t help himself, the word falling right off his tongue, “Who?” 

You take a half step back, shaking your head, “Yunho, no,” 

“Why not? We’re friends,” Mingi rationalizes. 

They suddenly look so much like jealous lovers you can’t breathe. Something deep in your gut must have been right all along about them, and you don’t know why you can’t stop making this same mistake over and over again. Your biology must really want you to fall for a guy like this but as harsh as the twist in your gut feels, you push it back, refusing to submit. 

“No,” You turn on your heel, “I’m leaving,” 

Hands on your arms pull you back and twist you around in Mingi’s hold, “Fuck,” he says, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that was so out of line,” 

“You don’t get to ask, okay?” You push him off, putting a foot of distance between you. 

“I know that, we know that,” Mingi nods, holding your gaze and trying to diffuse whatever this conversation has become, “it was stupid, forget it,” 

Yunho moves closer, stopping by Mingi’s side to give you the same distance, “Completely stupid, I’m sorry,” 

You’re already so sick of them apologizing, but you swallow tightly and try to let it go, “Okay,”

“Only,” Yunho pauses, debating on whether or not he should say this and your breath catches in your throat, “only, why didn’t you call us?” 

“What?” You can barely believe him. 

“You don’t have to tell us anything,” Yunho says, looking quickly at Mingi who nods, “I just… I thought you would have called us, and when I saw the paperwork and you didn’t answer I thought maybe something happened.”

The stretching silence between you is crushing you. A flare of anger bubbles in your belly, “You said my heat before was a one time thing.” 

“I never said that.” 

“You did,” You shake your head, and now you just can’t stop the words, “and you know what, Yunho? Maybe this wouldn’t have been so hard and confusing if you didn’t treat me like I was invisible for weeks after we had sex,” 

“You were avoiding me too,” His tongue is quick when he’s angry and you can almost see the regret in his eyes but he doubles down, “both of us.” 

“I’m not going to listen to this,” You cheeks flare with angry blush, “I’m done. We work together, that’s it. I don’t know what you want from me, I’ll get whiplash if you keep-”

Your words die on your tongue, your back connecting with the hard studio wall behind you. You don’t see Mingi coming, your eyes steady on Yunho and you’re about to throw up your hands and leave again when Mingi collides into you, his lips on yours. 

“Mingi!” You squeak against his mouth. 

“Please,” He pleads, shaking his head.  

His body feels so good you might lose your mind entirely. His plush mouth stays on yours, tongue dipping between your lips to flick along yours. His scent envelops you, his hot hands holding you against him, and you melt into him as your body responds to him. He kisses like you’re his only lifeline, messy and hungry and pouring desperation into you ounce by ounce. Your hand tightens on his back. He hitches your leg up onto his hip, pressing your body open for him to slot between your legs. 

Your eyes stay shut as he kisses his way down your jaw, nipping along your skin until his mouth is on your throat, ghosting softly over your pulsepoint. Your mind is spinning, flooded hot, everything falling away and then it all stops. 

Mingi stiffens, body locking up and you hear him take a deep inhale of breath. He rocks back away from you, “Seonghwa?” 

“What?” Yunho’s voice re-enters the mix. 

Mingi steps away from you and you brace your body against the wall, finding your feet under you and trying to catch your breath, “Don’t,” 

“I’m right,” Mingi’s face knits up in confusion, his fists tighten, “fuck,” 

Yunho looks stricken. 

“You slept with Seonghwa?” Mingi repeats.

“Don’t,” You repeat, anger curling inside you and you push off the wall, “we’re friends and maybe I should have texted you, but that’s all we are, you made that perfectly fucking clear after my heat. You don’t get to treat me like I cheated or try to mark your fucking territory,” You scrub your hand across your throat where Mingi kissed you, where he let his tongue linger. 

“We’re not together,” You reiterate, “we’re not in love, or soulmates, or scent matches, or whatever the fuck else people say. We had sex, that’s it.” 

The words are out there, dropped between you like lead and you realize coldly somewhere in the back of your mind, you can never take that back. 

Yunho and Mingi stand stock still at the grenade dropped between you, but then Yunho shifts forwards one step with a tight inhalation of breath.

“That’s not all it was for me,” He manages, and when you meet his eyes your resolve nearly, nearly crumbles. 

“Whatever you feel for me isn’t real, it’s biology,” You shake your head, trying to catch your breath and keep your words straight. If they loved you before they would have come to you then, you just have to hold onto that truth. 

“Don’t tell me what I feel,” Yunho looks away from you, his hands tight, “don’t patronize me.” 

“This is why we should have never,” You shake your head, looking at Mingi like you might see a scrap of reason in his eyes, but you see nothing, pure passive inattention like he’s shut down and left the conversation. 

“y/n,” Yunho shakes his head, “I’m not some lovesick virgin,” 

“I know that,” You sigh, “I didn’t mean,” 

“You did,” Yunho interrupts, “and if you don’t feel the same about us, just say it.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You feel like you’ve entered an entirely different narrative, “You said you wanted to be friends, isn’t that what we are?”

“Friends don’t kiss like that,” Mingi admits gruffly. 

“You kissed me,” You manage. 

“y/n,” Mingi says softly, “I felt it, the way you kissed me back, touched me… there’s something there,” 

“Is that what this is about?” Your jaw tightens, “You think I’m yours?” 

Mingi’s jaw snaps shut, muscles jumping. 

Yunho shakes his head, bringing you back to his eyes, “No,” he sighs, “but,” 

“But what?” You won’t cry, not here, “You’re perfectly fine treating me like I’m invisible until another alpha gets a little too close? I’m a person! A whole entire person, I’m not an omega for you to… to…” 

“I know that!” Yunho exclaims, “I like you. We like you, it has nothing to do with designation,” 

“That’s the most naive sentence I’ve ever heard,” You take a step back, away, closer to the mirrored wall, “if that were true why didn’t you say anything weeks ago?” 

“I didn’t know then,” He insists, looking to Mingi for help but finding none in his vacant eyes. 

“That’s what I’m saying,” You sigh, exasperated, “you’re just realizing it now? Right when I spend my heat with another alpha? You’re confused.” 

“It’s not confusion,” Mingi says simply, “we’re not stupid.” 

“So, you both have feelings for me? Is that what you’re saying?” You bite back, and you clench your fist tight. You won’t cry.

They say nothing, silence filling the room like smoke and you need to get out. 

“After we spent that time together,” You take a steadying breath, “I missed you both so much it hurt. All the time. I would convince myself not to come to your place and knock on the door and… and I don’t know what I wanted. I thought about you all the time, and the things you said and did for me. I missed you so much it made me sick,” 

“Then,” Yunho starts, his voice small but you shake your head. 

“But you didn’t want me,” You insist, “you spent weeks making sure I knew it. Every day you wouldn’t look at me, you wouldn’t talk to me, I’ve never felt so small.”

Mingi’s eyes cloud and he drops his head. 

“And it was hard, but the things I felt for you went away,” You press, despite the tightness in your chest, “with a little time and space, it went away. I know you both care about me, and I care about you, but you don’t love me.” 

“I don’t accept that,” Yunho shakes his head, moving forwards before you can process it, his arms around you as he tucks you into his chest, “how can you say that when this feels the way it does?” 

Your head throbs with the scent of him, washing through you and making your limbs go soft and your heartbeat slow to a stutter instead of a pounding thump, but your brain clicks back into place and you wriggle in his arms, “Let me go,” 

He leans away, cupping your cheek in his hand to draw your face up to his gaze, “Don’t you?” He manages, voice cracking gently. 

You’re dizzy, mind flooded and confused, but you try, “I don’t,” 

His thumb strokes a gentle line over your cheekbone, shifting just a little closer, “y/n,”

“Yunho,” You manage, your voice shaking as you try to stay level, “if you kiss me now, there’s nothing for us.” 

His brow creases as he studies your eyes, exhaling an unsteady breath. 

“I’ll go, I’ll find another studio.” You grip your hand tight and let your nails dig into your soft palm, “I need you to let me go, please, let me go,” 

His arms fall away, and he takes two sizable steps back, running a hand through his hair, “After everything, that’s it?” 

“It has to be,” Your eyes feel prickly, “I’ve moved on. I need you both to do the same. Find someone else, another omega. I know you think you want me, but it’s just your alphas talking. And maybe we could have been more than this, but you hurt me, you both did, and I’ve moved on.” 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Mingi manages. 

“No,” You shake your head, “you shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry,” His voice is small. 

“This,” Yunho tries to say something, but his voice is thick with emotion and he clears his throat, words dying on his lips. 

“I’m sorry too,” You finally add, “and I thought we could go back to being friends, but this, it hurts too much.” 

“What do we do?” Yunho asks, voice hollow. 

“I need some space,” You swallow tightly, “we’ll do the work, but that’s it. If we ever have a shot at being friends someday, at feeling like this isn’t always there… that’s what I need, and maybe we can fix this.”

“Okay,” Mingi says. 

“Tour,” Yunho takes a deep breath, and you realize now that he has tears flooding his eyes that he’s doing his best to blink away, “we’ll be gone for months,” 

He’s right, in a matter of weeks they’ll be gone with a small group of the BB Trippin dance crew to Europe. You have your focus here with the newly debuting group alongside Dahan and Yujin, but they don’t, they’re leaving with New World and it would be almost three full months until they’d be back in Korea. 

“Good,” You breathe, ignoring the pit forming in your stomach at the thought of not seeing them, “then let’s just get through the next few weeks, but after that you go. Don’t text me, don’t call me, just… move on.” 

Silence stretches, but Yunho nods. 

If you stay here for one more minute you’re going to cry, “I have to go,” 

He nods again. 

There’s more to say, you can feel it, but you can’t do it now and you have to push yourself to get out the door. You push past them as quickly as you can, eyes on the door in front of you, but Yunho follows behind and catches you once more in the hall. 

“y/n,” He doesn’t touch you, but calls after you in the hall, but you don’t turn around you can’t. If you look at him one more time you’ll cry, you’ll go back, you’ll throw all the things you said to the side just to feel his arms around you one more time or Mingi’s lips on yours and you can’t. You have to be better than this, for yourself. 

You stop though and turn your head just a little to let him know you’re listening. 

“I’m,” His voice tightens and hitches, “I’m really fucking sorry we lost you,” 

Hot tears overflow at his words, spilling over down your cheeks and you drop your head and nod. You grip your hands tighter and steady yourself and hope to god that your voice will hold up, “Me too,” 

He takes a tight, wet inhale and you have to move, one more second in this hallway and you’ll want nothing more than to comfort him, to soothe your alpha and smooth this moment over, but the latent thought of him as yours strikes panic in your chest and you push forward down the hall.

You round the corner at the end by the office, and the image of him coming out of the doorway that first night won’t leave you alone, the way he softened when he saw you in heat, the way he took you in his arms. 

You stifle a sob with your hand over your lips, and then you’re running. Out of here, away from this, and you don’t know where you’re going until you get there, every step a blur. 

You knock fast on San’s door, and you feel bad about crashing their night, but you can barely breathe and you need to see a friendly face or you just might fall apart. You had gotten your tears under control on your way over, out of sheer embarrassment that you were crying in the middle of the street, but tightness gathers in your throat now as you wait for an answer to the door and pins prick the back of your eyes. 

You hear shuffling on the opposite side of the door, a hand on the knob, and tears spill over already. 

San’s smiling when he opens the door, looking over his shoulder back into the main living space and finishing saying something to Wooyoung who’s inside, and your breath hitches. 

His eyes settle on you, “y/n?” His face falls as he sees your tears, “What?” 

“S-San,” Your tears rush faster, your words cut off in a sob and you launch yourself forwards to collide with his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder, sobs wracking yours. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” He stumbles back, wrapping his arms around you, “what’s going on?” 

“y/n’s here?” Wooyoung’s voice comes from the side and you can’t stop yourself from crying harder. 

“I need you to breathe,” San soothes you, his voice low, “I need you to tell me what happened,” 

You shake your head into his neck, hiccuping as you do. 

“Are you hurt?” He presses, one of his hands sliding up your sides to search your body, “I need you to talk to me,” 

You drag in a shaky breath, but Wooyoung sees you now and jumps forwards, “Is she hurt?” 

“Woo,” San interrupts him, “hang on, okay, just,” 

“I’m,” You clear your throat, “I’m not hurt,”

San exhales heavily, relieved at your words and nods, cupping the back of your head, “Alright, just breathe,” 

“What the hell happened?” Wooyoung says. 

“I know as much as you do,” San says, “just grab her stuff and let’s get inside,” 

“Yeah,” You hear Wooyoung moving, picking up your bag from the floor outside his apartment door, and then you hear it click shut. 

“y/n,” San tries again as you try to get your breathing under control, “can you tell me what happened?” 

“I t-talked to Yunho and Mingi,” You murmur wetly into his shirt. 

“What the fuck did those idiots do?” Wooyoung’s hand settles between your shoulder blades as he shifts closer to try and catch your eyes. 

“It’s a mess,” You manage. 

“Woo,” San says softly, “get her a glass of water,” 

“But,” Wooyoung starts. 

“Go.” San insists. 

Wooyoung’s hand leaves you. 

“y/n,” San says, “come inside and sit down,”

You peel yourself away from him, covering your face immediately as tears continue to roll down your cheeks, but San steers you inside with a warm arm until you’re sinking down onto the couch. 

“Water,” Wooyoung says, holding an icy cold glass in his hand and taking his spot on the extended length of the sectional so he can angle towards you and see your face, “drink this,” 

He presses the glass into your hands and you take a shaky sip, the cold shocking your brain a little as you try to get a little more down. 

San tugs the coffee table a little closer and takes a seat on the wood top and then leans forward to catch your eyes, elbows resting on his knees, “Can you tell us what happened?” 

You sigh deeply and then recover your breath, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, “They know,” 

“About this weekend?” San surmises. 

“Just Seonghwa,” You clarify, taking another sip of water, “they were so angry, I didn't want to tell them the rest,” 

“Fucking assholes,” Wooyoung curses, his jaw tightening as he looks away. 

“What else?” San’s voice is gentle, so unlike confident alpha tone you had gotten used to, “You can tell us,” 

“They… I mean, Yunho… he said that they,” The words get jumbled in your mind as you flash back to the studio room, “it’s all so fucked, they’re acting like this is…”

“Babe,” Wooyoung plucks the glass from your hands and passes it to San, returning his hands to yours so he can steady your shakes, “you’re not making a lot of sense, and I’m about two seconds from driving over to their place and castrating them. I need you to please tell me they didn’t do anything stupid,” 

“Youngie,” San sighs, exasperated. 

You shake your head, “No,” you manage, “they have feelings for me, they said… when they found out about my heat they were so…”

“Now?” Wooyoung’s eyebrows go high, “Now they have feelings for you?” 

“That’s basically what I said,” Your lips turn up in the smallest smile. 

“What else?” San cuts through the commentary. 

“If they had said something, anything weeks ago,” You trail off. 

“They didn’t though,” San reminds you, “and that’s on them. Not on you.” 

“So you fought?” Wooyoung surmises. 

You wipe your eyes again and nod, “It was awful,” 

“I’m sorry,” Wooyoung takes your hands in his, smoothing his thumbs over the back of your knuckles, “We all knew they might be upset, we shouldn’t have left you alone,” 

“I handled it,” You shake your head, the telltale feeling of a migraine coming on in the back of your skull from how many tears you’ve shed, “I… just - I don’t know why this is so hard,” 

San shifts forwards, cupping your cheek in his hand and soothing you, “How about you stay over tonight? We can order some takeout and just forget about this for now,” 

“I’ve got soju if you need a drink,” Wooyoung adds, “whatever you need, we’re here,” 

“I just want to know what to do,” You push San’s hands away and drag your fingers through your hair, “it shouldn’t be this hard,” 

“How did you leave it?” Wooyoung asks gently, hand on your knee. 

Yunho’s words in the hallway strike back through your chest, but you shake your head, “Kind of terribly,” 

“Okay,” He prompts you for a little more. 

“I told them to go on tour and to not contact me so we can get some space,” You say it in a single breath and then you duck your head in your hands again. 

“Damn,” Wooyoung grimaces. 

“I know,” You sniff back fresh tears, “maybe I should have stayed, but, I just… I couldn’t,” 

“y/n,” San pulls your hands down and takes them in his, smoothing his thumbs over the soft hollows of your palms, “you did the right thing. Space is good,” 

“Is it?” You said it, and in the moment you believed it, but months without speaking to them feels like torture. 

“It’s good,” He nods, wiping away your tears, “you need time to figure out how you feel and they need time to do the same. You’re never going to be able to get it if you’re working on top of each other every day,” 

You let San’s words sink in and you know he’s right. All of the talking and the not talking with them up to this point had just left your relationship a jumbled mess. Time away could fix this. You knew it deep in your gut in the studio as you backed out the door and you know it now. 

With a deep breath you scrub your hands under your eyes to clear away the last remnants of tears and any smudged mascara and you nod, “Woo,” you face him, “where’s that soju?” 

“On it,” He grins, “I know exactly what you need,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” Wooyoung hops up and heads for San’s kitchen, “Beer, soju, and junk food. I’m making chapagetti,” 

You groan, knowing exactly what your body is going to feel like tomorrow.

“At least put some protein on it,” San calls back, “for the love of god,” 

“Sannie,” Wooyoung says, his head clearly in the fridge at the muffled tone, “just let me work my magic,” 

“Mhm,” San shakes his head. 

“I’m going to be so hungover tomorrow aren’t I?” 

“Definitely,” San laughs, “but you can crash here, we’ll take care of you.” 

You nod, knowing they absolutely will. 

When Wooyoung hands you the cold glass of beer and the shot you clink your glass with him and knock it back in sync and for a little while you put it all out of your mind. 

It isn’t until later, in the safe darkness of San’s bedroom with your best friends on either side of you, that you feel like the words might make it out of your mouth without it all ending around you. The alcohol in your system has started to dissipate, leaving you exhausted and a little heavy feeling, but your thoughts are starting to stitch back together and you just have to tell them. 

You’re snuggled tight to Wooyoung’s chest, your forehead pressed to his sternum, San behind you but not really touching you, just laying on his back and staying close enough to give you the comfort of another body. You can’t stop replaying it, seeing them when they realized you had been with not just someone else but someone they knew. 

You don’t know what possesses you, but in the darkness you murmur, “Mingi kissed me,” 

Wooyoung’s breathing hitches for just a moment as he registers your words, but he recovers cleanly, his fingers just running over your hair again and again, “When?” 

“Tonight,” You shift, pushing yourself to lie on your back between the two of them, “I think he was trying to show me he meant it,”

They let your words sit there for a moment, and then Wooyoung turns to look at you, “How do you feel about it?” 

“Stupid,” You exhale, answering honestly, “really fucking stupid,” 

“Why?” San props up on one arm, hand on his cheek and brow furrowed as he looks down at you. 

You feel the outline of his mouth on yours again, his hands and how they held you, how much he poured into one moment just to get you to understand. “Because,” You answer, “all I could think about was how much I missed him,” 

“y/n,” Wooyoung murmurs, “do you think they meant it? That their feelings are real?” 

“Maybe,” You say, “but the timing,” 

“Yeah,” 

“And besides,” You shake your head, “I said some things I shouldn’t have,” 

“Like?” San asks. 

“I told them they fucked it up,” You blink back tears, “and that we weren’t soulmates and that they’re wrong,” 

“Oh,” San says, “that’s direct,” 

“I know,” You groan, dropping your hands over your eyes, “I was just so angry,” 

“Space will be good then,” Wooyoung offers, “you all need a breather.” 

“There’s no easy way to work together when that’s how you left it,” San points out, “so time away gives you all a chance to rethink some things and get some clarity,” 

“What if,” The words die in your throat. 

“What?” San nudges you. 

“What if they come back and nothing’s fixed,” You sigh, “what if it’s worse?” 

“You won’t know it until it happens,” San takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, “you can’t control everything, y/n, sometimes you just have to let things work out.” 

You nod, and then you ask the question you’ve been afraid of since you walked out the studio door, “Should I have just stayed? If… if they do have feelings for me, and they’re real, should I have just stayed?” 

“It would have been easier,” Wooyoung murmurs, “but babe, you’d still have the same questions,” 

“Yeah,” You breathe, stomach in knots.

“Tour is soon,” San reminds you, “you got through weeks of the cold shoulder last time, you can do this,” 

You nod. 

“It’s late,” Wooyoung comments. 

“I know,” You murmur. 

“It’s going to be okay,” San says, “I know it will.”

“You’re right,” You breathe, “I just think it shouldn’t be this hard, if we were meant to work out, shouldn’t it be easier than this?” 

They’re quiet for a moment and then San sighs, “Probably,” 

Wooyoung turns and looks at him, his lips closing before he shrugs and rolls towards you, snuggling up to your side. 

“What?” You nudge him, reading through his silence. 

“Nothing,” He says. 

“Woo,” You nudge him harder. 

“I just think you shouldn’t close any doors,” 

“Mm,” 

“I’m just saying,” He wraps an arm around your middle, “take the break from them, see how you feel later. You’re overthinking this,”

San drags his thumb over your knuckles and Wooyoung shifts closer, resting his head on your shoulder. The quiet stretches around you as you take in his words. He might be right, but you can’t think about that now. Not with the day you’ve had and the headache behind your eyes. 

The fight plays over and over again in your mind every time you close your eyes, a loop of Mingi’s mouth on yours and Yunho’s eyes shining with tears. The feeling of their hands on you, begging you to stay. The look on their faces when they realized you had sought out another alpha for your heat, and not just any, but one of their best friends. You wonder what might have changed had you texted them back, who you might have met at the studio today instead. 

That’s not all it was for me. 

A little piece of you wishes you could take back everything you said. 

[nightwings-robin]

If Jason is responsible for the death of Felipe Garzonas then Bruce is equally as responsible for the death of Felipe's father, José.

I've seen so many arguments and counter-arguments about whether or not Jason actually pushed that guy off of a building to his death, but I have literally never seen anyone talk about the very next issue which involves his father blaming Jason regardless. I didn't know this was a thing that ever happened in the comics until I started reading them in earnest.

This event is often talked about as a defining moment in Jason's time as Robin (and it is) but I think this little arc actually says a lot more about Bruce and fan's interpretations of Jason's actions than it does about Jason himself.

Like just look at this panel from Batman (1940) #425:

Batman is on top of a pile of cars, José shoots at Batman, the tower of cars falls down on top of José and he dies. It's sort of an accident but then Bruce goes on to imply that this guy's death is also Jason's fault:

Bruce is saying here that actions have consequences - the name of this issue is even titled "Consequences" - but the way he says it to Jason implies that these are the consequences of Jason's actions. In Bruce's mind, Jason "killed" Felipe, so his father wanted to get revenge and ended up killed as well. Bruce lays both of these deaths at Jason's feet but I don't think that's totally fair to Jason.

Regardless of whether or not Jason really did kill Felipe, José Garzonas believes Robin is responsible. This sets off a chain of events that leads to José's death. And one could argue that Bruce is actually the one responsible for Garzonas' death as he was the one on top of the tower of cars that falls and crushes Garzonas. I find it interesting that Bruce doesn't hold himself responsible for that, even though it's an accident. He seems to blame Jason for this death that he himself had a hand in because he seems to blame Jason for Felipe's death that started this all.

Maybe Bruce doesn't even think that Jason pushed Felipe off of that building and that he really was just "spooked" off. But Bruce still blames Jason because Jason didn't try to save Felipe from falling. No matter Jason's real actions or intentions, Felipe still died and his father still blamed Robin.

If we go off of the theory that Felipe really was just spooked by Jason and slipped off the building by accident, then Jason didn’t kill Felipe so much as he didn’t save him. Which Bruce has done to KGBeast for example multiple times (no seriously there's AT LEAST two separate times when Bruce may not have killed KGBeast but certainly and purposefully left him in a situation in which death was eminent, but whatever I digress.)

I think a lot of people don't know that that story is actually a two-parter and that the next issue after Batman (1940) #424 deals with Felipe's father trying to get revenge for his son's death and he very clearly blames Robin for it.

Thoughts and opinions?

[seeingivy]

the time of your life

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: character death (LOL), very immature fifteen year old humor (that was cross confirmed with real fifteen year olds), idk reader and eren being mad corny

an: tried my best to make this chapter fun but I will just POST WHAT I HAVE BUT THE NEXT ONE IS ONE OF MY FAVS IM SO EXCITED

previous part linked here

--

Things settle down after the panel, and Eren convinces you to put all your energy into finishing the season. Because you’re going to prove them wrong and now you just have to do it. And as much effort as you put in, the rest of them all make it fun too. 

And Eren’s right. 

They really are great - funny, charismatic, and idiotic in their own ways. 

The inside jokes start one week after filming when you’ve finally learned everyone’s names. And, of course, it starts with Reiner. You and Historia are so tired after filming that you quickly run back to the townhouse just to get snacks from the main kitchen. With the mention of food, Sasha’s following, and then Connie, suddenly, everyone’s marching back together. 

Except when you get there, Reiner is in the kitchen. Not only is he shirtless, but he’s also doing some next-level opera singing. For some reason, he’s trying to sing both parts of the Phantom of the Opera and… actually succeeding?

Connie leans over, whispering. 

“Look at those mommy milkers.” 

You all burst out laughing, which stops Reiner in his tracks. And he momentarily stops and scratches his head before he keeps singing, this time serenading all of you. He’s taking Ymir by the hand and swinging her around and holding hands with Jean as they rock back and forth that even Mikasa’s snorting at the sight of him. You're all sold after that. 

Speaking of Mikasa, as solemn and quiet as she can be, she’s gotten you into quite a bit of trouble. Trouble meaning severe back pain. When she first moved into your room, she mentioned that she was a bit of an early riser. She likes to work out to get her blood moving before shooting, claiming that “it gets her in the zone.” 

Somehow, she convinces you and Sasha to join her one morning, and by the end of it, Jean and Marco are dragging you both back to the house by your legs, having to shove the two of you in an ice bath. 

You just didn’t realize that an early riser meant four in the morning, and working out means an all-intensive full-body press. Levi’s pissed at you and Sasha for being stupid enough to think you could keep up and you’re both mad at Levi for having such little faith in you. 

In true dad fashion, Levi’s always lecturing you guys. More like pretending to be mad, berating you around the set. But you know that he cares because the second that you guys ask him for something, no matter how stupid it is, he’ll be the first to give in. 

Exhibit A? Marco and Jean recently find out that Levi became a triple threat from doing his own stunts on Bond - including a quadruple flip. They’re both so intrigued by it that every time they see Levi, they force him to do it. 

“Levi.” 

“No, Marco. I’m not going to do a flip.” 

“Do a flip! Levi, please please please please please do a flip. It’s just so fucking cool.” 

“Watch your language, Jean. You need to wash your mouth out with soap.” 

“I won’t say fuck for a week if you flip, Levi. Please!” Jean says, shaking Levi’s hands as he talks. 

Levi begrudgingly rolls his eyes and then backflips in the living room, earning half hearted cheers. It was cool the first eleven times, but Jean literally asks him to do it daily. It gets old fast. 

“That was so fucking cool, Levi! Thanks.” Jean says, running off. He bumps into Sasha, who's clearly going to throw up as she runs past. 

Levi’s sick and tired of Jean. And Hange too. And himself for thinking that filming with a bunch of teenagers was going to be a good idea. 

After finding out that Sasha will quite literally eat anything you put in front of her, Hange’s started a dangerously horrible game of seeing what Sasha will eat without paying attention to it.

Ketchup on watermelon, ice cream with salt in it, cake with mayo. It’s become so disgusting that you can’t tell who people are more grossed out with - Hange for making the concoction or Sasha for eating it. (It’s Sasha) 

Armin’s taken maybe twenty before and after pictures of Sasha during these “experiments” that Hange runs and then sticks them onto the kitchen wall - perfectly labeled with the food Sasha ate underneath them. 

And he loves taking pictures so much that there’s now a big wall at the front of the set of just individual and group pictures, Armin’s little pictures and commentary tacked to the wall. 

One of Jean and Sasha playing video games, labeled “the great war” 

Another one of Ymir and Bertholdt tackling each other, labeled “ice cream gate” 

And one of Eren pinching your cheek, labeled “the l/n-jaegers” 

Right. In another life, you’re all convinced that Connie was destined to work for the paparazzi. Because every time you and Eren are together, he somehow manages to capture a picture at the worst time - making something innocent look like totally not.

Like when you and Eren share a blanket on set because there’s only one left. Or when he helps you put the harnesses on and his hands are around your waist for two seconds . When you guys share the breakfast burritos on set because they’re too big to eat alone. With context, they’re not that bad. 

But Connie always catches it at the worst time and then posts it to his fucking TikTok account. His stupid series has garnered millions of views, and you’ve both tried to convince him to stop, to which he refuses

And when you tried to get Erwin involved, he only supported Connie more - stating it was good press for the show. He’s named the series “the l/n-jaegers” hence the label on the polaroid.  

There’s currently 32 different parts. 

But you know you can’t stop him even if you tried because Connie proves to be the most menacing idiot on set. Him and Annie have developed a horrible habit of pranking everyone on around - Levi, Hange, and Erwin specifically. It’s not that Annie loves pranks, she’s just the only one who can keep a straight face. 

“Hey Hange.” 

“What’s up, Annie?” 

“There’s this guy who works in hair and makeup. He has a few ideas for the Female Titan costume design. He wants to talk to you.” 

“Oh. What’s his name?” 

“Ben Dover.” responds Connie, the look on his and Annie’s faces blank. 

“Ben Dover?” Hange repeats the rest of you, trying you shoving your faces into the script to stop laughing as they respond. 

“Yeah. They said they’ve talked to Erwin before. He’s been working with Hugh Jass, on the makeup team.” says Annie. 

Erwin walks over, the look on his face confused. And it just gets worse. 

“Who is Hugh Jass? I’ve never seen him before.” 

“Oh, he’s hard to miss. Really big guy,” responds Connie, his face breaking a little. 

Levi walks over, and when Annie talks again, it’s the final nail in the coffin. You and Eren are literally smacking your hands over each other's mouths, the tears spilling out of your eyes to not give them away. 

“Okay, we’ll go over there now. Thanks for telling us Annie, Connie.” 

“Cool! They’re waiting with Ben Overbich.” 

“What?” 

“Ben Overbich. It’s Swedish, sir.” Annie responds. 

Levi shrugs as he, Hange, and Erwin walk off to go to talk to the costume designers. And when they all walk away, you’re all panting on the floor, gasping for breath. Connie keeps mimicking Erwin, saying Hugh Jass, and Berholdt keeps quoting it’s Swedish sir, which doesn’t make it any better. 

When they return, Levi and Erwin are all yanking you by the ears onto the set since the costume team told them what the jokes actually meant. And there’s something so presidential about Erwin naturally that when he starts lecturing you, it starts feeling like he’s giving a sermon. 

“You guys are premier faces in the industry. Imagine how people would feel if they found out you were making crude jokes like you were fifteen years old.” 

“Sir.” 

“Yes, Ymir.” 

“We are fifteen years old.” 

You’re all snickering as Erwin continues, Hange rolling their eyes as he goes on. 

“You should know better. Ben Dover is not a funny joke. Huge asses are nothing to laugh about. You should wish to have that type of issue.” 

Jean leans over, whispering in yours and Eren’s ear. 

“The divine truths of humanity.” 

You laugh and Erwin stares you down, Eren smacking you for laughing out loud. 

“Y/N. Up.” 

You groan as stand next to him, the lot of them laughing at you, as Erwin stares you down. 

“Erwin.” 

“Y/N. What did you learn in class yesterday?” 

“Uh. States and capitals?” 

“Perfect. Name them all.” 

You groan. Of course, you get stuck with Erwin and his weird punishments. He always quizzes you guys on random stuff from your classes when you take too long on set or are late to a table read. And you’re usually free from that, but Jean’s stupid comment got you. 

“Uh. Okay. California is Los Angeles.” 

“Wrong. It’s Sacramento.” 

“I’m Canadian, Erwin. This isn’t even fair.”  

He shakes his head dismissively as you keep going, literally getting every single one wrong. And when you reach the fifth incorrect state, Eren takes his stand, helping you with the rest of them. 

“Eren. No one asked you if you knew the states and capitals.” Erwin says, pinching both of your ears as they all laugh.

“Can’t leave my girl hanging here.” 

“Your girl?” repeats Connie and the rest of them widen their eyes, leaving you and Eren to be met with a bunch of “oohs” and “aahs”

Which only flusters Eren even more. And makes your cheeks burn.

“That’s-that’s not what I meant! It’s because we’re co-stars! Like the leads, that’s why she’s my girl! Not any weird reason.” Eren stammers, the tips of his ears pink and his eyes not meeting yours. 

No one believes him. 

-

“Eren.” 

“Hm.” 

“Hot sauce.” 

He leans over in the chair, opening the packet of hot sauce and handing it to you. The crew got breakfast burritos again , meaning you and Eren were slouched up in your chairs eating. The scene that was being filmed was primarily a scene for Jean and Marco, but you and Eren always love to watch everyone else act. 

There’s something about the energy on set - Levi directing everyone around, everyone getting in the zone that gets you excited. All jittery and nervous and thrilled that people are going to see this amazing thing that is airing in a few weeks. 

You hand Eren the burrito and he instinctively reaches forward, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. His green eyes focused on your lips and you can feel your heart rising into your throat. 

“Eren.” 

He looks up, right into your eyes. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Oh, my bad. You had some sauce on your lip.” 

And then he takes the excess sauce and licks it off his finger. 

“Did you just-” 

“Y/N, be quiet. They’re starting.” 

You try your best to focus on the scene but all you can think about is yours and Eren’s knees bumping against each other, your fingers brushing across as you share the food, and Eren licking the sauce off of his finger. You try to brush it off as you lean over and whisper into his space.

“What scene is this, Eren?” 

“Don’t remember. I was so busy trying to check my own lines I forgot to read ahead.” 

You nod as Eren scoots closer, the two of you leaning forward as you start paying attention to the scene. Jeans walks closer and that’s when you realize it - Marco leaning against the wall, all charred and slumped over. 

“Hey. Are you…. Marco?” Jean whispers, his voice shaking. 

Eren instinctively reaches for your hand, crushing it in his hold. You look over to find Sasha and Bertholdt giving you the same confused looks as you all keep watching, Jean acting on. It seems like no one read the scene before watching it. 

Jean’s a good actor. Such a good actor that you think he’s actually crying, that his voice is actually wavering. And that’s when you realize it. 

Marco just died. 

Your mind is running at a million miles per hour. Does that mean he’s leaving? He’s not going to be in the show anymore? You guys were all supposed to spend four or five years together filming together, but how is that fair if he’s already dead? That isn’t even an entire season-

Eren’s squeezing your hand into oblivion as the tears are falling out of his eyes, his face looking all types of broken as you glance over. 

“Member of the 104th Cadet Corps and Captain of Squad 19… Marco Bodt.”  

The director calls cut and the crew starts moving around, Jean helping Marco up from the ground as he brushes the tears out of his eyes. And when you catch sight of Erwin, you’re blazing fire angry. And it seems like you’re not the only one, because Ymir and Mikasa are following your suit. 

“Erwin. What the hell?” you say. 

Erwin and Levi look down at the three of you, confused. 

“You can’t just kill Marco! That’s not fair, the show hasn’t even started yet and you already killed him off.” Reiner says, crossing his arms. 

“Erwin. Cut it out of the show. You can’t do this.” Mikasa responds, glaring at him. 

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose as he bends down, Erwin joining him so you’re all level heights. For some reason, angry tears are building in your eyes and your chest is burning, because…you miss Marco. And he’s not even gone yet. And it’s not fair that he died so soon and his character is all but sweet, so why does he have to die and-

Levi places his hands on yours and Reiner’s shoulders as he talks, his voice soft. 

“Are you guys upset that he’s going to be leaving?” 

You all nod, the tears finally flowing out of your eyes and streaming down. You can see that Reiner’s crying too, Mikasa swallowing her own tears. 

“Yeah. Erwin, Levi he’s our friend. And I’ve never really had friends like this and I don’t want him to go away and-” you choke out, stammering on your words. 

Levi squeezes your shoulder as you hiccup and Erwin leans forward to press all three of you in a hug. Levi’s hands are in your hair, whispering something under his breath about how you’re all sweet kids. 

They both let you go and you look over to find Marco, still in his death makeup, hugging Eren, who has tears streaming down his eyes too. And when you walk over, Marco opens up his other arm, you and Eren and Jean and almost everyone crushing him into a hug, the discomfort sitting in your chest. 

As you all trail back to the townhouse after set, quiet for once, you’re all milling around the main room, aimlessly. You and Armin are playing a very underwhelming game of Uno, Reiner and Marco half-assedly playing Mario Kart, and Mikasa’s teaching Ymir how to braid her hair. 

Hange walks in and plops down between you and Armin, the polaroid camera in her hand. 

“Hey, you guys.” 

“Hi Hange.” you both mutter, flipping the cards down. 

“Got an idea. You know, this shows kind of… dramatic . A lot more of the characters are going to die, but it doesn’t have to be a sad thing.” 

“It is sad. That means Marco’s leaving and we won’t see him anymore.” you say, boring your eyes into Hange’s. 

They lean forward to pinch your cheek, softly laughing as they continue talking. 

“You’re so sweet. He’ll be back to film other scenes, yeah? And you’ll definitely see him again.” 

You both nod, agreeing with Hange. They hand the camera to Armin, whispering the plan in his ears and then duck out of the hallway. And when you and Armin have everything you need - the industrial box of Rocky Road ice cream and the camera - you head to the center of the room, Armin standing on the couch to get everyone’s attention. 

“When you fall off, I’m going to fucking laugh at you, Arlert.” says Ymir, looking up from braiding Sasha’s hair. 

“Shut up, Ymir. Listen, we should make a deal. Every time a character dies, we all eat ice cream. Play games, stay up late, and then at the end of the night we’ll add their picture to the wall. So we don’t forget them . Like, one last hurrah or whatever. ” Armin says. 

“You sound like Hange.” Annie mutters, flicking Reiner in the forehead. 

“It was their idea. But we should. If Marco’s leaving in a few days, I want to spend all the time I can with him, having fun and-” 

“Yeah. I want to.” says Marco, which has almost all of you agreeing.

You and Armin start by opening the tub of ice cream, all eleven of you refusing to get bowls and instead leaning over, bumping heads as you eat. 

“Eren. Move your big head.” 

“Shut the fuck up Connie. Your bald head is bigger than mine.” 

You all start snickering as the two of them argue, smacking each other and rolling off the couch. And when Marco suggests that you play truth or dare, you all start nervously giggling as you go around the circle, all jittery from the sugar in the ice cream.

Reiner asks Connie to share the last dream that he had, which he begrudgingly shares is that he kissed Ymir. Ymir is thoroughly disgusted. Historia gets dared to call Erwin dad by accident, which just leads to Erwin giving Historia a lecture about how he appreciates that she can see him as a father figure and that he is already very proud of all of the work Historia has put in. 

Bertholdt has to eat a spoonful of mayo, which he consequently throws up and Armin gets dared to steal something from the set. He takes Levi’s coffee cup and hides it in the storage room, which he is sure to get an earful for later. 

“Eren. Truth or Dare?” Connie asks. 

“Dare.” 

“Kiss your favorite person in the room on the cheek.” 

They all start giggling as they stare you down, your cheeks burning at the thought of Eren pressing his lips to yours. Connie and Bertholdt are making kissy faces at you, Ymir and Annie leaning over to pinch your cheeks. 

And you brace yourself, for when Eren’s going to press his lips into your skin. Except he doesn’t.  He leans over and kisses Armin on the cheek and you try your best to hide your…disappointment? Sadness? But that’s on you. 

Why would you assume you’re Eren’s favorite person on set? 

Everyone boos at Eren for picking a copout answer and you pretend not to be offended as you keep playing the game. And on hour two of playing, Levi comes and yells at you all to shut the fuck up and go to bed , which leads to Armin taking the picture of Marco - all cheesing and smiley and tacking it to the wall. Connie takes a sharpie and labels the wall “fly high angel” to mark the occasion. 

Except his dumbass writes angle instead of angel. 

You all shuffle back to your rooms, giggling and laughing, and you and Eren giving each other a smile as you switch into your respective rooms. 

- 

You hear a knock on your door and instantly jump up, ready to duck out of set to go get slushies with Eren. Except when you swing the door open, Jean’s standing at your store instead of Eren. 

“Oh. Hi Jean.” 

“Hi…is-” 

“She’s in the shower. You’re welcome to wait for her here if you’d like?” 

You swing the door open and he flops onto Mikasa’s bed, watching your fan spin around on the ceiling. 

You’re not sure what it is or why Jean and Mikasa are assuaged from the barrage of teasing and cooing that you and Eren get whenever you’re around each other, because you’re almost a thousand percent sure that the two of them are worse than you and Eren. 

Because they actually like each other. You’ve often come home from filming or playing games with Bertholdt and Historia to find the two of them sitting on the floor, holding hands while watching a movie. Or Jean giving Mikasa bracelets or telling her that he thinks she’s really pretty. 

Maybe they’re not paying attention and that the only person who knows is you. Or maybe it’s because they don’t turn red or deny their feelings, because they actually like each other. You and Eren aren’t like that, because in earnest, you two really are just friends. 

“You okay? Your room must be pretty empty.” 

Marco moved out earlier today. Not a single dry eye in the room. 

“Yeah, that’s kinda why I came. Sometimes it just feels kind of lonely, but I think Levi and Erwin might move someone in with me or put me with Connie or something.” 

“That’s nice. It’ll be fun to have a roommate.” 

He nods, cracking his fingers as the shower runs behind the two of you. 

“Hey Jean.” 

“Hm.” 

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” 

“Shoot.”

You sit up, hopping off your desk chair and onto the bed where Jean was sitting. He’s leaned back against Mikasa’s perfectly propped pillows, lazily swinging the charm of his necklace back and forth on the chain. 

“How do you know you like Mikasa?” 

He looks up from his chain, giving you an inquisitive look, before answering. 

“Dunno. I like being around her. Like, whenever I’m in a room, the person I want to be next to is her. Or the first person I tell good news to and I want her to know like…random things about me. My moms name, my first pet, how I hate my first grade teacher. I just like to share things with her. Like how it feels when I'm with her you know - like...like that's Mikasa. She's my girlfriend."  

“Oh. Okay, that makes sense.” 

He nods, plopping back down on her pillows and twisting the chain in his hands again. 

You halfheartedly nod as Mikasa rolls out of the bathroom, giving you two smiles as she takes the seat next to Jean. You give the two of them a smile as you pad out of the room and straight into Eren and Armin’s across. 

“Hi. Mind if I sit? Jean and Mika are-” 

“Sure.” Eren says, scooting over on his bed and patting on the sheets. 

“Where’s Min?” 

“Ah. With Erwin. I think he’s taking the Marco thing kind of hard.” 

You nod, shuffling on the bed as Eren shuts his laptop, leaning back onto the headboard. 

“Are you okay, Eren? With him being gone?” 

“Feels weird. It kind of just makes me nervous for who else will leave us, you know?” 

Us. 

“Yeah.” 

Eren tangles his hand with yours at your side, taking turns cracking each of the knuckles on your fingers. 

“Do you ever wonder why they tease us so much? For being friends?” 

He angles his head over, the wisps of his brown hair tickling on your forehead.

“Like. Mikasa and Jean really like each other. They’re always holding hands in my room and-”

“What? They like each other?” 

“I think so. I don’t know, they’ve never really hid it from me.” 

“Well, you’re sweet. You’d never make fun of them for that. I had no idea that they liked each other. They’re probably just not outward with it in front of everyone else.” 

“And we aren’t outward with anything. I don’t know, we just act normal and they’re always like saying this stuff about how you and I-” 

“Y/N.” 

You stop talking as he squeezes your hand three times, almost like a little knock signaling you to stop talking. 

“I think they just… don’t get us. You and I are special. I just feel like I’ve known you forever and that we really fit together and I think they can sense that or something. And they think it’s romantic even if it’s not, you know?” 

“Yeah.” 

He squeezes your hand three more times, the words knocking through your head. Special. Fit together. Not romantic. He leans over, green eyes staring into yours. 

“You and me. Always?” 

You nod, swallowing hard as you lean back. 

“Plus. They can’t kill us off. We’re the main characters.” 

- 

You shuffle in your seat as the director yells action, as you look down at Eren, tied up against the post in the middle of the set. You’re filming the scene where Levi is supposed to just kick Eren’s ass in the middle of the court, to prove to the other characters that they can control him and his titan powers. 

Except you’re on your fifth take of this scene, Eren getting increasingly frustrated because Levi’s been yelling at him all morning, claiming that he isn’t acting good enough for the scene. Levi’s a bit of a perfectionist, meaning he won’t let anyone leave until the scene is perfect the way he wants it. 

Eren especially. You could always tell that Levi was always more fond of Eren than everyone else, but you never thought that would mean Levi would be extra harsh on him. Which is clearly just pissing Eren off today. 

“Maybe we should dissect her just in case!”

“Wait. Maybe I am a monster, but she has nothing to do with that! Nothing at all!” Eren screams, his voice straining and his eyes pinching shut as he wrestles against the handcuffs. 

“As if we could believe you!” 

“It’s a fact!” 

“You’re defending her? She must be one of you!” 

“No!” 

Levi stomps into the middle of the set, leaning down and getting level with Eren. And then he starts yelling at him. 

“Eren. You can do so much better than that. You have to give it your all or this isn’t going to work.” 

“I am giving it my all. You’ve had me working for five hours now and I-”

“So? You have to get used to that type of time commitment if you want to be the best like you said you did and-” 

Eren and Levi keep going back and forth, Hange signaling at you from the back of the set as you both arise from your chairs, leaning down to meet them. 

“Levi. Go easy on him, we’ve been-” Hange starts, 

“No. He can do better than this and I know he can. He just doesn’t want to. If he would just put in a little effort, it would be better.” 

“Levi, maybe you’re being too harsh on him-” you start. 

Levi rolls his eyes as he stands up, calling for a break as you unhook Eren from the post. The second you unlock him, he storms off straight off of the set. 

“Hange.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you take a longer break from us? I’ll talk to him.” 

“I’ll talk to Levi. He just…he knows Eren can be really good. That he has potential. He’s just trying to get him there faster because he wants Eren to do well.” 

“I know, Hange.” 

You shoot them a smile as you run into the storage closet, yanking out the tandem bike and heading to find Eren. 

- 

You kick the rocks in front of you as you hand Eren the slushie, anxiously looking over at him. He’s still radiating anger, from the way his shoulders are tense and how his knuckles are nearly white against the cup. The two of you biked in silence and even the cashier could tell Eren was having some type of fit today. 

“Eren.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

He sighs as he leans into your touch, resting his head against your shoulder. 

“I just-I’m trying really hard to get it. And Levi’s always just so hard on me, I can’t even tell if I’m doing a good job or if I can do this or-” 

You reach down, crushing his hand in your hold, as you respond. 

“Eren. You’re doing a really great job. Even Levi thinks that. He just… he knows you’re great and he’s trying to tap into that.” 

“I know, it just makes me wonder sometimes if I’m cut out for this. Or that Best Actor savant that I-” 

“Eren. You’re going to get it. I know that for a fact. It might not be this season or the next, but you will get it. You’re- you’re literally amazing, I just know you’ll be one of the best of our generation and-” 

“You’re just saying that because-” 

“I’m not! I really do think that, I- I’d even bet on it for you. You’re the best person for this role and you’re perfect for it and in general too and I just think you should be more confid-”

“Y/N, I-”

“Like really, I think you have the chops to be great. I can’t even believe I have to be your costar because I am infinitely mediocre next to you when you’re just so amazing and already have so many credits and-” 

You’re cut off by Eren’s lips on your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to your skin. You reach up to the skin as you look over at him, positively bug eyed. 

“You-why would y-” 

“The other day. You are my favorite person on set. I just didn’t want them to make fun of us for it.” 

“Oh. Right, I-” 

“Finish the slushie. We’ll go back after.” 

When you return, Eren finishes the scene in one take. And gets Levi’s golden stamp of approval. 

- 

When you and Eren film the last scene of the season, on your last day of shooting for a few months, you can’t help but feel a despair in your chest. Everyone else was already long gone, having given your wistful goodbyes and promises of keeping in touch until you come back to (hopefully) film the second season. 

Which leaves you, Eren, Erwin, Levi, Hange, and the crew to film the last scene. The backstory of how you and Eren came to be, where he wraps the scarf around your neck. 

While you love having everyone else around, it was nice to have a few days of just you and Eren, where you can soak in his company before you have to be apart for a few days. You make ramen together in the mornings, he teaches you how to play video games, and you talk about almost anything and everything in those three days.   

And when you go to film the scene, the despair of being apart from him…from your best friend really settles in. You’re sure it makes the scene all the more better. 

“It’s cold…. I don’t have anywhere to go home to.” you say. 

Eren walks over, his voice uncharacteristically soft, so gentle when he wraps the scarf around your neck that it makes your cheeks burn. 

“You can have this. It’s warm, right?” 

Grisha walks forward, placing a hand on Eren’s shoulder as he says his line. 

“Y/N. You should come live with us. You’ve been through plenty.” 

And when you look at Eren, you can feel your heart beating as he says the next lines. And for some reason, this version of Eren feels less like the character Eren and more like the real Eren. 

Your Eren. Tandem bikes, slushies, squeezing hands three times Eren. 

He reaches forward, squeezing your hand three times like he was reading your fucking mind, as he says the next line. While he acts dismissive, you can see the warmth in his eyes, and it feels like something else. Like he’s trying to hint something at you, tell you something you can’t exactly pick up on. 

“Come on. Let’s go back already. To our home.” 

And when you squeeze Eren’s hand three times back and trail off out of the shot of the camera, you both smile at each other, Eren turning to face you. 

“See you in a few months?” 

“Yeah.”

“Call me every day?” 

You roll your eyes as you reach over to flick his forehead, to which he pinches the sides of your waist. You squirm out of his hold, the feel of his fingers ticklish as you both laugh. 

“Yes, Eren. I’ll call you every day.” 

“Okay, good. Don’t forget me when you become famous overnight.” 

“You’re so full of shit, Eren. That’s not going to happen.” 

You’re totally wrong, for what it’s worth. The first episode of Attack on Titan airs on Friday. You and Eren start trending on Saturday.

--

next part linked here

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[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapter 3 Review

‼️ SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER ‼️

Warning(s): extreme use of foul language.

Aurora is not pregnant.

I don’t believe it for a second, that cow is lying through her teeth. I already mentioned in the second chapter review that she just couldn’t be pregnant because there are three major reasons that easily disprove her claim.

First, it’s the amount of time that passed by. It has been a few months since Season 4 and the manga, around four months to be exact. And yet, Aurora’s stomach appears to be completely flat. How is this possible? Shouldn't there be a visible bump by now?

Second, season 3’s artbook already confirmed that Aurora was a manipulative woman and wanted to reflect it with her design (by having her hair covering one of her eyes) so who’s to say she’s telling the truth right now??

Third, @kilfeur pointed out in this post that if she was pregnant, Armand would not have allowed her to fly high up in the cloudy sky to gain knowledge about the Eliatrope goddess' eliaculus. Armand was already worried about Aurora when she went up, and the thought of her flying high while carrying their future child would have made him refuse the idea entirely, as he feared it could put their unborn child in danger.

So yeah, this skank is clearly lying her ass off just to manipulate the sadidas so that they could take her side. She’s so fucking petty omg I cannot deal with her. And her father is even worse my god wipe that ugly ass smile off your face you fatass.

This man clearly wants power that’s outside his kingdom. He just wants more even if it doesn’t belong to him and it painfully shows because he won’t stop making this fart face.

But it’s okay because as soon as Amalia opens her mouth, he immediately stops looking like a dumbass and immediately FROWNS because he knows she’s spitting FACTS.

And this is the only reason why I loved this moment. Amalia literally put him in his place and shut him up.

Amalia on the first panel: “What right do you return after you have shamelessly abandoned us? The osamodas kingdom, the nations of Bonta, Brakmar, Amakna, Astrub…”

Amalia on the second panel: “We asked you to come help us!”

Amalia on the third panel: “BUT NO ONE CAME! It was the future of the world that was at stake, not just the Sadida Kingdom!!!”

LIKE YES GIRL YES FUCKING DESTROY THIS OLD WASTE OF SPACE!!!

She literally dragged him on the fucking floor with all these facts omg I can’t she’s such a queen I love her so much. 💖💖

But then, instead of just taking it all like a good boy, this old bag of furry bones only had one thing to say and it was:

Osamodas blue cow king: “You give honor to your egocentrism, Amalia…”

Bruh what.

What are you talking about, you crusty old bat?

She drops so many facts and events that happened and this guy’s only comeback is “you’re being selfish 🥺😡”. Like what the fuck was even that???

Dude if you’ve got nothing to say, then don’t say anything but don’t just blurt out the first thing that comes out of your mouth??? Like what??

This is the equivalent of a detective who presented all the proofs that you committed the crime and the only thing you have to say is “your mama”.

Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse for this guy, he says:

Osamodas blue cow king: “My soldiers would have beat these creatures just as efficiently as yours.”

Oh yeah, where were they then, you fucking liar??? The worst part about this is that you didn’t even try hiding the fact that you would’ve been ‘ready’ but you’re so dumb you have no idea how brain-dead that makes you sound right now. You’re saying you could’ve sent your men BUT YOU DIDN’T DO SHIT. WHAT’S WORSE IS THAT YOU KNEW THE SADIDAS NEEDED HELP CUZ UR STUPID DAUGHTER FLED TO GO BACK TO YOU.

Also didn’t you once claim that Armand’s army was weaker than yours but then all of a sudden you’re now saying that your army could’ve beat the necromes like theirs did???

(oh oop- Armand don’t kill him yet 😭)

Bitch doesn’t even know what he’s talking about anymore. I doubt he even knows wtf he’s saying half the time.

Are you dumb???? Are you actually suffering from constipation????

You’re implying that you were free to help and that you knew they needed help. YOU’RE INDIRECTLY SAYING THAT YOU KNEW AND DIDN’T HELP DESPITE HAVING THE TIME TO DO SO.

While the old fart is yapping, Yugo’s face is just so 🫤😑 I’ve been staring at this panel for 2 minutes now and I love how fucking out of it he looks while listening to the cow 😭 Actually, I’m not even sure if he’s listening, I think he’s just hearing him from one ear but it all goes out on the other side. He looks like a god who’s about to squash an annoying ass ant lol

He’s literally like “is this bitch fr?”

Like Yugo is 100% confident to say that the osamodas king had no idea what the hell he was talking about when he thought his troops and he would’ve been able to fight off the necromes.

Yugo: “You have absolutely no idea what we saved you from!”

Yugo’s making that face cuz he knows the king has no clue what he’s barking about. (Also can’t Yugo just use his wakfu sensing abilities to check if Aurora is actually carrying another twelvian?? Or is he not able to do that because an unborn child does not have wakfu yet?) Little blue bro doesn’t know what necromes even are cuz Yugo never told him about them so how the hell was he supposed to know if his men would’ve stood a chance???? No seriously is this cow okay? Why is he talking? Is he talking just for the sake of talking?? Is he that self-conscious that he’ll make up lies on the spot just to protect his image??? The cow king doesn’t even know that the necromes had a leader. Yugo and Amalia are dealing with a fucking grown-ass child omg.

Osamodas blond cow: “I left because I made the promise to my dear Armand.”

This is a lie. Armand never heard of any promise. An analysis conducted by @geekgirles even indicated otherwise, supporting that the claim made by Aurora was fake. According to the analysis, Aurora was more inclined towards her family than her new life with Armand, and the claim that he made any promises to her was baseless. If you wish to read the detailed analysis conducted by @geekgirles on this matter, you can find all of it in this post.

I’ll now explain to you, in my own words, why her bullshit is hot donkey ass. Keep in mind that the whole reason why she left was to protect “the child” aka “the future heir”. As I said before, Aurora couldn’t have promised Armand anything because he knew she still held a bit too much on her osamodas family. From what we’ve seen, Aurora had the time to go back to the Osamodas kingdom to check up on them because of the eliaculus in the skies, had sided with her osamodas family during the meeting with the eliatrope goddess, had tried to marry off Amalia to one of her brothers and cousin, deliberately brought some of her relatives to Armand’s coronation to….stand around, and even keeps her father around in the Sadida kingdom when he should either be ruling his own kingdom or go back to his cave. Armand is not a moron. He knows that she constantly brings her own family to a place that doesn’t need them. So when he’s about to sacrifice his life unbeknownst to Amalia, he tells her this:

“The future is yours.”

Armand had passed the torch to Amalia.

It's worth noting that this is a crucial moment because he chooses not to pass the leadership to his own wife, Aurora. This decision is based on the fact that Aurora is heavily influenced by her family and is unable to make independent choices. At the same time, he also chooses not to give it to someone else who is just as important.

And that is the imaginary baby that Aurora is carrying.

Remember that the baby doesn't exist, and that's an important fact to keep in mind. Armand, who still loves Aurora, doesn't trust her enough to give her the leading role, or any role for that matter, especially not one that involves a child they could potentially have together. Instead, he gave the role to his sister. Aurora knows this and is fully aware that her promise to him was never even a thing. In Armand’s mind, it wouldn't have mattered if she ran away because he never intended to give her a part of the kingdom’s responsibilities in the first place, even though her getting away like that would have hurt his heart.

And Aurora is over here saying that her dad will help her lead the sadidas while she’s pregnant, girl sit your ass down no one called for you. Hoe thought she was in the same group as freaking warriors, shut up. You clearly want your father to rule for a much longer time literally wtf.

Osamodas blond cow: “During my pregnancy, my father will help me lead the kingdom…and I also count on him to train the future heir.”

It's concerning that her explanation might make sense to the sadidas. I'm not sure how she managed it, but that skank made it sound like her father would automatically assist her in ruling the Sadida Kingdom (despite them being Osamodas) since she would be pregnant and without aid due to Armand's demise. And after her baby would be born, her father would train him under his guidance to make him become strong and successful. She made it sound like a simple plan with no problems attached to it. She hasn’t even mentioned if the “baby” was an osamodas or a sadida. She only mentioned the gender, that the baby was a male (in French, when she calls the unborn child “the heir” she says it by using male pronouns).

Hey, Aurora what happens when your lie doesn’t work anymore because your stomach will still stay flat after eight months? You’re gonna tell the people that you swallowed the baby or something? That it fell down? What happens when you can’t keep up with your lie anymore?? Huh? Ever thought about that, you dumb bitch?

I have an idea, Amalia: how about you throw Aurora to the other side of the world and then try to get yourself pregnant by using Yugo so that you can also have a better reason to stay? Or better yet, you can tell her to prove her pregnancy because again, HER STOMACH IS FLATTER THAN A WASHBOARD AFTER ALL THESE MONTHS. Make her suffer from her lie and try to make her work hard for it.

You know when a dog lifts his tail and head up while he’s walking away from something cuz it shows just how sassy and confident they are? I see no difference with this crappy blue cow ‘family’ except that it ain’t cute when they do it.

They just ignored everything Amalia and Yugo said, looked the other way from every proof and situation that they were currently in, and only brought out Aurora’s pregnancy as a trashy uno reverse card, then decided to dip out before blurting out that they were gonna wait NEXT TO ARMAND’S FUCKING TREE GRAVE SO AMALIA CAN PREPARE HER STUFF TO LEAVE.

Osamodas blonde cow: “We are going to pray at Armand’s grave tree, while you make your arrangements.”

The fucking nerve to say that.

I don’t give a shit if she’s crying while saying it, this bitch is supposed to be a professional manipulator.

She and her family have no shame whatsoever. They genuinely thought they did something there. The only thing they had as “leverage” against Amalia and Yugo was Aurora’s stupid “pregnancy”. And even if she was actually carrying Armand’s kid (for whatever reason), her reason would still be shit cuz Armand already declared in his final hour that Amalia was going to take his role.

Osamodas blond cow: “Your presence here is no longer desired, sister-in-law. Just do what you’ve always done…Go explore the world!”

Like-

Who are you???

Blond cow had the audacity to exist.

Not only do we know that the royal osamodas family are liars and manipulators, but we also now know that they’re complete dumbasses for even wanting to rule the Sadida kingdom of all kingdoms. The Sadida kingdom is not built like theirs. The Sadida culture and its customs are extremely different and very much the opposite of the Osamodas since these two races are polar opposites. The Sadidas care about plant life while the Osamodas care about wildlife. It would be extremely hard for the osamodas to fully accept a culture that preaches everything that opposes what they preach. Not only that, but the Sadida kingdom is the literal embodiment of nature. If anything tries to hit its source no matter how big or small, then there would be dire consequences to the entire ecosystem of the world. The Tree of Life is such a big deal in fact that Armand even nicknames it “the lungs of this world”.

And to protect it, you not only need to be one with nature, but that also means you need a SADIDA to guard it which is a person that can literally SPEAK FOR THE TREES. Aurora you NEED Amalia, not only because she’s a Sadida, but because she’s also a royal AND has the strongest connection to the tree more than any other sadidas. You’re not just ruling a kingdom, you’re taking care of the world’s core.

And Aurora’s father doesn’t seem to understand that very important detail. When Armand reveals to him that the sadida kingdom keeps getting targeted at all times because it represents the lungs of the world, this fucking dumbass cow thinks that it’s because the sadidas are weak and can’t protect their own home which is why it keeps getting attacked.

Aurora’s father is such an idiot that he doesn’t even understand why the kingdom is so precious when he’s just been TOLD THE ANSWER DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF HIS FUCKING FACE.

At this point, even a iop would get it. BECAUSE THE PERCEDAL FAMILY ACTUALLY UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT-

This is why imagining an osamodas ruling the Sadida kingdom is a literal death sentence. Because an osamodas, someone who only takes care of beasts, shouldn’t be able to properly take care of the sacred tree that links every single living plant in the world. For fuck sake, Aurora, why do you think they call it “the Tree of LIFE”?????

If the Tree of Life doesn’t have a proper guardian (aka A FUCKING SADIDA), then it dies. And if it dies, that means the ecosystem dies. Aurora, you dumb blond, let me explain it in osamodas language: if every green that you see outside disappears, that means that your stupid animals won’t be able to properly eat, shit, reproduce, drink, breathe, and live. And yes, Aurora that last one also means that they won’t have a surface to walk on, aka death.

You don’t have a brain because you keep listening to your egocentric manipulative fat father every time he opens his mouth and you keep making constipated decisions without thinking about the later outcomes because you think you’re in control of the situation.

The only thing you can do, and I’m being generous here by giving you a “talent”, is to shut the fuck up and sit there looking pretty. You did a good job doing that in Season 4 and I want you to do that again. And while you’re at it, go make me a sandwi-

Not only does Aurora need Amalia, the sadida who has the strongest link to the Tree of Life, but the Osamodas king also needs Yugo. I’m not sure why these blue people didn’t catch the fact that there’s a gigantic ass necrome dragon that’s only been PARALYZED and is currently standing in the fucking Sadida Kingdom’s backyard. The dragon is very easy to spot and the only reason why Yugo still keeps the eliatrope dofus on him at all times is to prepare himself for when the dragon gets out of this state. Because yes, Armand did beat him, but he didn’t kill him. Again, you are not able to kill a necrome. If the royal Osamodas family somehow takes hold of the Sadida kingdom, how the fuck are they gonna beat a fucking dragon, one of the most powerful fucking entities of this world who also had been necrofied to NEVER FUCKING DIE??? The osamodas cow king never saw a necrome, never beat a necrome, doesn’t know how it became a necrome, and doesn’t know where it comes from. Since he doesn’t know shit about the necromes, how is he gonna be able to fight a fucking necrome DRAGON?????

Sweeties, do you get it now?

Staying in the Sadida kingdom isn’t for power-hungry clowns. Staying in the Sadida kingdom means that you’ve gambled with your life more than once and you know the taste of adventure and combat. Staying there means knowing that your life can be taken away from you by either the enemies who try to take the literal lungs of the world, or the paralyzed undead dragon who can wake up at any time if he simply wanted to.

You bozos NEED Yugo and Amalia to the point where you can’t even be the ones to stay there, let alone own the place. You can’t stay there because there is so much to keep guard of, to be aware of, and to be ready for. The sadidas have practiced this dance for centuries now and they’ll keep doing it even harder because of an additional menace that is living on their grounds, the dragon being that very threat. Now, not only do the sadidas have to be vigilant of the outside, but they also have to be vigilant of the inside.

So yeah, the royal osamodas are a goofy ass family and I hate the circus.

(i love how the French commentaries on Allskreen and the Krosmoz app are clowning this family lol everyone understood the assignment)

[kickbutts-singsongs]

I know no one asked, but I have exactly zero (0) people to talk about bkdk with irl so here you guys go

My BKDK Journey

Yes, this sounds stupid, but my god it’s been almost three years of an absolute rollercoaster of feelings and denials and tears and revelations…

and if you don’t mind, I’m gonna rant about it.

(not spoiler free)

_____

May 2021

To start off, i wasn’t always a bkdk shipper.

I shipped izu*cha at first (not saying it’s a bad ship btw; it’s actually quite cute. im just afraid people’ll be mad if I accidentally invade their tag lol), primarily because I assumed that would be the ship that became canon.

But also, my veryyyyy leasttttt favorite character… was Bakugou Katsuki.

When I tell you that I would’ve loved nothing more than to somehow spawn into the bnha universe and punch that brat in the face— AGHHHHHHHHHH

Now this wasn’t all his fault: A) I watched the dub first lol, and B) he reminded me of someone that i was not in a place to stand up to at the time, and his constant anger, yelling, and harsh treatment of Izuku—who i began to relate to—made me hateeee him.

There was a time when I literally said “if he died, I wouldn’t miss him.” <- this was later proven false lol

So, I was watching the anime dub with an absolute animosity for our resident deuteragonist, but on top of that…

I was watching it with a friend with a crunchyroll account who lived in another state that I was visiting and staying with for two weeks, so by the time i had to go back home, we’d only gotten up to the part where All Might was getting Inko’s permission to let Izuku stay at the UA dorms.

Anddddddd in my drive to consume more bnha once I got home, i somehow stumbled across an Instagram account that posted bnha sub episodes divided into parts,

but they only had season four and onwards.

Sooooo I never saw the second half of season three… more importantly,

I NEVER SAW DEKU VS KACCHAN 2!!!!!

(I will say that I had seen a couple photos/edits/etc, but I never knew what had been said, or why they fought)

_____

June 2021

At this point in time, I’d been exposed to a lot of the fandom. My fyp on both IG and Pinterest were filled to the brim with all things bnha (because this is what happens when one has a hyperfixation), so I saw a lot of stuff.

Especially fanart.

This is where I started learning about the different ships.

I saw a lot of the side character ships and thought they were adorable (kamijirou, todomomo, even kiribaku), but then I saw some with Izuku.

Izu*cha was a given for me. I didn’t think there was a single person that didn’t ship it. But then I started seeing fanart of ships like tododeku, shindeku, and bakudeku.

And my first reaction to finding out that people shipped my beautiful baby sunshine boi with the person who bullied him for years?????

HELLLLLLLLLLL NO

So with my (unknowingly) limited knowledge of their relationship, i was very much an anti (i never spoke out or anything, i just reallyyyy didn’t like the ship lol)

(And then, you know, I started to see all the bkdk hate online and kinda went “okay not touching that”)

But that began to change…

_____

August 2021

…after I saw a manga leak for the first time.

I was scrolling thru my feed and all of a sudden. BOOM!

I was like 😧

IS THAT IZUKU?????

And i looked in the comments and yes it was.

I checked out the page and found that they had an entire account of manga leaks and was so happy.

I quickly began to read from the very bottom of that account, and it started from right about where Izuku first began his vigilante arc (i had no idea how much was in between then and where I left off on the anime, but I was willing to read it lol)

And so I waited diligently for the leaks every week (a practice I have continued to uphold lol), until one day, i came across an untranslated series of panels from the latest chapter. I looked at it and it was of Katsuki and Izuku, facing each other in the rain (you know the one). I knew the leaks would be coming a day later, but I wanted to look through them anyways, so I did.

I didn’t understand a word they said, but the pictures and imagery of them as kids then middle schoolers then where they were now seemed so touching…

And then I came across a pair of kanji that I recognized.

I was like “wait WHAT???”

I zoomed in and went “that— isn’t that—? That’s part of Midoriya’s name, right???”

And then I was like “wait a second… omg that’s Izuku, isn’t it. That’s the freaking kanji for Izuku.”

And it was!!!!!

So inside I’m having a mini freakout cuz—

Bakugou just called him IZUKU

Fast forward to the next day, and I looked at the translated version, and found out that not only did he call him Izuku,

He

Freaking

APOLOGIZED

And I was like “huhhhhhhh”

What happened between now and the most recent anime episodes for this to occur???? For Bakugou to do a complete 180 and apologize????????

Well, I finally got my answers…

_____

November 2021

…when I started reading the manga.

I started from the beginning, cuz I wanted to see Horikoshi’s art style and the extra drawings and all the other stuff…

And when I tell you that Katsuki became a whole new character to me—

First, I read everything about early-on Bakugou— without hearing him yell in his dub voice—and realized “oh wow he really is just a kid with issues and a worldview that he’s now having to change.”

Then, I finally read what happened in that space between moving into the dorms and the beginning of season four (most importantly, DvK2).

Cried.

Then, oh then, I got up to where season five ended and the rest of the manga began.

. . .

Funny thing: back when I read the leaks to ch322, I remember thinking to myself, “huh. what did Bakugou mean by Shigaraki making swiss cheese outta him?”

😦

THE WAY I GASPED

AND THEN CRIED

OH MY FREAKING GOD

That was the moment where i truly ceased to hate Katsuki cuz holy character development batman

Then, of course, we see them in recovery

And then the vigilante arc and apology scene *sobs*

And then I was caught up.

(Btw I finished the entire manga up ‘til ch334 in just over a week. I read for nine days straight. During the school year. My emotions were all over the place goodness gracious I could barely concentrate.)

So that’s how I went from being a Bakugou hater to going “you know what he’s a complex character and he’s slowly becoming a better person” and realizing that he was now one of my fav characters and therefore cursed to die but I’ll talk about that later

Was I now a bakudeku shipper?

Hah nope.

_____

December 2021

I began my dive into the true essence of any fandom: fanfiction.

Over the course of winter break, I had started off with fics that had no romantic pairing (I just wanted to see my boi Izuku), but then somehow stumbled across Mastermind: Strategist for Hire and then read the entirety of the For Want of a Nail series (shoutout to Clouds btw ❤️) cuz I was like “ok whew no bkdk fics” which was my mindset at the time.

But somehow (I can’t even remember how I found it) I came across a bkdk fic. It was called For Want of Izuku’s Toe Joint by Talavin (okay now that I think about it there’s probably a simple explanation lol).

I don’t quite know what compelled me to start reading it, but I did.

And I really liked it.

But not in the “I’ve been converted” kinda way.

It was like an “I shouldn’t be enjoying this why am I enjoying this?” kinda feeling. Like my head says no but my heart says yeah.

A really really really really guilty pleasure.

So, from that day on, whenever I came across any form of bkdk media, I would simultaneously feel discomfort and yet an odd sense of satisfaction.

A snippet of my daily life:

Me: *comes across bkdk fanart on pinterest*

Me: eww

Also me: *stares at it for like five minutes straight*

Me: who even likes this?

Also me: *saves pin to my mha board*

Me: not my ship

Also me: *scrolls down to more like this*

Bless my heart I was in such denial.

_____

July 2022

Bit of a timeskip, but nothing of note really happened in those last six months so here we go.

We’ve gotten to the point in the manga where the final arc is underway and Bakugou is about to KICK SOME BUTT

He’s revealed his Panser Strafe support item and I’m gushing about it to my friend (she kinda fell out of the fandom but still tolerated my rants bless her)

Oh, side note: it was then that I also expressed my concern for Bakugou’s “alive” status

Evidence:

For reference, some of my favorite characters are:

Beth March (Little Women)

John Reese (Person of Interest)

Joss Carter (Person of Interest)

Leonard Snart (Arrowverse)

Logan Echolls (Veronica Mars)

Fantine (Les Mis)

Eponine (Les Mis)

Jean Valjean (Les Mis)

Simon (Lord of the Flies)

Piggy (Lord of the Flies)

Grace Stone (Manifest)

Bubaigawara Jin — Twice (BNHA)

Wanna guess which of these guys died?

Trick question! It’s all of them (:

Yeah so anyways those following chapters really made me excited and nervous cuz YEAH KICK HIS ASS BAKUGOU but also IZUKUUUUU WE NEED YOU

hah hah.

_____

August 2022

Utterly gobsmacked. Cried. Disbelief. Horrified. Confusion. Anger. Went through the five stages of grief and then some.

Sometimes I hate being right 🥲

But the good thing that came from this was that my positive view of Katsuki only grew after seeing his utter faith in Izuku (and his thoughts being on him in his final moments???? 🥺🥺🥺)

And it was at this point in time where I could admit to myself “you know what? i see it. i see the appeal. i wouldn’t mind this actually becoming canon.”

Did I think that it would actually become canon?? No.

_____

September 2022

I don’t know how I thought Izuku was gonna react to seeing Katsuki’s body on the ground, but GOOD LORD IT WASNT THAT

Even sweet little blind me realized “oh wow he like really feels intense stuff for Katsuki huh”

(But some things I missed—cuz I was still a bit wired for izu*cha—were shigarakis implications “yeah u looooove the present I got u” and the freaking HEART that blackwhip caused??? when Izuku reeled himself back in???? like how did i miss that i read that chapter like fifteen times??)

So this is all to say that I’ve missed any and all actual bkdk hints up until this point. I finally lifted my head out of the izu*cha fog when…

_____

July 2023

…Ochako and Toga had their chat about romance.

The first actual hint was when Ochako had told Toga “I’ll give you my blood for the rest of my life.”

Little blind me became a bit less blind that day, cuz I was like “um. ochako? that— that sounded kinda like a proposal. like. a marriage proposal. ochako??”

And then those chapters just kept getting better!!

Bebe Ochako’s determination???

The Spirited Away moment?????

“I’m envious of your smile”????????

“YOU REALLY THINK IM CUTE?” “THE CUTEST IN THE WHOLE WORLD” LIKE 😭😭😭😭😭

For the first time, I was looking at the manga without the assumption that izu*cha would be endgame. And it only got better after I…

_____

August 2023

…got Tumblr!!!

Everything was downhill from here folks.

In the best possible way.

I came across some analyses of what was going on with togachako, and consequently led me to some bakudeku analyses. I read them and my goodness they made so much sense.

Like not even just personality-wise!! Those metas brought in actual things Horikoshi said about wanting to go outside the norms of shounen (and about not liking the Naruto ending 💀), and compared bkdk to tropes in different works of fiction, and even discussed how bkdk made sense narratively. They properly convinced me of the ship.

And then for good measure, I reread the manga in its entirety thru a bkdk filter, and lo and behold things took on new meanings and my eyes were opened.

I totally and irrevocably shipped them! And I actually thought they had a chance at being canon!!

(And then I binged so much bkdk fanfiction omg you wouldn’t BELIEVE like I read the ones with the highest kudos first and then just picked the biggest collections I could find and read down the line

It was like being on drugs like each fic gave me more dopamine than the last I was so happy oh my god)

_____

October 2023

And then finally, the day came.

The answer to “is bakugou alive yet?” became a yes.

We screamed. We cried. We jumped for joy. We told bakugou antis to suck it. But most of all, our bkdk hearts soared to see our boys make eye contact with each other for the first time in over a year 🥹

And from that moment on, I truly began to believe that bkdk would indeed become canon.

_____

And so, this concludes my 42672288 page rant about how I came to be a bkdk shipper.

Thank you for reading, and before I go, I want to ask:

How did you guys get into bkdk?

Did you convert over from izu*cha? Or perhaps tododeku? Or maybe kiribaku? Or are you one of the few who have shipped them since the beginning??

In any case, I’m happy you’re here. And while it may have taken me a couple years, I’m happy that I’m here too :)

(and thank you @animelover32456)