#advanced way. not like i'm never going to grow up and write it fast anyway hello?

[gnaga37]

actually deciding to change how you write letters and numbers is very easy and fun <3

[storiesundercandlelight]

First of all, I’m unbelievably grateful for your content! I recently stumbled upon the Vampyr content and read your work. I love each and every one of your writings, damn you’re good.

I actually bought the game a couple days ago thanks to that, so I appreciate you for keeping my self indulgent mind active in the fandom.

If possible, may I request some Jonathan Reid x Fem reader? My heart melts reading your NSFW!

No specifics, maybe something that you enjoy writing and that makes you happy too? Thank you in advance. Hope you have a wonderful day! 🤍

Ahhh I am so happy to read this!!! Oh I could cry!

I hope this is what you were looking for!

Warnings: NSFW +18, p in V, cunnilingus, mentions of blood, drinking blood, biting.

Jonathan entered the room quietly, the fireplace crackling, the warm glow flickering over the living room he knew so well, his eyes quickly landed on you, sprawled across the floor in front of the flames, a pile of blankets and cushions around you, a book in hand. You hadn't noticed him yet, why would you, so lost in your fictional world. It made Jonathan smile, something he was sure he wouldn't do again so fully since beginning his new life as a vampire.

Until you came into his life, someone he could never have expected.

"Are you going to remain in the doorway all night my love?" Your voice gently reached his ears, not even turning your head from your book, but now a small smile pulled at your lips.

"You heard me?"

"Sensed you I think is more accurate, like how I would imagine a gazelle feels when it knows a lion is watching it"

Jonathan moved across the room, so rapidly fast you lost him for a second before your book was pushed from your hands and your back was pressed against the floor, Jonathans tall frame leaning over you.

"A lion? Is he hungry?" Jonathan smiled before stealing a quick kiss from you.

"Always I'm sure" You smiled back, hands instinctively brushing a stray hair back from Jonathans forehead, your fingers tracing along the side of his face. "Will he enjoy his feast?"

"If his prey allows him to"

"I'm fairly certain she will" You smiled fully at each other now, laughing quietly at your silliness, before Jonathan leant further down for another kiss. You were warm thanks to the fire glowing beside you, your skin like fire against Jonathans cold hands, he always felt a brief sense of guilt when he touched you with such coldness. But you never complained, always pulling him closer to you.

When the kiss turned hungrier Jonathan was able to delight in the small moan you let slip out in between kisses, the way your arms wrapped tighter around him, keeping him pinned to you, not that he would have wanted to move away.

It was so easy in moments like this to forget, to forget about the last few months, the man he'd become. So easy it was to get swept up in the feeling of being pressed to you, your lips dancing a long perfected dance against each other. The growing excitement was almost unbearable, the need to rush almost too tempting.

A gasp, your body tensing beneath Jonathan's grip and then the metallic taste of blood. Jonathan pulled back his eyes snapping down to your lower lip where he could see the damage, his fang.

"Poor lion seems to be a little too excited" You said kindly, lifting your hand to your lip, pressing against it gently.

"I'm sorry, I got carried away-"

"Stop apologising, it's not that bad" Truth be told, Jonathan tasting your blood wasn't new, you'd allowed him to do it on more than one occasion, once he'd finally agreed to anyway. He hadn't trusted himself at first, anxiety shooting through him the first time you had asked, horrified at the idea of hurting you.

But control was something Jonathan was good at...usually. So eventually you had managed to coax him into trying it, not too often, you always took enough time to recover before letting him do it again.

The touch of your fingers on the side of his face brought Jonathan's thoughts back to the present, your eyes watching him, waiting for him to say or do something he realised. "Do you want to stop?"

"Absolutely not, you dare and I'll skin you for a rug" Jonathan couldn't help laugh at your eagerness, your quick humour something he'd fallen in love with quickly. "Although, perhaps the next one could be somewhere a little more discreet?" As much as he didn't want to let on how much the idea of bitting into you excited him, it didn't fail to send a shiver up his spine at the thought.

Letting out a contemplative hum Jonathan leant back down, lower this time so his lips could ghost along the length of your neck, down to your collarbones, his hands brushing along the silk slip you were wearing. He let his teeth graze along the skin above your breast, not hard enough to do any damage but certainly enough to have you anticipating the delicious bite.

A small part of you felt that you should be embarrassed at the idea of what you let Jonathan do, the first time had instilled a deep sense of fear that you would feel such pain. But pain never came, not really, the initial shock of his teeth, the burn of your flesh giving way, then something else entirely. Like a thread snapping you weren't fully expecting the pleasure it had brought you.

"Here?" Jonathan's voice was low, deep with lust as he dragged his mouth over the top of your breast. Then in an instant his mouth was gone, his hands pushing your slip higher to reveal the top of your thighs, his hand lifting your leg just enough so that there his mouth touched you again. "Or here perhaps?"

"You know where I want it" Jonathans eyes met yours, letting your leg drop gently he looked over you.

"Someone might see it"

"I'll wear a scarf" He knew the look in your eyes well enough by now to know there was no fighting you on this, not that he would have tried very hard to. Nonetheless he wasn't done with you just yet. Jonathan rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, the waistcoat already unbuttoned thanks to your wandering hands, his hair falling from its usually neat style. You were hard pressed to pull your eyes away from him when he looked like this.

Leaning down again Jonathan braced himself on his elbows while pulling you closer to him. You barely had a moment to register what he was doing before his tongue licked a straight line along your heat.

"Oh you're such a tease" You moaned, smiling as you let your head fall back.

"You promised me a feast did you not?" Jonathan didn't wait for a reply before going back to his task, assaulting you with his tongue, occasionally kissing you there. He always revealed in the noises he was able to pull from you when doing this, the way your body tensed and arched against the floor as he continued to work you tighter and tighter into a knot. It was only when the second please fell from your lips that he pulled away from you, leaning back up quickly to remove the rest of his own clothing as you pushed your slip from your body.

When you came together again the patience Jonathan had once had was quickly disappearing, placing himself between your legs Jonathan leant down to kiss you one last time before pushing into you, watching as you arched into him, a gasp leaving your lips, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his shoulders as he began moving.

God he loved this, being so close to you, feeling you, hearing the quiet praise that fell from you as he moved. It was something he was sure he would never have in this new life, so sure he would remain alone for the rest of his days. To feel all of these things made him feel more alive than he was sure he was allowed to feel.

"Jonathan" your voice was barely above a whisper as you moved against him, meeting his hips as often as you could, your eyes drifting closed, lips parted as your soft moans met his own. You felt Jonathans lips at your neck, a shiver running over you in anticipation, his lips pressing against the skin of your neck, kissing gently.

It didn't take long before you felt the tips of his fangs press against your skin, a brief moment of hesitation from Jonathan before he let them sink in. A moan from you much louder filling the air as he felt his mouth fill with the warmth of your blood. Everything was so much more intense during these moments, every thrust of his hips sent you spiralling towards your climax, the taste of you on his tongue driving Jonathan half mad with desire, his pace only quickening now, his moans rough against your neck.

The dull ache of Jonathans teeth in you was nothing in comparison to the pleasure you felt, so close, it surprised you both when Jonathan pulled away suddenly, finishing first with a low moan, warmth filling you. The sight of him coming undone was enough to push you over the edge with him, Jonathan's hips never faltering as he continued to thrust into you through both of your orgasms.

Jonathan waited a moment for you to stop tensing, your body relaxing lazily against the blankets beneath you, before he pulled away from you. He moved too fast from the room for you to watch him leave, the crackling fire drawing your attention for the few moments Jonathan was gone from the room.

When he returned it was with two warm cloths and a small pouch, one cloth for you and the other for your neck which he instantly set about to cleaning up and covering with bandage from the pouch. You smiled gently at the man above you, so carefully trying to fix what he had done, a look of guilt washing over his features.

"Don't look so guilty, you enjoyed it just as much as I did"

"Enjoying it doesn't change the fact that I'm hurting you"

"It doesn't hurt, more like a bruise than anything major" You leant up to place a kiss on Jonathan's cheek trying to soothe the guilt your lover was clearly battling with. "Besides, I'm fairly confident lions don't feel guilt when they hunt the gazelle" you smiled trying to reawaken your earlier joke.

Jonathan smiled back at you, although not as fully as you would have liked. He knew you hated when he did this, showed guilt and sorrow for something you had both agreed to, but knowing the marks would be there for so many days, the scars it would eventually leave given how many times you did this, it was hard not to feel a small ounce of shame. "You'll let me redress it again later?"

"Of course Doctor"

"Hmm" Smiling again and satisfied for now Jonathan pulled you to him as he laid down against the scattered cushions, holding you close to him as the flames made shadows dance over your skin. At least he could relish the feeling of being content, wrapped up with you in the safety of his home.

The harsh world outside far away from his mind as Jonathan focused on the one thing he'd been so lucky to have found since returning to London: you.

[uenodivision]

ARB Birthday Special 2024: Kisouna Yuzairu

~~ May 1st ~~

"Know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the outcome of a hundred battles."

Login Lines:

"...Hmm? Why are all my appointments for today suddenly displayed as 'Canceled'? Canceled for what reason?"

"'Canceled on account of my birthday'? ...Oh. Yes, today is my birthday, isn't it? I wrote that reminder months in advance and forgot about it. ...Huh."

Voice Lines:

"32 years of age. It's hard to believe just how much time has flown by. Not that I'm disappointed, of course. I'm grateful for these years I've had, even if they have just seemed to fly right by."

"My daughter, Yomi, was happy that I didn't forget my birthday this year. Granted, there is really no excuse for forgetting. After all, if my own child can remember both hers and mine, then I should endeavor to do the same."

"My sister called to wish me a happy birthday. It's good to hear from her now and then. Her life as a married woman is also going well, though she complains that it isn't much different from her normal life. Ha, she's got a lot to learn and a lot to look forward to..."

"Saito, my husband, it's me again. I'm sorry I haven't been by to visit you much. Things are going well down here, for the most part. You should see our daughter. Yomi's growing up so fast, that I can scarcely believe it. I wish you were here to see her now. ...I wish... I wish you were here, period. ...I miss you so much..."

"Aranai. Great. And this day was going so well. ...DO NOT call me that. I told you a million times before that I would never wish to be considered your 'Aunt'. *Sighs* And I suppose you'll continue to call me that no matter what, correct? ...Fine, do as you wish. I know it would be a waste of time to try to convince you, otherwise."

"So, is there a reason you are bothering me? ...A gift? *Sighs* Very well, what is it? ...A coffee mug? Oh, wait. I think I've seen these in the store. They keep your mug warm for you, correct? I see. Well, thank you very much, Aranai. I appreciate it. ...Yes, I suspected as much. But again, thank you."

"Hello, Shisuta. ...Thank you. I really appreciate it. ...Yes, I made sure to remind myself that today was my birthday since I didn't want a repeat of last year. Thanks for the reminder, by the way. ...Thank you, Shisuta. That means a lot. I value you as a friend, as well. And I know Yomi appreciates you too."

"And you brought me a gift as well? Truly Shisuta, you are a fortunate friend. ...A journal? ...Ah, a prayer journal. ...I suppose I should keep a book for my personal thoughts, shouldn't I? ...Yes, you are right. Thank you, Shisuta. I will put this to good use."

Aranai Lines:

"What up, Boss Lady? Happy birthday to you! ...Aww, thanks Auntie! Good to see you too. ...Yeah, well, too bad! Consider it a permeant nickname, along with Boss Lady. ...You can try to convince me, but I wouldn't hold my breathe if I were you. ...Glad to see you coming to your senses, 'Auntie.'"

"Anyway, with that over with, here's your birthday present. ...Yes, it's a coffee mug, but not just any mug. It's an Ember Temperature Control Smart Mug that you can control with your phone to heat up your coffee or your tea, or whatever. ...Glad you like it, Boss Lady. You'd better use it! It wasn't cheap! ...No problem, Auntie."

Shisuta Lines:

"A most joyous of birthdays to you, Kisouna-san. ...I'm glad that you remembered that today was your birthday. I've a feeling that you would have been cross with yourself had you forgotten again like last year. But truthfully, I am glad you remembered, for both yours and Yomi's sake. ...I value you as a friend, and I'd not wish my friend to partake in their day of birth. ...Thank you, Kisouna."

"Well now, allow me to present you with your birthday gift. ...Yes, it's a journal, but not an ordinary one. Look at the back. ...Yes, I feel that with a job like yours, having a journal to write down your thoughts, as well as meditate on the Word, would be very useful. ...I am glad. Please make good use of it, Kisouna-san. And again, happy birthday."

[brainslikeme]

Intro to this

Hello,

I have never written a "blog" before or even post something that will have my opinion out on the internet but I have some free time and would like to write. Now bare with me because I was never good in English class or even one to read a lot. So for everyone who has perfect grammar I apologize in advance. I have named this account brains like me mainly because it was one of the only names left for me to choose but also because of what I wanted to write about. If I had just one word to describe myself it would probably be different. Now if you know me then maybe you are reading this and thinking that me being different is full of it but in reality the person who you are when you are with people and who you are by yourself are very different. Very different. When I am hanging out with friends or family I am outgoing, I am talkative, involved and just in general friendly. When I am by myself it is completely different. Granted, normal people don't talk when they are by themselves but this is different. Im shut down, my brain is everywhere. Wether it's thinking about one thing extensively or 100 things extensively my brain is always thinking about something. I don't communicate feelings but truly sometimes I just don't feel feelings. Does that make sense? Writing that doesn't make sense but when I think about it, it does. Now I'm not going to share information about my personal life to explain it but Im sure most of you guys reading this will understand this. Anyways, to myself and how many times I have been told that I can be multiple people at times I feel like I have a complex brain, I have a complex way of thinking of thoughts, feelings, emotions and more. A little bit about myself for context, Growing up my parents were divorced. I have 3 brothers and by no means am I "wealthy". As a lot of kids I grew up having to struggle for some things. My power went out a couple times due to money, we had to store water incase out water got turned off from the city, we bought fast food for our meals because it was easier to afford that than buying groceries. To make that makes sense if we spent 40 dollars a week on meals it was to my mom cheaper to do that rather than drop 250 on groceries for the month. Being an adult now I understand that is completely wrong and we wasted so much money but its just how it is. Up to 18 years old I never ate 3 meals a day, It was usually one or two and it was 90 percent of the time fast food. I played baseball my whole life but was by no means healthy. I vaped, I never drank water, I was terrible in school and I would get sick so often I thought my career was going to be a test subject for diseases. When I moved out I started getting my act together. I began to read, began to eat 3 meals a day that we're healthy, meditated, worked out and learned how to be better. Now by no means am I close to perfect but I think apart of trying to be perfect is starting to be better. So I'm trying. To essentially shorten this down for just in intro on the blog I wanted to release topics or events that happen to either myself or even the world that hopefully Im not the only one who thinks the same about it. Even if its not an opinion you agree with I think its an opinion worth sharing, right? Isn't that what life is about nowadays? Opinions? If you are reading this far I want to thank you, thank you for listening to what my brain is processing this moment. Who knows maybe I post every week or never post again. I don't communicate well, and for me I believe doing this will relieve some stress or thoughts that even for myself I don't need to release.I believe I need to release. Ive struggled with emotions my whole life so who knows, maybe this is a first step to being better.

Thanks,

[starsmuserainbow]

HOW I RUN MY BLOG/S.

speed. I do my best to answer at a fast time, although in the recent times it has turned into like a week reply-time, at times. I can do faster sometimes too, but before a week, there's no need to check if I got it (unless your reply isn't listed when I do my "to-owe" list).

replies. I more or less do them in the order that I get them back. I try to make it so I always write one thing on Star here, and one from any of my sideblogs in alternating, though, because recently I just had too many Star things and way too few things anywhere else going on. As of writing this, I have more things for my sideblogs that I "owe" than things on Star, but I'll probably still try to stick to this alternating of replies, for now. Also, when it comes to be that both replies (one from the sideblogs, and one from here) would be from the same person, I often change the order to pick something else into today's mix, because I feel like alternating it a little is better.

I usually operate my posting of replies without a queue, I just post something usually on the day that I finished writing it (that is, as long as I have 2 replies done). I'd say something about length too, but outside of that I simply can't do one-liners, I'm fine with pretty much any length I think.

starters. I have some open starters on each of my blogs, if that is what this point is about. Most of my open starters never get replies or not continued long though, so I kinda am doing new ones less and less these days. Writing starters for others, usually only happens after I make a call or if we discuss something. I'm more likely to send things than to write a starter out of nowhere, and I'm very very bad at sending things so that speaks volumes about just how rare it is that I'd write a starter without you knowing so beforehand.

inbox. I admit I had to delete some things from the inbox recently. I still welcome any and all asks though, be they random or from memes or whatever, anon or not. I'm sorry in advance if I will end up deleting your thing though - when you didn't send it on anon though, I'll usually message you that I have to delete the thing and/or why I have to.

honest note. I've said it before, I'm kinda struggling with Starfire at the moment. I feel like ever since I did a few things (reblog memes on here less often, keep my alternating of replies, try to be more approaching of others with the suggestion of my sideblogs) to "fix it", it's become better; I think it's just a matter of oversaturation of Star things and me growing grumpy over the fact that my other muses get neglected. I know that that's no one's fault really, I wouldn't want any of you to force interactions with characters of mine that you may not be interested in, but it still is a feeling I have. That said, here's a link to that overview of my blogs, if you do have interest I'd appreciate knowing that (by telling me, or simply, like, following that sideblog of mine or sth), and if not, that's okay too. I should've done a mainblog-multi instead of all these sideblogs, anyway.

Another thing I maybe should admit to, I do tend to default to the thought of "well they followed me first, so they should do the first step (aka sending sth in, IMing, whatever)" where it's applicable - I shouldn't think that way and I do what I can to ignore that thought and at times try to actively reach out ("do the first step") to counter thinking that way, but, I figured it's probably something I should mention.

Outside of this, I don't really know what to say.

I'm very thankful to have the wonderful amazing RP-partners that I have, and I look forward to having more fun with y'all.

[taechaos]

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing. 

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it. 

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you. 

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back. 

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look.  “How long was the interaction anyway?” 

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything. 

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question. 

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?  

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur. 

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor. 

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm. 

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts. 

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

[poisonouswritings]

Hiii!! I hope you're having a great day or night!

I just love your writing it's great!

I have a request for Felix <<

How would Felix interact with an MC who really cares about the environment and is very environmentally conscious? I think it'd be interesting to see him fall for someone who really cares about the environment and animals. I don't really think he'd be very environmentally aware about what's going on in the world mainly because of how he grew up. And MC would definitely open his eyes and make him see everything T-T

TYSM in advance!!! I hope this made sense I really suck at putting my ideas into words,, have a good day!

Hi! Thank you so much for the kinds words :3 and I hope you’re having a great [insert appropriate time of day here]! Hopefully this is what you’re looking for.  

GN!reader, fluff, Felix learns some stuff

Okay firstly I wanna say I feel like Florian is where this all starts.

Felix is aware that you and his papa like hanging out, having tea, gardening, doing whatever. And he's glad for that! He loves his dad and it makes him really happy that you two get along so well!

But he's a little pouty jealous man.

So one day it's been,, a couple of hours since he's seen you. He's been filling the time with studies and spells but he needs a cuddle for encouragement a partner for some experiments. So he goes down to the garden only to see you and Florian talking animatedly about something. For a long moment he just watches you - the way your eyes light up, the passion in your movements - and he knows whatever it is you're talking about, he's agreeing with you no hesitation. He takes a second to collect himself and walks over.

'Hello, MC-' 'Felix can you use necromancy magic on bees?? Because I'm gonna go feral if they all die.'

.....?

I feel like Florian probably tried to teach the kids about environmental stuff but,, Escell wasn't even remotely helpful and the kids got busy with their own areas of study so it never really stuck.

But! Now!! You're here!!! And you will teach him damnit!!!!

To be honest,, what does pollution look like in Astraea? I don't think there's industrial factories or high-powered machinery, so there wouldn't be a bunch of chemical smoke or dumping in the water or mass deforestation or anything, right? I'm not sure. I think there would be a decent amount of animal trapping/hunting, maybe the endangerment of certain animal species or plant species.

D'you think Felix uses live animals in his spells? I can't imagine it. But I do think he would use rare plants in potions and whatever. MC is gonna beat him up immediately put a stop to that. Probably encourages him to try growing some himself instead of ripping out roots from the wild. Especially because - while I don't think Felix is being intentionally hazardous or anything - he probably damages a lot of other plants in the process. Especially because I feel like he doesn't really like getting dirty and would use magic to rip the roots out? And would end up ripping out some other ones too.

Make! Felix!! Compost!!! Make him touch worms!!!! And bugs in general honestly!!! He,, lets it happen,, it's not his favorite thing in the world but when he sees how passionate MC is about it, by gods he'll do it.

Felix starts researching spells on things like water/air purification, fast decomposition for things in the compost, etc. Teaches MC whatever spells they might wanna know, or helps them research stuff.

I think MC would like to help in animal conservation! Especially considering all the magic animals. Felix would probably help them build little habitats or whatever.

Does,, does Astraea have plastic? I don't know! Single-use plastics somehow come into the equation and MC is just pacing around the bedroom venting in fury while Felix listens. I don’t think he entirely understands everything you’re saying but he starts pulling out spellbooks to find a solution anyways. 

Nature dates? Walking through the forest? Felix, who has always appreciated the beauty of death, learning to appreciate the beauty of nature and life? 

A e s t h e t i c 

[booksanxietyandsports]

Stephan Leyhe/Andreas Wellinger - "You should get dressed, Andi." (fic)

remember when I reblogged those lellinger gifs from klingenthal last weekend and tagged them "someone write a fic"? it's me. i'm someone. i wrote the fic. which i haven't done in years so i'm sorry in advance. enjoy?

“This is not going to work in the second round. What’s up with the inrun today anyway?” Andreas complains as he makes his way into the container, shaking his head to get some of the very wet, very cold snow-rain mix out of his hair. “I swear one of the Norwegians sold their soul for them to do that well today. This is impossible.”

Stephan, with his back turned to his younger friend and currently in the middle of gathering his things to prepare for the second round, chuckles. “It’s not that bad,” he says, “seriously. Wisla was way worse.” Andi turns to his teammate with a deadpan expression on his face. “Sorry, did we jump on different hills?” He takes off his bib and unzips his suit down to the hips. “Had I been going any slower I would’ve gone backwards up the ramp.” He drops his stuff in a free corner and starts looking for the nearest towel to dry his damp hair with. Did Pius put them all away again? Neat freak. Generally, Andi appreciated his teammate’s cleanliness, but with the very limited time between the first and second jump, it was faster to find things when they were just lying around in the open. Not a single towel in sight except for the one hanging around Stephan’s neck, he quickly glances around the container, finding it empty save for Stephan, and takes a step closer to his friend.

Why, he doesn’t know. He could’ve just asked.

Stephan, oddly, goes very still as Andi tugs at the towel, then turns around to face him. The taller tilts his head in question. Stephan’s face goes weirdly blank. The silence grows longer; no confirmation of any kind coming from the older that he could use the towel. Andi frowns. Usually they do stuff like this all the time, communicating without verbally saying anything. A nod here, a brush of fingertips there. Markus calls it telepathy. Karl calls it scary.

Stephan slowly raises an eyebrow.

Standing this close to his teammate, Andi suddenly feels like he missed something.  What he does not miss, however, is the way the zipper on Stephan’s tight black undershirt is halfway down. He also definitely doesn’t miss how that exposes Stephan’s smooth, long neck. And absolutely un-missable is his own hand still gripping the corner of Stephan’s towel, which brings it very close to the neck in question.

Idly, Andi wonders how far he could wrap it around.

“Andreas. Words. Use them.”

Andi’s eyes snap up to meet Stephan’s. This is new. Stephan rarely uses his full name, if ever. Stephan also very rarely has to tell him to speak. Most of the time it’s the exact opposite, Stephan telling him to shut up for once, and Andi making sure Stephan had his turn in a conversation whenever he became too quiet. Andi prides himself in being social, quick to read any room, any situation.

With four little words, however, the balance between them had shifted too fast for him to catch on. It leaves him breathless.

Stephan still seems to be waiting, arms crossed.

“May I, uh,” Andi starts, stops, then tries again. “Towel?” Very eloquent, yes. Nailed it.

Stephan fights back a smile. Andi wishes he wouldn’t. Stephan’s smile was in the top five of things that should never be fought back. The older starts to unwrap the towel from his own shoulders, still maintaining eye contact. Andi tries not to exhale too obviously. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d been holding his breath.

The moment the younger tries to finally take the towel, Stephan seems to think better of it and holds on tight. The smile has won, apparently, and Stephan’s in a good mood despite the disastrous first round. Which is probably the reason why he says-

“Ask me for it. Nicely.”

Andi stops dead in his tracks. “I- what?”

Stephan’s gentle smile lights up his face in full force. They’re still holding the towel between them. “I haven’t heard you say please, darling. That’s not very polite, is it?”

Oh.

Oh.

The pet name sends a weird shiver down Andi’s spine. This also hasn’t happened before. Nicknames, yes. Andi, Welle, Welli. Everyone calls him those. Kamil had taken a liking to calling him sunshine sometimes when he’s teasing. But darling? This is territory Andi doesn’t know how to navigate, even though he knows Stephan. Inside and out. Or so he thought.

His shock, uncertainty and maybe something akin to fascination must have been showing in a confusing mix on his face, because Stephan’s smile begins to dim. The older’s grip on the towel starts to loosen as he averts his eyes, taking tremendous interest in the little puddle of water at their feet. “Sorry,” he laughs awkwardly, “I don’t even, uh- here, here’s uh, the towel. For your hair.” Stephan pushes the towel into Andi’s hands, who’s standing there like a brick wall. Stephan manages some kind of hesitant half-smile, then takes a small step back and continues getting ready for the second round. Zipping up his undershirt, putting his bib back on. The usual things you do between rounds. Routine.

As soon as Stephan stepped out of his physical space, Andi realized just how close they’d been standing together. It wasn’t a secret that he thrived off physical contact, which is why he mostly could be found latched onto whichever teammate was currently available. Andi needed human touch as much as air to breathe, but this… this had probably been a lot closer than what was considered acceptable between friends. With a lot more weird tension than he was used to.

The space now feels too big. Andi wants Stephan back. Closer. Which meant-

“Will you dry my hair?” What?

“What?” Stephan asks, then almost drops his helmet. “What?”

“Dry my hair for me. Please?” Andi holds out the towel for Stephan to take back. To his surprise, Stephan immediately put down his helmet, takes the towel from Andi’s hands and gestures for him to sit on the rusty folding chair they keep in the container, mostly to strap Markus to it to prevent him from throwing something against the wall sometimes.

Andi sits, a warm feeling in his chest.

Stephan places himself right behind him, close enough for Andi to lean back against. He then begins to work the towel gently through Andi’s thick hair, not rubbing too hard, being mindful of his locks and his scalp and his face. It’s nice and Andi can feel himself relax. He rests his head back against Stephan’s stomach and closes his eyes. “All done,” Stephan says quietly after a while, but before Andi can attempt to come back from the blissful trance Stephan’s petting has put him in, there’s a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing lightly.

A sudden, violent shiver runs through Andi’s whole body and to his own mortification, he lets out a quiet whimper. Instantly, he shoots up from the chair and whirls around to face Stephan, who’s looking at him with wide eyes, now damp towel still in his hands. Andi runs a hand through his already messed up hair and clears his throat. “I don’t, uh, know what that was. Sorry. What are we do-“

A jolt goes through Stephan’s body. He wraps the towel around Andi’s neck, uses the ends to tug him closer, and then they’re kissing.

Wait, what?

Andi catches himself with one hand on the chair and one hand on Stephan’s chest. Immediately, he pushes the stupid chair out of the way because all of a sudden, they can’t be close enough.  The space between them from earlier feels impossibly big, now that Stephan has abandoned the ends of the towel to cup Andi’s face between his hands. With the chair out of the way, Andi uses his now free hand to grab onto Stephan’s ridiculously tiny waist and pull him even closer. The kiss deepens, Stephan angling up his face ever so slightly to make up for the few inches of height difference between them.

Andi is completely out of his depths.

He has never done this before. Made out with people yes, sure, even when he wasn’t supposed to, but never at a competition. Never a fellow ski jumper. Never a teammate. Never someone as special as Stephan.

They’re desperate now, adrenaline level still somewhat high in preparation for the next jump, and their movements are getting frantic. Stephan, contrary to Andi, seems to know exactly what he’s doing. He catches the younger’s lower lip between his teeth and tugs lightly while simultaneously starting to unzip Andi’s tight undershirt, fingertips brushing against his bare throat.

If he keeps that up, Andi might not make it to the second round. His fingers tighten on Stephan’s waist, probably hard enough to leave a bruise, but he can’t bring himself to care. Stephan certainly doesn’t seem to mind. Their lips meet again and again and again until they both run out of breath. Stephan pushes Andi’s undershirt to the side, partly exposing his shoulder. It’s cold in Klingenthal but he doesn’t notice, his whole body’s on fire. It’s more exhilarating than every jump Andi has ever made; heart going faster than he thought it possible.

Ski Flying is an extreme sport, but no 240 meter jump could ever come close to the feeling of Stephan’s lips on his; lithe body between his hands.

Stephan finally breaks the kiss, breathing heavily. Whatever he finds on Andi’s face seems to worry him. He frowns, hands returning to the back of Andi’s neck, a solid pressure to keep him from drifting away. “Andi, darling? You with me?” Stephan asks, pretty eyes betraying his calm demeanor. Tell me it’s okay, they said. Tell me you liked this, and you don’t regret it, and that whatever it was and wherever it came from, it was amazing, and it doesn’t change anything.

“That was. Uh. You can call me that more often. If you want,” is what comes out after a long time of trying to remember where he is. Andi isn’t used to words failing him. He always has something to say, but nothing could’ve prepared him for this.

Stephan’s previous uncertainty seems to evaporate into thin air at his words and the beautiful smile takes over his face again. He strokes Andi’s cheek, then steps away to give him some space. “That I can do, I think. You ready for the second round?” He turns around, directing his attention towards his skis, checking to see if he’s all ready to go.

Right. The competition. This is still the world cup, they still have one more jump to make. This, Andi realizes, is also still Stephan. His teammate and best friend and- nothing changed. This isn’t a mind-blowing situation. It’s really just how he’s always felt. He’s always known Stephan was special.

Looking at the older’s back, Andi can’t help but laugh. He shakes his head, pressing his hands to his eyes. “Was this okay, then? Have I been good?” Only after he said the words out loud does Andi realize how they sound. He also realizes he desperately needs to hear Stephan tell him that he was. Good. Which he does.

“You were, Andi. Very good.” Stephan looks back over his shoulder and smiles, eyes going all soft the way they always do. “So good for me.”

Andi’s knees go weak and he has to grab the chair for support. Is this a thing now? Getting praise for something other than a good jump?

Stephan’s smile turns into a smirk, which he quickly hides as he turns around again to grab Andi’s bib. He walks towards the taller, and Andi forgets how to move. Stephan slowly looks him up and down, eyes lingering on his still exposed shoulder and neck. They’ve seen each other with a lot less clothes on, but somehow this feels different. More significant. Stephan was looking at him as if he’s seeing him for the first time. He puts Andi’s bib around his neck in a nerve-wrecking imitation of their earlier position with the towel, and for a split second Andi thinks, or hopes, Stephan will pull him in again. The older gazes up and catches Andi’s eyes, who really hasn’t looked at anything else except Stephan’s face the past ten minutes, then pats his shoulder. “You should get dressed, Andi. We’re already late. Put on your clothes.” Stephan has the absolute audacity to wink before putting on his helmet and mask.

Andi huffed. “You took them off me in the first place! Now wait, let’s go up together, let me just-“ He puts on his mask and helmet in a hurry, not bothering to zip up his undershirt or his suit and grabs his stuff, the bib still hanging around his neck. Stephan, looking far too collected and ready to go, leans towards him.

“Tell you what, darling: I don’t plan on leaving them on you for too long.”

Their eye contact is brief, but Andi can tell from Stephan’s eyes that he’s smiling under the mask. Stephan starts walking towards the lift and leaves Andi to hurry after him, though he does wait for the younger to enter the lift first. Like a gentleman. Not like he just made out with Andi in the container and then told him he was good.

The other jumpers watch curiously as Andi starts getting dressed in the elevator.

Stephan’s eyes still betray his quiet smile. The others don’t notice.

Andi does.

[huntertheblackwolf]

For the amazing and creative @snarkyship !! 💞

So, I'm not really a good writer, cause I haven't been writing since 6 (or more?) months ago, so yeah, but! @snarkyship comic really inspired me to write this out, cause I'll be frank.... that comic was just so 😩💋

So fabulously made! Anyways, I'm rambling, so here you go!!

This is 1k, holy shit! This also might have some spelling and grammar mistakes, sorry!🤧

<>

"Thor! Thor! Thor, sto-" Loki shouted, shielding himself in time as Thor swung his sword down.

Grunting, Loki lifted the shield and tried to take Thor by surprise, but was foiled as Thor lifted his sword and bulldozed through his protection. With a jab and shove, Thor threw Loki to the dirt floor, and bellowed out his victory.

Loki hissed and threw his wooden shield and sword, cradling his bruised shoulder, trying to hold his venom in from being defeated again without using his seiðr. Thor, finally having stopped hollering, walked towards his brother and held out his hand. As Loki grabbed his forearm to bring himself up, Thor began to speak.

"Come now brother! Let's go again! But this time, with these wooden mallets! We'll have to get used to the weight and-".

"By the Norns brother, calm yourself." Loki chuckled as the bruises started to heal. Even though he was amused by the excitement of his brother, he still felt bitter about being throw down, not feeling comfortable by the weight of the sword. Still feeling lesser, still feeling so weak deep down. Still chuckling, Loki walked towards the weapons rack.

"Alright brother. But just one more match. You promised to leave me to my books for an entire two weeks if I practiced with you. Remember?" Picked up the mallet, Loki's grip quivered with the weight and size of it. Thor grinned brightly as he walked towards his brother and grabbed a mallet as well, having a stable and firm grip, never once wavering from his stance.

'Will I ever find a weapon worth of me?' Loki thought as his brother was fast to lay upon him with a bang of his mallet, quickly overwhelming Loki. With a grunt, Loki speedily tried to keep up with his brother, trying in vain to lift his mallet.

'I just need to keep up!' Loki mentally strained as his brother swung his mallet towards him.

------------------------------------‐---------------------------------

Underneath the gardens' shadows, the AllMother looked towards her two fighting children. Resting her head, Frigga sighed in concern as she looked towards her younger child who was struggling to keep up. Recalling all the weapons Loki used to fight with, she had a sudden revelation.

'Keeping up isn't the problem! These weapons are just too heavy for him. He would be able to handle the sword better if it was lighter. But wha-'. She started to smile and lightly hummed.

'So he does take after his mother after all.' Frigga recalled Farbauti keeping knives everywhere, and especially a dagger in her hair. With the way Farbauti always consistently kept a dagger on herself, Frigga smiled softly and remembered how Farbauti had gifted her some. Turning back towards the palace, Frigga started to lightly hum and continued on her way, unaware of the soft smile on her face or her heart eyes.

'I know I have them hidden somewhere.'

------------------------------------‐---------------------------------

Wearily, looking towards the yard, Loki felt detached, aloof even.

'I never should've allowed Thor to convince me to practice with him. For the love of Norns, if I can't keep up with Thor, what will happen to me? What would father think? Most importantly, what would mother think? I couldn't even lift the shield up on time! Without my seiðr, I'm defenseless, unless I can defend myself with a weapon, which of course I can't even seem to do! I need to keep practicing and stop being so weak! Especially in the circumstances of getting hit by Thor. Again!'

Feeling his wounds twinge, he stopped thinking and tried to calmly take a deep breath.

Which failed as he was startled from an object appearing out of nowhere.

On top of the ledge, near him, a flat rectangular box appeared before him. A note was placed on top of it and seeing the message, Loki quickly calmed down seeing it as a gift from his mother. Grabbing the note, he slowly lifted the lid and starred inside in amazement.

Inside were beautifully crafted knives, well taken care of, as though they were in their prime condition. Taking one out, Loki started to smile, feeling it grow as the knife felt balanced in his hand. It almost felt like it was made for him. It felt like love was poured into each handle. They were perfect for him and finally fault like a weapon was finally and truly made for him.

'Thank you mother. Thank you.' Loki sighed out happily. He couldn't wait to practice with them and finally beat Thor in a fight. With a grin, he started to practice, too excited to do anything else.

'Thank you.' He gratefully said one more time.

------------------------------------‐--------------------------------

Walking towards her gardens, she heard loud metal clanks. Looking up, she spotted her two sons going against each other once again. This time; however, Loki was finally backing Thor up in a corner. Thors' shield was pinned with the knives Loki has thrown at or stabbed.

"Brother please! You've won, alright! I yield!" Thor shouted, his face beat red in exhaustion, already covered in small nicks and slashes. Even tired, he was having fun and felt pure happiness seeing his brother having fun too.

"Come now brother! You can't give up that easily." Loki gleefully remarked, a sinister grin appearing on his face as he wielded two throwing knives in his hand. Advancing on Thor, he finally felt like he was having fun.

Crossing her arms, Frigga smiled in satisfaction. Barely a week has passed and already her youngest has gotten the hang of swinging and balancing out the knives' movements. She even saw that he's been collecting even more knives. Humming, she left her two boys at it.

'Oh Farbauti. If only you could see our boy. He remains me so much of you! He's even growing a knife collection like you! I'll try to take him to meet you. Oh, how much I've miss you.' Nodding, Frigga started walking towards her gardens again, ignoring the shouts and laughter behind her, already making plans in visiting Farbauti.

[hawkbucks]

Okay, so I usually don't send this kind of asks or prompts, because I don't have any wishes - I'm happy with whatever I get. But if you're up for it, I'd really love some HEAVY Tony-centric angst. Ship or no ship, whatever you prefer more, and sad end - or if you're not comfortable with that not more than a hopeful end. I just want you to crush my heart and make me cry. A lot. If that's nothing you want to write, that's okay, I love your writing anyway! Thank you for all your hc's and fics! :)

HELLO, FIRST OF ALL, I AM SORRY FOR TAKING THIS LONG AND SECOND OF ALL, THANK YOU FOR BEING WILLING TO WAIT. 

I hope this quenches your thirst for angst! I’ll admit to not really? Writing angst that much? So I’m not sure how this holds up, but I hope it’s okay! 

Loosely inspired by canon.

As a child, Tony comes to the realization that he is not meant to be loved. 

His mother tries. Oh, God, she tries. She brushes his hair in the mornings, places bandages over his bloodied knees whenever he went to play out in the garden and inevitably fell due to an untied shoelace, but nothing--nothing--she does makes up for the way his father treats him, the way those barbed words wrapped themselves around his heart and lungs and squeeze until he could barely breathe. 

See, dear old dad makes sure that his dissatisfaction with Tony makes itself apparent at every turn. Tony isn’t smart enough, he isn’t quick enough, he isn’t careful enough, he isn’t tough enough. He cries too much, clings too tightly to his mother, spends more days reading about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table than brushing up on his advanced mathematics courses. 

“You're useless,” he remembers his father sneering, smelling faintly of alcohol and cigar smoke, while he desperately bites his lower lip to stifle his sobs as he picked up the remains of his toy car on the floor, “spending your time on those things instead of studying. I don’t see why Maria bothers. I certainly wouldn’t.” 

Clutching the scraps of metal to his chest, Tony runs out of the room as fast as his legs can carry him. He throws them in the trash, nearly retching up his entire lunch as he does so before going into his bedroom and curling up in his bed, buried under a ridiculous amount of blankets. He doesn’t know what to do to make his father happy short of running away and risking his life on the streets. 

He doesn’t know what to do to make his father love him. 

He keeps to himself at school. People don’t seek him out, and he doesn’t seek people out. He gets labelled as the “eccentric rich boy,” which is fine by him. 

Except there’s this other kid, James Rhodes, around 3 years older, that won’t stop trying to get him to come out of his shell. It probably helps that they’re roommates, otherwise Tony would be giving him a wide, wide berth. As in, making detours to the other side of the campus kind of wide. 

“C’mon.” Rhodes slides him a plate laden with a microwaved chocolate croissant. “Talk to me a little.” 

Tony eyes the plate. He hesitantly reaches forward, like he’s afraid that Rhodes is going to snatch it away from him at the last second, before bringing it towards himself. He nibbles at the edges of the pleasantly warm croissant. “Why do you care so much?” 

“Because you seem scared every time that I see you?” Rhodes answers. “Listen, Tony, you’re young. Younger than anyone else on this campus. I’m... worried, you know? You need someone looking out for you.” 

“I don’t need a babysitter.” 

“And I’m not trying to be one. I’m just saying that you’d be better off having someone who cares for you. I’m not going to swaddle you and put you in diapers.”

Tony wrinkles his nose. “You better not.” 

Rhodes smiles at him. Tony finds himself smiling back.

It’s nice, having someone with him at school. He and Rhodes--or Rhodey, as he now calls him--are basically attached at the hip. They do anything and everything they can together. Tony has almost forgotten how it’s like to be this happy. 

He tells Rhodey one day, tentatively excited, that he’s found this girl: Sunset Bain. She’s a brunette with hair all the way down to the middle of her back, she’s wicked smart with a rapier wit, and, most importantly, she doesn’t care that Tony’s a Stark. 

“Stop growing up so fast,” Rhodey complains. “It’s making me feel old.” 

“You’re 19.” 

“I feel old.” 

They go on dates--nice ones, but not expensive. 

He has his first kiss with her. It’s quick and chaste, but he liked it. She doesn’t push him to go further, and for that he’s glad. 

He holds her hand as they walk under the trees. 

As it turns out, Sunset did a little snooping in his stuff when he’s distracted and made off with Stark company secrets right after they celebrated their 6th month together. 

“Stupid boy,” his father snarls, slamming a hand down on his desk. Tony’s heard it all before, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. He doesn’t look up from the floor, hands clasped behind his back. 

Tony croaks, “I didn’t--”

“Didn’t what? Didn’t think she’d take advantage of you? Did you actually think she loved you?” 

Tony doesn’t respond. He doesn’t want to appear to be even more of an idiot, because, yes, he actually thought she loved him. She would whisper as much when they cuddled on the couch, anyway. 

“Unbelievable,” Howard mutters, taking Tony’s silence as confirmation of that fact. “Get out. I have to deal with this mess that you made.” 

Tony nods. “Yes, sir.” 

He leaves, each step heavy. Everything after that is a blur. All he knows is that he left that room and he ended up back in his dorm, face down on the floor, sobbing his eyes out with a half-empty bottle of Vodka lying next to him.  

His parents die at some point. Car accident.  

He sobs into his pillow. He wishes--

He wishes he was in the car, too. At least he’d be with his mother.

Rhodey has been his anchor through all of this. He lets Tony ruin his shirts with his tears and his snot. He brings Tony coffee and cupcakes whenever he thought he could use some cheering up. Hell, he even offers to TP Sunset’s house--a tempting offer if he didn’t know that Rhodey would end up arrested for doing so. 

Like most good things in his life, Rhodey ends up leaving to join the Air Force. Tony wishes he could be selfish enough to ask Rhodey to stay a little longer, but he doesn’t. 

He gives him a hug and a pat on the back, and Rhodey is gone.

Rhodey tries to contact him. He calls, sends letters, e-mails, but Tony doesn’t reply. 

He knows it’s self-sabotaging. He knows that it’ll end up ruining one of the rare positive relationships he’s ever had in his far too long-feeling life, but he doesn’t care.

He’s never deserved Rhodey’s love. 

Tony is unsure if he should feel the glad the morning he wakes up and doesn’t see a missed call from Rhodes sitting in his inbox. 

He drifts along in life. Stark Industries was handed over to Obadiah Stane, and Tony has no plans on taking it from him. 

He drinks, orders takeout, spends his days on his phone or laptop. He’s rich enough that he doesn’t ever have to lift a finger to work in his life. It’s a boring--if safe--life. 

Crossing the street one day, he literally runs into a guy: tall, broad shoulders, with pretty blond hair. He apologizes profusely, but the guy brushes it off, tugging him over to the other side when a car honks. “I’m Tiberius,” the guy says, holding a hand out.

Tony takes it. “I’m Tony.” 

He falls in love with Tiberius fast and hard. It’s like Sunset, but a million times more intense. There’s just... something about the man that makes adrenaline pump in Tony’s veins and gives him a high that he has to spend hours shaking off afterwards. 

Of course, he’s terrified. Rhodes isn’t going to be there if something goes wrong (and something usually does go wrong when he’s concerned). 

Then Tiberius kisses him right before he leaves Tony’s apartment, and he melts. 

“No one else could love you like I can, Tony,” Tiberius murmurs against his lips, the movie they were watching all but forgotten in the background. 

Tony hums. He wraps his arms around Tiberius’ neck and draws him closer. Tiberius loves him. Maybe all of his insecurities were wrong.

“Ty,” Tony says in his best soothing voice. “Leave him alone. He didn’t know.” Tiberius is weirdly territorial. He won’t let anyone near Tony, man or woman, young or old. 

“Like hell he didn’t.” Tiberius continues to glare at the trembling man in front of him. “I should knock his lights out.” 

“Don’t.” Tony grabs onto Tiberius’ bicep and starts to pull him away. “C’mon, let’s just leave. We’re going to miss our reservation.” 

Tiberius rips his arm from Tony’s hold. “Oh, so you’re siding with him? Maybe you should go on a date with him if you care about him that much!” He stomps away, leaving behind a scared, slightly frazzled Tony. 

“I’m sorry about him,” Tony says to the man next to him, trying his best to put on an assuring smile. “He can get riled up.” 

“It’s--it’s fine,” the man replies. “I should be the one apologizing to you. He’s... you’re going to be alright, right?” 

“Of course I am,” Tony replies, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The man looks at him with pity.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Tiberius says, arms around Tony’s waist, kissing his neck. “I just love you so much.” 

“Yeah.” Tony’s tone is empty. Tiberius has... well, he’s changed a lot. Tony thought that he was possessive before, but now he’s like a monster. All the woman did was wink at him and Tiberius yelled at her to the point where she was on the verge of tears. 

He still loves Tiberius, though. He thinks he does. He’s not too sure. Tiberius loves him, though. He knows that. 

Tiberius pauses. “Do you not love me anymore?” 

“What?” Tony places his hands on Tiberius’ shoulders. “I do!” 

“Why didn’t you say it back?” 

Tony swallows. “I was... distracted.” 

Tiberius narrows his eyes, gaze going steely. “Are you thinking about her?” 

“Ty--”

“You are, aren’t you?” 

“You’re being ridiculous--” 

Tiberius’ hand moves up to the back of Tony’s neck, and Tony feels the ice cold grip of fear in his stomach. “Who else is going to love you if not for me, Tony? I’m the only one who can put up with you.” 

Tony feels bile rise up the back of his throat. This isn’t healthy. This is far from it. 

But if this is the kind of love that he deserves, then he’ll take it. 

[thedogsled]

You seem to be having a not a great day today, so here's a light-hearted ask. I'm having a good day, curled up in pjs with cuddly pets watching Leverage with my sister. Leverage is one of my favorite shows, because it's smart and fun and has great characters that grow over the seasons. Besides Supernatural, what's a show you really enjoy and why?

Thank you so much for the ask! I’m sorry I didn’t reply to it sooner, I’ve come down with a head cold and this is really the first day in several I’ve been able to compose more than a tweet about how much it sucks (swallowing = a knife jammed right into my inner ear, it’s super fun). But I did want to answer your question so I’ve been musing on it since your ask came in.

If it was just “what’s your favorite show right now” it’d be an easy answer: The Boys. The Boys, back to front, front to back, upside down and inside out. The first season was fantastic, and it felt like it woke me up to being excited about TV again after my interest in The Walking Dead waned mid-season. Everything new has seemed very plastic recently, and even The Mandalorian, which is super cool, is kind of like the Cartoon Network dub of Dragonball Z, so Disneyfied in its bloodlessness that although I’m enjoying it it feels even more synthetic as a result. The Boys was the opposite of that, and also just whoever invented Karl Urban, period, just deserves a nobel prize for that masterpiece. He pronounces twat wrong (okay okay it’s a dialect thing) but you can’t have everything =D

So instead (and because it’s cheating that I can pimp The Boys and wax lyrical about loves of old) I interpret your question as sort of like “Which show is your comfort food?” Which show do I go back to when I’m feeling like TV needs to give me a cuddle. I had a good think about it, because there’s a few…

(aside: I shouldn’t have put that gif in before I started writing. ahem.)

There’s been a few over the years, for sure. As a thirteen year old I used to watch and rewatch Buffy episodes, mostly season 2 (baby Spike!). At eighteen, it was old VHS of Deep Space Nine, my favorite ep was “Wrongs Darker Than Death or Night” which I watched repeatedly and think about constantly even today. 

But the show I keep coming back to is due South.

This post is a long post, it also deals with discourse (because my relationship to entertainment is so often mired in it, so please don’t proceed if you’re rather avoid it) and this is where it begins:

Okay, so fun fact: I watched due South the first time it aired with my parents (I was about 9) and then when it was on TV again as a repeat, I recorded it on VHS by RUSHING home every single day from school with nothing else on my mind but sitting on the floor two feet from the telly to watch it. Quantum Leap was on right after, and I had an entire different set of VHS tapes to record that on, so had to quickly switch between them. I’d stop recording at every break so that I could get more episodes on a tape. It’s not unsurprising to me now that both shows vibed with me as a young person who hadn’t yet really accepted that she was queer; due South’s main character is coded as Other both to the Americans whom he lives with, and his fellow Canadians, while Quantum Leap explores a straight white man jumping into the lives of Others, and living through them some of the hardest moments in their lives. Even though both keep it exceedingly, textually hetero, one has two men riding off into the snowy sunset together (leaving behind a straight lover to do so) and the other features a love between two men that in the original framing of the finale would have seen God/fate reconnecting the two of them even though one was lost in time, and the partner’s wife begging him to go.)

Of course young me didn’t give a shit about that, or didn’t realize that’s what she cared about. Young me loved the buddy-cop partnership of both shows. Young me liked the half-wolf, and the episodes where they ride horses, and honestly just waiting with bated breath to find out where Sam would jump to this time. “Oh boy!” Retrospectively, these shows (especially QL) are a lot more oh boy in a yikes context now than they used to be, but it’s good that shows age into yikes territory because it means that society is steadily advancing. Particularly, pointing out that these shows both feature white straight guys like…welcome to the nineties.

I was introduced to queer coding in part by watching due South. The show is laden with it. With writers, actors, and ultimately an executive producer who was all three, it makes you wonder if they would have gone there if they could; certainly the ending reads that way. They couldn’t, of course, because it was the nineties (and it was CBS that revived it after enormous international fan demand). Still, there was just nothing else analogous to what we have now that was going there on TV at the time. If you were queer (or discovering your queerness) then watching the show meant everything, as it did to me. So I snuggle up on the couch often these days and go back to that, because it gave me such joy, and because I was left with the opportunity to decide for myself how deep the relationship was. There was no promise of anything, because the context at the time was of course you can’t go there, nobody can go there. Queerbaiting was a word that simply hadn’t been breathed. There was no intent, no companies behind the curtain pulling strings going “Yes, make it more gay, we want those queer dollars”, just invested people slipping what they could past the studio censors.

Like this:

Sigh. A less enlightened time. =P (Incidentally fun meta here but this was after a conversation where Ray suggested that communication in a relationship should be intuitive, like breathing.)

So I guess in part I escape back there because none of that representation was ever as loaded as it is today. It doesn’t require me to judge it, or weigh it against the harm it does - because the politics of the time meant I thought it was doing good (retrospectively, and only through the lens of someone who had nothing to lose). It seemed to scream out into an unyielding universe to force it to move. It did a fraction of that, because of course it did. It was the nineties. It stole indigenous narratives and romanticized colonialism just as much as it beat the drum of environmentalism and kicked at the doors of corporate greed and racism. Old shows are inherently problematic. Today’s shows are too. Being able to examine them doesn’t mean not loving them, but it lets you say “Okay, so what do I expect from the things I watch today? What do I expect from the things I watch in five years time?”

All that aside, the show is just damn good. It’s watchable and rewatchable. It struggles to age because it was already so out of pace with the age it was made in–despite its flaws in representation, it was better than other shows at the time that demonized, tokenized, or outright killed minorities to push white narratives on their own shows (Kendra being murdered on Buffy, for example). It’s standalone enough that you can go back and watch any episode you like because overarching story arcs were way less of a staple as they are today.  It’s witty, fast paced, full of action and moral dilemma, do gooding and the consequences of it. Although still severely unbalanced, and very, very white, it did still have indigenous actors playing indigenous characters, and minorities portrayed in stories about them. There’s a dog. There’s classic cars. And it’s all put to the soundtrack of Canadian bands and singers. 

tl;dr ahead for rambling about subtext and being a disaster queer, but please scroll past for more gifs.

Queer me needed this show, in a world where I’d been taught to look and see myself in straight white male protagonists, it felt like A Lot to see all this on screen. It wasn’t, but it was all I got when I was growing up. I envy the good fortune of kids who can see themselves on screen these days while they try and figure themselves out (and hopefully more so in the future) with far less of having to negotiate through the confusion of looking at it through confusing fractals of different lenses and instead just see someone who looks like them showing them that their POV is normal, heroic and wonderful. Those lenses fucked me up big time. Like I’m not even sure right now what flavor of queer I am. I cling to bi like a lifeline of sense in my life, but it is complicated because I overwhelmingly desire the company of women way way more. But also I was was taught to look through the lens of a white dude in order to see myself universally, taught to be both desirous of the female body and humiliated by it, ashamed by sex, taught men were awful, and taught that I was supposed to marry one anyway. I look at my sexuality/romanticism like it’s a meta puzzle that I haven’t figured out yet, wondering how to put it on paper, how to break apart the different influences I experienced as a youngling and as an adult to try and negotiate if I’m misreading my own impulses. How I was brought up, who I’ve known, the relationships I’ve experienced and seen in real life and on TV. I’m 34 and I’m still no more certain. Subtext is both my friend and my enemy. I hate it, and I owe everything to it.

So when I need a rest from giving a shit about any of that noise, I go back to my comfort food. I go right back to subtext, which gave me the tools I needed to desire romance that wasn’t heterosexual, that somehow was more intimate because it relied on longing stares and never stepping foot out of the closet, that was just someone liking another person without any expectation of sex just because they have opposing genitals, and their colleagues hassle them a lot. There’s nothing wrong with the sex, I write a lot of consommation of the feelings that I see bubbling under the surface. I have even grown to appreciate het romance when it’s done in a way that doesn’t reduce the woman to a love interest–I was thrilled when Simon Baker’s Patrick Jane got together with Teresa Lisbon in The Mentalist. Their relationship was filled with subtext too. Subtext isn’t a queer thing, it has a role in all well written romance. Hell, it has a role in terriblebad tropey misogynistic romance, too. And just you know basically all storytelling (and more). 

Queer romance existing only in the subtext, though? It’s heartbreaking explicitly because it feels like a story that isn’t finished, and that’s where subtext reliant shows can hand off the story to be finished by fandom itself. In due South, as I mentioned before, Ray and Fraser jump into a dogsled and ride off over the snowy horizon to “Find the hand of Franklin, reaching for the Beaufort sea”. It’s where I chose my meta name, as I’ve mentioned before, because that ending - that ending - handed us all the subtext so far and said “Here, take it, it’s yours now. Do with it what you like”–and we did. But that was twenty years ago. I loved that ending (I still think it was a very elegant solution) and it was expected and appropriate for a show that in itself is a “Faves Are Problematic” show, but that’s also why I get so passionate about discussing the subtext in Supernatural.

It’s younger than due South. While it may have begun back when Willow from Buffy had her first girlfriend, it is ending now, not at the turn of the century where a dogsled was still good enough to get the point across and none of us had Twitter. My own experiences, my lifelong queer confusion make it so I feel pretty damn bad for people trying to use Supernatural as a medium for their own self-exploration, using characters from SPN as their lenses. A show these days that makes bank on those tropes and doesn’t inform its audience (positively or negatively) is doing so irresponsibly because of the modern context in which the show presently (not historically) sits, and the increasing awareness of the issues surrounding it. Networks, then, are ultimately responsible for that, but they are in a way which is entirely different and far more directly culpable than they were 20 years ago, because people are out there making money out of those intentional subtextual devices. They chose to do it; took a deep breath and backed right up away from Gamble’s problematic queerbashing tropes, chewed it over, then hired gay writers and dived right back in with more grown up, progressive, and less shitty subtext–but still subtext. 

This show that ended 20 years ago was able to cross way more lines with subtext in one episode than Supernatural has done sometimes in an entire season. It did so despite and because of it’s international audience, on a conservative network that would late purchase Paramount, and Star Trek, and ended with a powerfully subtextual ending. Supernatural, of course, is under a far more powerful microscope from the bigots than those oblivious to subtext back in the 90s could have ever produced. due South, like SPN was just “wholesome family entertainment” to a conservative audience that was completely oblivious by all accounts, yet was laden heavily with queer innuendo. It was also blissfully short, and existed in a social media world which consisted of Yahoo groups and not much else. 

In modern context, Supernatural gets a fox in the henhouse treatment from that same audience, and acts accordingly (when it’s not using that same subtext to deliver earnest Fuck You’s to that audience). While I expect Supernatural to bravely - even considering this scrutiny - deliver a dogsled subtextual ending on a good day, there are bad days, too, because the queer subtext has been underlined so loudly that everyone can see it, because it’s “practically text”, because the bottom line is increasingly more concerned with satisfying those bigots (even while they mock them), and because queer fans are “too loud” about what they want. How dare they. /s The pushback caused by being loud about things you care about, the bigots actually seeing subtext in front of their noses, isn’t bad because now they know what we’ve been doing all along, and we won’t be able to get away with it any more; it means they’re becoming more aware of narratives other than their own. Yes, some people will push back, but “when you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression”, and they can shove it right up their asses.

All I ever ask of myself when I interrogate my present day viewing experience, is this: when I sat as a youngster watching due South thinking “This subtextual ending is enough for me”, did I truly believe it was okay to be watching a show about two white guys with a subtextual ending 20 years later? Was that the future I dreamed of and aspired to? Would I be disappointed? The answer is yes, I am disappointed. No matter the whys, the fundamental and societal reasons–I am disappointed. I still love the show probably more than I should, but I am disappointed in the society it sits in - which is increasingly capitulating to far more powerful global financial powers than a couple of red state homophobes - and I’m disappointed in the way we’re treating each other for even caring, and I’m disappointed in myself, too, for being naive and imagining we would be much further down this road now than we are. But we are a capitalistic society, and being both the commodity and the customer should be a surprise to literally nobody at this point. It doesn’t mean you have to like it.

And if you don’t feel that way, that’s okay. We all come from different places. We have different perspectives. We need and want different things, for different reasons, and find joy in different things for different reasons. Variety of opinion is as much a wonderful thing as it is completely terrifying.

I’ve wandered somewhat off topic, so I’m going to go back to the show I love, my chocolate pudding and custard comfort food TV show, and the long stares and the beautiful uncomplicated subtext.

And sign off with half a dozen gifs.

Eye fucking:

Conversations in closets and bathrooms:

Going down with the ship

Intuitively understanding each other without a word spoken

His hobbies humiliate me in public

“Do you find me attractive?”

Sulking in the corridor while you reunite with your ex

This whole ep with original Ray:

And his wolf approving of both

Not pictured “I love you” “And I you”, “Get out of the closet”, actual hand holding when it’s unnecessary, formally handcuffing your buddy, getting stuck in an ice crevasse and a mini submarine together–and so so much more. I invite you to watch the show if you can find it (I have it on a really nice set of DVDs, but there’s some dodgy ones out there that look like they recorded the DVD straight off a VHS, so do check reviews) or else try and find it online. There was a Canada promoting YouTube channel which published both due South and shows like Slings and Arrows, which I recommend as well (It’s not actually bury your gays if the ghost of your gay best friend haunts you, right?) so you should be able to poke around and find a legit copy somewhere. I’ve bigged it up and talked it down, and wandered a long way off topic (that describes my relationship with every show, but especially when I recommend them) but I hope somewhere along the line I also answered the question. The way I hear it Leverage is a similar sort of comfort food, though I haven’t seen it. Sounds like I should put it on my To Watch list.

[sonderwalker]

Hey everyone! I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m really trying to get more into fic writing, and posting what I write!

Here’s the first chapter of one of my stories: Remnant, which is available on both fanfiction.net and AO3

Here are the links:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13161609/1/Remnant

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17166698/chapters/40363373

Anakin and Ahsoka walked down the busy walkways of Coruscant. Holographic ads were displayed in neon colors everywhere they looked. Women advertising new hair and skin products, an ad for the newest kind of speeder were all flashing before their eyes. Ahsoka took a deep breath; taking in the not so clean air that smelled like garbage, perfume, food, and exhaust from all of the speeders. People from all races and classes were moving about. Some were begging for money, others were flaunting the money that they had. Out on the streets, being a Jedi didn't make them stand out as much. When everyone is trying to stand out no one really ends up standing out. Which is what makes Coruscant so special- at least to some that is.

Ahsoka looked up at Anakin, who seemed to be lost in thought during their whole walk to the diner. The last time they were here is when Obi-Wan went on his undercover mission used Anakin to make it seem more believable. Except at the time, everyone thought that he was dead, except for Anakin. She could tell that her master wasn't really over it yet. Every interaction that had taken place between Anakin and Obi-Wan was too stiff and too formal. Even too formal for Master Obi-Wan and way out of character for Anakin. She could tell that what had happened upset him but none of them knew how to approach the subject. Anakin was mad because he had been used, Obi-Wan was mad because of how Anakin reacted and Ahsoka was just sad.

They approached the diner and walked in as the doors slid open. Ahsoka and Anakin took their usual window seat and Ahsoka had to break the silence.

"You've been awfully quiet today, Master." She commented. Anakin looked her in the eye and shrugged.

"Maybe. Just thinking." He said.

"Thinking about what?" Ahsoka asked "The next upgrade you're going to give R2?" She teased.

That made Anakin smile, which helped ease her mood in return. "Oh, for sure. I was thinking he would love if I gave him a new paint job."

"Hmmmmm, I doubt it." Ahsoka said.

"What can I get for you?" The waitress droid asked as she rolled over to the pair. Anakin looked at Ahsoka and her response was looking back at him with the same confused face.

"Um, we haven't decided yet." Anakin said to the droid. She rolled away, muttering something about how humans could never do anything fast enough. Ahsoka chucked and looked back at Anakin. He was not as quiet as before, but he was still more standoffish than usual, which really meant something. Her master usually didn't hold back on his thought about most things but ever since the incident with Obi-Wan, he had been holding back a lot.

She knew that she wasn't the only one who noticed this; Master Plo had gone to lunch with her the other day and asked her about Master Skywalker and Kenobi. Specifically, Master Skywalker, since he had also noticed a bit of a personality change in him during and after Obi-Wan's undercover mission. She told him that she wasn't exactly sure what had transpired between the two of them, but it was making most of their interactions as a trio very awkward. In addition, she had noticed that neither of them had ever apologized to each other. Master Plo noted that it was probably because they both thought they were right.

Ahsoka thought that they were both wrong, but she kept that opinion to herself.

"Hey" Anakin said. Ahsoka looked up at him, hoping that he couldn't read her emotions very well through the force. She realized that he probably could anyway, but she hoped that he wouldn't say anything about it.

"You haven't been listening to anything that I've said. I asked you three times what you felt like having."

"Oh, um… I'm not sure." Ahsoka said sheepishly. Anakin rolled his eyes and smiled slightly.

"Well you should decide soon before that droid comes back and starts trash taking us again." He said. The droid never got the chance to come back and trash talk again because as soon as Anakin finished speaking, an explosion tore through the side of the building.

Ahsoka was flung through the diner and landed roughly on her side. She could hear people shouting for help and running around. As her vision cleared, she saw that the restaurant had lost power and people were running around everywhere. There was a huge smoldering hole torn in the side of the building, making the metal walls look like they were just paper.

She got up and looked around. Standing in a crouched formation, she spotted the enemy. Six men wearing all black and concealing their faces walked in to the diner through the hole that they had created. They all held large blasters and were pointing them at the customers to make them cower in fear. Ahsoka ignited her lightsabers, which turned all the attention to her. Three of the men pointed their blasters towards her and began to fire. While deflecting blaster bolts, she looked around for Anakin. He usually beat her to getting back on his feet, so she was expecting to see his blue blade in the air. Instead she only saw hers and the blaster bolts coming towards her.

"Master!" She shouted when she realized that she couldn't see him.

"Master!" She called again when there was no response. Growing frantic, Ahsoka dove behind an upturned table and looked around the edges of it. She saw customers hiding and holding each other behind other upturned tables, but none with her Master behind them.

"Anakin!" Ahsoka shouted urgently. She heard a muffled yell and perked up from behind the table. The other three men had bound Anakin and were trying to take him out through the hole that they had come in from. Anakin struggled to free himself, but one of the men injected him with something in his neck and his body became limp.

Ahsoka screamed and leaped forward. She couldn't let her master get taken away. She couldn't. Not after seeing what it did to Anakin. She didn't want to experience that kind of pain.

Ahsoka ran forward while deflecting as many blaster bolts as she could. The other three men had noticed that she was beginning to advance and threw and explosive towards her. Ahsoka used the force to help curb the blast and protect the customers. When she looked back up again, her master was gone, and so were the men that took him.

She ran through the hole that they had come through and out into the busy walkways. There was no sign of any commotion anywhere. It was like they had just disappeared.

Ahsoka fell to her knees and stared at the ground. She noticed that small puddles were accumulating in front of her and she touched her face. It was wet and warm.

She didn't even notice that she had cried. What kind of Jedi was she?

[armandyke]

hallo here are the hc's i whipped up for the teacher au!! i'm sorry this turned into an essay i'm just a dumbass who loves soft teacher au a lot!!

“not sure what the others would teach in this teacher au tho-” *wakes up in the dead of night with cold sweat* *kicks down the door* I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS!!

oh boy…get ready….cause it’s A LOT

- Submitted by @katgreeves

luther: physics teacher, cause you know…spaceboy……everyone is scared at the beginning of the year when they get him as a teacher cause he’s TALL AND HUGE AS FUUUUUCK, but then fast forward two months later and everyone is chill because turns out he’s a really easygoing and soft teacher…just really socially awkward and lowkey dumb sometimes

asshole kids in his classes use his softness to his disadvantage and pull pranks on him constantly, poor guy….the other kids tho always tell them to shove it tho because he may be soft and dumb and socially awkward but he’S OUR SOFT AND DUMB AND SOCIALLY AWKWARD TEACHER DON’T TOUCH HIM!! the first time they protected him he had to remind himself not to tear up because HE FELT SO LOVED!!!! 

he gets them snacks even if they’re not supposed in the science classrooms because “eXPeriMENts and CHEmIcALsSsSsssSS!!!” and will rant for hours about space and starts and THE MOOOOON cause when he was a kid he always wanted to be an astronaut ( :’))))))) ) and his kids get fed up one day and go “why don’t you just make an astrology club mr luther????” and he does and IT’S A REAL SUCCESS WITH THE SCHOOL BODY YAY!!!

(five when he grows up also becomes a physics teacher and pesters luther all the time like “I AM 10 TIMES THE TEACHER YOU EVER WERE-” “NO YOU AREN’T STFU” and he’s technically wrong and right because material wise??? yes he’s 100% the better teacher and he always has answers to the kids questions and teaches them extra content cause he’s always been a genius but as a physics teacher that kids really like????? no siree that title goes to luther because he was a soft teddy bear to his students and they trusted him while five is eccentric and strict the the point where his kids are scared the FUCK out of him)

diego: pe teacher, SWEARS SO MUCH IN FRONT OF THE KIDS IN CLASS OMG HOW IS HE NOT FIRED YET?? is tough on the kids sometimes so push harder but IS ALSO SOFT AND REALLY ENCOURAGING THE KIDS TO WORK AND TRY THEIR BEST BECAUSE HE BELIEVES IN THEM!!! (except for the group of cocky assholes he’ll get in every class and don’t want to listen to them…he has personally removed their rights in the class)

whenever the self-defense unit comes around he’s sooooo dedicated to it and makes sure that the kids master everything to a t, cause who knows when it might come in handy??? he wants to make sure that the kids know how to protect themselves as the world is a shitty place and you never know when shit will go bad (except he does…he’s had enough bullshit and scared happen to him and has gotten involved in so many fights that he wants to make sure that the kids won’t hurt like him :“’))))))))) ) 

he’s a secret softie that will protect the kind kids that are not as good at pe and get bullied by the cocky assholes in the class becAUSE THAT’S JUST WHAT HE WOULD DO NO IM NOT SELF PROJECTING OF WHAT I WANTED OUT OF MY PE TEACHERS SHUT U-

also eudora is a pe teacher and the two of them are very competitive to be the best pe teacher and this rivalry turns into playful flirting and big ass crushes that they’re way too stubborn to admit, the entire school still ships it anyways (the entire school also ships klaus and dave because gay rights!!!!!)

allison: either school counselor or principal i can’t decide because she can be super kind and open to talk and gives advice that helps a LOT but she’s also a hbic THAT CAN AND WILL run the place. 

anyways, whatever job she has, she also helps with the drama club and school plays, and literally every year the theatre kids BEG HER to kick out the current drama teachers and replace them because allison>>>>>>>>>>>> all of the existing drama teachers there  

ben: is either a literature or philosophy teacher. super smart and knowledgable but is also really laid back and fun to talk to. he’s got a dark and snarky sense of humor and his students always have sass battles with him. the number of INSANE inside jokes his students and him share is HUGE.

HE DEMANDS THAT HIS STUDENTS PARTAKE IN READING TIME IN THE BEGINNING OF CLASS NO MATTER WHAT THEY HAVE TO DO BECAUSE READING IN AN IMPORTANT SKILL AND HOBBY FOR DEVELOPMENT AS A READER, WRITER, LEARNER, AND OVERALL PERSON AND NO AMY DON’T ROLL YOUR EYES AT ME I’M THE TEACHER HERE AND I SAID NO ELECTRONICS SO PUT THE GODDAMN PHONE AWAY BEFORE I COME OVER THERE AN-

anyways…he is really considerate to what students need and makes them as relaxed as possible because school is HELL. students LOOOOOVE HIM. HE’S THE ONE TEACHER BESIDES DAVE THAT LITERALLY EVERYONE LIKES. (highkey inspired by my philosophy and lit teachers because they’re also really smart but sassy and cool like ben and I JUST THINK THEY’RE NEAT)

vanya: strings orchestra teacher for obvious reasons. she was real shy at first when she first got hired but the the strings department at that time was soooo small and crappy that she went “oh HELL no,” rolled up her sleeves, and set to revitalize it just because she cares about music so much.

she recruited more students, got more advanced music so the kids could feel a challenge and be motivated to improve, and collaborated with the choir and band departments to provide more clubs, events and opportunities outside of class for kids to do music.

she is a no business type of teacher when it comes to arrogant people that put other players down or people who don’t practice and goof around and will snap at them SO HARD because everyone needs to be at their a game for a concert and in an orchestra no single person is bigger that the collective. she’s however SOOOO SOFT with really soft playing and shy kids because she understands how it feels when you think your playing isn’t good enough, so gives them extra help, gives them solo lines or solos to play so they gain more confidence in themselves, all while constantly giving encouraging words about how much they’ve improved that always makes them feel better and more motivated to improve.

she’s an absolute anxious and cranky maniac a week before the concert but she throws parties with food, drinks, and games afterwards to celebrate with her kids. she constantly gets them to play music related games and challenges that they do as a class for team bonding to make things more entertaining in class. she makes dumb music puns a lot too! 

she also will in the class say crazy stories of her childhood and the crazy shit she and her siblings did and then somehow always relate it back to the lesson and make it some sage advice…the kids never understand how she does it

(me???? self projecting more of my teachers into this au cause they’re cool??? more likely than you think)

also one day she chops her hair real short and cute and the conversation with her students basically went like this:

students: miss vanya you cut your hair???

vanya: yes kids I’m a lesbian

students: !!!!!!!!!!!!

vanya: ;))))))))

students: MISS VANYA SAID GAY RIGHTS!!!!

vanya: HELL YE I DID!!!

bonus grace yayyyy!!!!!: is the school nurse…she’s so sweet, so soft….has precisely whatever people need when they feel sick/injured…helps them calm down in they’re freaking out…always has a couple of beds in the nurse’s office so people can lie if they feel dizzy…gives out candy/sweets/food to people so they feel better!!

diego meets her a lot because a lot of kids in his class gets injuries and he takes them to the nurse and he jUST LOVES HER SM!!! INSTANT MOM FIGURE!! THEY TALK AND JOKE AND LAUGH TOGETHER AND GRACE WILL ALWAYS GIVE HIM A PASTRY SHE MADE WHENEVER HE COMES BY AND HE JUST IS SO SOFT AROUND HER ITS GREAT (his students find his sudden change in his demeanour amusing “hey mr diego is nurse grace your MMMmoooOoOooOOOmMMMMMMmmmmmM??” “kid your a good one but say that shit to me one more time and I will beat the sh-”)

she always has a smile on her and everyone LOVES HER…..except for the administration that always want to get her fired because they are assholes and they think she’s too weird to stay. however, every time they try to fire her, a certain teacher comes by the office for what they claim is a civil discussion...and after an hour of yelling, death threats, and the door getting 10 knife marks they go “you know what grace…you can stay" 

those assholes are persistant though, and one time though not even a certain teacher could get them away from firing her so once the news breaks out that nurse grace is leaving the whole school is FURIOUS and throws a 1 week riot and the administration get so scared and tired that they just go "OK WERE SORRY JUST KIDDIN- OK OK SHE’S STAYING FOR GOOD JESUS”

grace is so grateful that she makes a whole bunch of cake for everyone and everyone with tears in their eyes just goes “this…is why we love you sm nurse mom”

~~okkkieee that’s the end of it sorry it’s a literal essay I just got very passionate about this au lmao rip!!! I’m slowly tempted to write a fic about it even though i’ve never written a fic before in my LIFE and I already have like 3 other au fic ideas in my head already smh

[agentunwin]

RUNAWAY [SHAWN X READER]

A/N: God this is honestly so bad because I just wrote it really quick just to have something to upload, so I’m sorry in advance jdks

Prompt: It’s your wedding day, but the man you actually want to marry will be sitting in the crowd.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff (why is that a warning?)

Words: 2,381

Masterlist

-

The curls peeking from the side of the door are the first thing you notice. Shawn never was very good at sneaking.

And as he watches you and your bridesmaids getting ready for the big event that was starting in all but 20 minutes, he couldn’t control the stream of different emotions flowing through him. 

You’re wearing a long, flowing, diamond-studded dress like the star you are. This dress was you; the embodiment of class, elegance, beauty. You were gleaming, your makeup absolutely perfect, hair styled pristinely.

The glow emanating from your face was ethereal. You looked happy.

But not happy because of him.

Shawn's mind goes blank for a while, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, and he only comes to when he notices you kindly waving your bridesmaids out of the room.

At this, Shawn stands up straight and clears his throat, pretending to check his time or fix his hair or adjust his tie; anything to not make himself look suspicious as the girls passed him, going to fulfill their duties somewhere else.

The room he had been listening in on was now silent, and the war inside his mind was only growing. Should I go in and say hi?, he'd ask himself, or should I just leave?

The long, strange silence is broken when your voice speaks out, catching him off guard.

"You can come in, Shawn."

Shawn's eyes go wide at the realization that he's been caught, but he stands up from the wall and nervously takes a few steps into the room, feeling blessed to even breathe the same air as you again.

You look different than you did just a minute ago. Your glow has dimmed, eyelids suddenly heavier, and your smile- if that's even what you could call it anymore- has turned timid and shy.

Was this the effect he had on you now, when not so long ago, he was the only source of your happiness?

"H-Hi." Shawn breathes out, nose stinging with warning of his tears that would inevitably fall at some point tonight. "Long time no see."

You only nod at this, lipstick-stained lips pressing together.

"Uh, you look great." Shawn compliments, eyes brightening the slightest bit. "Really great. I see you got the dress you always told me you'd wanna be married in."

"Yep. I love it." You mutter blandly as look down to your lap for a second, your left hand beginning to instinctively play with the engagement ring on your right hand. This has become a nervous habit of yours ever since the ring was given to you 9 months ago.

"That's a big rock," He chuckles, and you can tell at this point he's just trying to keep some conversation going, dancing around what he actually wants to say. "Must've cost a fortune, so I'm guessing this guy is loaded. Who is he, anyway?"

"His name is Michael." You hum, nodding your head. "He's a doctor, so yeah, he's pretty well off. That doesn't matter though."

Shawn bites the inside of his cheek and contemplates his next words. His ex's wedding day surely isn't the best day to confess his feelings, but it's been eating him alive for 2 years now. 2 years of crying himself to sleep, 2 years of writing songs about you, 2 years of misery. And god, he wants her to know how miserable he really is, but that wouldn't be fair to her.

"How's your love life going?" You suddenly ask, eyebrows raised. The question confuses him but he knows you're only trying to make banter as well.

Shawn opens his mouth but nothing comes out as he awkwardly stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"I've tried speed dating and dating apps and those sorts of things," He finally speaks up, but his next words are barely audible, you're not even sure if you hear him correctly. "It never works, though.. Because it's not you."

You bite your lip and he can see your eyes get even heavier at the shift of mood in the room. Shawn feels awkward and he feels stupid, but he continues talking, probably making things worse for himself.

"I miss you so much, Y/N. I miss coming home to you after long days in the studio and spooning with you. I miss those talks about what our wedding day would be like and what dog we'd get and what our kids would be like. I miss the way your face would light up with excitement every time you see me. Now, we're acting like strangers and it's killing me." Shawn takes a deep, shaky breath when he's finishing his words, trying to keep his tears at bay. He shuts his eyes and licks over his cracked lips, "But I also love seeing you happy. So if this is what makes you happy, you have my full support."

He doesn't open his eyes in fear of what you might do or say. He feels embarrassed that he just laid all of that on you when he told himself it was wrong- that it wouldn't be fair. But he did it anyway, and he could already feel regret seeping into his bones.

"What if I'm not?"

Your voice is shy, just a whimper on the tip of your tongue, but it's enough for him to whip his head up.

His eyes go wide and he furrows his eyebrows, "What if you're not what?"

"Happy." She sniffs, and now he can see the tears in her eyes as well.

His jaw drops and he's gaping at her, mind spinning. "Y/N, no, no, no, what do you mean? You have to be happy, right? You're marrying this guy, you have to be sure!"

"God," You chuckle bitterly, a look of disbelief on your face. "You sound like everyone else in my life. I can't do this."

That's when you start really bawling, and now, Shawn has absolutely no idea what to do with himself. He's standing in front of the bride who's hands are covering her face, completely ruining her makeup, and if someone were to walk by right now, this would not look good.

Shawn runs to shut the door and then he runs back over to you, kneeling in front of you and grabbing your hands in his. This familiar touch is what you'd missed for so long. It was strong and comforting, just like all of him.

"Y/N." Shawn says sternly, forcing your eyes up to his. "Tell me what's going on."

"He's not a good person!" Y/N immediately screams, tears streaming down her face even faster now. "All he cares about is money and his job, all I am to him is a trophy! But I have to marry him, I can't deny him because everyone in my life only wants me to marry a rich man. They don't even care about how I feel, and now I feel like I'm in hell every time I wake up in the morning and you're not next to me. I hate this, I hate him, I hate myself!"

You're pounding at Shawn's chest with every last word as you completely break down, heaving and hiccuping wildly, and Shawn swears he's never seen you so angry before.

Shawn catches your hands in his again to get you to stop and his grip is much stronger this time, making sure you don't escape him. He doesn’t know what to say or do and his mind is just trying to when you add the icing on top, your watered eyes looking straight into his.

“I miss you, Shawn, I miss you so fucking much.”

He’s been waiting to hear those words leave your lips for 2 years now, but now that he’s hearing them, he feels awful. He wanted to hear them, but not like this.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N,” He whispers, a single tear straying down his cheek, “I’m not gonna let you go through with this if you don’t actually want it.”

“I only have 10 minutes, Shawn,” You continue to cry, burying your face in his chest, getting makeup all over his suit. “It’s too late.”

Shawn bites his lip and shakes his head, refusing to let you marry a man you despised. He glanced at the clock and got to work, quickly beginning to unzip your dress, being careful not to rip or ruin it. You only stand there and try to stifle your cries, allowing him to execute whatever plan he’d conjured up.

When the dress is off he’s folding it as carefully as he can given the time, and you’re standing there in your bra and underwear, suddenly self-conscious again. He notices your body cowering under his gaze and he wants to tell you how beautiful you are and not to hide from him but there’s no room for that right now. He grabs random clothes from somewhere in the room, probably one of the bridesmaid’s clothes. 

He helps you slip into it and his hands go to your hair, undoing some of the many pins and messing it up a bit. 

He steps back and looks at you, sighing heavily. It was a terrible disguise, but for now, it would have to work. 

Everything is going so fast you can’t even comprehend what’s happening anymore. He finds a bag somewhere in the room and stuffs the wedding dress in and then he’s grabbing your purse and your hand, rushing you out of the room. 

The banquet hall is rowdy, people all around talking and hoping to get a glimpse of the bride and groom before the ceremony begins. 

Shawn’s jaw clenches and he leans down to your ear, whispering, “Keep your head down, we’re gonna go out to my car.”

You do as he says and stare at the ground as he guides you through a sea of people, praying that nobody recognized you. The walk to the back door seems like it takes hours before you’re finally hit with the crisp, fresh air, signaling that you’d made it out.

Shawn’s rushing doesn’t stop there, however. He’s running with you to his car and telling you to get into the passenger seat as he runs around to the other side, throwing the dress in the back seat and handing your purse to you.

“Text someone and tell them what’s going on,” Shawn orders you, wasting no time in backing out of the driveway and hitting the long road back to the apartment. “Then turn off your phone. Please.”

You do as he says, texting one of your bridesmaids, then you’re shutting it off and taking a deep breath, looking over to him. “I can’t believe I actually just did that. Fuck, what did I just do?”

“Don’t worry about that right now.” Shawn insists, glancing at you for a second. You look like you could drop at any second now, completely drained of any energy. “Y/N, it’s a long drive home. You can fall asleep if you want, I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

That one fateful word slips off his tongue before he can stop himself, but instead of you wincing at the word, you smile gently at it, taking it in wholly. You nod at his promise and reach your left hand out, putting your trust in him. He gets the hint and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers in his. 

Shawn gives your hand a small squeeze and then you’re drifting off to the sound of his low singing and the hum of the engine.

A when you wake up, you’re eternally grateful that none of it was a dream. 

Shawn’s gently tapping your cheeks, trying to get you to wake up as he whispers, “Y/N, we’re here, wake up, sweetheart.”

You don’t know if you’re surprised or not when you open your eyes and notice you’re back at the apartment that you and Shawn used to own together. He helps you out of the truck and keeps your hands connected as he guides you inside the familiar, cozy building, heading straight for the elevator.

“You still live here?” You mutter, looking up to him. 

He nods, rocking back and forth on his feet. “It has a special place in my heart. Lotta memories here, you know. I couldn’t let you go completely.”

Those memories immediately come flooding back to you when he opens the door and you’re hit with a wave of sadness.

Your pictures are still hung up on the wall, serving as constant reminders of you every time he’d pass one. The apartment was exactly the same as you’d left it 2 years ago when you broke up with him, complaining that he was never home because of his music. Now it seemed like all his time was spent in these rooms, moping around and feeling miserable.

But not anymore- Not as long as he had you by his side.

The rest of that night, Shawn helps you get ready for bed, taking your makeup off, putting your hair up into a bun, giving you a bath, and dressing you in some of his way-too-big clothes to sleep in.

You’re laying on your side in the bed that you used to spend hours in. It feels familiar yet cold without Shawn’s body next to you. You don’t know what to do while you wait for him and you’re staring at your phone on the nightstand, tempted to turn it on- to see all of the slander, all of the angry and concerned messages. However, Shawn walks in, catching you staring at it, and he sighs heavily.

“Babe, please don’t think about it. You need to rest.” He mutters, climbing into the bed beside you. He pulls you into him and your body reacts to him like this is normal, like Shawn never left you. Your back is to his chest and your legs tangle together naturally as he nestles his face into your neck, pressing a light kiss there.

“I’m so glad you came back to me. This bed never felt the same after that night.” He whispers and you swear you feel a tear drop onto your skin, making you frown. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Shawn.” You sniff, a small smile replacing your frown. “I never stopped loving you, and I never will.”

-

A/N: god this is so bad sjdksj sorry

[jhpclub]

“you were wrapped in red (when we met)”

{ in which jennie and jisoo meet for the first time on christmas eve and not everything is as it seems }

→ jensoo | santa!jennie | single mom!jisoo

jisoo's sense of time had always been a little bit off

like she never knows what day it is and constantly has to ask her co-workers, and nobody blinks an eye anymore when she forgets their birthday—they know it's nothing personal anyway since she even forgets hers sometimes

so she isn't really that surprised when she realises christmas is just around the corner and she had absolutely no idea, too busy working and taking care of her three year old daughter to actually notice the slowly but steadily increasing amount of shining decorations all around town

it only takes getting stuck in traffic on her way to the office and having to listen to a unhealthy amount of christmas songs the radio throws her way first thing on a monday morning before she realizes what time of the year it is

and of course she gets as excited as ever because, well, jisoo is that type of person

the one who used to stay up all night as a kid just so she could spy on santa claus and make sure he brought her what she had asked for (and also steal one or two of his cookies)

the one who would ignore her classmates' comments and would stubbornly keep on repeating that the chubby guy with the white beard is real even though nobody ever sees him or knows anything about him apart from the fact that he apparently enjoys going around every year to sneak into people's house, bring them gifts and eat their food

jisoo was and still is the type of person that could listen to the same christmas carol ten times on repeat and enjoy herself every single time, following the tune by shaking her head while pretending she's in charge of some big orchestra in her mind

she absolutely loved all the bright christmas lights and ornaments as a kid, and the same could be said for adult jisoo as well, so she's more than ecstatic to buy as many as possible and help her daughter decorate the christmas tree while she snaps some cute pictures she's going to stick on the fridge door later

that's how she ends up getting stuck in some shopping mall for hours, going through an unbelievably large amount of ornaments—big and small, covered in spangles and colorful glitter that gets stuck all over her palms—, getting gifts for her friends and family and of course buying two ridiculous rudolph the reindeer sweaters in different sizes just so she and her daughter can match

the two of them immediately get to work once they make it back to their apartment, creating a colorful mess all over their living room in just a few moments, but jisoo doesn't really mind

sure, this is going to be a hell to clean up later, but right now she's too busy watching her baby giggle as she's standing right next to their christmas tree (which isn't that big cause their apartment doesn't have that much space, but it's still way taller than her uwu), her rudolph sweater fitting her perfectly and making her look absolutely adorable

jisoo even helps her write a letter to santa claus because the little girl has only learnt how to write her name so far, and promises to send it to him

and then time goes by and before jisoo even realises it it's christmas eve and she would give absolutely anything to be home with her daughter, some of her mother's freshly baked cookies and a home alone movie playing on the tv, but here she is instead, stuck in the office until late at night because someone else didn't do their job right and she had to pay the price for it

she literally has the biggest pout ever when she gets back home, but she immediately forgets everything about how shitty her day was when she finds her mother and daughter waiting for her

and after eating, her mom goes to sleep, tired after having to look after the baby all day long, leaving the other two alone, and it doesn't take long before jisoo's eyes turn heavy and she craves her bed more than anything in her life

all she wants to do is sleep, but she has to take care of the little one first, who's also looking very sleepy, judging by how she can't keep her eyes open for more than just a couple of seconds at a time

and once the baby looks comfortable and warm enough, jisoo returns to the living room to turn off the tv and head to bed after what felt like the longest day of her life, but she somehow falls asleep on the couch with the tv still on

that's how she wakes up a few hours later, extremely disoriented and confused because what the hell is that sound? it's definitely not the baby and all the tv screen has to offer now is static, so she has absolutely no idea what is going on until she turns her head to where the christmas tree is

and at first jisoo can't really see anything because it's too dark and her eyes are still adjusting to the world around her, but then she spots the source of the sound aka a figure in the darkness, lean looking and just as tall as her, so she guesses it belongs to a girl

which means it can't possibly be that hard to take her down or at least try because there is absolutely no way jisoo is letting anyone steal from her, not when her mother and daughter are sleeping upstairs and definitely not on christmas eve

and she's this close to kicking the girl on the back and making her fall on the tree face first, but just then the stranger turns around, eyes going wide with surprise as they're locking with jisoo's in the darkness of the room

and jisoo decides to take advance of the thief's stunned moment because she knows this is her chance, so she quickly grabs the first thing her hands land on—her daughter's feeding bottle oh my god— and is ready to throw it on the girl's face

except she doesn't go through with her plan because the stranger starts talking really fast and loud and she looks like she's on the verge of bursting into tears

which means more noise, which means more changes of the baby waking up and starting crying like there's no tomorrow, which means no sleep for jisoo, so she quickly leans in and covers the thief's mouth with the back of her palm until she looks calm again

and now that jisoo's eyes have adjusted to the darkness and the stranger isn't looking that terrified anymore, the girl notices how pretty the other is, all sharp yet delicate features, and she also pays attention to her outfit aka a short fur dress in a vibrant red color with hints of white at the top and bottom

she even has a matching hat on and jisoo can't help a “for a thief, you're fashionable and have a sense of humor at least”

and the girl is looking at her like ???????? because thief? hell no

“no, i, huh—well, i'm actually santa claus' daughter”

and jisoo can't help but burst into laughter because of course she had to be the one getting robbed tonight and by an absolute awful thief at that

and no matter how many times the stranger repeats things like “i'm not a thief, that's what the yule lads* do, they're awful”, “my dad is retiring and i have to take over”, “could you please not call the police? my reindeers are waiting on the roof and rudolph is getting more impatient the older he gets”, “my father is going to be so damn angry if he finds out, he'll probably make me train the new elves and let me tell you, no one wants to do that, they're so freaking loud” jisoo still laughs with her palm over her lips to make sure she makes as little noise as possible

until she suddenly stops because the stranger opens her red bag and a piece of paper jumps out, floats in the air right in front of her face and grows longer, until the end reaches the ground

and jisoo just stares at the other girl because what the hell just happened??? is this some type of secret thief technology or is jisoo finally losing her mind?

and the girl just stares back at her as she grabs the floating paper like it's the most normal thing ever and shows her the list of names with either the word naughty or nice written right next to them

and then jisoo just stands there because floating lists with children names, her daughter's included, and waiting reindeers on her roof and some strange yet pretty girl in her living room talking about santa being her father is too much

and she doesn't know how it happens, but she's suddenly back on the couch and the girl is feeding her the cookies her daughter insisted on leaving out for santa while rubbing her back to calm her down

and then out of the blue she starts talking about how cute baby reindeers are and how she used to take care of them and make sure they grew up healthy and strong before she had to leave other people in charge in order to get ready for talking over her father's position because he's growing too old to be traveling around the world

and just by looking at her jisoo can tell she isn't very fond of what she's doing and she would rather go back to the way things were before

and maybe she's too tired to be rational, or she's simply going crazy,,,, like a girl dressed in red fur sitting on her couch is claiming she's the daughter of some imaginary guy and jisoo actually believes her, how crazier could it possibly get?

but jisoo starts talking about how her life was before the baby and how changes aren't always bad, just different, and it takes time to get used to them

and the girl keeps her eyes on her all the time, making jisoo blush because damn she's so pretty and she really hopes the darkness of the room can hide how red her cheeks have gotten

and jisoo doesn't know for how long they've been talking, but suddenly the girl gets up, looking all panicked and mumbling things like “i'm so late”, “dad is going be so mad”

and the girl gets ready to climb up the chimney—“don't look at me like that, it's easier than it looks, magic does wonders”

but before she leaves jisoo asks for her name and is pretty disappointed when she finds out jennie doesn't have a phone number—“well, um, using reindeers and stardust is easier and cheaper, you know?”

she still gives jennie her number anyway because come on, who would let a girl like that walk away so easily?

and maybe it's silly but after that night she keeps checking her phone for any messages or calls, partly to make sure that what she experienced actually happened, but most importantly because she simply wants to talk to jennie again

which much to jisoo's disappointment doesn't actually happen until after a whole year

jisoo thinks it's silly, and maybe she did imagine the whole thing after all (maybe the whole thing was just a scenario her mind made up just so she could have an excuse to eat all the cookies her daughter left for santa), but she still stays up all night and waits

she waits for so long she's almost ready to lean back on the couch and let her eyes close, but that's when he hears a strange noise coming from the chimney, like someone is making their way down

and her heart starts beating fast because she isn't crazy thank god, but most importantly because jennie is here

jennie, who she almost attacked last year because she got into her house without permission, but now look at her, staying up late to see her

jennie, who has a sweet smile and cares about reindeers and ended up being late just to make sure jisoo was feeling okay

jennie, who comes out of the chimney opening with her red bag on her shoulder and the same big smile like last year

jisoo watches her as she goes to stand next to the tree, leaving her daughter's gift right next to the cookies she left for santa

and when they're finally facing each other jennie grabs something from her bag—“stardust. you can write your messages for me on a paper, any paper, and i will get them. well, you know, if you actually want to send me something. no pressure.”

and then jennie leaves, climbing up the chimney like the year before

and once jisoo makes sure the sleigh isn't on her roof anymore she sits on her office, opens her notebook and uses a little bit of stardust to write will you go on a date with me?

and a few hours later a big shining yes is waiting for her right under her question

♡ bonus ♡

jisoo and the baby moving in with jennie and her parents after dating for a couple of months

jennie convincing her father to make snow fall down in the shape of little hearts just so it can be extra romantic when she proposes to her girlfriend

them getting married in matching white fur dresses and hats and looking cute as hell

jensoo and their daughter taking care of baby reindeers and taking cute pics to hang on the wall

jennie cheating during snowfights by making snowballs float and chase after jisoo

jensoo traveling around the world together every year to make sure all the nice children get their presents

jisoo taking care of the elves and even teaching some cool tricks to the younger ones, making them all swoon over her

jennie getting sick because she played out in the snow with the baby for too long and jisoo scolding her but still taking care of her

jisoo teaching jennie how to use a phone and jennie getting introduced to memes

did you know? santa claus' favorite swimming spot is the north pool xD

...

i'm telling your dad

NO!!!1!1

jensoo cuddling and being happy and in love and drinking hot chocolate while it's snowing outside uwu

*yule lads: mischievous pranksters who sometimes steal and harass people. their role has become more benevolent in recent years, though.

— note —

hi! this is the first time i'm doing something like this, i hope it doesn't suck that much. i just saw jensoo's recent pic and simply couldn't resist, they're so cute. any feedback would be very appreciated! ofc u can send me ur requests if u have any, either for an idol or idolxidol,,,

merry christmas, guys ♡

[archived-fic-writing-fandom-blog]

I saw you wrote a headcannon about Steve and Bucky carrying a plus-sized girl and stuff. But, do you really think they would look twice at someone overweight? They're fit guys who have to fight and look after themselves, someone fat would not be able to keep up and would probably not appeal to them when they could be with anyone. Let alone love or even have sex with them. Not trying to be rude. I'm genuinely curious what you think.

First of all, you need to know some things about me. I am plus size as well as chronically ill. The other thing about me is that I do lots and lots of research when I answer these questions. I try to base my answers on what I’ve observed in the movies, what I know or find out from the comics, as well as any gaps that are filled in via interviews, tweets, and articles. I write MCU fanfic, but most of my characterizations come from a mix of the comics and the movies. I also google stuff to make sure I am -historically- accurate... or as historically accurate as I can be.

That being said:

Steven Grant Rogers:

Steve Rogers is the son of poor Irish immigrants. He grew up in Brooklyn. He grew up very, very ill. In fact, he spent more of his life sick than not, not counting the time he was in the ice after crashing the plane. SO growing up in that part of town, he had some exposure to plus-size women. Whether they were plus-size by the 20/30/40s standards or our own, big women are not new to him and being who he is, and I have no doubts that Steve saw beauty where ever it was. His mama taught him right, is what I’m saying.

Steve even says in the moves that he hates bullies. Before the forum, he’d constantly been bullied and always ignored. Never taken seriously. Even as Captain America, before he went on actual missions... he felt like a performing monkey. He hated it. That’s not what he signed up for. He didn’t want to be a performing monkey in a fancy suit. He wanted to be a real soldier, helping other real soldiers to fight the enemy.

Steve has like zero experience with women. He didn’t get very far with Peggy, and he didn’t like her because she was thin. He wanted her because she saw past the sick body and saw him for who he was... and Sharon... Don’t even get me fucking started on that disaster of a relationship... I mean, come on. The great-niece of the only woman you ever loved? Come on, Steve. Do better, buddy.

Captain America is sure of himself. Confident. Strong. Seemingly emotionally stable. Steven Grant Rogers? Probably still thinks of himself as that gangly sickly little man who everyone ignores... and is often baffled when pretty women look at him and flirt with him. He is a super-soldier. But he hasn’t been one for very long. Not actively.

Look at it this way: when overweight people lose weight, a switch doesn’t flip in their brain, and they automatically have good self-esteem or a good relationship with their body. Same with someone who is very sick for a long time and finally gets treatment and a cure. These things take their toll on someone’s mind, and Steve is no different. He spent so long being unnoticeable that even tho his body is hard and doesn’t get sick, and probably doesn’t age.. and probably has a bigger dick... it doesn’t mean he SEES that as who he is. 

And another thing. Steve doesn’t work out because he has to. The serum maintains his metabolism and stamina. Steve works out because now he CAN. I keep mentioning him being chronically ill. Because it is VERY important, he was sick for more years than not (again, NOT counting the time he was in the ice)... So now he can -just be and not have to worry about passing out or having an asthma attack or having a heart attack because of his blood pressure... he can run in the winter and not have to worry about catching a cold, of all things... Him working out is his way of celebrating that he CAN do those things now when he couldn’t before... This doesn’t change how he sees himself, though. You can celebrate the better you while still seeing yourself as the not-so-better you and still have self-esteem issues all the same. Those don’t just go away automatically. That’s not how human brains work. 

He’d rather live in Brooklyn, where he grew up than live in The Tower. He’d also rather do his morning runs through the city than work out in the gym that Tony built, so he can watch his city come alive (Both of these are canon and easily searchable on google)... I only mention this because it speaks to the kind of man Steve is. He loves people. And he loves watching people’s lives unfold... It makes him feel attached in a way that he usually can’t because he spent so long on ice that there’s a big disconnect in how he relates to people 

He isn’t going to care if his girl can “keep up.” No one, except Bucky, and maybe comic!Natasha can keep up with him. He doesn’t want another super soldier or spy as a partner. He wants someone he can hang up the mantle of Captain America and just be Steve Rogers, from Brooklyn, with. Period. Someone who will love him for who he is, not his serum, celebrity status, or paycheck. None of that. He would want someone who SEES him for who he is. Not what he can give them. And Steve isn’t fucking shallow, and to assume otherwise is really insulting to the man who grew up almost too disabled to live as long as he did. But somehow, his will to live got him far enough that now he is a super soldier and is Captain America.

Steve is also an artist and sees beauty absolutely everywhere, and yes, even the fat girl he passes on the street who stares at her shoes because she’s afraid to take up space but can’t help it. Steve understands, probably better than most, that bodies come in all shapes and sizes. Growing up, he wished people saw him instead of ignoring him. So fat girls? Are not off his radar. And they ain’t gotta be conventionally or “acceptably” pretty in order for him to notice them. 

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes:

Ok, so if you think Bucky is shallow just because he’s fit... then you don’t know the man at all.

He grew up with Steve as his best friend (at least in the MCU, anyway)... They were practically brothers, and since Bucky lost his mom at a very early age, guess who helped raise him before she passed? Yup, Mama Rogers. 

Sure, Bucky is often considered a womanizer in the MCU... But people are so afraid to portray good-looking men with fat women because it's often presented as a joke... because fat bodies are not seen as good bodies, so why would a fit man want to be with a person with a fat body?

The thing is tho, a lot of fit men are with women (and men and other genders) who have fat bodies. And not for fetish reasons either. It's because they are decent people who SEE their partner and not just the fat or the lack of fat or whatever else.

You also need to understand something about Bucky. Bucky of the 30/40s might have been a little full of himself, but he wasn’t shallow. If he were, he wouldn’t have been Steve’s friend. He wouldn’t have interacted with him in public. He wouldn’t have admitted to even knowing the scrawny, chronically ill man who insisted on picking fights with men who were much much bigger than him, simply because he saw an injustice that needed tending to. By all rights, Steve was embarrassing. But Bucky is better than that. And loved and accepted Steve for who he is. Period.

So, of course he’d be that way with women. He might not have committed to them, but Bucky loves women. And women come in all shapes and sizes. Why wouldn’t he like fat women, too?

Fast forward to Bucky with the metal arm. You know, the arm he needs, and if he didn’t have, he’d only have ONE ARM WHICH MEANS HE IS DISABLED, NO MATTER HOW ADVANCED THE DAMN ARM IS???????

Bucky isn’t a shallow man. And fit or not, he hates who Hydra made him into. Who cares about the chiseled abs or the ability to run side by side with Steve, or the ability to shoot a target in his peripheral vision accurately. They stole his life. They took everything from him. But what they didn’t take from him was the teaching of one Mama Rogers and the life lessons that come from being best friends with a disabled man. It might have taken him a bit to remember both of those things, but Bucky? Bucky loves women, and that will never change. No matter fat or thin. 

And have you seen Bucky’s thighs? If that man wasn’t built to bone fat chicks against walls, then I don’t know what even the point of those thighs even are... But he’s better than that. With who he is now? He isn’t just a one-night stand kind of guy. He’s in it for the long haul, and he isn’t going to let a little thing like someone’s weight deter him from seeing the beauty in them.

Steve and Bucky’s fit status and raging metabolism aren’t going to suddenly make them into shallow people who will only love or bone women who are of “acceptable” size when both men could literally easily carry an overweight girl over their shoulder like she is a 5lb sack of potatoes. Because of both of their life experiences, as both disabled or friends with someone disabled, and all that stuff that came with their lives... I really don’t see them ignoring a woman just because she’s not fit or just because she’s got a big belly or can’t run a mile in under a particular time.

You would also do well to remember that people can be healthy at any size, and someone’s weight doesn’t determine their health. Just like there are unhealthy fat people, there are also unhealthy thin people... and both can be unhealthy in the exact same way. And both Bucky and Steve are going to know this.

Requests are closed on this blog since I no longer use it. Please visit @carryonmyswansong if you'd like to request headcanons.