#i did put a filter on it bc shitty lighting

[treetreader]

i just finished the prettiest damn puzzle ever 💖 the artwork is called mosslands by nicole gustafsson

[fizzbot]

I literally just sent you one but what if. You did more. For me? :3333

9, 10, 11, 12, 18, 20, 21, 22, 24 VIOLENCE (please do not look at how I spelled it in the last one) ask game <333

3, 4, 13, 17 (This time with Octavia), 18 (Striker), 22 (Husk), 24 (This time with Fizz), 25 (This time with Charlie) for the other fandom ask game :333

JKLDHFJKLSDFHJKL NO ITS OK I LOVE GIVING YOU MY THINKIES!!!!!!!!!! :DDDDD lets do this!!!!!!!! >:333333

violence ask game og post here!

9. worst part of canon for hh, its the valangel plotline. god its so bad. you cant have a silly joke character also be a horrific abuser, you have to pick one. also dont hire rape fetish artists to handle a very real?? issue?? hello??? for hb,,,,,i gotta pick the same vein and give it to stolitz. I KNOW I KNOW i bitched a lot about them in the last answer post but JKLSDFJKLHJKf IT MAKES ME SO MAD. especially bc (much like hazbin) the original plot of the story is SO FUCKING GOOD. a group of low-ranking hell creatures run an illegal business where the access the human realm??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME. THATS SO GOOD. i love that its a direct parallel to hazbin's "solving the overpopulation" main plot JKLSHDFJKLDS ITS SO FUNNY AND SO PERFECT AND WE WERE ROBBED IN BOTH SHOWS FOR VIVZIES STUPID FUCKING FETISH BAIT

10. worst part of fanon the vivzie dickriders are so goddamn annoying. ive noticed that this is kind of a trend in any media that has a large "critic" audience. like it also totally happened with miraculous ladybug. but for some reason when a bunch of people hate on the show bc it sucks, mostly bc the creator also sucks, it spawns a parallel group of people who will defend anything and everything about it. like there are people who devote entire blogs and accounts to ""disproving"" vivzie allegations (which no one has ever done successsfully btw bc she did all of the shit shes being accused of). and theres people who will defend every shitty plotpoint and piece of bad writing and leave no room for nuance. like, yes, im critical of the shows, but i can admit theres good in them. obviously i enjoy them enough to have a sideblog for them. but like. these people dont understand that its GOOD to critisize media, ESPECIALLY media that you like. its important to acknowledge when certain trends can be seen in the work, because otherwise youre going to be more susceptible to being negatively influenced. like, vivzie has history of antiblackness/racism/antisemitism. is it a coincidence that these people are horribly misrepresented in the show?

11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered only 2 related to the hellaverse actually!! but ive had to put a whole bunch of different variants/spellings. i have radioapple and adamsapple blocked just cause theyre the most prevalent ships that i dont like.

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them MIMZY. i fucking love her SO MUCH!!!!!! :DDDDDDDD part of why i despise radioapple and its shippers so much is bc so much of the fandom hates her for ""interrupting their moment"". SHUT THE FUCK UP shes the best part of their song and also the best girl and shes so pretty and cute and youre all WRONG for hating her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! light of my life <333333333 spinoff show about just mimzy immediately

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on... rosie x mimzy :(((((((( they dont even have a proper, fully agreed upon shipname. i thought you all loved old women yuri :/// also POLYVEES????? i am SOOOOO sick of the ""vel and her gay dads"" shit. it is so goddamn annoying. VOX CALLS HER "MY DEAR". VAL CALLS HER "BABYDOLL." theyre all fucking.

20. part of canon you found tedious or boring honestly? all of hazbin. the heaven arc was just SO rushed and still felt like the same thing was happening every episode. helluva never/hasnt become tedious to me just bc its so much more episodic i think

21. part of canon you think is overhyped the fuckin. shipping. stolitz in helluva is SOOOOOO hyped and for NOTHING and the whole war was hyped in hazbin and yet was also so incredibly nothing. OH AND PENTIOUS' REDEMPTION??? everyones acting like its the most interesting plot twist ever as if it doesnt suck objectively

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores loona and via ://// the only time i see them talked about is when people are shipping them which is gross. i really really really want to see more of them and have them be developed more and given personalities outside their shitty fathers.

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse VALANGEL. OH MY GODDDDDDDDD i fucking HATE hearing ""hot takes"" about that arc. THEYRE NEVER HOT TAKES. EVER. theyre just excusing vals actions or excusing VIVS actions in making it. I HATE IT SO MUCH

fandom ask game og post here!

3. NoTP? OOH. i have a bunch. ummm. literally any striker ship that isnt blitzker. striker x chaz, striker x moxxie, striker x millie, striker x sallie, striker x stella, etc etc i could literally list them all day. i hate all of them. every single one cannot work without mischaracterizing him to hell. he works with blitz because theyre equals and they LIKE EACH OTHER. OH DUH radioapple!!!! literally biggest NOTP ever i fucking hate them. i hate adamsapple, and cherrisnake, anddddd.......there are obviously more but im blanking. some i dislike for more innocent reasons. like any ship with tex and/or any ship with sallie? i hate all of them just because those characters are so. Nothing. they have 0 substance apart from being sexualized

4. Is there a popular pairing you don't necessarily dislike but aren't too invested in? OH well i guess i kinda answered this above hsdjkf. i guess my hottest take is fallenstar (chaggie) and m&m. i simply do not give a shit about them. i care a LITTLE more for vega n charlie, but like. pretty much JUST because theyre sapphic. what does m&m have going for them, they are literally textbook boring married couple. who give a shit

13. What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day? sjkdfhjksdf ive doodled them beforrreeeee but ive gotta draw more verbie <////3 im thinkin about making a finished piece for them they are CUTE.......otherwise i think ive drawn/written about like everyone i care for sjkdfhjsdkf

17. What's a book, movie, or show you think [Octavia] would like? AWW this is cute....ummmm!!!!! a piece of lore i just made up for her is that i think shes rlly interested in human culture. like she likes movies from earth, and literature from up there, so on and so forth <3333 shes really into horror movies but specifically the old and bad ones <3333 she will rattle off 100000 facts to you about how they made that fake blood for that scene or "did you know they used a REAL chainsaw?". i think she has an affinity for the macabre BUT i also think she has a bit of a soft spot. she was kind of robbed of a proper childhood a little bit (as were most goetians) so shes a sucker for sappy soft stuff too. she casually watches mlp or care bears and plays lots of minecraft and terraria <3

18. Type [Striker's]'s name and tell us what the autocomplete suggests as the next word shjkdfhjksdfhjkfsd ok so i wasnt sure whether this meant using google autocomplete or phone autocomplete. i tried google first and my only result was 'striker helluva boss' cause thats what i google for art ref. but then i tried it on my phone and. uh........................................................................this is so embarassing. i pulled out my phone and pressed the middle autocomplete button a few times and it landed on 'striker tying up blitzos arms'...........LISTEN. IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS WRITING DOWN THIS ART IDEA AND IT REMEMBERED. WHY DID IT REMEMBER

22. Give us a headcanon for [Husk] UMMMM!!!!!!! it is so muc harder to come up with these for characters i dont relate to as much..........i am so sorry but i have literally thought for so long and cant come up with anything that you havent already said <////////////////////333

24. What's your favourite thing about [Fizz]? i remember really not thinking anything of it at the time but i LOVE the transition of how he is in public/at ozzies to how he is at home!!!! its really interesting to see him soften up and i think theres a lot to be said about the persona he puts on in public that i just KNOW the show isnt gonna explore. i dont think hes the. best anxiety rep, but i do think there are moments where its compelling. OH and i LOVE watching his energy bounce off blitz, its super fun :3

25. What's your least favourite thing [Charlie] said or did? grgghgg ohh girl,,,,,you had so much wasted potential ://// this is a lot more nitpicky than my answer for stolas but its easily that one moment in ep 4. where she WHINES and CRIES like a BABY over angel and vega carries her away. the infantilization is SOOOO irritating, esp bc literally in the NEXT EPISODES they try to portray her as a strong and confident good leader???? its so pathetic and SO frustrating especially when she could easily make it up to angel by KILLING HIS RAPIST.

WAHHHJSKDFHJKLD THANKS FOR ASKINGGGGG i love getting out all my thinkies :33333

[blog-of-frontiers]

Anyway girls.... Check Please/All For the Game live reaction starts here

Blacklist "college sports fuckery" if you want but don't because I'm funny

Installment 1: CP Episodes 1&2 and The Foxhole Court Chapter 1

(under the cut bc it's very long. Also warning for flashing GIF)

Hey Eric Bittle is a very cute young man and I am adopting him. But also you can tell this comic started in (checks date) wait 2017?? I thought for sure he'd be saying ermahgerd here

Southern people calling northerners Yankees.... Like I know Bitty is a good boy but. Triggering behavior

Like I read a romance book that takes place post-civil war and the heroine is a southern woman who tracks down the hero bc she thinks he killed her brother in the war... Anyway long story short she was REAL proud to be southern and no they did not bring up slavery the whole book

Anyway I hate the word Yankees it makes me feel like you're... You Know

One of the first instances we see of Shitty he's calling Bitty "ya lil fucker" sir, your hand in marriage NOW!!

Also I'm surprised there weren't more instances of people making Bitty-and-Shitty jokes??? They are literally rhyming

RANSOM SAYS PUSSY?? TWICE RIGHT IN HIS INTEO PANEL HELLO??

Okay! Young love!

Conclusion: they are baby

.... Why am I scared to open this kindle book

I'm doing the hype up hyperventilation here we go

"Neil Josten let his cigarette burn to the filter without taking a drag. He didn't want the nicotine; he wanted the acrid smoke that reminded him of his mother. If he inhaled slowly enough, he could almost taste the ghost of gasoline and fire." so it really is like this from the very beginning

You put the killing thing in your mouth and you don't give it the power to kill you etc etc

Hello 2013 I've missed you

But really though I tried to read that to Roommate and I literally could not get through it. Everyone ask @esgaypism. I'm roping you into this

"It fell to the bleachers between his shoes and was whisked away by the wind. He glanced up at the sky, but the stars were washed out behind the glare of stadium lights." "A crew was already dismantling the court, unhinging the plexiglass walls and rolling Astroturf over the hard floor. When they were done it'd be a soccer field again" Nora Nora Nora. I am dying to know if we are fucking outside or inside. What is the purpose of putting an Exy field outside instead of inside except to have this scene where Neil is pensively smoking because he can't do that inside. I am in hell and my brain is also in hell

She wants me to believe that this town has less than nine hundred people and can still afford, and can scrounge up the players, to play this highly dangerous, clearly expensive, and /less than 25 year old sport--/

22 names in eight years... I love Neil Josten, I adore Neil Josten, he IS at the end of the day somebody's edgy 2013 oc

Immediately we know from this first chapter that his mom is dead and he associates her with cigarettes and gasoline, and that his dad is in prison and Neil will quite Literally Die if they meet again. Okay!

Again... If we are outside why is he trying to escape through the locker room... You manufacture scenarios to achieve images that appear in your head. I know this well

"Andrew Minyard didn't look like much in person, blonde and five feet even, but Neil knew better. Andrew was the Foxes' freshman goalkeeper and their deadliest investment." gotta admit. Short King Actual Murderer Rights. If I actually liked Andrew this moment would mean more to me

Every time Nora calls them "man" I feel the need to bite something. At 18 you are a baby. These are kids, my god

Girl there is literally so much exposition and backstory here. Also why are you, a man, watching so closely the careers of other men,

The fact that there are EXY LITTLE LEAGUES--

I was expressing my love of Kevin Day to Roommate and they were like "of course you love him, he's you" now what the fuck does that mean

"If Kevin remembered him, he'd know that file was a lie. He'd know about Neil's little league teams. He'd remember the scrimmage interrupted by that man's murder." I fully forgot about this. This is an insane thing to write and then immediately move on from what the fuck

Wymack... Dilf of the year 2013 I love this man

"It sounded like a dream; it tasted like damnation." Hey, it's the quote from the 5,000 orange and white and black edits!

Well! Um, this was not as nice and even as I would like, but as I recall the CP episodes get longer as they go, and I'll get quicker on the AFTG chapters as they get less Expository. For now though I'm going to rest my brain, and I leave you with this summary thus far:

Bitty: howdy YouTube! I'm a vlogger from the south, and I play hockey, and I'm clearly gay and I'm Not like the other boys. I hope they like me...

Wymack: join my sports team

Neil: NO I am eighteen and I have a batshit amount of trauma and I'm going to explain all of it and who two of the other major characters are in excruciating detail via internal narration

Wymack: join my sports team

Neil: fine. FUCK! Okay.

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 4342 ⚬ warnings: brief drug mention ⚬ genres: mainly just fluff! college/uni!au

✧✎ synopsis: your longtime campus crush just received an interesting dare: to ask you out on a date. while the circumstances are questionable, you aren’t going to decline. maybe this is your ticket to romance. 

✧✎ a/n: if this title or plot sounds familiar, then that’s bc i finally accomplished a goal of mine: to rewrite i dare you. this was a fic i originally wrote in 2016!! i did change some aspects, so not everything is identical. PLS ENJOY ;w;

The bells to the café door jingled.

Normally, you wouldn’t be so attentive about the customers filtering in and out, but at that moment, your gaze shot over the lid of your laptop like a harpoon. It was roughly the right time, the right day. According to your judgement, this was when they usually came for their morning coffees. Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seungcheol: a very popular trio amongst the likings of your campus.  

Jeonghan was a nursing student. Clean-cut, charming to a degree of annoyance, and always ordered a boring black coffee. The second boy, Joshua, was cute enough to stop you in your tracks and force a double-take. However, he liked mathematics, numbers, weird formulas which looked more torture than learning. He preferred lattes with foam. And then there was Seungcheol. You wouldn’t call him your true love, because you didn’t know him all that well, and as far as he was concerned you were the lunatic who accidentally set pages of Joshua’s chemistry homework on fire. But that was a story for another day (you haven’t been near that Yankee candle since).

Nonetheless, you were crushing on him. Badly. To the point where you arrived at the café early, pretending to type a document on your laptop, just so you could flit your eyes every so often at his table while he slurped his chocolate mocha. You even had their scheduling memorized. It was a bit weird, and you would be the first to admit such a thing, but nothing was going to thwart you from daydreaming about those eyes of his. Or that dazzling smile. His short bursts of laughter which were usually tweezed out at Jeonghan pulling some stupid prank on Joshua. Everything about you adored him.

The trio gathered at their usual table, sat obliquely to your nook by the window. You had opened an older document that was already finished, pretended to tap against the keys while they ate a small breakfast before class. Something was different. They were giggling more than usual. And you couldn’t help but blatantly stare with concern when Joshua tore open a salt packet and poured it straight on his tongue. Jeonghan was grinning so widely that you were positive his face must be aching, and Seungcheol cackled into his fist while Joshua immediately grabbed for his latte.

A game. They were playing some sort of game.

Once Joshua had recovered, you noted that he began surveying the café, running his narrowed gaze to each table.

The second he found you huddled in the corner, attempting to shrink behind your laptop and pretend your presence was nothing but invisible, Joshua leaned into Seungcheol’s side to make a very smiley whisper. Pretend I’m working, pretend I’m working on something so damn important I can’t look up for even a second, you reiterated to yourself quietly, ignoring the panic ballooning inside you. A minute later, someone had just pulled out the chair across from you. They sat down with a slight groan, clasping their hands together.

Of course, it was Seungcheol.

“Hey.” He said, watching as you tentatively lowered the lid of your laptop, probably wondering why the hell you looked so stunned.

“What are you, um, doing?” You asked.

Seungcheol could not be sitting across from you just because he wanted to. It was impossible. And as much as that stung to admit, you knew the truth was simply that. He was definitely put up to this.

“We know each other pretty well, correct?” The boy completely ignored your question. “I know that you set Josh’s chem notes on fire. We take toxicology together. Need I say more?”

“Wow,” you replied, twiddling your fingers anxiously under the table, “that’s a whole two things. I can’t even count that high.”

“We can’t all be mathematicians,” Seungcheol moved the conversation along while he angled a white jar of sugar, “and I guess I should tell you, I’m in a predicament, which involves you.”

Your hands squeezed together so firmly that they nearly moulded into permanent fists. Seungcheol was staring at you now rather than flickering his gaze between the objects on the table, with those eyes as dark as sapphire. You were burning up, sweltering, felt like you needed to burst from your clothes and bathe in ice.

“A predicament?”

Seungcheol folded his muscular arms on the table and nodded. “Yeah, I got a dare from Josh. To ask you out. The thing is, I’m not supposed to tell you. But you seem like a nice girl.”

You swallowed very tautly and pushed down the lid of your laptop a little more. Over Seungcheol’s shoulder, you spotted both Joshua and Jeonghan observing, chuckling amongst themselves.

“Another thing,” Seungcheol added, raking a hand through his black locks, “I don’t want to lose to tweedle-dumb and tweedle-idiot over there – you can decide who’s who – so you should accept.”

Straightening your posture against the chair, you decided to spell out the situation, more for your sake than Seungcheol’s. “Let me get this straight. You got dared to ask me out. You have nothing better to do tomorrow night, so you accepted it. And I don’t have a choice.”

“Your wording is a bit disparaging. But essentially, yeah.” He leaned back with a gorgeous smile, turning up his palm. “So, down?”

At that moment, you could not believe the universe had just ladled this ridiculous possibility into your lap. A date with your biggest crush on campus. A date that so many people would be wrangling your neck to steal from you – even if it was based on an innocuous little game which Seungcheol refused to submit because he was too competitive at heart. It might not have been your most prideful choice in life, but you accepted. Any chance to spend the night with him would not be wasted as long as the offer stood.

However, you had one condition.

“I’ll do it,” you grinned, watching the boy’s expression perk like a child who just got handed a cookie, “on the account of another dare. Which you’ll find out on our fake date.”

“Fine.” Seungcheol shrugged, sliding his phone across the table so that you could enter your number. He stood up afterward, on the verge of returning to his friends when he suddenly paused.

“See you tomorrow night, sweetheart.”

There was such a rush of butterflies in your stomach, you were surprised one hadn’t flown out your mouth.

You didn’t know why you cared so much about a date that was most likely intended to humiliate you. Was Joshua still not over those chemistry sheets? Even after you spent a good two hours in the library attempting to rewrite them with your nicest, smoothest gel pel? Thoughts of what to wear, your style of makeup, and which perfume you should choose amongst the few on your dresser were awfully overwhelming. In fact, you were almost late to the park, the area Seungcheol had picked as a rendezvous point.

He rose from the bench in front of the duck pond once you arrived, checking the time on his wrist while making a tsking sound.

“Four and a half minutes late,” Seungcheol said, shaking his head, “you’re not making a good first impression, my lady.”

Obviously, you weren’t going to admit how you were stressing about a technically-fake date. In the end, you threw on a simple outfit and applied some lipstick on your way out the door, shoving the tube into a small purse hung over your shoulder. It’s not like he was treating you to a five-star restaurant by romantic candlelight. But if he ever did, you had the perfect outfit planned.

“Well, I’m here now. And with your dare.” You grinned.

Seungcheol stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Let’s hear it.”

“I dare you to buy me a week of coffee.”

At first, Seungcheol didn’t utter a thing. But then he erupted into a fit of laughter until his cheeks turned rosy like peaches.

“That’s not how this works,” he half-sighed, half-chuckled while removing a tear from his eye, “I’m rejecting it.”

“You can’t reject it! You definitely owe me. I didn’t let you lose to tweedle-dumb or tweedle-idiot. Plus, it’s low to ask someone out on a dare. I didn’t even have to show up.”  Ensuring your tone was confident, you folded your arms over your chest, raised your brow at the boy, and observed him as he tapped his foot in contemplation.

“Can I have time to consider?” Seungcheol asked.

While it was tough to capitulate so easily and let him have his way, you didn’t want to spend the entirety of your night standing next to a slimy pond, debating the regulations. So you bit the bullet. Besides, Seungcheol announced that there was a party he needed to stop by, that there was a particular someone to which he owned money. It was a short walk to this brick house that reverberated with music, cars stalled up and down the street while a flood of strobing colours illuminated in the windows. Seungcheol knocked on the door quite loudly, and then he reached for your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours. You shot him a puzzled glance just as the door swung open, the stench of marijuana mingling with the cool, night air.  

“Well, well, well,” a fox-eyed boy murmured after taking a long puff from his blunt, “Choi Seungcheol. It’s about damn time.”

“I was in the neighbourhood. Heard you and Soonyoung were lighting this place up. What a good turnout, huh?”

“Mmhm,” the other boy hummed unenthusiastically, leaning his wide shoulder against the doorframe, “you got the money or no?”

Seungcheol laughed. “C’mon, Wonwoo. We don’t even get to go inside? Hang out for a bit? Have a drink? You’re a shitty host.”

Wonwoo slid a finger under his chin, rubbing in contemplation. It was starting to get colder out, for you could hear the tree leaves rustling together as a wind whisked through the dark. You squished yourself a bit closer into Seungcheol’s side, and to your surprise, he let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Finally, Wonwoo concurred, sticking the rolled paper back between his lips while stepping aside with an inviting gesture.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” the boy muttered, “but I’ll be coming to find you in about ten minutes. And I wanna see cash.”

“What’s his problem?” You whispered by Seungcheol’s ear as he guided you around an illy lit corner, into the kitchen.

His warm breath feathered your ear as he said, “I lost a couple bets to him and was slow getting the money back.” Seungcheol then grabbed two solo cups organized in a stack on the counter, filling each with a red, fruit-mixed alcohol which sat in two glass bowls.

“Don’t worry, he’s harmless.”

You accepted the cup and took a sip. “Oh, in case you needed to beat him up? I don’t know,” you lilted,  “he looks pretty sturdy.”

“Are you kidding?” Seungcheol gawked.

He slapped his drink down on the counter and threw his jacket over the back of a chair. With a perplexed, is this man crazy expression, you watched him roll up his sleeve and flex his bicep.

“Go ahead,” the boy grinned, “you’ll see.”

You made sure to roll your eyes and sigh incredibly loud in order to really establish your indifference. Meanwhile, your inner-self was fizzling like a carbonated soda. Grabbing onto Seungcheol’s muscle, you pressed down, forcing back a surprised chuckle at the fact his arm was hard as a rock. In that moment your meter of attraction toward the boy was ticking so absurdly you thought it could break.

“Okay, I’ll give it to you, Seungcheol. You’re strong.”

He tugged his sleeve back down and slid into the jacket again, a very brash smirk beaming on his face. You couldn’t decipher if he’d actually been attempting to impress you or if that was just a display of his cockiness. And yet, you didn’t really care which category it fell into, because you were still blissfully afloat thinking about Seungcheol’s arms. You lifted your drink and took another sip, swishing the sweet but tangy flavour between your cheeks. At that moment, a man you didn’t recognize attempted to scoot behind you – except there was definitely enough room for him to get by without planting his hands on your hips and squeezing them.

“Hey! What the hell?” You squeaked, quickly turning around on your heel to see the crookedly amused look he stared at you with.

“What?” He somehow had the audacity to respond.

But you weren’t going to accept his disgraceful maneuvers, and neither was Seungcheol. He abandoned his cup on the counter and pushed up his sleeves.

“Did you just put your hands on her?” Came his demand. It didn’t sound like the normal, relaxed Seungcheol who liked his jokes, but someone with an unnerving amount of authority and fearlessness.

“I-I was trying to get by.” The man stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of confrontation. He was already stepping backward as Seungcheol approached him.

“Don’t touch other people like that,” Seungcheol admonished him in a deep, staid voice, then pointed toward the threshold of the kitchen, “just get out, man. Seriously. Don’t even go near her.” And like a saddened puppy who received a scolding from its owners to lay down in the pen, the man slinked away without another word.

You were unsure of what to say to Seungcheol for diminishing the situation. Folding your arms tightly, you nodded at him.

“Thanks.”

Wonwoo came wandering into the kitchen. His eyes brightened the moment he saw Seungcheol, and he rubbed his fingers together to wordlessly convey that he wanted his money now.

“It’s alright,” Seungcheol gave you a soft smile while he revealed a large wad of cash from his pocket, “he was a weirdo.”

“Yeah.” You laughed as Seungcheol handed the sum to his friend, who fleshed out the paper notes to count the correct amount.

It took you a moment to realize that Seungcheol’s arm had wrapped back around your shoulders, this time a bit more securely.  When you leaned into him, it wasn’t because you felt a draft or a chill, but because he was comfortable. He felt and smelled like safety.

Later that night, you returned to the park, throwing stones into the duck pond while the moon was hidden behind a thin curtain of clouds. Seungcheol claimed that he could throw his stones farther than yours, which prompted your short-lived competition. It had ended so abruptly because you ran out of stones to throw. At one point you tried tossing sticks, but they didn’t travel as far, and they definitely didn’t break the surface of the water with a satisfying plop.

“Hey,” Seungcheol said, nudging your elbow excitedly, “I dare you to get in the pond.”

“No way!” You cackled. “It’s freezing. And that pond is nasty.”

“Just dip your toe in or something.”

“You dip your toe in!”

“I don’t wanna take off my socks.”

You huffed, a plume of your breath escaping into the crisp air.

“Well, we’re at a crossroads then, aren’t we?”

Rather than continue bickering about the dare, you were starting to feel these annoying hunger pangs. You didn’t eat dinner because of how nervous you were toward this fake date (which was rapidly morphing into a very real date) with Seungcheol. The most you ate today had been some toast and pieces of apple your roommate cut the night before. Directly on cue, your stomach gurgled, and your face swelled hot with embarrassment. Seungcheol grinned.

“Hungry?”

“Starving, more like.” You corrected him.

He pulled out the white fabric liners of his pockets, revealing they were completely empty. “All my cash went to Wonwoo.”

You flashed a playful smile while repeating his statement from earlier. “Oh, wow. Not being able to cover the meal on a first date? You’re not making a good impression, sweetheart.”

In an instant, Seungcheol had snatched your hand, interlocking your fingers together warmly. He began tugging you out of the park and onto a familiar street, where there was a twenty-four-hour diner that the students absolutely loved. Admittedly, you had been there a few times. Once as a giggly drunk who just wanted a waffle plate at three in the morning, and also as a struggling student who was desperate for a cup of coffee in order to power through a procrastinated essay. Now, it seemed you were returning for a date.

“I’ll pay you back, promise.” Seungcheol said as the server placed a nacho platter onto the table. “It’s my new priority.”

The diner was quiet and mostly empty apart from a group of three seated at another table. You didn’t realize just how hungry you were until that first taste of melted cheese, salsa, and seared chicken hit your mouth. Seungcheol didn’t like black olives, so he kept picking them off. You were eating too ravenously to inspect your food.

“You’re taking the olives off?” You smirked. “Baby.”

Seungcheol scoffed. “I am not a baby.” He looked up at you as he shoved another delicious chip in his mouth. “And I know it gives you some sick, twisted pleasure to say that. You should be ashamed.”

Nearly choking on the water you just sipped, you dropped the  cup back on the table to cough a few times.

“You know what’s sick? The fact I’m paying.”

The boy reached for his glass of coca cola. “Yeah, but technically this isn’t a real date. So, doesn’t count.”

“Really?” Raising a questioned eyebrow, you watched Seungcheol take a long gulp from his drink. “Are you willing to say that with your entire chest? That this isn’t a real date?”

And in that moment, Seungcheol genuinely seemed to have met a stupor. In fact, there was a red tint dusting the crest of each his cheeks. He leaned back in the booth, folded his arms over his chest, and pursed his lips. You waited patiently for his response, lifting a nacho to your mouth while threads of cheese dangled in the air.

A smile broke through his stiff, musing expression.

“Okay,” he nodded his head, “maybe this is a real date,” (your heart impossibly fluttered), “you could be right about that.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You answered.

In truth, you couldn’t have been more delighted to hear Seungcheol agree, because if he hadn’t, you would have dined and dashed, fled straight out the restaurant in a haze of shame and embarrassment. In the span of just a few hours, your attraction toward this boy had impressively expanded like a sponge soaking up water. Before, you weren’t positive that he could be your true love. It was mostly a running joke between you and… well, yourself. However, this one night was proving that perhaps your joke could have some actual weight to it. And as Seungcheol continued to make you laugh, choke on your food, stare at him in complete adoration like he was a crowned jewel, you completely lost track of time.

It wasn’t until you burst into another frenzy of laughter at his story and spilt water all down your shirt that you finally checked your phone. Almost one in the morning. The server whisked your cutlery and plates away with a tired expression. You tipped generously, feeling rather guilty for creating such a racket at this hour.

“Do you want my jacket?” Seungcheol asked as you prepared to leave. There was a huge water stain soaking through your shirt.

“A-Are you sure?” You asked him, pulling a few strands of hair from your face. He nodded, already wrestling the jacket off.

“Go change, sweetheart,” Seungcheol told you so casually that you couldn’t hide this blatant look of surprise, “I’ll wait outside.”

Entering a washroom stall, you peeled the damp shirt over your head and folded it to pack nicely within your purse. You then slipped into Seungcheol’s jacket, which had this wonderful, warm fleece patched to the inside. It was soft against your bare skin, and it smelled like a fragrant hint of his cologne. After spending an extra moment freshening up at the sink, you wandered back into the cool night, where Seungcheol was leaning against a street pole. You weren’t sure if your eyes were playing tricks at the late hour, or if he’d actually given you a very smug, very relishing once-over.

Considering you had class early the next day, you asked Seungcheol if he’d be willing to walk you home. He obliged, and you paced together in comfortable silence until reaching the bridge. It arched over a swirling, gushing river which ran through the city, the current black as kohl and reflecting the lights of the nearby architecture. In the daytime this bridge wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was a beautiful vantage point during the night; a place to watch the city sparkle and flash like the cosmos.

“Hey,” Seungcheol whispered, grabbing your hand, “I have another dare for you, since you chickened out on the pond.”

You looked at the mischief compiling in his gaze. “What?”

“Climb up there.”

Seungcheol pointed toward a thick, metal beam that slanted upward, like a ramp. It flattened out at the top, and sometimes when you walked by during the day, there would be a few students sitting down after class, eating sandwiches or cracking open sodas. A placement of bars was set behind, only wide enough to stick your leg through. You glanced back at Seungcheol and nodded.

“Okay, fine.”

And so you began to climb up the slanted beam, feeling the breeze nip at your cheeks, your hair, like the smallest of kisses. At the flattened section, you turned around and looked down at Seungcheol, feeling like the empress of a powerful kingdom. His face ignited in the moonlight. He was smiling very wide as you stuck out your tongue.

“Easy. I dare you to climb up here.”

Seungcheol shook his head. “I, uh, can’t.”

“Why not?” You laughed, folding your arms. “Scared?”

“No, I just—I twisted my ankle, so I can’t.”

“When was that?”

“You weren’t looking.”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to tease him. Taking the zipper dangling from his jacket, you began to pull it down slowly, revealing a hidden amount of skin which turned the boy’s face an adorable pink.

“If you come up here, I’ll take the jacket all the way off.” You sang in a promiscuous tone, lifting up the strap of your bra and snapping it. Seungcheol grinned, cupping a hand over his gaze.

“No way. I’m not falling into a trap like that.”

“Fine,” you huffed, lowering to your butt and carefully scooting your way down the metallic beam, “you missed out.”

Seungcheol merely held his tongue; however, he did take the zipper on his jacket and pull it back up, right to your chin, hiding the expanse of flesh from the bright moonlight. You weren’t sure what courageous energy had just taken over your body. In fact, you’d probably regret such a thing by the time your alarm clock erupted tomorrow morning, pulling you from the pit of your sleep.

“I don’t want you getting cold.” He said. “And I can’t believe you nearly gave me a strip tease from the support beam of a bridge. That’s a first.”

“I’m just making sure you don’t forget this date.” You chuckled, half in nonsense, half in truth.

As he promised, Seungcheol walked you back to the house and made sure the door unlocked using the spare key under the letter box. Thankfully, your roommate left the lights of the front porch on, the bulbs now swathed in grey moths. It was a strange night. A night that wouldn’t have happened if not for the antics of Seungcheol and his two equally competitive friends. Maybe there was a positive side to burning Joshua’s chemistry notes, though you weren’t sure he’d be thrilled to hear you admit that. A game of I Dare You, turned into a fake date, turned into a real date, turned into a sweet affection.

You yawned, feeling the faint glisten of tears stretch in your eyes. “I had fun. And I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in toxicology.”

“With my jacket.” He reminded you.

“Yes, of course. With your jacket.”

And while you expected Seungcheol to simply bid his goodnight and perhaps take a late bus home, firing question after question of why he decided to accept such a stupid dare as he stared out the window, you were surprised when he reached for your hand.

“By the way,” he said, “I accept.”

You crinkled your nose. “Accept what?”

“The dare. I’ll buy you coffee every morning this week.”

“Oh!” There was a small flare crackling to life in your eyes as you recalled the original dare of the night. “That’s right. I forgot.”

“Yeah, I’ll do it.” Seungcheol agreed. He then squeezed your hand. “On the account of one very simple condition.”

“I don’t think you can do that. Doesn’t seem rule-abiding.”

The boy discarded your comment. Instead, his grasp became tighter around your hand. He pulled you swiftly into his chest and stared straight into your helpless, panicking eyes as though he were going to confess something profound and utterly dire.

He smirked. “I want you to kiss me each time.”

Seungcheol lifted his brow in anticipation of your response, which was an undoubted agreement. Probably the fastest, easiest agreement you had ever made in your life. He moved in close to your ear, whispering something about how you should meet at the café tomorrow morning and walk to the lecture hall together, though you were ultimately buzzing and experiencing such a bold heartbeat that you missed most of the details. When he pulled away, you smiled.

“That sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Stepping off the porch, he turned back with a wave.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

✧✎ a/n: the reason i wanted to rewrite this fic was bc i still rly enjoy the concept. however, i cannot STAND my old style of writing, thus i decided to just rewrite the fic and appease the nagging in my head lol. this is how i would have written this fic today if i hadn’t already done so four years ago. i’m also questioning the possibility of rewriting love café for jeonghan (pls don’t go reading it if u haven’t already)  but that would take much longer ,,,, JUST AN IDEA THOUGH. i hope you enjoyed!!

[scandeniall]

no face no case

pairing suna x reader

summary/warnings: yeah suna is a PRO at the no face no case type shit. 18+ talks about sex, the devils lettuce (for like 2 seconds and uses the word “maybe” this was also written before that weird hyperfixation with him being a stoner which i have thoughts of annoyance towards but w/e), hes annoying

note: this was supposed to be a short drabble but ended up being over 1k words. brevity is not my strong suit.

update: i did bf texts based off this

Suna is a pro at no face no case. Like this man will hide your relationship for months (if you’re ok bc he’s not a dick). Part of it is because he’d had shitty experiences in relationships before and the other part is just bc as a pro player he didn’t need ppl in his private life. It’d be somewhere between 8-10 months until your face is ever posted even on snap and even then the pic is mad blurry. But the caption would be something like “kinda hot or whatever” or “Alexa play nasty by DaBaby to where you literally have to force him to change the caption bc SIR”. He’d definitely go post that same pic with that caption on finsta and add like 🥵💦to it.

Anyways, he’s really good at the whole deal. Like during the time before you two were a couple and kinda just hanging and dating around casually he’d talk about other people he found hot with his bros and maybe go on the occasional failed date (it failed bc he didn’t even put in the effort to get to know the person. Just “uh uh” “yeah that’s cool or whatever” and he’s super dry with it)

Anyways once you’re actually a couple whenever someone would show him a picture of someone he thought was hot he’d just shrug like no comment. After practices they guys would be like “yo you wanna go get drinks or hop on the game,” and he’d just say he was busy. Anyways that same night on his priv story he’d post some black and white filtered video of him kissing up and down your neck. And it was obvious that this mystery person was straddling him too.

Washio swipes up like: 🤨

Komori: did you mean to post that

He just leaves it on read and goes back to enjoying his night. After it was obvious to everyone on his priv/finsta that he was indeed in a relationship his story almost always has a flick of his hand on your ass. No caption, just his hand gripping through your jeans/sweats/ his boxers you name it.

Suna might smoke on occasion. Only during the off season though bc he is not dumb now. (sometimes osamu comes through but you’re never around). Anyways he’s the type to have some led strip lights in his room lining the ceilings and whether you smoked or not he’d invite you over. The room is all hazy and it’s like damn bitch are you tryna hot box. Anyways during those nights he’s so high and is slightly less intentional with keeping your identity hidden. Thankfully the lights and smoked out room does a pretty good job for him. Bc he kinda just sets up his phone has you on his lap and just likes make out real nice and slow. (he accidentally posts a part of it while high. He thinks it’s on video but he recorded on Snapchat. Be thankful it snap only records so much before cutting off)

Other times y’all would just be lounging on the couch passing a joint back and forth and he’d be like “put your legs on my lap so I cant take a pic” after he gets it he pushes your legs off and puts his on you instead lol.

He likes just vibing in the house to music with him playing his game and you just doing you. He’s not paying any type of attention to you but whenever you get up to go get some food or to pee he’d post some shit like “my date really left me? Can’t trust anyone can you.” Will record certain parts in songs (it be the dumbest parts too) and be like “I dedicate this to the 1 who left me to eat”

He’s also SO annoying that his lock screen is a pic of you both. One you had taken with self timer. You’re sitting in his lap smiling and he’s kinda just looking at you like “wow I rly like you”. But anyways back to him being annoying— he has emojis covering both of your faces. The clown emoji to be exact. To go along with that sometimes he’d post more couple-y picks on his priv but again there’s an emoji. Once he even used the Snapchat paint feat to draw you on an outfit over the one he had and captioned “mine knows how to dress 🥵”

Whenever he did want to maybe post some cute pic without all the jokes it’d be something like you’re holding hands or if he fell asleep in your lap he’d post the pic of him in your lap and your hand is visible in his hair

Yeah he also never even mentions your name around his friends. It’s either some nickname like “loser” or he’s just like my s/o. His contact name for you is “im dating?” (Even once your identity isn’t a secret he doesn’t change it to your name it just kinda changes to “I’m engaged?” To “im married?”)

Ok so even once he posts that blurry pic on his public verified account all those months ago he doesn’t really do much more than that. Like folks want an HD pic of you and him? Yeah good luck. He’d occasionally post a ig story of y’all meal together if it was looking extra tasty but that’s about it. People would kinda forget he’s even in the relationship until like your anniversary and he STILL doesn’t feed into the mystery. He got you a gold chain with a charms of his initials. He’d post another dumb black and white filtered pic with his hand resting on the crook of your neck and his thumb near the letters with some caption like “365? That’s wild” at some point after that he’d actually post a real pic with you two bc while it was fun and cool for a while sometimes he does want to actually be a good bf and share some of the dumb shit you two do together (like the time he made a PowerPoint of all the reasons you should buy him a ps5. He recorded all your bored and unamused reactions too. “Because I’m hot and dick game kinda decent,” is not enough of a reason to drop $500+ on you sir esp because hes the type to sometimes just stop mid stroke like “whew yeah ima need you to top now” like the audacity)

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

HOLD ON bc everyone is talking abt imagining Hawk and Daniel bonding and getting close with each other (which i love it’s such a cute concept!)

But can we just imagine Demetri AND Johnny finally growing on each other! like imagine Demetri apologizes for the yelp review to Johnny and then Johnny laughs about it and proceeds to apologize back abt all the shitty things his students did to Demetri and they just bond bc Demetri opens up to Johnny about Hawk and the way he feels preferably that he had a literal dying love for him. It would be amazing to see Johnny and Demetri get close especially since Demetri practically hated the man in s1 and 2! Both Daniel and Johnny feel like dads with their two gay karate boys and they love them very much! Can you please elaborate on this imagine because I don’t even know where to start!

YES YES YES watching these two finally come around to each other would be pretty amusing, but also very gratifying, to watch and I am LIVING FOR IT.

I think I touched on it in one of my other ask posts (maybe the general headcanon one?), but the way I see Demetri finally warming up to Johnny is when he sees how surprisingly sympathetic Johnny is to Hawk’s abuse and manipulation at Kreese’s hands--because Johnny went through the same thing. Like Demetri is fully expecting Johnny to be dismissive and kind of mean about it and give Hawk a hard time for following Kreese like an adoring puppy for so long, but as soon as Johnny sees Hawk having a panic attack or something similar because something in their dojo training triggered memories of his time in Cobra Kai with Kreese, his demeanor completely changes. He just kind of hurries Hawk away from the other students and Demetri overhears him saying kind of quietly and urgently “You take a breather whenever the hell you need it, you hear me, kid? I know what it’s like to get your mind fucked around by that bastard. He screwed me up, too. No one here’s going to think less of you if you need to take a break.” And Demetri is like HOLY SHIT...maybe I was very wrong about this guy??? He CLEARLY doesn’t want other kids to have to go through what he did, and Demetri’s got nothing but respect for that. And he’s really grateful that there’s someone there who can help Hawk through his Cobra Kai trauma in a way even Demetri can’t. And overall, I imagine the longer Demetri spends in the combined dojo, the more he can see that Johnny genuinely cares for Hawk, and admittedly develops a very grudging respect for him for giving Eli confidence in a way Demetri never knew how to.

Also yes, Johnny would probably LOSE HIS SHIT laughing if Demetri fessed up and apologized for the bad review, he’d be like “Kid, if a shitty Yelp review is the worst thing that ever happens to my dojo, I think it’s doing pretty well.” And Johnny Lawrence doesn’t fucking get how the internet works, anyway--no way in hell does he think a bad Yelp review can be THAT bad for business. I mean, what cool, badass person would use this “Yelp” bullshit anyways?! I also think that Johnny probably finds Demetri’s brutal honesty and snarky comments pretty amusing, even if he IS a nuisance at times. Like he probably has some degree of respect for Demetri for just...saying exactly what he thinks at all times, and having 0 filter whatsoever. Because hey, Johnny can relate to that far more than he cares to admit XD

I can also see Demetri going up to Johnny after karate practice, being uncharacteristically timid, and awkwardly thanking Johnny for helping Eli with his Kreese trauma, maybe admitting that he himself isn’t sure how to help Eli recover from everything that happened in Kreese’s Cobra Kai. And Johnny kind of sees Demetri in a new light--because this annoying kid, for all his mouthiness, really does care SO deeply about Hawk and wants him to be all right, even if that means swallowing his pride and saying thank you to the very ex-Cobra Kai sensei he always disliked for turning Eli into an “alpha jerk.” And he remembers just how much Demetri cared about Eli from Day 1, boldly defending his friend’s lip to Johnny when even Miguel wouldn’t. And Johnny’s like damn, Demetri may be a pain in the ass, but he’s loyal as all hell...and fuck, I can respect that.

And then maybe Demetri reluctantly asks Johnny for some advice on how he can better help Hawk with his trauma without patronizing him, or making him feel like he was getting a pity party. Demetri knows he can be a bit condescending and dismissive, even unintentionally, and he really wants to help Eli in the most respectful way he can without accidentally belittling him or putting him down or making him feel weak and pitiful. And he and Johnny end up bonding over how fond they both are of that mohawk kid, and how much they admire how strong he is to have endured everything he has and how very far he’s come since he let himself get bullied mercilessly without fighting back. Of course, Johnny Lawrence isn’t one to pick up on subtleties, so of course he remains completely oblivious to the fact that Demetri is gay as hell for Hawk until explicitly told so by someone XD In any case, Johnny tries to help Demetri help Eli the best that he can, and probably gives a healthy mix of actually good and very misguided advice XD And you dun best believe Eli is utterly touched when he later finds out about this--Demetri braved talking to Johnny Lawrence alone, the man who freaked him out so much that he quit after one day of Cobra Kai...to help Eli??? Color Eli surprised. And thrilled. Must’ve taken some serious balls for Demetri to risk the wrath of Sensei Lawrence for his sake. He’s...lowkey swooning.

ANYWAYS YES DEMETRI AND JOHNNY FINALLY COMING AROUND TO EACH OTHER AND BONDING OVER HOW MUCH THEY CARE ABOUT HAWK PLEASE AND THANK YOU

[matsuoclan]

our own divide

Pairing: Morgan x Det. Lucy Liang (f/f) Rating: Explicit (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Content: explicit dirty talk & internal reflection but no actual intercourse; unresolved ending

Summary: The detective manages a confession of sorts. Morgan does not react well.

Notes: Not to say it’s an unhappy ending per se bc they obv will get together eventually but just as a warning, it’s not wrapped up neatly with confessed feelings on both sides in this particular fic.

[ read on ao3 ] [ masterlist ]

They manage six rounds before Lucy collapses.

It’s not a graceful dismount off of Morgan’s face by any definition of the word. Morgan watches with half amusement, half pride as Lucy does her best to rearrange her shaking limbs before finally collapsing on her back at Morgan’s side.

She looks as wrecked as Morgan feels, body beautifully flushed with orgasm and chest heaving with breath.

Morgan thought she knew sex. For someone who’s been around for over a hundred years and fucked her way through most of it, she should. Sex is just a transaction — a pleasureable one, sure — but a transaction where both or more parties pay in orgasms. All parties should enjoy themselves, come at least once, and at the end, Morgan walks away without a backwards glance.

She’s had good sex, great sex, kinky sex. It’s all supposed to be hot and fun and meaningless. Not hot and fun and fucking earth-shattering to the point where Morgan’s sometimes left stunned, staring up at the ceiling.

But with Lucy, it is.

With Lucy, everything is too much and not enough.

With Lucy, she’s single-minded in her conquest. One touch, and the world fades. Loud ambient noises, harsh lights, overpowering smells — all gone, until all Morgan registers is Lucy and Lucy alone and the only thing that matters is drowning her in enough pleasure so she’s as overwhelmed by Morgan as Morgan is by her.

Every fucking gasp, every moan, every orgasm Morgan wrings from Lucy’s body is a victory. She’s so fucking hungry for it, for every reaction Lucy gives her, and all she wants is more.

Sex has never been like this.

Even now, after they’ve finished, Morgan can’t focus on anything but the sound of Lucy breathing, or the scent of Lucy’s blood, or Lucy’s taste lingering on her tongue. She looks over, inordinately pleased to see Lucy still struggling to catch her breath.

Just because she can, Morgan shifts closer to slant her mouth over Lucy’s. Even out of breath, Lucy’s always beautifully responsive. One taste does more than an entire pack of cigarettes and as she licks into Lucy’s mouth, Morgan’s more than happy she’s found this substitute. 

She alternates the kiss between languid and demanding, knowing it’ll fluster Lucy even further, and grins in triumph when Lucy breaks away on a whimper to breathe.  

“God, I hate it when you do that,” she mutters, throwing an arm across her face.

Morgan grins. “No, you don’t.”

“...No, I don’t,” she agrees, laughing slightly. She peers at Morgan from beneath her arm. Even after all this time, after everything they’ve done, Lucy still hasn’t managed to rid herself of this shyness and it’s more than a little endearing. “How on earth do you just...reach into my brain and pull out all the things I like, every time?”

“You’re not as hard to read as you think,” Morgan says smugly.

Lucy squints at her and lowers her arm to her side. “No, I’m an enigma,” she protests. “A woman of mystery and intrigue.”

“Sweetheart, please,” Moran snorts. “You’re an open book.”

Morgan doesn’t know if she’s met someone who wears their thoughts as freely as Lucy does. Every fucking thing she thinks can be read from the top of her head to her toes. Like how Lucy’s tiny fists ball in fury, shoulders up to her ears, whenever that asshole reporter slash ex opens her mouth. Or how she lights up whenever she’s talking with Nat about what they think are cool facts but totally aren’t.

Or the way her entire body seizes up in terror at any mention of Murphy. Morgan pushes that thought away abruptly. At any rate, Lucy has the worst poker face and it’s well known she can’t lie for shit, but Morgan’s not above using it to her advantage in the bedroom. Or even out of it.

“When I do something you like…” She leans over and trails a finger over Lucy’s collarbone. Lucy shivers deliciously. “Your breath hitches and you make this sexy little gasp. And when I do something you really like, your body goes tight for just a second, like you’re not sure you should like it,” Morgan continues, hand moving to rest lightly on Lucy’s stomach. “But then you moan so sweetly and your breathing picks up and your eyes go hazy.”

“Oh,” Lucy whispers.

“And when you’re about to come...” — this is Morgan’s favorite part — “your thighs clench and you hold your breath and start to beg.”

Lucy’s eyes are impossibly wide, her mouth parted as she watches Morgan. Morgan leans in ever closer until she’s speaking against Lucy’s lips. “One look at you and I know everything you feel.”

Morgan expects a flustered smile, or even a breathy laugh, but instead Lucy falters.

Visibly falters.

What…?

Something complicated crosses her face, an unsettling cocktail of shock, nervousness, panic. She withdraws from Morgan’s touch, putting a few inches between them like she’s trying to regroup, and that more than anything unnerves Morgan.

After a very pregnant pause, Lucy finally says, “I...I hope I’ve never made you uncomfortable, then.”

“Why the fuck would I be uncomfortable?” Morgan automatically replies. She is, though. She’s so fucking uncomfortable right now, seeing Lucy like this and not understanding why.

“Morgan...come on…”

“Tell me.” Morgan reaches for her again to pull her close, but Lucy jerks back.

“Don’t.”

Morgan recoils. Lucy’s looking back at her with skittish eyes, but then she groans and runs her hands down her face.

“I’m sorry,” she says in a small voice. “I’m just...really annoyed with myself right now. It’s not your fault and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” She drops her hands and turns to Morgan again. There’s self reproach in her eyes and a wobbly smile on her mouth.

Morgan hates it. She doesn’t get it, and she hates it, because Lucy should never be anything but happy, but she waits patiently for Lucy to say what’s on her mind. The careful six inches between them feels infinitely wider.

“I know what this is.” Lucy starts slow, like it’s a struggle to get these words out. “I know that you and I are only having sex and that’s all you want. I promise, I do know. But...but when you hold me like that or say things that show you care, it’s so easy for me to forget you don’t love me back. That’s all.” She lifts a shoulder in a small half-shrug and gives Morgan a sad, rueful smile. “You don’t need to tell me how stupid I am. I did my best to hide how I feel, but I’m sure you caught some of it. I really am sorry, especially if it made you uncomfortable. I know you don’t like complicated feelings.”

Morgan can’t breathe. She can’t. Her mouth goes so dry and she has no idea how to process what just happened other than to run Lucy’s words through her brain again and again.

Lucy loves her. Lucy. Who’s currently looking at her like she’s expecting Morgan to do something shitty like reprimand her. Morgan stares right back in shock.

“...Morgan?” She says it like it isn’t the first time she tried to get her attention. “Morgan please say something, you’re scaring me.”

“You love me?” Morgan croaks.

Lucy blinks, clearly taken aback. “I thought...I thought you knew.” Her voice goes up at the end like she’s asking a question. Horror and panic fill her eyes and she raises a shaking hand to her mouth. “Oh god. I’m so sorry, Morgan. Please forget I said anything, I’m so sorry—”

Morgan barely hears her.

No. No. She can’t do this. Lucy loves her. Loves her. Morgan can’t do this, can’t be loved like this and offer nothing in return, not when it’s Lucy. Sweet, beautiful Lucy with the secret snarky side who makes the world disappear when they’re together and wears her entire fucking heart on her sleeve and how the fuck did Morgan miss this? She should’ve seen it and put a stop to this months ago before...before….

Morgan will hurt her, there’s no doubt in her mind. Fuck, she probably already has. That thought alone makes something that feels awfully like the panic she sees in Lucy’s eyes rise up in her throat.

It’s too much. Everything is too much. The room starts closing in on her and the sheets are too scratchy on her skin and the light filtering in through the blinds start hurting her eyes and Lucy’s looking at her like she’s worried about her and all at once Morgan feels everything.

“I need a cigarette,” she says shakily, and shoves off the bed. She throws on her clothes haphazardly and bolts from the room, not bothering to look back to confirm that Lucy’s probably staring at her open-mouthed like Morgan’s lost her mind.

She probably has.

Morgan digs into her pockets for her lighter and a cigarette as she walks and it takes one, two, three times for her shaking hands to properly light the thing.

Fuck.

Fuck.

[mostlikelyshutup]

thoughts while watching the first harry potter:

listen i started this list a little late im ngl but notable thoughts so far are me thinking of dumbledore as a gay idiot and still loving hagrid

do you think hes speaking in parseltongue in the zoo when hes speaking to the snake

forgot boats existed

these idiots do scream a lot dont they

i forgot how light hearted this universe really is in the first couple movies

yer a wizard harry, okay hagrid maybe slide him into it a little better

we get it tuney you have fucking trauma, doesnt mean you should abuse a child

hasnt everyone had their name down since they were born, hagrid? theres a list

i like that his umbrella is pink

are you paying for those damages hargid? stop taking the door off the hinges

though, if the dursleys are, keep breaking shit

speaking about dragons on the the fucking tube, its a miracle harry didnt get in trouble with the ministry sooner

what is hagrid's usual? does anyone know???

fucking Quirrell, cant wait for your epic love story with the dark lord

maybe we should tell the 12 year old how the fuck everyone knows his name, just maybe

they do a great job of getting the wonder down pat

how much money and licensing do you think it took for them to get all these owls on set

ahh yes, antisemitism the bank

how many vaults are in gringotts?? also if harry's vault is the potters vault, a literal like sacred 28 family, one of the original families, and its number 600 something, how many were there before the potters?? did the potters get a vault recently? or is this james and lily's vault?? how rich were james and lily if so??

look at ollivander, crazy tinker uncle, love him

this might be the socialist in me but why do people have to pay for wands if everyone needs one??

why is the dark lords twin wand just sitting around on the shelf, ollie me boy??

do you think thats Harry's true wand or do you think thats because of the horcux thing?? do you harry had to get another wand after he died?? did he? i dont remember the last movie

is ollie me boys actor wearing contacts or are his eyes just like that??

thats a very weird way of showing Halloween 81, very misleading

hagrid said ill predict voldys rise in the first movie so we can have some plot development

hagrid is late to everything isnt he? i can feel it in my bones

i swear ive seen these movies, and ive even read the first book, i just dont remember shit

youd think theyd have someone in the know stationed close to the entrance for the platform, for any muggleborns

ginnys actress really had no fucking lines in this movie did she, just had to stand there

oh wait she said good luck

amazing work ginny

ooh a warm filter

can muggles see the express? like just running from london to scotland

wicked!

you didnt have to show the woman the sad sandwich ron

i think the trolly replenishes magically, i think thats how thats how that works, i want to believe that

god i cant tell if i would love or hate hermione, shes pretentious but so was i at that age

god dont fucking point your wand right in someones face mione

how does mione know who harry is?? why does she care?

look at the tiny first years, might just go and pinch theyre cheeks

MINNIEEEE i love you minnie

looking stunning minnie, the green brings out the sternness in your brow

you go minnie, give your speech, thats my head of house

shut up draco, youre not bond

you pretentious fuckwit, your hair is brassy anyways

if this is a class of kids born in the middle of a war, how big are the usual class sizes wtf

THE FUCKING CLAP

fucking propaganda ron, you slytherin hater

what order are these names going in, did they just randomized the list

oooh we get quiet for the boy who lived, jesus let him keep living

the fact that for the rest of these people its just silent is so fucking funny to me, Harry's just fucking whispering to himself

get their attention minnie

me dads a muggle, mums a witch, bit of a shock for him when he found out

NICK, love to see you buddy

i have no emotional attachment to peeves but i feel i should mention him here

the stairs still piss me off, why the fuck would you make moving stair cases

who sets out gloves for the next day? am i the weird one who doesnt??

Minnie, you are the love of my life

shut up snape you dramatic bloodpurist incel

i know theyre setting him up to be mistaken as the villain but jesus christ hes still an asshole

your robes Neville, you forgot your robes

its weird how they have to learn all these latin charms yet only have to say up to get their brooms to work

why wont you go after him, hes obviously not exactly in control, Hooch

does Hooch only teach first years? she is quite literally the equivalent of a history teacher who coaches football

what the fuck is Quirells classroom

they dont make the house teams because no first years can try out, Ron

MINNIE PLAYED QUIDDITCH?!?!? WHY DIDN'T I KNOW THIS

why didnt you speak up earlier Mione wtf

bc the fire wont give you away, harry, better hide

FLUFFY, WHOS A GOOD BOY

they have much worse things locked up in the school, Ron

Oliver wood is a bloody liar because i still dont fuckign understand quidditch, also theres like 500 rules, wtf

thats a shitty explanation of how the game works, Oliver

BLOW IT UP SEAMUS

SHES TWO FEET BEHIND YOU RON YOU IDIOT

carrot cake? on halloween?

dont shrug as if you didnt literally bully her ron

thought youd oughta know, bit of an understatement Quirell

no duh the trolls left the dungeon ron

lying: the best start to any friendship

we're at a net zero points for gryffindor for the year at the moment

the amount of interaction these kids have with professors is so weird to me, is this what small class size do to kids?? its weird

not comforting Oliver

Okay i understand Oliver simps now, I get it okay

are there no backups or subs for quidditch? feels like there should be, like of all the games

set him on fire mione, i know hes not the villain of the movie but god he sucks

fancy flying from harry fucking potter

okay but also i feel like there are some things we should not trust hagrid with, like hes not that great at keeping secrets

why is harry excited about christmas if he thinks hes not getting presents? i knw there are other aspects but like thats the only reasont o get up early

i always remember this scene at night for some reason??

not just an invisibility cloak, THE invisibility cloak ron

btw who gives it to harry? is it remus? is it dumbledore? is it like an inheritance thing? whats up with that?

there are jumpscares in harry potter

he very much can hide, filch

stop being a narc mrs norris

does harry even know what his parents look like at this point? how does he know who the fuck is in the mirror of erised?? he doesnt have that stupid scrapbook yet does he

oh they nod, sure lets clear up that plot hole

they shouldve put sirius and remus in the mirror in that scene, shown his whole family, wouldve been a nice setup

how does rupert grint already look so tired as a twelve year old

big speech to give to a twelve year old Dumbledore, when you wont even tell him what you see

Emma really does just slam that book on Daniels hand, thats mustve fucking sucked

the fact that ive watched two movies that had Nicholas Flamel in two very different roles this year is very strange to me

well thats probably on account of it being a fucking dragon egg hagrid, now isnt it?

was hagrid a hufflepuff? i think he was, maybe a ravenclaw

yes four, you blonde idiot

that shot is really nice, it sets them apart

what happened to filch to make him such a miserable man?

ooh mention of werewolves, awooo werewolves of london

yeah just dip your whole hand in hagrid, dont be scared of the strange liquid, take a nice little bath

i loev that dog, i want that dog, i want to hug that dog

god just the look of that forest is so bloody cool

wait so is that quirell walking fucking backwards?

maybe ask who the fuck youre talking to before asking other questions??? wtf harry

why are yout talking to the centaur like hes your old friend harry, youve literally never met him before

snape doesnt want the stone at all Harry

god hagrid you sweet stupid man

snape is completely valid for that, if a twelve year old ever looked at me like that i would punch them

Do you think people ever loose invisibility cloaks? like theyre invisible do you think they ever just never get found again

i hate the look of the dog spit, that is so gross

they really left everything in except for the fucking potions didnt they, damn

harry potter walked so queens gambit could run

hermione, posted up

rons stupid in the later movies because he got a concussion as a twelve year old

god harry really posted up to beat up snape in fucking khakis

"I knew you were a danger to me!" Hes twelve, Quirell

let me wait for this weird dude to unravel his head scarf instead of running away

the magic in this movie is real fucking conditional isnt it

just some casual necromancy for the stone? you sure about that voldy, you two faced bitch?

let me choke out this twelve year old real quick

oh yeah why is he able to just avengers endgame Quirell? is there an answer to that? like was that ever found out

do you think voldy passing by him while he hold the stone actually killed him but since he holds the stone hes functionally unkillable and then some magic gets put into him and thats why he can return to life later when he actually goes to the whole afterlife place?

ohhh we're vouching on the blood magic for the endgaming of Quirell

do you think dumbledore came across the vomit flavored bean before or after his sister died?

Mione's got a headband! Looking snazzy!

how did Hufflepuff only get 352 points? Gryffindor literally lost 150 points this year and they only beat them by 50, wtf, is it because they kept getting caught with weed

I wont even speak on the fucking outrage that is this point awarding, its already been spoken on. However, Neville shouldve gotten more points

What if someone just stood up and started challenging Dumbledores math, that would be so funny

some of these extras are really attractive

but james potter is somehow so fucking ugly why did they do that to my mans

hagrid deserves the last shot of this film, i love him, he deserves everything, that stupid sweet man

[tangerinefluff]

before i can freely dive back in on tumblr after being gone for a long time, i just wanted to address some asks i got during my inactivity: 

where do I start lmao. so i’m not sure if I understood the asks the way the anons intended to communicate them. could be because of a little language barrier? and im actually having trouble deciphering hate or disrespect because i have almost never in my life been hated or received serious hate in any form (i was THE good girl, on the outside that is, my entire life no one messed with bc i dont really do anything hateful like it’s just not in my nature to respond in that way 😅 anw very besides the point) so you may talk to me again if that’s not what you (anon) intended.

to the first one who said this: 

hi! i get ur suggestion but maybe word it differently? bc that was kinda rude. first off, this one (garbage) writing is for you too. second, i appreciate the cute hearts at the end to go with the insult in the beginning 😅 (but also) third, you’re on MY blog. i mean,,, with the first words i agree? LMAO. i apologize i don’t have the best thoughts but no i won’t change things. this is literally my own space and im sharing a little of what’s on my mind and they don’t have to be useful and significant and a WOW moment kind of post to everyone lmao. fourth, you can locate the unfollow/mute button yourself. im not actually sure what writings you meant, if it’s the unrelated or personal posts/asks, or the blog-related shitty posts. and i’m not very tidy with my tags either so i’ll try harder on that! will tag unrelated texts as “garbage.text” and blog-related texts as “hq.text”. fifth, that’s what i keep my following tabs open for actually. i follow a lot of even betterrr blogs with content like mine and esppp amazing artists you should check out yk instead of sending people ask like that..haha. lastly, i hope you don’t go around sending blogs asks like this one and just filter out the stuff you want to consume yourself. let’s be careful with words bestie! (edit: also my blog now is 90% reblogged art so.... why the big issue).

candidate #2 who quoted a tag on my post and said: 

aah what i meant there is that i am actually having a hard time remembering.. in general. (cue the victim card script) yes dramatic but i feel like my memory’s deteriorating. can’t remember names of people i just met or friends from a long time. things i just did or the phone i just put down 30 secs ago. conversations and with whom. read somewhere that it could be due to mental health problems. and i cant keep track of all the interactions here so i mess things up sometimes which is why i’m less active. and its not bc my friends here are insignificant!!! lmao. dw i remember, i have my close friends’ UNs and names listed on my notes too :D

yk i wanna bite harder than this bc im a real B on the inside and i wanted to make light of this (somehow funny to me because ik i shouldn’t respond bc it feels like twitter behavior) &&& i wanted to show off my clean record that i haven’t ever been hated before lmao until this moment that is. im just super shocked cause i’m 22 and JUST realizing, oh so this is the dangerous stuff on the internet! like i thought i could’ve avoided them because im.... literally... nice that i’m almost boring here and unproblematic and trying my best and just talking about stuff i like. bestie is not special over here.

to those who have been following me from the first (cringe) days, would know i post reallyyyy randomly. it was more original posts rather than reblogs. and i minimized on that when my following increased. there’s 4.4k amazing people following this blog in just a little over a year. so i toned down the personal stuff right away. honestly got conscious and i didn’t like it because the blog started to feel less like it’s mine. i can’t openly switch to a different content/media or just scream nonsense. i can’t answer personal asks freely. can’t interact with mutuals. then i just decided that i won’t mind anymore. as long as my post isn’t offensive and/or rude, i will post as i wish. i don’t normally engage in hateful posts because it bums me out. like a minute into reading these asks they really upset me then writing my response and letting this sit in the drafts made me think i won’t bother anymore because i could just let the asks get lost into the void and it’s not like i did anything wrong, but i guess i had a little energy today. and yes, will be turning off anon asks from here on out.

i hope this one won’t get dragged out and i’m not expecting any interactions from this because i just wanna talk about stuff i’ve been getting into lately, back to regular programming.. AAAAHHHHH!!! not sure if this will reach the anons (expected they unfollowed because that’s the smart thing to do) but I still wish them a good day/night and a peaceful tumblr experience! (^^)

[captainsassmanes]

Trissshhhhh I have a dialogue prompt for you from that list, and bc you know I freaking love angst. “Take me instead” for Malex

Warnings: This one is heavy. Tw: violence, descriptions of injuries, torture, cursing, Jesse Fucking Manes.

Alex’s vision blurred and he realized, slower than he would have liked, that he could see nothing out of his left eye. He sent out a quick prayer that it was just swelling, nothing permanent. 

What that meant, either way, was that he couldn’t clearly see the blows before they came anymore. Maybe a small blessing. Maybe really shitty luck.

“Did Max Evans heal Elizabeth Ortecho from a bullet wound?”

The voice of who he’d learned was Staff Sargent Mitchell menaced in his ear. 

Alex was in agony. He’d barely eaten in what he figured was weeks, his stomach twisting in a hunger so severe it ached. He’d been beaten everyday, his injuries never having the chance to begin healing. There was a cut on his arm he was sure had become infected and it sat in the perfect spot to send shooting pains straight up his dominant arm every few seconds.

The first few days, maybe a little longer, of his captivity, he’d fought back: pulled against his restraints, spit in Mitchell’s face, laughed in his father’s. He could still remember reasons to be free again and to keep his mouth shut. 

Michael. Kyle. Isobel. Michael. Max. Liz. Michael. Arturo. Mimi. Maria. Michael.

He’d repeat their names when he was alone in his cell, pitch black with the smell of dampness and mold filling his nostrils. He’d pull up memories of them, his brain filtering through them all to feature only the best ones.

Getting high with Maria and laughing for hours. Study sessions with Liz that were more milkshakes and gossip than anything else. Sparing with Isobel, watching confidence radiate off her. Waking up next to Michael, watching the sun light up his tan skin, watching his chest rise and fall, the feel of his chest hair, wiry and thick. The little snores he let out when he slept on his back. The way Michael’s hands felt on his own skin, callused and so full of love.

He never cried from the pain, from the fear, from the threats.

But he’d cried when he thought of Michael.

Eventually, unable to deny it, the reality of the situation set in. Alex figured he’d been held for about two weeks. The meetings with his father, demented, psychological warfare, evolved to insure Alex knew no one was looking for him. No one gave a shit. No one missed him.

Kyle continued to go to work, date his precious, new co-worker. Liz and Max were rekindling their romance while Rosa, who they’d discovered almost instantly, continued to dance in the shadows. Isobel was event planning during the day and, according to sources, blowing up bigger and bigger things in the middle of the night.

And then there were Michael and Maria.

Jesse never hesitated to keep Alex well informed with that relationship. The dates they went on. The visits to see Mimi. The hand holding. The love making. The laughter and the smiles.

It had been just a couple of evenings ago, Alex lying on his back, arm on fire and bleeding from his head, when the tears finally stopped. He pictured Michael and Maria, arms wrapped around one another, eyes locked with wide smiles painted across their beautiful faces. He imagined ease and comfort and simplicity. Kindness and consideration, dedication and loyalty.

“Keep them safe...happy,” Alex whispered to no one.

From that moment on, he tucked it all away; his emotions, his pain, his reactions. He had nothing to give them and refused to yield even an inch.

His eyes met Mitchell’s and Alex made no effort to move. He didn’t shrug or smirk or blink an eye. He would give them nothing.

“What exactly can Isobel Evans do?”

Alex was unmoved. He took the next hit, breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth.

“Can Michael Guerin move objects with his mind?”

Alex felt a small wave of pride as he remained stoic at the mention of Michael’s name.

The next hit knocked him to the ground, the chair he was tied to coming right down with him. The military issues boots hurt like a son of a bitch, Alex feeling his insides bruising with each kick, until he couldn’t help but let out the vomit he’d been trying to hold back.

“Enough, Mitchell. Stand down.”

The kicking stopped as Mitchell took a few steps back and stood at attention. Jesse came to stand before him, feet still and silence filling the room.

“Pick him up.”

When they came face to face, Alex searched. He searched his father’s features for any indication that Jesse felt something, anything.

It was fruitless.

“This is all you’re gonna give us, son?”

Alex raised an eyebrow, not at the question but at the term of endearment.

With a shallow breath, ribs screaming in protest, he mumbled, “you’ve already taken everything. I’m not giving you shit. Dad.”

Jesse nodded, a familiar look of disappointment in his eyes. “Very well.”

The walk down the long hall felt surprisingly freeing. Alex knew this was it, the end of his journey. Jesse and whoever else was working for him had done what they could to get any information out of him. They must have realized he wouldn’t speak and no one cared enough to try to save him.

So it was time.

He wondered briefly if the stories his mom used to tell him as a boy were true. A great warrior may be able to rest in a peaceful, safe afterlife, or maybe reincarnate as human again to try once more, to live another noble life. Or, perhaps, his sins were too great. He’d end up falling into an abyss for eternity or come back but as a roach or something.

Truthfully, he’d never given much thought to death. Losing his leg had changed that a bit but he still did what he could to focus on the present, moment to moment. Maybe that helped him now. He still felt more curious than afraid.

Alex just hoped for peace.

As the small group turned the final corner, he was pushed back as the sound of guns cocking echoed through the space.

He craned his neck, trying to see what had happened, but couldn’t see past the mammoth solider in front of him.

“Stand down. Now. Hands up.”

“Aw, c’mon now, boys. No way to greet a visitor, is it?”

Alex stumbled a bit, head spinning and heart racing. It wasn’t possible. Not now when he was ready.

If he was being honest, there were nights, bitter, lonely, angry nights when he hated his friends, hated Michael for leaving him, abandoning him completely when he needed them most. He wasn’t the best friend but he did what they needed, helped where he could, took the blows he was dealt. And it got him what? Kidnapped. Left to be tortured and die. Alone.

But once he’d rested, once the blood stopped pulsing so loudly in his ears, he knew it was best. It was what he truly wanted. He’d never want Michael or the Evans’ to risk their safety, their secret, for him. And his other friends, they wouldn’t stand a chance against these fucking sadists.

It was best for all of this to end with him.

But now, as Michael stood in the space that was meant for Alex’s last moments, he couldn’t think.

“You’re nothing in here, Mr. Guerin.” His father’s voice was laced with condescension and excitement.

“Take me instead.”

Alex stopped breathing. Michael’s voice sounded calm and even, bordering on arrogant if that was possible with at least six guns pointed at him. Alex tried to speak but Mitchell beat him.

“If you haven’t noticed, asshole, you’re already taken.”

The sound of Michael’s laugh hit Alex’s ears and, beyond all reason, he smiled. That sound was so rare Alex couldn’t help but treasure it every time, even in the most dire of circumstances.

“Am I?” He felt the soldiers in front of him shift, a sudden change in the air. “Tell me, Master Sargent, why are you under the impression that I’m nothing?”

Alex grit his teeth and grimaced with the pain as he stretched as tall as he could. His eyes locked with Michael’s and Alex knew. There had been a plan. Thank fuck Michael had a plan.

The urge to sob and be held against Michael’s chest, wrapped in his strong arms was overwhelming.

“This place is so loaded with powder you won’t be able to shift a paper clip you fucking freak.”

Alex watched as Michael’s curls danced, moving with the nodding of his head.

“Yikes. I guess I didn’t realize. But I do have one more question.” He pointed to himself as he added, “curious by nature.”

He watched the hands of the soldier in front of him begin to shake, fingers gripping his weapon a bit too tightly. Alex smirked. Maybe they were starting to put it together.

With a voice suddenly full of anger and vitrol, Michael asked the room, “how the fuck do you think I got in here?”

In the blink of an eye, a force Alex couldn’t see pushed him against the wall, air leaving him with the strength of it. He gazed in wonderment, as if watching a movie or a perfect moment of a play, as the soldiers firearms all turned to white doves, flying confused and frightened around the space.

Each soldier died without Michael needing to move a muscle, his face unchanged, although his eyes had shifted from a stunning hazel to completely black. Alex thought he’d never looked better.

When the final man fell to the floor in a bloody pile, Michael turned that black, empty gaze to Alex. Jesse floated out of the room, chin lifted and struggling for air, and into the hall, toes barely touching the now stained linoleum.

Alex understood Michael’s silent question.

With difficulty, Alex stood, discovering his restraints had literally vanished. He met his father’s glare, searching one, last time for some semblance of shame, regret, sadness. He found nothing but disgust and hatred.

Cradling his core, Alex stood straight, the Manes man his father had always wanted him to be. He didn’t remove his eyes from his fathers and his voice didn’t waiver as he said, “lock him in and blow it up.”

Jesse’s body flew backward and into the room with his ever-obedient team. He landed on the floor, on his hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air.

Michael had moved to stand beside Alex, eyes now the stunning gold he normally wore, and took Alex’s bloody, broken hand in his.

“Don’t worry, Jesse.” Michael brought Alex’s hand up to his mouth and placed a delicate, gentle kiss to the back of it, mouth coming away scarlet with blood. “I’ll take good care of him.”

Jesse snarled and moved to stand before the door slammed shut and locked, Jesse’s screams slipping under the space of the door.

Alex stood, stunned, that it was finally over, that Michael was here, that Jesse would be gone, that he would live.

“We’ve gotta go.”

Alex nodded but didn’t move.

“Will you, Michael?”

“Will I what, Alex?”

He was too exhausted to keep the break from his voice. “Take care of me.”

Michael smiled as Alex felt his body become immeasurably lighter, moving without making any effort at all. Michael wrapped an arm around Alex and pulled him into his side.

“Forever if you’ll let me.”

Alex never imagined his happy ending would begin with an explosion.

[queen-mabs-revenge]

I apologize if this comes off as a rude question to a Killian fan, but I think you’d be the best person to answer in a real and logical way: Do you think, given what we know of how the series went, Killian’s character arc might have ended better had he either died from the Excalibur wound or if he had been allowed to maintain his heroic sacrifice at the end of the Dark Swan arc? Not necessarily ‘would he be better off dead than married’, just whether those would’ve been more Him.

Woo boy nonny, you’re out for my life today, aren’t you? xD

OK arggggk ok this is complicated for me bc those two ‘death points’ are very different imo, and also have different implications depending on how close to the story you’re zooming in. For the purposes of this, I’m going to focus on the Camelot death from the Excalibur wound. 

On the purely ~*~i’m love him~*~ level, of course I’m rather dang pleased that he didn’t die…permanently in either of those scenarios. I’m always pleased to get more of Killian on my screen. Even if the situations leave me feeling frustrated, I think that he’s a character that’s complexly written enough and well acted enough to be someone I can enjoy picking apart in any scenario. 

So OK dealing with both of these scenarios I think you can tackle this from a few different viewpoints (and I hate to always go back to this, but it’s literally like the fundamental way my brain works, so I’m gonna kind of be flirting with those ideas the whole time). Looking at the situations as if I were imagining all the characters in the story to be real people? I think it’s clear what the characters wanted: in the case of the Excalibur wound, Killian would rather have died while helping free his friends than Emma turn him into the dark one, and expressed that clearly. In the case of his death at the end of the Dark Arc, he chose death in part as a way to free everyone from the fate he’d doomed them to, but also to eradicate the darkness once and for all. Because of Rumple’s failsafe, that choice was predicated on false circumstances, and so the idea of Emma going to bring him back, and him not wanting to stay dead as long as everyone else was safe, makes more character sense and is more of a plot point to get everyone to The Underworld. Because the first is more character based and the latter more plot based, I’m gonna focus my attention on the first.

If we’re talking about the character arcs? It’s hard. Basically the way that I would approach that would be “how fruitful were these events in catalysing character progression and growth” and as I’ve said in other posts, I don’t think they—especially the Camelot death—were fruitful at all, and in fact were regressive. This is going to focus mainly on CS in 4-6 as that’s pretty much what I see those events and their value enmeshed with (and, as I’ve stated before, IMO nearly all of Killian’s S4-6 interactions are filtered through CS anyway, so I think it’s appropriate to talk mostly about CS here) and bc I’m a lengthy ho it’s going below the cut.

The thing I had loved about CS was that during the S3 build up to their actually entering a relationship, the relationship was set up to challenge both of their character weaknesses. For Killian, his weakness centres around his desire for freedom and agency (for himself or others), when challenged, leading him to close himself off and/or make pretty shitty and harmful decisions. For Emma, you have the fear from the trauma of abandonment leading her to isolate herself, or sometimes not even enter decisions as to not present the opportunity for abandonment.

So the S3 push-and-pull of Killian giving the reins of the relationship to Emma—stepping in as support when her life or familial relationships were at risk, yes, but in their interpersonal relationship, letting her evaluate him and move at her own pace—addressed both of their weaknesses. Killian explored the vulnerability of willingly giving up control of a situation, and Emma, by going at her own pace, was able to evaluate his steadfastness and begin to trust him for it.

And that was the dynamic that each needed in that moment, and why early CS is still in ways compelling for me — if I ignore the follow through. Because the problem with the two “deaths”, as far as I see, is that they follow this pattern of taking that previous dynamic, and digging in the heels and exaggerating it to an unhealthy level, instead of exploring how the two characters heal together and adopt a new dynamic. The important thing in that push-and-pull exchange is the agency both characters have in it — however, you start to see what, in my opinion, is Emma assuming Killian’s willingness to follow her lead is given, which removes his agency from the exchange…and the narrative starts to romanticise it.

I think you start seeing it from the beginning of S4 with Emma getting angry at Hook when he doesn’t do as she says and stay put with Elsa in 4x03. We get insight into both of their mindsets during the confrontation at the end – Emma is terrified that she’ll lose him and that’s the reason she orders him earlier; he, used to being dynamic, struck out on his own in response. But the point we got by the end of the episode wasn’t that she was right, but that she was expressing her valid fears irrationally by trying to tell Killian to do what she said, no questions asked. And he was wrong in that he didn’t counter a demand he didn’t agree with right away and directly, but took back his agency behind her back when he should have communicated that he had a problem with what she was asking. So you have the unhealthy level of the dynamic being played out, handled poorly, and a set up for forward motion into healthiness being presented.

Except it never really followed through—oh it did in dribs and drabs, which makes this so much more frustrating (their conflict over his holding back information about Ursula, and then the resolution they come to together being one positive move I can think of where they’re venturing more into equal partner territory), but overall the idea of Killian’s capitulating to Emma being a given instead of a choice is the theme that continued—to its unhealthiest apex in S5, with the Dark One arc being the dramatic climax of  Emma assuming Killian’s eventual compliance and overriding his agency with her own desires, and Killian, when confronted with being controlled, going to harmful extremes.

And, what that should have done, and what I thought it was doing at the time, was to drag that increasingly issue-laden agency problem out into the harshest light, to the most extreme situation of life or death, and create maximum drama over it so that it could reach a resolution both through character interaction and plot resolution. So that going forward, you would have the two entering into a more communicative partnership and presenting a united front (and negotiating how to navigate what that means) against whatever conflict showed up next (insert forever bitter I NEVER GOT MY FUCKING BATTLE COUPLE face here), or deciding to step back and change their dynamic by moving away from presenting a romantic unit.

But what happened was more of the same, except this time it was treated by the narrative as being just part of their relationship’s standard operating procedure, part of the new ‘normal’ after the major conflict of S5, and not as a problem to be solved. It was romanticised. So you end up with S6 which makes me just want to fling myself into the sun with rage. Lies about the saviour premonitions are Emma taking agency away from not only Killian but everyone around her — it’s the same story all over again, ***walls*** so it’s OK, but no one has the agency to react and to help her because she doesn’t allow it. And as it relates to CS, you don’t get Killian’s reaction to this at all except in sad looks (and That Fucking Cut Scene That Shouldn’t Have Been Cut).

You get a redux of 4x03 with Killian hiding the shears as a way to try to reclaim some agency behind Emma’s back, because she’s shut him out of any solution they could have reached together as partners. But the narrative focuses on what he does as the only grave error of the situation. You have the agency problem embedded in the first proposal – from going through his private things that trusted as a safe hiding place, to her instigating the proposal over his coming to her for help — but this time, unlike in the Camelot situation, her actions aren’t called into question by the narrative, but his immediately very much are both by her at the character level, and at the narrative by isolating him on the realm-hopping extravaganza. Her taking away his agency is very literally romanticised in a proposal.

You have it again right before the wedding with yet another lie to cut Killian off from being able to actively step back to or to step in and help her as her supposed partner — and again, this time the narrative frames this not only as the act of a hero, culminating in her solo take-down of the Black Fairy (with her family literally frozen out of supporting her), but it actually intersperses her actions of lying to him to force him act as she alone thinks is right in with the build up to their actual wedding. Not only does the narrative not call her actions into question, they’re literally put into the most romantic of contexts. The question at that point is never whether or not Killian will follow Emma’s lead, because the relationship never moved past the S5 conflict of Emma assuming he would and acting on his behalf, except unlike in S5, this isn’t portrayed as a relationship weakness, but as Emma’s strength of character, and their romantic apex.

So that comes back to the death question. And my returning question: narratively what was the payoff? 

It’s not that from a story standpoint I think that Killian’s character arc was finished when he was dying from the Excalibur wound — for me it’s that, if that moment is a pivotal moment crafted to show the height of agency imbalance in the only real relationship he has on the show in S4-6, then it should have been addressed and resolved with a pivot in dynamic after the dramatic fallout — with the characters either moving together or apart. 

As it stands, the dynamic stagnated and regressed so badly into that stagnation that the whole issue that the “death” brought up, with the extreme violation of agency and resulting trauma of S5, was angst for angst sake without resulting growth. Without a complete overhaul of the plot from that point out where CS either grow together or apart due to the consequences of that moment, I tend to view that moment when he’s begging to die in the Middlemist field as just a deeply sad one, now made the sadder for its pointlessness. It’s harbinger of the future unchanging and then utterly romanticised removal of his agency within the relationship continuing through the end of the series. The shower of resulting S5 angst affects his character/relationship arc through S6 about as much as a fridging would have anyway, and it’s really bleeding hard for me to side against the character’s wishes knowing all that in retrospect.

(that said, to reiterate, as a killian fan, i am glad he stuck around? but i’m also glad i get to live in a world where there’s a him that didn’t go through that depressing stagnation? ugh HI YEAH!)

[ugestu]

soukoku and owning fish

ok i originally started this in a discord server i’m in but it was too good and i’m in love with the idea

there’s more under the link bc i wrote so much my god

just let my boys be at peace and happy

Chuuya:

- Chuuya is so particular about the way everything looks in his tank

- deep cool colored rocks with red lights underneath?

- even pawned a personally customized castle off of someone

- he made sure there would be plenty of loopholes for his fish to swim through

- cleaning the tank is a religious activity, if he sees ONE smudge on the tank you bet he has his disinfectant spray and his sponge out

- LOVES tropical fish (Mandarin, Discus, and any fish from the Tang species)

- you’ll be hypnotized the moment your eyes set on all those pretty colors

- any of the plainer fish he has were bought off of old women that work at supermarkets he feels bad for

- has an black axolotl much to Dazai’s disgust

- speaking of Dazai

- Dazai makes owning fish HELL

- Scenario 1: Chuuya bought two beta fish, keeping them in separate containers so they wouldn’t fight each other

- once when Chuuya was at work, Dazai dumped them in the same bowl

- needless to say there wasn’t much cleanup

- Chuuya ignored Dazai for TWO weeks

- purposefully refused to make anything related to crabs (dazai’s favorite food) for dinner because he “was compensating for the waste of fish”

- Scenario 2: one day, Dazai just dropped a lionfish (??) into Chuuya’s tank

- “oi, the hell do you think you’re doing, dazai?”

- “no need to be so defensive, chibi. i’m just contributing to your tank! you won’t disagree with me when i say it’s pretty, won’t you?”

- lionfish are pretty

- but not when they swallow your other fish

- commence the silent treatment once more

- even through all that, Chuuya’s secret favorite fish is the one mackerel in his tank

- it’s hard to see because of all the other vibrant fish, but Chuuya will always notice it first

- when Kouyou took Chuuya to his first summer festival, he played a mini game where you would have to flick a piece of rice with chopsticks into a cup

- he won (gravitation powers and all)

- Chuuya got a koi fish, much to his pleasure

- Kid!Dazai was a little shit and popped the plastic bag

- water splashed all over Chuuya, + sadly there’s no way to revive a fish in the middle of a bustling crowd

- lanterns hanging on strings started to rise and the food stand behind him collapsed because Chuuya could not control his anger well enough

- He ran out of the festival and into the forest (then cried silently behind a tree)

- Dazai had followed Chuuya all the way into the forest expecting Chuuya to throw a temper tantrum

- Chuuya being sad?? is not familiar at all to Dazai??

- it’s not the reaction he wanted at all, really

- for once Dazai does something to make up for it

- he went to a lake and scooped that very mackerel

- it was dropped off in a bowl and put in Chuuya’s room after the festival was over, along with a note next to it with just Dazai’s name

- Chuuya, sniveling: “the hell is this? don’t think that some shitty fish is going to make me forgive you for what you did.”

- but really when it comes to Dazai he never keeps his word and we all know it

Dazai:

- if you thought the mackerel was the only thing Dazai picked off of the lake, you’re dead wrong

- anything he captures during his attempts at drowning is fair game

- one measly shrimp, seaweed, a frog that set loose in the house and knocked over Chuuya’s chinaware

- it’s not even a tank it’s a BOWL because Chuuya doesn’t trust Dazai with maintaining the fish at all

- with good reason

- most fish don’t make it past a month due to neglect

- the bowl is ALWAYS murky gray and chuuya will have to threaten Dazai to set the fish free or throw out the whole thing

- but there’s this one goldfish

- dazai has accidentally created the most defective fish known to mankind

- it will withstand weeks without eating and spends its time swimming in its own filth

- once Dazai washed the damn bowl with BLEACH

- everything died, but the poor thing survived to tell the tale

- the fish turned white(??)

- Dazai tells Chuuya the fish reminds him of Chuuya because “no matter what I do to it, it just won’t leave me”

- that usually earns him a good kick across the room(s)

- Chuuya feels bad for the fish

- he’ll pretend not to care

- “the tank is just as messy as your life”

- but if on some rare occasion if Dazai isn’t in the house but Chuuya is, Chuuya will reluctantly change the water and shake some pellets into the bowl

- Dazai taps Chuuya’s tank repeatedly just to leave fingerprints and psych out the fish

- Chuuya loathes him for it 

- the fish do too because whenever Dazai gets too close they’ll all scatter

- On days Dazai isn’t feeling particularly devious and he’s alone, he’ll sometimes just sit down in front of Chuuya’s tank and watch the fish go by

- he’ll think to himself existential thoughts like if the fish are aware of their crippling seclusion from the despairing world they live in, etc., etc.

- mostly though it’s calming and he’ll fall asleep to the gurgling noises the water filter makes

- Chuuya will return from work and at first he’ll be wary of what Dazai has done to the tank

- once he realizes he’s just sleeping by it, Chuuya will bring a blanket w/ him and curl up next to Dazai after draping it over both of their shoulders

[bnha-hcs]

.:Soul Bond:. - Chapter 1

Alasjlka I meant to write this a long ass time ago but a few things popped up and I got busy rip,,, alskm Anyways this is the beginning to the series I was talking about doing!! It’s a crossover with an old rpg game that I really loved. I kept the name of the village elder bc I couldn’t think if anyone who could fit in her place for now. I might go back and change it once I’m not sleep deprived and up at 2:30 in the morning :’) Tell me what you guys think!

I also have an Ao3 now!! I’ll be posting stuff for other fandoms so if you wanna request a one shot or smth from another fandom shoot me an ask on here or on my ao3!! -----> Here!!

You wake up, eyes fluttering open and staring blankly at the ceiling. A groan escapes your lips as you roll over and take the pillow behind your head, shoving it over your head in an attempt to keep out the light of the morning sun. In the distance, you recall with a grimace, is the sound of the tower bell, signalling you to rise. But, gods, you really don’t have the energy to get up after yesterday’s training with your friend. She really was insistent when it came to training with you. Even though you had beat her countless amounts of times, she still insisted you were the weaker of the two of you. And so she drove you to train with her endlessly, and when you were summoned to do other village duties it was a blessing really. You loved her to death but, man, she just really took the energy outta you sometimes.

“Hey, are you still sleeping?” You heard a familiar voice blare, causing you to groan and curl up in a ball. “How many times do I have to wake you up myself??”

The door was already open and you lazily tried to fend off your friend with a few swipes of your hand. She clearly wasn’t amused as you swatted at her and opted to yank the bedsheets off of you completely. You slumped on the bed in defeat while she grabbed your ankles and started to drag you out of the bed. She whined at you for being so heavy to which you snorted at.

“Come ooon!” She drawled in aggravation, “The village elder already summoned us! What if we’re finally going to be made guards just like we’ve been hoping?”

Ah, that’s right, you thought. It was for the past few months that the two of you had finally made it to the age that most others are when they begin their village guardianship. She had been nagging you about it between meals and duties around the village. The elder had repeatedly refused the two of you whenever you pressed the matter however, only going to anger the latter. You were fine with waiting if that’s what was needed, but someone else wasn’t as sold on the idea. Though, you had to admit, it was getting a little tiring being kept like a beauty in a gilded cage in this secret hidden village. Visitors here were few and far between and if rumors were true, the outside world was in peril of falling apart and decaying into nothing.

Your friend had given up on you by now as you lethargically got up to get ready. As you tugged on a usual shirt you felt the ache in your muscles while your mind wandered to the past few days. Nothing had stood out to you besides the village elder acting a bit distant. The look in her old eyes grew distant, cold even as she bid you farewell after every meeting. You shrugged it off. Maybe she was just getting sentimental about the two of your growing up? Having practically raised the two of you, maybe it was time she thought about letting you two grow up a little. Either way, it wasn’t your place to press about it, and even when your friend complained about the unfairness of being denied guard status, you were ready to remind her that the village elder was only doing what she thought best.

“Ochako,” You spoke quietly. The quick tilt of your head gave heed to what you meant. Being more of a soft spoken, quiet sort of person, only a few words got the point across most of the time. You found your friend being so outspoken was good, mostly because you wouldn’t have to explain so much, especially when you got a little flustered trying to explain things.

“It’s a about time.” She huffed in mock annoyance. You followed her down the hall and out into the main area, a small cave dug out with pillars of light filtering in from the ceiling. They shown onto the crystaline water flowing from the small fountain in the center, the cave made out of an almost quartz like material. If you hadn’t lived here the past 16 years you would’ve thought this place were some sort of ethereal plane of existence. But now it was just the same old area you passed through time and time again.

As soon as you reached the chamber in which your village elder dwelled, you kneeled until she bid you to rise. Ochako was trying her best not to blurt out the same question she had been asking the past months. You eyed her wordlessly before glancing back at the village elder, her eyes betraying something you weren’t sure you wanted to know about. It gave you an odd feeling, but you had no idea how to express it, so you kept it to yourself as you waited.

“It’s occured to me that I’ve been a bit, stingy with the two of you.” She began, the words flowing out, slow like molasses, “I believe it’s time.”

“W-w-wait… R-really?” The girl beside you choked out, looking like a fish with such a gaping look. ‘’Do you really mean it, Lady Layna?”

The old lady only chuckled at this, an raspy but hearty sort of sound. She held out a staff, pointing it squarely at Ochako, before an assortment of weapons appeared on the ground in front of her. The younger girl went bug eyed at the choice of brilliant looking weapons, but she was quick to gravitate towards the weapon she had been talking about since she was little.

“The choice it yours,” Layna spoke, “But choose wisely, for the weapon you choose will reflect your hero’s soul.”

“Hmm- These!” Ochako suddenly spoke, grabbing the emerald looking pair of short sickles. They shown in the gleaming light, and it was almost a divine win had sprung from her touch.

“Those blades will make sure your strikes are as light and quick as the wind, while your heart stays just as true. A truly fitting pick for you.”

You gawked a bit at the weapons but before you could step over to see what you could pick, they vanished. With a start you darted your gaze back over to Layna, catching a glimpse of a grimace on her face. You internally panicked, but you didn’t let it show much. With another swirl of her staff, another weapon was held before you.

“And for you,” She paused, putting her staff down and holding onto it with a grip tight enough to see her knuckles whiten. “I have only this.”

You gulped, unsure if you should even touch this thing. It was a black, onyx sword, the blade looking downright malicious as a set of red gems gleamed like eyes peering into your soul. It was unsettling and you weren’t sure if you could even refuse at this point. You glanced over at Ochako, whom of which seemed to be mirroring your concern. You looked back at the blade and swallowed hard. With a pit in your stomach you reached out, hands brushing over the handle before you grasped the blade fully. And oh boy, you really wished you hadn’t.

In an instant a wave of darkness sprang from it and engulfed you fully. Your hair whipped back from your face from the sheer force and at this point you were holding on for dear life. The waves of darkness continued to pour from the blade endlessly. Red and black mingled together like paint on a canvas. Swirling and mixing together as it leaked out into the room.

“(Y/n)!” You heard Ochako exclaim.

As soon as you looked over to her your vision clouded and you saw only darkness. A tingling sensation shot through your body, and you suddenly felt like you were floating. When you found yourself trying to look around however, you noticed that you couldn’t look at your own body. Slowly, a figure came into view in the darkness, the shadows giving way to a red hue. You saw, floating in the ethereal darkness, a boy with spiky ash blond hair, wearing a loose black tunic and gray pants. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his eyes were staring right through. A wicked looking smirk was plastered across his face. It wasn't long before you heard a rough voice yell out into a devilish laugh.

“It’s about damn time you shitty hag!” You heard him exclaim, though it felt like it was coming from you. “It’s been hundreds of years since I’ve gotten to stretch my legs!”

“W-What’s going on??” You heard Ochako stammer through the darkness.

“And from the looks of it, you chose a pretty good one, too!” The voice boomed in your ears. “Cozy even, I could get used to this.”

Your face flushed at this and you weren’t sure how to respond to this. Was he inside you? How was he in the sword? What the actual fuck was going on?? You spaced out, thinking at a rate of about a thousand miles an hour. It wasn’t until you heard someone screaming at you to listen did you finally snap back into reality, if this even was reality at this point.

“Hey are you even listening to me?” You heard him again. “The names Katsuki, baddest of the bad, maddest of the mad, killer of kings and destroyer of worlds!”

You rolled your eyes, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. In fact, now that you got a good look at him in this small void place you were dwelling away from the others, it looked like her had these weird floating things draped around his shoulders. Just what the hell was he?

“I’m what you call a Master of Death.” He said, as if he were reading your mind, and you panicked for a good second. “Now give me dominion over your body.”

Wait. W h a t.

“Excuse me?” You asked, “What are you going to do with it if I do?”

“Why I’m going to blow up this whole fucking world of course!” He gloated, a laugh ripping through his chest, almost like a mighty howl.

“Then no.” You said simply. “Why would I even let you do that?”

“Hey hey hey, don’t be selfish! I’ve been kept in that stupid sword for so long!” He whined, “Can’t you help a guy out?”

“No.” You said flatly, crossing your arms mentally.

There was a long and loud groan before your vision was no longer clouded in darkness and you were on the ground, hands still held fast around the handle of the blade. You groggily got up, holding the blade in one hand now. Layna looked at you warily but you weren’t sure what to even say to her.

“You sure picked a stubborn one,” You heard the voice again, “She didn’t even fucking budge!”

“Then I was right to put my faith in (Y/n).” Layna sighed, relief setting into her features.

“Wait, what the hell just happened??”

------

Layne had explained everything to you, about how she had fought Katsuki over a millenia ago and sealed him into the blade, and how she had been looking for someone she thought could handle the power of keeping the Master of Death sealed within their body. That person happened to be you this time and you shuddered to think of what would’ve happened if your body had given out like the ones before you. Ochako was not impressed or remotely okay with this fact and refused to acknowledge Katsuki despite him now constantly insulting her from within you. Her first instinct was to call him a demon, and was convinced you were possessed. But Layna had assured her that you were in fact, still you.

Although you know had a duty to perform now. You were not to be a guard of the village, but you were to go out into the world and hopefully do something about what was called a ‘World Eater’ that was the cause of the earth tremors growing more and more violent in your village. What that meant for Ochako you had no idea. But it was hard to say no to Layna after what all had just happened. You couldn’t even remember half the details she had told you. Everything was foggy and your muscles still ached from the hordes of training the past few days.

So after a long ass day and ordeal you decided to take a bath, forgetting you were in the presence of a certain Master of Death. Just as you had begun to strip you heard a whistle of approval from somewhere. Whipping around you saw no one, before the realization sunk in and you groaned while sliding down the wall of the bathroom.

“I see everything you see you know.” He cackled, already amused by your response. “Don’t worry though, if you close your eyes I won't be able to see anything as long as you don’t open them.”

You simply kicked off your socks and slid into the tub fully clothed, earning a disappointed whine from the stupid Master of Death residing in your body. You began to scrub on whatever exposed skin you had, but you weren’t sure if you could ever feel clean with this asshole lurking inside you.

“You’re bathing in your clothes?” Katsuki whined, “You’re no fun.”

You didn’t respond, not really wanting to, but you figured you’d have to get used to eventually whether you liked it or not. It was going to be hell from here on out.

“Don’t worry, soon I’ll know all your dirty secrets.” He taunted as you sat in the tub sulking.

“Lady Layna, I kind of hate you.”

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 12

HI YALL IVE GOT A NEW CHAPTER OUT OF THE BLUE THAT I JUST WROTE BC @dansyellowshirt AND AN ANON WERE LOVELY AND MADE ME SMILE SO IVE BEEN TYPING FURIOUSLY FOR THE PAST HOUR OR SO ENJOYYYY

Tags for chapter: F L U F F, kissing

Words for chapter: ~2.7k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

When Dan woke up it was dark in his flat. The television was off—which was not how Dan remembered leaving it—and none of his lights were on. The only source of light in the whole flat were the blinds on his big window being drawn, letting the moonlight filter into the room and giving everything the softest edge.

He groaned after a moment of realizing that he was awake, shuffling his body a little to try and get more comfortable. It was dark—obviously he wasn't supposed to be awake yet if the sun wasn't even up so why the fuck was he?

Dan started to try and think back to what had happened earlier to put him in this position, however, when he started to move, whatever he was lying on top of shifted as well and let out a soft-yet-very human sound. Dan held his breath and suppressed a scream. What the fucking hell-

Dan tried to jerk his body up into a sitting position only to fail due to some kind of weight resting on the small of his back. His heart still racing, Dan snapped up his neck instead of his whole body only to come face-to-face with Phil's sleeping one.

What the goddamn hell-

Oh.

Everything came rushing back to him all at once, and relieved at the fact that he hadn't been tied down to his couch by burglars or something just as utterly ridiculous in his sleep, Dan let out a breath and relaxed against Phil, feeling the anxiety in his system start to drain out.

His peace of mind didn't last long, though, because half a heartbeat later he was blushing horribly and his head was already thinking of a million different excuses to...to explain whatever this was.

Phil was lying on his back on the sofa, head propped up against the armrest. Dan was curled on top of him, his head tucked under Phil's neck and right up on his chest (Dan had a feeling that Phil's chin had been resting on his head while they had both been asleep. The thought made his heart race a little bit faster). Their bodies were tangled together under the duvet, their legs intertwined and Phil's arms cast around Dan's waist, Dan's own arms pulled under himself. The duvet itself was draped over the both of them in a bit of a mess, slipping off of the sofa and onto the floor at the one corner.

Dan glanced up once again. Phil's face was smushed comically against the junction of the back of the couch and the armrest, mouth parted and hair sticking up in more ways than what was probably physically possible. His glasses—when the fuck had they appeared?—were askew and slipping off the bridge of his nose. Dan felt a dopey smile spread across his face. Phil was adorable when he was sleeping but still as much of an endearing mess as he was when he was awake. Unbelievable.

He reached up and lifted the black frames from Phil's face, gently to try and avoid waking the older man. Phil didn't even stir, and Dan twisted around, reaching with his arm out to place the glasses on his coffee table. Phil grumbled in his sleep at Dan's fidgeting and brought his arms a little tighter around Dan's waist, one of his legs twitching. Dan snorted out of amusement, but settled back into place and held himself still.

Under normal circumstances, Dan's head would be going crazy. He would be unconsciously psychoanalyzing everything in the situation and he would be doubting himself in his normal manner. But in a pleasant change of heart—or mind, rather—his head was staying blissfully quiet. Dan didn't have an explanation for it; it might have been because of waking up not too long ago, or maybe because he had absolutely exhausted himself with all of his emotional distress lately, or something else. Regardless, Dan wasn't going to force it. The quiet thoughts were a welcome change.

Dan let his eyes drift up past Phil's face and to the exposed window and the stars outside of it. He had always loved to look at the stars ever since he was younger, and now that he was laying on top of Phil, letting himself be held, his head quiet, everything was so much better. If time decided to freeze right at this moment, Dan wouldn't even care.

~~~~~

The next thing Dan knew, he was yawning and cracking his eyes open.

He groaned from the light nearly blinding him as soon as he lifted his eyelids even a little bit, and moved to tuck his face into the couch cushions, but ended up snuggling down further into the duvet still draped over him and shifting his whole body as well to try and get more comfortable. Dan started to nod off once more, when he suddenly realized that he was alone on said sofa.

Picking his head up and blearily opening his eyes, Dan looked around the lounge. He didn't see Phil anywhere, but his glasses weren't on the coffee table anymore.

Did he leave?

Dan jumped as a loud yelp sounded form the kitchen and as well as what Dan could only guess was something metal—a fork or knife, maybe—clattering to the ground.

"Phil?"

Dan didn't get an answer, but he could hear Phil muttering to himself in the background, so very reluctantly, Dan rolled off of the couch and tugged the duvet tighter around his shoulders, not willing to give up the comfort just yet. Dan padded into the kitchen. A large handful of his cabinets were open and there were two bowls of cereal on the counter, the box of Crunchy Nut that Dan had left on the floor yesterday next to the poured cereal. Phil was bent over, picking up a spoon from the floor, which was probably what Dan had heard falling.

"Phil?" Dan said again, with a bit of a yawn this time, rubbing his eye. He was tired as hell.

Phil jumped about a dozen feet into the air and dropped the spoon yet again, it clattering away from Phil's foot. Phil spun around with a hand on his chest, eyes wide.

"Dan! You scared me!"

"Phil," Dan sighed, rolling his eyes a little but smiling nonetheless, "sometimes I'm surprised by you, really."

"Look, here I am trying to get us both a nice breakfast-"

"Of cereal? Scratch that, of my cereal?"

"Oh shut it. Like I said, here I was, being the perfect guest and you just scare me. Rude." Phil said, sticking his tongue out and picking up the dropped silverware. He slid the now-dirty spoon into Dan's sink and went to reach for another, but Dan stopped him.

"Don't bother, I don't think I have any milk to pour in anyways, so we don't really need spoons as long as you don't have some weird 'no-eating-with-hands' thing I need to know about." Dan walked over and picked up his bowl of cereal, giving Phil a little, appreciative smile. "C'mon, we can eat in the lounge on my couch."

Dan didn't really wait for Phil, but he could hear him moving—presumably—to follow Dan. As an afterthought, Dan called over his shoulder, "And close the cabinet doors!" to which Phil replied with a very indignant sounding "Yes, mum!"

Within a few moments of Dan dropping himself back onto the couch, Phil was there as well, sitting on the other end, their legs both in the middle and on top of each other. Dan was reminded of a few nights ago, with them playing video games, his feet draped over Phil's lap, and what happened after. Dan looked at Phil out of the corner of his eye. He didn't really mind if he could get the chance to kiss Phil again. But the question was; did Phil?

They ate in silence, but it wasn't an oppressive one, just the two of them munching and enjoying each other's company. Dan's thoughts were still a little hopeful, a little wary, but he tried to keep them tame enough to not show; he didn't want to ruin this with his insecurities.

Dan finished his breakfast first, and he tapped his fingers against the ceramic for a few moments before he gave in.

"Hey, Phil?"

"Yeah?"

He had to know.

"Last night you said we wouldn't talk about anything until I slept, and well...I don't have work for-" Dan looked at the clock on his wall, "-another hour." He purposely left half of his question unsaid, and Phil nodded in understanding, making Dan simultaneously breathe out a little sigh of relief and tighten his grip on his bowl in anxious anticipation.

"Just because of time, I don't think we should talk about anything too heavy," Phil began, finishing the bite in his mouth and swallowing, "but, I think you're right. We do have a bunch of stuff to sort out."

"Mhm...what do you, uh, want to sort out then?" Dan asked. He felt nervous and unlike earlier, he was sure that it showed with how his fingers wouldn't stop moving along the ceramic and how his shoulders were tense and pulled tight to his body.

Phil just smiled and plucked the empty bowl from Dan's hand, putting both of their bowls on the table near them and scooting forward. Phil clasped one of their hands together, and with the skin-on-skin contact his heart started to beat a little bit happier in his chest. Phil leaned in until their faces were close enough for Dan to see the starbursts of his eyes, and let his other hand fall to the side of Dan's head.

"Can I kiss you, Dan?" Phil asked, his voice low.

"Yes," Dan breathed, his voice even quieter than Phil's.

This kiss wasn't like the ones they shared that night. It was softer, but still filled to the brim with emotion. These emotions, however, weren't like the powerful, fast, desperate ones that had dominated their kisses before. They were much more gentle, filled with a more soothing warmth, and—dare he say it—drenched in a feeling that Dan couldn't help but think as something similar to adoration.

Phil's mouth was warm and his lips were velvet soft, dragging across Dan's, his thumb brushing Dan's cheekbone over and over, making Dan's head spin. Dan's eyes had long drifted closed, and he just let himself relax into the cushions, absolutely melting under the kisses Phil was giving him.

He nipped at Dan's lip and pulled back, Dan's head following him until his neck just wouldn't stretch anymore and he had to let it fall back against the sofa, a pout on his features but not even caring if Phil saw.

"Phil, come back," Dan whined. Phil giggled at his antics, but decidedly didn't lean back in to kiss Dan breathless like he wanted him to. Instead, Phil brought their linked hands up so they could both see them and started to play with Dan's knuckles.

"Dan, I wasn't kidding when I said I've fallen for you, completely and utterly. You're Dan Howell and you have my heart, right here in your hands." Phil squeezed Dan's hand with his own. "I would love nothing more than if you gave me the chance to be your boyfriend. To take you out on dates, and watch shitty Netflix movies with, and dance in the kitchen with at 3AM when we certainly should be sleeping, and, yes, to play with your hair just like you said you love. I want to kiss you and surprise you at the coffee shop and do all the cheesy things couples do." Phil leaned in and dropped a series of little, feather-light kisses to Dan's forehead. "What do you say," he whispered, "will you give me the chance?"

"Phil," Dan said, drilling his eyes shut. He could feel his insecurities rising again, just as illogical as usual, and just as self-depreciative. "I can't love you completely, like how you deserve. If we were to date—and god, do I want to date you—you'd have to give up sex because I'm sorry but I'm too sex repulsed to try and do anything with you, and I'd never be able to stand anything like an open relationship, and-"

"Dan, Dan, shhh," Phil said, starting to stroke Dan's cheek again. It was incredibly soothing, and helped settled some of Dan's racing thoughts. "I don't care. I don't care. I can live perfectly content with never having sex again for the rest of my life if I have you, Dan. You are a thousand times better than sex, alright? And you can love me completely even if you aren't sexually attracted to me. I don't need physical pleasure to be happy or be loved 'as I deserve' even if that's what your ex and parents told you when you came out. All you need is love to give, and I have a feeling that you have a lot of that from shutting yourself out for so long."

Their gazes were connected, and Dan didn't know if he was going to start crying or laughing—maybe both. Phil was smiling gently, his eyes so tender in their expression, and Dan wanted nothing more than to kiss this man, to kiss him and hug him and just hide them both away from the world to just be happy together.

So that's what Dan did.

Dan surged forward, wrapping his arms around Phil's shoulders and pulling him in, their mouths crashing together. Dan kissed him like he was a dying man and he was trying to commit the feeling of Phil's mouth to memory, and Phil returned the sentiment just as eagerly, carding his hands through Dan's hair and following every press of Dan's lips with his own.

God, why did Dan ever try and deny himself from falling in love with Phil? Why did he get so caught up in being scared of what happened in the past to enjoy the future? Why didn't he start kissing this man sooner?

Dan didn't know any answers to his questions, but fuck it didn't matter.

They broke away because they had started to run out of air and Dan brought his hands up to Phil's face, cupping it, and nodding, shaking his head up and down furiously, moisture shining in his eyes. He couldn't help it—he didn't remember the last time he had felt. So. Loved. And. Accepted.

"Yes, yes yes yes, Phil, god, I'd want nothing more," Dan whispered, chasing his own words with little kisses on Phil's cheeks, his nose, his forehead, everywhere.

Phil's entire face lit up like the fucking sky and a smile blinding enough to shadow the sun took over his face. He brought them back together, and this time their kiss was slow, both of them smiling into it, wrapped up in each other.

"Daniel Howell, you just made me the happiest man on this side of the Thames."

~~~~~

No matter how much Dan might not have wanted to, they had to disentangle themselves much sooner than preferable because Dan had to shower and get ready for work. He had already been let off the hook by Jaime once, and he refused to leave her hanging like that for a second day in a row. Plus, he needed the money desperately.

However, things were different than his normal routine. Because when he got out of the shower, Phil kissed him on the way in. Because Phil was standing in his kitchen, scrolling on his phone, in Dan's own clothes because Phil only had his Tesco's uniform and he had already slept in it last night. Because they had walked out together, Phil's hand snaking down to intertwine in Dan's within a block of leaving Dan's flat. Because Phil had gone out of his way to walk Dan to work even if it was in the opposite direction of his own flat. Because Phil kissed Dan sweetly on the lips before letting him go, promising to stop in later.

But as Dan walked in the shop, a million emotions swirling in his chest, threatening to burst, they settled, each one fluttering away until only one was left, making Dan's limbs feel light and warm, putting a dumbstruck smile on his face that he knew would end up lasting the whole day.

Dan was happy.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

[macdvnaldarchive]

MODERN AU : mary, the struggling uni student.

some trigger warnings; there’s talk of racism in here, as well as violence motivated by racism, mentions of ptsd

history.

mary grew up in ullapool, still. middle child to a mexican mother and scottish father, both dairy farmers, growing up running around the highlands and grinning with grass stains on her knees. tbf, the first eleven years of her life aren’t much different in this au, besides the fact that she grew up watching different tv programs and was a ‘90s kid, rather than a ‘60s one.

so let’s talk about mary as a preteen. mary went to a small secondary school in her hometown, where there wasn’t anyone who looked like her besides her sister and brothers. she was clever, though, highly so: an exceptional student, her teachers would say, but she does like to talk. mary was a loud kid, present, maybe even a bit rambunctious. 

and she was mostly angry. because this was a small town in scotland, not a big city, and people were quick to judge their only brown classmates. i think in this au, mary would deal a lot more with racism than she did in the wizarding world -- not that it doesn’t exist there, because i think it does. still, hogwarts was a more diverse place, whereas she was one of a handful of students of colour at her school. when she came out the closet as bi at fifteen -- she didn’t know the word pan yet, which she would later use to identify -- things only seemed to get worse. ullapool was traditional, there wasn’t much acceptance concerning sexuality ( her parents struggled with it too, deeply, but didn’t look at her the way some of her classmates did ).

when she is sixteen, mary is jumped when walking home from a friends’ house in the evening. there’s no real reason why, besides bigotry, besides prejudice and racism. maybe it was sparked by something she had said, or tweeted, or shared --- it doesn’t matter. it shouldn’t happen, and still it does. there is no excuse. they’re boys from year 13, a year above her, a bit older, but not at all more mature. they go three against one. mary shatters the bones in her left arm and comes home with a black eye and a bleeding nose.

nothing happens, to the boys. they’re not expelled, because it was near the end of the year, so it’d be a pity to keep them from graduating. they’d be gone in a bit anyway. besides, it didn’t happen on schoolgrounds. her principal throws excuses at her head and she sits there, boiling with rage. 

she has nowhere else to go; there’s no schools to transfer to that are nearby enough. and so she keeps going to school, her rage still quietly simmering while she keeps her head down. people sign her cast. she goes to therapy, gets diagnosed with PTSD -- she keeps having flashbacks, keeps hearing their voices, can feel the punches landing still -- and tries to keep moving.

when they move away for university, she feels lighter. not healed, sure, but lighter. her anger finds a place, as she starts writing down her thoughts, she talks about the racism at her school online, because in ullapool no one will listen. people do online. it’s her outlet, her one way of dealing with all this without having to unload it on her family, or worse: friends who don’t get it. 

this is where things are very different from wizarding world mary and muggle mary: she doesn’t think a second about joining the law enforcement. that organisation is a hundred times bigger in the UK, and there’s no war, which takes the pressure off --- the motivation is just not there, at all. in stead, she goes to university with high hopes: she wants to change the world, to talk about grating issues, to shed light on the bullshit people are put through because of things not in their control.

she’s majoring in sociology with a minor in media and communication. mary has developed a website/network/organisation (weallbleedred.co.uk). it speaks up against any forms of discrimination  and is supposed to be a place where people can talk about experiences and bond together to oppose discrimination. it’s not as big as she’d like it to be, but it’s growing.

she’d like to do more NGO kind of work, might want to join Amnesty once she graduates and work for them. weallbleedred -- or red, for short -- is important, though, and it’s helping people, and so she’s not going to let it die. mary is idealistic as hell. she speaks up about her experiences, and is determined to make some changes in the world.

she’s getting nearer and nearer to graduation, and she’s excited. she’s also damned tired, because university is what? exhausting. relatable as hell.

modern & muggle stuff.

the reason she’s doing a communication and media minor? she’s fucking in love with social media. mary thinks it’s an amazing way to communicate and it has helped her so much. when she was dealing with the trauma of her attack, there were people there. when she was trying to figure out how sexuality worked, it was there. there were people there from all corners around the world, ready to talk to her, and she loved it.

she also just rly enjoys snapchat filters and scrolling down instagram, especially when procrastinating

has a fair amount of followers, too, due to her website and all

has an android phone, likes getting into android vs apple fights. 

she plays football and absolutely loves it. gets really into it, too, will talk about the scottish football league forever with you. her team is ross county!!

watches a lot of documentaries and movies on netflix because she likes them better than tv shows generally? can be woken up for the office and parks and rec any night, though, and does love reality tv. also likes htgawm and dwp.

mary lives in a small, shitty apartment that she shares with four people in glasgow. she hates it, but she loves the city and she loves the campus, so she’s not often found at home, tbh

wants to stay in glasgow, or maybe move to edinburgh --- she likes the highlands, but is also tired of living in a place that’s so conservative and doesnt have starbucks’ everywhere.

is a vegetarian. 

cannot drive a car, but can drive a tractor lmao. plans on getting her license eventually!! uses a bike to get most places in glasgow, tbh, or public transport (which she complains about a fair bit)

mostly wears levi’s, converse and loose jumpers or shirts. not a style icon, but there’s an aesthetic there. literally owns like 2 pairs of jeans bc levi’s cost too! damn! much! but she loves them and they were worth it.

works at a tesco and absolutely hates it, but hey! she needs the money.

conclusion.

mary would have gone into therapy, which she did not do in this verse. this definitely helps, it helps a lot. she can deal with her trauma, process it, and that’s something she never really did in this verse. i think that mary ends up less ... messy because of it?

the non-war setting also definitely helps

mary would still have a ruthless side to her, i think? it just works differently in this setting. she’d drag people without hesitation, would write long articles about people on her website, etcetera. mary doesn’t hesitate a lot. less, probably, because there’s less risk.

that’s it. i think???

[gingerstarburns]

Zimbits: “What’s Your Name?”

(So, in the end I wrote a short drabble for that Your Name AU. I’m not gonna write more, so if someone wants to “adopt” this fic and continue it feel free! Just tag me bc I NEED TO READ IT. Also, if you haven’t seen the movie Your Name go watch it now. There’s angst in the middle with a happy ending.)

Eric woke up all at once.

The first thing he noticed were the tears in his eyes. He had a weird, sad dream, but for some reason...he couldn’t remember it.

Then he realised his alarm was different than usual. He reached out to turn it off but it wasn’t in the usual place. Uh-uh.

He sat up and…

I must still be dreaming.

There wasn’t another explanation. Because this wasn’t his room at all. A pale light was filtering from the windows, revealing blank walls instead of his Beyoncè posters and dull IKEA furniture.

Looking around, he saw the alarm on the bedside table, on the opposite side he was used to. He grabbed it, turned it off and stared at it.

5.30 am.

He was still trying to wrap his head around it when, looking down, had another realization.

This is not my body.

His legs were long, exaggeratedly muscular and covered in dark hair. He put his hands on his thighs and moved them down to his knees, caressing the skin. It felt...nice. Definitely weird, but nice.

He got up and felt dizzy for a second. He felt taller than usual and it was as if his barycenter had been moved upwards. Something wasn’t right, but he told himself it was just a dream so it was ok.

He looked around again and spotted a full figure mirror. He approached it cautiously and slowly peered at it.

That was...definitely not his body. He was tall and well built, had a head full of dark messy hair and droopy blue eyes. He flexed an arm and watched the muscles bulge out. Then he turned around to take a better look and...wow.

He had an ass that was a work of art. Very slowly, he put a hand over one cheek and squeezed it. And for some reason, that was what made him realize.

This isn’t a dream.

He yelled, and some seconds later an even bigger man barged into the room.

A thousand miles away, Jack Zimmermann woke up in a tiny southern baker’s body.

---

(Under the cut a conversation me and @peppernine had on the Providence Ice chat. MAJOR SPOILERS ABT THE MOVIE! You should probably watch it or read a synopsis to understand what’s being said here. Also angst with a happy ending, warnings under the cut)

(warning: temporary major character death)

GingerStellaGiulia: @Meg [SPOILER] I need you to imagine 1) jack finding out what happened to bitty 2) bitty reading the "I love you" and going "this boy..." You're welcome

 Meg: @GingerStellaGiulia why do you play with my heart this way @GingerStellaGiulia Ok but Jack learning how to make pies and helping Bitty become more confident and Bitty learning how to play hockey and helping Jack make more friends

 GingerStellaGiulia: Bitty baking a pie for camilla bc he knows jack has a crush no her and then crying when he's back home. Jack trying to fight bittys bullies. Also shitty and lardo as bittys bffs  Lardo: bitty you were...weird yesterday Bitty: weird? Shitty: well for starters you didn't bring any pie Bitty: I DIDNT WHAT

 Meg: Ok I know you touched on it in your wip but Jack and Bitty having to get used to the sheer difference in SIZE in each other

GingerStellaGiulia: Oh, and bitty writing "hockey robot" on Jack's face and spending half his paycheck in baking supplies 

Meg: Jacks continuous notes to "eat more protein" on bittys arm

 GingerStellaGiulia: I swear I'm gonna make a post and copy-paste this conversation xD Bitty-in-jacks-body fainting on the ice when tater checks him during practice omg

 Meg: OMG yes Bitty befriending tater and jack being like ???? We don't know each other that well when tater is, you know, being tater

 GingerStellaGiulia: Bitty befriending camilla and one day she goes "hey jack!" and slaps his ass out of nowhere and jack just. Blacks out for half a minute Jack, camilla and tater going to georgia together Help I need to stop

 Meg: Nope you're heading into the Sad territory

 GingerStellaGiulia: Jack reading "eric richard bittle" on the victims list and asking "when did this happen" bc it must have been maybe a week and somebody telling him "3 years ago" and him just. Realizing.

 Meg: NO NO

 GingerStellaGiulia: Then he goes at this graveyard in the middle of nowhere where bitty used to bring pie to his moomaws grave bc "a bit of sweetness can somehow bring back your loved ones" and he goes with this pie he bought along the way, starts talking to the grave like bitty used to do, then when hes abt to leave he thinks he sees something behind it but slips and falls aaaand suddendly hes in bittys body again!!!! And he remembers that bitty went all the way to providence to meet him three years before And then he saves everyone

 Meg: AHHhhHhhhhH absolutely

 GingerStellaGiulia: annnnd then they both forget what happened but bitty moves to providence bc "it feels right" and opens a bakery and jack one day walks in and they. they just start crying and they don't know why.

 Meg: OH YES Bitty asking for Jacks name so he can take the order and then just looking up to realize who is standing above him. And jacks changed quite a bit but he's still got those startling blue eyes

 GingerStellaGiulia: but he doesn't say anything bc that was just a dream right?? he cant know this man. amd jacks going through the same mental process but then he turns around to walk away and bitty goes "WAIT A MINUTE I KNOW THAT ASS" so he calls him and when jack turns around theyre both cryingggg also let's pretend bitty is totally oblivious to the citys hockey legends even after living there for a year. like, somehow he always changed the channel before jacks interviews, was always focused on something else when passing a billboard, etc

 Meg: I think that's fair! He wouldn't really be into hockey much but he thought it was a dream/didn't remember it right

 GingerStellaGiulia: also, when they meet in the graveyard jack almost writes "eat more protein" on bittys hand but then he goes with "i love you", but that would have been hilarious too xD

(Aaand that’s it. if someone wants to write it, please feel free!)