#Incredibly miffed right now.

[gerbu]

As much as everybody's justifiably railing on Chris Pratt for his acting, after watching the new trailer I honestly don't think Anya Taylor-Joy is a very good fit for Peach either. The problem isn't that they're bad actors, it's that they are not voice actors. When I hear Anya's or Chris's voice I don't picture Peach and Mario, I picture two regular adult people who wouldn't stand out in a coffee shop. Which isn't the point of animated movies and voice acting! ESPECIALLY with Mario! This is supposed to be a movie about cartoonish characters in a video game fantasy world saving the day, and their voices should fit with that theme. That's why Charles Martinet's Mario voice works so well, because it makes sense for what Mario is supposed to be. This trend of giving voice acting specific jobs to non-voice actors who have no experience with this kind of work is detrimental to animation and film! It is removing job opportunities from people who have spent their lives learning this craft and handing it over to a celebrity with no experience just because they're famous. The beauty of voice acting and animation in general is how you are completely creating a character. The whole point of voice acting is that you don't point to a character in a film and say, "hey, that's Chris Pratt" the point is that people will point to the charcater and go "oh, new character!" This movie is more and more frustrating to me the more I realize how much it feels like a money grab exclusively because of the casting. The animation, the music, and the effects are all completely perfect for a Mario movie, but so many of the acting choices feel like someone just rifled through a list of "100 most popular celebrities" and chose whoever was vaguely similar to "average white man voice" or "average white woman voice". No matter how popular these people are or how good they are at acting in front of a camera or on stage, they can not voice act.

[darknymfa]

I love it when characters have Issues.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Youth Team

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The final of the Under-17 Euros

Your call-up to join Denmark's Under-17 team comes on a random Wednesday.

You're freshly fifteen and have just gotten back from practice, throwing your hair up into a ponytail and shoving your dirty keeper gloves into the washing machine.

"I'm home!"

You don't really expect anyone to answer but Momma appears in front of you in an instant, a phone tucked under her ear.

"It's for you," She says and you take it in confusion - unsure of who would call your Momma instead of just you.

"Hello?"

"Is this y/n?" The voice on the other line asks. It's a little weird hearing someone call you by your name like that. Your mothers never outgrew calling you your childhood nickname and everyone at training just called you by your last name.

"Er...Yes?"

You can hear their smile down the phone and something unknown stirs within you.

"I'm calling on behalf of Denmark's Under Seventeen Squad. We'd be delighted to have you join us at camp this year."

You're speechless for a moment, eyes wide in shock as you look at Momma, who is smiling and nodding at you.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'd love to come!"

"Excellent. Details will be sent to your mothers and we look forward to seeing you at Viborg soon."

That was months ago now and, as you slip into your kit, you can't help but think back on it. You're still fifteen, one of the youngest on the squad but you've still managed to clinch the first keeper position from your sixteen-year-old counterpart.

You're up against Germany (but everybody already knew that you would be, they'd been on a winning streak since before you were born) and you take the time before kick-off to take steadying breaths.

Eriksson-Harder is on the back of your jersey. It was a small consolation prize for Morsa, putting her last name first on your back after you chose Denmark over Sweden for the youth teams. Sweden had called too, only several hours too late and you had to reject their offer in favour of Denmark.

Morsa had been a bit miffed but after you promised to put her name first, she was placated (if only for a moment before she arrogantly reminded Momma that you had all the time in the world to choose Sweden's senior team).

"Alright there?" One of your teammates asks as you ready yourself to walk out.

"Peachy," You say sarcastically," Just..." You shrug. "At least try to keep them from getting close enough to shoot?"

She laughs. "It's Germany. I don't think we get that luxury."

She's right because most of the match is spent viciously defending your clean sheet.

You jump.

You dive.

You punch.

You do everything in your power to keep the German goals from taking this from you.

"Come on!" You yell in triumph as you narrowly grab onto the ball. The speed at which it came at you nearly winds you but you recover quickly, kicking it quickly to one of your defenders to send it further up the pitch. "Come at me!"

It's a vicious game and your whole uniform is dirty and raked with mud from the amount of times that you have dived to the ground to stop the ball.

It all comes to a head though when the ninety minutes are up and neither team has scored.

Penalties.

You despise penalties with all your heart (although you're incredibly skilled at them). They're the bane of your existence (but at this point, you don't know that you'll never let one in throughout your entire career). It's made even worse when Denmark starts it off. The ball tips out of target.

You step up.

Shot.

Deflect.

It goes on for a few excruciating rounds. None of your penalty takers seem to be able to score and you're left to make sure that Germany can't either.

Shot.

Deflect.

Shot.

Deflect.

Shot.

Deflect.

Finally though, on the fifth kick, your captain manages to just squeeze one past Germany's keeper and you're left to make sure it stays that way.

If this next ball goes through, it's more penalties.

If not...Well you knew what happened if it didn't go in.

You bounce on your feet, gloves up and ready as Germany's captain readies herself.

She looks like she's aiming right.

The crowd is silent.

She kicks the ball.

You move left...

And catch the ball in your hands easily.

The stadium erupts.

You scream. Your team mobs you and suddenly everyone is talking over each other and laughing and crying and screaming their joy for everyone to see.

You break from the group, still clutching the ball in your hands as you run to the crowd.

To Momma and Morsa.

Tears are spilling down your cheeks as you hop the railing and crash into their arms.

You're not quite sure who's at your front and who's at your back but you just know that Morsa and Momma are here and they're holding you and you've just won the Under-17 Euros.

You're still crying as you pull away to see Momma's the one in front of you. She's crying too, cupping your face and raining kisses on your forehead.

"You did so well, princesse." Morsa's still holding you from behind. "So well. We're so proud of you."

"Denmark's first goalkeeper," Momma says," Winning on penalties."

You grin, your tears having run dry even as you're still overwhelmed by emotions. "So you think I'll stay first keeper?"

Morsa laughs from behind you and you turn around to face her, seeing the pride shining in her eyes. "Definitely. Although, hopefully, you won't stick with Denmark."

"I don't know," Momma teases," She's just won her first Euros. I'd say that staying with Denmark might be her good luck charm."

"She's going to be good enough not to need luck."

You have to break away from them to collect your medal and have a little hold of the trophy but you head straight back.

You take off your medal as soon as you reach them and place it around Momma's neck.

"There'll be more," You promise her and Morsa," There'll be so many more."

[lovries]

YOU HAVE A CUTE FACE

featuring. the demon brothers (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor). (the dateables version).

summary. whilst staring at his face, you've come to the conclusion that he has a very cute face— and of course you have to let him know.

warning. gn! reader.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── LUCIFER

Lucifer was just trying to eat his breakfast, but your intense staring was beginning to unnerve him. He looked up at you, a brow raised at your concerning and strange actions. "Can I help you with something?" He sounds more worried than annoyed like you thought he would be.

"You have a very cute face." Was how you responded to his question, because you just so happened to realize how adorable he was as he happily ate some delicious breakfast— which he is now trying not to choke on.

You've definitely caught him off guard.

Cute. Cute?

Lucifer was aware he was a good looking person, but he definitely wouldn't use the word 'cute' to describe himself. To be honest, he's a bit miffed that you didn't use something like 'handsome' or 'alluring' but he'll take what he can get, he supposes.

He sighs, shaking your head at your nonsense. "You are something else." He says simply, "I think it'd be much more fitting to say you're the cute one in this relationship."

Lucifer doesn't think more of it after that, although everyone definitely notices the little smile that occupies his face for the rest of the day.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── MAMMON

"Oi, why're ya starin'?" Mammon had just been laying on his bed, scrolling through his D.D.D., when he felt your gaze piercing holes through the side of his face. He set his phone aside, sending you an annoyed glare. "Eh? Human? What's the matter with ya?"

"Sorry," You blink out of your trance, grinning up at him. "You just have a really cute face."

"Wha- What the hell are ya talkin' about, don't say weird stuff like that..." He grumbles, quickly turning his head the other way. He would rather join an eating contest with Beelzebub than let you see his softened gaze and blushing cheeks.

"Is that weird?" You chuckle, "I was just being honest~" You coo, deciding to tease him. Of course you knew your words managed to get him flustered (they always do, after all). He huffs, swiftly grab his pillow and throwing it at you.

"What did I just say?" He whines, standing up and giving a little pout.

"Yep, absolutely adorable." You laugh when his eye twitches, only to get hit in the face again with a pillow— however it doesn't quell your laughter at all, instead it only encourages it, your laughs bubbling over.

... You had to chase after him to apologize, so he hopefully wouldn't be too mad at you for the rest of the day.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── LEVIATHAN

Leviathan honestly didn't notice your staring until he paused his anime and turned to tell you about a fun fact, only then seeing the fiery passion in your eyes. "W- Why are you looking at me like that?" He felt like he was being stared down by someone like Lucifer, or maybe even Cerberus! It was scary!

"Levi... You're face..." What? What about his face? He hesitantly touched it, fearing he maybe had some crumbs on his face or something, when you said, "It's incredibly cute!"

His eyes nearly bulge out of his head, the tips of his ears turning a bright red. He coughed awkwardly, looking back at the screen. He couldn't bear to face you right now. "Me? Are you sure you mean me?" He asks, biting at his cheek. "A- Are you sure you're not getting me mixed up with one of my brothers or-"

"Nope, I definitely mean you, Levi!"

He feels lightheaded, almost a little nauseous. You think he's cute. Like really, truly believe that! His heart is going to give out! He awkwardly coughs into his fist again.

"I- I don't know what to say... uhm... you're.... c- cute too..."

Nope. He can't take it! He's hiding his burning hot face in his hands, he won't be able to look at you for the next 24 hours.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── SATAN

Satan knows. Of course he does, he always know, still... He can't help but set his book to the side and quirk a brow at you. "Is there perhaps a reason to your staring, or...?" Although you're a little shocked at being caught (honestly, you weren't being subtle at all...) you still decide to tell him what's on your mind.

"You just have a cute face, that's all."

Satan can't help but grin, but he tries his best to hide it behind his fist. "I see, so that's it." It's silent for a few seconds, and he's just staring at you now. He seems to snap out of his daze, and chuckles. "Sorry, you're face is rather cute too."

That's right, Satan managed to turn the situation around entirely. He enjoys seeing you get flustered, watching as you turn back to the book you're reading. "Oh? Embarrassed? Aren't you the one who started this, hm?"

Next time, you think, you'll keep your thoughts to yourself.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── ASMODEUS

Oh, Asmodeus knows why you're staring at him— it's the reason most people stare at him, but one of his favorite things is getting people to admit why they're staring at him.

Asmo chuckles, shutting your slightly agape mouth and effectively snapping you out of your daze. "Tell me, darling, what seems to have captured your interest so fully, hmm?"

What... Captured... Your attention?

"Ah, your face! It's really cute, Asmo!" You smile up at him, and his eyes widen a fraction. Cute? Well aren't you just wholesome! He definitely wasn't expecting that to be your answer, although it's in the same vein as the usual answers he receives. Either way, Asmo giggles, pinching your cheek.

"Aww darling, you're super cute too! How about we both be adorable together, okay?" Asmo takes your hands and pulls you out of your seat, "Let's go shopping for matching outfits, what do you think? Then we can be even cuter!"

You don't think that's possible, after all, Asmodeus is the cutest thing alive, but...

"Okay, let's go!"

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── BEELZEBUB

You were studying with Beelzebub, however your words trailed off as you noticed how concentrated he looked. He really wanted to get good grades and make Lucifer proud. It was just too cute; he was too cute.

You didn't even realize you were staring at him until he called your name. "Are you okay?" You blink a few times, your heart racing at being caught staring. "Are you hungry, should we take a break?"

"I'm fine," You wave your hand dismissively, silencing his worries. "Your face is just cute, that's all..." Trying to calm his worry, it seems you rambled out the truth behind your dazed look. Your face instantly drops, and Beel can see you're obviously embarrassed by your blunt words. "Uh, I mean, well I-"

The sound of him trying to stifle his laughter cuts you off, and anxiety begins to fill your thoughts. Was he... laughing at you? You knew Beel would never do that, but still... Eventually he managed to calm himself, a content smile on his lips.

"You're cute too, Y/n."

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── BELPHEGOR

You were disturbing Belphegors peace. He said you could stay with him as long as you didn't disturb him, but look at what you were doing! He was tossing and turning! Him! He huffs, rolling on to his stomach and turning his head to look at you, an annoyed glare now staring back at you.

"Belphie? I thought you were sleeping!"

"How could I when you're staring at me like that, hm?" He sighs, propping himself up on his elbows. "What? Am I that good looking or something? Can't take your eyes off of me?" He really just wanted to tease you so that you'd hopefully get annoyed and leave him to sleep, but instead you look... embarrassed?

"Well... You have a cute face, you know?"

... Oh.

Belphie sighs, plopping back down and rolling on to his back. "You're so weird..." He grumbles, however if you try to leave you find his cow tail wrapping around your ankle. "I didn't say you could leave... Get under the covers and take a nap with me— try not to stare at me this time." He smirks. Sometimes you do want to punch him, even if he does have a cute face.

﹙ thank you for reading! have a wonderful day! ﹚

[sebastianwallows]

Love and Marriage

Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader

Summary - Anon request for "Hi! Could you do some smut for ominis where him and reader are married (couple years after Hogwarts) and reader has a voice kink and ominis sometimes slips into parseltounge when he gets lost in the moment🫣 and drives reader crazy 😜"

Word Count - 1,460

Warnings -  18+ smut, characters aged up, rough sex

A/N - I wish there was a way to really right parseltongue but theres just not that I know of??

Ominis had opened up a lot since he had been with you and settled down away from the rest of the Gaunts. He had blossomed into a version of himself he wasn't sure was possible for the longest time. However, married life was still a lot of work. It wasn't without arguments and mistakes.

Although you had been together for several years, the idea of being husband and wife was new; with it came new disagreements and new sides to each other. You had noticed a few times in the throes of yelling back and forth, Ominis would slip into raving in parseltounge. At that point, you had to take a step back. Usually you would put some distance between the two of you to calm down and revisit things later, but for you it was because you couldn't focus at all when he did that.

It was so fluid for him that you were certain he didn't even notice he was doing it. It was mesmerizing for him to be speaking something so exclusive that you wouldn't ever know what it meant no matter how beautifully it rolled off of his tongue.

It gave you sensations that you should not be having in the midst of an argument. It gave him such an air of strength as he stood over you gesturing frantically speaking the language that was impossible not to sound sultry.

As you got into it about wanting to go out and see more things as a couple and Ominis was just completely content to spend the rest of his life sitting in his office full of books, you were left with sticky clenched thighs as he hit his breaking point.

He looked incredible for starters. Pieces of his hair had fallen from the slicked back coif on his head, a rosy tony crept from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He had his shirt haphazardly buttoned and loose fitting slacks with little imagination as to what was - or wasn't - beneath them.

You had first barged in, miffed he had forgotten about some place you had wanted him to escort you to that day. You didn't raise your voice, but you were bitter and saying things that were pure spite.

He had spat the same back at you, neither of you was huge about raising your voices, but when he did that's when it would happen. It would be heated and you would have no idea what he was saying, but you know blushed in shame from the way the parseltongue made you feel.

Something about it just felt dirty and private, especially as you knew you were probably the only person to really hear it from him.

You snapped out of your thoughts as he placed his hands on your shoulders, confused from your silence.

"Y/N?" He said your name softly, running his thumb along your jaw.

"I'm sorry for speaking to you that way, it's just so different living a life as a duo instead of just the safety of solitude."

You looked up into his woeful gaze, "Ominis, I don't even know what you said."

He looked almost angry as the word "what" spluttered from his mouth.

"You - you were talking in parseltongue. You know that don't you? You always..." your voice faltered as his brows creased together.

He had no idea and now he wondered what awful things you must think of him. He always found it such a filthy trait that came from his family, so it must be disrespectful to you.

"This whole time? How long? I -" He turned around and took to pacing, pushing his hair back from his forehead as he rambled, "What must you think of me?"

"Ominis. I find it captivating. I know when we're upset about all these important things it isn't the time, but it - it makes my mind wander to other places."

You felt shy suddenly, knowing he was going to look at you differently and you didn't know if anything good would come from it or not. He stopped his movements, still in thought as he looked over at you.

He took slow strides towards you, tilting your chin up as he bent low to your ear, "Tell me what you're thinking then, saepʃ," he says what you believe to be your name as you had certainly heard it before. His other hand ghosts over bare skin at the low back of your blouse.

"It turns me on, Ominis, I'm just thinking about you using me and your English words escaping you and...and that's just what slips out." You bit your lip as you looked up at him nervously.

"Why don't you get on your knees so we can see what happens? You can be a good girl if I remember, right, Y/N?"

You nearly fell to the floor to obey him and it made him chuckle to for you to show your eagerness towards him, hearing the sound of your knees on the floor. He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair as a reward.

"Surely you remember what to do? You were always a good slave for my cock." Ominis had forgotten how much his words did for you, but he had a renewed curiosity wondering how far you would go with something new like parseltongue in play.

You whimpered and lulled your head against his thigh as you reached to tug his trousers to the floor. You always forgot how impressive he was, between his creamy pale thighs the pink tip of his cock stood out at you.

You wanted to take your time to see how worked up he could get, so you started out placing kisses up his thighs. You ran your tongue across his balls suckling gently and he practically hissed at you, more of that beautiful language falling from his lips.

You could feel the slick pooling between your thighs, no doubt making a mess against the floor as you teased your mouth over his full length, your spittle mixing with his pre-cum.

Suddenly, he yanked you up hard by your hair and you yelped. He pinned you to the wall and crushed his lips to yours. It was sloppy, wet, and full of harsh biting. You clutched onto him to hold yourself up, feeling hard and tense muscles beneath his shirt.

He pulled away, leaving drool dripping down your chin as he caught his breath. He didn't extend the same courtesy to you as he wrapped his fingers around your throat. His eyes met yours in a gruff tone, full of arousal.

"Good girls don't tease, my love, but you've always been naughty for me haven't you?"

You felt dizzy from the state of need he had you in as he hauled you forward, bending you over his desk. A harsh slap across your backside made you jump, his fingers roughly pressing against your sodden pants. He circled your clit through the thin material before yanking them down your legs, bloomers and all.

"Now let's see what happens when I have no control, that's what you wanted, right? To hear the filth from my lips?"

He circled your dripping lips with the tip of his cock, making you beg before he slams into you, tugging hard on your hair.

More parseltongue fell from his mouth mingled in with the command to arch your back more. His pace was slow and hard, but no the least bit controlled. He was savoring your whines as your walls contracted around him.

He had never fucked you like this, so raw and aggressive. It had been so long you savored every second of him inside of you, hitting all the right spots that had been neglected for so long.

His pace quickened as he reached a hand forward to rub circles just right on your clit. His moans were strangled as he felt himself so close, but he was determined to get you to finish with him. He brought his lips just below your ear, whispering to you the way he knew you'd been craving and it wasn't long until hot waves of pleasuring came crashing down on you.

He released you to lay face down on the desk while he desperately gripped your hips, telling you he was about to cum. You felt terribly empty as he pulled out to shoot hot ropes all over your back and reddened ass.

You whimpered and whined about how he hadn't left it inside and in response he ran his fingers through it just to stuff them in your mouth. He spoke first in English, repeating the sentiment in parseltongue.

"Next time you'll be good and I want have to punish you."

[bsxcrxts]

comfort

Luke Skywalker x fem!reader

MINORS DNI. AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT WITH MY WORKS.

word count: 5.4k longest oneshot I've ever written whoops

Contains: Luke being sad and hurt, mentions of blood and bruising (not in detail), reunion between reader and Luke post-Dagobah training and Cloud City duel, angst just due to the whole situation in general, a whole lot of tension, blowjobs, inappropriate use of the force, unprotected sex (don't do this irl unless you want a baby idk what to say), somewhat subby/needy Luke, he's pathetic. a wet cat of a man in this and I love him

A/N : This is self-indulgent, soft, nasty, and probably poorly researched. Reader's not a nurse or a doctor, just a concerned gal with a crush, and Star Wars medicine is made up anyway. I have no idea why she's on the Falcon at this point but fuck it, we ball!

You find yourself trailing after Luke in an effort to get him to rest; whatever the hell he just went through in Cloud City initially had him almost feverish, tossing around on the cot in your little makeshift medbay and muttering about things you didn't understand, things about Ben and lies and Vader. But when he sensed the latter, he shot out of bed and right back into the cockpit of the Falcon, open wounds be damned, apparently.

He just doesn't quit, you thought to yourself, momentarily enamored with his strength and somewhat miffed he's left, but then your stomach sank as you also realize you don't even know how bad the rest of his injuries even are.

You and Leia had managed to fit him with the stabilizer on his right arm before she had to excuse herself to help navigate the Falcon away from the Imperial Fleet, and you didn't get much further on assessing Luke before he snapped out of whatever fervor he'd been in and followed her. You didn't run after him, too busy trying to scour the pitiful excuse of a medkit on the Falcon for more supplies and knowing it would be a lost cause anyway– he can be incredibly headstrong when it comes to helping his friends. But you've made the jump to hyperspace now, you've felt the engines shift. It should be safe, and you're pretty sure he should really, really rest.

Creeping into the cockpit of the Falcon, you see Luke slumped in one of the second-row seats, clutching a blanket around himself. He's not speaking in hushed tones to himself anymore, but in the blue light of hyperspace, his eyes look so tired. You lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

It's not the first time you've touched him in months, but it feels like it is– you had cradled him in your arms for a moment when Leia ushered him into the room for the first time a half an hour ago, but Luke wasn't focused then, and he definitely wasn't well enough to hold conversation with you. And the last time you saw him before today was many moons ago, before he left to become a Jedi.

Luke's face snaps up to yours. Your hand is warm and welcoming on his arm, and he wants more than anything to lean into your touch, but he still feels uneasy, like he's unsure if that would be okay with you, for some reason. The recent revelations about his parentage have left him uncomfortable with himself, even if you don't know yet. If you'll ever know.

Meanwhile, your eyes rake over his features. His lip is split and he has a gash and an impact mark across his cheekbone just under his left eye. The reunion between the two of you is soured by defeat and injury, but despite yourself, when he gazes up at you, part of you insists he looks good. Really good. You linger too long on the cut on his mouth before you force yourself to snap out of it.

"Hey," you whisper. For some reason, you're embarrassed. You haven't spoken to him in a long time.

Luke has the audacity to crack a tiny smile up at you from where he's sitting, just for a moment. He breathes out your name and leans his head against your side where you're standing next to him.

"I have a headache," he says, more like he's thinking out loud than anything. It's an excuse he's made for himself to lay against you even for the briefest time, but it's also true. His head pounds.

Luke pulls away and lifts his face back up to look at you again. There's an emotion that you've never seen before behind his eyes. "Sorry," he says quietly, like it's an afterthought. Only he seems to know why he's apologizing.

"You should go lay down again. I-I can help you with the rest of your injuries and you can rest," you say.

"You’re right," Luke sighs, and stands up shakily. He doesn't stumble, but you put a steadying hand on his back anyway, just to remind him that you're there.

The short walk back to his cot is silent. It's awkward. You know you shouldn't ask about what happened, that Luke will tell you when he's ready, but you don't know what else to say, so you say nothing.

When you do start speaking, your words just sort of tumble out. You're talking to fill the space. Luke has never been this quiet before.

"Here," you gesture, "sit on the edge of the bed. I know I said you could lay down, but I'm worried you're concussed, so maybe you shouldn't fall asleep. You said you have a headache. Do you think you have a concussion?" you ask, as if he'd know.

For his part, Luke just shakes his head at you. "I'll be alright," he insists. He doesn't know if he believes it, but he can't think of anything else to tell you to make you feel better.

Right, you think. Stubborn. Luke occasionally has a sense of over-confidence about himself, you've seen it when he talks about piloting or whatnot, and he's never been wrong about his limits, just cocky, but this time it seems almost put-on, like a show. You let it slide.

"I know," you say, and softly smile at him. When he halfheartedly returns your smile, it pulls on the cut on his lip, and you remember why you're here.

You retrieve a wet cloth and start dabbing at the sticky, tacky blood decorating his face. You take his chin in your other hand, and Luke closes his eyes while you wipe at the near-dried blood. His eyebrows knit when you get too close to a bruise, but he doesn't outwardly complain, and you move on swiftly.

Your heart is beating far too quickly given Luke's condition. He is seriously injured, and clearly went through something not only physically horrible but also mentally taxing back in Cloud City, but he's gorgeous right now.

The way his hair is parted and tousled reminds you of what he's looked like in the past, under much more pleasant circumstances. You don't know what you are to Luke; you have an absolute raging crush on him and he obviously likes you too, but he leaves to go off on his own. A lot. The two of you never talk about it. If you acted on your arousal, it actually wouldn't be the first time you'd have slept with him after he narrowly escaped death, but this feels... different.

Luke breathes out a little sigh as you glide the cloth across his cheekbone. Your stomach ties itself in knots, and you freeze.

He notices that you've paused your ministrations and opens his eyes, looking up at you expectantly. His eyes are the clearest you've seen from him today, and just as blue as always. You panic a bit, hoping he can't perceive your inappropriately-timed desire.

"I need to grab some bacta," you mutter, and remove your hand from his chin.

This time when you return, he keeps his eyes open.

Luke can sense something from you, but he isn't sure what. His relationship with the Force isn't in the best shape, but he knows you've been thinking very hard about something and he's almost afraid to find out what.

“You must be sick of taking care of me," Luke ventures as you carefully apply the bacta gel to a cut on his forehead. "Ever since you got to know me, I just keep getting hurt.”

He says it in that tone he uses when he's making a dry joke that isn't a joke at all.

“Hey, I’ll always help clean you up," you reassure.

"At least both sides of my face will be even now," he continues, referring to the scarring on his left side from the Wampa attack earlier that year.

"You look– you look good," you stutter out, finding yourself shy again. Luke doesn't even take the compliment before he keeps going.

“You’re not put-off?”

“By what?”

It's quiet. Luke doesn't answer. You realize he's talking about the fact he lost his hand in the battle. You sink down to sit next to him, forgotten bacta pack dropped to the floor.

"Luke, no, I don't think–"

“He said some things about me…" Luke trails off, and you know the unnamed he in that sentence means Vader. "I’m worried I’ll turn out like him. That I’ll fall to the dark side. But I can’t stand by and do nothing, I can’t,” he insists, passionate.

“You’re not like him."

Luke looks down at his feet, unconvinced.

You lean over and kiss his cheek, meaning to comfort him, watching a blush spread over his features.

"You're not him, okay?" you reaffirm, face feeling heated. Your hands slide over his arm and down his back in a reassuring motion. You intended to pull away to get more bacta, but Luke leans into you.

"Can I–?" he asks softly. You nod, and he catches your mouth in another kiss.

He's overeager, teeth clacking against yours as he licks into your mouth and tries to get as close to you as bodily possible. In contrast, you try to stay gentle, refusing to even playfully nip at him like you otherwise might. The gash on his upper lip splits open anyway, sending him a shock of pain that should stop his motions, but he just groans into your mouth and keeps kissing you.

"You're bleeding!" you exclaim as taste blood and break away from him.

"S'okay," Luke whines, protesting your concern. It's evident how much he doesn't want to stop; he follows you as you pull away, tilting forward. You ignore the rush of arousal flooding your system at his shameless display and grab a bit of gauze and press it to the scrape.

"Look, it's fine. See?" Luke asserts when there's hardly even a few drops of his blood on the cloth as you remove it. Obviously vying to kiss you again.

It's hard to resist him and his pleading puppy-like eyes. You press a quick peck to his forehead.

"Hold still," you say, "I need to put a bit of bacta on that so it heals." It's the justification you're using, because if he keeps kissing you, you're going to lose control and the little scrape will never heal. Luke decides to give in to you as the voice of reason.

"There," you state when you've finished with his face. "Now..." you trail off, eyeing the gashes through the fabric of his fatigues and once again feeling bizarrely nervous, "You should. You should take your shirt off next."

"Right," he sighs, feeling unsure. He reaches up with his left hand and starts undoing the fastens on his shirt.

"I could help you?" you offer softly.

"Sure," he nods.

You gently help him out of his shirt, careful of the cut in his upper left arm and scrape across his elbow that tore through even the fabric of the shirt. The shirt is falling apart, burned in places and ripped in others, and you sort of drop the fabric off to the side, unsure if it's salvageable.

When you look back up, the breath feels like it's been punched out of you.

Luke was always lean, a scrappy sort of muscular but this is new. You remind yourself you haven't seen him in months and that he's been off doing stars-know-what during his Jedi training. Behind the bruises and scrapes, he's built a bit of muscle, more defined than last time. Your eyes dart across his body; his arms alone have you biting your lip, feeling more butterflies in your stomach than ever before.

Luke catches you looking at him, catches you eyeing him up and down like you'd like to devour him, and he just gazes back at you. The blush on his cheeks from earlier never went away.

You convince yourself to slow down and wipe the dried blood off his arms and torso. There's no way to avoid how close the two of you are; you've practically wormed your way into standing between his legs as you dab bacta on the cuts and bruises that litter his midsection. Shamefully, you think about how good he smells, sweat be damned.

Luke audibly groans when you slide your hand across his shoulders in preparation to hold his arm up while you apply the medical salve. Your fingers dig slightly in to his sore musculature and he can't hold back.

"Sorry," you choke out, "want me to stop?"

"Mm-mm. Feels good, actually."

You feel another crack in your resolve form as you slather bacta along his cuts and bruises.

Luke is far enough gone himself, and you try not to notice. His breathing rate increased the second you started touching him, and he knows a hard-on would be ill-timed right now, but he kind of doesn't care that he can feel a tent beginning to form in his pants. It's a welcome distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, and he really, really missed you. The feeling of your hands on his body is unparalleled, so welcome and warm.

The logical choice of waiting even a day in order to prevent his wounds from re-opening is losing appeal for him.

You, however, continue to grasp onto logic. Not meeting his eyes as you finish applying the bacta, you step away from him and turn to fiddle with the medkit.

“Okay, I think it's alright for you to lay down now. I’ll go so you can rest," you say. You don't want to leave him, but it's the responsible thing. You'll go lay in your own bunk and mind your own business. He's hurt, he needs repose, he– 

“Don’t go.”

Not turning around, you go to answer. “Luke, you need—"

“I need you,” Luke insists, desperately. He reaches out and grabs your wrist lightly, like he moved without thinking.

It's very calculated, however, when you turn around and he raises your hand to his cheek and plants a kiss on the palm of your hand.

"Please?" he breathes, eyes wide, looking up at you and begging. His hand hasn't left yours where it rests on the side of his face.

“Oh, baby,” you sigh adoringly, your heartbeat in your throat and your determination to let him alone long gone as you return to stand in between his spread legs. You'd normally settle down on his thighs and grind against him, where you know Luke likes you best, but right now you're sure to be gentle as you can. You're a bit worried about whatever unknown bruising could be beneath the pants he didn't even get off before he couldn't resist you anymore.

“Kriff, it’s been so long. Missed you,” Luke mutters against your mouth between kisses.

"Yeah?" you ask, losing the brain capacity to answer coherently as Luke buries his face in the crook of your shoulder and sucks a kiss into the juncture of your skin.

Any gentle peck you try to give Luke turns dirty as he doubles down in passion every time, almost refusing to let any kiss end until the two of you are gasping for air. He's desperate to touch you, and yes, your hands are cradling his face and he loves it, but you're still somewhat leaning away from him, standing over him as he sits in front of you. He wants.

It's accidental, what happens next. You feel a sudden pressure against your lower back that nudges at you until you tip forward, catching yourself just inches before you would have fallen against Luke, your knee coming to rest in between the junction of his legs. In your new position, he immediately grinds his hard cock on your thigh, the drag of his sizeable length suddenly against you. It's accidental, but it's what he needs.

You break the kiss and gasp. The Falcon hasn't shifted out of hyperspace and you're not off-balance.

"Baby?" you inquire, the question unspoken. Did you just use the Force to move me? Many of Luke's abilities are new. If it was him, it was a recent development, at least in your experience.

"'m sorry," Luke whines, "I didn't mean to– I don't know what happened," but even as he says it, he's practically fucking himself against you, the strain of his bulge in his khaki pants borderline painful.

You're too turned on to even admonish him. You wouldn't if you could. You liked it, liked how his growing desire for you was overwhelming him to the point of losing control.

"Need me that bad?" you tease.

You hardly expect a response, but Luke keens and thrusts hard against your leg, his cock aching and his voice catching on a moan. "Ah-h!! Angel, I told you I do," he mewls. The flush on his face is as red as you've ever seen him.

“Let me take care of you,” you coo as you sink down onto the floor. Unable to resist, you shove your nose against Luke's clothed cock, inhaling his scent and mouthing at him over his disgusting khakis.

"Oh that's– you don't have to–" Luke starts, squirming.

"Want to," you answer, kissing and licking at his bulge until the fabric covering him is damp, from his dripping cock or from your mouth, you aren't sure. His dick throbs, straining painfully against his clothing. "Wanna see your pretty cock even more though," you continue.

You don't have to tell him twice. He scrambles to unzip his pants and you help him, pulling his flushed cock from the confines of his underwear. It bobs against his stomach and smears pre-cum across his torso, across his newly-defined abs. Unable to help yourself, you lean up and lick a bit of the pre-spend off of him, which only makes his erection kick and leak more.

You place an open-mouthed kiss to his cock as you move lower, and then take him into your mouth.

"F-fuck! Your mouth, oh, you ffeel s' ohh," Luke exclaims, incoherent when you first take him into your throat, fisting the rest of his cock in your hand as you bob up and down on him. He almost thrashes, hips jerking forward and hand coming to rest in your hair, not pulling just there, a guiding weight that has you moving at an even pace, sucking at the head of his cock and popping off of him every once in a while to kiss the underside or tip of his member and make him writhe underneath you. Your cunt clenches around nothing when he moans or squirms for you.

As you slide your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva still connecting you to his tip, his body jerks. He fucks his cock against your lips and his hips stutter against your mouth, like he can't take one second without you.

"Stars, baby, like my mouth that much?"

"I like all of you that much."

His declaration is unbearably hot, and you reward him by deepthroating him as far as you can take him, throat constricting around him and your eyes watering.

Luke inhales sharply, surprised by your sudden action.

“S-stop.”

“Is something wrong?” you ask, pulling off of him, immediately conscious of his delicate state and concerned he's started bleeding or something like that.

“'m close. Almost came,” Luke admits shyly, looking off to the side and not meeting your eyes. He still isn't quite comfortable with how fast his body finishes with you, even though you've told him several times how much his eagerness and sensitivity turned you on.

“That's the point, right?” you affirm lightly, running a hand up his thigh. "You wanna cum in my mouth?"

Luke looks at you, blushing fiercely. “I don't wanna cum yet at all," he whines, softly guiding you up from your kneeling position on the floor. He kisses you, absolutely claiming your mouth before he nuzzles his face into your neck, "I don't want this to be over," he confesses, and he sounds both desperate and a bit sad.

"Doesn't have to be," you say, settling into a somewhat more dominant role, but keeping your tone is still gentle. He's liked it in the past when you take the lead, so you try it out. "Tell me what you want."

The shift in your attitude has Luke suddenly shameless, pressing himself bodily against you until the two of you can't honestly get any physically closer.

"I wanna be inside you. I-inside your pussy,” he whines.

His words send shockwaves up your spine and you bite your lip, clenching around nothing.

"A-and," he chokes out, rutting against your thigh like he's an animal, "I want you to make me wait."

You won't make him clarify the last part. You're plenty aware that's his way of asking you to edge him, to control his orgasm so he doesn't finish 'too soon', a game you've played before with him, and he's already shy about it. It makes sense right now, especially since you're basically letting him use you like a distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, that he doesn't want this to end.

"Ask me nicely," you urge.

"Please can I fuck your pussy?" Luke gasps.

"Fuck yes, oh my god," you answer, kissing him and shoving your pants and undergarments off and straddling his lap. "Need your fingers first though. C'mere," you grab at his hand and pull his digits along your slit.

Luke almost wants to groan in protest, feeling suddenly very impatient, but he practically chokes as he runs his fingers through your wetness. His eyes roll back in his head when he slips a finger inside of you, shocked at your state of arousal, and you loosely wrap your hand around his dick. He starts grinding against your hand immediately and you know you're going to have to slow him down eventually if he wants to last.

"Shit, u-um," he throws his head back to look up at you. "You're soaked. Just f-from having your mouth on me?" he ventures, feeling like he needs reassurance in this moment for some reason.

“Mm! Been– been getting like this since you started making those cute noises while I was patching you up.”

"Yeah?" Luke is soaking the praise up, working his fingers in and out of you and across your clit with as much focus as he can. He's inexperienced with his left hand, but you'd never guess. Your cunt is dripping around him down to his wrist.

"You make such perfect sounds, baby," you promise him. "Ah-h!" you exclaim when he brushes up against that spot inside you, "fuck, baby, keep going."

Luke nods against you. "Keep talking? Please?" he asks, so sweetly.

"I never get used to how big you are. You have such a pretty cock, Luke. Helping me first so I can even think about taking it."

He sinks two digits to the knuckles into you cunt and presses hard on your g-spot.

"Ohh-!! Baby!" you shout, caught off guard. "You're so good– so good, such a good boy f' me."

"C-close," he whines. He's already that far gone, even from this uncoordinated dry-humping half handjob, face a mess, dick literally twitching in your hand from the praise you're directing at him. You take your hand away from his cock since he asked to be denied. He makes no move to stop his motions on you, so you let him finger you open with his hand and play with you for a while longer.

When he's calmed down a bit and you do sink down onto him, your combined juices make a disgustingly lewd wet noise and you both breathe out moans. There's still a stretch; Luke is bigger than most, and you haven't had anyone since he left. You haven't had anyone else since the first time with him, at all.

“I-I was bad," Luke suddenly states as you work to take his length inside your dripping core. Any position takes work to fit his cock in your cunt, but riding him takes the most.

“Oh honey, no, you feel amazing for me,” you reassure, both remembering his insecurity earlier and thinking about how full his cock is making you feel.

“Nno I– don't mean. I mean..." he breathes and pauses, "I thought about you whi-while I was training. I wasn’t supposed to."

"What do you mean?" you ask gently.

"Not 'posed to have attachments. Feelings," Luke gasps, thrusting up once into your soaked cunt before his hips settle into a slow grind. He's toying with the edge of your shirt that you forgot to take off earlier, running his hand tentatively under the seam. He's shy, not meeting your eyes again even though he's literally inside you right now. In a way, you understand that he's confessing something very secret to you and you're reeling a bit.

'Missed you," he says earnestly for the second time this evening when you don't say anything back right away. His gaze finally lands on yours and something is electric in the air. He's practically given you his love confession several times in the last hour but this feels different.

"I don't think that's bad," you say, barely above a whisper. "Not at all. I missed you too," you kiss him again, rolling your hips.

And then, “What’d you think about?” because you can't resist.

Luke's hips go back to a stuttering pace, alternating between grinding up into you and the occasional rogue thrust, like he's holding himself back.

"Uh-uhm," he falters, fighting self-consciousness at sharing his fantasies, but the words start spilling out of his mouth anyway, "The way you smile at me when you're f-flirting. What it feels like to kiss you. A-and I thought about your hands and what they feel like on me. When you hold me, or... or when they're wrapped around- ugh m-my cock."

You gasp, but Luke continues without pause.

"How I wanna fuck you slow in bed in the morning. I'll be good. I-I can make it good f' you. Worth waking up early for," he promises. It's startlingly domestic, but before you can linger on it, he keeps going. "Missed your– haa, ah, your pretty tits, too."

"What about them?"

"How gorgeous they are. How you look when you don't wear a bra. C-can't look away."

"You wanna see?" you ask, surprised he hasn't asked you to take your shirt off earlier.

Luke whines, eyes hooded as he nods. "Please."

You practically throw your shirt off and unclasp your bra in record time.

You shift, pushing your chest towards him where he sits, as a desire to give him everything he's ever wanted burns inside of you. He deserves it. He's supposed to have been solely concentrated on learning to be a Jedi– and he clearly has been training– but on top of it, all he's admitting to focusing on not only just some ancient mystic wisdom but also on you, too. You think you love him.

You run your fingers across the nape of his neck and pull on his golden locks, guiding him towards your tits.

You roll your hips against him, pussy clenching around him as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, rolling the bud over his tongue and moaning with every breath.

"Fuck! D-don't move like that. I-I'll cum. M'gonna cum."

"Want you to," you say, but you stop your motions anyway.

"N-not yet," he chokes out. "You haven't– I want it to be good for you," drooling against your tits.

“Stars, you're so sweet. Look how good you’re being for me right now,” and he is being good. He’s being so good, so considerate, and your pussy involuntarily tightens around him again at the thought.

"O-oh shit, I can't take it, I c-can't fucking take it," Luke voice shakes, and in an impressive show of strength for his current state, he pulls out of you and flips your positions so you're laying on the cot and he rests on his knees between your thighs. He doesn't push back inside you; his cock rests against your clit, and he distracts you by leaning down to kiss you for a moment. It's his way of stalling; you know he needs a moment to hold back from finishing.

Even though it feels nice, the contact is not enough, not when you've had a taste of him inside your walls already, and you let yourself paw needily at him, trying to get him to slip in.

"You're as bad as I am, aren't you?" Luke huffs lightly, amused.

"Yeah," you breathe "I just want you, so bad."

“I– I thought I might've sensed that,” Luke says, almost sounding smug momentarily, happy with your response, "through the Force, but I- I wasn't sure if it was just my own desire," he drops that absolute bombshell on you before he mercifully slips back inside you and sets a rapid pace. Your hands fly above you to brace yourself against the wall of the nook.

"S-shit! Baby! Y-you can hear what I'm thinking?"

Luke groans, dropping his head and trying to formulate a coherent response. "Kind of. It's more like I feel... intentions, if you think really hard about something, I-I can sense–"

Your eyes flutter closed, and the way your cunt tightens around his dick cuts Luke off completely. You're rapidly spiraling towards your own high, his words and his cock wrecking you.

All your energy goes into projecting as much lust as you possibly can at him; you're running through every fantasy you've ever had, every dirty thought about him that's ever crossed your mind in an effort to get him to pick up on your emotions. It works, and Luke has to catch himself with his hand before he collapses on top of you.

"Haah, ahh," he whimpers, "That's- that's- y' feel like that about me?" he asks, his eyes rolling back in his head. He's positively losing control, his hips grinding into yours as he pounds into your pussy.

"Yes," you insist, "god, Luke, you fuck me so good, don't fucking stop."

Luke's cute little whines are coming more frequently, his thrusts more erratic, but he doesn't stop. You know him well enough to know he's not going to be able to hold off much longer, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his thighs nearly shaking with effort. Your own high is rapidly approaching.

"Close?" you ask.

"Y-yeah, been close," Luke answers with a bit of humor. “Please let me make you cum first. I just wanna make you cum first,” he cries out, pussydrunk and unable to think of anything other than his and your impending orgasm.

He sits upright again, pulling you in one swift motion by your hips to meet his, then rubs at your clit, circling you. The last inch of his cock slotting into you and the extra stimulation is the only thing you needed to push you over the edge, grinding down on him and yelling his name.

When you come down seconds later, you're met with Luke's gasping moans and begging. He's lost any self control he was able to display before, falling apart in front of you and inside you.

"Ah-haah, fu-fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, am I allowed– can I cum inside you? Please can I cum in you?" he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers in his.

"Oh Luke, give it to me, baby, please!"

He groans, accompanied by a nearly incoherent mumbling of your name as he spills inside you, hand squeezing yours. His cock gives a jolt inside of you and the feeling of being filled by his spend makes you topple over the edge again, overstimulated. There's so much of his cum that you feel it drip down your thigh before he even pulls out and you wonder when the last time he let himself cum was at all. He curses and cries out under his breath when you tighten around him a second time, aftershocks still traveling through his body as he collapses next to you in the tiny alcove of the wall.

"Love you," he confesses in a hushed tone as he settles there against you, his face tucked shyly into your shoulder.

"Love you back. You have me," you answer with a quiet confidence. When he looks at you, you see the tiniest pinpricks of tears in his eyes.

"Hey," you run a hand along his back, "it'll be okay."

"Yeah," Luke nods against you. It will be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I don't know how clear I've made it but when I was writing this I was imagining reader and Luke having a sort of on-again-off-again thing (due to the whole Jedi training and extended amounts of time apart) in the past, and that she'd mayyyybe also "comforted" him after Hoth, mayhaps one day I write a prequel to this fic? idk yall know me and following through so no promises lol

[luimagines]

Hello!!! Can i request the inverse of the loopy request? Instead of the reader being loopy it's the boys (and them having feelings for the reading)!! thank you!!!

I hear y'all loud and clear! Coming right up! 

I completely miffed on the fact that you wanted it to be romantically inclined but I tried to keep it as platonic as piningly possible. Which means, there’s implications. but in some more than others. Enjoy. <3

Masterlist

Immediate Link, boys under the cut!

***

Link wasn’t entirely sure what to think about when they were traveling some place new. He was sure that at this point he had seen nearly everything his world had to offer. Sure the others had some interesting stuff that his didn’t but that didn’t change the fact that Hyrule was still going to Hyrule no matter which way you looked at it.

This plant was new though.

Not even the hero of this era new what it was.

It was a strange flower, bright purple with yellow spots on the petals and blue leaves with stripes. No one new where it came from and no one else had seen anything like it.

Something told Link to investigate. It could have come from that shadow being that’s been running from them and chasing them all the same. But it could also be dangerous regardless of origin. He has to be careful.

He pokes it.

It explodes with golden powder that shoots right into his face.

Link stumbles back, coughing up a storm and tearing up from the exposure. He tries to swat it away as he recoils from the strange flower. That’s weird. He feels incredibly light headed all of a sudden. His fingers go a bit numb and it’s hard to stand straight.

He can hear his name being called from the distance. He needs to warn the others to not touch the plants.

“Are you ok?”  It’s you.

Four

“Don’t.” Four scrambles backwards. “Don’t come closer. Bad plant. That’s a really really bad plant. Stay away.”

“Four?” You ask carefully. You stop as he asks, but mostly because he doesn’t seem to stable. He’s wobbling and unsteady on his feet. It seems he can no longer tell his left from his right.

Only when his eyes close and he tilts dangerously to one side that you run and catch him. 

“Link?” You shake him slightly.

His head lulls back before he snaps it back to look at you. The action is so violent that you flinch and shift out of the way so that he doesn’t smack your face with his. His eyes go really wide and his jaw drops. “Woooaaahh...”

“What?” You’re hesitant to ask. It’s certainly clear now that the plant did something to Four to knock him off of his rocker.

Four continues to stare at your face. He falls to his knees and you’re forced to fall with him to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. “You’re so perfect.”

Your react as if you were smacked. “Wha- what?”

“So pretty...” Four reaches out and brushes a bit of your hair away from your face.

It’s a bit off putting given that he’s probably seeing something beyond reality at the moment.

You sigh and try to get him back to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“Like one of the gods.” Four whispers to himself.

“Now I know you’ve gone delusional. No more bad plant for you.” You’ll have to apologize for it later if he remembers, but you manhandle him onto your back and begin to carry him piggy back style to where the others are. Hopefully someone there will be able to make an antidote or something. If not, then at least he won’t be unsupervised.

Four unexpectantly hugs you from behind hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He sighs happily. “You smell nice.”

You can feel the hints of his smile against your skin and try to keep yourself from blushing. “Thank you. I borrow some soap from Wild. He says he buys it at the Gerudo Market.”

“...Zelda would like some...” Four mutters as his hands come up to pay with your hair some more. “Get some.... soap...”

“Oh buddy that thingy messed you up big time.” You pat his hand and try to makes sure Four doesn’t lean backwards and throw himself of off you. “We’ll get you some help in the meantime ok?”

Four hums and taps a beat onto your head that you can’t decipher. It’s off beat with the melody coming from his mouth so maybe they’re not related at all.

You look up and try to see if Four is up to something but he seems too busy lost in his own head to even realize that he’s moving. Or rather, that you’re moving and he’s on your back. Something you’ve seen him yell at Twilight for, for reason you’re not entirely sure of but the fact that he’s letting you do the same no problem is not a gift horse you’re willing to look in the mouth.

The group starts to come into view and you can feel relief enter your bones. “Good. Thank god. Maybe we can get you all fixed up then buddy.”

“What if we were married?” He blurts.

You trip and land harshly on your knee. “Oh, I think I liked it better when you were quiet.”

“It could be in summer and it would be very nice and pretty.”

“Four please.”

“You can meet my dad and my grandpa.”

“I would love to meet them but please drop this.”

“...The group should be there too.”

You sigh and hang your head in defeat. If he keeps at it then it’s going to be a long day.

Wind

You ran up to Wind and began looking him over for injuries. “Wind? Pirate? Are you ok? What happened?”

Wind shakes his head, a horrible decision in hindsight and holds his head, groaning as the pain sets in. “Ouch.... That’s a bad plant.”

You pause and look at the plant he’s next to. It’s covered in the golden pollen and the ground around you two is dusted. 

You gasps and step away from it, dragging Wind with you.

Wind begins to sway in place, even though you try your hardest to keep him standing straight. He says your name. Once... Twice...

“I want...” He whines. “I want them...”

You bite your lip, a sound of uncertainty leaving your mind. “I’m here. I’m here, Wind. It’s ok. Let’s go get you to the others. They can help, ok?”

Wind slumps forward for a moment. “Where’s Aryll?” He says in a daze. “...’n’ Grandma...” 

“They’re back home, Link.” You say his name in hopes of getting through to him. “They’re safe and they’ll be ok.”

Wind nods for a moment before he falls into your arms. “Hug.”

You groan at the added weight. “Wind, please...You’ve gotten too big to do this. I’m not Twilight or Warrior....Or Time for that matter!”

“I want...” Wind says your name again and you try to not let tears well up in your eyes. Can’t he see that you’re right in front of him? Why does he keep asking for you?

You whine again and try to push him off and onto his own feet. “Then we’ll go get them, ok?”

You ignore the sting in your heart when you dismiss your identity. Wind isn’t in his right mind right now and if he think you’re going to comfort him then you’ll do it.

“This way.” You wrap his arm around your shoulders and begin to walk.

Wind can hardly hold his head up but he walks with you as you try to get back to camp. Maybe Hyrule can help him. Or Four. Sky is good with herbal remedies as well. If anything, Twilight and Warrior can keep a look out for him and someone would be able to help him.

“I had hiccups once.” Wind nods solemnly. 

You give him a strange look. “Yeah? Then what happened? Did the world explode?”

“I had to be quiet.” Wind says. “And the hiccups were really loud. Even though the barrel could hide my face and body.. except my toes... I couldn’t stop my hiccups. Monsters would find me and then I had to run.”

“A...barrel?” You raises an eyebrow, passing Wild. You give the other a pleading look. “Get help? He’s being affected by a weird plant.”

Wild’s eyes widen and he takes off like a shot to talk to the others and get Wind the help he needs. You sigh in relief, letting the tension in your muscles fall for a little bit. Now you don’t have to do this alone.

Wind keeps talking, not even seeing the scarred boy. “A barrel! To hide in! It was bigger than me! and I had to walk around the monster hide out and sneak round! Be sneaky! When they turned, I sat down! No one saw me!”

“Wind I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You admit regretfully.

“I was suuuuuuper sneaky!” Wind yells and throws himself backwards, nearly taking you out with him. “But I had hiccups.”

“I’m sorry you had hiccups.” You say with gritted teeth as you force him back up.

“Oh my goodness....” Warrior sighs as he turns the corner. “I got him, hold on.”

He walks towards you and hauls Wind onto his back without breaking a sweat. “Let’s go.”

“CapTAIn!!” Wind hollers right next to his ear. “I don’t feel good.”

“I believe it, Pirate.” He shakes his head.

You follow quickly. Maybe when he’s put down again he’ll figure out that you would be right next to him until he gets better.

Hyrule

Hyrule takes a moment to study you as you approach him. Only for you to suddenly stop. You can see Hyrule make a face in confusion before he points to something behind your head.

“You.”

Your eyes widen and you look behind you. A shadow being flies over your shoulder as it always has and it flies past you to hover around Hyrule for a cycle. Hyrule doesn’t seem to notice.

You take a step forward. “Hyrule?... Traveler?”

You wave you hand in front of his face and he grins, waving back. “Hello!”

You gulp. “Oh Rulie- what happened to you?”

He sways in place. “...Rulie? That’s not my name, silly! My name is Link!”

The boy takes a step forward and before you can even think to hold him steady he falls flat on his face. The sound is mildly unsettling. you’re not sure if he broke his nose or if he just popped a joint in his neck or arms.

He pushes himself up without a care and sends you a smile. “It tastes!”

You wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t and face plants into the dirt again.

You and the shadow share a look and look at Hyrule. He’s clearly more than content to face his face firmly on the ground and makes no other moves to remove himself from that position. 

That’s when you realize something. “Hey! DON’T EAT THE DIRT!”

You dive down and forcibly roll Hyrule over, dragging by the back of his collar if need be to get him to have his face up. “Link, you’re killing me here. What is wrong with you?”

Link licks some of the dirt that collected around his lips and makes a sound of satisfaction.

You see the shadow shake it’s head and dip into the earth, only to drag Hyrule forward by his own shadow. It’s not the most dignifying experience seeing as you’ve had the shadow do the same to you when you’re being especially stubborn- but something tells you that Hyrule won’t mind it too much.

Hyrule gasps when he starts to move and looks up at the trees around you. “Giant apples!”

You look up to try and see what he’s seeing but there’s no apple trees in sight. Just pine trees actually. Only pine trees. You face palm. “The one guy who would probably be able to help this ... is you. So I guess we’re waiting this out.”

“...The pastry mushroom man...”

You bite back a whine and run your hands through your hair in frustration. “I’m going to need someone else to do this. Before I lose my mind.”

The shadow raises from the ground somewhat to pointed look at you- even though there’s no face on the creature. You stare back at it and sag your shoulders. “I know I have you! But the others can’t know you’re here so you have to go away again soon!...”

It doesn’t let up it’s stare, expecting a different reaction from you. You pout and try to sound as sincere as possible. “Thank you for taking him. I probably could have done it myself and now I don’t have to.”

The shadow ducks back down and contiue to carry Hyrule through the forest and back to the camp.

You shake your head, trying to block out Hyrule’s incoherent babbling. He’s taken to singing- purposefully doing so off key. At least you’d hope he is.

You hope the shadow can carry Hyrule fully into the camp. If you have to stop and pick the poor sap up and then have him in your ear...

Well you don’t think the others would take kindly to you duck taping his mouth shut. So you’re praying for small mercies.

Time

Time falls to his knees. “Stay back. You could be next.”

“Ok... That’s more ominous than I think you intended that to sound like.” You say in a nervous, if joking manner. “Are you ok Old Man?”

Time groans and places his hand on his head. “I didn’t think it would be this reactive. I’m not sure... I feel... Funny.”

You seen him fall over still barely able to keep himself from falling to his side. Concerned you rush to his side landing on your knee next to him.

He groans. “This is not going to be good.”

You bite your lip and try to rub the top if Time’s shoulders to help him feel better. It’s not the best place to do it but you doubt he would feel it through his armor regardless.

He lurches forward and forces his hand to his mouth.

“Time?” You move with him, concern written on al of your features.

“Be patient, My Flower.” He gulps it down with clear strain to his efforts. “I will be fine.”

You pause and feel your cheek blush lightly. “Flower?”

Time nods and tries to stand. He fails, falling down once more. ”Yes. A flower. Like the potency of a bloom which renders even the strongest men senseless, someone as gentle and alluring such as yourself can leave a lasting impression on ones mental prowess.”

“Time, what are you talking about?” You frown and move in front of him and cup his jaw with your hands. “You’re warm... And this fast...”

It’s concerning to say the least.

Time leans into your touch. “I would have never guessed...”

You furrow your eyebrows and lean forward. “What? Time, talk to me? How am I supposed to help you?”

Time groans in his throat and lulls his head to the side, putting most of its weight into your hand. “...Soft.”

“Ooohh dear...” You curse internally and go to stand up. “I’m going to go get Twilight and Hyrule, ok? We can get you back to camp and look you over and help you get better-”

Time catches your hand before you can leave. You look down at him in shock and freeze in place.

Time gives you the softest look and pulls you back toward him. You stumble, falling to your knees before you can crash against him completely. Your free hand lands on his shoulder and your right front of his nose. He takes a breath. “Stay?”

You breathe with him and put your hand on your heart. “Time... I can’t carry you. I need help... You can barely stand, let alone walk. I can’t do this alone.”

Time shakes his head and holds you closer, pulling you into his lap. “Please?”

Your voice stalls in your throat and all breath leaves you. For a moment his earlier words make sense. But you don’t think you would have compared Time to a flower. An awe inspiring wall would be better, but you’re in your right mind to not say it out loud.

You gulp and nod and Time smiles. His arms wrap around you and his buries his face in the crook of your neck. He takes a breath and snuggles you.

You hope that someone can help you not only get out of this but also Time some help. You’re mostly hoping that it’s Sky or Twilight to find you.

Neither of them would hold it over your heads.

Wild

Wild starts coughing up a storm and he frantically waves in the vague direction of the plant. “Don’t touch. It’s bad. Really bad.”

You rush him and put your hands on his shoulders. Wild grins your way and begin to giggle like a mad man. You wince. “Ooh-kay. I believe you now. Weird looking plant is bad. I won’t touch it. Please snap out of it now.”

Wild sways a little bit more, continuously giggling. “Hello beautiful. How are you today?”

You sag your shoulders. “I would be doing better if you would act like yourself.”

Wild shrugs. “I feel.... funny.”

He flops forward and you have to catch him before he plants his face into the dirt by his feet. He makes a move similar to a dry heave and thankfully only burps- but the action has you gagging as a result.

“Oh my goodness.” You gag again. “Ok, let’s get you to someone who actually knows what they’re doing and can deal with all of this.”

Wild whines and clutches his head. “Oh. Ow. Ow. Head hurts.”

You whine with him and try to get him to follow you. “Come on buddy. Let’s go get you some help, ok? And then you’ll feel all better again, I promise.”

Wild tries to follow you even if his steady are unsteady and unbalanced. You end up having to pull him in the right direction more often than not before you clench your teeth and throw him onto your back. The added weight is a bit much in the beginning and you nearly fall over, twice, before you find your own footing but all in all, you think you might able to make it back to others much faster this way.

“You smell nice.”

“Thank you, Wild.”

“Your hair is soft.”

“Thank you, Wild.”

“Can I hug you?”

You look behind you to stare at him with an incredulous look and sigh. “What do you call this then?”

“Saving me from Twilight.” He grumbles by your ear.

You snort before you start laughing out loud. “What? What does that even mean? How does this save you from Twilight?”

“He wouldn’t be so nice about it.” Wild pouts and you can hear it in the way he speaks. “He could do the same but he would lecture me the entire time without knowing what happened. That’s why I like you more. You’re fun and you go on adventures with me. We can talk and explore and share stories and you’re my best friend.”

You can feel your heart flutter a bit at his honest words. “I thought Zelda was your best friend.”

“I can have more than one best friend.” He mutters. “I like you and think you’re cool. You’re so cool.”

“Cooler than Time?”

“Everyone’s cooler than Time.”

You laugh again. “That’s not inherently true and you know it!”

“But you are and that’s what’s important.” Wild suddenly grins bright enough to rival the sun. “And you’re important. Important to me. And to us. And to our people. And to the world!”

“That might be stretching it a bit, buddy.” You smile softly. “But thank you. You’re important to me too.”

Wild heaves against  your back and you have to stop in your tracks to not follow suit. “I really wish you don’t throw up on me though.”

“I’ll try not to.” Wild grunts.

You sigh. Time to get him to the group and get some antidote going. Before you have to throw out your favorite shirt.

Twilight

He looks up and beams. Oh, you’re so lovely. You care about him.

Twilight nods and grins as wide as he can. He stumbles a bit but manages to stay on his own two feet. He leans backwards at a precarious angle though and it worries you that he’s not himself.

“Are you hurt?” You ask again.

Twilight giggles and shakes his head. “Nope! A bit dizzy but I’m ok, Darlin’. no need to worry about lil’ ol’ me.”

He leans back forward in what you hope was to change his balance and rectify it but instead he just get closer to you than he would have on any other day. His hands come up to your cheeks and his fingertips just... ever so slightly brush against your skin.

“Why so glum, Pumpkin?” He whispers. 

Your breath hitches and he leans closer. “I’m ok, honest.”

You can’t help but to laugh nervously. “No. No, you’re not. Let’s go get you some water and maybe a nap and see how you’re feeling after that, ok?”

Twilight hums. His head does feel funny still. But he makes no move to follow you.

You grab his hand and begin to pull him along. He sighs in what you can only describe as dreamy and eventually follows along with you. Twilight bumps your hip with his and gently moves so that his head is resting against yours, nuzzling as slowly as he can manage without making his strange head situation worse.

“Twilight.” You whisper, needing to compensate for the added weight. “You’re not making this any easier you know!”

“Sorry.” He says, not changing anything about the way he’s leaning against you. Twilight takes a breath in and you can feel him smile. “You smell nice.”

You try to not groan, even as a blush comes over your face. “Thank you.”

“And I like talking to you.” He keeps talking. “Did you know that?”

“Do you now?” You snort. “I like talking to you too.”

“I also like hugging you.” He nods, as if the statement was fact itself. “Very nice. Warm and soft. You’re soft. I like it. I like you.”

You swallow the spit in your mouth and try to keep a straight face. You didn’t think he was going to take this sort of direction at all when he first started talking.

You cough once, willing away the blossoming blush on your cheeks. “I like you too but I’m worried that plant might have done more damage than what meets the eye.”

Twilight moves his hands from yours, wrapping both of his arms around you instead. You’re able to keep walking forward thankfully but it certainly makes it a bit harder to keep moving. 

“Don’t leave me, ok?” He says in a small, quiet voice. “I’d miss you terribly, Darlin’.”

“I can’t make that promise.” You whisper back. “But I don’t plan on leaving any time soon, ok?”

He hums and pulls you closer to him, stopping you both at last from making any progress back to the group. You can feel his muscles from beneath his tunic and his toned arms as they encase you, effectively trapping you where you stand.

You whine, worried more so now for your pride on the off chance that someone else finds you in this position. You can’t do much to move otherwise. You bring your hands up and wrap them around one of his arms. You can feel him smile by the shell of your ear.

“I’m very happy I met you.” He says and it tickles you. “I want to talk to you more.”

“You’re always free to talk to me, Link.” You take a chance and say his name. “You know that.”

He hums and leaves a butterflies touch on your temple. You think he kissed you. But it was so light that it could have been anything else. Maybe you’re just too much of a lost cause and read things deeper than they really are.

“You are very nice... and strong... and pretty.” Twilight says slowly swaying back and forth.

“Ho-kay!” You reach for him again and grab him by the collar. “We need the others. Pronto.”

Twilight growls in a very canine like fashion that it freezes you in your spot. “....I don’t want to.”

You look to him and the way you were going. “But we can go get..... food?”

Twilight pauses. He thinks about it. He’s still swaying. “...Food is good.”

“Food is good.” You agree and turn back to pulling him along. “But the food is that way.”

Twilight huffs and drops his head to your shoulder. “..’m tired.”

“Don’t sleep yet.” You pray to whoever will listen to you that you make it back safe and relatively still sane.

“ ‘m kay.”

Note to self. Stay away from the flower.

Warrior

Warrior can feel his easy smile sprout on his face. “Just fine, Sweetheart.”

You stop and look around him, noticing the pollen on his scarf and boots. You wince. “Oh that can’t be good.”

Warrior coughs a bit and sways on his feet. He looks at you dreamily and smiles a bit wider. “Are you ok?”

You hiss. “Just fine. Peachy keen, even.”

You rush to put your hands on Warrior’s shoulders to steady him. You hesitate when you come into close contact with the pollen because you don’t know what the full extant of the effects are but you don’t like how drunk Warrior seems to be right now. 

“Good. Good.” Warrior nods, nearly throwing himself off of his feet again. He takes a deep breath and lets it go. “You’re really pretty.”

“Oh my go- thank you, Captain.” You bite your lip and throw caution to the wind. You sling his arm around your shoulders and begin to walk him back to the others. 

Warrior leans into you and he’s heavier than you thought he would be. “But really pretty. And so smart. Smarter than me.”

“That’s easy.” You grin and shake your head, trying to keep the man on his feet. “I don’t exactly have a lot of competition in terms of common sense.”

Warrior giggles and it concerns you. He’s never this care free or jovial. What on earth did that plant do to him? And what would it take to get him this silly without intervention? 

“You’re also reeeaaally strong.” Warrior sighs. “And one hell of a fighter.”

You laugh. “You bet I am! you have to help me out here though. I can’t carry all of you.”

“Sorry.” Warrior pushes himself only slightly. It helps a bit but you can see that he’s struggling to keep more of his balance the more time passes. Worst case scenario, you’ll have to leave him behind and go get one of the others. They’re not that far, right?

“Can I hug you?” Warrior says quietly. “I want to hug you.”

“You can get a hug after we meet up with the others ok?” You try to reason with him. You’re ignoring the idea that you’re technically already hugging but something tells you that it’s not what he means and frankly, you think you’re ok with that.

“I want.... to play with your hair.” Warrior says in the same quiet tone. It sounds like you’re losing him. He cannot fall asleep on you and it going to be the end of everything as it is. Where is camp again?

“You can.” You sigh. “Just ask. And don’t pull. Or hair playing privileges will be revoked, do you understand me?”

Warrior grins and you can feel it brush the shell of your ear. Hold on, when did he get that close? “Oh yay! It always looks so soft. I wanted to play with it by the fire, remember?”

You do not remember. But you don’t think pointed that out would help anything.

Warrior keeps talking. “You were so tired and hurt and I was hurting but you fell asleep on top of me and you were warm and soft. And your hair was soft but I didn’t want to be weird. Especially since you were asleep. You looked very pretty by firelight and I couldn’t sleep, only think. And I think...”

He nods off for a moment before you shake him back awake. “Easy. Easy. We’re almost there. What else? Tell me.”

Warrior jolts awake for a moment and shakes his head. He goes back to his somehow coherent rambles. “I wanted to kiss your forehead because it felt nice and you were nice and you save people and no one thanked you yet but you were sleeping and bleeding. It was very quiet and nice and I want to hold you again.”

“Maybe one day.” You look away, feeling yourself blush. You thank the heavens that you can hear Wind in the distance. You’re close.

Warrior kisses your cheek. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

“You’re wElcOme.” You cough and look away, holding him a little tighter as you cross into the perimeter of the camp.

Warrior promptly falls over the minute you spot the group.

Legend

Legend can feel himself start giggling uncontrollably. “Hi! Hello! Hi!”

You wince and point a finger his way. “Ohhhh... Nope. Don’t like that. Who are you and what have you done with Legend?”

Legend shrugs and tilts his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” More giggling. “I’m right here!”

You step closer cautiously. You poke his shoulder and he sways with the momentum. You go to poke his cheek but he snaps his head to try and bite your finger.

You yell, snatching your hand back as quick as you can and Legend only seems to grow more amused by the second. “Almost got you!~”

You nervously smile back. “So.... what made you like this?”

Legend points to the exploded flower. “It blew up in my face. If you get to close it makes you feel funny.”

You nod back and slowly step away from the offending plant. “Got it. No going near the purple flower. Understood.”

Legend laughs a bit more. “You’re funny.”

You frown. “And you need to be checked.”

Legend blows a raspberry and waves you off, going to take a step forward. “I don’t need to be looked at. I’m perfectly fin-”

He can’t carry his weight and falls face first into the dirt.

You snort and go to cover your smile before you move to help him back up. “Ok. I’ll help, idiot. Let’s go get to Rulie and see if he can magic this away. If not, then maybe Wild can make something crazy and we’ll flood this plant stuff out of you. How’s that sound?”

“Fun!”

“I bet it will be!” You lie.

“Can I kiss you?” Legend points, or rather pokes, his own cheek. “Please? I’ve been want to for a while.”

“Uhhhhh...” You keep walking. “Maybe later. What else have you been wanting to do for a while?”

“I want... to braid your hair. With flowers. Make it real pretty.”

“I don’t think that would work while we’re traveling.” You admit, letting the blush seep onto your features. “But I’d like that.”

“And I waaannnttt....to make you smile.. and laugh.... and happy... for a looong time.” Legend admits, letting his head sag and hit your shoulder. “I like the sound of that.”

You cough, the will power to fight your blush completely gone. “Really? That’s really sweet of you Legend.”

Legend nods along, not reacting as if you’ve just spoken. “I want to also make sure you’re safe... and it’s hard to do that when you go and get lost and then we don’t where you are and then I get worried.”

You gulp, trying to keep your spirits light and unaffected. It’s not working. “Oh.. I’m sorry. I’ll try and be better.”

“The Captain makes fun of me for it.” Legend continues. “But it’s ok. Twilight gets to smack him on the head and it’s funny.”

You snort. “Tell me next time he makes fun of you and I’ll smack him too.”

“Good. He deserves it... In a good way.”

“I bet he does.” 

Sky

“Oh.” Sky bursts into giggles and sway unsteadily on his feet. “Hello.”

“Uh-oh.” You run forward and put your hands on his shoulders, trying to keep him steady. “Sky. Buddy. Are you ok? What happened?”

Sky shrugs nonchalantly.

You deflate momentarily and whine in the back of your throat. “Not helpful.”

“Has anyone said you look pretty today?” Sky blurts, looking through you.

You blow a raspberry and shake your head. You have to get him help. He’s probably going to be saying a lot of crazy things in the meantime. “No. Link.”

“Well you look very pretty today.”

“Thank you Link.” You sigh, trying to keep your smile small. You don’t need to encourage this. But it’s Sky. Whatever would be mean by it.

“You looked pretty yesterday too.”

“Did I?”

“Mhm.” Sky nods, nearly sending himself face first into the dirt. You doubt he even notices that you’re helping him walk for the most part. “And the day before and the day before that and the day before that and the-”

“I think the point Chosen One.” You snort. “You’re very pretty too.”

Sky gasps and shoots up, tripping you both up and falling to the ground. He seems unbothered once more. “Do you mean it?”

“Oh my goodness.” You sigh and brush yourself off. You give Sky an unimpressed look and force yourself to stand up again. “Come on, Buddy. You need to help me out here. I can’t carry you like Twilight can.”

“You didn’t say it.” Sky pouts.

“Say what?”

“I asked you a question!”

“By the three-” You cut yourself off and reach out to try and help Sky up anyway. “You’re very pretty. Everyday. All the time. I promise I mean that. Now get up. Please.”

Sky moves to get up. He’s still swaying as if he was on a boat and hadn’t gotten his land legs yet and yet his carefree, blinding smile let’s you know he doesn’t notice it. “You mean it! Oh that makes me happy! Everyone says that The Captain is the prettiest but I always thought that you were better looking than him since the very beginning.”

That gets you to laugh. “What are you talking about?”

“And if you think I’m pretty too, then there has to be some truth to it.” Sky nods as if he’s solved the world biggest puzzle. “Then what about back home? Do they think you’re pretty too?”

“Uhhh..” You look up to think about it. “I doubt it. Maybe someone but it’s not like I’m going around and asking what they think about me, you know? That’s a terrifying thought.”

“Whhhaaattt??” Sky drags the word out and lumps his head onto your shoulder. “That can’t be true. You’re beautiful. Inside and out. I should know. I’m a good judge of character. You’re the best of us.”

You snort. “Yesterday I set the Vet’s toast on fire because he was making fun of Wild’s climbing outfit.”

“And he deserved it.” Sky says seriously.

You choke on your spit and try to breathe through your nose. “I can’t talk to you like this. There’s no way you would have told me this yesterday.”

“It was very funny.”

“Sky no.” You grin, only scandalized in voice. “You’re the good child. You can’t do this to Old Man Father Time.”

“He is very old.” Sky nods again.

“Sky please.”

“He might be a father soon too.”

“Sky!”

“..”

“..”

“I’m sleepy.”

“Don’t you dare...Sky, I mean it. I can’t haul you back to camp by myself. Don’t do it.”

“...”

 “Don’t.”

“..”

“..DON’T YOU......dare...”

[kaythefloppa]

Wild Kratts - Our Blue and Green World: Part 1: Review [Spoilers]

Welp, here it is, the Wild Kratts TV movie (not to be confused with the feature film they've been teasing us with since 2021). There's been a lot of hype around this special and season, especially with how much the latter was being hyped up during the hiatus. Let's see if the blue and green bros were able to deliver: Spoilers under the cut

Well, this is certainly an attention grabber!

This entire live action intro is shot and edited like an animated Wild Kratts episode, it's glorious.

Woah, intro change!

They said the thing! They said the thing!

HELP THIS IS SO RELATABLE. Also, THE BOYS ARE FIGHTING

Lmao I don't think they do it very often, but using animals/nature in their insults is very creative.

Also, whooping crane episode when?

This entire song is mercifully short. Like most character sung songs in Wild Kratts, it's not good, but this at least is clever in its lyrics and its visuals. It feels like a Disney reference at best and I am content with that. I also ADORED seeing the Draco and Walrus Suit return again. It's arguably the best musical number in the series. No, that is not saying a lot.

MARTIN WHY ARE YOU THE ONE WHO'S MIFFED YOU NEARLY MUFASA'D YOUR LITTLE BROTHER

CHRIS WHY ARE YOU MILDLY INCONVENIENCED YOU GOT ACRAPHOBIA FALLING FROM THAT HEIGHT

When I first saw the clip, I thought that they were going somewhere with this, like they'd activate Peacock Powers at the end when they recognized the compatibility and blue and green. But nope. Wasted potential is an understatement.

Also, where the fuck are they right now? In a previous shot there was Target the Chameleon, implying that they've been to Madagascar, but that is an Indian peafowl, and as far as I'm concerned, they don't live in Madagascar. Were they just having an off-day? These animals have little to nothing to do with the plot when they really shouldn't have, so I don't see why they couldn't have just shown a projector image or something.

Remember when I joked about the Wild Pony Power Suit returning in S7.... fuck you Apollo.

Man, they are eating it up with the animation here. It's hard to tell with screengrabs but man, is it fluid.

The first half of this episode is mixed. While it feels like the brothers are incredibly stubborn, it also does make sense for them to be this fixated on their favorites. So I can totally buy this. It could've been insufferable to watch, but it wasn't.

As if YOU haven't spied on them since the first time your dorito-headed ass showed up on screen

Did you find that funny? Because not only do they do a similar joke like that later on, but they follow through on that joke in the most unexpected way you will shit your pants when you first ingest it.

Oh my god if they make a Creature Power Suit off of that bird, I will take back any diss I've made, that is so beautiful.

Good to know that Aviva put the button near the chest and not near the back.

Maybe it's just me but this is kinda pushing it. Chris is literally getting his organs crushed, I think that should matter more than A) being right or B) trying to get 2 people to stop fighting.

I'm loving the callback and what this leads up to but ew, all this does is remind me about how ugly bright the color pallatte in S6. Really glad they fixed it in S7.

HELL FUCKING YES

This episode finds really unique ways of showing how the two different biomes are interconnected. It's like Rainforest Stew's (very brilliantly handled) message only to a larger degree. Kids can learn a lot from this.

I fucking love this episode, man.

Honestly, the way they write Paisley in the first half of the episode is very in-line with her character. Most shows that do what this episode does has them be out-of-character as a set-up, but here, she's just roasting the fuck out of Zach. Once again, recontextualized entirely in the climax.

HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET TO MADAGASCAR FROM THE GODDAMN AMAZON IN ONE AFTERNOON THAT IS LIKE MORE THAN 1,000 MILES AWAY?? ARE ANACONDAS THAT FAST?????

Also, INDRIS!!!!! :D

I was frankly expecting this to horribly backfire but spoilers, it doesn't. This actually winds up working. Common Aviva W.

To be continued.... will the blue and green rivalry end? Will one prove superior over another? And will they be able to stop Zach and Paisley and save the planet earth? And will this change the adventures of the Wild Kratts team forever? Stay tuned for part 2!

Pros:

The live action segments.

The animation of the earth's model.

The musical number not being ass.

Paisely's catty behavior.

The Anaconda Suit.

The inventive ways they show how the stability of the Earth is complex. There are a lot of ways it functions and thus a lot of ways it needs to survive

The comedy.

Cons:

The villains do not do anything until the second half of this episode. In fact, they're left completely in the backdrop. I expected them to make their prescence known and for Aviva to invent the discs to get them together for the SAKE of fighting the villains. But no. It makes the stakes feel hollow, which is the opposite of what they should be gunning for in an hour long special that they hype the shit out of.

CONCLUSION:

It was an "okay" set-up. It did live up to some of the hype it had, but not all of it. Honestly if it wasn't for the second half of this episode, this movie would be mediocre or slightly above average, but no. They do pick themselves off the ground and... they do jump the shark. But we'll get to that next time

[frogchiro]

I NEED MORE STRAY CHILDE AND CAT READER

YOU ASK AND I SHALL DELIVER (also i'm turning this into a possible lil threesome bc i need and i have 0 selfcontrol ;;)

fem!reader, hybrids, suggestive content, love triangle, age gap but reader is explicitly stated to be an adult, implied chubby reader, jealousy and feels, a tiny bit of angst?? but it's woven in between fluff so it's okay </3 also my terrible grammar

okay soooo...i was thinking about a kinda 'lady and the tramp' scenario but with a little twist? where you, the prized kitty girl, belong to an incredibly wealthy snezhnayan noblewoman. she is already on the older side, she never married or had kids and while living a lavish life full of extravagant banquets, travels across teyvat, meeting the most interesting people, sometimes it does get lonely in a big mansion you know? sure there are the servants and many other people who'd be more than willing to converse with her but a jumpy mousy handmaiden or some boring sycophantic dignitary or two can only do so much to be considered 'good' company.

after much thinking and careful consideration, the woman decided on buying a cat hybrid. the hybrid breeding business was booming all over teyvat, it basically became a staple for the wealthy to buy hybrids, dress them up like the most beautiful porcelain dolls and flaunting them on various official occasions like banquets or balls.

there was a large variety of well bred hybrids, all from most perfect and long lineages that would put the family histories of most noble houses to shame. from bunnies through sables, foxes, peacocks up to horse hybrids but it still wasn't perfect, all of them were boring; well, until she met you. a catgirl with fluffy shiny (h/c) fur combed and groomed to perfection, pointy ears standing high and proud and a lovely fluffy tail swishing as if annoyed by the disturbance behind you. from the second she saw you, she knew that you were the one that would keep her company. you were a cute young thing, just over 16 years old and the perfect combination of politeness, shyness and sassyness, not overly clingy and desperate to be bought but also not rude or hissy. yes, you'd be perfect.

and so began your new life with your new owner in a completely new environment. sure, you'd miss the facility where you grew up in but you were also excited what your future would hold for you and judging by the lady who bought you, you'd never have to worry about anything anymore.

a few years passed in bliss. you were now just over 20 and you really grew into your new life. ever since the nice lady brought you into your new home or rather a small palace, you lived a life of luxury as the favorite (and only!) pet of her ladyship. you had your own room, own bed stuffed to the brim with pillows and topped off with a silky see-through canopy, all designed in a lovely and tasteful (f/c) palette. you even had a personal chef and groomer! after all the favorite kitty of the household had to eat the best food and have her fur shiny and not a single tangle in sight; yes, life was calm and perfect for you.

well...at least until someone barged in at full speed. it was a ginger stray cat hybrid who called himself childe, ajax for friends which he insisted on becoming with you. stray hybrids weren't a rare sight to be honest, especially in a big metropolis like the capital city of snezhnaya, but they usually kept to the more shady parts of the town, scavenging the dark alleys and slums for scraps so it was quite a fright when suddenly a big, rough looking stray jumped over the fence and right next to the spot where you were sunning!

after hissing and yowling up a storm you realized that childe had no real ill intentions but you were still miffed about the situation, why was he here? how the hell did he even get here?

after a sheepish explanation from the scarred hybrid that he was just scavenging the area for food and he got wind of a new smell he just couldn't resist and had to check out the source! he really didn't expect for you to be the source and before he could retreat he slipped and fell into your garden and here he was...ta-daaa!

you didn't really buy it, the ginger cat literally spelled trouble by just looking at him but you kinda felt a little pity on him; he was a stray for gods know how long and while he was well build and very big, judging by the growl in his belly he didn't eat for a very long time.

just because you were a 'high-born' and belonging into a aristocratic family didn't mean you were cruel or heartless so you told the man to wait here for you as you sneaked into the kitchens and loaded a cloth full of different kinds of meats, cheeses and fruit and brought them back to him to eat. your heart squeezed painfully at the wide eyes of the stray as you gave him the wrapped cloth and wished him well, telling him not the eat trash anymore and if he were hungry then to just come here and you'll give him food.

and so started the quite unlikely friendship between you and the big stray, ajax, and you had to admit that the once seemingly meek and sheepish cat was actually the biggest troublemaker you ever saw! as your friendship progressed his true colors shone through and gave him an entirely new but lovable personality. ajax was funny, smart, cunning and a major flirt, often teasing you and making moves on you, then laughing boisterously when you flushed and hissed at him with your ears pulled flat against your head.

he even showed you his den! after weeks of convincing you to give into his pleas of sneaking out for the night because 'he wanted to show you something' you finally gave into his pleads and went with him, anxious to be away from your safe mansion but also excited for the new possible adventure.

what ajax hyped up to be his 'incredibly cool and super comfy den' was actually an old abandoned barn on the outskirts of the town. you weren't really impressed and by the look of your sour expression childe sweated a little but pulled you after him while promising that it looks much better on the inside...it really didn't but at least the attic of the barn was kept well enough and judging by the neat circle of old blankets, furs and pillows this was where the hybrid made his den and to be honest....it really was comfy.

you began to sneak out almost every night to meet childe at his barn, at least it gave you the privacy and you didn't have to worry about any patrolling guards or stray servants busting your secret friend.

soon the old barn became your second home and the circle of old raggedy blankets and pillows your new bed. it was quite liberating in some way to roll around in the nest with ajax, the catboy nothing but accommodating and happy to have you here with him. he loved to see you smile and purr up a storm when your were rolling around and nuzzling the blankets simultaneously leaving your delicious scent all over his place which often led to...some unsavory activities after you left.

but could you really blame him?! how can he not rub his cock and cum all over himself when he has the image of your perfect soft body burned into his brain and various sinful thoughts are occupying his mind the second he gets a whiff of your scent.

it will always be a secret but his favorite fantasy is of you abandoning your life at the mansion and have you run away with him. the thought of having you here with him at all times, hunting and providing for you, returning after each successful hunt to you as you smile and lick his cheek, the tiny mewls of your kitties the only noise in the otherwise silent barn besides the cracking fire in the rundown hearth and your loud purrs.

but this is all it will ever be, a fantasy. he couldn't possibly ever ask you of such a thing, such a sacrifice to satisfy his selfish desires especially after all the things you did for him. he knew painfully well that you are way out of his league, basically a princess to his tramp self; but that didn't mean he still couldn't cherish you and every moment he shared with you! yes, he was content with what he had. everything was perfect....until it wasn't.

while your lady didn't exactly know the details of where her prized catgirl went off to, she had the vague idea that you were...disappearing for the nights and coming back ruffled and dirty like some common stray and it got her thinking...what if you were lonely? what if you were just seeking out the presence of another hybrid? it wouldn't surprise her really, after all she was the one to buy you in the first place to quell her own loneliness so how could she be so selfish and possibly neglect the feelings of her favorite girl! and she knew just the perfect resolution for the issue...

imagine your surprise when one beautiful winter morning when you came down into the salon stretching and yawning to check out the noises that seemed to go on since the early hours only to notice your lady sitting on the recliner with a...hybrid standing right next to her.

you wouldn't lie when you said that you almost turned on your heel and made a beeline back to your room and hide under the various blankets of your nest. this hybrid...this...monster wasn't something you ever saw, even in childe.

the cat hybrid appeared to be older, much older than you with long flowing and well kept white hair topped with two pointy white ears and a neat beard. the man was tall, so very tall, and broad; his thick chest and arms partially covered by the fur coat he was wearing, but the most prominent feature of his were his piercing gray eyes. the slitted pupils looking almost like tiny diamonds inside his eyes when his stone cold gaze zeroed on your figure and you suddenly felt so tiny and exposed in your nightgown and see-through robe; your tail swishing anxiously behind you as the man glowered down on you.

finally after what felt like an eternity, your lady noticed you and beamed, jumping up from her seat and inviting you over to introduce the mysterious man.

his name was apparently pierro and he was the new cat hybrid your lady bought in order for you to no longer be lonely, plus judging by his sheer size he could also be your protector.

while your lady was happily rambling and telling you all about the process and all the benefits of pierro being here all you could do was stay quiet, ears pinned flat to your head as you and the big man had a staredown with you quickly loosing. you just didn't understand it! it was all a big misunderstanding! you weren't 'lonely' at all but on the other hand you guessed you got a little careless and sloppy about sneaking out to meet with childe. getting a bit too comfortable was a big mistake and you could understand it coming off as 'feeling lonely' to your lady, she probably was thinking that you were sneaking out to search for other cat people and now you were stuck with the older hybrid. maybe it wouldn't be so bad? after all, pierro looks like he's an older hybrid even for your extended lifespans, plus he doesn't really look like the type to chase you around and play or bother you, if anything he was looking at you like you're the one to bother him in your own damn house! ultimately there was nothing you could do anymore, pierro was here already and it looked like he was staying so you guessed you just had to suck it up for a bit and hold off on meeting with childe for the time being.

and so pierro stayed in the mansion for good. a few weeks passed already and honestly? it was better than you expected! just like you previously presumed pierro didn't bother you or even try to interact with you, most times keeping just to himself doing gods know what and yet you felt his constant presence, like a phantom lingering around you and keeping a keen eye on you.

even with this strange feeling you came around, breaking the invisible wall and actually trying to get pierro to at least like you a little bit which, to your great surprise, wasn't difficult at all.

the big cat hybrid was actually very pleasant to be around; he was mostly either reading something or lounging around on a recliner or next to one of the enormous fireplaces in the mansion and it provided a perfect opportunity to get to know each other. he had a very deep, rough and rumbling voice that send pleasant shivers down your spine any time you heard it, plus he seemed to naturally run hot so lounging next to him in front of the fire during a cold winter night proved to be a wonderful experience, his deep rumbling purrs vibrating and lulling you to sleep.

he even started to slowly allow himself to become more 'touchy' with you! at first it were just short and stiff nuzzles, just to acknowledge your existence, then it slowly evolved into more lingering touches, insistently rubbing his head against yours, grooming your fur with his tongue, wrapping his tail around yours and even full on spooning you when lounging on a fur rug. the ultimate sign of trust was when one night pierro invited you to his chamber to climb into his nest to cuddle and bond and you won't lie when you say you felt a hot tingle in your lower belly when you climbed into the enormous wonderfully soft nest that was drenched in his scent and you felt the man slowly rub his cheek upwards from the base of your tail to your shoulders and bit down softly, his huge fangs oh so gently clamping down on the back of your neck as he slowly pulled your back snugly to his broad hairy chest and laid down with you, his teeth still holding you.

the gesture was an incredibly intimate one, reserved only for mates but it made you feel all giddy and tingly inside, quiet purrs from deep within your chest mixing with pierro's rumbles and combined with the cracking fire from the heart it made for a wonderfully cozy and intimate soundscape.

you let pierro take care of you, his teeth finally letting loose of your neck to gently lick it with his rough tongue and growling lowly when he felt your hips shift under his, pulling you even closer and crushing you against his chest. his darling little kitten seemed to finally be relaxed in his presence, something he longed for from the very beginning when his new owner introduced you to each other. you finally stopped to sneak out so much the more open you became with each other and you no longer smelt like that wretched stray, childe.

pierro growled under his breath at even the thought of that tramp getting close to you and thinking he'd have any chance with you while you had him. instead he continued to lick you, down from your neck and towards your delicious full breasts feeling particulary naughty and sneaking a quick suck or two to your nipples, an answering delighted mewl from you all he needed to know.

now that the stray was out of the picture he had you all to himself and soon he'd mate you. while her ladyship was sometimes annoying him he had to begrudgingly thank her for bringing you two together although perhaps not in the way she thought. maybe you will present her with a nice healthy litter of well bred kittens next year with him as the proud father? who knows; for now though he had a needy kitty to take care of and the night was just starting~

unbeknownst to either of you, a pair of deep blue eyes was glaring at you from the balcony of the room. childe was furious, basically fuming from the inside but not at you, no, never at you, but at pierro for even thinking of trying to take you from him and at himself for allowing this to happen.

a few weeks back when pierro was just brought into the mansion you did warn childe that you'll be unable to sneak out as often as previously due to your lady bringing another hybrid into the household and to avoid suspicion you had to drastically cut down on your time together. at first he thought it wouldn't really bother him, he was a stray and used to being alone, but after so many weeks of having you so close, keeping him company and just simply being there for him made him feel dangerously attached to you and the knowledge that you had to stay away from him for an indefinite amount of time made him feel miserable and to add salt to the wound you now shared a space with another hybrid, pierro, out of everyone.

he vaguely knew the hybrid before; tall and broad in statue, stone cold exterior, a permanent scowl on his face that never seemed to wither. according to rumors the old hybrid had a lineage that reached as far as back to the ancient khaen'rhian people, due to that (and from what childe was aware) pierro couldn't be technically owned by someone, he was always just...there. so it had him baffled when he saw the man strolling through the gardens, his piercing diamond pupils turning into slits when they zeroed on him and made a face that could be only described as 'disgusted pity'. childe then pulled his ears back, the fur on his back standing on ends and was ready to pounce on him but retreated last second when he saw your soft body coming up from behind pierro and rubbing affectionately up against him. the ginger hybrid would lie when he said that his jaw almost hit the floor when he witnessed the scene and his blood boiled at the disgustingly smug look on pierro's face when he wrapped his long fluffy tail around you and returned your gesture before turning you around and walking away from him place of hiding like he was some afterthought you shouldn't be bothered with.

seeing you with the big hybrid, pierro, was like putting salt in the wound that he created for himself. why couldn't he confessed to you earlier? was he really such a coward that he couldn't even express his love for the girl of his dreams? and now he had to watch you being all lovely and cozy with the big male while he was left standing high and dry, plus he just knew that the white haired hybrid would rub his triumph all over his face the next chance he got.

'but just you wait', childe thought with a bitter scowl. it was just the beginning as sooner the abyss would freeze over than childe would admit defeat. you'd become his mate and he'd win your heart.

just you wait

[home2venus]

SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE

── ˖✮⋆˙꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ jungkook x han so-hee ˒˓ seven music video universe  summary. a missing scene from the seven music video, from the perspective of freshly heartbroken jungkook genre/tags. pining, post-break up, (not so) unrequited love, incredibly whipped jungkook ─ this is jungkook's perspective of my other seven fic! read them here ⋆｡°༄˖°.🪐

Jeon Jungkook may have fucked up.

He’s not afraid to admit that, and neither is anyone else. Latto had cackled when he told her what happened, all broken up about being broken up with. She’s usually pretty cool about things, on his side, but she’s real with him too. The guys were kinder about it, but the general consensus was that Jungkook has maybe, definitely, fucked up.

So, it’s a messy situation, but it’s not impossible to fix. Jungkook’s a crafty guy, and he’s dedicated to everything he puts his mind to, so he’s sure that if he really tries, and really works hard he can fix this. He wants to fix it, desperately, because... well, because of everything. She’s everything.

She was everything. 

He needs to fix it. He needs to fix them. He can fix it, he knows he—

“Should leave her alone, right?”

“What?” Jungkook asks, snapping out of his thoughts. He’s sitting at a barstool, head in his hands with his elbows resting on the counter. He looks over to Latto, supremely unimpressed.

“She doesn’t want you, baby,” Latto shrugs, leaning next to him, eyes scanning the dancefloor absently as though she’s not actively ruining Jungkook’s life, “Give her some space, at least, before you rocket back into shit.”

“I need her to know—”

“You need to not push her into filing a restraining order,” Latto insists, rolling her eyes fondly. Jungkook pouts slightly, and she pats him on the shoulder, already walking away from him. He watches her leave, a little miffed and a little resigned because Latto is probably, definitely right, but he doesn’t want her to be.

“Then what should I do?” He yells at an already halfway gone Latto.

“Go home?” Latto yells back, “Go to therapy?” She disappears into the crowd, but he can hear her laughing to herself. 

So, Jungkook goes home. On the same train that he always does. At the same time as he always does. Jungkook, from the future, would like to claim that these factors make what happened next 100%, completely, absolutely, not his fault.

Jungkook steps on the train, emptier than usual but still bustling with people, and grabs the first empty seat he can find, sighing with relief as he just narrowly avoids standing in the shadow of a fairly gross looking businessman. He readjusts, stretching slightly as the train begins to move, and as he settles in his seat, he looks around the train and—

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Han So-hee is still as beautiful as the day they met, and still as devastating as the day she left.

“Um,” Jungkook says, and she rolls her eyes, beginning to stand.

“Excuse me,” So-hee starts to stand, looking to the people around her, “Do you want my s—”

The train shakes abrubtly, slamming her back into her seat, and she sighs, resigned and exhausted. She settles back into her seat, putting her earbuds back in with a pointed glare at him.

“Don’t say anything,” She bites out the words, like they’re painful, and they are painful, but more for Jungkook than her. Jungkook just nods, quiet and understanding. So-hee blinks, a little taken aback, but then she just rolls her eyes and returns back to her phone. Jungkook returns back to his too, but it’s absent, like he’s not fully there because he isn’t.

A different Jungkook wouldn’t have listened. He would’ve kept talking, pestered her into laughing and letting him back into her home, like he always did after arguments. But, current Jungkook knows he can’t do that anymore, that he did it one too many times, during an argument that was a little too serious, and now he can’t go back to her home, to what he always considered home, because he pushed her too far.

She gets off before him, because she always does. He can see the exact route she’ll take home in his head, memorized from nights where they stumbled back home together, drunk and giggly.

“I love you,” Jungkook says. He’s not sure if she hears him, but it doesn’t matter. He just needs to say it.

Through the departing train’s window, he watches her glance backward at him, before disappearing off the platform as a whole, into the streets of the city where she lives without him. 

Jungkook goes back to his apartment, and he realizes that he can’t live without her. Jungkook also realizes that she can live without him, that she doesn’t need him in the same way, and he wants to let her have that. He wants to try again, but he doesn’t want her to hate him.

So, Jungkook resolves to let her leave. 

Unfortunately, nothing is ever that easy. But, Jungkook would like to say that it’s not his fault.

Jungkook takes the same train he did when he was with her, because that’s the train he’s always taken, so he sees her constantly. Okay, whatever, that’s fine.

But, Jungkook goes to the same restaurants that he used to go to in university, back when him and So-hee would spend weekends and nights finding new, exciting places to eat, because he always goes to the restaurants. So-hee goes to them too, because she found them with him and has all the rights too, so he sees her at the restaurants and it’s hard to explain to every old woman behind the counter that no, they aren’t together anymore and haha, yeah, it’s all good, he just misses her more than he thinks he would miss his own lungs in his chest. So, he just... doesn’t tell them, and neither does she, and everyone still thinks they’re in love, so sometimes they sit across from each other in a restaurant booth to avoid any questions.

For practicality’s sake. 

Um. Anyways.

He sees her at the laundromat, and at this point, he misses her like the Earth would miss the Sun if it imploded in the sky. She’s in an old blue denim jacket from years ago, with her hair loose around her shoulders and messy as she slams around a laundry basket, clearly sick of him. He can’t help himself from looking though, swinging his legs atop his own washing machine, watching her load her clothes into the machine. His eyes catch on a faded sweatshirt he used to have years ago, his university logo faded and worn on the front of it, and he immediately averts his eyes. If she knows that he knows, she’ll give it back, because she’ll be embarrassed. The sweatshirt is proof he’s still something to her, he’s still useful, so if she gives it back, it’s one less sign that she doesn’t actually loathe him. He wants her to keep it, so he doesn’t say anything, not until the room starts to flood and they’re pushing at the ceiling.

I love you, he almost says when they make it out, and she starts on her way home, still soaked and angry. 

I love you, he almost says when he texts her about the police assuming her laundry was his, because his wallet had still been in her laundry basket. 

I love you, he almost says when she opens the door and lets him, and the laundry but mostly him, into her apartment and offers him coffee on instinct. 

Her cats brush at his hands and he coos at them like everything is normal, and she asks him about Jimin and work and if he could talk to the others about bringing her neice into the studio, and when he agrees, she says that she literally loves him, and Jungkook shatters.

“I love you,” Jungkook says, and So-hee doesn’t say it back, but she smiles a little bit, and lets him leave on his own, without slamming the door behind him. 

Things aren’t perfect, she doesn’t run back to him with open arms and beg to be married, but when he enters the place they used to study late into the night, begging the shop owner for just one more ramen bowl and a few more minutes, she takes her bag off the opposite seat, and doesn’t glare at him when he accidentally mumbles to himself too loud while working.

It’s not perfect, but it’s close, and missing her when she’s close is better than missing her when she’s far. At least she’s still in reach, and at least she still lets him look at her.

“I love you,” He says, without even thinking about it, and she doesn’t even look up.

“Yeah, yeah,” She says, the first aknowledgement since she broke up with him months ago, “Have you considered putting that energy into a job?”

“You’re better than a job,” Jungkook says, teasing but light, like she’ll shutter away if it’s not just a graze of a joke. She gives him a look, and he thinks shit, because oh no, oh god, he’s fucked it all up again and he—

“I’m better than everything,” She says back, a small smile playing on her face, a clear indication of her joke, “Get a better excuse.”

Jungkook misses her more than anything. Her eyes, and her hair, and her hands, and her cats, and her food, and her brain, but more than anything, he misses the way she makes him laugh out of nowhere.

He laughs, because of course he does, loud and disruptive, and it turns into choking giggles when the old ladies nearby shush him loudly. His eyes are shut, blinking rapidly to get away his tears, even though it really wasn’t that funny. It’s a mix of shock, and delight, and nostalgia making him inconsolably laugh, but his distraction stops him from noticing the way she grins fondly.It’s not an I love you, but it’s close, and he missed it. He missed everything about her. All he wants to do is get it back, and actually see it, see her, again.

[frostgears]

art project

"Oh, that? Art project I've been messing with."

The glass vat takes up most of her kitchen table, filled with uniform muddy brown fluid that reeks of organic solvents, something like nail polish.

"Um… what kind of art?"

"It's kind of a work in progress, okay?"

She says it's easier if she shows you. The vat is wrapped with a half-dozen turns of copper wire; she screws the bare ends into terminal blocks on a messy proto board, plugs cables from that into an antique PC, types a command on a grubby keyboard.

The muddy brown fluid vibrates. Waves cross its surface, forming interference peaks and troughs. Simple patterns grow more and more complex, and then the stuff climbs out of the vat entirely.

Cubes and pentaprisms and planar hexagons hang in the air above churning liquid. You move your head and some of it, seen edge on, disappears. You move back; there it is again. The chemical miasma of nail polish intensifies, and something else.

"That's… how? I've never seen anything like it. Some kind of ferrofluid?" you ask.

"Uh, sure, something like that."

She kills the program. Her hand creeps onto yours, squeezing it gently but firmly. She says, "Shall we go upstairs?"

—

It's been three weeks. The sex has been incredible, the two of you practically joined at the genitals whenever you're together.

You tell her, incredibly full, that if she ever manages to get more of that strap inside you, you'll probably pass out. The next day, she shows up hefting a bigger one, and proves you right.

You're spending more and more time at her place. It's fine. It's really fine. You have roommates, she doesn't. But you'd like to use her kitchen, surprise her with something that isn't cheap takeout, and you can't, because that vat is in the way.

You ask her if she can move it? She can't. She shrugs. "I don't really cook much, so…"

"I do."

"Yeah… I need the table, though."

You're miffed, but she makes it up to you, by going slow enough that night that you don't immediately pass out. That leaves plenty of time for screaming.

You sleep over. You wake up in the middle of the night to piss, and find her gone. From the bathroom, you see the flicker of LEDs in the kitchen down the hall, smell acetone and… something else. Dusty rooms in empty houses?

You leave her alone. You're too tired; you don't want to fuck this up; you don't know what you'd say anyway. You go back to sleep.

—

It's been two months. You can't get enough of each other. You've gotten used to takeout, and her pelvis-endangering sexual appetites haven't let up; if anyone you knew saw you bent into the positions she likes to dick you down you in, they'd be shocked at your flexibility.

Most of your stuff is at her place now. (Just not the kitchen utensils.) It's easier that way. Less back and forth, and you're here basically every night anyway, have been for weeks. You want to ask her about moving in.

She can be… grumpy, sometimes. You can put up with it, moving around her moods like water. God knows you've had enough practice in your life. She's in a mood tonight, but you have to ask soon, because your lease is up in a month.

You've stacked the deck as much as you can. Her favorite noodle place for dinner; her favorite perfume dabbed behind your ears; a tight, low-cut minidress for easy access; your lips painted a smeary black, so she can see where they've been later.

"I'm gonna go out for a bit," she tells you, before you can make your play.

You were ready for a lot of things, but not this. Improvise. You put on your best disappointed pout, tug your bodice down a little more.

"Wait, weren't we going to…"

"Later, okay? A friend just texted me that he's got something I need for," she waves to the kitchen.

"Can't he just drop it off?" you beg.

"Nah. Fragile. I'll be back," she says. The door clicks solidly behind her.

Well, shit. There goes your plan for the night. And your… you hadn't worked up to "girlfriends" yet, which is a mistake on your part, you know. But she's out the door.

You give it a few minutes. You can wait patiently.

—

You've talked yourself into giving it a few hours when you really start to fume.

What the fuck is that godawful vat that's so important to her? How is it somehow a higher priority than you? Fuck it, fuck her, she needs to get this the right way around. She's going to come back to a scene she won't forget in a hurry.

You stomp into the kitchen and face down the vat. The smell is. Wow. Okay. That's a lot. But if it was really deadly toxic, she wouldn't leave it out like this, right?

You're going to drink it, throw it back up, splash some around, tell her she needs to choose because she apparently can't have both.

You're going to drink it, throw it back up, you tell yourself, as you dip a mug in and hold your nose.

Your throat spasms the minute the stuff is in your mouth, forcing it down. It's inside you in seconds, the whole mug.

You're not going to throw it up. You… need more. You scoop more out, lift it to your lips. Swallow. Again. Again.

—

She does come home to a scene.

"Oh fuck no, you didn't drink it, did you. You did."

"I," you tell her. You burp up a bit. "Absolutely. Did. You can't have." It spills down your chin and drips on your dress. "Both. Okay?"

"Yeah, no, here's the thing, I was going to break up with you. Gods. What a mess." She drops a paper bag down on the little kitchen counter, sits next to you, puts her head in her hands. "I was almost finished with it."

"So was I," you drool. You're so full. You can't get the stuff back out of you, though. You tried. You tried so hard. The vat is empty and it's all in you. Your eyes flutter closed and open and half-closed again.

"Oh, no, not by a long shot, you're not. I'm not wasting another year."

You hear the crinkle of paper. She's opening the bag. She forces a small hard thing into your mouth. It cracks and electricity crawls down all your limbs at once.

"Guess I'm stuck with you," she says, as you sink back to the floor.

You feel cold metal on your skin. She's taken the coils off the vat, she's wrapping them around you. You hear the clatter of the keyboard.

And then your skin starts to roil. The muddy brown fluid is in you, it's oozing out of everywhere, it is you, you're light and heavy at once, and you flow, and you're moving in ways that flesh and bone aren't supposed to move, and it seems like it should hurt,

And then you hear the familiar velcro noise as she tightens the harness of her strap. You don't remember her cock being this big. What the fuck. There's no way she expects you to take that… is there?

She stands over you, shoves it into you. And your new flesh flows to take her. As best you can, anyway. Her thrusts pushes the last dissolving, infiltrated bits of you out of you, the last pain, and now you're just you, and you pass out.

And then you wake up. And she's got a cock smeared with you, and a… smile? on her face. Like you're not what she wanted, but maybe, just maybe, she can work with this. So she starts again.

Later, you realize: You're moved in. So that's good, right? You want to find her and tell her, but you can't get outside the copper circle, and you can't quite form words yet, after what she's done to your throat. Okay. You can wait. You live here now anyway. □

[jerzwriter]

Predictable

In the just in the nick of time category! For week 4 of @lilyoffandoms Writer Appreciation Week, here is a little AU for my paired writer, @trappedinfanfiction, featuring her OTP Ethan x Celia and my OTP Tobias x Casey. I hope you enjoy it, Tif!

Book: Open Heart (Book 3 Timeline)

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Celia Moore Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish

Rating: Teen

Words: 2250

Summary: Celia and Casey have become good friends and believe a double date is in order! Unfortunately, their boyfriends are ex-best friends and rivals. Watch as the night unfold. Will it go better than expected, or be a disaster?

A/N: Participating in @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 Day 9 Date Night.

The condo was quiet. Entirely too quiet for them getting ready for a Saturday night out, but it wasn’t just any night, and Celia knew Ethan was miffed. Putting the final touches on her makeup, she bit her cheek to stop herself from laughing at his pouting. She knew he wasn’t happy, but the huffing and grumbling under his breath as he changed his tie for the fifth time was a bit... dramatic... to say the least.

Clearing her throat to get his attention, she was disappointed when the scowl remained on his face. Even the incredibly low-cut black silk dress she picked for the evening wasn’t cheering him up.

“Do you need some help picking out a tie? I can help.”

“I am capable of picking out a tie,” he stated flatly. “But... thank you.”

“You do seem to be struggling,” she teased as he collapsed into an easy chair with a sigh.

“Is it too late to say we have a fatal condition that will miraculously disappear in the next 24 hours.”

“Interesting...” Celia sang as she playfully sat on his lap. “Because it wasn’t all that long ago when I did have a mystery illness, and we weren’t sure I had another 24 hours left.  But, thanks to Tobias, I’m here... sitting on your lap... in this incredibly hot dress that you have not had the decency to acknowledge!”

His stony façade crumbled as his eyes traced her body, happily landing on her decolletage, just inches from the pleasant grin tugging at his lips.

“You make an excellent point,” he surrendered, his hands roaming over her curves. “But it was a team effort. We can hardly credit Tobias with saving you.”

“Oh? Would you like to redo the night and exclude him... just to see how things turn out?”

Ethan’s silence was all the answer she needed, and she rose to her feet with a triumphant grin.

“That’s all the more reason for us to stay in... I’m sure Tobias, of all people, would understand that I’d rather do... other things...”

“Nice try,” she laughed. “But we’re meeting Casey and Tobias at Menton in thirty minutes, like it or not.”

“Well, you know my answer to that.”

“Ethan. Casey is a good friend, and it’s ridiculous to think we can’t have dinner with our boyfriends, especially when they were once best friends themselves.”

“Were being the operative word.”

“Is asking you to be polite for one evening too much?”

“It’s not,” he sighed.  “You’re right.”

“I know I am,” she simpered. “You know when most people say ‘my better half,’ it’s just a term of endearment, but in our case, I very much am your better half. The sooner you accept that, the better.”

Ethan barked out a laugh. “Then we’re in luck. Because I’ve already accepted it.  Now let’s go, but we’re not staying a minute past 9:30... agreed?”

“Agreed. Just be a good boy, Ethan, and I’ll reward you later.”

“In that case, we don’t stay a minute past 9:00.”

In a townhome across town...

A manicured hand crept out from the billowy covers and blindly reached at the nightstand in search of her blaring phone. Casey’s attention was very much on other things, but they had ignored the first three alarms; they couldn’t do it again.

Undeterred, Tobias remained in place, placing a trail of hot kisses from her belly up toward her chin, stopping to linger on some of his favorite spotsalong the way.

“Tobias,” she giggled, attempting to wiggle out from under him. “Tobias! We have to go. Our reservation is in 30 minutes, and we’re still naked.”

With a heaving breath, he collapsed on her in defeat. “I happen to like us naked.  Can we please just cancel? I’m telling you, Ramsey won’t give a damn if we do.”

“Agreed,” she said, turning on the light. “In fact, you’d probably make his night. But I’d be disappointed, and so would Celia. So I ask you, do you want to disappoint two beautiful women but make Ethan’s dreams come true?”

He rolled over with a grumble. “When you put it that way...”

“Tobias, Celia is one of my best friends. It’s not like we’ll ask for it often, but once in a while, you and Ethan will need to put up with each other.”  

“Why?”

Casey flipped around, her coquettish gaze saying more than words could express.

“Because I’m asking you to.”

“Fine,” he smirked. “But outside of this apartment, no one is to know how goddamned whipped you have me. OK?”

“Yeah,” she cackled. “Too late for that, Carrick. Why don’t you go pick out what heels I’ll wear tonight?  This way, you have something nice to focus on during the meal?”

“Yeah,” his eyes lit up. “Can I pick out the undies, too?”

“Undies?” she winked.  “You were expecting me to wear undies?”

“Never mind,” he replied gleefully. “But stop talking like that, or we will be staying home!”

“Go get dressed, Dr. Carrick. I’ve given you your appetizer, and if you behave at dinner, I assure you desert will be spectacular.”

Tobias shook his head as he reached the bedroom door, turning back to Casey with a smile.  

“You know, sometimes I still can’t believe I’ve met you.”

“Yeah, yeah...” she teased. “You can thank your lucky stars when the sunsets. Now go get dressed!”

Forty Five minutes later...

Ethan was tapping his foot in annoyance as Celia perused the menu.  Tobias and Casey were already fifteen minutes late, and Ethan was inquiring how long they had to give them before they left when the guilty parties appeared.  Holding hands as they moved through the crowd, the smiles on their faces left little question about what Tobias was whispering in her ear. Ethan rolled his eyes just as Celia glanced in his direction.

“Ethan!” she scolded.  

“I don’t know what she sees in him.  Maybe we should introduce her to my friend Arutur. We’d be saving her a lifetime of grief.”

“Arthur?” Celia grimaced. “The guy in the opera box next to yours?”

“Yes.”

“The one who forages and organizes his cupboards for fun?”

“Yes. He’s a grown-up.”

“He’s a bore! And even if Casey wasn’t happy with Tobias, you need to stick with your day job because you do not have a future in matchmaking.”

Tobias stuck close to Casey as they neared the table.

“God, he looks as miserable as ever,” he groaned.

“Tobias, Ethan’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, he is. Look at him. I think his face would crack if he attempted a sincere smile.”

“Tobias, weren’t you besties at one point? How bad can he be?”

“That was a long time ago. He was a lot more fun back then.”

“Maybe he just needs you to help bring that fun side out again.”

“I’m sure that’s the last thing he wants.”

“I didn’t say want; I said need. Now, just be your jovial self.  And if dinner becomes difficult, just focus on dessert, OK?”

“I’ve been focusing on nothing but. Remember, we’re out of here by 9:00.”

After quick greetings, Ethan summonsed the waiter over to place their drink orders.

“How difficult was it to get him here,” Celia whispered to Casey.

“On a scale of 1-10.  I’d say a 9.  What about you?”

“At least a 15.  But, we’re here,” Celia smiled. 

Tobias and the women agreed on a bottle of wine to share, and then Ethan placed an order for Macallan 18, Sherry Cask.   

“Damn,” Tobias chuckled. “Still drinking that?

“Never stopped.”

“Wait, you drank that during med school?” Celia marveled. “That’s an awfully hefty price tag for a struggling med school student.”

“Some things are worth sacrificing for, dear.”

“So I’ve heard,” Celia winked. “Did you share that bill with him back then, Tobias?”

“Me? Oh, hell no! I drank nothing but cheap stuff back then.”

“Really?” Casey gasped. “But you had a champagne budget.”

“He didn’t want everyone to know that,” Ethan stepped in.

“Nope,” Tobias agreed.  “So I just took the risk of drinking nothing but Boone’s Berry Creek.”

“Did that protect your secret?” Celia asked.

“Unfortunately not.  The Carrick name was just too known at Hopkins, so... I gave up.”

“I’m sure your liver was thankful,” Casey smiled as a look of almost sympathy crossed Ethan’s face.

“Back then, we were both trying to pretend we were something we weren’t. We both had something to prove, even if they were different things.”

“Yeah, and we both failed miserably,” Tobias half smiled.  

“But at least you became friends,” Casey said.  “That’s something.”

“It was,” Ethan replied, taking a sip of his newly arrived drink. “Until we weren’t.”  

“It was a... complicated time,” Tobias offered, as an uncomfortable atmosphere settled on their table.

Celia and Casey kept chatting to keep the mood light, but even they began to wonder if 9:00 might be pushing it. Relief washed over them as the first course arrived, but Tobias’s eyes went wide.  

“Ethan, don’t look up, but is that Richard Barder?”

“Richard Barder?” Ethan blurted as his head circled the room.  “Where?”

“I said don’t look up!” Tobias admonished.

“Now, how the hell am I supposed to know if it’s him if I don’t look up!”

Suppressing smiles, Celia and Casey’s eyes met across the table.

“I think it’s him,” Ethan stated.

“Oh, that’s him,” Tobias agreed. “Goddamn, I haven’t seen him since his wedding.”

Ethan snorted in amusement.  “Which one?” he scoffed.

“The second, I believe. How many is he up to now?”  

“To the best of my knowledge, he’s on spouse number four.”  

“Jesus,” Tobias laughed. “I guess if, at first, you don’t succeed....”

“Amazing,” Celia declared. “Someone in your Hopkins class getting married? I thought that was forbidden?”

“Apparently, Richard is making up for all of those from their class who refuse,” Casey laughed.

“Trust me. You two wouldn’t want to marry either of us if we were Richard,” Tobias insisted.

“Well, it seems like four other people would disagree with that,” Celia teased.

“In fairness, three of those four probably no longer agree with that statement,” Casey surmised.

“There’s a lid for every pot out there,” Ethan shrugged. “But as bright as you two are, you’d never agree to marry the likes of Richard.”

“Aww, Ethan,” Casey grinned. “Are you saying I’m smart for picking Tobias?”

“I said no such thing!” He snapped. “I would deny it in a court of law.”

Celia rolled her eyes. “With three witnesses? Good luck with that!”

Tobias hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation at the table, instead focusing on Richard holding court at the bar.  “You know, enough avoiding him. Let’s go say hello.  Can’t hurt to get the scoop on what happened with marriage three and four.”

“I’m not interested in idle gossip.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Tobias shot back. “I’m going to go say hi, and when I come back, don’t you dare ask me what he said because I won’t tell you.”

Ethan sat perfectly still, but it was clear to see an internal battle waging inside.  As Tobias stood up, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Fine! I’ll go.”

“I knew you would,” Tobias smirked.

“Will you two be OK?” Ethan asked.

“Yes,” Celia mocked. “Somehow, we’ll manage to survive without the two of yo.  Go ahead and get your gossip, my dear.”

The two women sipped their wine as they watched the men walk to the bar, animatedly chatting as if they hadn’t spent the last decade avoiding each other.

“So,” Celia simpered.  “What time did Tobias tell you that you had to be out of here?”

“Nine.  And you?”

“Nine,” Celia laughed. “God, they are two sides of the same coin, aren’t they?”

“Twenty dollars says we’ll be heading home much later than nine.  In fact, we’ll probably be the ones begging to go.”

“Didn’t you hear Ethan?” Celia joked. “We’re smart. Why would I take that bet?”

“They’re too predictable,” Casey laughed.

“Yeah, but they’re cute.”

“Hey!” Casey said, playfully shoving her friend’s shoulder.  “Eyes off of my boyfriend.”

“Pfft!” Celia waved.  “Feel free to look at mine.  Just look, of course.”

Hours later...

Casey’s head was nuzzled on Tobias’s shoulder.  “Tobias,” she yawned. “I really think we should head home.”

“I agree,” Celia nodded. “It’s way past my bedtime.

“It’s not even midnight,” Ethan scowled.

“I know, but we have that... thing... to do in the morning.”

“In the morning?” Ethan questioned. 

“Ethan,” Casey rolled her eyes. “Morning is in like fifteen minutes.  She wants to do you in the morning.  Can’t you take the hint?”

“I’m sure you have things to do, too,” Celia winked.

“Yes,” Tobias grinned. “Me.  I’m things.  She has to do me.”

Ethan ran a hand down the front of hi face.  “You two are a match made in heaven.”

“I don’t know If heaven will take credit for this,” Celia laughed.

“I suppose we should get going,” Tobias agreed.

“Yes,” Ethan nodded.  “But we should do this again sometime soon.”

“You know, Casey & I have tickets for the Sox game next Tuesday.  Luxury box! You’re both welcome to join us.”

“Count us in!” Ethan insisted.

The two men gabbed non-stop as they waited for their taxis. 

“We knew this would happen,” Casey whispered.

“Sure did.  You know what this means, don’t you?”

“That eventually we’re going to be telling them we’d rather spend the night alone with them?”

“Absolutely,” Casey grinned.  “They’re just too predictable.”

~~

Thanks for reading!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Other tags in reblog

[fortheloveoffanfic]

The Holiday Arrangement

Andy Barber x Reader

Author's Note: I have not been even remotely good at getting back to all the love and engagement that this has received, both in the replies and reblogs, but its so appreciated and they've made writing and posting this fic so much more fun! Summary: When co-parenting during the holidays becomes difficult to navigate, Y/n brings a proposal to her ex-husband, Andy; spend Christmas together- for the sake of their daughter. Their already complicated arrangement becomes even more messy new memories dredge up buried feelings. Masterlists Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: When a trip to see Santa Claus at the mall goes awry, it puts things into perspective for Andy. Warnings- Angst

The next Monday With just three weeks until Christmas, school out and countless people already on vacation, the only mall in the heart of Newton was packed. It didn’t help that Santa was supposed to be there either. They’d done everything right; woken up at seven, left home at eight and had gotten to the mall by nine- before it was even open- and still, it had taken them more than an hour to get a parking spot. It would have appeared that everyone else had the same idea- get there early to beat the crowd. 

By the time they’d secured a spot, at least fifteen minutes away from the main entrance, Y/n could tell that Andy was a little miffed- he’d always been a little too impatient to deal with traffic. Though, despite his obvious irritation, he’d kept his cool, never wanting to show his frustration in front of their daughter, who’d been practically bouncing off walls since she’d awoken that morning. To say she was excited about seeing Santa would have been an incredible understatement. 

“Can we go see him now?” Were Grace’s first words the minute the trio set foot in the mall, and she looked almost comical as she jumped up and down excitedly while all bundled up in a black parka with forest animal drawings all about it and the faux-fur lined hood pulled over her dark head, almost entirely covering her face.

“We have to line up first,” Y/n explained, dropping to her knees in front of Grace so she could help her take off her purple gloves and unzip the coat to reveal her cute, warm but picture ready outfit underneath; her favorite blue sweater with a woolen owl stitched onto the front and thick leggings. “Then you can see Santa. Got it?”

“Got it!” Grace cheered, still brimming with enthusiasm. Upon standing, Andy took one of Grace’s hands while Y/n took the other, both of them leading her to the escalators that would take them to the upstairs atrium, where Santa was supposed to be. 

There was already a line when they got there, with about twenty other kids in front of Grace waiting their turn, and out of the corner of her eyes, Y/n noted the drop of defeat in Andy’s shoulders; each kid had been allotted ten minutes to tell Santa what they wanted and to take a couple pictures which meant that if every child used up their time to the very minute, they’d be looking at least a two hour and forty minute wait. For a man who’s patience was a little as Andrew Barber’s, that was two hours and twenty minutes too many. 

“You can walk around or go get coffee or something if the wait is too long,” Y/n offered after about fifteen minutes. 

“And miss taking a picture of my little bunny on Santa’s lap? No way,” he chuckled, tapping the pad of his pointer finger to Grace’s nose, making her giggle and grab at his hand. His words prompted a broad grin from Y/n that was hard to fight; a year ago, he wouldn’t have even joined them at the mall, especially if he knew he’d be standing in line for almost three hours so his sudden change of heart was a welcome surprise. She didn’t think Andy noticed the warmth that had gathered in her eyes at his simple profession, and not wanting to chance him seeing it, she turned away for a minute, fixing her gaze on a clothing store to her left.

After ten minutes had passed and they’d only moved one place ahead when Andy’s phone rang loudly, the sound rising above the Christmas carols wafting from the speakers fitted to the ceiling. Glancing at the screen, he grimaced before flashing Y/n and Grace an apologetic look. “Its my  boss. I’ll be five minutes- ten tops,” he promised,” letting Grace’s hand in favor of gesturing with his open palm. 

“Daddy,” Grace protested with a pout as he started stepping away. 

“I’ll be right back,” he offered again, swiping to answer the call, leaving them both standing in line as he started walking a little way up the pathway, probably in search of somewhere quiet to handle whatever his boss wanted him to.

Y/n knew that she shouldn’t have been upset, he’d been completely present up until then and it wasn’t like he could control when his boss called anyway, but she couldn’t help but feel like the phone call was just the beginng. Grace’s doe-eyed look of disappointment didn’t help either. “Daddy’s gonna be right back,” she gave her daughter’s hand a little squeeze. Grace didn’t respond, instead nodding stiffly before starting to pick at the hem of her sweater. 

Sighing as they took a step up when the rest of the line did, Y/n fixed her eyes on the direction that Andy had disappeared off to, practically willing him to reappear. The longer he took, the more she worried that the phone call wouldn’t be the end of interruption. She was so preoccupied with manifesting Andy’s reappearance that she hadn’t even noticed the person behind her trying to call her attention until they tapped her shoulder.

“Huh-oh my God,” she grinned upon turning slightly to see who it was. “Peter, hey.” They worked at different departments at the same company; she worked in finance while he was in accounting. Their paths crossed often though, and after word of her divorce had spread among her friends group at work, she had noticed Peter discreetly trying to get closer. He wasn’t very forward with his advances, and while Y/n did think he was sweet and attractive she was grateful for his restraint; she didn’t think she was ready to date yet anyway. 

“I didn’t know you had kids,” she glanced at the children he’d brought with him; a little boy about Grace’s age and a toddler on his hip. 

“I don’t,” he ducked his head bashfully, allowing a loose, dark curl to fall over his brow, “They’re my sister’s,” he lifted his head again, “This is Jack,” he introduced the boy, “And Mae. She had to work,” he began while Y/n reached out for the little girl’s hand “And their dad’s…..you know,” he shrugged indifferently and the look on his face was enough to tell her that the children’s after, for whatever reason, was out of the picture. 

“I see you’re here with my favorite coworker,” setting the younger girl down for a minute, Peter crouched so he could have a couple words with Grace, who he’d first met at their office’s ‘take your child to work day’ earlier that year, another time when he’d come over to fix the kitchen sink and finally a couple other times after he’d driven Y/n home when her car was down- it went without saying that he and Grace were pretty acquainted. 

“So,” he leaned in conspiringly, “What’re you gonna ask Santa for?”

“I can’t tell you,” Grace giggled, former mood forgotten, “Its a secret.”

“Oh come on,” he enticed dramatically, “I won’t tell,” he winked.

Slapping her hands to her mouth to hide a broad grin, Grace shook her head, barely containing the loud laughter that slipped past her small fingers. In return, Peter chuckled, “This one’s good at keeping secrets,” he declared as he stood again, picking Mae up so he could resume his hold on Jack’s hand. “This line’s crazy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Y/n agreed, “We’ve been here for about forty minutes,” she sighed, “My feet already killing me,” she chortled quietly, glancing down at her feet clad in swede, heeled boots- probably not the best choice for the day. 

Peter laughed too, “Maybe we can grab cocoa after these three get their Santa time?” He suggested, quickly adding, “So you can rest your feet and we can catch up,” even if it had actually only been two days since they’d last seen each other, “They already seem to be getting along,” he threw a glance and Grace and Jack, who’d started playing amongst themselves. 

Her smile slipped for a second, Y/n didn’t think Andy would want to join her work friend for cocoa and they’d already planned to take Grace for pizza and then walk around for a bit after lunch anyway, and she was actually quite excited about their plans. “Actually-”

“Hey, sorry I took so long,” before she could turn Peter down, Andy returned, seeming a little frazzled and giving off the impression that he was in a hurry. 

“Its fine,” she glanced at him as he touched the top of Grace’s head while looking between her and Peter. “Uh, Andy, you remember Peter?” When he furrowed his brows, she explained further, “From work, you met him at the bar-b-que-”

“Right!” He remembered suddenly, “Peter the accountant,” he put out his hand for a quick, polite shake. 

“And you’re Andrew the ex,” he joked lightly, though it didn’t seem to go over well with Andy, who clenched his jaw while retracting his hand. As he did, Andy’s phone beeped and he checked it quickly, letting out what she could only interpret as a frustrated sigh. 

“Everything okay?” Y/n probed as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

“Yeah, no, I just uh…..that was Lynn,” he cleared his throat and the look on his face made her anticipate his next words, “She wants me down at the office.”

Y/n scoffed, trying to keep her cool and maintain appearances in front of her friend, “Right now?” 

Andy gestured defeatedly, dropping his arms at his side, “She says one of the legal assistants just got their hands on some surveillance footage and she wants me to go take a look at it.”

“And then do what?” Y/n huffed a dry chuckle, “The courts aren’t open till January.”

Realizing that anything further would lead to an argument in public, Y/n shook her head, “Just go,” she turned away, panning her hardened gaze to the floor more to her right. 

She heard Andy sigh heavily, “I’m sorry,” he offered heavily as she blinked away unshed emotion, “I’ll be back for pictures,” he sounded earnest, but Y/n wasn’t prepared to hold her breath waiting for his return. “I gotta go, Bunny,” he offered Grace softly, and through her periphery, she saw him kissing their daughter’s forehead. 

“But daddy, you can’t leave yet,” she protested, reaching for his hand. It broke her heart that he was doing it again; letting them down in favor of work. “We haven’t even seen Santa.” 

When Y/n focused her attention on Grace and Andy again, he was bending to ruffle her hair as he promised, “I’ll be back before you do.”

“Promise?” She asked, big eyes hopeful. 

Briefly, their eyes met, and Y/n hoped the edge in her gaze was enough to stop him from saying what he was going to. “I…..I’ll do my best,” he smiled tightly, giving her another kiss, that time on the cheek. “I’m really sorry,” he mouthed to Y/n before leaving again. 

After he was gone, she and Peter stood in awkward silence, and she didn’t have to look at him to know that he was feeling bad for them. Anyone who’d heard the urgency in Andy's voice could tell that he wasn’t going to be back soon, besides it did seem to be a running theme with his work; one thing led to another, and then another. “Y/n, I-”

“You know what?” She straightened her back and shoulders, blinking quickly to clear her vision, “We’d love to get cocoa after this.”

That evening Just as Andy was turning off the stove, he heard a car pull up in front, and grabbing a dish towel off the counter, he hurried over to the living room window, getting to it just in time to see everything unfold. Peter getting out of the driver’s side of a silver Lexus, heading to the back door that faced the house just as Y/n got out of the front passenger seat. She’d texted him a couple hours earlier, when he was just about to leave the office, at first it was just a couple pictures of Grace with Santa Claus but afterwards she’d sent a short message letting him know that Peter would drive them home and she’d meet him there. 

The guilt that had washed over him in that moment had been utterly overwhelming. 

After Peter had helped Grace out of the car and the doors had been shut, he and Y/n hugged for a little longer than friends usually did and Andy felt a surge of jealousy join his mountain of guilt. It felt like he was watching his replacement move in on his family. Even after Peter had gotten into his car again, it lingered on the curb until Y/n opened the front door, letting Grace in first. 

The sound of their footsteps beckoned Andy to the mouth of the hall, where he caught them wiping their feet off on the mat and Y/n helping Grace out of her parka, which was adorned with flecks of white. “Daddy!” She beamed and the minute Y/n took her hat off, Grace bounded towards him, seemingly unbothered by his failure to get back to the mall.

Y/n however was visibly pissed.

Feigning a groan, he lifted Grace off her feet, planting a big kiss on her cheek. His heart swoll a little when she held his face against hers for a moment, and in response, Andy hugged her a little tighter. “How was the mall Bunny?”

“It was great! I got to tell Santa what I wanted, we took pictures then we got cocoa,” and just when he thought she was done, Grace continued exuberantly, “And then we went to the arcade and Peter won me a snowman!”

The mention of him made Andy’s expression falter and he felt a pang in his chest; what kind of man took another someone else's family to the arcade? 

The kind that stepped up when a father put everything else before his kid and the woman he claimed to love. 

“Yeah?” Grace nodded, asking her mother for her snowman as the three of them entered the kitchen. From a large, brown shopping bag, Y/n produced a stuffed snowman, back bowler hat and red and green scarf making him look like the embodiment of a seasonal tune.

“His name is Fred Frosty!” She declared, offering the toy to Andy. 

“Cool, how’d you come up with that?”

“Peter helped,” of course he did. Internally, Andy rolled his eyes; was the man determined to prove himself a better fit? 

“Why don’t you go introduce Fred to Mr. Bear?” Y/n suggested when Andy finally set Grace down, and with a vigorous nod, Grace made a beeline for the staircase. As their little one disappeared out of earshot, Y/n moved over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room, setting down her handbag and two shopping bags. 

“So Peter,” he broke the silence, letting jealousy get the better of him. He didn’t think it could be helped though; he screws up once and suddenly there’s another man there to fill his shoes. 

“Don’t even start with that,” Y/n warned pointedly. 

Andy scoffed, “Start with what?”

“‘So Peter’,” she mocked, “You,” she pointed angrily, “Were the one that said he’d be back before pictures. We spent 2 hours in line- I let Peter’s niece and nephew go before us, hoping you’d show up. But then suddenly it's over, another hour is gone and I don’t get as much as a text from you.”

Swallowing thickly, he ran a hand through his hair, “I got caught up-”

“Like you always do,” Y/n interrupted, “Its always work before us- before her.”

“That is not true,” he argued firmly, “Grace is always my first priority, you know that.”

Shaking her head, Y/n licked her lips, “She wasn’t today-”

“If I’d left that footage today, it would have gone to Neal- he would have gotten that case and my promotion,” Andy cut her off, “It’s just one day, she isn’t even upset,” even if he was, that was not the point. “She’s not even gonna remember that I wasn’t there.”

“Exactly, Andy; she’s not going to remember that you weren’t there, because she’s been going to see Santa every year since she was born and you’ve never been there. She’s not going to remember because to her this is normal. But every time you skip out on us for work, that’s another memory that you’re not a part of.” Tugging off her scarf, she made her way to the living room, draping the thick, plaid strip of fabric over the back of the recliner before starting to peel off her long, leather coat, briefly exposing the woolen inside as she did. “And you’re lucky right now you’re still this big hero in her mind,” she gestured widely with the maroon garment held in one hand, “To her, you can do no wrong and as long as you’re around more often than not, you can keep being that for her,” draping the coat over her scarf, Y/n paused, “But when one day, when she grows up and realizes that your job always comes first it is going to break her heart. She’s gonna look back at the pictures from today and remember that you said you’d come back but didn’t,” her voice broke at the end as fury turned to hurt. 

At a loss for words as everything she said hit him, Andy half sat against the back of the sofa, hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders hunched forward a little and eyes fixed on the polished hardwood. He hadn’t thought of it like that; Grace was okay now, but one day she might find out that he broke his promises and let his work come first. 

Maybe he was everything the divorce papers had made him out to be- the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. 

He didn’t know how to talk about his feelings, he didn’t even know how to focus on his family while he was on vacation. 

“You’re right,” he elicited softly, hanging his head, “God, you’re so right.” Clasping his fingers together in front of himself, he moistened his lips and shook his head. “Its all my fault, just like you’ve been saying,” he huffed. He’d spent so long telling himself that he didn’t know where it had all gone wrong, that he had done everything he could to keep their marriage together, but the truth was that he hadn’t. Leaving them at the mall wasn’t an isolated incident; for Y/n’s birthday the year before. he'd been late to her party and then on their last Thanksgiving together, he’d let her and Grace go to her parents’ without him. He’d pushed Y/n away every time she got too close and guarded himself against her efforts to help him open up. 

The click of her heels on the floor was the only  indication of Y/n stepping closer that Andy registered. “You’re a good man, Andy,” she offered, tone as gentle as she reached over to place her smaller hand over his clasped ones, giving his fingers an affectionate squeeze, “I know that, I just want Grace to know that too.” 

Andy sighed again, shifting his hands so Y/n’s would be sandwiched between his. “I screwed everything up, Y/n,” he wallowed, finally lifting his head. Unintentionally, their eyes met, hers were a little dim but Andy couldn’t tell if it was with sympathy or something else, but he did know that he hoped she could see the remorse in his. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t the man you two deserved,” he elicited a heavy breath, “I’m sorry that drove you away.”

Y/n frowned and quickly glanced down at their joined hands, though she made no move to separate them. “Its not too late,” she smiled sadly, matching his gaze once more. Her words linger for a moment, sparking an ember of hope in the center of his chest- until she doused it. “For Grace,” she stuttered, “Its not too late for Grace. You know? She still thinks you’re…..a kind, intelligent, compassionate man. Even if you don’t know how to show it.” 

He mulled over her words for a minute, “She thinks that?” Y/n nodded and he hesitated before asking, “What else does she think?”

Y/n thought on his question for a moment, “She thinks…..that- she knows that another man isn’t gonna love her the way you do. She knows that….she’s not gonna love another man the way she loves you.”

“Grace?” He probed, knitting his brows.

“Grace,” Y/n reaffirmed, clearing her throat and hastily pulling her hand away. Rubbing her palms anxiously on the sides of her jeans, she explained, clearly flustered, “Cause um….no one loves a little girl like her daddy. And to her you’re irreplaceable,” then, apparently finding her explanation lacking, Y/n added, “Because you’re her father.”

Smiling tightly, he nodded, “I got it.” His heart dropped when Y/n turned away to head upstairs and get Grace ready for dinner; of course it would always mean the world to him that Grace looked up at him, but for a split second, he’d thought that there was still hope for him and Y/n. But she’d made sure to draw a hard line, making it exceedingly clear that any chance of their reconciliation had been taken off the table when they signed the papers.

Tagging: @royalwritersoftheuniverses @patzammit @funfickgirl22 @talesofadragon @what-is-your-plan-today @pono-pura-vida @mdpplgtz03 @shipheart @marvelmenwhore @itschrismasevans @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @bemysugarbean @wintasssoldier @elrw24 @imyourbratzdoll @chasingsnowintheshadows @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @sarahdonald87

[petit-papillion]

the poles are great to help get the podiums tho, so it is important. Who cares if people who knows nothing keeps repating the whole ratio thing

Hi anon!

I know, I know... I know it's important to get pole for positioning, avoid getting involved in lap 1 crashes, and I believe there are bonuses for the team as well. I wouldn't really want Charles to change his approach to quali much - after all, it is my favorite part of the race weekend.

I was just griping because I am so fed up with people bringing it up all the time as a negative, calling him a bottler, and whatnot. Even during testing, the F1 commentators were saying how bad his pole-to-win conversion was, and I was just miffed about it. Especially since those guys really should know better.

By the way, if you ever hear René Arnoux, Ralf Schumacher or David Coulthard mention it, just know (as of right now) they have even worse ptw ratios than Charles.

Anyway, my hope for this year is that Charles will get the chance to prove himself on race days as well (think Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi). That he will make people talk about his race craft, his incredible overtakes, his tyre management, and his clever thinking during races to plan ahead, instead of "Oh, another Max win from a Charles pole."

[a-wild-golden-gryphon]

What if Dream escaped the fishbowl during the holidays and things went a little differently

~~~

Hob Gadling's annual Friendsmas gathering was in full swing. There was plenty of food, drink, and being merry.

And right there in the living room, above all the mingling friends in hideous Christmas sweaters, a bright blue portal opens in the ceiling and spits out a man-shaped being.

The party comes to a standstill. "God's wounds!" Hob recognizes the unmoving figure immediately and rushes to his side. A couple of his friends do so as well, a mixture of disbelief and apprehension clear in their movements.

He looked similar: black hair, pale skin smooth like marble, and black clothes. However, he seemed thinner than usual and his clothing was a simple thin robe, nothing like the fashionable period-appropriate pieces he's worn before. His eyes were open and they, too, were black like they've never been before.

His friends suggest calling an ambulance. The stranger is cold and has no pulse. That, along with the eyes... would they even be able to help him? He shakes his head. "No. I... I know him. No ambulance. I'm 87 percent certain he's not human."

"No, really? Have you seen his eyes? Did you not see him fall out of a ceiling portal like 5 seconds ago?"

"How do you know him?"

Everyone shuts up when the stranger breathes in, incredibly slowly, and then speaks. "Hob."

Hob looks down and smiles, a mixture of concern and fondness playing across his face. "You're late."

Nearly a full five minutes go by in which his stranger's black eyes take in Hob like he's finally seeing water in an endless desert. About one minute in, Hob begins to worry. Should he have said that? Maybe he messed up again. Will his stranger storm out? Well, he didn't seem to have the energy to do that, but... fuck. "I- I'm sor-"

A small smile, and then, "My apologies. I have always heard it impolite to keep one's friends waiting."

Hob is, at first, elated at being called a friend, but then he frowns, realizing his friend (no longer a stranger) is just now responding to what he said a handful of minutes ago. "Are you alright? You seem... off." He motions to his own eyes. "And your eyes are, uh, different."

Someone else in the room, Samantha, says, "it's like he's lagging. Maybe he's on dial-up."

Mystery friend frowns. "There is no need to apologize. You have done nothing wrong."

"This is literally insane," whispers Cassie. Hob gives her a look that says "I'm very aware."

He waits for the response. And waits.

"Off is an accurate assessment. It seems I did not have the power to make it back to my realm in one piece. Nor do I have the power to appear completely human."

"What the fuck." Is definitely what everyone in the room is thinking. Two people say it out loud.

"Believe that my inability to respond in a timely manner is just as frustrating to me as it is to you."

Yes, Hob has to admit it is quite frustrating. As an immortal he personally has all the time in the world. His mortal friends, however...

"Perhaps as a consolation I can offer you something. My name." Everyone, especially Hob, waits in anticipation. "I have many. Most know me as Morpheus."

Morpheus. Hob is a bit miffed that he's finally getting a name at the same time as everyone else in the room who haven't been meeting with this being every one hundred years.

"But you, Robert Gadling, may call me Dream." Hob's floating. He doesn't hear anything his other friends are saying. God, he's going to have to answer so many questions.

Dream. His name is Dream.

"Hello Dream," he beams. "Welcome to Friendsmas."

[pantoneyoongi]

neon signs | jealousy is a disease

title ; jealousy is a disease pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you 

notes ; 

this is part of the neon signs drabble series, where drabbles are released in random order (but listed chronologically in the masterlist!) 

series description ;

namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi. 

(alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.) 

word count ; 2.2k

tags ; yoongi is a simp, that’s all i have to say, pls go to masterlist for more / general tags 

look, yoongi will never admit it. but whenever seokjin’s name comes out of your mouth, he has the oddest urge to abruptly switch subjects until seokjin is the farthest thing from your mind. you always brighten up when you talk about him, saying seokjin this and seokjin that and fine, the way your eyes light up is incredibly endearing and that’s great but how come it’s always jinnie said the funniest thing today and never yoongi you’re the funniest person i know, huh?

probably because yoongi is not the funniest person you know, and he’s pretty sure he never will be because yoongi is not exactly the class clown type. but he digresses. 

you’re doing it again now, and yoongi thinks taking the differential equations midterm exam might actually have been better than this. yes, he’ll listen to anything you have to say at any given point in time but he’s never met this seokjin guy and it’s hard not to be miffed when he’s pretty sure you’ve never once looked at yoongi the way you look when you’re talking about jinniejin.

jinniejin. are we kidding? 

(okay, yes, it’s kind of your thing. when you really want something out of namjoon you will also whip out the jooniejoon, though yoongi is maybe 98.3% certain that’s mostly because namjoon cringes really hard at it and will do just about anything to make you stop calling him that.) 

(but also, quick question - when does yoongi get a cute nickname?) 

“can he come tonight?” you ask, and yoongi immediately tunes back into the conversation. this sounds important, and not like a dissertation on how cute jin is when he’s eating like an alpaca. 

“sure,” hoseok agrees easily, the fucking traitor. his best friend glances at him and grins. “it’ll be nice to meet this guy you never stop talking about, y/n.” 

you wiggle in your seat, excited. “you’ll like him, i swear. he’s been really nice to me all semester.” your eyes fall to yoongi and he doesn’t have the heart not to smile back at you, not when you seem so eager for the boys and seokjin to meet. after all, seokjin is one of very few genuine friends you have outside of namjoon, hoseok, and yoongi, so that has to count for something. you met him at the beginning of the semester and have been enraptured since, much to yoongi’s dismay. 

having gotten your dinner plans sorted out, you say your goodbyes, running off for class. yoongi watches forlornly as you go, dreading tonight. 

.

.

.

the worst part about spring semester isn’t that you met seokjin. it’s that yoongi doesn’t share any classes with you. 

it means he has no excuses to message you one-on-one, or see you at least once or twice a week. granted, hoseok usually solves that problem by dragging you all together for dinner or piling into his dorm room on the weekends, but still. it’s not the same. chinese class was his thing with you. only you. 

now studying together is a group activity when yoongi would much prefer to be alone in a library room with you, sitting shoulder to shoulder, feeling his heart race whenever you giggle and lean in a little too close to point out his godawful penmanship. 

he’s thinking about this because you’re leaning a little too close to seokjin right now, the prettiest smile on your face as you beam up at your friend. the five of you are crowded into a table at the local diner, you next to seokjin on one side while yoongi somehow got squished between namjoon and hoseok on the other. now he gets the prime view for watching you loop your arm around seokjin’s whenever you get excited, squeezing him tight. 

do you do that with namjoon, too? hoseok? yoongi can’t remember. 

you definitely don’t do that with yoongi, though. he would absolutely remember that. 

the thing about being in the engineering department is that it makes yoongi incredibly analytical. or maybe that’s just an excuse for how yoongi is as a person. the moment you stepped through the diner door with jin on your arm, yoongi had assessed him from head to toe: tall. handsome. broad. seokjin had let you drag him forward as soon as you’d spotted your friends at the table, chuckling fondly when you’d tugged him along, legs long enough to easily keep pace with you even when you were practically skipping to the table. 

the introductions were short, and since hoseok’s here, quick to descend into chaos. seokjin matches hoseok’s energy as if they’re lifelong friends yet pulls back to be gentle with you, and yoongi thinks he might develop a headache if he sees seokjin pat your head one more time. 

by accident, he catches your eyes halfway through dinner. something in the way you look at yoongi feels hopeful, like you’re asking for his approval. between the three boys, yoongi has the hardest time making friends. hoseok and namjoon are both social butterflies in their own right; yoongi has nearly intentionally clipped his own wings in that regard. but you’re asking. when you look at him like that, you’re asking yoongi if he’ll be friends with seokjin. jinniejin. 

how can he possibly say no? 

.

.

.

see, seokjin is a nice guy, and yoongi hates that. 

he can’t explain it. well he could, but he’d prefer not to. 

at the least, seokjin only becomes a sort of floater in your group of four. he comes and goes - mostly whenever you ask him to - so for the most part seokjin is more your friend than a friend. (note that this is not yoongi’s fault. yoongi is playing nice.) 

but it’s really hard not to resent how nice seokjin is because it means that yoongi has no valid reason to not point out that your apparent favorite person is heading your way, sending you flying out from your spot next to yoongi, across the grass to take a running leap right into seokjin’s arms. 

yoongi feels like he might die. he can’t believe the trade-off to seeing you scream and giggle happily is the fact that seokjin is the one swinging you in circles, made even worse because yoongi can tell that doing that makes seokjin dizzy but seokjin seems willing to do anything to appease you with the things you want. 

seokjin sets you back down on your feet and yoongi glares at hoseok. hoseok’s the one who said you and seokjin are ‘just friends’ and that you ‘don’t have a crush’ on your new friend. hoseok is a liar. look at you! look at how happy you are just to see him! 

“don’t look at me like that,” hoseok whispers. “i know they’re close but it’s not like that.” he elbows namjoon. “tell yoongi it’s not like that.” 

“it’s not,” namjoon shrugs. “they’re really just good friends. she says he takes care of her.” 

boyfriends take care of their partners, yoongi wants to wail, but he keeps his mouth firmly shut, sucking his teeth. he keeps his head ducked but his eyes can’t stop glancing up to watch you talk animatedly to seokjin as you cross the courtyard together, seokjin patiently listening to you. he nods and hums along to everything you say, leans down a little to respond so you’re closer in height. 

something he says makes you flush, and you shove at him lightly, your face doing that thing where it gets all scrunched up because you’re embarrassed. it happens a lot when namjoon puts his foot in his mouth when he’s talking about something that was supposed to be best-friend-restricted-information. 

seokjin laughs loudly but seems to relent, rubbing your arm soothingly until you’re done pouting, and yoongi has to resist the urge to plant his face straight into the ground. 

namjoon gives him a sympathetic smile. 

lovely. 

.

.

.

ever since yoongi met seokjin, it’s like he sees him everywhere. well - not everywhere. everywhere with you. 

it’s not entirely abnormal for yoongi to bump into you on campus - between your shared minor and the university’s core curriculum requirements, there’s bound to be some overlap. but he swears he’s never seen you as often as he does now - side by side with none other than kim seokjin. 

it has his heart dropping in his chest much harder than he’d care to admit. much worse is the fact that yoongi doesn’t seem to know how to act, so every time he catches sight of you and seokjin together, he dives behind literally any object large enough to hide him. 

today, it’s some random statue decorating the campus grounds. he peeks past it, watching as you and seokjin head down the sidewalk, crossing towards one of the newer built academic buildings. he yelps when a hand clasps him on the shoulder, hoseok’s megaphone voice in his ear, “yoongi! what are you doi-”

yoongi shoves his hands against hoseok’s mouth and yanks him to the ground, head popping up to see if you noticed the commotion, but you’re at a much farther distance now, almost to the doors of the building. hoseok sputters and yanks yoongi’s hand off his mouth. “dude??” 

yoongi winces. “sorry,” he mutters. hoseok shifts over to see what yoongi is hiding from, and sucks in a breath, shaking his head. 

“jealousy is a disease, yoongi,” hoseok wags his finger at his friend. yoongi slaps his hand away. 

“please stop talking so loud.” 

“she can’t hear us! if i wanted her to hear us, i would crank it up, like, HEY-” 

“i will knock you out swear to god hoseok-” 

hoseok cackles, but it’s too late, because hoseok has an inhumane ability to project his voice across probably the entirety of campus. when yoongi glances back to see if you’ve gone into the building with seokjin, he finds instead to see your face lighting up, grin spreading across your lips as you ditch seokjin without so much as a warning to come running across the grass towards yoongi and hoseok. 

except, you severely misgauge how fast you’re going, and tumble straight into yoongi (hoseok conveniently sidestepped) and yoongi stumbles back a few steps and instinctively grabs you around the waist to steady you, startled. 

“oops,” you say breathlessly, eyes shining. for someone who wasn’t running, yoongi is also slightly out of breath. he manages a weak smile back that definitely makes it seem like he’s in pain, but you don’t notice as you gently pull away from him, yoongi’s hands slipping from your waist. “hi guys.” 

“hello,” hoseok sings, slinging an arm around your shoulders. he swings you back around to face the direction you came from. “where’d seokjin go?” 

“class, probably,” you answer. “i was looking for yoongi but i bumped into jin instead so i was walking him to class.” 

yoongi blinks. “me?” he clears his throat so he can form a full sentence. “you were looking for me?” 

you smile. “your class ended not long ago, right? near here?” 

yoongi’s heart, which had been on the ground when he saw you with seokjin, jumps right back into his chest, bursting into a sprint. he nods, and points in the direction he came from. 

your smile widens. “knew it. i thought i always saw you around here. i checked your schedule and everything earlier. we both end class at the same time but i’m over at james hall.” you point across at the building directly opposite from the one yoongi’s class is held in, but yoongi is still too focused on, i was looking for yoongi - you were looking for him. him. not seokjin. 

“next time, let’s meet after class,” you’re saying, as you loop one arm against yoongi’s elbow, your other arm already around hoseok’s. “hobi, are you free?” 

“nope,” hoseok slips out from your side, adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. “i’ve got class in ten.” 

you shrug. “just me and yoongi then,” your hand remains wrapped around his elbow, and yoongi’s fingers curl inside his pocket, fighting the desire to slide his hand out and into yours. “unless you have plans, yoongs?” 

yoongs. yoongi blinks. jinniejin, jooniejoon, hobi. yoongs. 

you ditched seokjin for yoongi (you were looking for yoongi in the first place!), you have your hand on his arm, and yoongs. he finally gets a nickname. 

when he takes too long to answer, hoseok fills in the gap for him before you can get too confused. “he never has plans,” hoseok grins. “i’ll catch y’all later.” he gives yoongi a look that says get your brain back in working order before he heads off, and you look up at yoongi, eyes sparkling, enrapturing. 

“have you eaten, yoongi?” 

technically he has. right before class. but it was small and light and that seems reasonable enough an excuse for him to shake his head, just so he can watch you beam at him and tug him along, rattling off about the new restaurant near the student center that you wanted to try, and when you say something along the lines of, “i’m glad i get to try it with you,” yoongi forgets seokjin was even in the picture to begin with, content simply to be trying new things and spending time with you. 

series masterlist ; neon signs

taglist ; @thelilbutifulthings​ @bbsantc​ @chickentenderx​