#is there a roundabout way for this?? i really fucking need it

[kazoo-the-demjin]

tumblr? really now. this update fucking sucks ASS and in a VERY pathetic fucking way. Im not able to go back to the post the person rbed it from?? it used to happen when i click on the faded user name beside username. It used to be SO helpful in removing unwanted tags. Now? It just sends me back to the rb-ee's BLOG. NOT the POST. for the desktop users.

You can't fathom the depths of my rage at this

[shopcat]

this might sound a bit dumb and out of no where but hmmm. how do i say this... there are a lot of posts and a general consensus about quote unquote media literacy on tumblr and how we feel about it, as well as the things that go hand in hand with all that (discussion of mischaracterisation, symbolism, analysis, etc) and i think people (generally) need to be more open about their thoughts or findings and less i don't know... harsh isn't the word but like, just less assumptive that people are inherently out to be willfully ignorant when it comes to dissecting media thematically or discussing characterisation & the narrative, esp things where the outside factor of the consumer/creator changes things drastically if you do or do not know or experience something (and therefore would have no reason to be like, somehow maliciously interpreting something). i guess?

like i get it and i absolutely understand and also hate when people seem to go out of their way to say all the wrong things and stubbornly cling onto things that are WRONG, and confronting someone's opinion and it being SO wrong that you can comfortably think of a rebuttal is ultimately very satisfying and scratches a certain itch and can lead to a lot of thoughtful discussion despite being essentially a big "get a look at THIS guy". but i do think there is a vast difference between like, a) someone masquerading behind being knowing buzzwords and being able to say the right words in the right order, b) someone who isn't familiar with certain concepts and DOESN'T know the right words to say but is happily open to learning, and c) someone using the guise of talking about "media literacy" to be ignorant, bigoted or willfully misinterpreting something in a biased way who refuses to concede if confronted or goes out of their way to pick arguments. whilst the first two aren't malicious, both could turn out to be, just like the last category tends to be rejects of the first two who dug their heels in about it.

whilst there is a DIFFERENCE if someone was being say bigoted and prejudiced with hateful intent, not being "media literate" is not actually a moral failing as much as it is made out to be in moments of sweeping generalisation, and i think punishing people for not knowing how to hold thoughtful discussion is obviously cruel and dumb and unnecessarily othering. you don't want people to learn things out of a sense of shame or guilt. i know it's not the INTENT, and i don't like, interpret even 99% of discussion about this whole thing that way, but that doesn't change that discussing people very broadly who just Don't Know something is always going to leave the 1% of a LOT of harshness thrown against someone who doesn't deserve that. even if they're the stupidest twitterina known to man or something.

media literacy itself is not inherent and it is HARD, as much as people try to pretend it isn't. personally i am someone who has always and probably always WILL struggle to understand complex themes and often do need someone else to guide me towards thinking a certain way, thinking in these ways don't come naturally to me as much as i try my best to and i often think the "wrong" thing as my natural conclusion. and every Damn time that happens i see someone going "if you didn't realise this you're a fucking idiot" like woah man 😭 calm down. i dunno i feel like people just forget that this stuff is something you have to train like a muscle, esp things like vocabulary or a more complex academic way of speaking, and to some of us that is always going to be inherently inaccessible or it's going to take twice as long for us to grasp, for whatever reason. i just wish people were more fair is all.

[sureuncertainty]

i did it i ordered a commission of Nyx and Avery because life is too short and i’m broke anyway so may as well spend what little money i have on joy instead of rent

[sundaynightlive]

Soft (Steddie + Platonic Stobin)

Hey Steve?”

“Mmm?”

“Can I say something? And can you promise not to get mad at me?”

Steve looks over at her curiously. He can hardly imagine what she could say that would really upset him, or why she’d feel the need to preface anything she had on her mind with a question like that. Usually, she’s all gung-ho about pissing him off—it’s just how they are, constantly bickering like an old married couple. Steve really doesn’t blame anyone for thinking they’re together—they sure act like it, in a roundabout sort of way.

“Sure.”

“Say you promise.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, Rob, I’m not gonna—”

“Say you promise.”

That actually slightly unnerves him. He keeps his eyebrows raised, but relents.

“Alright, I promise.” She shifts in her seat, glances up at Eddie and the kids on stage, all chattering about something he doesn’t understand—attack rolls? Natural 20s? Owlbears?

“He makes you soft,” she says. Steve follows her gaze.

Oh. She noticed.

Steve tends to be oblivious, but he had noticed this, mostly because it was so… new. Irregular. Confusing. Around Eddie he just… softens. That’s about the best way to describe it—he’s glad Robin said so, because now he can put a name to the feeling. His brain seems to stop its mile-a-minute, mamma-bear rampage and just… quiet. He can’t put a finger on why—well he can, but it’s… a lot. He’s spent many a night staring up at the ceiling, trying to discern whether he really is romantically attracted to Eddie, or if he’s projecting. Maybe he’s been alone so long he just can’t tell anymore. Maybe his and Nancy’s little dance around each other is just confusing to the point of insanity.

But Robin noticed. And they should talk.

“Can we move back a few rows?”

“Sure.”

They stand and none of the kids nor Eddie take notice. Their voices are getting progressively louder, and Ed is perched in his chair like he could spring up on to the table at any moment, hands motioning excitedly in all sorts of ways. He talks with his hands, just like Nance and Robin.

“Are you mad?”

“No,” Steve says as they take seats in the mid-section, a little farther towards the back of the auditorium. He settles in, both to the seat and his own uncomfortability, not sure how to start the things he needs to say. He has questions, answers, concerns—but where to begin?

The beginning, probably.

“Do you remember that night the three of us were hanging and then Vickie came and picked you up and I told you I left right after?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t.”

He looks over to make eye-contact with her, and finds just Rob, gazing at him. A little curiosity, a little surprise at his blatant lie—but he hadn’t known how to talk to her about it. Or how to explain himself. He had thought it easier just to hide that he and Eddie could ever get along without her, because she felt like an essential intermediary. A reason that it isn’t what it actually is.

He can’t really explain himself. He doesn’t really get why he lied, either.

“Liar,” Rob accuses, but there’s no bite.

“I stayed,” Steve confirms, breaking their shared gaze to look back out toward Ed. He’s got this feeling in his guts like he’s about to get into trouble, like he’s broken one of his mom’s nice antiques and is about to lose his swimming pool privileges—

“We talked for the entire night. Until six in the morning. And then I went home, and I wanted to call him. And I… I’ve been having these thoughts like maybe I like him? And I don’t get it because—” Robin takes his hand “—I like girls, you know? I know I do, you know I do—”

“Can I interrupt? Just a two second thought.” Steve nods, “Some people like boys and girls, it’s called being bisexual. I just want you to have that in mind for the rest of this conversation.” Steve blinks at her. Nods slowly.

Maybe he should’ve gone to her sooner.

Not maybe. Definitely.

“Okay… right. So… I’m fucking stupid,” Steve breathes. Robin shakes her head vigorously, adding a second hand to the mix.

“No no no,” she insists quickly, “But I want you to—“

“No, I like him,” Steve realizes, a million—maybe a billion—thoughts and feelings invading him all at once. Fear, uncertainty, excitement, relief, anxiety—he can’t even latch on to one of those. He doesn't know how to feel or think or anything except for this stark, pervasive understanding— “Holy shit, Robin.”

“Steve, you’re getting ahead of yourself—”

“No, I’m not,” Steve shakes his head, kind of probably in shock, “No, I… I’ve been trying to figure this out for weeks. I should’ve just… Oh my god.”

He puts his free hand over his face, absolutely mortified. Not about liking Eddie, of course, but because he had stupidly never considered that liking girls didn’t automatically make him unable to like guys.

Jesus, he's an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” Robin says, and for what, Steve has no idea. She’s just fixed his whole problem—or at least, half the problem. Now he has a crush he has to deal with, and of course Nancy, but at least— “It’s not a bad thing, though. I know it’s a lot to deal with and if you need anything I’m here. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Rob, I’m fine,” Steve assures her, “Other than having a fucking pathetic crush on Eddie.”

Silence.

“So… you’re good with liking guys?” Steve looks up at her, sighing again for what feels like the hundredth time in this conversation.

“Yeah, that’s fine. It’s just I totally could’ve been doing something about it if I had just asked you sooner.”

Robin stares at him.

He stares back.

What, is he supposed to have some sort of breakdown? He’s had all sorts of thoughts about Billy and Tommy and Harrison Ford—of course he likes guys. Of course that’s not a “straight person” thing, he’s not stupid. But if he’d just applied a tiny bit of critical thinking—

“Are you serious right now?”

“Of course I’m serious,” Steve scoffs, “I could’ve already had, like, eight boyfriends if I had just thought about it. But I’m a fucking meathead.”

The unintentional hilarity of that statement doesn’t miss either of them, but now’s probably not the time.

She stares.

He stares back.

“You astound me, Harrington.”

“Do you think Eddie likes guys?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m—seriously, do you think he likes dudes?”

“I hate that you just said dudes.”

“Robin.”

“How many times has he suggested we watch Rocky Horror?”

“Enough for us to shorten the name.”

“There’s your answer,” she says, still sounding flabbergasted at his nonchalance, “Man, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I cried for forty-eight hours after I realized I liked girls.”

“Do you want me to cry?”

Robin grimaces, “You’re right, I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought.”

She shakes her head, clearly done with him. It’s uniquely comforting how quickly she can go from a supportive shoulder to a hateful best-friend. He admires that about her, the many facets of her personality that make her, her. He truly doesn’t know what he’d do without her. He wishes they had talked in high school, that he could’ve been someone else in those days, especially seeing where being the “coolest guy in town” has really gotten him.

Nowhere, that’s where.

“I love you,” he says. She’s still holding his hand, and she stays holding it.

“I love you, too.”

[trappedinafantasy37]

I was just thinking how when you tell Minthara you love her, she responds with "I know". I used to think that she just has an unshakable confidence that you love her and she doesn't really need you to tell her cause, well, she knows. But, why does she never say it back?

She will show you she loves you by doing things for you like one shotting your enemies and soloing all the bosses for you. She also will very quickly give you affection when you ask (and she's hella aggressive about it). She will support you in every decision you make (even if she thinks you're making a stupid ass decision). But, why won't she just tell you she loves you?

Cause if she says it out loud, you become a target. That's how it is for Menzoberranzan drow, especially nobles. A drow who admits they love another will quickly find their lover killed as a means to hurt them. That's why they have to use roundabout ways to admitting love to each other without actually saying it. Plus, the word "love" just doesn't really exist in Menzoberranzan and most drow who live there don't know the concept. She refuses to say she loves you cause she's afraid that someone will kill you just to hurt her. And a lot of people (and gods) want to hurt her.

The only time in the game that I can think of where you tell her you love her is the reunion party. A party full of people she feels do not like or trust her. A party that she feels is an excellent opportunity for a poisoning. Minthara is definitely a product of her environment. Now, I don't think she actually thinks your friends would hurt you. But, she kinda just kicks into Noble Party Mode. And Noble Party Mode says: don't eat the foot, don't trust the guests, and don't tell your lover you love them because someone will hear you and do something about it. It's not a surprise that she's very anxious the entire time and wants to leave. (Another example is mentioned in a previous post of mine here where in a Karlach origin, a non romanced Minthara will use very roundabout language to admit she's in love with Karlach but never uses the word love. You can see that here)

And then there's 'alurlssrin', which basically means an unshaken, deep, passionate love. This is a word that belongs to Eilistraee and should be foreign to her, a word that she would be punished socially (or killed) for even knowing if she was still in Menzoberranzan. That is what she feels for you. She also says that she hopes the bond you share with her will last as long as you two live.

She says this before facing Orin, someone she deeply fears. She is going down into the temple terrified that she will never leave. She literally pulls you aside to tell you she loves you in the best way that she can, cause she's afraid that Orin will kill her and she'll never be able to tell you otherwise.

To sum it up, Minthara does love you. She loves you a lot. She loves you deeper and harder than any of the other companions will and with a burning passion. She wants to go where you go, do what you do, see what you see. It never crosses her mind that she'll be doing something in which you're not right fucking there with her. She won't say she loves you, she will never say she loves you, and it's because she does love you. When she follows up with "I know", she's not being arrogant or downplaying what you feel. She's trying to keep you safe.

[livelaughlovesubs]

what do you think bsd men would be with a girl who is really hyperfeminine (ex loves sanrio, short skits and stuff) but still loves topping?

It literally does not matter what you like and how you look as long as you click. (Also tell me if you want any specific characters I didn’t mention)

I imagine them not minding it neither way, because you can wear a skirt or pants and still fuck them into oblivion. Though there are some that might get fooled by your appearance. It’s the first impression after all.

Dazai would probably tease you about it from time to time, “when I first saw you, I thought you were such a nice and innocent girl! Who knew you were into such freaky stuff?” He’d joke about it all the time, just to provoke you. Then he’d add, “but I love all woman, even if you are a beast in bed.” And wink at you. Now it’s your choice what you will do to him later, maybe you should punish that cheeky tongue of his.

Atsushi would probably be a bit embarrassed, that he needs a girl to take care of him, especially if you are shorter or look younger than him. You just have to assure him it’s alright to feel this way, and it’s alright to show emotions, cry, whatever. He gets embarrassed easily, or flustered, so it’s almost the same no matter what body Typ. You could be taller than him and hug him from behind, he’d blush already. Or as mentioned be shorter and nuzzle into his chest, and he’ll turn red. Also if you flirt with him, and he does catch on, then it really doesn’t matter if you look very feminine or not, he’d be nervous and fumbling with his thumbs the entire time.

Kunikida, I gotta say, he feels like the traditional reserved type of person, though secretly (unbeknownst to him) also a freak. Probably wrote in his book something about a nice and healthy relationship, a girly girl who is mature and gentle, and vanilla. Maybe someone who works part time so that they could take care of the household? He works full time after all. So consider him surprised when he found out about you, cuz your appearance made him believe you were very.. well, basic. (There is nothing wrong with basic) though to think you’d make him so such humiliating stuff.. you better not leave him now, not after seeing all those sides of him.

Sigma likes people who knows what they want and want to be, who can decide. Because he has a few problems with his identity. That’s why he really admires how you carry yourself, and know what you like. Fashion wise or others. You know what you like and you stand behind it, go for it girl. Also, I think sigma likes the high fashion, like a small hobby he has, so he’d love to go shopping with you and discuss outfit ideas. He probably enjoys a wide range of styles.

Fyodor also thought you would be a total sub, he just guessed. Turns out he guessed completely wrong, his mistake, can he make up by drinking a shot? Anyway, as long as you are useful, he doesn’t really care how you present yourself. The skills are what’s important. But to be honest, at first, he was trying to find a very traditional partner. It’s what he believes in. A good wife who cooks and takes care of the house, and obeys. That’s what he was looking for, if he wanted a relationship in the first place. It’s what’s written in the bible, he wanted to follow it. After spending a night with you, he had to think about it again. It felt too good to give up, and honestly, just because you top or dom doesn’t mean you won’t fulfil the requirements, no? Even if you didn’t, well, he was god’s chosen one he can make a special case just for you.

Nikolai would ask you to dress up as a clown with him. If you refuse, he’ll keep asking. So yea, he doesn’t really care what you like or look, he will make you into clowns and magic shows. It’s a part of getting closer to him, there is no roundabout. (Rip those who have a phobia against clowns, but if you do why would you like Nikolai in the first place) jokes aside, I’m sure he won’t really force you into liking all that. Probably…

Chuuya would find it pretty practical, cuz similar to sigma, you know what you like or who you are so you are easy to read. He doesn’t need to think that long to guess what kind of stuff you’d like, it’s practical. But he’ll still take ages to find the *perfect* present for you. Most of the time he’ll buy more than one, if you don’t like it throw it away. If you are even shorter than him, it’d boost his ego, cuz, yea, short people struggles. Though that ego would be gone after you show him who’s top, and he’d be pouting for a while. He thought he could finally stand over someone! He was taller but somehow he didn’t feel like he actually was! It’s not a negative feeling though, not at all. And you being girly didn’t matter, you look gorgeous anyway. Just say the word and he will silence anyone who thinks otherwise.

[laundrybiscuits]

“I need your help to find Robin a girlfriend,” says Steve.

Eddie shuts the door in his face.

“You know I’m not gonna just leave, man!” Steve hollers through the door. “Come on, let me in, we gotta, like—strategize.”

“No!” Eddie yells back, loud as he can. “Fuck off!”

Gratifyingly, he hears Steve stumble a little. It’s not a thick door, and Steve must’ve been right up next to it.

“Don’t you want Robin to be happy?” says Steve, at a much more normal volume. “She thinks you guys are pretty close, you know.”

Now that’s just dirty pool. Sure, it turns out he and Robin get along pretty well; sure, they’ve been thick as thieves ever since Robin inquired in a rambling roundabout way if certain rumors were true, and Eddie allowed as to how they might be. So what? Not like it means Eddie has to let himself be suckered into whatever hare-brained scheme Harrington’s cooked up now.

He tells himself all of this, then sighs and opens the door anyway. 

“Okay, Harrington, come in and explain so I can tell you why this is a bad idea in excruciating detail.”

Steve smirks all smug and insufferable, and pushes past Eddie to sprawl on the couch.

“So, you know how the Vickie thing ended, right?”

Eddie shrugs. He kind of does, but he’s pretty sure he missed some things. He’s never gotten the full run-down or anything like that, he’s just rubbed Robin’s back as she got spectacularly drunk about it and puked in a bush.

“Anyway, it’s been like three months, and Robin’s still moping. She’s gotta put herself out there again, like getting back on a horse.”

“Bet she loved you telling her that,” says Eddie.

“Exactly, so, we should team up and do some of the legwork before I bring it up again. Set her up for success. I’ve got the charm, and you’ve got…” Steve gestures vaguely in Eddie’s general direction.

“A killer music collection? Impeccable personal style? Terrible taste in friends?”

“No, man, you’re—I mean, you’re gay, right?” Steve looks suddenly uncertain. It’s not like it’s a secret, obviously, but they haven’t talked about it in so many words before. 

“Yeah, more or less,” says Eddie. It’s not like he’s never ever seen the appeal of any woman, but—yeah, more or less. Close enough for government work. 

Steve claps his hands together decisively, like some kind of dorky Little League coach. “Great! Great, that’s perfect. So I can help Robin with the whole flirting-with-girls thing, and you can handle the gay stuff.”

Eddie bats his eyelashes and grins like the compulsively self-sabotaging dumbass he is. “Well, usually I make pretty boys buy me a drink before I handle any of their gay stuff.”

Steve Harrington, the little shit, isn’t phased at all. “You saying I’m not pretty enough for you, Eddie?” he drawls, leaning back and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. 

Eddie wonders if he can get away with lying down on the floor for a minute to recover. He probably can’t, so he just takes the psychic damage and swerves back to his main point.

“Look, Harrington, I think we should just let Buck find her own way. Be free, spread her wings, et cetera.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, uh-huh. If we do that, she’s gonna turn into some kind of weird hermit and never talk to another girl in her life. We’re on her team, right? We gotta get her confidence up so she can ride into the sunset with the babe of her dreams.” 

Eddie drags his hands down his face, wishing desperately that Steve were just a tiny bit less…whatever this is, so his goddamn heart could maybe catch a break. 

“I could really use a hand here, Eddie,” Steve says. He frowns a little, pressing his lips together and glancing away. “I know there’s stuff I don’t…I just don’t want to screw this up for Robin, okay? She deserves to be happy, but I need you to make sure I don’t do anything too dumb.”

“Think that one might be a lost cause,” says Eddie, but he collapses onto the couch with a resigned sigh. “Just—talk me through what you’ve got, okay?”

Steve lights up, throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and shaking him a little, pulling him tight against Steve’s side. “Yes! Okay! Let’s do this!”

This is going to be a test of fortitude, but at least Eddie’s pretty sure it’ll all be over soon. How long can it possibly take to find a girlfriend for Robin Buckley?

[sim0nril3y]

Driving Worries

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon gets a first hand experience at your driving and is less than impressed Note: Set in 2014 Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), teasing, canon-typical swearing, very bad driving, very British driving.

Simon had begrudgingly agreed to joining you at a drink out over your friend’s house for the evening. In your own words it was one of your nicer friends, which made him a little worried about the rest of your friends. Regardless, if it would make you happy then Simon would join. Plus, you’d offered to drive so at least he could sit back and relax on the journey, or at least that was what he had thought…

The beginning of the journey was harrowing. There were multiple times that Simon had to remind you the speed limit, wave his hand apologetically to other vehicles you had pulled out on. All this whilst you happily sat beside him, either chatting away or humming along to the music. His sunshine girl. Fuck, she was gonna kill them both.

The way that Simon gripped at the handle above him as you drove a little too close to a parked car. His eyes flickered over as you continued to hum along happily to the radio seemingly unaware that you’d almost written-off your car along with the poor idiot who’d parked on the curb. “Turn this down a bit…” His fingers diligently rolled the sound down on your stereo as you frowned in his direction. “Eyes on the road.” He commanded, now that the radio was low, he could hear the gears churning, it made him visibly wince, allowing for it to continue thinking that maybe you might right the error before needing to be told, but it didn’t happen. “Think you’re in the wrong gear, love…” “Oh yeah…” You laughed with ease, changing the gear with a heavy sound.

As they approached a busy roundabout Simon wondered if he should just stare straight ahead and pray for the best, but the moment he glanced to his right and saw you about to pull out into two cars he had to stop it. Yanking up the hand break furiously you looked at him suddenly. “Who the fuck let you pass your test? Are you having a laugh? You could have killed us both.”

“What are you talking about?” Taking your foot off the clutch without taking it out of gear lead it to stall and you huffed. “Bloody hell. Look what you’ve made me do now…” “Good. Fuckin’ hell. Swap with me. Now.” He commanded in a rough voice. Unplugging his seat belt Simon rounded the car, angrily glaring at anyone backed-up behind them who dared to think about honking. You climbed over the centre console and took the passenger seat. “Kid, you fuckin’ terrify me…” Simon took a moment to roll back the seat from where it was uncomfortably close to the steering wheel.

You had the gall to laugh, pinching your brows together and saying. “I have no idea what I did wrong.” His hands gripped at the steering wheel and looked over to you for a second. “That is the most worrying thing…” A second later pulling out safely onto the roundabout and continuing the journey. “I always thought it would be going to war that would kill me, but I think it might actually be your driving that does it.”

Leaning over she pushed his shoulder gently. “Don’t say that.” She commanded softly, clearly the idea of him not being around was something she certainly wasn’t comfortable joking about. “Sorry.” He huffed, reaching over and squeezing her knee. “You scared me.” You scoffed and shook your head. “I’m serious. You fuckin’ really scared me. I can cope with being in danger, but not… not you.” He said, squeezing your knee again, feeling terror bubbling at the base of his spine.

The night with your friend and her partner hadn’t been as bad as Simon had been expecting, it was a nice evening so you’d had a little BBQ whilst sat in their back garden. They both seemed nice enough and Simon was just happy to get a little insight into your life outside of him.

A few paces in front of him you approached your call, pulling your keys from your purse and said. “I’ll drive-” In a second Simon snatched then from your hands and wrapped his arm around your waist to yank you firmly back against his warm body. “Absolutely fuckin’ not.” You laughed as he walked you forward pressed you against the car. “I value my life, but more important I value your life.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your face. “Get in.” He smacked your rear as he moved to the other side of the car.

Masterlist | Ask | 09-09-2023

[arminsumi]

♡ 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : you and Suguru were too confused to realize that you liked each other back then, and now look at you two; short-lived romances litter your lives and drunk confessions dissolve the next day. It's all a mess. Add to that the fact that Suguru broke you and Satoru up behind the scenes; it's a drama written by the number one drama queens; Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : fem reader / Geto Suguru / Gojo Satoru / college au

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : 🔞 Minors do not interact / 18+ / smut, plot, angst, miscommunication, mutual pining, breakups, Drama (with a capital D), alcohol/drunkenness, drunk s*x, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, dirty talk

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i found a drunk!suguru confession post in my drafts and rolled with it 🙈

playing it off. playing it cool. he's suguru geto. everyone likes him and he likes pretending like he's oblivious to that, but it makes his ego swell.

you think; oh every girl in my friend group likes him so why should i bother? he's going to overlook me. he's overlooking me right now.

he thinks; oh she's not into me. she must think she's too pretty for me. if i try to lure her in will she think i'm showing off? fuck it i don't care i'm showing off to her.

you think; oh he's a show-off but he does it so well. why do i have to like the ones who don't like me back?

he thinks; oh is she playing blind? or did she not see me at all. what do i have to do? make her jealous?

you think; oh he's got a girlfriend now? of course he does. yeah, of course he does... i feel sick.

he thinks; why is she looking at me so bitterly? am i fucking things up? maybe she used to like me back then.

you think; if he's dating someone, then i'm dating someone, too. i can't be alone and without him. this was manageable when he was single, not now.

*****

suguru geto comes up to you in the corridor with a confrontational tone of voice;

"why the fuck are you sleeping with my best friend?"

and he thinks you have some audacity to just shrug in response. he presses, but you avoid answering until he locks in on you in the corner of a classroom now, moving out of the corridor for some privacy. yes, much needed privacy.

"i'm gonna ask you again, nicely—"

"it's not really your business. i mean, i don't pry into your life, do i?"

your reply slaps him across the face and he just stays silent, then storms off.

*****

gojo satoru broke up with you a week after dating. figures. he was a playboy after all, and you knew it, so why are you crying?

"really, get it together. there is more to life than this nonsense. come on, get yourself out there again. buy yourself an expensive red dress. get your nails and hair and makeup done. and go strutting like the world is yours."

"... thanks mom." you reply in a sarcastic gurgle, eyes crusty from crying.

shoko is rubbing your feet, you're watching a soapie together because she claims it makes her feel better after dreadfully long shifts at the hospital.

"you know, i warned you about satoru, didn't i?"

"... yes, you did." you hang your head.

"why'd you chase after satoru then?" shoko asked seriously.

"dick."

"... be serious."

"... i really like suguru."

"oh. well. the plot thickens." shoko looks at the tv, then at you. "trying to go the roundabout way to meet him?"

"yeah. he's got a girl now, you know."

"... are you sure?" shoko looks at you suspiciously, "it sounds like you haven't stalked his socials in a hot minute..."

"what, why?" you perk your ears up like a bunny.

"uh, 'cause like... his "girl" just deleted all the pictures of him and her together and he did the same. sooo..."

*****

you do buy yourself a good, wine-red dress and although you selected it purely because you daydreamed of suguru geto romantically lifting it off of you, that never happened that night because everything went wrong and ended in a drunk mess.

avoiding satoru was not easy when you looked so good and he was so horny and lonely, so you let him heatedly mark you up with his lips in the bathroom and put his hands all over you. the way he squeezed and massaged your body made you think for a split second that he really did like you. and the way he kissed you? he kissed you like a romantic — yeah, horny. of course horny. but a romantic over that.

"... why do you look so good tonight..." he said, as if it was unfair.

"uh-huh." you reply. "that's thirty minutes up, playboy."

"daaamn i'm not a playboy, stop calling me that." satoru groaned, and like a sexy playboy.

"you sound like one every time you open your mouth."

"then silence me." he replied with a wink.

"... i'm going to go find shoko."

he made a whiny noise.

"but—"

"—no, satoru."

"okay."

satoru looked like he was holding back a lot, but you couldn't understand what he was holding back. did he just want sex? was that it? no, not with that look in his eyes. he didn't look at you like a wolf, he looked at you like the breakup was a robbery for him, and you were stolen.

stolen by who? who knows. i don't know. do you know? hm. maybe you can guess.

*****

i hate drinking, suguru thinks as he stumbles around the party bleary-eyed and swaying, leaning, into any wall that could care to hug him right now.

i hate it here, too.

he looks disgustedly at everyone, then goes into the quiet backyard where there's no life but the crickets in the grass.

why can't she like me as much as i like her?

he's mean and drunk. he's hurt.

that's why when the two of you encounter each other, an argument froths up.

"damn what's your problem tonight?" you asked after he made some passive aggressive comment.

"you."

"me? the fuck did i do?" you look at him.

"you ruined my life..." he slurs romantically.

"... what?"

he kisses you so softly. you tense up, far too confused to enjoy it even though his kiss is something you've wanted for a while now.

when he pulls back and sees your facial expression, he feels guilty.

did they lie? it seems like i'm not as good of a kisser as they said.

"... i love you." he says against your face.

"you're drunk."

"no, i'm in love." he says drunkenly.

"let's get you sober..."

"i mean it!"

"then say it when you're sober. i think you think you love me right now, but tomorrow you won't make eye contact with me. in fact, i know you'll pretend this never happened."

he sniffles, starting to cry.

"shit, don't cry. i don't know what to do if you cry."

"... just hold me... i'm cold." he says.

it's summer, but i'm cold and lonely and in need a warm touch.

you hold him.

for a while, he just stays there with his head on your upper chest. his nose gets stuffy as he keeps crying. unable to tell whether it's the alcohol or you that's making him cry right now.

"can i come home with you?" he asks.

and he asks it in such a soft, pathetic voice that you can't say no.

"alright. but no funny business..."

"yeah, of course."

i'm too drunk and sad, even if you'd want that i couldn't.

so you take the train home with him at 2 AM. the train handles sway overhead. there's a lot of empty seats. the lighting is stark. you're cuddled together like awkward lovers after an argument. suguru almost falls asleep from your body warmth.

*****

you herd a drunk suguru into your bedroom and turn the lights on.

"lay down." you tell him. "i'll get you water."

"i love you."

"okay." you reply flippantly, but his words struck you and they'd settle in your mind for days to come.

"just 'okay'?" he lifts his head sadly from the pillow.

"i don't know what to do with your "i love you". it's just too much right now. you've given me mixed signals for months and now you hit me with this?" you shake your head at him.

he pouts to himself, still incredibly drunk. all he can really hear and feel and need is you.

"... cuddles?" he asks.

"okay..."

so you lay with him and he's so overjoyed he blatantly smiles about it, soaking up your warmth and the softness of the bed. your bed. he's in your bed, cuddling you, just like he knew he would one day. even if it's under a strange circumstance. even if everything was confusing and messed up, in your bed everything made sense.

but you're laying there wondering, is he going to pretend this never happened once he's sober tomorrow? is he going to pretend the two of you didn't lay together, talking about your lives in hushed voices, sharing childhood memories with laughter — is all of this going to dissolve the next day just like the alcohol dissolves from him?

you don't know.

suguru's needy squeezing and soft breathing in your ear make you feel loved, even if it's just drunken love. and somewhere in the cave of his mind, he's hoping that by the morning his courage won't have evaporated and he won't become a coward and damn just love you.

"kiss me." he mumbles against your cheek.

"what, right now?"

"of course right now."

you don't know where his sudden need to kiss came from, but you sympathize with the drunkard — they need a kiss to warm up and feel alright. but you also shake, just a little, because this is what you want, too.

one kiss doesn't satisfy him, he gets greedy. and greedier after each kiss, until his tongue is slithering into your mouth and he's leaning on you with his weight, pressing a boner into your lower half.

"suguru... don't. you're gonna regret it in the morning, probably."

"... how could i regret you?"

the shift in his voice told you that some of the alcohol had worn off, albeit not too much.

his fingertips press into your skin and it sends him to heaven. you're sighing under his touch, trying to practice self-restraint, because this drama keeps getting more dramatic and you didn't want to contribute to it more by fucking with the best friend of the guy you dated — er, whom you dated to get back at said guy for dating someone else.

suguru kisses your neck tenderly, and that's when you snap and give in completely.

"... i want you."

"then have me."

******

a shuddery moan escapes suguru when he slides inside you. he spreads your legs a little wider, snuggling his waist between them like he's found his home.

"kinda romantic, aren't you?" you tease. "i could practically see your pupils dilating there."

he hums at the sensation of your wet walls gripping him.

"yeah, romantic — i'm sure you noticed that about satoru, too, huh?"

"someone's jealous..."

he bottoms out in you so slowly that it's easier to take. he's not unbearably big, not unbearably thick, just perfectly filling you.

"... of course i'm jealous, why'd you think i told him to break up with you."

"huh?"

you don't have time to question this crazy revelation because he's driving into you back and forth hard all of a sudden, knocking you into a near-orgasm with how perfectly he angles into your g-spot.

"fuck, baby!" he whines into your shoulder, "you feel so good!"

"s-suguru..."

"yeah, say my name." he commands breathlessly, "say it over and over until i cum."

he sounds nearly pathetic, like he hasn't pleasured his cock in forever. he's nearly drooling. just going crazy for you but at the same time trying to maintain his cool "i'm geto suguru" — which slips completely when he cums prematurely.

"i love you, oh my god i love you so fucking much, will you have my baby?"

"y—y–yeah! i'll — fuck! — i'll have your baby, suguru!" you reply.

"oh, good girl." he moans, "get pregnant for me."

he's so whipped by your reply that even though his cock is overstimulated and sensitive from cumming, he still drives into you until you reach your orgasm. he even snuggles his fingers into your clit and rubs it frantically, practically forcing your orgasm to arrive. he just loves to see it wrack your body and make you curl in.

"fuck... you're so beautiful." he says as he watches you cum all over his cock.

"s—suguru!" you pant, totally incoherent for a few seconds because of how strong your orgasm came over you.

he's slowly sliding his softening cock in and out, until he slides it out your stretched-out hole and you can hear him slide out — practically hear how thick his cum is as it dribbles out of you.

"creampies are pretty romantic, huh?" he jokes, smirking down at you as you pant.

"... you're crazy."

"i'm crazy for you."

"... me too."

he cuddles you for the rest of the night as if that's all he ever needed to hear. and what consequences would come for fucking you when he knew satoru genuinely likes you?

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 7 all chapters

I knew the pleasure of vexing and soothing him by turns; it was one I chiefly delighted in.

–Jane on Mr. Rochester, Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

-It's no real mystery, why you dig out your beloved old copy of Jane Eyre. From the early 1900s, it had seen better days when you’d scored it in the local used book store, many years ago. You’d been a teenager then—and those days were long behind you. It seems you never outgrew your liking of a dark and broody anti-hero.

It’s safer to read about it though, than pursue the real thing.

Lately every time Mr. Wick comes into the shop you feel slightly agitated, as though you don’t quite fit into your own skin. You remember the sensation of his fingertips on yours, like a burn.

Mr. Wick sees you reading your tattered novel on your break, but doesn’t comment. You’ve seen him with old classics in hand and reckon he must be something of an aficionado.  

You put it away in your shoulder bag in the back after the break.

The next day, it’s gone.

You know you left it in your bag. Where the fuck could it have gone? Why would someone fucking steal it?

A couple of weeks later, it reappears on the counter by the register you favor.

You hardly recognize it at first, for it has received an encompassing makeover. It has new leather covers with gorgeous embossed gold lettering, and marbled end papers, and the tattered thread of the binding repaired. There are gilded arabesques on the spine and delicately drawn climbing flowers on the cover. You wouldn’t have even thought it the same book, if not for the intricately printed title page unique to your edition, with an old pencil mark in the corner you recognize.

Such a restoration would have cost a fortune.

You knew, because you’d looked into it.  

Further compounding the mystery, there is a beautiful jacquard embroidered ribbon bookmark inside. It’s on the page where Rochester has sat Jane down in the arbor, and is telling her that she has rejuvenated him from his unhappy existence without actually admitting anything, asking in the most roundabout way possible if it would be so very bad to take a second wife who would make him a new man, while his first is still living, the big idiot.

“Is the wandering and sinful, but now re-seeking and repentant, man justified in daring the world’s opinion, in order to attach to him for ever this gentle, gracious, genial stranger, thereby securing his own peace of mind and regeneration of life?”

Jane tells him, of course, that a man shouldn’t base his redemption on another person, but within himself. You are not sure you would have had the strength to speak so frankly to a man you secretly loved.

Well, maybe you would.

You are utterly mystified by the whole thing, to say the least.

But later, you are browsing the local book store, and the owner is reading Anna Karenina in what looks like freshly bound leather. The style looks familiar.

“Did you have that restored?” you ask, feeling like Nancy Drew hot on the trail of a fresh lead.

“Yeah, that new guy in town, John Wick did it for me. He says he’s just a hobbyist, but he does amazing work. Usually you have to send off to Florence for quality like this, seriously. It’s a dying art.”

Darren lets you look at the book, and you are impressed by the craftsmanship.

The spine decoration matches yours. There is a plate in the back that proclaims: Bound by John Wick.

The sneak.

You are touched to the tips of your toes, your heart filled with butterflies. Was the bookmark purposely left on that page, or just a random placement?

You hardly dare hope, and tell yourself it’s an invention of your own fancy. The gift of the book is magnificent enough. No need to further muddle things with secret communications that aren’t really there.

The next day you approach Mr. Wick’s table with hands on your hips, affecting annoyance. “You stole my book.”

He actually has the grace to look sheepish about it, casting those lovely dark eyes downwards.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks. I really love it.” It’s the understatement of the century.

He looks up through his hair, the surprised sparkle in his eyes taking your breath away. Suddenly, he looks ten years younger.  

“Yeah?”

The corners of your mouth twitch. This man speaks like he’s paying five cents per word, you swear. “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me you bind books?”

He just shrugs, and you cannot help but laugh.

“I’ve never owned anything so fine. Thank you, truly.”

 He nods again, and you sense that you’re maybe making him uncomfortable with your gratitude. You suspect it’s not why he did it at all.

“Will you show me sometime? How you do it?”

There is a flash of something dark in his eyes before he turns his attention back down to his own book. It feels like dismissal, but you have no idea what he’s hiding underneath it all.

Still waters run deep.

“Anytime you want,” he offers as you turn to go.  

You smile at him over your shoulder as you go back to your station, a secret lightness fluttering in your heart. On your break you flip through your refurbished book once more, taking even more pleasure in it knowing that John poured over every detail of it. You don’t know much about bookbinding or leather work, but you suspect he freehanded the little flowers on the front, and that moves you to your toes.

You flip to one of your favorite scenes because you find it so funny, when Jane puts out the fire that nearly burned Rochester up in his sleep, because undoubtedly he’d drank too much earlier to easily rouse, the lovesick scoundrel. Afterwards he doesn’t want her to leave but can’t outright keep her in his room without behaving an absolute blackguard.

“Strange energy was in his voice, strange fire in his look.”

You cannot help but glance up at your tall dark bookworm in the corner, an aching warmth spreading in your heart for the sight of his furrowed brow, his concentration (you think) focused on the tome in his hands.

You know you are a ridiculous thing.

[anistarrose]

The thing about the Heart Attack segment in Wonderland is that they put so much aromantic subtext in it. They accidentally put SO much aromantic subtext in it, on behalf of multiple characters, and I'm thinking about it constantly. Let me tell you all about it.

Magnus is dropped into a dating game and literally leads with "I cannot stress enough how uninterested I am in this." Now, it's perfectly valid to read this as due to him waiting for Julia, or just him being plain old uncomfortable with having his love life put in the spotlight. However! I cannot stress enough the exchange that happens just a minute or two after that line:

Magnus (describing his ideal date): ... and we don't see each other again, ‘cause I'm really not interested in dating. Audience: [exaggerated] Oooooh! (cheers) Griffin: The silhouette is like, fanning itself. Lydia: Playing hard to get, huh? It seems like our contestant is into that.

And I just have to say: unfortunately, this is one of the most aromantic fucking experiences I've seen represented in fiction in my life. I mean — saying you're not interested in romance, then having those words twisted on you, like they're some secret coded way of saying that you are interested in romance? Not having a single way to express your disinterest that'll actually be believed? That's some aro shit right there. God. Fuck.

As an aside, it's enough to really tell that Heart Attack is not designed to be a reprieve from the pain, even though it's the "good outcome" of Trust or Forsake. It's designed to be uncomfortable. To funnel suffering to Edward and Lydia, just like all the other games do. (More on that later, in fact.) But in summary:

Magnus is a character who can be read as uncomfortable with romance for either aro-spec reasons or unrelated reasons. But in either case, his discomfort attracts reactions that reek of amatonormativity — and therefore, resonate with aromantic experiences. (Psst, I did recently write a gray-aro Magnus fic!)

Two more analyses below the cut (and only one of them is for another Horny Boy):

Obviously the next character I need to talk about is Merle. I've found aroallo readings of his character to be compelling for a long time (having sex with plants so you don't have to worry about romantic commitment, am I right?), but the way he describes his "ideal date" is another factor:

Merle: I volunteer to drive her vehicle, and tell her it's filthy, and so we go through the uh- drive through vehicle wash and she pays for that too. Um, and then I take her to have dinner with my family, and- Magnus: Wait, like your wife and stuff? Merle: She meets my ex-wife.

Merle's probably exaggerating as a joke, continuing on about both him and his partner being miserable, but I think the fact that Merle's mind goes here is genuinely drawing from a lot of poor romantic experiences in the past. He didn't get a choice about being on Heart Attack, and his marriage with Hecuba was similarly "arranged".

It's also worth noting that at this point in time, Merle is putting in the work to be part of Mavis and Mookie's lives again, but is not interested in doing the same for Hecuba — he instead just asks Mavis how Hecuba's doing. That said, given that Magnus is the one to put the focus on Merle's ex-wife, I think it's fair to read the "family" comment as Merle actually expressing that he'd rather spend time with his kids than give any special romantic attention to his date. Moving on to the rest of the "joke":

Merle: She's having a miserable time and she's really mad, she can't wait to get outta there. I take her back to her house, and so I lean up against the door jam and say, 'Sure you don't want me to come in for a few minutes?' and she slams the door in my face.

It's possible Merle just has a more roundabout, self-deprecating way of expressing a similar thing to what Magnus did: Merle just isn't interested in dating. To me, the last line implies he might not say no to sex, if offered — but overall, it reads as if Merle is putting minimal effort in because he's looking for an excuse to get out of this relationship anyway.

It's also possible that Merle's "rejection" of a suitor being so disguised as humor could point to him still coming to terms with his disinterest in dating. Particularly, in comparison to Magnus, who is so vocal and unashamed about it, while Merle might still be figuring this all out.

(Honestly, the self-deprecation Merle turns to here is actually kind of sad, when viewed in that light — he already lets himself be the butt of jokes so often, and now he feels like the way romance doesn't click for him has to be a joke, too? Oof. Someone give him a hug and tell him he's not broken this instant!) But regardless:

Merle views dates, and perhaps romance in general, as things that will inevitably turn disastrous for him and any party involved with him, and he would rather spend time with his children than repairing a relationship with an ex, or cultivating a relationship with a new partner. This is not an experience exclusive to the aro-spec umbrella, but you can't say that an aromantic reading of his character doesn't fit him like a gardening glove...

...which he wears while fucking his plants. Because plants don't demand emotional intimacy, nor take too much time away from the platonic relationships that matter more to him. And you know what? He's fucking valid for that! Fly your flag, nasty grandpa!

But moving on: I promised you aromantic analysis of characters outside of our protagonists, and henceforth, that analysis I will provide. And not just because I admittedly see Taako as the token alloromantic (though clearly an aro ally; if he hadn't chosen Forsake we wouldn't have gotten all this incredible characterization!)

I digress. So let's go on to addressing the lich twins in the room: Edward and Lydia.

Remember my argument earlier that Heart Attack serves the purpose of collecting suffering just like the rest of Wonderland does? How it's just a subtler way of making Wonderland's victims fundamentally uncomfortable?

...Using, of all things, romance?

How the vogue twins, for whatever reason, felt inspired to make people uncomfortable with matchmaking and adoration? How, some way or another, they noticed how much potential romance had to induce suffering? Being pressured into a relationship, being told that no matter how firmly you say you're uninterested, you're not really uninterested?

...Relatedly, I have always gotten the sense that Edward and Lydia projected relentlessly onto their victims.

Edward: This resolve, this desire to do whatever it takes no matter the cost to save yourselves — do you know who you three remind me of? Magnus: No? Merle: Who? Edward: Us!

I'm even going to go a step further and say that on top of projection, they want their victims to go through things they went through. Swallowing the guilt of having fucked someone else over to survive, of course — that's basically self-admitted. But possibly also... the feeling of not being able to get back what you lost (Keats). The feeling of being able to heal (Keats).

So, where does that leave Heart Attack?

Lydia: It was the three of us, surviving against all odds. The world against us.

Their family of three was (is) indescribably important to them. I'm not necessarily saying that societal expectations of romance, especially of romance as a priority above that of family, left a bad taste in their mouths — if not downright contributing to their trauma — but, okay, I wrote the rest of this post and now that I'm back, I can no longer deny it. I'm definitely, absolutely saying that.

At the time of the podcast, we know Edward and Lydia's own relationship is heavily strained. Until the end, they are lying to themselves and to each other about the fact that they continue to be emotionally and magically reliant on each other. After all, Lydia wouldn't say "I guess we really needed each other after all" in her dying moments with such surprise otherwise.

This is the second reason that I... well, I wouldn't quite call it a "theory," but I find it most impactful to read Edward and Lydia as characters for whom the concept of Love has baggage. And always has, from their origins as youth in a tough spot in an already amatonormative world.

Maybe the constant societal devaluing of platonic, familial bonds left them with serious emotional scars. Maybe the constant conflation of Love and morality just weighed on them and weighed on them and weighed on them until they decided: well, we don't love the way people expect us to, so we might as well give up on being the good people they expect us to be. We might as well embrace this new fuel of suffering.

...And you know, I hope this gets across what I mean when I always say I headcanon villains as aromantic to make them more sympathetic.

Edward and Lydia, textually, are already tragic villains. As twins and liches, they're also textually foil characters to several of the Seven Birds. But I also like to think that they have a lot in common with Magnus and Merle, and the possibility that tugs at my heartstrings the most is the possibility of them all falling under the aromantic umbrella.

[jjunieworld]

24. the beating heart ⸝ ˚⋆

↳ half written, half texts. word count: 4.9k

— SOOBIN’S POV —

soobin sighed deeply as he got into his car.

what more could sakura have? what more could she do to ruin his life and hurt y/n even more than she already is? soobin banged his hand off his steering wheel, causing the horn to honk loudly, scaring a group of people walking by. he pulled out of the parking lot and made his way to sakura’s place.

sakura’s place was different in the daylight and without all of the people and security guards crowding it. he pulled up to the gate and before he could even get out to press the button, it automatically opened. he pulled through and parked his car in the roundabout driveway.

soobin slammed his door shut and walked up to the door. he knocked three times and waited.

if there was something else out there that could hurt y/n, he needed to destroy it while he was here. he’s already done enough to her. she doesn’t need more added on to it.

the door flung open and he was greeted with a smiling sakura, ushering him in. she took him to the fourth floor and into her room, urging him to sit on the bed and wait.

“get to the fucking point, sakura. what else do you have?” soobin spat out angrily as he stood near the door. sakura look back at him and sighed, rolling her eyes slightly.

“remember when we use to be friends?” she replied.

“no, i don’t.”

she came up to him and rested her hands on his bicep. “binnie, how many times do i have to say this. it was for your own good! you deserve to be with someone who’s at the same standards as you! not that poor wannabe who can’t tell the difference between a designer purse and a knockoff from the thrift store.” soobin moved her hands off of him.

sakura inhaled sharply and turned to sit on her bed. “you must want me to post the video of her finding out about the bet for everyone to see. imagine how fun it will be for everyone to get another laugh at it.” soobin’s heart dropped. there’s no way a video exists of that, right?

“poor little y/n, couldn’t keep up with the big shots and went tumbling. how sad.” sakura continued, a pout on her lips. it took everything in soobin not to lunge at her.

a thought of realization crossed soobin’s mind. sakura was lying. if she had a video of that night, it would’ve already been posted.

“you’re lying,” soobin firmly stated. the smug smirk on her face faltered briefly, but long enough for soobin to notice. it was his turn for a smirk to cross his face.

“if there was a video, you would’ve posted it already. you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. in your own words, ‘you like putting people in their place.’” anger flashed across sakura’s features as she swiftly stood to her feet. “what am i really doing here, sakura. and cut the shit. looking at you right now is pissing me off more and more by the second. what is your issue with y/n?”

the anger then turned into a sickly sweet smile. “you understand me so well, binnie.” she came up to soobin and wrapped her arms around him. or as well as she could since his arms were crossed against his chest.

“everything i do, i do for you! can’t you see? i did all of this so we could finally be together. we belong together. we always have.” she cupped his face with her hands. “i love you, soobin.”

she reached to pressed a kiss to his lips but soobin harshly pushed her off of him. sakura fell to the ground, landing hard on her butt. a hurt expression paints her features as she stares up at him.

anger buries soobin as he digs his fingernails in the palms of his hands. “you’re fucking delusional if you ever thought there would ever be a world in which i love you, let alone fucking like you. we’re done, sakura. don’t ever contact me again.” soobin stares her down to make sure she finally gets the message.

furious, sakura slowly rises to her feet, keeping eye contact with soobin. “you will regret this.” soobin raises an eyebrow, “will i? i’ve already done the thing i regret the most. this is nothing. once i leave here, i won’t even give you a second thought.”

he could tell his words cut her deep as the furious expression fell flat. all that there was left was pain. soobin didn’t care, it serves her right. he turned to leave and felt as she ran up to him, clinging onto his side.

“she will never be able to love you like i do! she’ll never understand you and know you like i do!” sakura frantically said. tears were streaming down her face, messing up her makeup. “we’re a match made in heaven, and you know it! you’re mine, and i’m yours.”

soobin pushed her off of him again, causing her to stumble backwards. “you’ve never known or understood me at all. can’t you see? you mean nothing to me. and y/n…? she means everything.”

soobin left her there, clinging to the edge of her dresser, sobbing loudly. he made his way outside to his car and drove off. all he desperately wanted to do was see y/n. to wrap his arms around her and hold her close to him.

soobin needed to figure out some way to show y/n how much he was genuinely sorry. how much that video didn’t actually reflect who he is. soobin needed to show y/n how much he truly and deeply loved her.

an idea crossed his mind. he knew just the thing.

it’s been days since your birthday. days since your heart was ripped out of your chest and stomped on. days since you’ve last seen soobin. and it didn’t hurt any less. if anything, it hurt more.

not that you’ve been helping yourself out. all you’ve been doing was looking at old photos and videos, rotting away in your bed in either his sweater or his hoodie. today was the sweater, the one he gave you on your first date. it didn’t smell like him anymore since you’ve washed it, but the fact that it was still his gave you comfort.

you got up from your bed. enough was enough, you at least needed some fresh air. deciding to take a walk, you slip on some actual clothes, deciding to keep his sweater on.

as you made your way out of the dorms, you didn’t really have an idea on where to walk to. maybe around the corner and back? that sounded good. you inhaled the crisp air deeply. the wind flowing over your skin.

you can tell soobin has been giving you space. the way he lingers when he sees you, words on the tip of his tongue. him leaving classes later than usual so you’re not on the same elevator. in the hallways you can feel his stare on you, gently caressing your mind. you just want to go up to him, take him into your arms, and kiss him until you run out of breath. you want, for just once, to close your eyes and see the two of you happily together. instead of that godforsaken night.

sighing, you put your headphones in, deciding to drown out the nature sounds around you.

there’s a deal you can make on a midnight walk alone. look around, listen close, hear it fall from above.

you wish that you could go back to before any of this even happened. to when he was still yours and you were still his. instead, you have this empty spot where your heart use to be.

it will ask what you’d give and what you’d take for it in return. i once went on such a walk and i found that i’d said…

it’s not that you had no idea where it had gone. you knew deep down that your heart was next to his, placed gingerly together, beating for him. maybe in another world you had his heart, instead of the hollow corridors that now occupy your chest.

you inhaled sharply as you tried not to let your tears fall and continued on your walk.

“i want someone to take this soul. i can’t bear to keep it, i’d give it just to give and all i will take are the consequences. will somebody take this soul?”

as you rounded the corner back to your dorms, your body felt extremely heavy. besides the couple of tears you shed, you haven’t really let yourself fully cry. break down and fall onto your knees dry heaving cry. clutching your chest as you try to form words that you know aren’t there, that you know can’t express the pain, cry.

you knew you desperately needed it, but it’s as if your body refused to let you crumble. like some sort of hope was still keeping you glued together, every last little piece. you couldn’t understand it. what hope we’re you holding on to?

the hope that you’ll wake up, still next to soobin in your bed on your birthday, and realize that this was all some horrible dream? a nightmare your mind created? that this was all part of some other elaborate plan and at any moment everyone will pop out of the shadows?

you had to be realistic with yourself. this is your life now. and you will never be able to move on, to take back your heart, if you don’t let yourself fall.

there’s a deal that i made. there’s a deal…

did you even want your heart back?

you step to the door of your dorm room and sigh inwardly. you go to unlock it to find that it’s already unlocked. your brows furrow, but you think nothing of it. it must be my friends, you think.

oh how you were wrong.

you push your door open and are suddenly face to face with soobin. your breath hitches in your throat as you stand frozen. it’s as if you were transported back to that horrible night. those same heartbreaking eyes staring back at you.

your friends were right, soobin’s face does look fucked up. maybe not as bad as it was before, but you can definitely see the remnants of it. his left eye is patchy with green and yellows. splotches of purple cover his nose. yeonjun was disappointed to hear that he didn’t break it, only slightly cracked and bruised it. his beautiful lips had a deep cut in them. all you wanted to do was take his face in your hands.

his eyes were slightly red and there were deep bags under his eyes. his hair stood in various directions and you could tell he’s been running his fingers through it. you just noticed that he was holding a bouquet of flowers. cornflowers, white tulips, and orchids with a singular red rose in the center. you wished you didn’t swoon at it all. you also noticed the brown bag on your nightstand filled with who knows what.

he walked up to you carefully, making sure to stop a couple feet away. “y/n, please just listen to me for a mome—“

“how did you get in here?” you cut him off. you were sure you locked the door before you left.

soobin rubbed his free hand on the back of his neck. “i picked the lock… i watched a couple youtube videos… i’m sorry, i’m just now realizing how creepy this all is.” you take out your headphones and shove them into the pocket of your jeans. he follows the motion, lingering on your top.

you mentally smack yourself. you’re wearing his sweater. your face heats up as you cross your arms, trying and failing miserably to cover the sweater.

“can we please talk?” soobin finally says after a long moment of silence. you sigh and shut the door. you walk past him and sit on your bed, motioning for him to sit across from you on the other. he does just that.

soobin then gingerly hands over the bouquet of flowers. “for you,” he says softly. you hesitate before taking them. you stay quiet as you tuck the flowers close to your chest.

he looks at you, defeated. “will you say something to me? anything? please… i can’t bear your silence.” you look at him blankly for a moment before turning to the bag on the nightstand. “what’s in the bag?”

soobin lights up briefly at your voice and reaches for the bag. “they’re sweets! i made them for you. was up all night making them actually… you like a lot of stuff so i made a bunch of different things since i couldn’t decide on one thing.” he rambled. he handed you the bag.

you took it with furrowed brows. “soobin, what is this?” you can practically see his heart leap at you saying his name. or maybe it was yours, you still weren’t sure. “you think you can break into my room with flowers and homemade baked goods and everything will be okay again?”

he raked his hands through his hair. “no. i know that isn’t going to fix things.” he took the bag from you and sat it back on the nightstand, then took the flowers and placed them in the empty vase on your desk. he sat back on the empty bed and looked down at his hands for a moment.

“i know i said i was going to give you the space and time you needed, but staying away from you is driving me crazy. everytime i close my eyes i see the way you looked at me that night. the way your heart broke right in front of me…” finally, soobin met your eyes, “i would do anything to change what happened. anything. can we please just go somewhere and talk? and after this, i’ll leave you alone forever if that’s what you want. but i can’t go on with my life without you knowing how much you mean to me. how much you’ll always mean to me. please y/n… please just talk to me and let me explain everything.”

you held back the tears in your eyes, held back all the pain and the memories with him being in front of you brought up. anger was the only thing that was left. “what more could you say? what could you possibly say that will explain every interaction between us being for a stupid bet?”

anger clouded you as you tried to push away the pain. “that all of this was just a game to you? to them.” you shook your head at yourself, more in disbelief and disappointment.

“oh, how naive i was! how naive i was to think that you, choi soobin, the golden boy, the boy who everyone loves, would ever fall for me. i should’ve listened to my friends when they tried to warn me about you. when they tried to tell me that nothing good would come out of this and to be careful. maybe i wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

you clenched your fists at your side and inhaled sharply. “but no, i was just so happy that the guy i was head over heels for would even give me the time of day. i thought, “no, soobin doesn’t seem like that type of guy. he’s different.” how fucking wrong i was.”

“please, y/n—“ you cut him off with a raised hand. “how wrong i was to think that everything between us was real. that the morning of my birthday was real. that you love me.”

“it was real! all of it was real for me, y/n. i swear to you. i love you.” soobin said desperately.

tears fell from soobin’s eyes. he slid to the floor in front of you on his knees. he put his forehead to your lap and desperately held onto your hands. “please y/n… i’m begging you. just let me do this one thing. let me explain everything to you and you’ll never see me again.” you can tell that your cheeks were now wet with fallen tears as well.

you wanted to run your hands through his hair and out of his face. wipe the tears from his face and tell him how much you still love him. but you couldn’t.

you wiped the tears furiously off your face and tried to breathe. it was haggard. you could feel your hands shake under his. it’s been days since you’ve been this close. days since you’ve last touched.

you inhaled sharply. “this is your last and final chance. your only chance… to explain this to me. to explain why you would do this to me.” he looked up to you, his eyes redder and his cheeks wet. you saw the hopeful gleam in his eyes. “to tell me if everything between us was a lie. to tell me if you ever actually loved me.”

soobin rose heavily to his feet, he still held onto your hands. reluctantly, he let go of them. you saw how his hands twitched after. “will you walk with me?”

the two of you ended up walking side by side together for a while. you can tell he was leading you somewhere from the deliberate turns that he made. the sun was just beginning to go down, pink streaks of color breaking through the blue sky.

you were walking through a path connected to the woods. you were by the park he took you to when he first asked you to be his girlfriend. the path broke out into a small isolated clearing and you froze in your tracks as you held your breath.

in front of you was a field of cornflowers, your favorite flower. you put a hand to your mouth as you looked around. soobin looked back at you, noticing the fact that you weren’t beside him anymore, and stopped to watch you take in the scene.

you noticed there was already a small blanket laid out in an empty part where there were no flowers. gently, soobin took your hand and guided you there. you sat down a little bit away from him and tried to focus on the conversation that you were about to have. you played with the end of his sweater as you waited for him to speak.

“i just want to start by saying that i’m really, really sorry y/n. about all of it. about even agreeing to the bet in the first place, about breaking your heart for the first time when i took my anger out on you, and about breaking your heart for the second time when i kept the whole bet aspect a secret from you and ultimately having you get hurt in the end. i didn’t want you to get hurt, i tried everything in my power for it to not happen. but a relationship built on lies will fall eventually, and i kept trying to seal the cracks with more lies.”

he ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before continuing. “so here is the complete and utter truth. the day we first spoke, by the elevator, that wasn’t by chance. i waited to speak to you, i even made up a lie about taking a sociology class so i could meet you at the cafe later that day and have you “help” me figure it out. then i proposed the dinner idea so i could get the bet rolling.”

you looked down to the blanket you were sitting on and squeezed your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. you knew it. deep down, you knew it.

“that was the first and last thing in our relationship that i ever did for that bet,” soobin said. you looked up to him to find he was already staring at you. you had a hard time believing his words.

“i know you don’t believe me, but i swear to you i’m telling the truth. when we had our first date, it’s like my eyes were opened. you’re everything that i ever wanted, and i knew from the moment i took you back to your dorm room and we kissed that i severely fucked up. i was already harboring feelings for you and i didn’t understand them because nobody has ever made me feel the way that you do. so that’s when i ignored you and everything at sakura’s party happened.”

your mind flashed back to those events. you drunk texting soobin and asking him why he’s ignoring you. his hurtful words. you telling soobin to meet you at the cafe and him explaining his feelings for you like he’s doing now.

“by then, i was barely speaking to… my friends…” he trailed off. he didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that they weren’t his friends anymore. “i told you, i wanted to keep you all to myself. the way they spoke about you… it made me so angry that if i were around them for any longer someone would’ve ended up dead.”

soobin shook his head slightly to clear the emotions. “for a while, i forgot all about the bet. until one day taehyun asked me when i was gonna stop pretending that i wasn’t in love with you.” he breathed in deeply as if he was reliving the conversation. “it felt like my world came crashing down around me. that was when i truly knew that it was over, that i couldn’t pretend that the bet was never a thing.”

you breathed in shakily. “were you ever going to tell me? or were you going to keep going and let me figure it out on my own?” you asked him.

“the night i came to your dorm, when jake and hueningkai caught us together, i was going to tell you. i was. but the words got stuck in my throat and i just couldn’t. i couldn’t hurt you.”

“you not telling me and letting me find out in front of everyone on my birthday hurt me more. you let me be humiliated all because you couldn’t own up to what you’ve done.” anger laced with the pain in your voice.

he closed his eyes at your words and his eyebrows knitted together. “i know,” he said, low and soft. “i know. and i’ll never forgive myself for letting that happen. and i’ll never forgive myself for watching you get hurt in front of everyone. and i’ll never forgive myself, ever, because i can never take back what happened. and i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry i can't take it back and change the way things happened.”

you didn’t want to ask him, but you had to know. you had to know the truth. “did you ever love me?”

his answer was immediate, “yes. of course, more than anything. i still love you more than anything. i will always love you more than anything. that’s never ever going to change. i love you so much that words can’t express how i truly and genuinely feel for you. everytime i’m away from you my soul calls out to yours and everytime i’m with you it sings from how complete it is. i love you, y/n. and i’m sorry that i ever made you question that.”

soobin scooted closer to you, but stopped himself before he got too close. his body sagged and it looked like the weight of the world was holding him down. “and my words may mean nothing to you, but please know i mean it with every fiber of my being when i say this… i’ve meant every word i told you. every touch, every kiss, every longing look… i meant. and no matter how much i wish i could turn back time and change the past, once again, i can’t. i can’t fix the past, so please y/n… please let me try and save our future. you already have my heart and forever it will beat for you.”

you wanted to stand in front of him so you could look down on him and tell him the truth. how your chest is empty. how the only thing that echos through it are all the mistakes he’s made. how there’s nothing there. but quietly, tucked away behind the door you locked all your feelings in, you heard it.

the beating heart. his beating heart. you couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes. the tears that turned into full blown sobs.

and finally, what you’ve felt like you’ve been waiting for for a lifetime, soobin held you in his arms. you buried your face in his chest and heard your own heart beating back to you.

and soobin was right, with him, you felt complete. “and you have mine,” you whispered. he wrapped his arms around you tighter.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, in the clearing surrounded by cornflowers, until the sun went completely down. until only the moonlight could guide you.

soobin walked you back to your dorm and in front of your room you hesitated. you were exhausted and no doubt your eyes were puffy from all the crying you did. you turned to him, running your hands through his hair and getting it out of his eyes. he leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, sighing softly. you brought your hands back to your side and took a deep breath.

“i love you, soobin. and i want us to work, you don’t know how desperately i want us to work. but i still need time. i need time to process everything that has happened today, and i still need to process everything that happened in the past—“

soobin quickly cut you off. “i’ll wait however long it takes. i’ll wait until the end of the world if i have to. as long as you don’t take your heart away from me. let me have it, let me keep it safe. i promise i will keep it safe.”

you sighed and he put his forehead against yours. you closed your eyes as you resisted the urge to press your lips against his. for once in the days since your birthday, you didn’t see painful memories when you closed your eyes.

“this is the last time. you don’t have any more chances after this,” you whispered. “keep my heart safe.” you pulled away and went to turn to enter your room but soobin grabbed your arm.

he placed your hand to his chest and put his hand over it. he looked longingly at you and then took a step back. you knew what he meant. forever.

you went into your room and shut the door behind you, sliding down it as more tears fell from your eyes. you buried your face into your hands and tried to stifle your sobs. ultimately, you decided that after today you needed long, hot shower.

when you came out of the bathroom to get dressed, you were shocked to see more of soobin’s hoodies and sweaters laying with your clothes. there was a note on top of them.

if you decide you don’t ever want to talk or see me again, at least take these. even if you throw them away, i will at least get to be with you in some way one last time.

deciding that you don’t want to shed anymore tears today, you slipped one of the hoodies he left for you on. his scent surrounded you and you had to lean against the wall next to your dresser for support. you dug your hands into the pocket and found that there was another note. it was addressed to you and was slightly worn.

to my beautiful beautiful y/n,

i love you more than there are stars in the sky. your smile shines brighter than all of them combined. with you, i’ve never felt more alive. i’m just glad that i get to call you mine.

— binnie, your love

p.s. sorry if this is cheesy… i can't wait to let you know how much you mean to me.

your hand covered your mouth as you brought the note close to your chest. he must’ve written this when the two of you were still together, but when? you examined the small note further and noticed a date written in the middle of the back of the note.

it was from the day you caught your friends spying on your date at the diner. you didn’t know whether to laugh at how cheesy the note definitely was, or cry at the fact that he loved you all this time. did he mean to leave this note in this hoodie?

as you examined it further, you realized it was the hoodie he was wearing that day. and the note was written on a ripped off piece of the menu from the diner. it had to be by accident.

you gingerly placed the note inside a drawer in your desk for safe keeping. you then laid on your bed and wrapped the hoodie around you tighter. you just couldn’t believe everything that has happened today.

your heart—his heart—swelled in your chest. finally, you nodded off to sleep, dreaming of you and him under the stars in a field of cornflowers.

masterlist.

summary: choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. y/n… not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can’t get y/n to date him in a month. unfortunately for y/n, they’re a hopeless romantic.

A/N: one thing about me… i’m gonna write a long ass love confession😁 literally was possessed by shonda rhimes herself for it lmao early chapter for all my babygirls, you’re welcome!

taglist: @imagineyour-kpopboy @gothgyuu @carengene @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @binluvsu (if your name is bold it wouldn’t let me tag you!)

— kipo <3

[69dias]

jude sees you wearing a gasp rival’s shirt

a/n: as a culer for life this was so hard for me to write . however. jude is sexy and this was sexy so!

warnings: smut, just fingering and sexual tension, impact play !! spanking !! and Jude being upset at oc lolz

blue looks really good on you; that’s the only thing keeping you from ripping this jersey off of your body and waiting for jude in nothing but your underwear. you don’t doubt that this plan will just be a longer, roundabout way of getting him inside you, but there’s a little nervousness rippling under your skin that makes you shift uneasily in front of the mirror.

the jersey was hard enough to buy when the idea struck you a few weeks ago, having to get it ordered to your friends house, who was kind enough to just shoot you a confused look, obviously shocked at the irony of you (given your relationship) buying a barca kit of all teams. now that you’re wearing it, the whole scheme of yours seems ridiculous, not to mention how awkward you feel; the fabric too rough on your skin, the name on the back — gavi’s, embellished above a 30 — too foreign, the prospect of this causing a fight making your stomach turn.

jude wouldn’t be angry, you’re sure he’d just go silent and wait for you to give up the shtick to even speak to you, but the possibility of it all going south, his rare jealousy showing it’s head in a fit of rage when he sees a rival’s name on your back when it should be his — it has you grabbing the hem of the jersey where it falls just below the middle of your thighs to pull it off.

as these things go, though, you’re cut off by jude himself, calling your name as he announces himself.

“babe? ‘m coming in. practice was terrible, they shouldn’t be allowed to have us practice out in this fuckin’ weather —“

he stops as his eyes land on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look up at his face to gauge his reaction. you’re sure his mouth is slightly agape, eyebrows beginning to furrow as the realization settles, but you force yourself to stare at the edge of the mirror in front of you, shifting on your feet as the tension in the room begins to settle.

you clear your throat, clenching and then unclenching your fists as you will yourself to stop standing so still.

“it’s - it’s hot out, huh?” it’s a stupid thing to say, and your voice comes out smaller than you expect, barely ringing out as you feel his gaze on your face. the hardness of jude’s stare makes you want to fling yourself at his feet and give him head for hours as an apology, but you need to see this plan through. “they really shouldn’t have you practicing—“

“where did you get that?”

“get what?” your feigned ignorance makes you scoff as you look up, biting the inside of your lip as he meets your gaze. his eyes are dark, glazed over in something you can’t quite read, but it’s almost primal.

“that… that fucking —“ he pauses, like he’s trying to find the correct words to describe the garment, the one your fingers are twisted in as a feeble attempt to calm yourself down. “that fucking shirt.”

jude spits the word out with a pointed venomous tone, taking a step to his left so he can see the name on the back. you can feel the heaviness of the room when he reads his rival’s name and number. he barks out a short laugh, taking short steps to walk behind you. your arms are folded over your chest to cover the small embroidered logo of the club, but he reaches around you to bring them down to your sides.

you can tell he’s not angry, that this is going exactly where you hoped it would and the though makes your mouth run dry, especially when he bends his head, pressing his chin against your shoulder to look you in the eyes in the mirror.

“jude,” your voice is still shaky, and it makes him smile, a soft reminder that he’s not actually upset with you. “don’t you think I look good?”

his fingers trace your thighs, right under the hem of the kit. they make absentminded patterns, sending heat rushing down between your legs at his nonchalance.

“I think you just want my attention. isn’t that it?”

you don’t answer, and he urges you to say something with a gentle pinch to the side of your thighs.

“no, I just like barca.”

jude laughs out loud at that, seeing right through your (albeit impeccable) lie. his hands smoothen out the jersey as they make their way up to your back, tracing the embellished ‘30’ right under the name on the jersey.

“and what about him? gavi. you like him too?”

you gulp at his question, arching back into his hardening touch. your next words are ridiculously risky, but you don’t mind being out on a ledge if it means you’ll get laid.

(he may actually be right about you just wanting attention, but you wouldn’t really ever admit it.)

“I think he’s really hot, actually. good player, but better on the eyes.”

jude’s eyes harden at that, left hand grabbing your waist so he can bend you over, right hand drawing back to land a harsh slap on your barely clothed ass. it makes you yelp, jolt forward until he has to use his grip on your waist as leverage to pull you back towards him. the sting is sharp, traveling down your legs until your cunt flutters around nothing at the impact, mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

jude’s gaze meets yours, and you nod slightly, knowing he’s just testing the waters. the green light is all he needs, pulling his hand back from where it was soothing your smarting skin and hitting you again, twice, thrice, four times until you squeeze your thighs, a desperate gasp leaving you as tears well in your eyes from the sheer desperation and pain.

“how many was that, baby?”

“what?” your voice is barely above a whisper, blinking away the tears. “I didn’t count.”

the words are wet, wobbly as they ring out and he rubs the small of your back. It’s clear that he doesn’t take pity on you, though, with the kit still sitting on your body.

“I counted. that was 5.”

you furrow your brows, confusion etched on your face when you look up into the mirror to catch him staring down at you.

“what?”

“that was 5. you’re wearing the number 30. so how many more do we have to go?”

he can’t be serious, you think, but you feel the wetness on your inner thighs as he speaks, and the way your ass stings makes you crave more in an almost sadistic way.

despite your better judgment, still, you don’t tell jude to stop; you don’t tell him anything, in fact, shaking your head defiantly like you want him to get even more ticked off. from the way his jaw clenches through your blurry vision, it seems like you’ve succeeded.

jude’s hands began to take turns, the smacks on your thighs and ass falling in hard and painful rhythm. stubborn was truly your middle name, but he was determined and you always fell before him eventually.

“that was 13, now. how many do we have left?”

you sniff, the wetness between your legs getting uncomfortable as you grind your thighs together, only for him to stick his thigh in between your legs, effectively stopping your movements.

you shake your head again, reaching behind your neck to remove the hair that covers the number on the kit in an open act of defiance, one that makes him scoff out loud.

“we can do this all day, baby.” his fingers make quick work of your panties, slipping them down your smarting ass, rubbing over the red skin before dipping in between your legs. he strokes your slit, two of his fingers flicking at your clit until a jolt of pleasure rushes down your legs, a squeal of his name coloring the air.

“you can be a brat all you want, wearing this fucking shirt, trying to piss me off. but I’m gonna keep asking, and until you answer me, this greedy cunt isn’t going to get anything.”

the promise sends a shiver down your back, especially when he punctuates it with a swift plunge of his fingers into your pussy. your mouth falls open in a sharp exhale, grinding your hips back into him, but to no avail.

jude pulls out of you just as soon as you get too greedy, wiping the wetness on your reddened ass before delivering two more smacks to the skin.

“how many was that, baby?” he gives you another, and another, and you’re so desperate that your head spins, trying to get it together so he can’t just fuck you, dammit, but the ability to add has seemed to vanished from the face of your brain. “now?”

he slips his fingers down between your legs again, letting you grind against his feathery touch until you whine out, kicking your legs like a petulant child until he smooths his hand down your skin, calming you down.

Fuck.

Thirteen, and then two more.

So fifteen.

And then two.

So seventeen.

you reach back to grab his wrist, keeping it between your legs as you take a deep breath to calm yourself down.

“seventeen, jude, please,” he uses his free hand to continue rubbing over your smarting skin, soft over the swollen redness. “i’m sorry, he’s nothing.”

you know he doesn’t need the assurance, that he’s secure enough in himself, but you say it anyways because it obviously eggs him on. his fingers rub over your clit, and you can see how his eyes darken when you tense your legs, spreading them further so he has better access. his touch is still light, especially when he prods over your fluttering hole, pressing his middle finger in until you clench around it.

“that’s my girl,” he pulls out, leaving just his first knuckle in, and then pushes back until his finger is completely sheathed within you. you muffle your moans with one hand, embarrassed at how far gone you are, but he doesn’t let you, reaching around to pull your hand away from your face, lacing his free fingers with his. “you take it so well, don’t you?’

your nods are fervent, squeezing onto his hands until he rubs a thumb on the outside of your palm. all you can do is beg him, clenching around his finger, jaw dropping from the numbing pleasure when he pushes another finger in, thumb rubbing at your clit. your legs feel like jelly, head heavy like it’s suspended in thick syrup as he molds you however he wants. you love when jude gets like this, giving you everything, more than you can even take; his free hand has left yours to hold onto the base of your hair, pulling it back so he can look right into your eyes.

“you gonna let me tear this off you? or is barca still too precious?” the last part of the question is whispered against your skin when he leans forward, not letting you answer as he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss right after. “because we can go as long as it takes.”

[fangirlingpuggle]

So a couple more half asleep random thoughts on my latest DP AU where Danny accidentally calls CW dad and then no one believes he’s not actually his dad (Link here)

Mainly Fright Knight. He hears Phantom called CW father and he starts thinking about kid running into fights with the odds stacked against him, ridiculously stubborn and noble, completely protective over the land he’s claimed to protect and winning through determination and force of will and suddenly is remembering what Pariah was like when he was younger and before the madness took hold and is 1000% sure Danny is Pariah and CW’s biological kid no one will convince him otherwise and after his mini breakdown that he literally tried to kill his prince he decides it is his duty to protect Phantom at all costs. He shows up and swears fealty to him and Danny is just like ‘wtf wtf wtf’ and tries explaining that he called Clockwork dad on accident and oh god he’s embarrassed enough about calling his sort of mentor dad but

Danny: Look Clockwork is not my dad and Pariah definitely isn’t

Fright Knight: Yes they are

Danny:...I-what no no they are not

Fright Knight: They most definitely are my prince

Danny:...

It’s a lost cause trying to explain they’re not Clockwork has shown the ancients the actual timeline they still don’t believe him.

Fright knight is not only super protective of Danny, Dash literally doesn't know what him but he ended up though a wall last time he tried to mess with Danny (Danny is torn between fuck you almost killed him and fuck that was amazing) but also very concerned about the future ghost kings education he finds out Danny is struggling and goes apeshit in the ghost zone like ‘ALL OF YOU WILL STAY ON THIS SIDE OF THE PORTAL OUR FUTURE KING NEEDS TO DO CALCULUS’ he also is deeply concerned his prince does not know about ghost zone lore so Danny ends up getting ghost history lessons....Jazz gatecrashes them, she is taking all the notes (She’s also heard about Pariah and CW relationship and is very invested)

Also he starts teaching Danny more fighting and Danny wants to argue and should be trying to convince everyone he’s not the ghost zone prince...but he’s sword lessons and it’s super cool.

He’s kinda just getting used to that when the ancients show up with presents to see their Nephew. Danny feels super awkward and is just very glad Jack and Maddie are still in the basement having an existential crisis and looking over all their life's work to busy to come upstairs and see all of the most powerful ancient ghosts of the infinite realms having tea around the table.... at least he gets to hear embarrassing stories about Pariah and Clockwork.

Clockwork shows up as well Danny is awkward as hell around him at first because haven’t really interacted since he pulled the ultimate accidentally calling your teacher dad move.

CW: I wouldn’t bother trying to keep explaining it to them Daniel just accept fate

Danny:...uh why is it for the best timeline

CW:No. They’re just to stubborn to accept anything else.

CW: In all timelines all trying to explain does is lead to a headache

He also not so subtly says that well he also sees Danny as a son and that he wouldn’t mind having that bond... it’s the weirdest most roundabout way to adopt someone.

Pariah shows up and instead of the dramatic reunion he and CW slide just into how they were before Pariah went crazy aka the most mushy romantic couple of all time, like able to kill you with a thought but to busy getting lost in each others eyes to think about it.

The observants are actually super happy Pariah is back because they totally shipped it they spent centuries observing these twos ridiculous pinning and romance and then Pariah went crazy and sunk their ship and so they are super happy to have their ship back they are sitting back watching eating popcorn watching this surprise child plot twist gasping and with their own cork board of conspiracies like ‘OMG THAT’S WHY CLOCKWORK SAVED HIM YES DOTS CONNECTED’

Bonus: Vlad bursts in to do evil plan he’s been plotting and... there is the fight Knight all the ancients, Clockwork and Pariah all just sitting there...he just very slowly walks backwards out of the house...Fright Knight still tracks him down and kicks his ass.

Bonus bouns: Dani. The zones find about Dani and lose their minds more nobody even questions how they could have 2 kids of different ages at all, they’re all like you control time weird shit happens but for sure that’s your kid.

Vlad: I made them that’s a clone of Daniel

Ghost Zone: ha right nah that’s Pariah and Clockworks kid

Vlad*Eye twitching*

Dani finds herself scooped up by Fight knight calling her the princess of the ghost zone and that her fathers have been looking for her and she’s confused but also like...ok and just rolls with it.

[thesherrinfordfacility]

i did not break my own heart last night thinking about the missing 1941 scene and have it sat in my brain all of today spinning around like a fucking microwave in order to not make you lot suffer with me. and i somehow feel i may be right about this so buckle up and lets break it down.

so yes, following on from this post, i think that there is going to be a third 1941 scene. twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern. it's been literally set up like that by even bringing back 1941 into s2 in the first place. but we're missing a crucial detail because it does not - at all, really - explain how they went from evading danger from hell and having a cosy candlelit bottle of red to celebrate, to the bastard 1967 scene. we all know this, this is nothing new.

the symbolism of nightingales is probably going to cast a shadow on this. these two excellent analyses look at the meaning of nightingales in the context of R&J, and the relation that the song has to this point in time, respectively. in summary; it's a song that should be around in 1941 courtesy of vera lynn and others, and the nightingale itself carries the meaning of love being hidden and forbidden by way of it singing under the cover of darkness, before being replaced with reality and soberness - represented by the lark. the Dinner of '41 scene is set in the bookshop at night; this would parallel - that they are safe and concealed, and truths can be shared, but the writing is on the wall that stepping outside would be to shatter the illusion, so to speak. it might be that the song itself gets miracled up onto the record player, or a wireless lying about - whatever. note: i don't think they'll dance though, not given crowley in ep5, "you don't dance"... but then again, if there ISNT a kiss in s3-1941, an aborted dance seems like the next best option... the cowardly one, but i'll take it

this would also track with aziraphale having his epiphany after the church in s1-1941; specifically, in my eyes, that he doesn't necessarily just realise he loves crowley, but that crowley by way of saving his books loves him too. this is only supported by the whole of the s2-1941 scene of trusting in each other as the only way to pull off the trick, the subterfuge. this is then, again, also important in the context of what i think happens in s3-1941.

i do think aziraphale is going to bring the books up again, and what crowley did, because it needs to be addressed. the Nazis/furfur confrontation has scared him, regardless of whether he saved them both, more than he realised. its put things into startling perspective. i think he's going to bring up the books, and actually question crowley a little more as to why he did it. the repeated use of, and subsequent weird reaction crowley has to, the use of the term "friend" in s2-1941 would indicate that this is going to be a focal point in s3-1941. are they just friends? is crowley disappointed that aziraphale is still referring to him as that, after what he did? 'saving' aziraphale in the church, and then saving his books? or is aziraphale just saying 'friends' so hesitantly in both instances because he's not completely sure where crowley stands?

we as the audience know the answer to this, but they obviously do not. if one of the crucial themes of s3 is going to be resolving miscommunication, it makes sense for this scene to be the first, and last, time they communicate properly... at least, until they sort out the issues that culminated in the Final Fifteen.

so let's say they start getting into a very roundabout way of discussing what they mean to each other. there will need to be the sobering, ice-water-over-the-head realisation however, as s2-1941 demonstrated, that they cannot belong to each other, because they manifestly belong to heaven and hell respectively. crowley is still being spied on, and it firmly places aziraphale in their line of sight too. it's going to bring up the holy water discussion; why crowley asked for it - to protect himself, whether by taking out demons or taking out himself, as long as it means he - and most importantly, aziraphale - does not get hurt.

they actively confess that they want to be together, in a way that is more than they are now. aziraphale wants to, but says that they can't, because it's too dangerous. crowley suggests that no one ever has to know, they can hide it (there, in the bookshop, whilst the nightingale is singing), and even if they are found out, they can run. "hell won't just be angry; they'll destroy you..." // "no one ever has to know".

aziraphale doesn't want to have to hide it, doesn't want a halfway measure- is still thinking in black and white. crowley however thinks that something is better than nothing - thinking in the grey. but ultimately, as long as they are still shackled, they cannot do what they want, and it puts the other in danger. "surely the great thing about being a demon is that you can do whatever you want" // "you sound jealous, angel...". instead, aziraphale promises that the day that they are no longer tied to heaven or hell, they can be together; crowley scoffs, thinking that that will never happen, so they will never happen, "you're so clever! how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?!"

the reason they can't right now is because they could be caught. they would have to skulk around, be ashamed, feel guilty - and aziraphale is tired of feeling like that. because only having crowley in secret would hurt more. not being able hold his hand, or dance with him, or kiss him, unless it was in the bookshop. if hell were to find out, crowley would be killed, true, but if heaven were to find out, aziraphale could be cast out. and if crowley survived hell long enough to see aziraphale fall - he'd never forgive himself, and in a way, i don't think he'd ever forgive aziraphale either.

it's tearing them to pieces, but they have to stop whatever is happening between them in its tracks. it's acknowledged, but it's not named. this gives them plausible deniability; if they called it 'love', it would be undeniable. so, aziraphale asks for crowley to go; asks him to leave before they do something they can't come back from. crowley doesn't listen - crowds him, gets in close, and aziraphale is powerless to stop it. doesn't want to stop it. he's selfish by nature, a selfless kind of selfishness, but he wants this with all his being. and then - "this is too fast, crowley, please don't..." // "im sorry, angel. please... please, forgive me". aziraphale never gets to answer, to grant him that, because boom - the actual first kiss.

so. now that i've had to make you read that, i'm going in for the kill. let's look at everything that follows - and look at how the above might recontextualise it.

1967: the offer of the picnic, the Ritz? ie. the literal lyrics of berkeley square? aziraphale has caved in the interest of giving crowley a weapon to use if all else fails, to protect him, but that's as far as he's willing to progress. everything else is still too painful; he's on the brink of tears, promising that one day they'll be able to do what they want, to be open about how they feel, but not yet. they can't. crowley tries to push, "ill give you a lift, anywhere you want to go..." (him offering again to run away? a second chance to leg it?), and aziraphale reminding him that they can't, he can't... don't make him go too fast again, it's not fair. it also sets up perfectly that aziraphale and crowley don't speak for the next 40 or so years (as far as we're aware) until armageddon is threatened.

bandstand: mostly this is still centred around the apocalypse contextually, but i think with the above hypothetical scene in mind (the offer to hide, to run away, to be together), aziraphale is sent back to remembering their mutual confession that they've nonverbally agreed not to bring up, because it's not safe, and it's too painful. they've skirted around it, and returned instead to a tentative kind of friendship at the beginning of s1, but they're still not safe to address why seeing each other again, being so close to each other and not being able to touch is so painful. anyway - aziraphale refuses their side, but the above scene would re-view this as 'our side can't exist yet, you know this! you know why it can't!', and crowley leaves, again after pushing a bit more than aziraphale can stand.

alpha centauri: basically a facsimile of the above; same steps, same dance. but this time, crowley harks back to aziraphale's foolish (?) hope that they will be together, without having to run away, when the day comes that they don't have to answer to heaven or hell. and aziraphale smacks him right back, echoing crowley asking for aziraphale's forgiveness in kissing him, "i forgive you." crowley knows exactly what aziraphale is getting at, there - he's answering crowley's whispered plea to forgive him for pushing, for trying to force him, for acting in desperation. but he's also not answering that - he's skirting around that very thing, forgiving him like a knife would, slicing back at crowley for not only insulting aziraphale on something that is likely a genuine insecurity of his, but also putting him back in his place, for their safeties, because them being together just cannot happen. not yet.

and "please forgive me" in 1941 might seem out of character, but idk if it is; crowley knows that doing what he's about to do will hurt aziraphale, aziraphale has (hypothetically) told him as much, but he needs to do it - and seeks not benevolence or forgiveness as crowley-the-demon, but actually seems aziraphale's forgiveness, as crowley-the-person. the echo would certainly match the tone given here, in multiple ways:

the ritz: i mean, what is there to say? yes, their song is literally playing on the piano, and heralds the shift in their being out from heaven and hell, the day has finally come where they can - again, going by this entirely hypothetical scene that ive concocted - actually be together as they want to. and the nightingale literally singing outside, but as @shoemakerobstetrician beautifully pointed out, god remarks that it's covered up by traffic. so actually, if we again refer back to R&J interpretation of the nightingale, the love is still hidden, still somewhat under wraps, but can only just about be heard over the noise of the streets outside. the prohibition of them being together, of loving each other, is dwindling. and one day, it'll stop singing altogether. that day is coming, it will come, and then they can do what they please. so whilst the ritz scene may well be a mark of them starting the next chapter, it's slow to take hold, there's still hesitancy - which absolutely makes sense when we see that they are still very tentative with each other come the beginning of s2.

s2 general: aziraphale realises their freedom first; he gets excited by the dance, and being able to show his love to crowley, completely and without barriers, in the form of the ball - what he has read to be the best way to do so. he touches crowley more. he shares his bookshop with him, gifts it to crowley as being his as well as aziraphale's, this safe space that is so wholly theirs that crowley has the power to grant entry. the same with the bentley - aziraphale sees it as theirs, and crowley silently agrees, granting aziraphale the same power. crowley is comfortable in the bookshop to remove his glasses, has a place for them. the bookshop becomes tidier, more minimalist, to make crowley more comfortable in it (it is more cluttered in s1, im certain of it). it might just be the grading between s1 and s2, and lack of clutter, but the yellow is more prominent - his literal favourite colour. everything just screams that aziraphale is ready to make good on his promise from s3-1941.

crowley... for once, is the one not quite catching up. not realising the little dates here and there are literally poses them as a couple (although yes, the coffee shop one is to prep crowley for the goob jumpscare), that aziraphale has granted him the power to grant entry. aziraphale literally asking, practically begging, crowley to help him hide goob. the mf colour of the walls. the colour of the bentley. it's not until nina outright asks him if they are together that he realises how careless they've been - but wait, is it careless if they have nothing to be careful of? well, arguably crowley does, hell are still hanging around him like a bad smell... but this is what he wanted! this is what he was pushing aziraphale for! so, does he risk it? he's not sure, but he's certainly realising that aziraphale is ready, if nothing else. and by the time the ladies stage their little intervention, crowley finally realises that the confession he started in 1941 now can be fully aired, can come out into the open.

the Feral Domestic: *fingers at temples* i know i have been fairly vocal about my interpretation of this scene, and frankly - until we get this hypothetical s3-1941 scene, i stand by it - but let's say this speculation about the scene is true, and re-examine the key points in the Final Fifteen that would completely turn on their heads in terms of meaning:

literally, harking back full circle to what aziraphale promised in 1967 as what they would do when they could fully acknowledge their love, and what they did as soon as - on paper - they were free at the end of s1. this is however before he's spoken to by nina and maggie, so maybe this is what crowley was planning in terms of confessing fully to aziraphale, but after their meddling he realised that yes, they need to actually talk about it again. he doesn't understand why they're telling him what they are - because he's existed so long in gestures and gifts and not talking, literally dismissed it now as a viable option, that it doesn't even occur to him to try talking again.

which is why he does something brave, and tries to tell aziraphale instead (say it out loud, make it undeniable, put a name to it, "i love you", something that i think was crowley's actual intention before aziraphale interrupts him) when he comes back to the shop... he's so nervous, because it's vulnerable, and because the last time he did, they ended up hiding for 50-ish years.

next up:

now, im reluctant to think that aziraphale lied in the Feral Domestic, because i do think the key thing at work is his paramount need to do the Right Thing (ie. make a difference in heaven). whilst metatron obviously manipulates him, im not entirely convinced that aziraphale wholly sees through it. i don't think he knew that metatron was up to something, i think the shaking off of this naivety is going to be part of his s3 character development. but this sentence - again, especially in context of the hypothetical s3-1941 scene - must on some level frighten him. especially if you take this meta into account, aziraphale must realise at least that they were never safe, even when they were denying what they were and how they felt, it didn't make a bit of difference. now, metatron could have just been talking about the arrangement, not referring to any romantic elements of any kind, but the threat of it? no wonder he pushes for crowley to join him in heaven; he could keep crowley safe there. they could be together, and heaven - in his eyes - would be able to say a word against it.

then:

the fear sets in; crowley was too late in telling him, acknowledging that they could be together, realising what aziraphale was saying to him without words, and now heaven has come for him. plonked them right back where they were in s2-1941, but perversely mirrored; instead of hell coming for crowley with violence, heaven came for aziraphale with kindness. crowley doesn't have a magic trick he can just do on the fly, perform it perfectly when the need for it is greatest, and has to cling to the hope that aziraphale still sees them as the barrier to them, the reason they can't be together. and in true miscommunication fashion, i think aziraphale does see it, but what metatron said lingers, and in addition to being inside the institution, changing it from the inside out, in order to make a difference... he knows that whilst it's exactly the opposite of what they wanted, he needs to make them safe. better to be inside the tent pissing out, than outside the tent pissing in.

but aziraphale doesn't tell crowley what metatron said, because instead he either deliberately tries to deny the implications of it (cognitive dissonance king behaviour), or he doesn't want to panic crowley and is trying to convey to crowley that he can't speak his concerns, not when the metatron could still be watching, and instead just needs crowley to trust him, take his hand, and join him in heaven where they can be safe. doesn't tell crowley that heaven hasn't captured him in shackles again, but he's willingly held out his wrists because it's the safest thing for him, and them, to do.

so it's one thing to look at what crowley's saying, but aziraphale's reaction? before, i just found it to be out of confusion, him not really understanding what crowley was saying, but tbh i never paid much attention to it (david stole this bit of the scene - not to put down my beloved michael here, but he did). and i know others have remarked here that aziraphale is flitting his eyes to the window and looks scared and stressed, but i don't completely think that its because he's scared that metatron is watching (although, now, i will accept with the rug thing and hypothetical s3-1941 in context it is definitely playing a part), but also because he's just starting to recognise that this is a repeat of the s3-1941 scene, "this sounds familiar, we've been here before... oh, we've definitely been here before... oh shit. i still can't do this, not unless he comes with me. we still can't be together, not in the way crowley wants. the way he's trying again, now, to ask for."

but the issue is: crowley wants to run away together. again. and i totally get why, but once again, going back to 1941: it's exactly the solution that will not work. they cannot run from this. heaven, and hell, will find them. they will come for them. it wasn't an option in 1941, it wasn't an option in 2019, and it isn't an option in 2023. aziraphale begins shaking his head - crowley is confessing, but a) aziraphale doesn't run from things, it isnt in his character, and b) it's just putting them back where they started - something that they have to hide. it defeats the purpose.

and this? yeah, im sure on neither side it was meant the way im about to interpret it, more of an unspoken thing, idk... but if the bookshop is indeed their place of safety, and is where they (as far as crowley sees it) can speak and keep their love, it makes sense that crowley is telling aziraphale he needs to stay. the bookshop can be interpreted so many ways - it represents their relationship, or that crowley means him, himself - but what if we looked at it like crowley is trying now to covet it, because it's protecting them? what if he's saying, "well, if you won't run away with me, we can't be free to have our relationship as we wanted it, not unless we stay here... heaven has come for you, has come for us, and whilst they're here we can't move. so what other option is left remain in this bookshop? to never leave it, and what we have inside it, because there's no other option in which we can be together if you won't run with me."

and what if aziraphale is saying, "no, i have an option, and that's to be together in heaven! they won't be able to do anything, not when im in the position the metatron has offered me, that can be our new bookshop... nothing lasts forever - this bookshop won't last forever, it's compromised, and we can't continue to secret away what we feel inside it, it's time to move forward."

welcome to the line that breaks my heart the most in this whole goddamn scene - and tbh i think is fairly self-explanatory in the hypothetical s3-1941 context. that aziraphale is trying, once again, to tell crowley that he is offering himself, letting them be an 'us', as crowley says shortly after - that before he couldnt do it, and these arent the best of circumstances, but they can finally do it and not have to hide in the bookshop. but crowley reminds him, "hey, i was in your shoes, remember. i wanted us to be together then, and you told me you couldn't, didn't want a halfway measure - well, now i don't either. and this will be a halfway measure, because i don't think us being together in heaven is going to go the way you hope it will. i understand a whole lot better than you do." in any case, it would explain why aziraphale choses this moment to look so devastated. this is what he promised crowley, but now crowley - to his mind, in the things left Unsaid - doesn't want it... him.

and then... back to the nightingales. they're not singing at all, not even under the rumble of traffic, like they were at the Ritz. they're completely absent - day has broken, the things unspoken have now been said, and there's no denying them anymore. from crowley's point of view, there was nothing to stop them this time, but if aziraphale won't run with him, then they have to go separate ways, because there is no other way. aziraphale knows there's the possibility that the only place they could actually be safe is heaven itself, that the bookshop was never as safe as they hoped it had been, but that crowley might actually come to see that. but the fact that crowley is resigned to just... returning to 'reality', to a world that's still turning where they aren't together? despite everything they've just said? "we could've been... us." well, that hurts.

and then... the kiss. now. im still of the mind that the kiss was an Issue. i definitely think it was meant out of love and desperation, and out of possibly being a goodbye. this would echo the hypothetical s3-1941 kiss... but it was hurtful. it was abrupt, and harsh, and not at all romantic (imo). it was possessive, and almost cruel. i do think still it was a last ditch attempt, a temptation, to get aziraphale to change his mind, before crowley leaves the shop and returns to the 'real world'. but it hurts aziraphale in many different ways - but with 1941 put in there, too? crowley is just testing his resolve, trying to push him, come around to giving in. crowley asked him to forgive him the last time he kissed aziraphale, and this time - this time, aziraphale is giving him what he asked for.

[prettyboypistol]

I'm not sure if requests are open so if not feel free to delete this ask! Can you do the mercs realizing they're into men because of the reader?

Of course! By the way, this is my 100th post! lucky lucky Anon! This goes out to all of the rest of my followers! Thank you for all the support and followers! I'll always look at your messages and write for TF2! I couldn't be here without all of you! Thank you for letting me be the weird gay man who likes writing about old gay men kissing! -PrinceThomas :>

Tf2 Mercs x M!Reader || Gay Awakening! +18

Scout

Super in denial at first, compares you to actors he likes or thinks are hot and kinda shelves it. Is MAD jealous that you just somehow look great no matter what (to him hehe)

Realizes he has a crush on you when his usual spank bank material of girls isn't really doing it for him anymore. It's 4am, he's tired and horny and a little drunk... his mind just wandered, okay?!

Daydreamer 100%, but his feelings for you and his feelings for Miss Pauling kinda fuck him up ngl?? Is he a homo or not?? I mean, he likes boobs and lipstick and girls, but the rough and tumbled grease in your stubble just gets him rarin in a way girls didn't.

Bisexual struggles fr. Assuming that you're a Stonewall riot supporter, he'd probably try to roundabout ask if he can experiment with you.

What really set you apart from the other mercs is that you just look good compared to them! Yeah, there are some conventionally attractive guys, but you're h o t.

Soldier

Soldier, like Scout, assumed his attraction to you was something more akin to respect or friendliness. I mean, no other soldier he's ever met sacrificed himself to save him! That takes guts! Yeah, you respawned after, but the honor was still there for him.

Develops or at least tries to develop a friendship like what he with Demoman. He might come off like a very determined puppy, but you know he means well.

Uses you as someone to compare others too. (Ex. "SCOUT! THAT WAS HORRENDOUS TECHNIQUE! TAKE A LOOK AT THAT FINE MAN OVER THERE! DETERMINED! STRONG! TAKE NOTES, PRINCESS!")

When he does realize it's love, he is upfront and honest about his feelings with you. After all, if Jane did like men, he could find more powerful army and recreate that unbeatable ancient army of homosexuals!

Asks around about romance, probably interrogates Medic about how to court another man because let's be honest Medic looks gay as he'll and I will die on the hill that every merc just assumes that man is queer.

Pyro

In Pyroland, you're a prince on a unicorn. You're straight out of a fairy tale. They're overjoyed to have a prince in Pyroland rather than just babies! Yeah, it's fun to be childish, but a whimsical joy that are more complex are fun too!

Absolutely follows you around and talks about you to Engie non-stop. Engie jokes that Pyro might have a crush on you and they seriously consider it. They realize you're attractive when you do a party trick of spitting out Bug spray and lighting it on fire, making it look like you breathe fire.

As you cough and retch at the lingering taste of bug repellant in your mouth, Pyro applauds your trick and keeps trying to talk to you. They eventually are able to communicate to you, asking if you have any more fire tricks. You show them that you can twirl a pencil between all your fingers when the eraser tip is lit up like a candle.

You can kind of tell that they like you romantically, but you're not sure how to tell them that you know. A few chats with Engie tells you all you need to know: Pyro has never pursued a romantic interest, Pyro likes you, and that you can probably get their attention with an honest conversation.

Demoman

The most casual about their realization that they like you- and men in general. Just a peek at you in the showers after a particularly clutch victory caused a few rather dirty thoughts. It wasn't that big of a deal to him and kept his attitude of a drunken "Well, a hole's a hole, I bet he's tight."

Probably offers a little bit of fun after a long night of party, definitely a lot more drunk than usual as he leans a tad too close for friendship. That deep, gravelly, and warm voice growled in your ear with an open offer to join him in his room that night.

If you joined, he wouldn't remember the night and regret that he forgot the night in the morning when you and him snuggle awake. If you decline it's no harm no foul.

One of those types of guys who actually can balance his feelings for you along with his friendship- he keeps the ball in your court and stayed professionally friendly, maybe a tad brotherly competitive.

Heavy

This man is an iron wall to hide his feelings. He had the idea that he just wasn't the type to want a relationship- which was fine, more time to work to keep his family safe- but then you jumped out into danger to protect him. He was on the brink of death and you selflessly risked your life for him! Yeah, you both respawned, but it was the gesture that mattered!

His eyes trailed you a lot more often, like a security camera. He pretended to be read his book, but he knew exactly where you were. Medic is the first to notice this change.

Medic asks about Heavy's feelings for you, since Heavy had never ordered Medic to go heal anyone else before! Hell, the both of you tended to stay behind Heavy during battles after that, so you two had a sense of closeness.

When you all went out on a trip to the beach, Heavy loved watching you in the water, and even allowed himself to be dragged in by you to play water polo with Soldier and Demoman. He's a long game of chess, hopefully you can win him over!

Is a bit more protective of you out of battle, but that's something only the people he threatens is aware of.

Engie

Oh fucking god holy shit what the hell man's fucking gay PANICS. DELL IS HEARTSTOPPINGLY FROZEN IN FEAR WHEN HE REALIZES THAT HE LIKES MEN.

All you did was scale a chainlink fence with ease, albeit with a small growling as the metal dug into your fingers. Dell swallowed the feeling thickly. He didn't mean to stare at your ass, really! It just sorta... happened.

And then it happened again as he kneeled to construct a sentry. Then when he was sat down at the kitchen table as you walked by. The only time he didn't catch a glance was when you turned to him with a smug look and a "if you wanna look at my ass, you could just ask."

He knows a lot of gay cowboy culture, but was far too scared to go ahead with a few of the gestures. Although, you weren't as shy, giving him a grey handkerchief when he spillied oil on himself.(translation: grey handkerchief=bondage kink)

Finally- FINALLY! He offers you his hat on a very hot day with his head looking straight at the ground.(translation: if a cowboy puts his hat on your head, y'all fucking)

Sniper

In the top 3 of "chillest reactions to realizing he likes men", but barely on the podium yk?

Mick was doing some target practice and had lost track of time, his pot of coffee and snack pile had been long empty. Right as he was about to get up to stretch his legs, he saw you on the last rung to the ladder of his nest. "Oh hey Snipes! You missed lunch and dinner, 'decided to check in on our favorite sharpshooter." When you stay for a few moments and hand him the bottles of water and leftovers from dinner, he realized that nobody made him feel that loved.

You just being kind sends him into a "did he do that to hit on me? Does he do this to everyone?" Yeah he panics about everything you do, but not because you're a man- it's because a crush is a crush to him!

Sniper does genuinely try to show interest, but in a subtle way like inviting you out to take a smoke break, target practice, maybe offer to let you join him to survivalist camp for a few days.

Spy

Silver medalist of the chill reaction podium, mainly because he laments to himself about all the potential money he had lost by not seducing more men in his more freelance espionage days. He could have hooked up with Saxton Hale to swindle that oaf out of millions- if he had thought of that.

Does a full background and thorough investigation into your personal life, how you reacted to the huge news event of Stonewall, if you had ever hooked up with a man, anything to see if he had a chance to sneak into your dating pool.

He treats you a lot like how he treats the women he seduces, but has to overcome how you brush him off casually like a man. Women were a language Spy speant years studying, so much so that he seldom kept up with the more masculine way of communicating.

At his wit's end, he just asks you bluntly. "Listen, I find you hot. I've been trying to get into your pants for almost 2 months now, do you want to have sex?"

Medic

This man already knew he was gay before you pulled up, sorry. BUT BUT BUT you are the first crush he's had! Yeah, he knew he liked the idealized version of a man he made up in his head, but you are better than the fictional men in books!

Despite the stereotype for Medic, he didn't fall for you when he saw you on his operating table. You and Engie were theorycrafting about hypothetical cybernetic enhancements. Engie had said something biologically inaccurate about the immune system, and before Medic could interrupt your private conversation, you corrected Engie! Not in a demeaning way, but in a way that clearly showed that you had a love for biological science. Medic's heart skipped a beat.

Constantly offering you new enhancements for your body and coddles you about painful proedures (he actually gives you anathesia! How sweet!) and sends his experimental ideas to you for a betaread over. For Medic, that's essentially a confession in and of itself!

Has written your name in little hearts on his note margins and uses you as his anatomy sketch references when he needs to visualize the human skeleton.