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yibennianyaji · 1 year

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In which I liveblog Beyond Re-Animator so you don’t have to.

Spoilers: this movie is an absolute hoot. You can see the exact moment when I begin realizing I’m actually having a good time

Oh it starts with a fakeout jump scare, that’s fun. And the murder of a babysitter. Cool, cool.

I mean, I guess, that’s on canon with Herbert not keeping track of his zombies, but even Bride tried to start with some class.

Please tell me this small, sad child is going to grow up to try to murder Herbs. I feel like that’s where this is going.

HERBERT WHY ARE YOU EVEN THERE. WHY DID THE POLICE NOT PICK UP THAT OBVIOUSLY GLOWING SYRINGE SO THAT THE SMALL CHILD COULD GET IT.

TIME SKIP AHOY (go back movie, I demand to know what Herbert was doing in the suburbs, and was this before or after Dan tried to leave him for the umpteenth time)

Oh my God Herbert you can’t just steal peoples’ pet rats, this is how you start prison riots.

Holy shit is vengeance kid played by BABY EDWARD NORTON?

DOES THAT MEAN THIS MOVIE IS WILL GRAHAM VERSUS HERBERT WEST

Yes this is our DEATH wing of the prison where we bring DEATH down on condemned inmates and they sure do stay DEAD yessir no problems with the DEAD here

Ah, and I see the warden will be playing our Doctor Hill for the evening

To this movie’s credit at least it’s moving at a quick lil pace

Norton are you here to play an angrier Dan. Did they literally just say “okay we still want to do the same thing but we’re scared of having two older dudes in the lead.”

Oh, baby Graham is just dispensing with the backstory aaaaand he is totally on board with Herbert I AM INTRIGUED WITH THIS DEVELOPMENT.

“Yo I saved this reagent for 13 years and got it past the guard with no trouble so, here you go.”

WHY ARE YOU SURPRISED THAT HE’S TRYING TO USE IT ON THE DEAD PATIENT.

Herbert “short term memory loss” West doesn’t bother to watch the zombie for longer than a minute

Well at least he learned, don’t approach the violent dead.

WAITAMINNNUT THIS IS JUST THE MORGUE SCENE AGAIN. I’m on to you movie.

EYYYYYYY is this lady character actually going to get to have plot agency? NEAT

OH HERBERT NO. YOU REALLY ARE TRYING TO USE HIM AS A REPLACEMENT DAN. This does not end well for you. Just ask James Sunderland.

(And HOW COLD IS THAT, move. Not even flashbacks, just one line about Dan giving testimony for the prosecution. COLD).

Wait, so the zombie that killed bby Norton’s sister was from the Miskatonic morgue…which means it would have to be from the original film because it would take some REAL SWEET TALKING to undo Bride….ARE THEY TRYING TO DECANONIZE THE MIDDLE MOVIE. SHAME.

Okay I don’t remember either of you you kids’ names but you’ve got some cute chemistry

Herbs do not use the puppy eyes on the kid it’s not the same

Ah, it’s not a ReAnimator movie without some real awkward fuckin.

“He doesn’t seem human anymore.” Because his precious assistant turned him over and broke his tiny sociopathic heart, baby Will Graham. A future version of you will understand (Imma go down with this ship, internet. Keep spinning in that grave, HP).

Ooh, reporter gal is real good at her job

Aw Herbert, you’ve worked your way up to sciencing the soul! I’m very proud

Okay, ngl, the prison yard scene is the most Herbert thing and I love it.

Aaaaaaand demonic rat. Of course

Whoa. Not-Hill got his ear bit off AND THEN TOOK IT BACK

OH MY GOD THIS POOR GIRL

Ohhhhhhhh Herbs has his “lol ethics” hat on

Okay FUCK YOU MOVIE I LIKED HER. THIS FRIDGING IS BULLSHIT

Also bby Norton’s raw rage is a touch harder to buy than Dan’s was. She was a nice girl, but they’d only had a few dates.

Oh yeah, untie her. Good plan.

Kuds to this gal, she’s giving it her all.

THIS RAT FIGHT SCENE DEMANDS A SCREENSHOT HONESTLY

Wow, this prison allows a fuckton of leniency on its mad scientist inmates

I see Herb has learned his - YOU DID NOT JUST SLAP HERBERT WEST. MURDER HIM, Y’ALL. MURDER THIS DUDE GOOD.

YES GOOD. Cross shot murders

Wow, it seems like opening all the prison cells should be harder than that

DO NOT SCREW THIS UP BBY NORTON THAT DUDE IS A RAPIST AND A SMOL SCIENTIST BEATER. FRY HIM.

Ugh, so hard to get a patient to give good feedback huh West

Aaaaaaand the soul carries the personality of course it does. YOU GAVE THE ASSHOLE DUDE NEW LIFE

Kudos again to this gal though (Elsa Pataky, I see - seems to be known for the Fast and the Furious movies?), she’s getting some fun stuff to play (although as “herself” mostly for the character that means screaming and cowering)

AND NOW WE ARE IN OUTLAST

OH MY GOD DOES THAT MAKE HERBERT DOC TRAEGER. THAT IS A CROSSOVER I NEED.

Vengeful Herbert is my favorite Herbert

Okay I lied, sassy Herbert is my favorite

And ohhhh there’s still half an hour of this left. Hurm.

Hey where did bby Nor- oh, there he is. Still making poor life decisions I see

HERBERT GUARD YOUR BACK. SERIOUSLY. THIS IS THE SAME THING THAT HAPPENED LAST TIME

Ey, seems like the Warden is a famous giallo actor? That’s neat

Awwwww, I was totally wrong about that being baby Ed Norton, too. I am saddened by this fact. No disrespect to Jason Barry, I just mourn all the Will Graham jokes

Oh bro, bro are you gonna reagent inmates just so you can kill em again? Dude. That’s….dude.

Aaaaaand the addict fellow found the reagent. Well, at least he’s having a good time.

That…is a weird place to include boobs, movie. THIS IS WEIRD ALL OVER

OH MY GOD WITH THESE PEOPLE AND THEIR WEIRD EMOTIONAL HANGUPS. Herbert. Honey

“That dude is DEAD THOUGH.”

“weeeeeell…..”

HERBERT GOT TO DO ANOTHER ONE OF HIS AWKWARD SIDE GLANCES I’M SO GLAD

THEY ARE SHOOTING THE ZOMBIE MAN TO TRIUMPHANT HORN MUSIC I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING HELP

Ohhhhh my God they just pulled an I Spit On Your Grave with the blowjob thing HOLY SHIT. I CAN’T EVEN

Bifurcated hanged man. Of couuuuuuuur he’s swinging it like a dead cat good lord

wait how WHERE DID THAT COSTUME CHANGE COME FROM

“This is mine” Herbert ARE YOU FIVE

I sense more intestine exploding coming

Herbert: holds up flashlight because FUCK IF HE’S GONNA MISS AN OPPORTUNITY

OH MY GOD THE MEAT SACK IS STILL - I CAN’T. I’M CRYING. HELP.

The rat is rolling the severed penis I’m kind of running out of words what is even

Herbert is done and he has a cane. There is a CROSS CUTTING BEAT DOWN

And the fight choreography is from the UFC WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING BACKFLIP CRAB CRAWL?

Goopy electrocution aaaaaand the rat drops the penis in slow mo because OF COURSE

Herbert’s OH SHIT NOT AGAIN face. I TOLD YOU NOT TO MAKE DAN 2.0

Aaaaaand he just takes his ID card and leaves like NOPE NOT DOIN THIS AGAIN

Everyone’s laughing, CLEARLY A HAPPY END

HERBERT STOP DISCARDING REANIMATED BODY PARTS AT RANDOM

And then he wandered off into the night. To find Dan and have a talk (HUSH it’s the only thing that can make this more perfect)

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

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A Losing Hand, Part 19

Summary: the devil made it to the Diamonds

Pairings: Steve Kemp X Nick Vaughan, Lloyd Hansen X Sunshine!Reader, Curtis Everett X James Mace, Curtis Everett X Sunshine!Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, death of a major character, PIV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, conspiracy, non con, misogynistic views, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.5K

Series Masterlist

*divider created by @firefly-graphics

A/N: for the first part of this, there’s going to be three storylines that are happening at the exact same time. So you’re going to have Steve Kemp meeting with Nick Vaughan, Lloyd Hansen and Sunshine, and then Curtis with Mace. So keep all that in mind for the first few parts.

Nick Vaughan looks around the new meeting area. His eyes scanning everywhere. He was warned by the King of Clubs that his whore was on to him, and to change the location. He had been on edge since then, more so when that fucking brat was born.

Andy’s whore becoming more and more suspicious of him, but thankfully too afraid to say anything. There were few people that Nick feared, and his cousin Andy was one of them. Ruthless, especially when it came to that bitch. Came back and ruined everything. All Nick has to do is work with Lloyd and then overthrow the Spade throne. Lloyd had conned his way into power and so shall he!

He takes a final puff of his cigarette and discards it on the ground, pulling up his wrist to look at his watch before he grunts out loud. Flicking his collar up, he stands a bit higher, that brand new blade tight on his side. Steve must expect nothing.

Nick’s mind wanders on how he can get rid of the golden trio as well. Rogers, Barnes, and Wilson had not only earned Andy’s whore’s trust, but Andy himself. Going soft for a bunch of brats and a stupid slut. Andy is a fool for trying to bend to Jefferson’s ideas. Women were not meant to lead, and definitely not in this life. They were meant to serve their king, and only reproduce to ensure the power stayed in the family.

A low roll of tires alerts him to Steve’s approach, and he gives his neck a few rolls and waits for the ridiculously late man. Glaring at him as he steps out of the car. Thinking what a shame it is that he’s going to die a quick death.

“Fifteen minutes late?” Nick pompously asks Steve who only shrugs.

“I have better things to do then come and meet with an errand boy for Andy fucking Barber. How is the new prince?” Nick doesn’t respond, just looks straight at Steve.

“Aw, has the wee little Nick not been able to fuck Andy’s wife? She not falling for your romantic tactics? Andy figured out that’s why he couldn’t keep a whore in his bed?”

“Andy doesn’t know shit. Protective of a slut’s bastard and now his own piece of shit baby. You would think that the Spades were the only suit the way they’re fucking celebrating.”

Steve takes a step closer, and peers at Nick, “You’re jealousy is making you weak. Just take what they don’t give you. Fear is the best way to rule a woman. Take it.”

“Says the man sharing his wife with Lloyd. Where’s she at right now?” Steve’s jaw pulses at the mention of Lloyd and his wife. “Didn’t see that one coming did you?”

“Do you think I love or value that cunt? She’s doing her fucking job and making Lloyd fall. One wrong move, and I have him. He’s pulling back on putting her on the front lines. Going into her fucking bedroom every goddamn night. I found that traitors weakness, and it’s my wife’s pussy! Now what the fuck did you want?”

Nick moves quickly. Too quick for Steve to even comprehend what is happening. Bringing out the sword, he slices through the air until he watches Steve’s body collapse with his head rolling to the side.

“Fucking asshole, you have no idea what you just told me. Lloyd has a weakness,” Nick cracks his head as he thinks about his growing knowledge of the suits. All these men becoming delicate for a place to wet their dicks.

He takes a picture of the body and sends it to Lloyd, “Now I gotta cause chaos for the Clubs. Let’s let Nicky know his little whore is fucking around with Ari. Poor thing will never get to have that cunt stretched out by him. Nicky will have her and Ari killed. I’m sure he’ll like the video footage.”

You pick up Medusa from her cage, holding her up to blow kisses at her, before bringing her to your chest. Her silky scales slither over your body, and you let the feeling soothe you. Living here with Curtis was becoming too hard. Having to watch him say the most vile things to you, when he was the one that left.

Proved your father wrong when he left you waiting. You hold your hand close to you as you twist that stupid ring around your finger. You couldn’t part with it, because regardless of what he felt, it was real to you. You believed every word he ever told you like it was written in stone.

Medusa slides around your neck, her tongue flicking at your sensitive skin, but you just sigh. You were a heart. Daughter of the King of Hearts, and you deserved better than the life you had been forced to live. A choice between living and dying, and you wished now Steve would have killed you.

You know you became a shell of yourself when the power was worth the use of your body. You knew that Steve didn’t love you, nor did he even value you apart from what you could do for him. It was always for him. At least with Lloyd you had a tiny bit of control, even if it was fleeting.

You can’t push aside the memories of you and Curtis, young and, what you felt was, in love. He was a good actor, and you hated him for it.

“Put that fucking bitch up,” Lloyd grunts as he walks through your door. That eerie and calm madness coating the inside of your bedroom the moment he walked in.

“What’s the matter, Baby Bear, you scared of a little snake?”

“Just put the fucking thing away. I need you right now. We need to have a little chat,” you don’t turn to look at Lloyd. Just give Medusa a few kisses to her head before placing her into her home. Her beady eyes follow Lloyd as he walks over to your bed.

“Take off your clothes,” you don’t respond, just do as your told. Removing every inch of clothing slowly. Looking up at Lloyd through your lashes, while you watch him hardened in those tight khakis.

With every part you take off, he removes something from himself. He uses you in a completely different way than Steve. With Lloyd there is a calm to his madness. Not to mention his taste in food is much more palatable.

Lloyd sighs as you walk over to him, sinking to your knees when brings his pants and boxer briefs down. You crawl closer to him, grabbing his thick shaft, you softly kiss up the underside of him. Your eyes staring owlishly up at his dark blue ones when he lets out a little whimper. Kissing back down his length, you trace your tongue up that pretty vein. Reaching the tip, you tongue his slit before sinking over him. Taking as much of him as you possibly can before pulling out with a pop.

“Quit your playing, and ride your Baby Bear, while I talk,” you don’t waste time in crawling over him, pushing his shoulders hard, until he drops down, smiling up at you when you straddle him.

Grabbing firmly to his thick and heavy cock, until you slowly take every bit of him. Stilling only to rub your hands over his chest. He looks over to your clock, and grabs your hips. Forcing you to grind over him. “Just like this so you can listen.”

Slowly you follow his lead. Moving backwards and forwards as he soothingly slides his hands over your thighs. “Right about now, Nick Vaughan is meeting with your disgusting husband.”

“The Ace of Spades?” you hum, letting out a tiny moan when Lloyd nods his head. “Why? What business do we have with the Spades?”

“Everything. Nick has been gathering intel for us since that stupid girl left me. He’s still hasn’t had his way with her, and now there’s a baby,” Lloyd rolls his eyes. Centering himself while you continue to rock over him.

“Nick is going to get rid of our problem,” you whisper out a what, desperately needing to move to a squatting position where you can really fuck him. “Nick has been tasked with the beheading of Steve.”

“Why?” you ask as the panic rises in your voice. Only one person kills someone by offing their head. And that someone is married to your brother.

“I get rid of your husband. We cause chaos in the suits because, the beheading is going to look like Bunny is inciting war,” you stop your movements but Lloyd gives you a warning growl. “I did not tell you to stop.”

“Why do you want a war with the Hearts? Wh-what did Bunny do to you?”

“I want total domination. With you by my side, I can have that,” your motions pause again, and Lloyd tires of your stopping. Slinging you off his body, he crawls in between your legs, spreading them wide for him as he stares at your gaping hole.

“I will have what I want. But right now, I want you sobbing for your king. You’re mine now. All mine,” his voice raspy and low as he crashes back into you.

His pelvis pounds into you, as his fingers create tight circles on your clit.

“It’s just me and you. Can officially move you into the King’s suite, where you’ll become my little cumdump.”

“What?” your voice cries out.

“I don’t share. I did tell Curtis to fuck you,” he pounds into your harder, his hand sticky with your arousal moving up your front. That thumb presses slightly over your neck, before he grabs you tightly around the sensitive column.. “But I’m going to keep you all to myself.

Curtis walks down the hallway to your bedroom, ready to get the screaming match over. He had saw Steve leave the compound, and was sure Lloyd was soon to follow. Finally some alone time, so he can tell you how fucking disappointed in you he is. How everything between the two of you was always a lie, and how he wants his mother’s ring back.

Mace finally catches up to his brother before he pulls him into an unused room, “What the fuck?” Curtis asks punching him the face.

“Ow, mother fucker,” Mace screams punching Curtis. “It’s your brother, you son of a bitch. Damn your punch still hurts the worse.”

“Mace what the hell?” Curtis smiles, wrapping his arms around his brother in a tight embrace. “Where have you been?”

“Lloyd thought I was better suited as a lower ranking. Moved me down to a pawn, and hidden from everyone so they didn’t realize an actual Diamond royalty is still in the fucking suit. Where the hell are you going? Your room is in the opposite direction?”

Curtis looks at his brother oddly, before turning towards the door, “I’m going to get mom’s ring back from a Diamond whore.”

“Ahh, pissed off about that are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Lying skank…she…she’s in bed with disgusting people and for what? Addicted to the power? The sex? Or…”

“Protection,” Curtis scoffs at his brother still trying to get out, when Mace grabs him by the shoulders and slams him on a chair. “Where were you at all these years? You left us here to rot.”

“I was doing the Dealer’s bidding. It was my fault dad’s dead.”

Mace rolls his eyes, backhanding his older brother. Curtis stands eye to eye with Mace, when the younger brother shoves him back down. “I’ve viewed that footage over and over. Why the hell would you think it was your fault?”

“Lloyd…he said,” Curtis stops trying to remember that night. “He…”

“It was a fucking assassination. Bullet straight to the heart, and it was your fault how?”

“I was the Jack…I should have jumped in front of the bullet.”

“You were young, and didn’t know that he had a sniper after his ass,” Mace flicks him in the head. “Who else was in the goddamn room? Another pawn. It was his word against yours. And you thought the suits was going to believe him? God you’re so dense. All you could think about was leaving. You thought that the suits wouldn’t turn down your proposal if it meant you or Lloyd?”

“How did he rise to power?” Curtis asks, while Mace shakes his head no, refusing now to look at his brother. “It should have gone to you, or even…what happened to Wilfred?”

“Shot in the head.”

“How did Lloyd rise to power?”

“You see…our mother, God rest her soul, was a saint. Most Kings weren’t the most loyal to their wives,” Curtis shakes his head no at him. “He’s got the DNA test to prove it. Lloyd is our brother.”

“Mother fucker. She would go to a brother,” Curtis goes to stand, and Mace pushes him back down again. “What the hell is your problem? I won’t have the hand of a whore wearing mom’s ring.”

“That mouth. God, you would have shot someone if they dared to call your Snowdrop a whore. Didn’t you have words with her father after you took his daughter? Didn’t you tell him if he called her a whore one more time, he would wind up dead? He called his daughter a whore one more time and then laughed in your face when you couldn’t pull the trigger, told you that you would never be a good king. I guess we’ll never know.”

“She’s not mine anymore.”

“Is she not? She still wears the ring.”

“She also lays underneath two Diamonds. The King and the Ace, how convenient.”

Mace laughs at his brother, clearly unaware of anything. “Do you know anything about Steve Kemp? About Lloyd Hansen? You think she has a choice in laying underneath them? Steve kidnapped her after a date. Gave her a choice to be eaten or the marry him. Used her to become the Ace of Diamonds. Oh, didn’t know that did you? Didn’t know he used her to seduce Lloyd, ease herself in bed with him, while talking up his ass. She did it, thinking that Steve would leave her alone. Nope, he wanted her to convince Lloyd to let him in. Told Lloyd he could use a man with no morals. Lloyd made a lot of kills with him. The bodies are easily disposed of. Made the suit a lot of money by selling human meat. These rich people man.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“I’m saying, she’s surviving,” Curtis laughs at his little brother, listening to his ramblings about you. “She told me. Told me Steve’s plans for her. I was her only safe spot. That woman still loves you. You spit on her.”

“I spit beside her.”

“She’s holding on to any hope she has, and it was you. She’s a woman living in the Diamonds, where they think women are playthings. Breeding tools to further the line. And you come back acting all holier than thou because you worked for the Dealer? You left her to die. Fed her to the wolves, and she can’t talk about you, because they’ll kill her. If they knew she had ties to the rightful King, they would make you watch as they tore her body limb from limb and you act so mightier than her. Where have you been? You telling me there wasn’t any woman that kept you warm?”

Curtis stares off into the distance, because it’s true, he wasn’t celibate, but they were all faceless and nameless. Because they were never you. “Exactly. You know she believes that you two were supposed to run off together?”

“We were.”

“Convinced herself it was a lie when you never showed. Doesn’t even know the day you were supposed to leave was the day all hell broke loose. Didn’t know there was a vote for a new Jack because the mighty Curtis Everett was leaving the suit life. Only to become the Dealer’s whore. We’re all whores here Curtis. A slave to this chess game orchestrated by the Dealer and his Cleaner. Some of us sell our bodies, some of us sell our skills, some of us are whores so we don’t die. Holding on to hope that our true love will save us. You’re the only thing that kept her alive. Even though she believes you used her. Blame her for the life she’s living, but she’s breathing because of it.”

Curtis looks towards the door, and Mace nods. “You get it now, huh? She’s nothing but a plaything for Steve. A tool to further his power. Lloyd I think it’s more complicated.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’ll never love another and he’s falling.”

Curtis stands quickly, knocking his brother to the ground as he dashes out the door. Rushing to your room, but slows down when he hears voices.

Lloyd pounds into you harshly, gripping tightly to your neck. “We can finally make it official. Everyone already knows how you’re my whore. You were with me more than him anyways, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you pant out. Your body spent and sore, but still Lloyd demands more.

“Look at you, cockdrunk, and still this cunt’s got me in a vice grip. She needs it. Begging me for it.”

“Lloyd,” you whimper up at him, eyes drifting close, as another orgasm rushes through your body.

“There she is. Gonna finally fill you full. Claim you, even though I knew your husband was shooting blanks. Gonna fill you up until your swollen with my son,” you can’t protest, even if you wanted to. The way he stabs into you with such force, taking your breath and ability to think away.

Lloyd gives a final thrust into your abused cunt, and you feel his warmth for the first time. Your eyes blinking away tears, only to see his sinister smirk. “You’re going to be absolutely beautiful as my cumdump. Everyone will know. They’ll know that you belong to Lloyd Hansen.”

Curtis stares angrily at your door, hearing those words, and never a reply from you. Wanting to slam his fist into your door, but instead chooses to walk away in defeat. Thinking that everything that Mace had told him was a lie.

Curtis doesn’t give you time to wake up before he’s throwing clothes at your bed, “Get up. I thought I told you, I wasn’t going to have you sleeping the day away.”

“Go to hell,” you sleepily answer. Stretching a bit before turning back to the other side. Your mind racing with everything that happened, and you can’t be bothered with his presence.

“I said get the fuck up.”

“And I said go to hell.”

“You first, Snowdrop,” you turn to look at him, glaring at him, wanting to shout every expletive that you know. “Oh that’s right princess, you don’t go by the name anymore do you, Sunshine? Does your precious Lloyd even know what whore he keeps in his bed.”

“I’ve told you once already, you son of a bitch, this is my room!”

“Take it back,” he whispers at you, and you give him an odd look. “Take it back!”

“What, you piece of shit? I can’t read minds, can’t believe a filthy liar anyways.”

“My mother isn’t a bitch!”

“She sure did raise one!”

Curtis pounces on you, his hand grabbing at your own, and it isn’t until he connects to your ring that you realize what you’re doing. “No whore will wear her ring.”

“Get the fuck off of me!”

“You want the ring,” he yells down at you. Gathering your wrists he slams them above your head before his thighs go in between yours. Your body flails around, trying to knee him or anything, but he over powers you quickly.

“No! Don’t! Curtis, don’t do this!”

“You can keep it as payment. And if I’m paying for a whore, I’ll get what I came for,” licking a long stripe up his free hand, he buries it in your folds and chuckles. “Just like a whore, already wet.”

“Fuck you!” you gather up saliva and spit up at him.

“No, no, I’m the one that’s gonna fuck you,” he pulls down his pants, and you try fruitlessly to push your legs together, crying up at him. “Lying cock sucker. Nothing but a filthy little Diamond whore.”

His words hurting more than his body when it crashes into you. And you scream out all the pain and bitterness you’ve held in all these years, only to have him hold his hand over your mouth.

Curtis’ cock shove into you, and you lose all will to fight anymore. Things were never like this with him, and he’s proven you wrong one more time. It isn’t until he feels your salty tears that he moves his hand off of you. “Got anything left to say, Snow?”

“No,” you whisper out, turning your head to the side. “Just be like the rest of them. Take what you fucking want, and leave me nothing more than wet skin.”

“You weren’t. I loved you,” you look back up at him, and his thrusts stop. “I loved you.”

“You left me. Left me to die. I wish I would have.”

“What?”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you push him deeper, “Take what you want and leave.”

He drops the hold he has on your wrists, deeply breathing at you. Your lip trembles, and the anger turns into just hurt. “Go on take it! That’s all you wanted anyways.”

“I was gonna marry you,” you blow a puff of air at him, having to look away again. “What happened to you?”

“I waited for you Curtis. I waited three damn days, and you never showed you lied. And when I left, my stupid self came back to Diamond territory to tell you of, but…then I met Steve. Trusted him enough to take me on a date, all to prove I didn’t love you, but…I wound up in a basement, tied up and he told me either he would eat me or I work with him. I thought how bad could it be?”

“Snow…”

“No! I told you not to fucking pity me,” you growl out through your teeth. “I’m here. I survived. It’s not a perfect life, but…I don’t wanna be with Lloyd. I want out. But god, just get off of me,” he pulls himself out of you, but his eyes never leave your body as you throw on another man’s shirt. Walking over to Medusa’s terrarium, you pick her up, nuzzling against her nose.

“I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to become a concubine, but I’m alive. I am feared and loved. And Steve is gone.”

“Lloyd’s next,” you turn to look at him rolling your eyes. “I couldn’t leave. There was a vote, I told my dad I was leaving to be with you, and while we were talking, he was shot. Lloyd was in there and told me it was all my fault that the bullet was meant for me, and he would tell the suit how I didn’t rush to save the king.”

Curtis walks closer to you, and his shadow touches you before a calming hand to your arm. He runs his hand down your arm, and his voice starts cracking with tears. “I didn’t have choice. It was chaos. Another vote, and Lloyd was made king, I was kicked out, and I went to the cabin and you were gone. Harlan met me there and gave me a proposition of becoming the Ghost so I could look for you.”

“Curtis, stop.”

“That’s not what you used to call me. Remember?”

“Minty. We were stupid kids. Fooling ourselves. Neither of us can leave the suits. This is our lives. We’re killers, and we suck up the pain because we don’t have a fucking choice.”

“What if there was?” your eyes fully look up at him, and he gives you a soft smile. “We’re working on something.”

“Lloyd wouldn’t…”

“Lloyd isn’t part of it. Lloyd wants complete rule. But Jefferson, Andy, and…Ransom they’re all on board.”

“Ransom? A fucking Jack? You need a king,” you turn to leave laughing but he grabs tight to you.

“Do you trust me?” you shake your head no, and he pulls up your hand, running his finger over your ring when Medusa slithers over to him. “Do you trust her?”

“Usually.”

“You’re in bed with him. I can’t risk telling you. Just trust me. You know what your brother wants. He has fought for justice for you and every woman like you.”

His hand goes to cup your cheek, while Medusa slides up his body, settling around his neck, before she lays down. Those black eyes only on you. “What did they do to you? You used to have so much fight.”

Biting your lip you look up at him, and place your hand over his heart where his dual Diamond and Heart tattoo resides, “I lost my will to fight.”

“Snow, I never stopped loving you. I know you had to have been scared. Probably were pacing around that cabin. But I wanted to leave with you. I can’t now. My suit needs me. And I need a Queen. Don’t marry him. Please, don’t, I can’t…I can’t lose you again.”

You press your body up against his, and fully let your tears fall. So much had happened in less than twenty-four hours, and your mind is exhausted. “I love you, Minty. God do I love you. And I’m so scared.”

“I’m here now.”

“Curtis?” your red rimmed eyes look up at him as you search his face, “Help me remember what love was.”

“You don’t need that.”

“I do. I’ve needed it for years. I just want arms to hold me that love me. Please, just,” his hands remove Medusa off his shoulder before he picks you up, carrying you to the bed. Those pillowy soft lips that you were sure you’d never feel again kiss all over your exposed skin.

Bringing his knee in between your thighs, you spread legs wide, looking up at him, whispering another please. Grabbing the base of his cock, he runs it through your folds, before sliding it down to your hole.

Achingly slow, sinking in until, he bottoms out, balls deep, and you cry. “I missed you so much.”

“Shh, I know. Just let me take care of you,” his voice smooth and low when he pulls out, sliding back in even slower. Creating the most exhilarating snail speed. The two of you swallowing each other’s delicious sounds.

Remembering every inch of the other. He never stops, never changes his pace. And everything in that moment is about you and him. “I’m never leaving you again, Snow.”

“Curtis,” you squeak out, gripping his shoulders tighter. “Curtis…I…”

“I know, I feel you. Just let go. Let me take care of you,” he kisses up your saline tears as your walls clench down tight. His own body heats, up and he trembles when your velvety folds flutter around him. “I can’t…”

“Let go. Please, let go,” with his jaw going slack, your walls milk him dry, and his body weight falls on you. “Don’t leave me ever again.”

“I won’t. I love you Snowdrop.”

“I love you, Minty.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @missacidburn928 @sstan-hoe @whimsyplaty92 @connie326 @agirlneedsgoals @toozmanykids @thedarknessilove

#a losing hand #a losing hand au #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #steve kemp #curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x snowdrop #lloyd hansen smut #curtis everett smut

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lasnevadaslaborunion · 2 years

Note

In honor of Jack Manifold Lore, i still maintain he should've been part of Las Nevadas. I want to see him and Q bounce off of each other, and given literally everything about his character arc, themes, and personality, he would've been 100% receptive to the "join my country or else no one will ever give a shit about you" sales pitch. And then we could've got Syndicate!Niki vs LN!Jack, it would've been perfect!

YES. YOU UNDERSTAND ME. I was about to write a post about this exact subject!

These two have quite a lot in common. The heartbreak and resentment over being abandoned or forgotten, the need for revenge on the person they blame for their problems, the ineffectiveness of said revenge, the frustration over never being listened to, the introspection that gets so close to the point before souring again... I've joked before that if you gave the same basic character concept to Vince Gilligan and Dan Povenmire, you would get c!Quackity and c!Jack as a result. But their personalities and broader motives are distinct enough that they would blend well as a comedic pair of different shades of villainy. Dramatic little shits, they are <3

c!Quackity wouldn't have needed to do much to convince him to join. Like you say, c!Jack is a character who feels overlooked and resents never being taken seriously - demons that c!Q shares. I think he would be clever enough to see through overt attempts at manipulation, but assuming that c!Q approached him with an honest partnership, there's a good chance he would have accepted. Hell, they even had a business alliance while c!Jack was in charge of the Big Innit Hotel, so the connection is already there to build off of.

Speaking of the hotel, what kind of conflict would their respective bonds with c!Tommy cause? c!Quackity wants him close by and safe, and c!Jack wants him dead. (Well, not really... he wants to be noticed and cared for. But I digress.) So I'm picturing a goofy side plot where c!Quackity is trying to convince c!Tommy to join the country as well, only for c!Jack's various falling piano traps that just barely miss to interrupt their proceedings and drive the new recruit away ("Awful lot of safety violations, aren't there?"). That alone could have been an entire stream of shenanigans, and perhaps we could squeeze some c!Jack and c!Wilbur interactions out of it as well...?

And I love your idea about LN!Jack vs. Syndicate!Niki. Though I get why it happened meta-wise, it always felt a little strange to me that this anarchist organization investigated Snowchester, an isolated and unobtrusive commune, but left Las Nevadas, a growing and far more unethical presence, entirely alone. It would be amazing to see a plotline where c!Niki is sent to investigate this new country, only to find her old friend there and... thriving? Languishing? Just sort of chugging along at a boring day job? However well c!Jack is faring in an environment like Las Nevadas, they're bound to come into conflict. What do they each think of what the other has become? Does c!Niki wonder if c!Jack is really happy living in a gambling nation? Does c!Jack feel betrayed by c!Niki leaving him behind to join a society of anarchists? Maybe they try to revive their friendship. Maybe a clash between the factions separates them again, or maybe they believe they're just too different now, or maybe they make up and start meeting for cake and tea. Lots of potential.

#asks #dsmp #c!jack manifold #c!quackity #c!tommy #c!niki #analysis #what could have been...

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wunderlustwriter · 3 years

Text

another george weasley imagine pt 2

pt. 1

tw: mentions of violence (just draco being a bully) slight blood (nothing graphic)

when george leaves your table your friends both start staring and bombarding you with questions

“omg, are you doing it with a weasley??” “Nai! shut up? they could just be talking... but are you doing it with a weasley?!?” naiomi and selena ask

you laugh and tell them all about the project and hanging out for the past two days “okay but he is so into you. you should’ve seen the way he was looking at you when you were telling off malfoy” naiomi says “yeah, he was totally smitten, and you’ve only known eachother for a day or two? talk about pussy powers”

“yeah yeah whatever you say guys, it’s almost 8 so I’m going to go work on my project with my class mate and nothing more” you say, but as you walk away selena shouts out “YET!”

you keep laughing to yourself until you get to the end of the corridor and see three lone figures “shit” you mumble

you cross your fingers and hope that it’s not crabbe, goyle, and malfoy, but your dreams are soon shattered once you hear “Well well well, if it isn’t y/l/n.”

“that’s step mommy y/l/n to you. and what? was that verbal beating you just took too big of a slap to your pride you feel the need to approach me three to one for what’s going to inevitably end in some kind of brawl? because i’m so not looking forward to that.” you say through a yawn

they don’t say anything, just keep on approaching and reaching into their robes for their wands “shit”

you quickly pull out your wand and point it at malfoy “Solum Silere!” ((to always be silent)) he dodges it but the spell still lands on goyle

draco quickly points at you and shouts “everte statum” you move to the side dodging the brute of the spell but you still get knocked back a couple of yards and into the wall where you fall to your knees

you wait until you see crabbe about to say a spell before you mumble “protego” making the spell he tried to knock you out with reflect back upon him and he passes out.

“looks like your little henchmen didn’t last malfoy. you can either leave now with your buddies and we both agree to never speak of this again, or get ready to face me fair and square and get your ass kicked”

“oh you’d love a nice and easy fair match wouldn’t you? well too bad you’re about to get anything but!” draco shouts a spell to produce a large venomous snake but nothing happens because someone down the corridor shouts “Expelliarmus!” at the exact same time and draco’s wand is tossed to the side before the spell can complete.

“Oh you ass!” you say as you take a few steps towards him and lay a sharp hook directly onto his temple. “That’s for being an untrustworthy duel partner” you say before you give him a harsh kick in the balls. “And thats for ganging up on me with dumb and dumber over there.” you knock his wand at least 20 feet away from him as you lean over and say “It’d be better for your pride and your image if you told no one about this. Imagine how upset Daddy would be if he heard that you and your goons failed to take out a half blood even though you outnumber her three to one? That’d suck for you. And if you try to twist the story of what happened here in any way to get me or my friends in trouble then I am not afraid to make it seem like you and your idiots tried to do a whole lot worse to me. remember. you’re not the only one with influence.”

he slowly nods and by the time you’re done George has caught up to you “hey, y/n, are you okay?”

“yeah, i’ll survive. let’s go.”

“hold up, you’re bleeding” he says, tapping some blood off of your cheek with a napkin from his pocket “come with me” he takes your hand and leads you to the prefect bathroom near gryffindor tower

“i snagged the password sheet from oliver yesterday after a rough quidditch practice. don’t tell anyone”

“awe, i’m so proud, my little pickpocket in the making” you say laughing as you enter the room and look around

in the middle was a magnificent overflowing bath that never went cold and never emptied. there was four stalls with two sinks and grand mirrors on either side of the bath

george motions for you to come by the sinks so you sit up on the counter next to him “do you usually have to deal with those goons cornering you like that?” he says as he wets a napkin and rings it out

he’s gently patting your cheek as you wince slightly and speak “yes and no. we’ve always given eachother problems because i’m not afraid of the Malfoy Squad but they’ve never ganged up on me like that before”

“shit, i’m sorry, but it looks like you held your own pretty nicely, huh? how’s your knuckles?”

“oh, they’re fine, a little bruised, a little sore, but it’s fine. and thanks, the outcome might’ve been very different if it wasn’t for your perfect timing. i think draco was trying to launch a snake at me that bastard.”

“i barley did anything, but you on the other hand went into total badass mode. remind me to never get in a fight with you.” he laughs and holds the dry towel to your cheek

you chuckle along before you both make eye contact and just stare into each other’s eyes for who knows how long. he glances down at your lips and you do the same as the space between you seems to get shorter

swallowing you finally come to your senses and clear your throat “right, well we should probably get on that project tonight.” you both are finally out of your daze and start to make your way out.

“thanks again for helping me” you say, trying to break the tension

he nods “yeah, of course, don’t mention it, love.” a minute or two of comfortable silence passes before george speaks up again. “hey this might be weird but do u want to work in the gryffindor common room today? or just not work at all. that was one hell of a duel you just had.”

“hmmm... okay, compromise. we go to the common room, do an hour of work, then just chill?”

“sounds perfect” he says grinning as you come to the portrait of the fat lady.

by the time you enter the common room about an hour or so has passed since dinner and everyone is dispersed throughout the tower. but when you walk inside and the portrait door closes behind you everyone turns their attention onto you and your green scarves before they start clapping and hollering

you look at george like 👁👄👁 tf

“oh yeah, i definitely told everyone that would listen about what happened with malfoy at dinner. like i said, you’re a badass and a saint.”

you blush and nervously chuckle at that before he pushes you towards the couches closest to the main fireplace. people are patting your back as you walk and you can hear the girls (and some guys) cheering a little louder than the rest.

seems like Lucius Malfoy has officially obtained that status of DILF

“hey hermione” you say when everyone is done approaching you and sit on the couch across from her while george went off to go do something

“y/n? what’re you doing here? and what happened to your cheek?”

“oh, george and I have a project to work on but I had to duel malfoy and his imbeciles while they tried to corner me before hand .“

“You fought malfoy?!?!?” she all but screams for the half of the common room to hear, and they do.

“hell yeah she did” george says, coming up behind you with a bag of ice “here, use this for your knuckles”

you roll your eyes but smile and thank him anyways, putting the bag over your dominant hand as he hops over the couch and plops down next to you “she took ‘em out one by one, even when draco tried to sneak attack her and again when he tried to do the snake thing he did on harry last year. ended it with a nice hook and hard kick to the nads.” george winces at that last part

“okay it really wasn’t that big of a deal, and you’re the one who stopped draco from conjuring the snake. talk about perfect timing” you said while pulling out your books and notes for the project

“eh, that’s a minor detail love, either way it was bad ass.”

“yeah yeah yeah, well our ass is going to be beat if we don’t get this project done so focus for me.”

“okay okay, Sunshine. time to learn about thistle root”

the two of you keep working with your heads in books, talking to each other every few minutes about anything important you find, george taking notes for you bc, as per his orders, you can’t write until you’re done icing

hermione looks up from her homework every few minutes just to watch you guys and smile. she notices how he always stops what he’s doing to listen to you, and how you can’t help but smile at every joke he makes or every nose scrunch he does when his book gets too confusing. how he reaches over to grab you a blanket and throw it over you when you shiver slightly, and how you both have gotten so effortlessly close in the past three days.

she keeps smiling and silently excuses herself so you guys can have the room alone

when you’re done reading your section, you start looking around the warm room and taking everything in. out of the corner of your eye you see george watching you and smiling, causing a blush to rise in your cheeks. trying to play it off you say “wow i don’t know what i expected the gryffindor house to look like but this makes a lot of sense. it’s cozy and fiery, i don’t mind it.”

george slowly tears his eyes from you and looks around, nodding at what you say

“yup. the fire is always on, blankets are everywhere, there’s a mini kitchen that’s always stocked, and the house elves are always bringing different snacks for first years and night owls.”

“sounds nice, in the slytherin dungeon we have these water falls and an amazing view of the lake. but it’s always cold so there’s blankets literally everywhere, and we have a cozy fire surrounded by different chase lounges. plus there’s always someone playing the piano, whether it’s a student, elf, ghost, or the object itself.”

“wow. i always just assumed that the slytherins either had some dingey and moldy or pompous and stuffy hidden place in a far corner of the castle.”

“yeah, there’s more to us than meets the eye. but gryffindors and even ravenclaws are so quick to write us off as evil and brooding that no one notices. except for hufflepuffs, our two houses are always having parties or smoking sessions.”

“yeah, i guess you’re right and- wait did you just say smoking sessions” george says, turning to face you with a bewildered look on his face

“yes, gryffindors aren’t the only ones allowed to have fun you know.”

“wow... hey, i have a question, is snape a prick to you guys? or does he just reserve that for my house?”

“i mean he’s a douchebag, especially to first years, but as a general rule he’s more lenient on us. so that’s always a plus, but it balances out because nearly half of the teachers hate us and undermine our work in class”

the two of you just kept talking about your houses and classes and everything you’ve experienced at this school in the past 6 years and before you know it you’re waking up at 7 in the morning when fred and ginny are shaking the both of you awake for breakfast

taglist: @gaycatlord-stuff

a/n: y’all i still haven’t gotten to my dream part 😭😭 but please lmk if you think this is too cheesy or dramatic LMAO. if you’ve read this far i love you and yes i am hoping to make this a mini series but no i won’t be writing it like an actual novel. i find these bullet points motivate me to actually write more and better while it still gives you guys enough satisfaction (hopefully) and leave some room for imagination

pt. 3

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #hogwarts au #fred and goerge weasley #harry potter shifting #george wealsey x reader #weasley twins #hogwarts #george and fred weasley #hermione granger #george weasley smut #george fabian weasley #george weasley imagine #george x reader #george x ofc

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realcube · 4 years

Text

haikyuu!! boys when you come out to them as bisexual 🏳️‍🌈

characters: yamaguchi, tsukishima & kenma

part two!!

tw// fem!reader, fluff, coming out,

Tadashi Yamaguchi

ok so hot-take but i think yamaguchi is straight

(or maybe bi but with a heavy preference for females)

but rn he identifies as straight

but like..he’s so supportive of the lgbtq+ community

like tsukishima gives off ‘gay but homophobic’ energy

but yamaguchi has ‘straight but a strong ally’ energy

and this is hugely bc while tsukishima fell down the alt-right pipeline, yamaguchi was going through that ‘women 😍🤩💕’ phase which i think every WLW has went through at one point

like while tsukishima was watching ‘sjw get rekt compliation #125′ , yamaguchi was watching those heart-wrenching lgbtq+ short films on youtube

and on tiktok his fyp was probably originally cottagecore (bc it’s his ideal lifestyle ofc) and somehow he is now kinda on sapphic cottagecore tiktok

like not to fetishize them or anything, just bc he’s awed by how in love they are and that’s kinda what he wants for himself

(also he uses them as date inspo for you and him DFBZVAYUL)

anyway this was just my lengthened explanation as to why - unbeknownst to you or anyone - he was an ally to the lgbtq+ community (if not apart of it)

you didn’t really expect him to be disgusted or unsupportive of it tbh - i mean, it’s tadashi ffs! 💞 you know he’d never break up with you or judge you for something like that, but that didn’t stop you from being slightly nervous

but he was ten times more nervous when you texted him, asking for him to meet you by the local park’s fountain bc you had something important to tell him

mans thought you were dying ngl

he almost burst out crying on the walk to the park bc he imagined a whole scenario where he was sitting next to your fkn death-bed

but you seemed healthy enough so his next assumption was that you were going to break-up with him

so when he approached you by the water fountain and you noticed that his eyes were glossy and his hair was damp with sweat, you were quite worried for him now

‘tadashi! are you okay?! your eyes are all puffy and red! do you have hay fever?’

yamaguchi rapidly shook his head, hastily escorting you to a nearby park bench so you could sit down beside him, ‘it’s nothing; what is it that you want to tell me?’

‘oh’ you choked, quickly averting your gaze from his kind, damp eyes. ‘it’s- um, i don’t-’ you cut yourself off, mentally cursing at yourself as you had practised what you were going to say to him hundreds of times before he arrived yet you still couldn’t stammer it out

yamaguchi was hanging on each word you uttered, but once he noticed that you were struggling, he placed his hands upon yours and shot you a reassuring smile

you let out a sigh in hopes to relieve your nerves while rehearsing what you were gonna say one more time in your head before blurting it out,

‘babe, erm, i’ve been questioning for a while and i’ve concluded that i’m bi - as in bisexual; and i just thought i’d tell you bec--’

you genuinely thought that you might have to explain to yamaguchi what bisexual means so IMAGINE your surprise when he simply replies, ‘you’re bisexual? is that all you wanted to tell me?’ and once you hum in agreement, he lets out a heave of euphoric relief

‘(y/n), please don’t make fun of me but on the way here, i was almost gonna cry because i thought you were going to tell me something horrible.’ he clutched his chest, breathing heavily - usually he’d never admit to something like that but right now, he felt that it was appropriate

you snickered at his rather exaggerated actions, ‘awh, baby. i’m sorry.’ a pout formed on your lips as you soothingly rubbed his back.

yamaguchi rapidly shook his head before turning the tables and rubbing your back instead, ‘nonono, it’s fine! i’m fine!- and i’m glad you’re fine too.’ he stumbled, hastily placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear, ‘i’m so proud of you. congratulations!’

although you couldn’t see his face, you could tell from his light voice that he was beaming

after that, he buried his nose into the crook of you neck and snaked his arms around your waist to pull you into a hug, which you both stayed in for a good 5 minutes

Kei Tsukishima

let’s be honest, tsukki’s definitely part of the lgbtq+ community but in deep denial

like if you ask him, he’s not even questioning his gender or sexuality, he’s just ✨straight ✨

so when you just randomly joked one day ‘oi, four-eyes, turn this shit off. she’s too much for my lil’ bi heart to handle.’ while y’all were watching a movie and you instinctively made an off-hand comment about how gorgeous the female lead was

upon realising what you just said, you turned to him with the most awkward grin plastered on your face, ‘tsukki, i’m bisexual, by the way.’

‘no shit, sherlock.’ he hissed at your use of that little nickname

you turned your head to look at him as you blinked rapidly, finally mentally processing his response

while he did the exact same thing simultaneously, dramatically turning his head to meet your gaze before muttering, ‘was that you coming out?’

your eyes widened as you realised, then nodded slowly

tsukishima smirked, shifting his attention back onto the movie, ‘congrats.’ he spoke in a mellow voice, a slight sense of amiability laced into his tone

‘thanks-’

‘have you told your parents yet?’ he quirked a brow, his eyes remaining glued to the screen

you hesitated before shaking your head, ‘no.’

‘what about your friends?’

‘yeah, i came out to my friend group a few months ago - along with yamaguchi.’

tsukishima couldn’t help but frown at the fact you came out to yamaguchi before him but honestly, he couldn’t blame you - he was aware that his bitchy exterior probably discouraged you from telling him sooner, so he was just glad that you had the confidence to tell him eventually

‘so how long have you known that you’re, like, y’know, bi?’ he inquired further

‘a while.’ you hummed, biting your bottom lip, internally so relieved that he wasn’t being too awkward or weird about it

‘good for you.’ he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, not a hint of sarcasm or irony detected in his voice for a change, ‘oh, and good luck with coming out to your parents’

‘thank you.’ you murmur, happily shifting your attention back onto the movie

tsukishima honestly doesn’t mind/care tbh

like he’s supportive and will beat a bitch up if they don’t accept you - but in general, he thinks that it’s none of his business who you love

as long as it is him (ಥ _ ಥ)

Kenma Kuzome

ok so fun story

you were both chilling in his room on a saturday, he was playing on his nintendo switch as always and you were on your phone

you had been meaning to come out to him for a while now but every time you tried, it seemed as though something happened to prevent you from doing so

for example, you tried to come out to him while y’all were chilling at the park but then a bunch of geese started terrorizing y’all and it completely ruined the mood

so you thought that now you were in his room - where there was less of an abundance of geese - it’d be a better time than any to just lift the burden that had been weighing on your chest

you were as nervous as any one would be but you kept on trying to reassure yourself that kenma would be supportive

however, he had never discussed any lgbtq+ related issues with you so you had no idea where he stood with that sort of stuff but tbh, he doesn’t give off homophobic vibes

after a while of staring at the wall and working up the courage, you finally spoke up, ‘hey, kenma. i think i might be bi.’

you mentally cursed at yourself as you didn’t ‘think’ that you are bi but rather you knew that you are bi, yet you felt the need to add that filler just in case things went sour

he perked up upon hearing this and turned to look at you, a small smile gracing his lips, ‘okay, that’s cool. congratulations.’

you couldn’t help but beam back at him, ‘thanks, babe.’ you almost whispered, gladly going back to whatever you were doing on your phone

honestly, you were happy to leave the interaction at that - i mean, his brief and calm response was satisfying beyond expected, as it was probably the least awkward way that could’ve possibly gone down

however, what happened next filled you with endless amounts of euphoria

‘oh, and (y/n).’ kenma said to grab your attention, ‘i’m bisexual.’

you did a double-take

your instincts told you to throw yourself into his arms and rave on about how proud you are that he had the courage to come out but after a moment of reflection, you had a better idea

‘okay, that’s cool. congratulations.’

kenma automatically pouted at how you used his own words against him when he was clearly expecting a hug, ‘(y/n)..’ he whined lowly, shifting his gaze back onto his game

but you were weak so ofc you pulled him into a hug as you both muttered sweet, reassuring things into each other’s ears

‘i love you so much, (y/n) no matter what.’

‘i know.’ you snickered.

‘bitch-’

‘i love you too. and i’m so proud of you for coming out - you’re so brave.’

‘aw, thanks. so are you, babe.’

‘i know’

kenma playfully nibbled at your neck for being such a clown during a sentimental moment

but anyway, you helped kenma come out so- yeah :))

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kimnjss · 4 years

Text

looks different | myg

⤑ series: be my baby

⤑ pairing: rapper!yoongi x mom!reader

⤑ genre: angst, not even kidding...

⤑ rating: PG13.

⤑ word count: 4.2K

⤑ warnings: there aren’t any. except a very sad min yoongi :( yeah, if you got tissues - bring ‘em.

⤑ A/N: okay so first of all?? guys!! thank you sooo much, for the quick support i’ve been getting for this fic! i mean we’re only five chapters in nd ., ugh!! just thank you sooo much i love you guyss!! also~ don’t get mad at yoongi, he’s just out here trying his best :(

APRIL 13TH, 2020 | 15:31

It's automatic the way his heart stutters at the sight of you walking through the glass doors of the studio lobby. Every last moment he's rushed down to this very lobby to wait for you, the biggest of smiles taking over his features when you'd finally arrive. More often than not with something healthy for him to eat, paired with the nagging of how he should stop ordering out even if he was working late.

His heart would stutter than too.

Different this time, though. Feeling more relieved than anything. There's no telling the dark places his mind has gone in the years that you've been gone – wondering what could've happened to you. And now you're here – safe. Yoongi loved you, of course, he'd feel relieved knowing that you were fine.

Fine, but different. He can't help but notice all the things about you that just... looks different. Your hair, the long dark waves that he loved to bury his hands in now cut short falling just below your chin. Made you look much older than your new twenty-four. Birthday had just passed, he remembered.

Your hips much, much wider. He can't help but pick up on that huge detail as they sway with each step you take closer to him. Very slow steps, for the record. Nervous steps. The same way you'd approach him if you were wielding bad news. That didn't change. Neither did the tentative way you nibbled at your lower lip, fingers pushing your hair behind your ear as you locked eyes with him.

The nerve to smile. Actually push the corners of your lips up and smile at him, but he's reacting the way he always has. Mouth dropping in slight awe because you were so pretty when you smiled. Even if it was riddled with anxiety.

Yoongi stands just as you're stopping in front of him, eyes traveling over his frame in wonder. He had changed in the past three years too. The hair that he kept bleached now it's natural dark color, his once lanky skinny frame holding more muscle. He's been eating well lately and you can tell in the fullness of his face.

Never the type of guy to wear his wealth, but you can't help but notice the diamond-studded single chain that hangs from his neck. A dazzling 'A' pendant hanging from it. Just a plain black tee and sweats, probably spent the day mixing and didn't bother to change from his night clothes.

That was so like him. And you had no idea how much you missed him until now. Seeing him, so close that you could reach out and touch him. But you don't, given the circumstance. No matter how much you want to – it'd be inappropriate. Could basically feel how angry he was, keeping your distance was best.

Realizing, the two of you had been standing there for quite some time – speaking no words, you decide to be the one to break the ice. It was your fault you were even in this situation, to begin with, right?

“Yoongi-,” You start, ready to explain yourself. Right then and there, lay it out flat for him. Everything. Why you left. The baby. What has happened in the past three years. But you're not given the chance.

His dark eyes widen at the sound of your voice as if he hadn't expected to actually hear you speak, as if you weren't real. And he's reacting all at once, arms reaching out to circle around your waist and pulling you into his chest. The force of his pull surprises you, but not enough to keep you from closing him in.

He smells the same. Has definitely swapped his cologne in the time passed, but that doesn't change a thing. He still smells like him. And you missed him. The sob that breaks through his chest, vibrates your body. With his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, arms clutching you close to his chest – he cries.

Not able to properly handle the emotions overwhelming his body, so he can't do anything but cry. Happy tears that you're safe, that none of the terrible things he thought had happened. Sad tears that you felt the need to leave him without a trace, leaving him to wonder what he could've done to make you feel so alone. Angry tears for all the shit you put him through by leaving, because he hadn't done anything wrong – it took him a while to realize that one.

All of those tears soaked the collar of your shirt, shaking his back. Fists clenching the fabric of his shirt, you forced yourself to keep your composure. To not break down the way you wanted because right now he needed you to be strong for him. You had no right to cry when this was your fault.

“I'm so sorry,” The words come out hushed at first before you're repeating louder. And then again. Until they're falling from your lips over and over again, you're worried they might lose their meaning.

But you don't stop, because ever since you made the decision to leave him – apologizing was the only thing you wanted to do. Woke up every morning with a new way to tell him, to express to him, how sorry you were. How shitty you felt by doing this to him. And now that you had the chance, all your practice speeches were gone out the window.

All you could muster was a simple 'I'm sorry' and hope that it held as much weight as it did in your heart.

The two of you stay standing there for moments to pass, your hand soothingly rubbing his back as he let out the frustrations he had been feeling for the past years onto your shoulder.

He's pulling back only after he's calmed down, eyes glossed and cheeks flushed as he searches your features. A soft, cool hand finding the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “Are you sure you're okay?” The slight crack in his voice from his crying nearly shatters your heart.

“I'm okay. I'm so sorry, Yoongi...” Again, you try to find the words, but you're at a loss. Don't know what to say, no matter how many times you’ve imagined this exact moment. Where do you start? How do you get him to see that this, him like this, was not what you wanted when you left?

“I can't believe it's really you.” Both hands sliding down the sides of your arms until he's able to reach for your hands, loosely holding them in his as he has done a thousand times before. “We have a son?”

The words that leave his lips are hushed as if he's afraid to say them out loud. Afraid to let you hear him. But you do. Loud and clear. And your eyes are widening at his words. He knew? How could he...

“Your Instagram. The pictures, that little boy. He's my son?” His ability to read your mind hasn't faltered. You can see the sadness in his eyes, clearly. And you know exactly why it's there and it's your fault. All because you were too much of a coward.

The weight starts in your chest, quickly rushing up your throat until a sob is breaking through. Eyes watering as fresh tears slide down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, Yoongi. I-I should've... I didn't think-” You try to speak through your cries, but he stops your struggle; reaching to pull you into his chest again.

Gentle fingers stroke the back of your head, twisting in your short strands of hair. “Shh, it's okay. Relax, it's alright.” Except it wasn't. He knew that and you did too. Because of your stupidity, he lost the first three years of his son's life, time that he would never get back and it was all your fault.

He should be angry at you. Screaming at you. Cursing you ten times over. Not holding you and stroking your hair and telling you that it'll be okay. This was wrong. You didn't deserve his kindness, you didn't deserve him.

Lifting your hands to find his chest, you're gently pushing yourself back to create some distance between the two of you. “I'm sorry, Yoongi. I should've trusted you.” No idea that your trust in him and wavered, but Yoongi doesn't dwell on the small detail. He had a son now. He was a father. There were bigger things to focus on.

“Hey, listen. Whatever happened, happened. We can't change it, alright? Why don't we go somewhere? Get something to eat so we can talk properly?” You're nodding at the request despite the fact that you're not all that hungry. Can't eat with the guilt filling your stomach.

Yet, the last thing you want to do is stay in this studio. Haunted by the memories that the two of you made in this very lobby, every square inch of this place was covered with the two of you – and you ruined that.

Never realized how shitty being back here would make you feel and now you needed to get out.

An easy smile is spreading across his face at your agreement, a gentle hand rubbing at your shoulder. “Why don't you go wait outside? I'll call my driver.” You don't even bother to mull over the fact that he has his own driver now. One of the perks that came with his new lifestyle, you assume.

With another small nod, you're turning to exit the building to wait for him. Mind racing with how you'd be able to tell him about this without ruining everything he has now. He's accomplished so much and here you come ready to ruin everything.

Again.

Two large men lead you into a restaurant a bit too fancy for a late lunch that neither of you is in the mood for. Ushering you to a table hidden in the back corner before stealing seats a few feet away. Yoongi orders food for the both of you when the waitress is coming with waters.

“Water? Think we might need something a little stronger for the conversation we're about to have.” Trying to lighten the mood, but the stone-cold expression on his face as the nervous laugh dying on your lips.

Lips pulled into a tight line, you watch as he reaches for the wrapped straw at the side of the table. He takes his time with peeling the paper from it before crumpling it between his fingers, dipping the straw into the iced drink with the other hand.

“I don't drink anymore.”

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise at his quiet admission. You had always known Yoongi to be a man that valued a good glass of whiskey. Liked to have a few sips while he worked, always brought his own bottle to parties claiming 'you young-ins don't know how to drink'.

He always knew his limit, a couple of glasses here and there but he'd never push it where it became an awful habit. Made sure of it. But the sound of his voice when telling you he quit? Told you that he might've slipped in that department. And you can't help but wonder if that was your fault too.

“Tell me about my kid. What's he like?” Clearing his throat, his back straightens slightly – in an attempt to change the subject. Put a halt to all the questions he knows are bouncing around in that head of yours.

And you know him well enough to know when he doesn't want to be pushed. So you allow the shift, unwrapping your straw and dropping it into the glass.

“He's like most three-year-olds, you know? I named him Hyunki.” Another thing that you had wanted to tell him since you left.

It had only been a few months into your relationship when Yoongi told you. The largest of smiles on his face as he went through the list he kept locked away in his head, gauging your expressions as he listed each off. As if he was checking to see if you liked any of them.

SEPTEMBER 18TH, 2015 | 21:42

“You're telling me you've never given it any thought?” The surprise is clear in your boyfriend's voice as he cranes his neck to get a better look at you. Arms wrapped securely around your waist, holding you to his chest.

The movie that he had picked out has faded to background noise since he started this random conversation. If you had been paying attention to the screen rather than noting every cute thing he did, you'd know that his words weren’t as random as you thought. That they were related to the passing scene.

It was so hard to concentrate around him, you were discovering. Could never focus too long on the things that didn't involve him when he was near you. Always found yourself lost in those pretty dark eyes or mesmerized by that gummy smile of his.

How were you supposed to focus on the plot of a movie when the world's most attractive man was behind you? Holding you to him and chuckling so close to your ear it was like surround sound made just for you. You didn't even remember the name of the damn film.

“I can honestly say I don't have the identity of my future children chosen.” You speak through a laugh as he’s rolling his eyes, hands falling low on your waist until he's able to grasp your hips.

Easily, he's lifting your body from between his legs, turning you to straddle his lap. The movie has been forgotten in his mind too. Your hands find the sides of his neck, tips of your fingers tickling his blond hair. “That's not what I mean, you can't pick who your kids are gonna be.” He speaks in a matter-of-fact tone that has a smile tugging on your lips.

Soft hands find the backs of your thighs, holding your body to his. Yoongi tilts his head back just slightly so he can get a better view of your face. Searching your features carefully before he says what he's thinking.

Can basically see the wheels turning in his head as his nibbles on his lower lip, deep in thought while he watching you. And you watch him right back, lips pursed in an attempt to mask the smile threatening to take over your features. You had always loved the way he looked at you.

“What do you think of Hyunki, then?” Different from all the outrageous names he had listed before. Hyunki. You could definitely see yourself raising a little boy with his face and that name. But it's too early to say it, relationship still too new no matter how you felt. You didn't want to scare him away.

“Hyunki's nice.”

One of the hands he had rested on your back of your leg is shifting, moving forward so he can reach your stomach. Through the fabric of your t-shirt, he traces random patterns – eyes focused on the movement of his fingers.

“My first son. I want to call him Hyunki.” Eyes slowly traveling up the length of your body until he's pinning you with such an intense stare it has a gasp falling from your lips. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, hopeful.

“Okay. I like Hyunki.” Yoongi's smile grows on his face, head tilting up to capture your lips with his. His grip tightening around your thigh to pull your body further onto his. Large hand flattening on the small of your back, guiding you until you were lying underneath him.

That was the first night you slept together.

APRIL 13TH, 2020 | 15:58

Warmth spread through his limbs with the knowledge that you had remembered your conversation all those years ago. Not only remembered it but honored him by using the name he had wanted. Just knowing that was enough to take a bit of the sting of leaving him away. Just a bit.

“So? What does he do? What does he like?” Had expected him to have more questions about you leaving, but it seemed his interest was elsewhere. And the least you could do was tell him whatever he wanted to know.

He was in charge here.

“He doesn't do much, you know?” A soft laugh falls from your lips, hand reaching up to push the hair from your face. “He's been really interested in sports lately. Plays soft basketball with Taehyung sometimes and-”

“Taehyung?” Yoongi's brow lifts at the mention of the unfamiliar name. Head tilting to the side slightly. “Who's Taehyung? One of his friends?”

“Kookie's boyfriend. He hasn't started preschool yet, so he doesn't really have any friends.” The waitress is heading toward the table, food in hand as two other women follow her.

Yoongi considers your words as the food is set down in front of you. Willing himself to keep calm as he takes in all the information that you're giving him. All of the things he missed. The fact that he has to ask questions about his own son, things that he should already know.

But he doesn't go off the way that he wants to, doesn't chastise you and place the blame exactly where it belongs. Instead, he's blowing a thick breath through his lips – leaning back against the cushion chairs.

“You moved to Busan, then?” From your countless stories about your best friend from Busan, he remembered enough to know that the 'Kookie' you were talking about was that same friend. So, the nod of your head is expected.

You watch as he blinks slowly, hand reaching for the clean utensils on the table. He clears his throat slightly, head tilting to the side in the way it does when he's thinking things over. Distracting himself by filling his personal plate with the various foods spread out in front of you two.

Silently, he gestures for you to eat and despite your hesitance, you move to fill your plate as well. Nervous. Pondering on whether or not you should just blurt it out. Ignore how he obviously doesn't want to know the ins and outs of your disappearance, if he did then he would be hitting you with questions, right?

Wished you were able to read him. Know what he was thinking right now. It had been something that you could do easily, simple gestures and facial expressions giving way to exactly what was going on in the head of his. However, it seemed that through time you've lost that ability.

“If he's three... shouldn't he be in preschool by now?” Yoongi's asking casually, shoveling a spoonful of food into his mouth as he watches you. How could he eat? Why wasn't he yelling at you? Pissed out of his mind. He's being so cool and it was throwing you.

You begin to eat after the expectant stare he gives you. Taking small bites, sitting on pins and needles in front of him. “Tae stays at home with him, but we were planning to enroll him once he's settled here a bit.”

There it was again, that 'we'. The 'we' that didn't include him in decisions that he should very well be included in. Only in this case, you weren't referring to the 'we' who decided on your disappearance, just the 'we' that have been helping you raise the son he had no idea about.

Yoongi can't help but feel bitter at the small fact. But he wills himself to bury it. Can't argue with you. Not when there's now so much at stake. When you have a kid that he doesn't even know, a kid that he wants to know. Needs to.

You held all the cards and without the knowledge of why you left in the first place, he had no idea what might set you off to where you were packing up and leaving again. That was the last thing he wanted, then and now.

He had to play his cards right.

Casual conversation remains steady between the two of you as you're finishing your meal. Filling Yoongi in on all the things he's missed in the past three years has your heart growing heavy. He's missed so much and it was because of you. Because you couldn't stand your ground and be with him.

He'd only ask you for one thing. Expected just one thing from you. And you couldn't even handle that.

“Does he know about me?” The words are coming out hushed after a stretch of silence. You had just finished sharing with Yoongi the slight obsession Hyunki has with Lego sets. How he could spend hours at his play table, building. He smiled real big at that, but from the slow way it vanished you could tell something was weighing on his mind. And this was it.

It pains you to shake your head. Hurts even worse when you see the sadness that flashes through his eyes. “Why not?” He's almost afraid of the answer, but can't keep himself from asking.

“It's always been us, you know. Me, him, Tae and Kookie. And he likes having them around. I didn't want him to feel like he was missing out on something.” So young that he hadn't started asking questions yet. Wondering why kids around him had two parents instead of one plus two respective uncles.

You thought you had been making the right decision, but as this week was set out to prove – you had no idea what the right decision was. And judging from the look on Yoongi's face, you were more than positive that you had made the wrong decision by keeping the fact that Hyunki had a father secret.

“So who does he think is his dad?” He's doing the thing where he's trying to keep himself from losing it. That hasn't changed.

The slight twitch of his brow, the flare of his nostrils as he took deep calming breaths. Desperately trying to keep his composure and not freak out on you the way he wanted to, you wished he just let go and give you what you knew you deserved.

“No one,” You're rushing out, hoping it could do something to relax him. “I don't even think he knows what that means.” Flinching at your own words, you force a breath from your lips. You try to change course. “I honestly thought it would be better for him this way.”

Hesitantly, you reach for his hand that had balled into a fist on the table. Soothing fingers running over his knuckles. “You can tell him if you want. Do you want to meet him?”

“Obviously, I'd like to meet my son. He's my son.” There's harshness in his tone that he doesn't bother to mask. That you don't miss as he's pulling his hand from your grasp, going back to the meal in front of him.

Lunch ends in silence. Yoongi quietly pays the bill, mumbles a goodbye to you as he puts you in a cab. Doesn't even bother to look back as he turns with his bodyguards to walk toward the car that had brought you here.

Yoongi is slouching in the back seat of his car, arms crossed over his knees and face pressed against his sleeve. Of all the scenarios he's imagined with seeing you again, he never thought it'd be like this. Had been so sure it would be clear where he'd stand with you if you were to ever appear in his life again.

But, it wasn't that simple. Because nothing in his life was ever that simple. Of course, he still loved you – an annoying fact that was hard to ignore. Yet, he'd be able to do it, would be able to move on despite his heart being filled with you, if it wasn't for the fact that you had a kid together now.

A human binding the two of you, of which he hadn't even met. And he wanted to. Wanted nothing more than to be apart of that kid's life, but that meant being apart of your life too. He had been too afraid to get the answer's from you today, not wanting his deepest worry to become true within your words.

Not knowing was better than knowing in his mind. Whatever it was, why you left him – took your unborn child and bolted, he didn't want to know. Afraid that it would be something so horrible that it'd crumble his already cracked heart.

“Everything alright back there, Mister Agust?” His driver speaks noticing the shake of Yoongi's back that accompanies the fresh tears that roll down his cheeks. Face hidden, he takes a moment to compose himself before lifting his head.

The back of his hand wiping at his damp eyes before he's pushing his hair back on his forehead. Eyes shifting to look out the window as he nods his head. A heavy sigh falls from his lips, dark sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose to cover his reddening eyes.

Tires skid to a complete stop in front of the building and Yoongi is stepping out of the car, hands shoved in his pockets as he takes slow steps to the front doors of the studio.

Words leave his lips as a hushed plea, a delayed answer to the question he had been asked in the car. What he had been thinking since he first scrolled through your pictures, seeing the life you had created without him.

“I just want to see my kid.”

— when the love of his life suddenly vanishes, he drives himself mad looking for her. seemingly erased from the world, he’s forced to pick up the pieces of his life and move on… fast forward three years and someone who looks a lot like the woman he lost is being spotted, holding a kid with an oddly familiar gummy smile…

⟲ masterlist ⟳

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

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dystopiandilfs · 3 years

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Rating/roasting DreamSMP members donations (and chat.) I recently have been lurking in chats I don't normally watch so I can rate chats and dono's so obviously I might have watched on a day where the dono's are super shit so sorry if that happened.

Punz's chat is the best by far mainly because they know how to use bttv and will roast mobile users. It's a very chill and fun vibe. His dono's tend to be normal, they'll inform him of things at the start of stream and remind him to blink and drink water. If someone in Sapnap is in call he might get a few weirdos but they get bullied by his chat so it's fine. His tts is either off or super quiet which is great, we love a mute tts. 10/10

Dream my "streamer" his chat is awful as it's always a mix of 💙💚, "chat stop" and then antis thinking their hot shit by spamming "cheater" and "hacks" but his mods are trying their best and I appreciate it. Dream's chat is bad but it's definitely not the worst. He tends to have donations off because he wants to read them all and took the better approach of just not allowing them. His chat during MCC tends to be full of support so I sometimes have it open then. Dream's chat is 4/10 his dono's are a 10/10 when off and a 6/10 when on. His mods are a 10/10.

George. I hate his chat. I hate his donations. I hate how he tries to read them all out like either do it at the end of stream or only do ones you see at that moment. I lose a bit of sanity everytime I see a donation that contains either "Happy Birthday to" "can you say hi to" "you missed my last donation" -10/100. Love George. Hate his chat.

Sapnap's is slightly better than George's especially Sapnap's alt. For some reason everyone in his donations just so happens to be called Clay. Weird coincidence huh?! My only issue with Sapnap is that his mic is so quiet and his tts is so loud. I don't mind the text popping up on screen but when some obnoxious loud voice reads out "Hello my little Sappy Nappy it's my birthday and my mother just killed my cat anyways here's £25" Sapnap's been getting better at openly hating his chat which is a good thing, weed out the weak. 1/10

Philza's donations are constantly like 3 months behind which is mildly irritating. His donations tend to be decent until someone decides to trauma dump because then it turns into a competition of who's been abused more. That is not only a stupid "flex" but is also awkward for the streamer and their chat along with it potentially triggering traumatic events from people who are just trying to watch a guy play Minecraft. 6/10

Tubbo's donations are pretty much silent so I live in ignorant bliss of what they say. Like Sapnap his alt chat has a lot of bttv users which just automatically makes it better. I have seen a few gross ones that break Tubbo's boundaries like using his real name or sexualising him. I also see the ones where people are like "When's Tommy streaming?" Like go fuck yourself you little weirdo. 8.5/10

Captain Puffy's donations and chat are either super chill or incredibly chaotic. Her donations take advantage of being able to change names on donations which is always a fun time. Sometimes a bunch of "do this" "react to this" donations appear and they're annoying as hell but compared to other chats it's very chill. 8.5/10

Unpopular opinion but I hate Ranboo's donations. They're so boring and repetitive. Like okay you're part of the LGBTQ+ community cool, you don't have to tell everyone. It's like the people who constantly mention that they dye their hair. Like being LGBTQ+ isn't a personality trait but you've tried to make it one since it's the only thing that you mention. Spend money on buying art supplies to have a hobby or something. Don't make being part of the LGBTQ+ your only personality trait at least get a hobby you can talk about. They're sometimes funny but they get very repetitive and unfunny very fast, like someone sends a donation that Ranboo laughs at then it gets sent 39 more times. It was funny the first time but now you've killed it. However to give credit if someone doesn't get noticed they don't then send another donation with a "you missed my last dono" so a nice middle ground 5/10.

Quackity donations are very telling. You can tell who's an older viewer and who's newer based on what the donation says. His donations aren't super visible which is great and his tts is quiet which is a blessing so most weird ones won't get noticed. However I have this very suspicious feeling that a lot of the Spanish donations aren't by Spanish people based on the spelling and are very clearly part of the stereotyping and low-key high-key racist copypastas that his chat gets spammed with. Recently Quackity's chat has been incredibly racist whether they mean to be or people are just incredibly ignorant but it's not a good vibe. So his chat from a month ago is a 8/10 but recently it's a solid 5.5/10

Ponk's chat and donations are the best. You rarely get weirdos and the vibe is always chill. Also his donation sound is just better than everyone's so it automatically gains points for that. Eventhough he has tts on it's not obnoxious so 10/10

Hbomb's chat is chill however it's difficult for new viewers as there's a lot of inside mature jokes that might make younger viewers uncomfortable. His donations tend to be mostly okay however a few weird ones end up happening but they will be called out. I noticed that there's this group of people who on the exact same day almost every week come into his chat and ask shit like "Can you give me the DreamSMP IP" and "What time is Tommy streaming" which is just cringe but mods are good at deleting them same with people going into his chat to call him a cheater and pedo which is just fucking gross. But his normal chat is fine he just often gets some gross children trying to harass him or people who can't follow basic twitch etiquette so it's a solid 8/10

#dreamsmp #dreamwastaken #dream smp #mcyt #georgenotfound #sapnap #quackity #punz #tubbo #philza #drops by ponk #hbomb94

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choiwrites · 4 years

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kth | the day after valentine’s (m.)

Words: 4.5k Synopsis: Taehyung, your best friend, had asked you to come over to help him arrange his furniture after moving for the hundredth time. It’s the day after Valentine’s and all the getting laid stuff is over, right? Not for Taehyung. Also, who the hell buys condoms after Valentine’s day? Rating: 18+ Author’s Note: This is a messy drabble that I have no intention cleaning or editing. I wrote this at liek 2am so a lot of typo’s ahead y’all.

When you agreed to come over Taehyung's apartment, you thought he needed help with arranging the stuff that came from his moving van today. But no, your best friend's not the most truthful person you know.

He spreads across his dirty old couch, one he'd kept from his college dorm, wearing nothing but his basketball shorts that holds tight against his waist. Seven years since meeting him, he's done nothing to change his lifestyle. Every month, it's the same old scenario of him moving to another place after getting evicted for God knows how many times, and you watching him play a mobile game while you beg him to please start unpacking before a landlord sends him on his ass again.

"Let me finish this level, I'm so close." He looks for a second to study your reaction, annoyance painted clearly on your face.

You shrug, and your eyes dart over the cigarette pack that almost hides in one of his Goodwill boxes.

"I though you quit?"

Confused, Taehyung follows your eyes and he regrets in an instant bringing you here.

"I haven't had one in two months. I'm stressed lately."

Sighing, you try to understand. Taehyung's been on and off with cigars, he'd buy one in secret but sooner or later, you'd always find a lighter in his laundry when coming over. You advice him to keep his hand busy, and you'd even given him a bracelet that chimes. He removed it three months later and you never asked where he threw it away.

"Fuck," his finger swipes his screen as if he wanted to break it, "I almost got it!" he yelled.

He switches off his phone, now staring back at you. Your eyes fall, he's always intimidating. You couldn't blame him, you were always intimidated.

"What?" you croaked.

"What do you mean what? What's your plan?"

"My plan? Why do I have to make the plans?" Your fingers find the hem of your thin baby blue shirt.

"Because you're the smarter one. How do I arrange all my shit? You got any idea?"

"Taehyung, we've been doing this for ages. How come you still depend on me? There will come a day that I won't be here anymore and the only person you could depend on is yourself." Was it seeing the cigarettes that raised your voice, or remembering that he threw your handmade bracelet? You couldn't care less.

He was quiet. Then he opens his mouth, and he's quiet again.

"You sound like my mom," he says, meaning to tease you as if he hadn't used that for the hundredth time. "Was your date last night that bad? I told you you should come with Hoseok and I on Valentine's, we had an amazing night at Jungkook's crib."

There he goes again, ignorant of your troubles. Classic selfish Tae, the exact same one who stood you up on homecoming because he spent it having sex with Tilly Janes in his car. You're still upset about it, he didn't even think of going inside to give you at least a minute to dance with somebody on the dance floor.

"Mind telling me what happened? Did you get laid?"

"Do you ever think of maybe you shouldn't ask such inappropriate questions to someone?"

"Fine," almost tired in his tone.

And you spend a few more minutes in silence, guessing each other's thoughts with the way both your gaze lands on the floor. He clears his throat and forgets what he's about to say. You wish you didn't cancel your nail appointment today just to be with your best friend who still, in no surprise, doesn't have a single plan in his life.

Taehyung suggests he buys a stock from the grocery first, and when he says stock he means an awful lot of Oreo cookies and Lays. You agreed with him and he gets dressed, though the soles of your feet still hurt from walking in heels for three hours straight last night. If only you knew that Hyungwon would be bringing you to a walking spree, you wouldn't have worn a formal attire.

Taehyung spends his time choosing between peanut butter and double stuff. You tell him to pick the peanut butter one because you've never seen him finish the double stuff, he always throws the leftovers saying it was too sweet. He ignores your opinion and chooses the double stuff over the peanut butter.

He asks you again whether he should buy milk or pineapple juice instead, and you tell him to pick milk because whoever drinks pineapple is a monster. He nods in affirmation, commenting about how pineapple has a really weird aftertaste. And he brings the milk back to the shelf, putting the pineapple juice in the cart.

"You should dress like that." He points at a mannequin dressed in sportswear.

"You don't tell me what to wear, young man. I don't even jog."

"I'm just saying you'd look hotter." He scans you head to toe and your knees weaken a little.

He takes a route to the meat section, you already know why. He just wants to brag about being a vegan. Jungkook had convinced him last month to finally turn vegan, and he's been talking about it non-stop.

"I can't stand the smell of meat anymore, it's disgusting." He pinches his nose, wrinkles forming on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Vegan. We get it." You rolled your eyes.

"No, really. It's making me vomit," he says, nasally.

"Just make sure that once I cook chicken alfredo, your mouth wouldn't water."

Upon reaching the counter, Taehyung approaches the magazines and candy bars, leaving you in line.

What does he need this time?

And when you're up next in line, he comes back with a tight fist, hiding an item as he crosses his arms.

He thought he was sleek, but when he throws the condoms next to the Oreos, you couldn't help but laugh.

"You're buying condoms after Valentine's Day?" You throw your hand to your mouth, suppressing an uncontrollable laughter. "Did you run out last night or you're only getting laid today?" you added.

"Do you ever think of maybe you shouldn't ask such inappropriate questions to someone?"

You sighed. "But seriously, I know you wanna answer that question."

In the mood, you poke at his waist and he flinches like a worm. Taehyung was cocky, but he can be cute sometimes in ways he doesn't intend to.

"I ran out last night. Lucky you who don't need to buy another one since none of your dates ever pass your standards."

You couldn't point it out in what he said that made your heart throb, it felt a little offensive. Taehyung knows so much about you, it can get scary when he opens his mouth. What's he thinking right now? Cute little y/n, no one's ever good enough for her fragile heart. Cute little y/n, always finds a mistake in every part.

"That's not true, you know? I just don't settle that easily."

The corners of his lips lift, eyes rolling in disbelief. He was skinning you alive with that gaze, annoyed. He has a sarcastic smile sprawled all over his face, you just wanna punch it away.

On the way home, you thought about what he said for a second... For a while. You thought about it for a while. Was Taehyung right? Was his perception of you correct? Whatever it was, it did hurt. All you ever did for Taehyung was to be a good friend, and he gave nothing in return. You weren't expecting anything, but deep inside you knew Taehyung loves you just as much as you love him. But like every other person, insecurity gets in the way in relationships.

Maybe Taehyung doesn't even treat you as a friend.

No, you argued inside your head.

Sure, you've seen him in his most vulnerable moments. You've seen him break and you've seen him fall, you've seen him lose the inner parts of his soul. You've seen Taehyung happy, and you will always remember that specific laugh he lets out whenever he pretends something is funny. You know that he blinks when he curses because his body rejects it. He told you about his broken dream of becoming an astrologist, and you daydreamed together about the stars and the way they collide like magical dusts.

Maybe Taehyung doesn't know you like you know him.

Before the thought gets answered, Taehyung was already groaning as he puts the bags down to his counter. You had forgotten you arrived.

"We should start with your room. I'll place your clothes in your closet and you go arrange your miscellaneous."

He doesn't nod. Why won't he nod? God, please, Taehyung, just agree with me once.

He remains standing with both his hands on either sides of his waist and he does nothing else. Still standing feet away from you, just knitted brows and a stern expression that you couldn't read. What is it this time?

"How was it?" His arms cross on the buff his chest, waiting for a response as he tries to read your reaction the same way you're reading where he's coming from.

"How was what?"

"The sex, y/n. Was it so bad you're in a bad mood today?" A laugh pauses in his throat, replaced by a rise of the corner of his lips.

It was a tug, or maybe a push, in your stomach that made your minds do wonders of spins. Such an unpredictable person Taehyung is.

There was nothing to deliberate inside your mind, nothing happened last night. Hyungwon went home without a kiss on his lips, and you're limbs gave out due to the amount of walking.

"There's no sex. We didn't have sex."

"Let me guess, he insulted your outfit? If not, he probably split the check." His index finger extends, eyes wrinkling to get out any more ideas from his dirty little head.

"Can you just- Ugh! What's with you and your insults?"

"How was that an insult? I was guessing which of what he did didn't pass your golden standard."

"If I had a better standard, maybe you wouldn't be my friend." Ouch. It wasn't directed to you but sometimes you just want to dissolve after saying something.

"I'm your friend because you have a high standard." He wasn't offended, not a single bit from what you have said. Was Taehyung that oblivious of how miserable he is? "If we weren't friends, I'm pretty sure I could get inside your pants."

You hoped he regret what he said, just as much as you wanted to dissipate earlier.

"I'm sorry, Taehyung. But my 'golden standard' would never, and I can't stress this enough, let you get in my pants, in an alternate universe where we aren't friends."

"Lies. Lies. Lies. I could easily get you swooning for me in just a matter of seconds, y/n. Stop, and I can't stress this enough, lying."

"Sure, Taehyung. Whatever you want me to fucking say." You turned your back on him to get a grip of yourself. You grunt, you shudder, and you sighed.

Cocky. Bastard. You could join those words together and it would still perfectly describe Taehyung. Perhaps you have a list of two words that could go either independently or together they'd still describe Taehyung well.

Arrogant. Pervert. Overconfident. Asshole. Striking. Idiot. Son. Of. A. Bitch. I. Just. Want. To. Punch. Him.

He places a grip on your arm to spin you to him. "I want you to say it," with a guttural voice coming from the pits of somewhere within his diaphragm, it's crazy how smooth it escaped from his lips.

"Saywhat?" as opposed to yours that escaped with so much tremble and crisp, thinner than air.

"Consent," he began. "I'm pretty sure I can reach your standard."

It was probably a bad idea. And a bad idea is followed by a spontaneous drive to try it, that's how it's done in movies. You'd probably regret it, right? But you'd regret it more if you don't get a chance to prove Taehyung wrong.

Fine. He needs a wake up call. He needs to wake up from that delusion he'd built inside his towering cocky arrogant head, no pun intended, that he's not every girl's cup of tea.

"You know what? Sure. What do you want me to do? Ride you? Then give you a blowjob after not finding the clit-"

He pulls you, hand reaching your lower back to push his groin toward your front. You were far behind than he was, Taehyung was already hard and eager. His lips were hot, warm around the tip of your tongue that vividly tastes the mint and smoke he had had earlier this morning. It was evident in the sloppiness of his kiss, swiftness of his wandering hands, and blazing fire underneath the lust of his eyes, Taehyung isn't exactly as what you have thought him to be.

The men you've slept with before, they were a floating fish in the sea. But Taehyung brings you sea deep into the weakness of your knees, the floor may have shaken 'cause you find yourself falling on his body and he catches you just perfectly, bodies molding with each other on the floor. Taehyung grips your thigh, to the north his hand traveled, his thumb harshly caressing your slit.

The position made it hard for him to move, he was struggling to reach every part of your body as he would have wanted so he pushed your body, and you look him in the eyes with question, both hands resting on his chest as he continues to play with your clit. He earns a sly grunt from you and he'd do anything to hear it again.

Then he was standing, carrying your body to the nearest stool he could find, desperate and quick. With one sharp thrust to lock you in position, he inhales the moan that went from your lips to his throat. Then he stops. He stopped.

"Moaning already, are we?" He lifts his brow, a crease forming on his forehead.

"Can you just get to it?"

He laughs. "That's not exactly how I always do it. I like to take my time."

You punch his shoulder, a questioning look taking over his features. Embarrassment flows through you. "This was a mistake."

He kisses you again, eating whatever insult was about to come out of your mouth. He wants to whisper it, that thing he have always wanted to tell you, in between kisses. Because now that he's got you under his touch, his tongue is burning just to say it. To distract himself, he digs into your waist deeper, sinking those three little words under your skin hoping you'd realize it.

You pull away, pushing him away from you. "Something wrong?" His nails have left their mark before you could figure out.

"No, no. Nothing's wrong."

There is though. You're not a stranger to not know the look on Taehyung's face. You recognize this one, it happened before. The trembling lips and crimson cheeks. They bring you back the day after prom, the day after Tilly Janes took his innocence.

"What happened last night?" you asked him, arms crossed against your chest.

"I'm so sorry I didn't come-"

"You came Tae. You came hard, didn't you? I can't believe you convinced me to go to prom just so you can leave me in there alone."

"I didn't want to. Listen, okay, I realized something last night."

"I don't need your apology, Taehyung. I don't need it. Jimin took me home last night."

"What? Why?"

"Why? Because some asshole left me without a ride. That's why!"

"I was looking for you last-"

"Shut it. He asked me on a date. So thank God, I'm at least in a good mood today to not flame on you."

"He asked you on a date? Are you going?"

Trembling lips and crimson cheeks. He gulped so hard you heard it.

"I am. Hey, are you okay?"

"I just can't believe someone would even ask you out. I'll be going, forget I came."

It's the same face, the same gulp. You put your hand on his cheek, like what a mom would do to an injured child, and he holds it so you won't ever let go of his face.

"We can stop. I know. This was a bad idea. We shouldn't have done it."

He shakes his head, his other hand creeping behind you. He latches his lips onto yours again, pulling your shirt up to reveal your stomach. The kiss was different, a touch of hunger for affection. A slow open one, mostly the breaths clashing in a soft whisper.

"I want you, y/n. I want you," he whispered to your mouth. You push him to the couch, straddling him and he groans in satisfaction. He pulls you closer, enough for his chin to land on your chest and he looks up in pure admiration of you.

There was more behind the words he said, but with the heat pooling in between your thighs, you couldn't care less as of now. It's something you'll resolve after. He tucks a strand of your hair as he makes thrusts underneath you, the thick cotton of his sweats didn't do anything to conceal his cock aching for you.

You remove his shirt, not being able to take your eyes away from his body. Sweet and honey under your gaze, he tenses them and you couldn't help but laugh at this. Kissing every inch of his exposed skin, you kneel as your knees approach the floor, not breaking eye contact with Taehyung while untying his sweats. His hand fails to fall steady on your arm and his Adam's apple bob in anticipation.

There's warmth that spreads across your stomach, different from the one in between you thighs. It's like electricity that continuously ignites a fire inside you when you notice his excitement, eager to have your mouth around him. A sign of reciprocation that he wants this just as much as you do no matter how hard you try to deny it, a catching fire of the thought that maybe he looks at you the way you look at him throughout all these years. Even now that you're not looking in his eyes, the continuous ignition of sparks inside you still teases.

You reach for his length, softly wrapping it in your hand and his breath quickens along with your heartbeat. Studying every detail, even the cold tones of the veins that spreads like tree roots. In usual occasions, giving head never takes your time. You suck it and finish it, no more and no less, nothing special really. But it's Taehyung, and his difference from others makes you uncomfortable in a way it shouldn't be possible. Trying to forget these unnecessary emotions, your thumb circles the head of his cock and he couldn't help but make his lip bleed, the agony of it keeping him awake to not fall into your dreamy touch.

His shorts reaches the floor and you made it quick to to kiss the base of his glistening length. Your index finger making lines on his thigh while the other keeps his cock steady as your lips move upward. You've never imagined how he would taste, but you were always sure he tastes exactly like he tastes now. Bittersweet. He throbs at the heat of your breath, thighs almost jumping when your fingers find his balls. He emits a groan that strengthens the force you're putting in your thighs to keep your core intact.

Down you go, the head of his cock deepening in your throat just like his grunts, getting lower and lower until he thrusts upwards making you gag and he releases a high-pitched whimper of your name. Tears blur your vision and a moan sends minimal vibration to his cock.

"I don't think... y/n, fuck, I'm not gonna last long," he confessed, and you finally look up to see him without removing him from your mouth.

You tongue swirling still and he has gone rabid trying to control himself, clenching your hair as he lets himself go maniac against your throat. He stares at you with mad eyes, his mouth failing in keeping him quiet. Only his groans, his throat-fucking, and your whimpers that you can no longer suppress. You're a little scared maybe he'll get too confident and tease you on your gagging, calling himself so big he made you cry.

He pulls your hair and he tries to get a hold of himself, catching his breath to gain stability. Before you can wipe the corners of your lips, he was standing up and taking your shirt off. He frames his chin with his index finger and his thumb, making you grow conscious of your own body. He had no reason to be looking so long, he'd seen you in a two piece more than one occasion. And he's going behind you, putting a finger at the waist of your shorts, bringing it down slowly until it lands by itself. He wraps your hair in a pony as the other grips your ass, a throaty growl escaping from his body.

He rotates you to the other side, an empty blank wall where you can see the fool you made of yourself. The argument ends here. The argument has ended since he had kissed you like no one had kissed you. You shouldn't have underestimated Taehyung, because he's now biting your shoulder as he slowly descends you to the wall. He hums, this close he can hear the tiny whimpers you try to keep to yourself, your fragile voice that can break once you open your mouth to say something. He can hear them all and he's aware of the power he has over you.

A hand holds both of yours behind your back, and once he has successfully taken your white underwear off, he's positioning the fat head of his cock right in your entrance.

"Make it easier for the both of us and just say it, y/n," he commands, his breath echoing in your ear sending voltage in your spine. He bites your ear and he whispers again, "Baby, please."

"What?"

Taehyung laughs at your adorable cluelessness. He doesn't answer. The next thing you hear was the expansion of his breaths, getting heavier and heavier it's almost a hum as he slides himself inside you.

"Taehyung," you say in a falsetto, "god, Tae, fuck!"

"Hmm, fucking tight. You're so fucking tight, y/n. Your pussy's taking my cock so fucking well," his knees bend to enter you deeply, this sharp thrust hitting a spot in you you never knew you'd feel, "maybe now you'd let me fuck you often, huh? You're gonna take my cock anytime you want, I'll fuck your brains out, ruin you and your cunt."

You respond with a soft murmur of you're not entirely sure what, because Taehyung was already fucking your brains out and you had no other thoughts but the feeling of his cock that slips in out of you so easily. He'd hit that one spot and you're going to release yet another cry and he'd enjoy every note of it. You're a mess with strands of your hair sticking to your face as the sweat trickle down your temples.

"Tell me what you want, y/n. Want it fast, baby?" He speeds up his thrusts, your ah's getting louder as he almost sends you to your high. "Or you want to cherish every inch of my cock?" He slows down which brings you wailing, whimpering his name over and over until you're no longer sure if it's even coming out right. His free hand lands on your ass and you gasp as if inhaling after suffocation. "Answer me," he speeds up his pace again, "answer me, y/n."

But you couldn't, there's nothing in your body that you trust right now especially your voice. He growls, unsatisfied with your silence which leads him to pulling your hair and pushing your back to the wall. You're almost embarrassed to see his eyes once more in the state you're in, overpowered by the despair of wanting nothing but to have Taehyung take you to your climax. Your eyes are begging for him, hell there were tears coming from them as he enters you again.

He cries out, "I want to fuck you all day long, would you let me do that?" He continues to carry you upward the wall and your weight would go down whenever he pulls himself from you. You nod and as he sees this, his head moves back to watch your body crumble before him, giving him no more than satisfaction. "Look at you desperate for my cock, such a fucking whore for me, aren't ya?"

In every "hm" he makes, he enters you harder and rougher, makes you want to stay silent. You bite your lip, feeling yourself come to a close. Your thighs pulling together like magnets, wrapping his waist while it shakes and he doesn't take one second to land your body on the couch, watching your orgasm hit you with spasms traveling your whole body. Taehyung wraps his cock in his hand, moving toward your mouth as he jerks himself off to his own orgasm. You take the spurts of his fluid landing on your tongue, his waist twitching while he groans for each drop of cum.

He sighs, falling onto the couch where your legs are still apart. He smiles at your nakedness, not giving a second thought as his middle finger enters you once more. Your body sits straight, only to land on the sofa's arm. "You're so fucking pretty," he commented, his body hovering over yours again. He kisses you.

"I can't handle," you say before Taehyung cuts you off with another kiss, and another, and another, his finger in and out of you which as the minute grows only turns from pain into pleasure again.

"You're going to," he whispers and he kisses you again, until you're crying his name and he just studies the way you react to his slender finger. "So pretty, so, so," he curves his finger resulting to your second orgasm, "pretty." He makes sure you see his savoring your juices in his mouth, and once he was done lapping up his finger he puts them inside your lips, tasting nothing but his saliva.

"Do you get it now, y/n?" He unclasps your bra, and from then on he ignores your eyes. "This is why I run out of condoms."

#kim taehyung #kth #taehyung smut #taehyung imagine #taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts fic #drabble #bts x reader #taehyung fic

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thanksjro · 4 years

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More Than Meets the Eye #31 - Ammo and the Anti-Glowup

So, the Lost Light disappeared, stranding all the crew in space in their little escape pods. 200-some robots just lost their homes and worldly possessions. That’s absolutely horrible. What a devastating thing to happen.

Anyway, here’s Drift with a flashback sequence.

No hips, fingers all the exact same length, hockey pucks embedded in his forearms- Rojo, this is a crime you’ve committed. When will the long arm of the law stop your sinful, pancake-shaped hands?

About two years prior to current events, Drift, Riptide, and Pipes- yes, Pipes!- were wandering around trying to find a ship for the space yacht trip. The gang’s here to see who owns the big honkin’ ship outside. Problem is, Drift is unintentionally terrifying because he has a great deal of swords.

Now, you may say to yourself “isn’t it a bit odd that the species that has members who literally turn into guns would be nervous around a guy with swords?” This is a valid critique, until you remember that at least some of the folks who turn into guns were born that way, and Drift was very much NOT born bladed the fuck out. There’s an entire miniseries devoted to explaining this, it’s called Drift. The swords are a choice, one that he makes every day.

Drift is willing to pay an honestly absurd amount of money for the ship, if he can just find the dude with the paperwork- don’t ask where he got the money. Pipes isn’t being terribly helpful in finding them, so Riptide decides that now is the time to start practicing being proactive and pulls a Coyote Ugly.

No, no, he doesn’t.

He does climb up on a table and start yelling for the ship’s owners to reveal themselves, though. Which they do.

Now it’s time for the world-building portion of our comic issue. Let’s learn about chirolinguistics.

Drift, staying true to his Mary Sue nature, uses his near-perfect Hand skills to strike up a deal with the owners of the ship. This would be impressive, if it didn’t just look like the most convoluted hand-holding session in the friggin’ universe.

Still, Drift is rich enough to make Jeff Bezos weep with envy, so the arrangements are made and the lads go on their way, talking some mad shit about the original name of the ship as they do.

So it is revealed to us that the Lost Light is named after a festival for honoring the dead and disappeared, which makes the fact that Rewind and Chromedome were there all the more sad.

Back in the present, Megatron tells Riptide to shut up so they can figure out what the hell they’re going to do about this whole “our home and also ride has ceased to exist” situation. He’s putting an awful lot of distance between himself and the rest of the Autobots as he does it, something that isn’t lost on the more bitter people of the crowd.

But why were we even talking about the Lost Light in the first place? Not to reminisce, believe it or not. See, it’s time for Nautica to get a little panel time, and she’s going to use it to be a massive fucking nerd and explain how the quantum engines work. As she does, Ratchet notes that his hands feel funny. Must be the weight of his hand-stealing sins manifesting itself in his joints.

Nautica explains that the engines run off of improbability- it is highly unlikely, but not impossible, that the ship can reach light speed, and riding the fine line between what can happen and what can’t, results in the creation of power for the engines. If this sounds familiar, it’s because Brainstorm gave us a watered down version of this explanation back in issue #2. If it sounds familiar for a different reason, it’s because this is how the Heart of Gold runs in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Again, I’m not sure why it is that the British love this concept so much, but there you are.

Oh, it appears someone has a question. Let’s see what they want to know about, shall we?

…Rojo, what the fuck is this.

Our muppety friend here isn’t too keen on how much of a smarmy asshole Nightbeat is being right now, though I’d assume it actually has something to do with the fact that Nightbeat got smacked around with the pretty-boy stick while Getaway very much did not. While the two bicker- there’s a lot of bickering in Season Two- Nautica presents a theory on what happened to the ship; it went too far in the direction of “can’t” and made itself cease to be.

Megatron gives not a shit about quantum improbability, though. He only cares about how they’re going to get out of this mess. Which, y’know. Valid.

Blaster picks up a radio from Rodimus, who tells the gang that they’re to meet up on a nearby planet to regroup and figure out their next move. The call drops before he can get more than a couple Megatron-directed insults in, however. Megatron, in response, tries to be the bigger person, and almost immediately fails. We do get a headcount though, which is good, logistically speaking. This information is communicated to us by way of a splash page full of character head shots. We’ve got 20 ‘bots on board this ship.

Yep. 20. No more, no less.

As our friends approach the planet, we’re informed that it’s actually a Lectureworld- a planet devoted to the study of a single field. Except it’s actually a Smartplanet now, and it’s been privatized by the Galactic Council, so you’ve got to pay to go there. Cyclonus thinks that that’s bullshit, and I can’t help but agree. Crosscut tries to network with they guy about his play, probably because word got around that Cyclonus is rich as hell, when the lights cut out. When they come back on, Crosscut is nowhere to be found.

It’s time for a Whodunnit.

Tailgate immediately pegs Megatron as the culprit in this disappearance, and breaks out a gun over the matter. Megatron thinks that this is absolutely adorable, which only serves to further infuriate our marshmallow friend. I guess he’s still mad about the whole “I was a Decepticon for five minutes and got brainwashed over it” thing, and wants someone to pin the anger on who’s socially acceptable to hate.

Cyclonus and Ratchet both think that Tailgate’s not going about this the right way, but the guy is simply too het up to listen to them. Tailgate suggests that they lock Megatron in the engine room for the time being and-

OKAY WHO LET HIM HAVE THAT

Riptide breaks out his gun, and soon we’ve got a standoff going between the three of them. Cyclonus tries to deescalate, which makes Gears and Huffer break out their guns. Then Hound breaks out his gun, though he seems to be doing his own thing, by pointing it in Nautica’s direction.

Broski, I think that might be animal cruelty.

Megatron manages to shoot Ravage “unconscious” and catches him by the friggin’ throat, stating that he has zero idea how this guy got here. With the heat off the two of them for a moment, Megatron communicates to Ravage to play ‘possum for the time being. Ravage responds, and I wonder exactly how he’s doing that, considering I don’t think he has enough fingers to effectively utilize Hand as a language. Or fingers at all, really.

While this is going on, Cyclonus snatches the gun out of Tailgate’s hand, admonishing him for being reckless about picking his fights. Generally speaking, you don’t want to try to go toe-to-toe with a guy who’s responsible for the deaths of literal billions. Getaway swoops in to comfort Tailgate, calling him gutsy. I wonder if this will become a trend.

Swerve says a thing, as he is wont to do, and it’s made known that multiple folks have disappeared during this incredibly brief standoff.

Wow, Chromedome just fucked off, huh? He wasn’t even in that sequence, just left.

Everyone’s positively baffled by the current happenings. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to who’s being taken. I guess we’ve got a mystery on our hands.

And who better to solve a mystery than a detective?

Nightbeat wrangles all the leftover folks into a corner of the room, so they can figure out what the common denominator is with all the disappearees. He starts with the easy stuff.

And by “easy”, I mean the super-special racism Tyrest subscribed to.

If you’ve read Eugenesis, you know that Nightbeat was also part of the first wave of cold-constructed bodies there. However, the general populace wasn’t nearly as chill about it as they were in IDW. Also, Wheeljack was his dad. No word on if that particular tidbit made it into IDW lore.

It’s at this point that we learn about M.T.O.s- made to order soldiers. They were cold-constructed ‘bots created en masse during the war in order to keep up with the demands for troops. Pretty fucked up, if you think about it, being born to die like that.

Now where have we heard that name before…

Chromedome, can your love life not be part of the plot for five minutes, my guy?

Nautica makes the honestly horrific claim that a lot of folks owe their existence to Megatron being a warmongering fuck, and even Megatron himself seems rather uncomfortable with the idea. Some thoughts we keep to ourselves, Nautica, even if they might be technically true. And even if Ammo wants to tack on his two cents on the matter.

What did they DO to you, Ammo? You’re supposed to be hot! Where are my three-paragraphs of description as Hound stares slack jawed the entire time? I miss Polyhex Wars.

Anyway, it’s Megatron’s turn to get poked with the questioning stick, and he’s not having it. He claims that by revealing his mode of creation, he’s risking a repeat of Functionist ideology. This would be valid, if people weren’t literally disappearing without any sort of explanation as to why. As it is, he’s being a stubborn asshole, but I guess he didn’t get his reputation by being a decent person who knew when to back down, now did he?

It’s at this point that Ratchet remembers he knows all the info Nightbeat’s looking for, and the conversation on Megatron’s birth is shelved for another day. I’m sure it won’t be a major plot point later, not in the slightest.

As it turns out, Nightbeat’s theory doesn’t hold water, and folks are still popping out of existence. We get another splash page, this time with everyone’s mode of creation listed under their names, and we move on to other theories about what the fuck is going on. While Nightbeat has a minor crisis over what the answer could possibly be, the MTOs in the group reminisce on the Ten-Step Program, a series of tests they were put through to make sure they worked well enough to get handed a gun and shoved out the door. Riptide wasn’t a fan.

Riptide has more wood panelling than a 70’s-style ranch house, and I think that’s very brave of him.

It’s at this point that Ratchet remembers it’s been quite a bit since he last shat on religion, and takes the time to do so while informing the reader about Information Creep. This is a concept we’ve seen mentioned previously, during Chromedome’s runaround in Overlord’s brain, but it’s here where we get the juicy implications.

Because memories can become corrupted in the brain due to extreme age, what ought to be objective fact has to be reinterpreted due to missing pieces. This is why nobody knows what the Knights of Cybertron got up to, or if they’re even actually real at all.

The lights go out again, and when they cut back on, Cyclonus is missing, leaving only his sword behind. Tailgate is extremely distraught by this, but Nightbeat gives not a fuck about Tailgate’s impending breakdown. He only cares about the truth!

And then a giant eyeball shows up.

It’s Ultra Magnus, coming to us live from his shuttle, via holomatter avatar! He shrinks down to a far more reasonable size, in a panel reminiscent of the first time IDW readers saw Megatron.

Don’t get me wrong, this is a neat parallel, I’m just… not terribly sure why it’s happening. One could say it reflects a reversal in power dynamics, but that theory gets tossed out the window when you remember that this isn’t actually Verity. I suppose it’s just a cool little thing.

Because the comms aren’t working, Ultra Magnus has been forced to use this avatar to communicate with the folks in the Rod Pod. Megatron asks just what the hell is going on, but unfortunately Magnus isn’t sure either. Then his shuttle disappears, and it’s bye-bye grunge girl Magnus.

It’s at this point that Nightbeat decides it’s time to stop pussyfooting around and get serious. He tells Ratchet to throw HIPPA directly in the garbage and write down everything he knows about the Autobots who crewed the Lost Light. And he does mean everything, as we get the splash page again, this time with lots of neat info on our friends, including spark type.

Spark types will become plot-relevant in the storyline after this, but for now let’s focus on some weird gender essentialism that got slapped into the first print of this issue.

As we know very well by this point, Transformers as a franchise has a tumultuous relationship with the idea of women existing. You would think that the awkward introduction of other genders we got in “Dark Cybertron” would have been the end of things being weird in IDW. However, you would be wrong.

In an effort to explain why genders exist, Roberts had the idea to make it spark-based. Nautica, in the solo print of this issue, has an estriol-positive spark. Estriol is a type of estrogen, which is the hormone that develops and maintains feminine secondary sex characteristics, when present in certain levels, in conjunction with other hormones. Biology

This “spark = gender” idea is, generally speaking, not a great idea to be presenting us with, especially when the writer is a cishet male, because it implies biological essentialism- the idea that a personality trait/quality of a person is innate and predetermined by their biology, as opposed to social, cultural, or individual experiences. Because this story doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s irresponsible to reduce the experience of being a woman to a single, physical, unchangable asset, especially when all other assets of the same class have zero effect on one’s gender identity. You don’t exactly see many nonbinary robots running around, now do you? And there are definitely more than two spark types, despite the Transformers as a species being... very binary.

It also makes female Transformers into an “other”, which is a problem that has existed from the very start of the franchise, in some form or fashion, and really doesn’t need to be perpetrated anymore than it already is.

The estriol spark type was removed in the trade edition, and Roberts has expressed regrets over its inclusion, having realized that it was potentially offensive.

Getting back to the story, Swerve, Tailgate, and Ratchet have disappeared, though Ratchet seems to have left his hands behind. His stolen, Pharma-original hands.

That’s still fucked up to me. I don’t think it’ll ever not be fucked up.

Riptide reveals the reason that he wasn’t in Season One of MTMTE was because when he went back to grab a receipt for the ship two years prior, he’d discovered that the original owners were worshipers of Mortilus, Cybertronian god of death, and knew about the nasty little problem that was the sparkeater from the first storyline. When Riptide went to confront them about it, they beat him up so bad he was unconscious for two solid days.

Which is a long-ass time to be unconscious. That might have been a coma, Riptide. Jesus, I hope someone got him to a hospital after this beatdown happened, or at least scraped him off the floor.

With this last piece of the puzzle, we finally have the common denominator in this big ol’ mystery. Everyone who disappeared was on the Lost Light when it took off from Cybertron in issue #1, and everyone left behind- Skids, Getaway, Nightbeat, Nautica, Megatron, and Ravage- didn’t join until afterwords.

Of course, having the answer doesn’t do us much good when everyone is still missing, and Megatron seems to agree with me, because he’s about to throw hands, when Nautica lets them know that they’ve arrived at the rendezvous. Problem is, so has something else.

...

I’m sure it’s fiiiiiiiiiiiiine!

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #issue 31 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #incoming analysis #overthinking about robots #comic script writing

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miracle-sham · 3 years

Text

Yet So Poison Entwined We Fracture.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Saturday Challenge 1: Hurt No Comfort} |

| It all went wrong so quickly. Marinette thought she could trust Jason, that he'd never betray her. And Jason thought the same. But with a truth-serum turned poison seeping through their veins, neither had thought to look for the purple feathers. |

| Word Count: 1,706. |

———

| A/N: I'll try and keep this short and sweet but it's nice to dip back into writing for Maribat, I really missed it whilst I was gone. Also I've now got a author's channel in MGI where I sometimes put title sneak peaks, snippets, and random au ramblings, so y'know feel free to pop into the channel and have a gander if you'd fancy! And one last thing, keen eyes may have noticed I've added a Spotify Playlist Link, it contains all the songs I listened to when working on this oneshot, if you're curious! |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics or a specific Au, then feel free to send me a dm and or ask! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

Marinette staggers back, clutching at her bloodied side as the world spins for a moment and everything blurs. Breath catches in her throat as a sharp pang of betrayal pierces her heart, tears springing to the corners of her eyes unbidden. Whimpering, she barely manages to cry out, “J–Jason?”

Heartbreak coating his name like the truth serum-poison making its way through her system at this very moment.

She makes an awful choking noise and collapses to her knees, scrunching her face up and wheezing. Barely is she able to keep her eyes open, fixated on staring at someone she thought she could trust.

Smirking lazily, Jason saunters up to her, crouches and then grabs her face by the chin, forcing her to tilt her head up to continue staring at him in the eyes. “Aw, did you really fucking think I cared about you this entire time?”

Marinette swallows thickly—unable to conjure up a response to him. Black spots start to form in the corner of her vision like watching a spattering of embers burning away on a piece of paper.

He tilts his head to the side and snorts, “really? Nothing to say, no heartfelt "I trusted you!" or "you're lying!". Not even a "I know the real you is still in there?", how fucking pathetic.”

There's a small part of her brain that starts flashing red lights and wailing alarms—warning her that she's in danger, that she's hurt, that she's stopped breathing. She can't breathe, can't move, can't say anything or she'll spill all her remaining secrets.

Jason sighs and drops her chin. “And here I fucking thought your shitty-ass reaction to me betraying you would be more fun.”

Grimacing, she waits a heartbeat after he lets go before mustering all her strength to slam her skull into his—if I'm going down, you're coming with me for this, Marinette mentally vows.

There's a horrendous thwacking sound as the impact lands, and Marinette feels as though her brain has turned into a blender that just had its blades snap mid blend.

Jason, on the other hand, flings himself backwards and curses up a storm. He pulls out one of his guns and with dizzying vision, manages to shoot a bullet that just clips the uninjured side of her ribs. “That's what you fucking get for that you bitch!”

Marinette doubles over as the pain seems to ricochet through her; vision blacking out completely. She struggles for breath, her hearing cutting off not a second later. Objectively, she's aware she's not alone. But as her senses shut down one by one, leaving her helplessly trapped in her own mind, she can't help but wonder why her heart aches with loneliness. I'm sorry, she silently apologises to no one and everyone.

Distantly, she thinks she's swaying—or collapsing again maybe. But it's hard to tell, it's disorientating trying to focus on the world with dying senses.

Marinette is lost. Every little movement, every little thought—it's agony, a struggle to keep going, keep holding on. Once more, she silently pleas for forgiveness from the kwami.

She stops.

Stops breathing. Heart stops beating. Stops fighting. It all stops.

At least this way, she thinks to herself, I can't spill any secrets from the truth serum-poison if I carry them to the grave instead…

She sinks into the darkness, clinging to her final thought in numb relief as she does so. Everything fades away.

———

Jason groans as the knife Marinette is wielding digs deeper between his ribs.

She doesn't move back immediately, so he grits his teeth and roundhouse kicks at her—the heavy thump of collision makes his wound burn like acid has just been poured on it.

He's a few seconds too slow pulling his leg back, as Marinette slices the knife through his calf.

“Fuck!” He bites out, throwing himself further out of her range and breathing. “Marinette!”

With the gall to smile faux-innocently, she plays with the knife in her hand, slipping it between her fingers and swirling it about. “Yes, Jason?”

“The fuck are you doing!?” He growls, shifting his position when she doesn't move to apply pressure to the calf wound.

She shrugs, seemingly unbothered, “what? Did you really think this wouldn't happen one day? That I wouldn't get sick of you. Show you just how much you've hurt me the entire time we've known each other?”

Jason spits blood from his mouth at the warehouse floor in front of her. “I don't believe whatever shit you're being made to spew, but I sure as fucking hell know that you'd never do something as fucked up as this.”

“Oh, that's cute! You still believe in me. What's next, are you going to beg me to come to my senses? Are you going to cry my name and hope it changes my mind? Are you going to declare that the "real" me is still there inside and that you're going to save me?” Marinette giggles, high-pitched and yet hollow sounding.

Jason flinches at the sound, breathing stuttering as the poison from her knife starts to really seep in. Shit, he thinks to himself, truth serum-poison. If I'm not careful I'm gonna say shit that should stay secret.

A flash of silver catches the edge of his vision. And it's all the warning he gets. He immediately ducks and rolls, cursing under his breath as his wounds are aggravated. The air by his hair swooshes as the blade just narrowly misses.

Marinette giggles taper off into a hiss of fury. Her hair slips out of her pigtails from the constant movement, and multiple strands fall in front of her face. She huffs, ineffectively blowing them out of the way. “Did you really think I ever loved you?”

“Yes!” The words are choked out of his mouth before he can even think, the truth serum-poison kicking in hard and fast. Jason wheezes and the taste of iron lingers like malice in his throat. Fuck, he thinks desperately, I'm running out of time and Marinette isn't snapping out of whatever the fuck's been done to her.

He stumbles into another roll, as the blade comes swinging at him again. His vision blurts violently, and the next thing Jason knows—is that his view has suddenly tipped upside down and that there's a throbbing ache radiating from the back of his shoulders and head.

“Huh, you really do have a thick skull. Normally that'd be enough to knock anyone else out. Well, I guess I'll have to do this the old fashioned way.” Marinette rambles, pulling out a rag.

Jason grunts as he pushes himself only to be slammed back into the concrete warehouse floor, rag pressed firmly over his mouth and nose.

He thrashes and refuses to inhale. Marinette scowls and kicks him sharply into the ribs, causing him to gasp through gritted teeth. But it's enough to affect him.

His vision teeters then flickers to black, he can feel his movements slowing—becoming more and more sluggish until he's as still as he was in that fucking coffin he's had to crawl out of once before. At least, he barely manages to cling to the final thought, I can't spill any secrets if I carry them to the grave once more.

And then it all fades away.

———

Lila steeples her finger and smirks. She's sitting in her plain white office for the Agreste, three monitors set up before her on the desk. The middle screen shows her emails and a few tabs up on fashion for work-related reasons. The outer two screens, however, show the feed to two identical cells—two by four by five metres with cement floors and grey brick walls, no windows and a single plain black metal door. No furniture either, not even beds or toilets, just chains attached to the wall opposite the door. And in the chains is what has Lila so very happy indeed; Marinette and Jason, one in each cell and both stuck in the chains with no hope for escape.

A steady pool of blood has already formed beneath the both of them, thanks to the wonderful work of her Sentimonster duplicates of the two.

Lila can't help but monologue in her glee, “It's so excellently simple really. Even if one escapes, there's no way they'll help the other escape now. Now they've experienced the pain of betrayal and torture inflicted by the other!”

Footsteps approach the door to her office; all it takes is a quick click and click of the mouse and her two outer screen feeds flip to showing more work-related tabs and emails.

The door opens to reveal Adrien, slightly dishevelled—hair and shirt ruffled, eyes red with dark bags beneath them, and shiny tear streaks down his cheeks—he stands in the threshold, shaking. “Did you know?”

Lila smiles in fake confusion. “Know what?”

Adrien swallows, gaze flickering to her screens. “Marinette's dead. So is Jason.”

Lila tilts her head to the side to make it look as though she's thinking. “The Wayne boy that was close to her, right? Oh dear.”

His tired gaze turns back to Lila as he continues. “They think both of them were kidnapped and tortured separately. Police have found traces of an altered truth-serum among the bloodstains and…” He chokes for a second, grief plain as day across his face. “and they found pieces of fingers, ears, slices of skin, and all.”

“Oh, oh, that's horrible!” Lila gasps, covering her mouth with her hands to hide the victorious curl forming on her lips. “Have they found out who was cruel enough to do that to them yet?”

Adrien shakes his head silently.

“Hopefully, the culprit will be found soon. But if you need any support, I'll always be here for you, Adrien!” Lila gravely announces, bobbing her head slightly as she spoke.

He narrows his eyes at her, shakes his head, and then stalks away from her office.

She scowls as soon as his back turns and gets up to shut her door. “Well,” She says to herself as she flips back to the cell feed, “at least that means I'll have plenty of time to pull the secrets from you two without the police thinking to look for you alive.”

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| Also feel free to send me any asks or comments with any questions you have regarding this oneshot, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

#Maribat #DC x MLB #MLB x DC #Jasonette #Jasonette July #JasMari #MariJay #Marinette x Jason #Jason x Marinette #Jasonette July 2021 #Jasonette July Saturday Challenge #Jasonette July Hurt No Comfort #Yet So Poison Entwined We Fracture #YSPEWF #Sham's Posts #Sham's Writing #Sham's Fics

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imbellarosa · 4 years

Text

Let’s Talk Calm-ly about Two Loves

OR: When you’re a grown man who writes stories for a living, you definitely wrote your own weird bedtime story, too.

The TLDR here is that H has taken one specific listener around the globe, notably to Tokyo and Jamaica. He quotes an old Victorian Poet who was an awful human but who’s lasting legacy is the phrase “a love that dare not speak its name” which is - you guessed it - a reference to queer love. He also is super excited to spend what seems like the foreseeable future with this listener and has bought a little house with a garden of daisies with them and it’s very sweet and domestic. Anyways this is a wild time and it’s all under a cut because it’s...really a lot.

Anyways I think the people I owe thank yous this times around to are @queenlokibeth who had to listen to me scream about this for a while, Astrid, who screamed with me when this came out, and “M” who convinced me to finally get to work in this fandom. And, of course, all of the lovely people tagged below who’s work I used to build my argument.

1.) Who Wrote “Dream With Me”?

Well, not H, or so the story goes. Two other people (Steve Cleverly and Sanj Sen) did! I mean, right, okay, for a while I was like...that seems like an odd choice for a man who didn’t want to hand Two Ghosts over to his own band because it seemed too personal. He wrote on every song in both albums’ he’s released thus far, because he seems to be passionate about telling the stories he wants to tell (even if he won’t tell you explicitly what they’re about). But for a while, I was totally going with the flow there, and the rest of this analysis would still stand: the writer of this story definitely referenced a poem by Lord Alfred Douglas and Harry’s own songs.

However, I then read this fun quote from the Co-founder and CEO of Calm:

“Well,” he said, “The the Harry Styles one is interesting because that came purely from Harry Styles himself...we took the approach of creating a sort of musical epic poem – he doesn’t sing, it’s spoken with poetry, but there’s a sort of musical sound bed to it and it’s pulling on things and themes that Harry’s fans really adore about him and associate with him. So his story was driven really by him – we really created a concept around him.”

- Chris Advansun, July 7th, 2020 via @hlupdate

And I thought, hmmm. This does not sound like a project that he was not involved in creating. From this point on (July, 7th 2020), I began to think of it as a three way co-collaboration between him and the other two authors. But this confused me a bit, because there was largely a nonreaction from the fandom. I was waiting for an actual transcript, because I always fall asleep to these meditation stories, but it was being referenced to as some sort of Y/N fic, which was...honestly not what I expected, but also not implausible, thanks to the ~lovely~ image this man has had since the age of sixteen. But also, twitter seemed to be concerned by other things at the moment, and no one was analyzing the story. .

In fact, I messaged a friend the day that this story dropped, because it had been kind of a shit show day on Twitter. Rumors were sort of flying about everyone and everything: had Liam shaved his head? Was he engaged? Had he and Maya broken up? Were Zayn and Gigi engaged? Had they broken up? Did Niall have a girlfriend? (this one was true lol). Were Elounor engaged? Were they pregnant? Had they broken up??? My personal fav was the bald Liam rumor, which he promptly put to rest in LP Act 1 by...having a huge mane of hair.

So then I thought - huh. Why has today looked like this? I’m not saying that there aren’t days that twitter goes wild because of boredom, because there definitely is - the articles about secret meetings in Italy that are coming out this week (8/12/2020) are proof positive. So that definitely does happen, but it doesn’t usually happen on the days that there’s a lot of content. And maybe I’ve just been starved for content in this fandom, but I would consider a 40 minute video quite a bit of content.

Then the transcript dropped. I’m using two as references - this one on Wattpad and also @carl-and-pearl ‘s version here (thank you so much for the transcript!!). We’re going to get into a more detailed description of what’s going on in the story, but the first thing I recognized immediately is that it was first person POV. I knew that going in, based on the number of Y/N jokes going around on twitter. Then I read it aloud, and I realized that it read like a letter. Like an experience specific to the writer and the reader. And while that’s not super uncommon to write about an experience from the author’s POV - I listen to a podcast called Nothing Much Happens: bedtime stories for adults which has a similar concept - I thought it was odd that they were trying to include both the author and the listener. I completely understood why the y/n jokes were pertinent. But at the same time, it felt like something had snagged in my mind - like a particularly annoying splinter.

The conversations I was having around this story - completely based on the content, concept, and my own instinct - was that this story contained specific references to one person. I thought that it did read like a love letter, and that most identifying features would have been taken out, but the essence remained. Which, once I thought about it, was something that H excelled at doing. Think about Sunflower Vol 6 and Adore You and Canyon Moon and even Watermelon Sugar and Golden. Ask yourself, What do I know about the person they are about? They have skin that browns, they have a secret, they have mesmerizing eyes, they’re willing to dance in the kitchen with him (to dancehall), they have a belly, they’ve been through hard times, they’re witty, they have an accent, and they have lips. I know - super specific right?

So the splinter grew into a thorn - what was I missing? And then - when I was looking for something completely different - I stumbled upon this old interview Harry did with Zach Sang and the Gang Show back in 2017. For context, he was being asked about Sweet Creature. As you can imagine, it’s hard for people to believe he wrote such a beautiful love song when he hadn’t ever really had a long term relationship (two hearts in one home?? Who did you move in with, you can imagine them asking. When did you have time?). So what did he have to say about this?

"In my opinion,” he explained, “I think most songs are written for one listener. Maybe there's one thing in there that only they'll notice about them.... It's so much easier to say something in a song than it is to say it to someone and I think it's really amazing to be able to communicate through that and be able to wrap up everything that you want to say in three and a half minutes and say it in a song."

- HS, May 3 2017

By this time, please believe that I was screeching. Seeing this felt like he put into words the exact feeling I had about “Dream With Me”. It felt like a nod to someone that I didn’t know, which made the story hard to listen to, tbh. Although, I will say that when I did finally listen to it, it knocked me out and gave me odd dreams so. Once was enough for me haha!

So my new operating theory is exactly what Advansun said: I think that H was the primary writer/the driving force behind the story. Because of the references I’m about to run through, because it feels like the way he tells stories, and because they admitted to him being more involved than they originally claimed. That’s going to be how I write the rest of the analysis - under the impression that H had a direct hand in the story that was being put forth. However, I think that the analysis itself would stand whether or not he wrote any of it. It would just be a more tenuous reflection of him than I believe it to be.

2.) How Do I Love Thee? In Two Ways.

Before I jump into the story, let’s talk a little about the poem that I want to compare it to: Two Loves, by Lord Alfred Douglas. Let’s be clear this is not at all a defense of who Bosie was - he was a terrible person, particularly in his later years, when he’d converted to Catholicism and turned his back on his younger self, and his partner, Oscar Wilde. He was violently anti-Semitic, and turned his back on his own community. I want to get this out of the way because I very much believe that we should examine artists for who they are. That is, after all, what I am trying to do here.

But his poem Two Loves has often been used - much to his disappointment, I’m sure - as an exploration of queer love in Victorian times. A line that I will be exploring more deeply in a second was in fact used against Oscar Wilde in his trail for indecency . He attempted - unsuccessfully - to explain it away, but it was too blatantly about their relationship for even the British Victorian society to ignore. I really, really recommend a read of this poem, because it is - despite it’s author - a good piece of work, which explores the themes of shame and love and longing between two men in that time.

I’m going to start with my own background, as someone who’s analyzed fandoms before. I first came across this poem in the Sherlock fandom, with this analysis by @the-7-percent-solution, when I was running in that fandom, and she explains the poem brilliantly in just a few lines. I’m going to take a little longer to run through it, but if you want a concise explanation and a brilliant meta, I encourage you to run to their blog and check it out. That fandom taught me most everything I know about catching symbols and recurring themes and “clueing for looks” and I love it desperately, still.

But we’re here to talk about this fandom, so on with the poem! Essentially, the poem outlines a dream the speaker had: In his dream, he’s standing in a field with flowers - beautiful ones of all kind - and he meets this young man with clear blue eyes and bright red lips and they kiss a bit and have a picnic, and it’s all lovely. If you think I’m kidding, I’m really not. Please, read it for yourself.

Anyways, after they did they did the whole picnic thing, the speaker and his date go on a walk in this field, where they come across two figures. The first is described as,

“...fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids And joyous love of comely girl and boy, His eyes were bright, and 'mid the dancing blades Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy; And in his hand he held an ivory lute With strings of gold that were as maidens' hair, And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute, And round his neck three chains of roses were.”

- Two Loves, 1894

The speaker, however, was drawn to the second figure:

“He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight, And yet again unclenched, and his head Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death. A purple robe he wore, o'erwrought in gold With the device of a great snake, whose breath Was fiery flame..”

- Two Loves, 1984

Of course, the speaker immediately asks the second man who he is. The second man says, “My name is Love”. The first man corrects him quickly:

“ He lieth, for his name is Shame, But I am Love, and I was wont to be Alone in this fair garden, till he came Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.”

-Two Loves, 1984

The second man sighs and acquiesces, “Have thy will. I am the love that dare not speak its name.”

It was, of course, this last line that really gave the meaning of the poem away. It was the line that was put to Oscar Wilde as proof of a romantic relationship, it was the line that went down in history as a way to refer to queer love, and it was the line that first stuck out to me when I was reading “Dream With Me”.

The reading here is clearly that “Love” is the love that is acceptable to society - easy, sweet, and cherished. “Shame” is the love that happens in secret - beautiful, alluring to the speaker, passionate, anxious ( as can be seen in the clenching and unclenching of his hands), and proud. He refuses to call himself as anything but what he is. The first man may call him Shame, but he refuses the name, and instead, offers a qualifier to his own descriptor. He is still love, he is just the love that can’t be spoken about.

3.) Walking in Golden Fields of Sunflowers

Now let’s talk about “Dream With Me”. I’m ignoring the first few stanzas (from the line “Have you ever wondered” to “What the two of us can find”.) because those are pretty standard introductory paragraphs to a guided meditation. So we start with the line “Let’s travel now to moonlit valleys...”.

I’m going to do the same thing I did with “Two Loves” first. I am going to describe literally, in general terms, what happens in the story. Warning, I change pronouns from “they” to “you” because the whole thing confuses me, but note that I’m always talking about the speaker and the listener:

So after doing the standard intro, the speaker and the listener take a walk through the woods enjoying nature, particularly the grass, the trees, and the blue sky above. You’re already clearly in love. Then you’re magically on a raft, with cherry blossoms all around you. If you want a good visual for that, here’s a site that has pictures from a boat rental in Tokyo where you can snuggle on a raft in the Chidorigafuchi moat. And then suddenly it starts raining, and they (you) watch the rain for a hot second, and then the scene magically shifts again, and you’re under a porch (although I guess it could be the boat rental’s porch. They do usually have covered areas).

Kind of furthering that theory, they then lounge by the shoreline, skipping stones and hanging out, looking at the snow capped mountains. In case you’re curious, because at this point I sure was, you can see mountains from certain areas in the city of Tokyo.

Anyways, then it’s snowing, and you’re magically in a cabin, just chilling by the fire, and you fall asleep again. You wake up somewhere else.

Where are you now? Well, you’re on a tropical island filled with palm trees. As an American, my mind immediately jumps to the Caribbean, but I suppose it could absolutely be in the Mediterranean as well. The island has white beaches, mangroves, a turquoise ocean, and a gorgeous, peaceful atmosphere.

If you’re curious as to what a mangrove looks like - and I certainly was - they are a group of trees and shrubs that live in the coastal intertidal zone and Jamaica is doing a massive restoration project involving primary school children to regrow this vital part of their ecosystem. More interestingly, there currently exist no mangrove forests in the Mediterranean, so my initial feeling that this scene would take place in the Caribbean was correct. On that note - again, because I was curious - Jamaica has gorgeous white sand beaches with turquoise oceans.

But I’ve gone off topic again! After you’re minds are “in tune” once more (trying to find a heartbeat, anyone?), you reappear in a meadow, with beautiful flowers of all kind, where you are now walking hand in hand through a field of sunflowers, which give the feeling a “warm and golden hue”. Then you come across a little farmhouse with daisies poking out (clearly I have no way of locating this anywhere in the world, but I assume that the UK has both sunflowers and daisies). It’s an empty house which was loved and left because of the passage of time, which inspires my favorite line in the poem: “ The thought of passing time inspires/A feeling that grows stronger”. It’s just...really sweet to me.

So, of course, they do what anyone would do when they come across an empty farmhouse, they go inside. And there, they begin to fall asleep, reflecting on all they have just seen, referencing other scenes of the poem: “ Moonlit valleys, Burdened forests, Gazing at the ocean. Summer meadows, Tranquil sunsets steeped in emotion”.

The next few stanzas are just going to be copy-pasted, and then I’ll go into them a bit, but this is the end of the poem, so they’re the final reflections;

“The tenderness we feel When we are close Two minds as one Surrounds us and connects us But we’ve only just begun.

For now we dream together Of all there is to follow. And know that sleep will keep us safe From now until tomorrow.

Maybe all the memories That we’ve gathered here tonight Are all dreams now remembered Or wishes in plain sight.

No matter what They’re with us now. For this night and forever. And every time we close our eyes They’re yours and mine to treasure.”

- HS, Dream With Me, via @carl-and-pearl

And that’s it! The literal story, in short, is that you started in a forest, then went to Tokyo (maybe) and then Jamaica (perhaps) and then back to a field of sunflowers and daisies in the UK (which is also a guess, it could be Italy or France or Idaho for all I know, but let’s call it an educated guess).

4.) My Dream Journal

So now that we know what happens in the story, how do we interpret this? Well, There are a few lines in the poem that I want to draw your attention to: the first takes place in the first part of this story, when you’re still in the forest. This is, I must say, the most direct reference to Two Loves in the whole poem/song/story. Both works are describing a walk in the woods with your loved one, and, in a fun reference in the middle of the story, Dream With Me says

The shimmering reflection Shows us smiling from above. But what we think But dare not speak is L-O-V-E love.

-Dream With Me, 2020

Remember that line I mentioned before? I am the love that dare not speak its name. Right, so that’s almost a direct quote. It also has a really fun nod to “I Would” (Would he say he’s in L-O-V-E?/Well if it was me then I would), but I digress.

This first part of the narrative, I feel, really sets up what the rest of it will look and feel like, in the same way that “Golden” sets the tone for Fine Line. (You didn’t think I was going to make a post about Harry and NOT mention Golden, did you?? If you did, I’m disappointed!!). So let’s take a look at what’s happening, and the language he’s using to describe it.

One of the best things about this poem is how vivid it feels. Of course, I’m about to argue that it’s vivid because it was based in reality, but let’s talk about the sheer amount of detail he uses to describe the place he’s walking through. The valley (canyon lmao) is moonlit, the grass and the leaves make mosaics of green, you’re walking by the heather (the symbolism of heather is good luck, admiration, and protection), the sepia sunlight breaks through the trees.

You know what it kind of sounds like? Sweet Creature. You’re about to roll your eyes at me! I can feel it! But listen, okay?

“Sweet creature Running through the garden Oh, where nothing bothered us But we're still young I always think about you and how we don't speak enough”

Which, to be honest, sounds like what they’re doing. They’re walking through the garden in the sun, not daring to speak about the Love that he (they both) feel, and instead refering to it in veiled Victorian terms.

And then we head to Tokyo! I know that you’re about to ask me why I think it’s Tokyo versus...idk, anywhere else? Well, for one, he went to Tokyo (to let it go) publicly in 2019. He was there for a few months, and there are some great pictures of that time:

Look! Here he is with his club owner friend and his dog, and a fun red bandanna! But let’s be honest, the dog really steals the show here. But wait! there’s more! More dog content, too!

This was on Jan 31st, 2019, and he’s taking the dog for a walk! Very cute! If nothing else, he spent a lot of time with dogs in Tokyo! And the city fits the description of the story. So I feel rather comfortable with my interpretation that this first date is a memory of this trip - or another - to Tokyo.

So what did “you both”do in Tokyo? Well, chill on a raft while the cherry blossoms flutter around you, clearly. You also refocused your purpose. What did he do in Tokyo in 2019? Well, he took time to think about and write songs for the album he was about to go record. Kind of like refocusing on what’s next, right? And then, in the story when “you both” had time to think amongst the lake and the water and the rain and the moon, and you’d come to the conclusions you needed to, you left. What did he do when he did the things he needed to? Well, he left, too.

And where did he go? Well, in real life, I suppose he went to do his job. But, in the story, you’re meant to be falling deeper and deeper into sleep, so it’s sort of like traveling backwards, you see? Like counting down to one. So you end up on this island with turquoise ocean and mangrove forests. I’m calling this Jamaica. Why? Well, the description fits, for one, down to the four types of mangroves that exists within its ecosystem.

And - probably the biggest reason - I can place him there, too. Here’s him in 2017:

I added this picture because the water around him....looks rather turquoise, doesn’t it? Kind of like he’s enjoying his time on a tropical island by the beach?? Oh, and here’s another one!:

The red bandanna makes a comeback!

So what are you doing in Jamaica, according to the story? Well, you’re hanging out, basically. Enjoying the beach and each other, of course! What else? To be exact, “[Your] thoughts dovetail and unify/ In tune two minds together”. I’m so glad that you’re tuned like an old guitar now! Congrats! Really happy for you!

What was he doing in Jamaica three years ago? Why, he was recording his first album, or so the story goes. I’ll tell you something: finding press for that album was literally the most difficult part of this whole analysis. I got a fair bit of the tattoo roulette with Kendall Jenner, and some things about Carolina, but the interview with Zach Sang took me like an hour and a half to find again to link. The fact that a lot of it has been buried is...not great, for posterity purposes. He’s going to want that one day.

But I’ve gotten off track again! We gotta go back and finish our story, right? What happens now? Well, this does:

hahahaha okay, I’m really sorry, but I had to. I’m not, actually, making it up though! According to the story:

“ As minutes turn to hours We drift off somewhere new. And visualize a stairway To a door we now walk through”

- Dream With Me, 2020

So maybe Louis was just...demonstrating for you.

Anyways! Where do you walk out to? A golden field full of sunflowers. You walk for a minute, then come across an old house with daisies popping up out of the garden. And that’s where the story ends. I guess you’ve made that farmhouse feel like home.

Now to the little reflection he does on the outro. The lines I want to bring your attention are: “The tenderness we feel when we are close two minds as one surrounds us and connects us but we’ve only just begun” and “Maybe all the memories that we’ve gathered here tonight are all dreams now remembered or wishes in plain sight.”

Let’s talk about the first sentence first. In the context of finding a home that could be a shared home, and a future, this is very much an “end of the story, beginning of our lives” sort of thing. You’re back from all over, and it’s time to settle down, and see what’s next.

And now the second sentence. I think this is the one that really drives my point about this story being a collection of memories he has - that’s what he calls it. The story is “gathered memories” that might also be called “remembered dreams” (think of how people say of vacations, “oh it was a dream!”) or you might call it “wishes in plain sight”. This feels in line with the rest of the story. In this stanza, he’s sort of letting you in a bit. If I’ve read this right - and I really think that I have - he’s giving the larger context for the story. It’s a collection of memories he’s had with someone he loves.

5.) Cool! Can you prove it?

I mean, I’d argue that if you read this far, I have proved it, but let’s make some more links, shall we? This was called a “muscial epic” that was “driven by him”. I’d argue that if I know my Victorian literature (thank you, Sherlock!), then he definitely does. Then there’s the fact that he quoted it, so. That did happen. And he knows what it means. And even if he didn’t, there were two other people on the story. Someone was more than capable of catching that one, and the fact that they didn’t speaks to intent. They want you to think of that phrase when you read this poem. They want you to think of that walk in the woods while you’re going on this one.

And, as for my assumption that this is for and about one person, well. Think about it. He said that he writes his songs for a single listener. I’m not saying it’s the same listener each time, let’s get that right, but it is always just for one person. With that, and with the assumption that he’s been involved in the writing of this story, I’d say that the same rule applies. He went with someone to Japan and Jamaica (J^2 haha). And, if I had to guess, it was the same person.

Why, you ask? Well, for one, if that weren’t the case, then this poem would no longer be for one listener, it would be for multiple. And, for another, imagine how awkward it would be to listen to it with his current partner and have to explain “oh, yeah that was the super romantic vacation I took with someone else” . And, I suppose that because I think that attitude of “refocusing” and “dovetailing” and “tuning” and getting excited about imagining all of the tomorrows with your partner speaks to a long term relationship breathing easily, you know?

I’m also going to argue that describing the aura around the house as “golden” was intentional, especially when paired with the location - in the middle of a field of sunflowers. Those are both direct references to his songs. And those two songs are particularly linked by the number 28. The third song that features 28 is Fine Line the song, but that’s a different story. Anywho! “Golden”’s bridge just repeats the word ‘golden’ twenty eight times (if you go here , you can count the bridge) and “Sunflower Vol. 6″ ends the song with 28 “boops” (believe me, I wish I was making this up. I’m not.). So then, once again, you’ve linked a story to two already linked songs.

And, even if you don’t buy the intentional repetition, they’re linked another way, aren’t they? The color scheme and the sun symbol. Sunflowers were named because of their sun-like appearance. They turn to face it. They symbolize loyalty and adoration. And then, of course, the sun is - say it with me - golden. And it - like the person in golden - waits in the sky, beautiful and dangerous and constant. And here that symbol is, in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. At home.

This whole story feels like you’re taking the time to find that heartbeat that you think you might have lost, and sort of coming back to a space where you understand that this is what you want, now and forever. It feels like finding a home that could be yours forever, and it feels like walking through some of the moments that remind him of that.

It really is rather lovely, if you think about it, especially since he has a tendency to attribute “home” to people rather than place, in his songs. So it’s like. Going all around the world and always being at home.

#harry styles #calm #dream with me #two loves #honestly man #im happy for you #but ewww #be less sappy please #i mean #SOME OF US DONT HAVE THAT YET HAROLD #hahahaha i think im funny #long post ts #idk how else to tag this but im really proud of it #okay now i'll do the penguin song #promise hahaha

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 4 years

Text

companions react to love/lipstick marks on their or f!soles neck/skin ~

How would romanced companions including Preston react to not realizing that fem!sole left a kiss/lipstick mark on their cheek or neck until someone points it out?💋

Hope this ask doesn't come off as too NSFW?: How'd companions react to someone pointing out the hickies Sole left on them the night before or the ones left on her by them?

so i had two requests that were nearly similar and decided to put them together! i mixed it up a little so there was a variety. this was a cute & silly request. i hope you enjoy! <3

[ nsfw ahead! ]

Danse:

the minute someone had pointed out the mark on his neck, it’d take him about a minute or two to fully process and comprehend the words that escaped their mouth. once he did, he’d grow horrified, realizing what that mark was and what caused it. all the events from the night before would suddenly hit him like a train and he’d stutter, unable to form any sentence. he would soon give up, eventually thanking and excusing himself from the individual as he scurried over to their house to find the nearest mirror. his face grew unnaturally red as every moment began replaying in his head. he’d remember the exact moment he got that hickey- sole was sitting on his lap, sucking the exposed skin on his neck as he tangled his hand in her hair, his other one squeezing her hip tightly. it’d take him a little while to shake off the embarassment that had built up moments before and he’d shake his head a few times before looking at the mirror. after assessing the damage on his neck, he’d come to a conclusion to wear anything and everything that could conceal it from the public. he’d try to maintain a professional appearance as much as he possibly could and would talk to sole about slowing it down and softening it up a bit once she returned from her week long mission. little did he know, he was about to do anything but that. the more time passed by, the thought of softening it began to fade into oblivion as he wondered how those same marks would look on her soft skin. he was probably gonna go at it harder with the lack of her presence around him, he just had to wait and see. there was just no winning with sole.

Deacon:

the bright red lipstick mark on his collarbone wouldn’t faze him once someone had brought it up. deacon would think they were pulling his leg to mess with him, but was soon to be proven as nothing but the truth when tom had pulled out a mirror in front of him. his eyes would linger on the lipstick stain on his skin and notice the stain that had marked on his signature white shirt. with a dramatic whine, he’d comically throw his arms in the air, “aw man! this is my favorite shirt too!” tom would laugh at him and shove his arm playfully with a grin, “don’t be complaining now. i’d kill to have someone to spend my life with.” deacon shot him a look that screamed ‘touché’ and stretched his collar out a little to see the stain better. with a nod of approval, he’d lightly brush his fingers over the mark as he observed it, “can’t deny that i look pretty good in red, dontcha think?” tom would roll his eyes, going back to the terminal he was once working on. “whatever you say, dude.” deacon would send him one last grin before stalking off elsewhere, “i’m right and you know it.” once nightfall had hit and they found themselves alone in a private area, he’d push them against a wall gently and suck on their collarbone. sole would squeak in surprise and moan at the feeling of his tongue traveling along her chest. she’d grab shoulders as he worked his way down. “this is what you get for ruining my favorite shirt.” he’d mutter onto her skin, placing soft kisses against it. they both knew it wasn’t about the shirt, deacon could give less of a shit. even if it was a black shirt, he’d do the same exact thing he was doing now. he just thought that lipstick stain was hot, really.

Hancock:

a man would confront the mayor about soles marks on her neck and arms out of concern, wondering if she was getting injured on her adventures and not informing him. with a proud grin and a hearty laugh, he would thank the resident of his town for his concern and ease his worries with hints that could easily be deciphered. “those are special marks, brother,” he’d wink at the man, who’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in what seemed like surprise, “and i know exactly what they’re from.” the man would take a moment to process the mayors words and would excuse himself quietly, with a light blush on his face. he would take a lot of pride on it, having no shame in announcing that he was the source of the marks. he’d gladly leave a hundred more on sole if she’d let him. the feeling of her skin on his lips and the sounds she always made when he did so put him in absolute bliss. when him and sole stopped by the third rail for a quick drink and talk, he’d hug her from behind and whisper in her ear huskily. “you look amazing, sunshine.” he’d trace over the marks that littered her arms, softly brushing his fingers over them. sole would lean into him, muttering in response, “you really didn’t hold back, did you, love?” sole felt his lips ghost over her neck and his hands travel down her side, sending shivers down her spine, “don’t think i’m done just yet, sunshine. i’m far from it.” she has never pulled hancock faster out of a building than she did now.

Maccready:

absolutely childish about it at first once someone points out the hickey that was plastered on his neck for everyone to see. he’d let out a girlish scream and cover it up with his scarf, nearly startling the person in front of him. with a flushed face, he’d nod at the settler, “t-thanks.” they would acknowledge his words and he’d take off without a second thought, silently ‘cursing’ to himself. even if maccready complained about it to you, he knows he likes the idea of him being marked and he is well aware he’ll do it again someday. it still doesn’t change the fact that he tries to hide it though, wearing things he’d normally never wear; turtlenecks, things with collars, scarves, and anything and everything that could possibly conceal it. it’s well known that mac isn’t too fond of attention on himself and prefers things to stay private between himself and his loved ones. though his intentions were to hide it from anyone he came across, his main reason was to keep it away from his children’s eyes. if they saw that mark, it’d be the end of him. they probably wouldn’t quit bombarding mac with questions or begging him for some kind of story, obviously enticed by his adventures out in the wasteland. how the hell was he supposed to make up a story for that? “don’t pretend you don’t like it.” sole teased, tracing the hickey with her finger. mac blushed and looked elsewhere, childishly crossing his arms, “fine. i do..” he admitted with a whisper, “.. but can you leave it in more discreet places next time?” sole laughed and agreed, placing a kiss his cheek as an apology.

Nick Valentine:

hancock would be the first to approach nick with a shiteating smirk, closing the door behind him as he entered the agency. nick would look up from his papers, raising a brow at the ghoul as he continued to stand there with his arms crossed. “what can i help you with today, mayor hancock?” hancock would take a step closer, his smirk turning into a grin. “oh you know what i’m here for.” nick shot him a confused expression, putting down the papers he was previously reading, “didn’t know you had it in ya.” nick would give him the most dumbfounded expression, silently wondering what the hell hancock meant, “now what in the world are you talking about?” hancock would let out a chuckle, “your lady is definitely marked. it doesn’t take a blind man to see it.” he’d blink in surprise, a look of disbelief on his face. “i’m sorry?” a roar of laughter left hancock’s mouth, obviously entertained by the stunned expression left on the synths face. “you heard me right, nick.” itd take him a moment to process his words and he’d rub his eyes with a groan, “goddammit.” the mayor would reassure nick, having no intentions of embarrassing him, only notifying him of his observation, “hey man, it’s a normal thing. it happens, don’t need to fret about it.” nick would thank the ghoul and make his way out the door to find sole and apologize to her. he’d catch sight of her ordering ammo from arturos shop, grimacing at the obvious marks that littered her neck. sole jumped in surprise hearing a cough near her and smiled at nick who waved. after a short greeting, he’d pull sole to the side where no one can see them and apologize to her about the marks he left, offering a way to help her cover up. even through her constant reassurance that it was okay, he’d still continue to make it up to her by committing acts of services and would tone it down a little the next time around.

Preston:

is completely embarrassed by it and becomes immensely flustered at the fact that someone noticed the multiple love bites he had left on his better half from the night before. much to his horror, he hadn’t left it in just one area- no he had left it on different parts of her body, even the ones that couldn’t be seen. he didn’t realize how rough he was that night to mark her that way and how lost they were during the moment. preston would immediately feel guilt, not knowing how sole might’ve taken it and would confront her about the issue almost immediately to apologize. he’d feel even worse seeing how it stood out against her skin and would try to make it up to her with apologies and actions. he’d offer a scarf or jacket to cover it up, give her flowers in hopes to brighten her day, and countless other things. once sole had waved it off, explaining that she didn’t mind cause they were a couple, he’d feel his shoulders ease at her forgiveness and would thank her and apologize once more with a small peck. sole would then wrap her arms around his shoulders, sending him a playful wink as she smirked, “so lieutenant..” she whispered flirtatiously, batting her eyelashes, “..do i look pretty?” he’d swallow nervously, his mouth becoming dry as he observed the marks that littered her skin. “y-you always do, general,” he nervously replied. sole would move closer to his face, her warm breath fanning his lips as she maintained eye contact with him. “show me then.” he felt his hands clench tighter around the laser musket he was holding. she was sure in for one hell of a ride.

Sturges:

sturges laughed about the lipstick mark that painted his cheek once someone had pointed it out. being busy and occupied all the time, he wouldn’t even have the slightest idea of it being there so it’s easy to say he was surprised. he’d rub that particular area with his finger and look at his glove which became smothered with red, confirming that it was indeed soles lipstick. he knew that shade from anywhere- only she would have prewar lipstick this color. well to be fair, he’d only let sole kiss him anyway. with a small blush, he’d laugh it off while attempting to rub the lipstick stain off of his face. “how did ya think i get paid ‘round here for all my hard work?” he’d banter innocently, not aware of how lewd it came off as. when the settler didn’t laugh with him and instead became red, smiling at him awkwardly, he’d feel himself grow immensely embarrassed. “uh, that’s not what i meant,” he stumbled, scratching the nape of his neck, “i-i should probably go now.” the poor tinkerer would go back to work on his project, trying to take his mind off of the events that had just occurred. once sole made it home, he’d run up to her, wrapping her in his arms with a soft kiss on her hair. all his emotions of embarrassment would be replaced by relief and happiness as she melted into his embrace. “glad you made it home safe, sweetheart.” she’d pull away from the hug, brushing the spot where she left the mark, “huh, i guess they were right. i really did leave a stain on you,” she laughed, observing the colored smudge plastered on his cheek, “hope it didn’t cause you too much trouble.” sturges would shake his head, a red hue growing on his face as he brought sole into a soft kiss. “not at all.” sole would laugh at the new mark that stained his lips and would pat his cheek, “let’s get you cleaned up, handsome.”

Gage:

gage would become a little annoyed that someone would bother him to point out something as simple as that, knowing damn well he was an adult and everyone else around him probably was too. he’d glare at the man who had announced his mark to him, irritation obviously evident in his voice, “what? you haven’t seen a hickey in yer life or somethin’?” he’d sneer, scaring off the person who confronted him. “am i fuckin’ surrounded by a buncha five year olds or somethin’?” he doesn’t really care if his marks show or not. it was a normal thing in life so why should he be bothered by it? sole could mark his face and he could give less of a shit than he did now. it was just a natural part of their sex life at this point and they wouldn’t even realize they marked each other until the following morning. the only person he’d really be okay with talking about is sole.. obviously. “looking good today, gage.” shed wink, passing by him with a smirk. he’d let out a small snicker, looking at her with loving eyes and a small smile. “yeah, yeah. sure boss.” though he didn’t say it out loud, those marks really did look fucking great on her. he’d be sure to fill in the empty spots later.

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dulce-pjm · 4 years

Text

takes two to tango

word count: 3.0k

genre: fluff, absolutely tooth-rotting

summary: hoseok solved his problems and got the girl. he’d worked up the courage to ask you out and now life couldn’t be better, living as your boyfriend. but what’s the point of dating if he can’t even kiss you?

Damn. Hoseok was a real loser, wasn’t he?

Three weeks, three fucking weeks of dating you and he hasn’t been able to kiss you once.

He’d thought the hard part was over when he was finally able to spit out that he liked you before finals and asked you on a date. After a semester of desperate pining and you being completely oblivious to his flirting attempts, he thought the worst was over.

But alas, no.

Your one-month anniversary was rapidly approaching and Hoseok has yet to lock lips with you.

Maybe it’s stupid to be so caught up over such a small thing. But Hoseok likes you and he really doesn’t think it’s too much to ask for and he’d just really, really like to kiss you.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. He’d gone through all the steps, even resorting to the cheap tricks he’d used in high school. But the timing was always shit or something stupid got in the way. It felt like the universe had it out for him, putting the chance just within his grasp before promptly yanking it away in the most inconvenient (and sometimes embarrassing) manner possible.

Should Hoseok be grateful for the time he’s already gotten to spend with you? Yes. And he is. You’re spectacular. A joy to be around. You kept him guessing and laughing and happy.

Actually, he’d actually kind of already gotten his wish. You’d kissed him on the cheek in joy after watching your team win whilst on an ice hockey date. You turned out to be surprisingly (and scarily) competitive, which Hoseok found all the more adorable. Despite being a small gesture born from the exciting moment, he’d found himself giggly and shy, melting from the attention. That night, while walking you home in the cold, he’d snuck a quick peck on your forehead before bidding you good night. He found himself wishing he’d done more as you disappeared behind your door, smiling to yourself.

But Hoseok was human. He was greedy. He just wanted one, small, teeny weeny little thing. And that thing was to kiss you on the lips, goddammit.

You weren’t his first girlfriend. He isn’t an amateur at this.

So why was it so fucking hard?

His first attempt was on your second date. Which, admittedly, might be a little soon but it actually wasn’t even his attempt. It was yours. The two of you were ice skating when he kept catching you staring at him.

“What, is there something on my face?” You’d giggled, reaching up your hand and lightly tapping his nose.

“You just look cold. And very cute.” Despite attempting to maintain a cool facade, the compliment had Hoseok reeling. His cheeks only grew warmer as you leaned upwards, eyes becoming half-lidded. He’d grinned, ducking down to meet you halfway.

It was perfect.

Until your skates suddenly lost traction and you slipped, lips colliding with his shoulder instead of his face.

Caught off guard, the both of you tumbled to the ground. In a movie, it might have been even more romantic. But in reality, falling on ice hurts like a fucking bitch. It took an entire minute for you both to get back on your feet, laughing and shouting from the pain along the way.

Cold and traumatized and bruised, the two of you shuffled back to the entrance while clutching onto each other for dear life, kiss long forgotten.

You both swore never to go ice skating again.

Hoseok’s actual first attempt had been at a small Christmas party. Hoseok’s Christmas party, in fact. It was for a small dance exercise class he led every Monday through the university. It was through that same class that he met you, actually. You and several of your friends were regulars, and soon he was smitten. He wasn’t sure whether it was your laugh or your smile or your unending optimism that drew him in, only that he had fallen for you and hard. You two, along with the rest of the group, had naturally gotten close over the past semester, so Hoseok decided to give the group one last hurrah together via a small Christmas party just after everyone finished their exams.

While everyone else was pigging out on brownies or getting drunk off of cheap beer or karaoke-ing to the best of their abilities (which was pretty god-awful), you and Hoseok were camped out in the corner, trying your best to put together a gingerbread house.

You were failing magnificently, but that didn’t make the activity any less fun. Hoseok was in charge of holding the pieces while you piped icing, with you naturally taking every opportunity to swipe bits of the white fluff on his nose and cheeks and forehead. He’d cried out in protest, promising to exact his revenge, but he cared too much about this stupid gingerbread house to move his hands and risk the whole thing collapsing.

But before you could even get to the decorating stage, the whole thing shattered. Literally shattered. You blamed it on Hoseok, claiming he’d been gripping it so hard that the pieces snapped in two. He, in turn, blamed it on you for being such a distraction.

While the two of you were playfully bickering, one of your friends snuck up behind the table with a bunch of mistletoe.

“Kiss already, ya lovebirds!” she’d cried, clearly having one (or three) too many beers. The entire class was painfully invested in your relationship, so it only made sense that they’d also tease you about it relentlessly.

The two of you glanced up at the green leaves and then back at each other. A pitchy rendition of ‘Silent Night’ echoed throughout the room. Hoseok smiled and leaned in, muttering something about “tradition” and “giving the people what they want, Y/N.”

His eyes fluttered closed as his lips approached yours, his last thought being how nice you looked and how warm his heart felt.

It was perfect.

And then you wiped a massive blob of thick white icing across his entire face. He’d gasped while you and the rest of the party burst into a fit of giggles.

“I’m sorry-” You choked on your laughter, tears sprung from your eyes. “-Hoseok, the opportunity was just too good! You should have seen your face!” He didn’t have it in him to be mad at you, not when your laugh was that adorable.

Instead, he’d rubbed his frosting-covered cheek all over yours for revenge as you screeched and struggled against his grip. By the end of the night, both of your cheeks were aching from laughter.

But still, no kiss.

At your annual New Years’ Party, he’d tried a different strategy: being slick.

The two of you were pleasantly tipsy but not quite drunk. And the alcohol gave Hoseok just enough courage to try kissing you again.

While perched on two barstools around your kitchen island, he’d casually thrown his arm around your shoulder while you were babbling about some story a friend had told you. He’d tried to listen, he really did, but what was a guy supposed to you when you looked as cute as you did?

“I mean, what are the odds? They saw each other in standstill traffic, Hobi. Isn’t that so romantic?”

“Mhmm.” Feeling the weight of his arm, you moved to look his way and felt your face getting very hot very quickly with the way he was gazing at you.

“Hobi?” He was much too caught up in how soft your lips looked from here, slightly parted and inviting. Everything about you was soft and sweet.

His eyes flickered back to yours, shimmering under the mood lighting.

He shifted forward, not loosening his gaze for even a second. He was going to relish every second of this, every second of you.

It was so perfect.

But in his drunken stupor, Hoseok hadn’t quite noticed the way his barstool was wobbling until it was too late and he tumbled to the floor.

You immediately freaked, rushing to his aid. While your concern was genuine and made Hoseok happy that you cared for him, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. The mood was dead once you lugged him to the couch and, despite his protests, insisted he lie down for a while and instructed him to not touch any more alcohol, worried that he’d injure himself further. The night ended kiss-free and with Hoseok falling asleep before the clock struck twelve, missing the countdown.

But last weekend? Now that was the final straw.

The two of you had decided to catch a drive-in movie, some silly rom-com. You’d suggested a holiday-themed horror movie, but Hoseok was quick to shut that idea down. Not only was he a coward, but he wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to be romantic when there were demons threatening to jump-scare him every three seconds.

As the two leads finally began confessing their feelings in the final act of the movie, Hoseok looked to you. He found you staring right back, as if you knew this was coming.

His hand lifted to cup your cheek as the male lead cried “I love you!” Your hands slid behind the back of his neck as your eyes shut and the two of you grew closer and closer, lips mere millimeters apart. Hoseok could smell your lavender shampoo and cherry lip gloss, could even count your lashes from here.

It was so fucking perfect. The epitome of romance. As the two leads passionately confessed, Hoseok and you were about to share your first kiss.

And then some idiot fell asleep on their horn, sending the obnoxious, blaring sound echoing throughout the drive-in lot. Hoseok shrieked, absolutely startled to the core.

“For fuck’s sake!” he’d cried, throwing himself back in the driver’s seat.

You’d found immense humor in his pouting and tried to tease him back into his old self, but the moment was long gone. Hoseok cursed the male lead for being able to get his girl when he was so clearly suffering. You held his hand for the rest of the film and jokingly critiqued it on the way home. But it wasn’t enough. Hoseok had just one thing he wanted and he couldn’t even accomplish that.

And now, he had a vendetta against the whole fucking universe.

He was going to kiss you if it killed him. And it was going to be perfect.

He’s chanting that thought like a mantra as the two of you are taking a very romantic stroll in the park, hands intertwined and bodies huddled together to conserve heat in the winter weather.

“I can’t believe we only have one semester left,” you murmur, clutching your coat closer to your body. “I still feel like a kid.”

“Based on your eating habits, I’d have to agree.” You gasp in shock, slapping his arm.

“Hey! What do you have against Lunchables?” Hoseok laughs at your offended look, finding you all too endearing.

“It’s not the Lunchables I have a problem with. Lunchables are great. It’s the cheese and peanut-butter crackers you’re crazy about. It’s disgusting.” You roll your eyes and groan, tired of this argument.

“For the last time, I didn’t know they were cheese flavored and they taste good!”

“Why else would they be orange, Y/N?” You shake your head, refusing to indulge him any further. “Disgusting.”

The two of you approach a quaint bridge crossing a babbling creek. The sky is colored with purples and pinks and oranges, reflected across the water. A few kids are playing by the shore, much to the disdain of their parents. Hoseok feels his chance approaching.

You both stop and lean against the bridge railing, watching the sunset. You nuzzle against him, taking delight in his warmth.

Hoseok studies the way the light reflects off of your face, the way a small smile creeps across your lips. You’re beautiful. Hoseok feels immensely lucky to have had you for this long. There’s a growing part of him that wants to keep you forever.

“You’re so pretty-”

“It’s so pretty-”

The words are uttered at the same time, you staring at the sky and Hoseok staring at you. When you meet his eyes, the two of you can’t help but laugh quietly to yourselves. Timing’s always been funny for you, huh.

As the sun peaks farther behind the horizon, Hoseok tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You can’t fight the grin on your face as Hoseok wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you in.

This is perfect. This is the moment Hoseok has been waiting for. He’d suffered for three miserable weeks, but it was all about to be worth it. There’s absolutely nothing that can shatter the happiness in Hoseok’s heart.

“Oh my god, is that a dog?” You’re torn from Hoseok’s embrace as you dash across the bridge. All he can do is sigh and grasp at the cold air you’d occupied seconds before.

When he turns to see where you’ve run off to, he finds you plopped on the ground loving on a fluffy black and gold mutt. You crane your neck to face him.

“It doesn’t have a collar, Hobi. I think it’s a stray.” The dog jumps excitedly against your chest, tackling you to the ground and licking at your cheeks and nose and mouth. Showering you with kisses before Hoseok’s eyes.

Lucky bastard.

Hoseok doesn’t have the heart to be mad. You’re too damn adorable. And the dog is pretty cute too. The puppy jumps from you to Hoseok, hopping excitedly and running between his legs.

“Hyper one, aren’t you?”

He begrudgingly takes the creature into his arms and hauls you to your feet, mumbling that he knows where the nearest animal shelter is. You trail after him, doting on the animal the whole way. Hoseok sighs, accepting the fact that he’s not getting his kiss tonight. But he thinks he’s okay with that, what with the way you’re talking in your animal voice and gushing over how cute this dog is.

God, Hoseok’s such a loser. But he’d like to hope that he’s your loser now.

“I miss him already!” you cry as the two of you stumble out of the shelter. Startled by the chill, you quickly take his hand, but even that can’t bring Hoseok the joy he wants.

“He’ll have a nice and loving home soon, don’t worry,” he soothes, ruffling your hair. He does his best to smile, but it comes off strained and fake, and you notice. Your lip immediately puffs out at his sulking.

“Is there something wrong?” Guilt fills Hoseok’s chest at your genuine worry. But he’d been acting strangely since New Year’s, he knew, so he figured at this point he owed you an explanation.

“Well...” Hoseok ponders the situation, trying to put together the right words. “Ireallywannakissyoubutshitkeepsgettingintheway.”

“I- what?” You’re staring at him in utter confusion. Hoseok sighs as you lean in closer, trying to decipher his words.

“I’ve been trying to kiss you for three weeks now but it never works out!” he shouts into the cold night air, relief filling him as he finally gets his biggest worry off of his chest.

You’re silent for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound sweet and loud and in any other case, infectious. Hoseok pouts, wondering how you always manage to find the humor in his suffering. The sun is long set but he can still make out your cackling figure in the lamplight.

You regain your breath before pulling him closer to you, still giggling between your words.

“Why didn’t you just ask?” It’s a genuine question, Hoseok supposes. He’s about to answer, but that’s when you say something that sends him over the edge. “It’s just a kiss, there’s no need to take it so seriously.”

“Of course it’s serious!” he exclaims, making you jump. He quickly lowers his voice, looking at the ground sheepishly. “Well- I only mean that I’m serious about you. So I just wanted it to be nice and romantic and perfect because I care about you a lot and you deserve that, okay? And I know that we’ve only been dating for a few weeks but I really-”

When Hoseok lifts his eyes, you’re whipping your head around wildly, as if you’re being stalked or something is about to pop out from behind a corner.

“Y/N? What are you doing? Is something wrong?” After a few more seconds of your paranoid glances, you meet his eyes, a cheeky grin plastered across your face. You shrug innocently.

“I was just checking to make sure nothing could possibly interrupt us.” Hoseok freezes, jaw dropping slightly. You find the expression hilarious but decide to keep that to yourself. And then Hoseok is smiling like an idiot and pulling you close and running a hand through your hair.

Your lips barely brush against his when you suddenly lean your head back, making Hoseok cry out in frustration. You can’t get far though, not when you’re wrapped in his arms.

“Just for the record,” you say, lifting a single finger between your chests. “That was the most romantic and perfect thing you could have said before our first kiss.” Hoseok rolls his eyes. You choke back a giggle at his impatience. You watch the puffs of condensation leave his lips, considering torturing him for longer, but you don’t. “Now, please continue.”

With your permission, Hoseok does the one thing he’s been waiting all too long for. Despite his pent-up frustration, he kisses you softly and slowly, relishing in every second and every touch.

After a long minute, he pulls away, gazing at you happily. You stare right back, unable to wipe the stupid grin off of your face. You’re content and lovestruck and stupid together. Until a large gust of chilly wind hits you and the two of you are screaming and tearing off back to your respective apartments.

It certainly wasn’t perfect. Maybe a little sloppy. Certainly not like Hoseok would have planned it.

But it was with you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#bts #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts fanfic #hoseok fluff #hobi fluff #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenario #ngl im so proud of this one #this was the concept i toyed and changed with the most but now im in love #dedicated to my lovely friends who inspired and helped build this story #the shortest but def the sweetest #enjoy!!!!

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bl597 · 4 years

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Hello! I just found your blog and I loved your writing 💜 Idk if I can request something? Like the reader forgot her clothes or ruin them, wanted to lend some from Ginny but she is smaller so ends up using Fred's, he is shooked, flustered, and happy. All fluffy and stuff. Thanks 💜💜💜

hello, sweetie! thank you sooooooo much 💞💞 of course you can, feel free to request as many imagines as you want to! I hope you enjoy it, sorry it took me so long to post it! 💖

warnings: fluff yay, kind of gender neutral!reader (?), it got a little small (sorry), english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes! requests are open!!

my masterlist ♡

Ginny, your best friend, had invited you to stay at the Burrow during your summer break, and you, of course, accepted it. You loved the family of redheads as if it was your own, and loved to stay at the Burrow. It had been almost two weeks since you arrived and you and the 'kids' were having lots of fun together.

You, Ginny, Ron, the twins, Harry, Bill and Charlie were playing quidditch, and Molly (as she told you to call her), Hermione and Arthur (as he also told you to call him) were cheering for you all. It was funny to play with them, since you were competitive little shits and didn't want to lose, so you all made a bet: the team that loses has to degnome the garden, and no one wanted to do it.

Your team lost and you had to degnome the garden right after the game because the twins wouldn't let you guys live if you didn't do it as soon as possible. After about an hour or so, Molly told you all to take a shower so you could eat something. You and Ginny went first and the boys went after.

You were with Ginny in her room, looking for something comfortable to wear. Frowning, you turned to her “Hey, Ginny, could you borrow me a shirt? Mine are dirty.”

“Sure” she said, looking for a shirt in her wardrobe. She then handed you a white shirt and you thanked her, putting it on but pouting when you realised it was too small and too tight for you “Do you want me to look for some other?” she asked.

“Yes, please” you nodded, smiling at her and folding the shirt, putting it where it was again.

She then left the room and you sat down on the bed, waiting for her to return. After a few minutes she came back with a bigger shirt, handing it to you with a small smirk. You thanked her, finding her a little suspicious but just ignoring it.

The shirt was big and really comfortable, it smelt like the Burrow and a weirdly familiar cologne, but you couldn't identify where you had smelt it before. When you turned to her, she was smiling widely at you, practically beaming with pride. You opened your mouth to ask why she was like this, but Mrs Weasley's voice interrupted you, calling you two to tell you dinner is ready. Ginny then dragged you downstairs with her, the smile as big as always.

The first person you saw was Ron, who looked at the shirt you were wearing and then at Ginny, mouthing something like 'is that his shirt?', to which Ginny nodded excitedly. Ron then left, smirking at your confused face. You turned to Ginny, ready to ask her what the hell was that when you were interrupted once again, this time by George.

“Look what we have here.” he said smirking while placing an arm around your shoulder. “So you liked Freddie's shirt, uh, (Y/n)?”

“What?” you asked, already feeling your face getting hot.

“Hey, Fred! I've found your shit!” he yelled to his twin, who just entered the room. When he locked eyes with you, his face became as hot and red as his hair, just like your face was and he lowered his head to avoid your curious eyes, with what looked like a shy smile on his lips.

“Ginny!” you exclaimed, blushing furiously.

But when you turned around to face her, she was smirking. She then cupped her ear, as if she heard something “Oh, sorry, mom just called me and George to help her. Have fun, you two” she said, pulling George by his arm so he could follow her, they both giggling.

You and Fred stayed quiet, too embarrassed to say something or look at each other. You glanced at him, noticing he was shirtless, but then you quickly looked away, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable, focusing on the roof instead. “So,” you shyly spoke “why are you shirtless?"

“Because you're with my shirt” he said, chuckling.

“Oh.” you looked at his face, an apologetic half smile on your face. “I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was yours. I can ta-”

“No, it's okay” he cut you off “It's okay, you can stay with it. I'll just find another one.”

“Okay, then.” you smiled at him “Now, if you excuse me, I'll kill your sister right now.”

“I'll put some clothes on before mom catches me and then I can help you” he winked, climbing the stairs to go to his room, leaving you a blushing mess.

After that day, you and Fred were kind of awkward with each other, and whenever you two were alone, there was this uncomfortable silence. Like, he made a few jokes but it just felt weird. Ginny and George didn't stop teasing the shit out of you two ever since then, always nudging you when he entered the room or vice versa.

It was kind of boring, actually. You really liked spending time with the twins, especially Fred, but now you couldn't say anything without making the situation awkward. The fact that you always remembered that moment also didn't really help, since all you could think about was Fred's face when he saw you in his shirt. His face was as red as his hair and he was looking down, but there was still that small smile on his face that made you wonder a lot. Was he trying to hide his laugh? Or was he actually smiling?

The thought that he probably was smiling made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. You didn't really want to admit it to yourself, but you may or may not have feelings for the redhead). It was obvious to anyone who looked at you whenever Fred was around; you were a blushing and stuttering mess, and could barely function like a normal human being. Ginny – and honestly the whole castle – knew about your 'secret' feelings for her old brother, she noticed the not-so subtle stares you sent Fred's way everytime you were in the same room and she was sick of watching her brother doing the exact same thing with you, so that was why she and George came up with the 'shirt plan'.

You were now sitting with Ginny and Hermione on the Burrow's garden, just admiring the beautiful sunset in front of you. Hermione then nudged Ginny with her elbow, raising her brow at the redhead with a look that you didn't really understand, which made you furrow. Ginny then nodded, the same diabolic smile on both their faces.

“Mione, I just remembered something! We have to do that... thing! Yeah, that thing! Remember?” she exclaimed, already getting up. “Let's go!”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, the thing!” Hermione said, quite awkwardly, getting ready to leave with Ginny.

“Can I go too?” you asked, looking at them whilst pouting.

“No, sorry” Ginny said “It's..”

“A thing for only two people! Sorry, (Y/n/n)” Hermione quickly cut her off, giving you an apologetic smile before dragging Ginny with her, whispering something you couldn't hear.

You sighed, enjoying the view anyway. You stayed like that for a few minutes, the sunlight kissing your skin, its warmth making you feel a little less cold. Despite being summer now, the night breeze was really cold, and you cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket or a jumper like Hermione told you to.

After a minute or two you heard footsteps quietly approaching you, then the person sat down next to you without saying anything, just enjoying the beautiful view. You saw the messy red hair sitting beside you, his blue sweater with a large yellow 'F' on it made you realise who it was.

“Aren't you cold?” his deep voice brought you back to reality and you blinked at him, shaking your head slowly. “Are you sure?”

“I'm fine, Fred” you answered shyly, still not looking directly at him.

He didn't say anything and you two fell in an almost comfortable silence for the first time ever since the 'shirt plan'. You then felt something on your shoulders, something soft and that made you warm up. Looking down, you saw a jacket that you recognized as his and it smelt exactly like that shirt, Fred's scent was intoxicating and you swore you could never get enough of it.

“Nice view, don't you think?” he asks whilst turning to face you and smiling.

“Yeah.” you nodded “The sun is amazing, especially at this time of the day.”

“The sun is beautiful too, but I prefer another view” he said quietly, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

“And what is that?” you asked shyly, seeing his face lit up and a smirk replace his smile.

“You.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but you never found the right words. What were you supposed to do at this moment? You didn't even need to see yourself in a mirror to know that your face is just as hot and red as fire now, and you were pretty sure he definitely noticed it, the playful smirk on his face confirming your suspicions.

“Oh” was all you managed to say. You mentally face palmed yourself, embarrassed by your lack of coherent answers. “Thank you?”

He laughed quite loudly, throwing his head back. You confusedly looked at him, silently asking what was so funny and he just shook his head, still giggling. “You're weird.” he replied between giggles, giving you a big smile.

“That's really rude of you, did you know that?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

“I meant it in a good way, love”

You crossed your arms, huffing, and turned to watch the sunset that was now almost gone. The sky was a beautiful mix of orange and pink shades and it looked like a real life painting. You were too focused on the beautiful sky in front of you that you didn't even notice Fred's silly smile, looking at you in awe.

“So, someone told me you have feelings for me. Is that true, (Y/l/n)?” he asked in a playful tone, slowly inching closer to you.

“Who told you that?!” you exclaimed, looking at him with wide eyes “It was Ginny or George, wasn't it? Oh, I'll kill them!”

“Maybe” he quietly spoke before smirking again “Well, I might return these feelings.”

“What?!”

“You heard me the first time” he playfully rolled his eyes “Can you confirm if the rumors are true?”

“Which rumors?” you stuttered, blushing.

“That we have a date next week”

“What?!”

“You're not as smart as I thought you were” he joked “I was asking if you wanted to go on a date next week? With me?”

You only nodded, not trusting your own voice to say anything at the moment. He smiled widely at you before turning back to the sky in front of you two, you both watching it silently, just enjoying each other's company.

You smirked when you heard whispers a few feet behind you, whose voices you recognized as Ginny, Hermione and George's excitedly cheering that their little 'plan' worked.

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@witchorical @fific7 @iamak20 @msmimimerton @grierpilots @idontknowwhatthisisfam @imseeinggred

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