#it just feels...weak. compared to the other musicals

[galacticleague]

speaking my truth on npmd because im thinking about this alot. i think the reason it falls flatter than tgwdlm and bf as a musical is that tgwdlm and bf have a running theme — want.

(whole thing undercut)

the cast of tgwdlm want human connection - charlotte wants sam to love her, bill wants alice to love him, mr davidson wants his wife to choke him while he jerks off etc etc, and eventually paul goes from 'i want what anyone wants, money, kids, a partner maybe idk' to - to put it simply - wanting emma (putting it very simply, if i went into detail this post would go off the rails). this switch is what makes him vulnerable to the hive and this want to live and to survive and to be happy with emma is satiated by pokey by giving him the connection he craves via hivemind, this is how it works for everyone. they want to be happy, pokey makes them happy by removing any need to want anything in the first place.

similarly, in bf, the adults of hatchetfield are still miserable and they want to be happy, they have this void within them that they feel they need to fill with products and consumerism. if they buy this stupid fucking doll their kids will love them, they will be happy, etc etc. and this want to be happy is similarly satiated by wiggly via the cult - they have something to worship, or - in lindas case - people who worship them. they have purpose, or at least they think they do, but whether their problems have actually been solved or not - they are still content.

but in npmd, this is less solid. theres that bit where they have to sacrifice what they want the most, but this is near the end. its kind of all over the place, and this wobbliness(?) is sort of just emphasised by the fact that there is no specific lord in black, its all of them. now i loved the summoning when i first watched it because im obviously a huge hatchetfield fan so i like. know who these characters are but as ive seen others say, alot of npmd does rely on knowing hatchetfield lore - understanding injokes. and in hindsight it just... isnt great for the cohesion of the plot.

tgwdlm and bf both have specific themes, specific lords in black, they have subplots but they have a solid throughline that is easier to follow. to me, npmd feels like its all over the place and it just feels kind of...mid for lack of a better word.

i think there were some moments that were just kind jarring? i guess? like if i loved you coming directly after ruths death was really strange, tonally. i wish they spent more time on ruths death tbh she deserved better. richie got two songs and an opening scene. anyways i digress- i feel like whenever i think about it im always like. i just wanted More. which is weird cuz its already like 2 hours long but idk. IDK!!! if i loved definitely felt unnecessary to me- like just conflict out of nowhere. i would have liked more build up to it. maybe im just salty that it took up stagetime that could have been used to grieve ruth but. sorry for the random if i loved you slander i think my point here is that some moments and some subplots felt more tropey, injokey or like fanservice??but not in a sexual way?? - is that the right word to use idk - than actual compelling plot moments. tgwdlm is an incredible work of theatre and uses subversions of tropes to communicate a great story, bf is a detailed criticism of american consumerism and how capitalistic societies force people to rely on products to make their lives better, npmd is. high school drama with ghosts. it just doesnt hit as hard on its own.

i dont want to be one of those "im a better writer, and THIS is how i would have done it!!!! im going to fix this!!!" people so im not going to do that but i think something i would have liked to see was focus on just one lord in black, probably nibbly because i feel like he fits the most and has the least preexisting story. i mean for gods sake, why does wiggly have the most speech time out of all the lords in black again!!! he already has an entire musical about him!!! greedy bitch- well i guess thats kind of his thing. i think i just want to see more of nibbly tbh, he has one nmt story and he only shows up at the very end. anyways that was kind of a side rant sorry gang. there isnt a problem with having a story featuring all the lords in black, but i think it just doesnt quite work in npmd for like structural reasons as well as plot cohesion.

i did enjoy npmd, im not pretending i didnt, but narratively it is the weakest hatchetfield musical and i just wanted to put my finger on what it is specifically. please dont take this as like hate or slander, i am a huge starkid fan, but i think it is important to consume media critically.

also i am not a professional i am a teenage drama and english lit student who likes media analysis and narrative design so just. take everything i say with a grain of salt :)

if you read all this, thankyou and if you disagree please lmk what you think(civilly.i do not want discourse in my notes)!! i could be hugely wrong about this and just need to think more about npmd and id love to see others' analyses!

[fictionadventurer]

It turns out the most fun way to engage with Barchester Towers is to map the characters on to other characters/people from the future that Trollope couldn't have known about.

Dr. Grantley = Squidward (ambitious, a bit pretentious/likes the finer things in life, tries for dignity but is easily angered)

Mr. Harding = Winnie the Pooh (sweet and small and simple and friendly and likes his little songs)

Mrs. Proudie = Mrs. Oleson (very opinionated domineering wife)

Mr. Slope = Rasputin (oily guy who uses spirituality to prey upon women and gain power)

[enhaeil]

BEAUTIFUL ! ☆ 엔하이픈

"the way that gucci look on you amazing ... but nothing can compare to when your naked"

beautiful - bazzi

sensual moments with enhypen !

c/w: suggestive esp more in hyung line ... nothing explicit tho actually fluffish!!

heeseung

you saw a couple on Instagram who bonded by cooking together while only wearing lingerie and boxers, and decided to try it with heeseung.

several aromas filled your kitchen as music blared on your bluetooth speaker.

you were standing by the counter, stirring something in a bowl while heeseung watched the meat cook on the stove. as it simmers, heeseung makes his way behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and swaying to the beat of the music playing.

"mm, aren't you supposed to watch the food!" you say, giving his hand a light slap as it starts to roam lower.

"oh i'm watching the food, baby. i'm watching ..." he says, biting his lip as his eyes roam to your ass that's peeking out your lingerie dress. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to take you right here and now, but he could at least let you finish cooking first.

"go do your job, then maybe i'll think of giving you some." heeseung has never moved so quickly.

after several attempts to touch you and a few 'almosts', the food is completely cooked, and you and heeseung are chowing down, despite the sensual tension that could'nt even be cut with a knife.

as you guys finish the last bites, a silence falls over the table before you're the first one to speak.

"race you to the bedroom?"

jay

tonight, jay rented out a room at a luxury hotel. there was no special occasion. no valid reason. he just wanted time with his wife.

you guys just got back from the dining hall, both wine drunk and full of food. despite your drunken state, you didn't fail to notice how handsy jay was with you the whole night, and it continued in the confinement of your room.

as you stood in the mirror, you feel jay come up behind you, the heat of his body sending chills down your spine.

"you looked so beautiful tonight, love." he says, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. he lets his hands roam over your waist, pushing you closer against him as if he wishes you could morph into one ... and he does.

you tilt your head to the side, giving him full access to press kisses against your neck, his hips absentmindedly pushing into you from behind. once he presses a kiss on your weak spot, you can't help but let out a soft moan.

"jay ... i need you, like now."

he doesn't waste a breath, as he picks you up and lays you on the bed, licking and kissing the parts of your body that are already revealed to him.

tonight was gonna be a long night.

jake

what a mess of a first date.

the food was burned, your dress ripped in the most embarrassing way, and now ... your power decided to go out.

you and jake sit in the middle of the floor, huddle next to each other while the thunder roars outside. there's a bit of an awkward yet comfortable silence between you two as you sit with two phone flashlights and a candle.

"22% ... what's your phone on?" you ask jake, breaking the silence.

he sucks his teeth before responding, "15...".

although it's dark, you can still feel his eyes lingering on you before he turns away. he speaks up again.

"some first date, huh?" a moment of silence passes before you burst into laughter. jake shoots you an obviously unnoticeable glare as you laugh like he just told the funniest joke on earth.

"wh... whats funny?" he says nervously, not wanting to make a fool of himself anymore.

"jake ... this date has been horrible.." you say in between wheezes and laughs.

"ouch ... you wound me woman," he says, placing his hand on his chest in offense.

"no, no," you begin as you scoot closer to him, which jake doesn't miss. "it's not you, it's just ... i can't believe all this happened in one night. it's comedic almost."

jake nods and lets out a small chuckle. "i can see how that would make you laugh. at least we tried!"

your laughter finally dies down, and a silence falls again. "you know ... I really do like you, y/n. since sophomore year.."

you turn towards him, trying to make out his features in the dark. "yeah? even after all this?" you say tilting your head curiously, which he can barely see but can imagine.

"if anything, I'm even more in love with you."

another silence falls between you two, but your actions are loud. before you know it, your lips somehow find his in the dark, and all that's heard is the smacking of lips and the patter of rain.

maybe this date wasn't so bad after all.

sunghoon

"hoonie..." he hears the voice of his sweet wife call out for him from their shared closet.

he's there within seconds, ready to fufill her every need.

"yes, baby?" you turn around to look at him, and he swears he stopped breathing for a second. how can someone get more beautiful every time he sees them?

"can you help me? i can't zip my dress on my own." you say, delicate hands still trying to reach for the zipper behind you.

before you could struggle anymore, sunghoon is behind you, calloused fingers pressing against the small of your back as his other hand reaches for the zipper.

he's careful as he zips up your dress, not missing the opportunity to let his fingertips brush against your spine, a reminder of the times he's had you in this exact position.

he finally zips it to the top, fixing your hair back to how you styled it before pressing a kiss on your temple.

"you look so beautiful."

"but I can't wait to see this dress on the floor later."

sunoo

the stress of the world had been getting to the both of you, so when sunoo recommended a self care day, you couldn't turn it down.

sunoo stood behind you in the shower, fingers making soothing patterns in your hair as he massages the shampoo into your scalp. you can't help but lean into him, body relaxing.

once done, he turns and lets you do the same. your shower is filled with kind words, back scratches, and passionate kisses that said everything the both of you were too tired to say verbally.

you both hop out, helping eachother dry off and lotion up, before throwing on your robes and heading to your mirror to do face masks.

you dont miss the opportunity to take some cute pictures to savor this memory among the many you've already created. once the face masks are off, sunoo offers to give you a massage to release the tension you've built up throughout the week.

you quickly nod, letting him work his hands into your calves before making his way up to your thighs. you don't miss the way his fingers accidentally or intentionally graze against your bare body, but pay no mind to it.

you guys later doze off in eachothers arms, bodies still bare in the night.

jungwon

you and jungwon make it to the roof of the building just as the city grew quiet. jungwon layed out the blanket and snacks he brought before getting comfy and patting the spat between his legs.

you get comfy in his embrace, letting the heat of his body warm you.

you guys watch as the lit city becomes even brighter now that night has fallen, until your eyes wander up to the sky, trying to make constellations out of nothing.

"that's definitely a strawberry..." jungwon says matter of factly.

you shake your head, munching on a cookie he baked just for this occasion. "nuh uh! it's clearly a puppy!" you argue back.

he tickles your sides as a rebuttal, causing you to giggle and kick your legs.

after a few moments of silence, you notice an oddly shaped pattern in the stars.

"hey, what about that one? it looks weird .." when you get no response, you call out for him, looking back.

"won?"

as you turn around, you immediately lock eyes with your lover, him staring at you as if it were you that was the night sky.

"wonnie, you're staring at me more than the stars!" jungwon just smiles before leaning in to press a passionate yet needy kiss against your lips.

you place your hand on his face to ground yourself before you guys both pull apart to catch your breath.

eventually, layers of clothes are removed, a silent thank you that the world is asleep.

niki

when you told niki you wanted to have an artsy date, he didn't expect this.

he's sitting there on a stool, wearing his usual black tanktop and sweats, hair falling so perfectly. to niki, this was just his 'around the house' look. to you, he was art and deserved to be painted.

"hold still, nik, i'm just finishing up some lines." you say, looking between him and the canvas.

you peek from behind the paper, observing him to make you get every detail. niki notices this, causing him to be extra antsy, as if he were trying to hide the fact that you make him nervous.

"riki, don't make me come over there and tie you down." you say, warning him.

"jokes on you, i might like that!" he says as he wiggles his eyebrows, earning an eye roll from you.

you continue working for another 10 minutes before finally setting your paint brush down.

your paint covered hands fold together as you admire your work, and niki rushes over to you to see it, his eyes lighting up.

"you even painted my beauty marks. i thought you'd forget those.." he says, eyes darting as if they couldn't decide whether to look at you or the canvas.

"I've worked on memorizing the pattern of those marks every night to go to sleep. i could never forget."

niki swears he just fell more in love with you.

he takes your hands in his, not minding the paint, as he brings them up to his lips. he then takes his finger, dipping it in some of the remaining paint.

"i think it's my turn to paint you."

a/n: hi

[motthe]

there's no death here | robert "bob" reynolds [part 2]

warnings: childhood trauma, bit of blood, secondhand embarrassment maybe???

masterlist | ao3

Bob didn't know what to expect when Bucky mentioned a friend of his being able to help with his “weird mind power stuff.”

Said friend being a woman, Bob wasn’t sure if that made things easier or not. Opening up to anyone felt forbidden these days. That and the team knew how to deal with his bad days. He would have to see someone react to him for the first time all over again.

One thing Bob was sure about was that he would feel a hell of a lot worse hurting a woman if this training didn't go well.

Then you walked off the elevator, and he quickly realized he couldn't save face around you. For one, you held yourself like every other hero in his life. If there was a weakness, he couldn’t pinpoint it, and you held more confidence in one finger than he’d ever had in his entire life.

And second, you were beautiful. It had been a fact even from a distance, but then you held his hand without fear, and you’d smiled bright enough it blinded him for a good second.

Training the psychic side meant you were going to see every molecule of shit that ever existed in his head. There was nothing he was going to be able to hide from you. But if you weren’t running for the hills after everything you’d heard in his head the first day, then maybe there was a chance.

Bucky also mentioned all the lowlives you’d had to needle your way through to get evidence for detectives. When you said you’d seen the worst of the worst, you had meant it, and while Bob never once thought of himself as a good or even useful person, he could at least feel a bit better about himself when compared to a serial killer.

He had done bad things, but he'd never wanted to do them intentionally.

‘“So, h-how is all of this going to work?”

It was his second day meeting with you and after the storm of introductions with the rest of the team, one too many comments from Walker, and a strange look of respect passing between you and Yelena, this was the first time he’d ever been alone with you. There was no Bucky to look to for second opinions, no one to step in if something went wrong—

“Nothing is going to go wrong.”

His attention zipped to you as you sipped from a to-go coffee cup. “Um, can you warn me when you’re going to…you know?”

“I’m not reading your mind,” you said, tongue catching a stray drop on the corner of your lips.

Thank God, he thought and you winced like someone had blasted music in your ears. You made some vague hand gesture before the line in your brow relaxed.

“You’re projecting,” you said. “I told you, you're loud. But I can block you out. It just takes some fine tuning I don’t usually have to do with others.”

“So I’m just shouting everything?” he whispered, horrified.

You shook your head. “Not always. It’s bits and pieces. When you’re worried or excited the volume builds. It's like if you were ranting about something, y’know?”

“Can we work on that first?” he begged.

“First,” you said, clearly amused, “we have to get comfortable with one another. When I skirt around your head, you’re guarded in some places and open in others. You have to get used to being completely open with me before I can teach you to close yourself off.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “You’re going to have to see a lot of messed up stuff. I know you already have but still.”

“I’ll apologize as well,” you laughed, “because it’s going to go both ways. You’re going to see as much of me as I will of you, but that’s part of the process of building mental shields.”

“But if I’m able to get in—”

“You've done a great job keeping it under control so far,” you told him. “From what I read, you only see glimpses before you or your target breaks away.”

“I don’t want to even do that, though.”

“Well, in order to learn how to not do that, I have to see how you even do it in the first place.” You lifted your hand, palm facing up as you twiddled your fingers at him. “Let’s see what you bring out.”

He shook his head, sinking further into his chair. What happened to building up to his despicable magic trick? This was only day two. “I don’t think that's a good idea. Aren't we supposed to meditate or build the whole mind barrier thing by imagining bricks?”

“We’ll get there,” you promised, sipping your drink again. “For now, let’s level the playing field. You’re embarrassed and scared of all the things I know already. This will let you learn about me a bit.”

“What I make you see—” he tried again.

“I know. Trust me, I can handle it,” you swore, eyes hardened with certitude. “Now, come on in, Bob. The door’s open.”

He wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t curious about what shames you had floating around in your past, but baring yourself open as easily as you were… How were you okay with that? Would he learn where that came from while you were teaching him?

He closed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to put you through the worst times of your life.

“Please, Bob. You trusted me to try yesterday. I need that again.”

“I know,” he whispered, straightening his shoulders as he looked you in the eye. “I just don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

There was that smile again. Radiant, he thought and you huffed on a laugh. Shit.

“I’m not afraid,” you promised.

He swallowed and reached out a hand. “You will be.”

A wall of darkness crashed over your mind. The ground fell out from under you, sending your heart off rhythm. Your first reaction was to ground yourself, but you fought it, allowing Bob’s presence to wash over you and drag you into whatever memory his power clung to.

Opening your eyes, you sucked your teeth at the sight of that old, wooden dining room table. You were four, doing your best to get around the food on your plate as your mother sat opposite of you. The dining room had that powdery smell of youth.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes watering as the grief claimed you. She was alive and breathing again and you were about to see the beginning of her spiral. But you had prepared for that.

“You don’t have to hide, Bob,” you called, sensing him nearby. “Come here.”

He stepped up on your right, eyes glued to the scene before looking at you. “You’re so young.”

“I was,” you agreed, frowning at the expressions flickering over your mother’s face. She looked a mess, clothes ragged on her frame and eyes darting around the room before settling on you, scowling at your plate.

“Baby, eat your food, please,” she called quietly.

“Don’t want to.”

You drowned the conversation out as you turned to Bob. “Your powers seem to pick shame from the beginning.”

“Never this young,” he whispered, eyes round as he looked at your toddler self.

“I was born with my powers. I couldn't control them back then,” you explained, wincing as your mother began to yell. You held a hand up, silencing the scene.

“How did you…?” He looked between your hand and the environment in awe.

“You can’t block my powers even when I’m in the midst of yours. That's interesting,” you hummed. Your heart squeezed in your chest as your mother threw herself to the floor, clawing at her head as your child self ran to her, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“What happened?” he asked, voice shaking.

“I projected a lot. Like you do now,” you explained, grabbing your upper arm as your mother’s hand found the butter knife on the floor and slashed. “She thought she was going insane and then she did.”

Bob turned away as your toddler self began to bleed, crawling away and screaming into silence. “I don’t want to see this.”

“Then don’t,” you told him. “Pull out of it.”

“I can’t just do things like you can!” he said, panic rising.

“Focus. Take a breath.” You eyed the scene as it started over from the top. Another thing to note. “You latched on to this memory. Let it go.”

“How?” His breath was picking up.

“Can I touch you?” you asked. The question seemed to confuse him for a second before he nodded. You grabbed his arms and turned him away from the dining room, getting his full attention on you. “Feel my hands?”

“Uh, yeah,” he murmured, bobbing his head.

“You’re feeling that with your mind. This isn’t real.”

“It was real," he breathed, watery.

“And now it’s done,” you stated gently. “Can’t be changed. I'll always regret what I did to my mother, but I was a kid. There was nothing I could do.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, hands folding back over yours as he took a slow breath. “Okay.”

“Feel the floor under your feet. You’ve grounded yourself to this memory. Now you just have unground.”

He looked down, expression pinching as he fought to focus. You couldn’t help but laugh as he jumped.

“With your mind,” you repeated.

“This is my mind!” he said, voice shrill and eyes wide as he met yours. “God, what if we’re stuck?”

“We’re not stuck,” you promised, squeezing his hands. “Here, I’ll do it. Maybe you’ll be able to feel it.”

Honing in on the sensations around you, you followed them back to your core, centering your focus on yourself and Bob. With a slow breath, you let that shield snap over the two of you, forcing the darkness back.

There was a split second as you trailed out of Bob's mental snare. You couldn't be sure, but somewhere on the horizon of your consciousness melding with his there was a…mass. A dark blotch.

And when you noticed it, there was no way to hide when it noticed you back.

A gasp of air split your lips. Back to reality, you two were still at the table in the Watchtower. Bob blinked opposite of you, his fingers skimming your palm. The shield you'd propped over both of you was still intact—that mental bond pulsing.

“How did she do that?”

Lots and lots of practice, you answered him, making yourself known in his head. Feel this? That’s how you’ll know I’m in your head.

He made a distressed expression that had you snorting. His head turned from side to side, reminiscent of a cat with a medical cone on for the first time. He wasn't sure what to do with a second presence melded to his. “Oh, weird. Okay. That feels so weird. I don't know if I like this.”

Yeah, not very comfortable. You want me to leave?

“Yeah, just, well, lemme try to get used to it for a second. So weird, what the fuck?”

You covered your face with your hand to try to find a semblance of professionalism, but it was impossible with the faces he made and the stream of thoughts filtering through.

I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing.

“I'd rather you be laughing than running, screaming out of the room. It's embarrassing, but it's not the worst.”

If it makes you feel any better, I'm not a professional in any shape or form. Bob's head tilted as he stared through the table. There was a brush against your mind. I'll make mistakes trying to figure out the best way to teach you what I know—oh, hi. That's me.

“You’re warm,” he replied aloud, squinting as he zeroed in. You made a point to retreat back a bit in case you ended up back in a shame room. His eyes flickered up to yours. “I feel you moving around. Is this how you see stuff?”

You nodded, a bit flustered at the feeling of his consciousness circling yours. He learned fast. “I’m not actively looking right now, just making my presence known. Careful, you press any further and you'll get my subconscious thoughts again.”

He shuddered as you pulled away from his mind completely. Your mind barrier went up for both his privacy and yours.

"Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

“No, its fine, just...so weird.” His nose wrinkled as he said it.

“Yeah, I've heard that before,” you scoffed, smiling into your drink. The way he grinned back, it weighed in one corner—the same side he turned into to avoid eye contact. “You have any questions for me after all that?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, that sweet smile dropping as he bit at his lip. “You…felt something when we left the shame room. How did I feel that? And what was it?”

“My shield connected us. I wanted to bring you out with me instead of pushing you out. Would've been a bit rude since I asked you to show me.” You fiddled with the cup sleeve, leaning back into your chair. “As for what I felt, I don't want to assume anything but seeing as I sensed it as much as it sensed me…”

“Did it scare you?” he asked.

“No, but I didn't expect to run into Void this soon. Does it always sit on the outer edges like that?”

Bob shrugged. “On good days, yeah. But he's always around. A voice in the back of my head.”

“Tell me about him,” you murmured. “I've read what others think of him, but I want your input.”

“He's just…bad.” Bob shook his head, hands rubbing over his jeans. “Everything messed up or wrong in me, he feeds on it. He spits it back out on the bad days and tries to overwhelm me? I guess?”

“Does he try to get out often?”

His hair swayed as his head shook again. “More like when I'm weakest.”

“Weakest mentally? What about physically?” Bob shrugged, looking put off by the questions. “I'm not trying to overstep, I just need to understand as much as possible. They say he's your alter ego, that he's separate from you.”

“I mean, that's not wrong but I don't know if that's right either.”

You made a mental note. “Would you call him a parasite?”

“No.”

You raised a brow, amazed at the certainty. “Why? You said he feeds on you.”

There was a twist in his face, a flash of molten something in his eyes as he shook his head. “Sorry. Um, I don't know. I, uh…”

You slowly reached back out to his mind, gentle as you weighed against him. It's okay. We can stop here for today.

“Sorry,” he breathed, shoulders sinking. “He's louder now. I think we pissed him off.”

“Yeah, that'll probably be happening a lot from now on,” you chuckled, standing to throw your empty cup away. There was no trash can in your immediate view. “If you ever need help, I'm good at blocking things out for a time. I don't know if that would make things worse, but it's worth a shot, right?”

He surprised you with a weak laugh, clearing his throat as you turned. “Sorry. I know you said you weren't a professional, I just didn't expect this to be casual.”

You weren't sure how else you could have been. The stuff you both would be dealing with, well, you'd be getting personal with a whole lot in a very short amount of time. That's why you and Wanda were so close as well as Nat. One wanted you to learn your powers on a spiritual level, and the other wanted you to be able to steel your mind when chaos came knocking.

Hopefully, with Bob you could be that anchor they had become for you.

“I'm definitely not the strict and unemotional type,” you agreed with him. “As dangerous as all this could be, it's a breath of fresh air compared to what I was doing, so. Thanks for wanting me to help.”

There was that shy little grin of his again. You hoped, maybe after a few weeks or less, it wouldn't be as rare to see.

[chansdoll]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ현진ㅤㅤ♡ㅤㅤnot just friendsㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

★ pairing。nonidol!hyunjin x afab!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎g. ╰・  angst , smut‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw。 unprotected sex , oral (f. receiving) , they're in love your honor wc。 4.3k

lana's note!  ᰍᩚ this is kinda like a friends to lovers type thing except it starts late in the situationship phase, idk what this is tbh, i got bored and thought of it

♡ masterlist

it was a typical friday night, the kind of party everyone in your class had been buzzing about for days. a packed house, music pulsing through the walls, the air thick with alcohol and the sharp bite of too many cheap colognes. you were there, perched on the worn-out couch in the sunroom with your friends, half-listening as they gushed over the guys at the party. the room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from a few tangled strings of fairy lights that flickered unevenly, casting soft shadows across the walls.

you wanted to be here—at least, that’s what you told yourself. you liked the distraction, the way alcohol dulled the edges of emotions you refused to acknowledge. lately, those emotions had been clawing at your chest, threatening to spill over, and drinking was the only thing that kept them at bay. you weren’t about to let yourself feel, not when feeling meant risking getting hurt again.

then, as if on cue, he walked in.

hyunjin.

your heart lurched the second your eyes landed on him, a cruel reminder of something you wanted but could never have. he strolled in effortlessly, his presence commanding attention without even trying, flanked by felix and changbin. his dark eyes swept over the room, taking in the scene, and then—inevitably—they found you.

you didn’t think. you just acted. without hesitation, you tipped your glass back, downing the rest of your drink in one go. the burn of the alcohol was nothing compared to the ache in your chest, the one that only seemed to grow stronger every time he was near. you needed more. more to drink, more distance, more anything to push away the emotions threatening to surface.

hyunjin noticed. of course, he did.

he didn’t say anything right away, but you felt his eyes on you—watching, assessing. he always had this way of looking at you, like he was trying to solve a puzzle only he could see. he could tell something was wrong, that you were struggling, but he didn’t know why.

and you weren’t about to let him find out.

for years, you and hyunjin had been inseparable. what started as a simple friendship—born from long nights studying together, laughing over inside jokes, and supporting each other through the highs and lows of life—evolved into something deeper, something unspoken. he was your safe place, and you were his. but neither of you ever crossed that line, both too scared to risk what you had.

then, everything changed.

a few months ago, you went through a painful breakup, one that left you reeling. you had trusted, loved, and given your heart away—only to have it shattered. the pain made you wary, hesitant to let anyone get too close again. and hyunjin, ever the patient friend, had been there for you through it all. he never pushed, never asked for more than you could give. he just stayed.

but one night, after too many drinks and too many lingering stares, you found yourself in his arms in a way you never had before. it wasn’t just a moment of weakness—it was comfort, desperation, need. what was supposed to be a one-time thing became something neither of you could walk away from. it started with stolen kisses behind closed doors, tangled sheets, and hushed promises of this doesn’t mean anything. but as the weeks passed, something shifted.

the sex turned softer, more intimate. he would press lingering kisses to your temple, trace gentle patterns on your skin afterward. you would wake up in his bed, wrapped in his warmth, and pretend you didn’t crave staying longer. it was dangerous—because the more time you spent wrapped up in hyunjin, the harder it became to deny what was happening between you.

but you had to deny it.

because falling for him meant opening yourself up again. and after what you had been through, you weren’t sure you could survive that kind of heartbreak twice.

so you pushed him away. again. and again.

but hyunjin wasn’t stupid. he saw through every excuse, every attempt to put distance between you. he knew you felt it too—knew you were running from something real. and no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart ached every time you saw him.

and now, as your eyes met his, from across the kitchen, the ache in your chest grew. 

it didn’t take long for you to get tipsy enough to crave hyunjin’s touch—his warmth, his presence—and he welcomed you with open arms. before you knew it, you were stumbling into a bedroom upstairs, hands everywhere, lips colliding in desperate, messy kisses.

his fingers dug into your waist, pulling you closer, and you clutched at his shirt, tugging at the fabric until it bunched against his ribs. he broke the kiss just long enough to yank it over his head, tossing it aside before his mouth crashed back to yours—hot and needy.

“you look so good tonight,” he muttered, voice low and breathless against your lips. his hands slid down to your hips, guiding you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

you barely remembered falling onto the mattress—all you remembered was the way hyunjin followed, crawling over you with that same hunger burning in his eyes. his lips moved down your neck, biting and kissing and tasting while your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer.

everything blurred—clothes tugged and tossed aside, warm skin pressed against yours. your breaths mingled in the charged air, messy and uneven.

he kissed down your body, his mouth hot and teasing as he moved lower. you gasped when his lips ghosted over your inner thigh, and then you moaned outright when he pressed a lingering kiss to your mound.

“hyun—” you whined, but your words melted into a sharp gasp when his tongue met your clit. he licked you like he was savoring you, dragging his tongue in slow, deliberate circles before closing his lips around your most sensitive spot. a deep groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against you. he was lost in it—lost in you—his hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep you from squirming away.

“fuck—oh my god,” you gasped, clutching at the sheets as the pressure in your core built rapidly. his fingers flexed harder against your skin, his nails digging into your flesh, and your body tensed.

“i’m—shit, i’m cumming,” you cried out, your body shaking violently as the pleasure crashed over you.

he didn’t stop—not right away. he kept licking, sucking, savoring every bit of you until the overstimulation forced you to gently push his head away. even then, he lingered, leaving a messy kiss against your soaked folds before rising to his feet.

his cock was heavy in his boxers, the outline thick and prominent as he hurriedly shoved the fabric down. he crawled over you again, kissing you roughly—hungry, like he needed this, needed you.

“you’re driving me insane,” he rasped against your lips, his hand fumbling to spread your thighs wider. his cock bobbed against your slick entrance, and you reached down, guiding him inside you.

he pushed in slowly, groaning low in his throat as you stretched around him. the feeling was overwhelming—the heat, the weight of him pressed so perfectly against you.

it started fast and frantic—hips grinding together in messy desperation. you clung to him, his skin warm and slick beneath your fingertips, both of you chasing something primal and raw. but somewhere in the haze of it all, something shifted.

his kisses deepened, slowing to something softer, something felt. his fingers laced with yours, pinning your hand beside your head as he rocked into you, deep and deliberate. his forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and shaky against your lips.

“fuck,” he groaned, voice strained like he was holding himself back. his free hand trailed along your waist, down to your thigh, where his fingers dug in just enough to ground you.

it was too much—his body against yours, the way he filled you so perfectly. the way he whispered your name, soft and reverent, like you were something precious.

your heart raced, your breath hitched, and before you could stop it, the pressure in your core unraveled once more. it rushed through you fast and hard, making your body arch beneath him.

“f-fuck,” you choked out, and then—without thinking, without meaning to—you said it.

“i love you.”

the words tumbled from your lips right as you reached your peak, your body trembling beneath him as waves of pleasure rolled through you.

hyunjin stilled for half a second, his hips stuttering before he fully realized what you had said. his breath hitched—and somehow, those three words undid him.

“shit—” his voice broke as he pushed all the way inside you, burying himself deep as his own orgasm tore through him. a string of groans left his lips, shaky and breathless, as he filled you with his release.

you barely registered the warmth spreading inside you—you were too lost in your own head, panic settling in like ice beneath your skin. you clung to him, your breath unsteady, trying to ignore the weight of what had just slipped out.

you couldn’t take it back.

and somehow, that terrified you more than anything.

the air felt heavier now, thick with something you couldn’t name. neither of you spoke as you pulled your clothes back on—hyunjin grabbing his shirt from the floor while you reached for your dress, still crumpled on the edge of the bed.

he moved slower than usual, his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds like he was trying to find the right words. you knew what was coming—you could feel it.

“you meant it, didn’t you?” his voice was soft but certain.

you froze for a beat, fingers faltering at the zipper of your dress. “what?”

“you know what,” he said, stepping closer. “what you said before.”

you swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you do,” he insisted, his voice firm now.

“i don’t.” you turned to face him, zipping your dress the rest of the way with a sharp tug. “i was tipsy. we were... caught up in the moment. i don’t even remember half of what i said.”

it wasn’t true—you remembered everything. the way his body felt against yours, the warmth of his breath, the way the words had just spilled out before you could stop them. but admitting that? no chance.

hyunjin scoffed softly, raking a hand through his hair. “sure,” he muttered, his tone dry. “whatever you say.”

“yeah,” you snapped, grabbing your purse from the nightstand. “whatever i say.”

you knew you were being cold, but you couldn’t stop yourself. it was easier to shut him out than to face what had just happened. because if you did—if you let yourself feel it—you knew you’d fall too hard. and after everything you’d been through, that was a risk you couldn’t take.

“are you coming?” you asked, barely sparing him a glance before heading for the door.

hyunjin didn’t answer right away. but when you reached the hallway, you heard his footsteps behind you, following you back to the party like nothing had happened.

only it had. and you knew there was no running from it for long.

the next day, hyunjin sent you a text:

hey. wanna grab coffee?

you stared at the message for a long time, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. you typed out a few responses—sure, i can’t, i’m sorry—but you deleted them all. nothing felt right.

you felt awful. awful for how you snapped at him, awful for pretending like nothing had happened, and even worse for how scared you were. scared of opening up, scared of hurting him, scared of getting hurt yourself. you couldn’t risk that. not again.

so, for the first time since you and hyunjin had been friends, you turned off your read receipts.

and of course, he noticed.

hyunjin lay on his dorm bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen like he could will a reply out of you. his text still sat unread, no confirmation that you’d seen it. he knew you were acting cold—he wasn’t stupid. ever since that night, you’d been distant, avoiding eye contact, cutting conversations short, disappearing whenever he walked into a room.

he knew you were dealing with things—your breakup had left you guarded, pulling away from everyone who tried to get close. but he thought he was different. he thought he was helping.

the next evening, he found himself wandering to one of the campus cafés—somewhere you both used to go all the time. it was crowded, filled with clusters of students cramming for exams or killing time between classes.

and that’s when he saw you.

you were tucked into the corner by the window, sitting across from some guy hyunjin didn’t recognize. he looked your age, maybe a little older, with an easy smile that made hyunjin’s stomach churn.

he watched from a distance, eyes narrowing as the guy leaned closer, whispering something that made you laugh—actually laugh. the sound made hyunjin’s chest tighten.

his mind raced. maybe this was nothing—just some classmate, someone you bumped into. but the way you smiled... the way you twirled your straw between your fingers, leaning in just a little closer... it felt different.

he told himself it wasn’t a big deal, that you were allowed to spend time with whoever you wanted.

but deep down, it felt like he was losing you.

hyunjin was standing near the counter, waiting for his order. he was dressed casually—sweatpants and a hoodie—but he still managed to stand out.

your heart dropped.

for a second, you just stared. he looked tired, his face drawn in a way that made guilt gnaw at your insides. his phone was in his hand, his thumb flicking over the screen like he was checking for something—checking for you.

when he finally looked up, your eyes locked.

your breath hitched.

his gaze hardened, just slightly, his face unreadable. you knew that look—it was the one he gave when he was hurt but refused to show it.

the guy across from you kept talking, laughing at his own joke, but you couldn’t hear a word of it. hyunjin’s eyes flicked from you to the guy sitting at your table, and something in his expression shifted—a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place.

you dropped your gaze, suddenly unable to hold it. your fingers curled around your drink, knuckles going white from how tightly you gripped it.

“you okay?” the guy asked, finally noticing your sudden silence.

“yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile that felt thin and strained. “i’m fine.”

the soft glow of the moonlight slipped through the blinds, casting faint shadows across the room. you stared up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the night pressing against your chest. the silence was suffocating, and yet your thoughts wouldn’t let you escape.

tossing onto your side, you tugged the blanket tighter around yourself, the heat from your body offering no comfort. your mind refused to quiet. you couldn’t stop thinking about him — about hyunjin.

it wasn’t supposed to be this way. you weren’t supposed to feel so lost. so fucking confused. you had been fine before, or at least, you thought you were. you hadn’t expected to fall into something like this with him.

you let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding beneath your ribs. you were afraid — of what, exactly, you weren’t even sure. afraid of letting him in, afraid of loving him, afraid of not being good enough to keep him. every time you let yourself get close to him, the fear crept in, and now it had spiraled into this mess of misunderstandings and regrets.

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shut out the thoughts, but they only grew louder. you had pushed him away. you had hurt him, and now... now you were ruining everything. your friendship with hyunjin, the one thing that had been consistent in your life, was slipping through your fingers. you were scared. so scared of what he might mean to you, what you might mean to him.

the tears came unbidden, hot and fast. you rolled onto your back, unable to control the sobs that wracked your chest. you thought of all the things you should have said to him, of how he looked at you that night, how his warmth had felt like the one thing that made you feel whole.

but you pushed him away. you always pushed people away.

you reached for your phone, desperate for a distraction. maybe scrolling through your gallery would give you something to focus on, anything to get you out of your head.

your thumb swiped through the photos — random things at first. selfies from random nights out, pictures of your friends, screenshots of texts that no longer seemed relevant. then you saw them. the ones with hyunjin.

you paused, your thumb frozen over the screen. your breath caught in your throat as your eyes traced the photos. the first one was a silly selfie the two of you had taken during one of those late-night study sessions. he had made a face, pulling a stupid expression, and you had laughed so hard you almost cried. the memory of his laughter filled your chest, and you let out a shaky sigh.

then there was the one from that night at his place. you remembered it so clearly — your faces so close, your smiles so real. he had kissed you right after that photo, and you had felt a rush of something deep in your chest, something that made your stomach flutter. you had felt seen, wanted.

but you weren’t ready for that.

another swipe.

this time, a picture of the two of you on the couch after a party. your bodies were close, his arm draped over your shoulders. you were looking at each other, and in that look, you saw something more than just friendship. it scared you, that look. you couldn’t handle it. you couldn’t handle him. you had to keep your distance, even if it meant hurting him.

you scrolled further, and the next picture stopped your heart. it was taken the last time the two of you had been alone together. the photo was intimate, suggestive — you both had been fooling around, your faces flushed with desire. it wasn’t a moment of passion, not like you had imagined when you thought about what you two might become. it was a mess of emotions, blurred lines, and you had let it happen. you had let him in, even when you told yourself you never would.

you should have stopped it.

you should have never let yourself fall into this.

you closed your eyes, and suddenly, the weight of everything hit you all at once. your chest tightened, your breathing shallow as you clutched the phone to your chest. you ruined it. you ruined everything.

you were never enough. you were never going to be enough.

the tears started again, harder this time, as the realization crushed you. you had pushed him away, scared of your own feelings, and now you were paying the price. you had been so selfish, so afraid of letting yourself want him.

and now you had lost him.

the quiet of your dorm room seemed to mock you as you sat there, body shaking with sobs. you had pushed him to the point where he probably wouldn’t even look at you the same way anymore. you had destroyed the one thing that had meant something to you, and no matter how much you wanted to fix it, you couldn’t.

you ruined it.

you ruined him.

the bass thumped through the walls of the campus bar, the low vibrations buzzing against your chest. your friends’ laughter rang out beside you, but you barely heard it — your mind had been clouded all night. the drink in your hand had grown warm, condensation pooling under your fingertips.

you were trying — really trying — to forget. to drown out the memories of hyunjin’s touch, his voice, the way he looked at you before you pushed him away. but no amount of alcohol could drown out what was festering inside you.

and then you saw him.

hyunjin was at the far end of the bar, his elbow braced against the counter, swirling his drink in his hand. his hair was damp — maybe from the rain outside, maybe from sweat — but he still looked too good. his jaw was tight, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. he looked... off.

your stomach flipped. he hadn’t seen you yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time.

"i need some air," you muttered to your friends, barely registering their response as you grabbed your bag and moved quickly toward the exit.

but you weren’t fast enough.

"y/n?"

his voice cut through the noise like a knife.

panic shot through you, your heart racing. you didn’t turn around — couldn’t. you shoved through the crowd, weaving between bodies until you finally stumbled out the front door and into the cold night.

rain poured from the sky, cold droplets clinging to your skin as you rushed down the sidewalk. your breath hitched, your chest tightening. you just needed to get away — far enough that the guilt would stop clawing at you, far enough that hyunjin wouldn’t follow.

but he did.

"y/n!"

his voice rang out behind you, sharp and angry. you heard the fast steps of his shoes slapping against wet pavement.

"stop!"

you didn’t stop — you couldn’t. your pulse thundered in your ears, but suddenly his hand grabbed your arm, jerking you back.

"what the hell is your problem?" his voice was tight, breathless, but unmistakably angry. his hair clung to his forehead, strands dripping with rain. "are you just gonna keep running from me forever?"

"hyunjin, let go," you said weakly, but your voice wavered.

"no." his grip didn’t tighten, but he didn’t let go. "you’ve been avoiding me for days. i texted you, i called you — hell, i’ve been waiting for you to just say something. but instead, i see you here — acting like none of it ever happened. like i don’t even fucking exist."

"i can’t do this," you whispered, voice barely audible over the rain. you pulled your arm from his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself like it could hold you together. "i just... i can’t."

"why?" his voice cracked. "why are you doing this? did i... did i do something wrong?"

you shook your head, swallowing hard. "no. no, it’s not you, i just..." you trailed off, words dying on your tongue.

"then what is it?" hyunjin’s voice rose again, frustration bubbling to the surface. "i know you feel something for me. don’t tell me you don’t — you wouldn’t have said what you said if you didn’t."

your stomach twisted painfully. "i don’t know what you’re talking about."

"bullshit," he snapped. "we are not just friends. we are not just friends, and you fucking know it."

the words hit you like a punch to the chest. your breath faltered, and you took a shaky step back, your shoes splashing in a shallow puddle.

"i didn’t mean to—"

"yes, you did!" his voice broke this time — less sharp, more desperate. "you said you loved me. i heard you. and i know you meant it. so why are you running from me like i’m some kind of mistake?"

your throat tightened painfully. tears blurred your vision, mixing with the rain streaking down your face.

"because i’m scared!" the words burst out of you before you could stop them. your voice cracked, your chest heaving. "i’m scared of getting hurt, i’m scared of losing you — and i’m scared i’ll ruin everything because that’s what i do."

"you’re not going to lose me," he said quietly. his voice was softer now, gentler — but there was still a tremor in it. "i just... i don’t understand why you won’t let me in. why do you think you have to do this alone?"

"because i’ll hurt you!" you choked out. "i’ll mess this up, hyunjin. you deserve someone better — someone who isn’t so... so broken."

"don’t do that." his voice was firm, but not angry — raw, almost pleading. "don’t tell me what i deserve. i know what i want."

he stepped closer, his fingers brushing your wrist again, more tentative this time — like he wasn’t sure you’d let him.

"i want you."

a sob tore from your throat, and before you could stop yourself, you were stepping forward, crashing into him. your hands fisted into the soaked fabric of his jacket, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

his arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you in tight — like he’d been waiting for you to do this. you didn’t know who kissed who first — all you knew was that his lips were on yours, hard and desperate. the kiss was messy, rain-slicked and breathless, but neither of you seemed to care.

"i’m sorry," you whispered against his mouth, the words spilling out between kisses. "i’m so sorry."

"don’t be," he murmured back, his fingers curling at the nape of your neck, holding you closer. "just... please don’t push me away anymore."

for a moment, you stayed like that — tangled in each other’s arms, the rain washing over you both. whatever tension had been hanging in the air seemed to crack and fall away, replaced by something heavier yet somehow lighter at the same time. and as hyunjin pressed one more lingering kiss to your forehead, you realized something — maybe you’d been wrong. 

maybe love wasn’t about avoiding pain; maybe it was about trusting someone enough to hold your heart, even when you were scared they might break it.

taglist: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin @tirena1 @geni-627 @bbokvhs @wavetohannie

[blackynsupremacy]

SO INTO YOU

pairing: older!smallville!clark kent x black!fem!reader

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

summary: you and clark forget about the world as you indulge in each other on your honeymoon.

contains: 18+ content (mdni), smut, fluff, established relationship, reader and clark are newlyweds, l bombs, romance, oral (f receiving), praise kink, slight size kink, vanilla, missionary, implied unprotected lovemaking, squirting, i love welling clark but reader can imagine any clark they like!

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @miguelspvssy @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @afrogirl3005 @afrowrites @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @ellethespaceunicorn

a/n: i swear imma get in requests! whenever i’m on pinterest i get a blurb i gotta write before i forget.

“hah, finally.”

clark kent sighed in content. your soft giggles were music to his ears as he carefully stepped over the threshold while holding you like precious cargo into the luxury italian suite that was graciously gifted to you both by lex luthor for your nuptials. the happiness you were both feeling was beyond words as you were just officially pronounced as husband and wife before your loved ones within the metropolis chapel. after a few hours of dancing and merriment at the reception, you and clark flew off to start your happily ever after in the beautiful city of venice. he smoothly kicked the door closed with one foot, never taking his eyes off of you when he placed you down to the stand on the ground. it was around seven in the evening when you landed, making the dim lit glow of the ivory and gold decor in the suite irresistible to pull your eyes from. you definitely weren’t in smallville, kansas anymore. you take clark’s hand within yours, slightly dragging him to peruse the area. you saw lex like a fairy godmother of sorts as he had exquisite tastes and boy, did it feel like you stepped in a fairy tale.

“oh, clark. can you believe this is ours? this is just—beautiful.” you confessed in pure awe. clark silently agreed, his blue eyes darting briefly around the room, but they can’t help to gravitate towards your figure. your ivory white corset dress that beautifully contrasted the melanated shade of your skin fit your body so perfectly that clark couldn’t wait another moment to remove the garment. he deliberately sauntered towards you, his large hands take ahold of your waist to press you closer to him. given his tall six foot stature, he leans down, so that his rose lips could press a kiss to the soft skin of your earlobe.

“that’s true, but it doesn’t compare to the beauty of my wife.” he whispered in a low voice and gripped tight tighter to your waist. clark felt a rush of joy course through his veins when he mentioned your new title. he couldn’t have been luckier to be with you in this moment. with the exception of a green rock, you were his true weakness. a sigh of his name escapes from your lips when his meet the warm, brown skin of your jawline to leave a trail of kisses against the bone before they descend to your neck. each kiss causes your skin to be ridden with goosebumps. he pulls his lips away momentarily and one of his large hands ascend from your waist, trailing smoothly over your chest for his palm to lay flat against your neck. the cold medal of his wedding band on your skin increases your excitement as clark pushes your neck backwards slowly for your head to lean. his face comes closer to yours for both of your lips to finally lock within each other. as they move in sync, you hold yourself together by bringing your hands up behind you, tangling your fingers in the plush, dark jungle of his hair. without breaking your lips from his, he swiftly turns you around and picks you up within his arms again, so that he could properly locate you to the master bedroom. clark lays your body down on cream, satin duvet where he temporarily pulls his mouth away from yours to just silently take in every part of what’s before him.

ever since your adolescence, you’d always held a deep respect for each other. as time passed, that respect slowly turned to admiration, transforming into the deep, true love you found in each other to this day. clark couldn’t count on his fingers the time that you’ve been there for him at his lowest. you never turned away from him when he revealed his powers or the time that he ran away from home. it had always been—you. the mere thought of you makes him almost grateful that he crashed down to earth on that fateful day in the fall of eighty-nine. you’d notice that clark had been silent for far too long, you’ve always been used to his lingering, blue eyes, but now you were starting to feel awkward as the desire for your new husband grew hungrier with each passing second,

“clark, baby, are you okay?” you softly inquire, your hands cupping the sides of his jaw as your fingers glide along his sculpted, blushing face. you beam with a small smile, you knew now that the feeling was indeed mutual.

“i don’t know if you know this, but i love what you do to me.” he pauses to press your lips in a searing kiss to pull away and resume speaking, “i love you—all of you.” you whine, pulling him down to take his lips to yours again, this time you let your tongue intrude into his mouth in which he graciously accepts by sensually intertwining the two together. you moan, bucking your hips into his direction, letting him know that your patience was running thin. you take your lips away from his, pushing any disheveled hair from his forehead to clearly peer into his eyes.

“i need you, clark—make love to me, please.” clark observed as you squirm, propping your legs up on each side of his hips, your thighs spread wider to signify of you both taking your relationship to a whole new level. clark’s breath hitched at your words, the urgency in your voice igniting a fire within him. he responded by leaning down and capturing your lips in another slow, passionate kiss that sent shivers down your spine. as he deepened the kiss, his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour. he doesn’t forget sneak his hands down to your ass to reward it with a tight squeeze. the more he touched, the more you felt the white lacy underwear you had on seep in your arousal. you melted into him, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath your fingertips as you traced the outline of his shoulders beneath the fabric of the pristine button up, where your fingers succeed in their search to find and unravel each button.

“are you ready?” he murmured against your lips, his voice a mix of tenderness, hunger, and longing. “because once i start, i don’t think i’ll want to stop.” his blue eyes searched yours, wanting to ensure that this was what you truly wanted, but god, he’s practically waited years for this moment to come. your body was practically screaming “hell yes!”, but being the gentleman that jonathan and martha raised, your consent mattered, whether you’re his wife or not.

you nodded, your heart racing with anticipation, knowing that he can hear it clearly. “yes, clark, that’s the point—i don’t want you to stop. give it to me, baby.” you hastily replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“whatever you want—mrs. kent.” you bite your lip as your new name rolls off of his tongue so smoothly. he sits up to finish the job of unbuttoning his shirt before shrugging it off his shoulders to reveal the beautifully sculpted body that you swear gets more muscular. those long days of farm work over the years had seriously worked in his favor. clark sits you up, so that he could finally unzip your dress. you allow him to swiftly pull it away from your body before you take turns to discard the rest of your clothing until you’re completely bare before each other. clark is instantly mesmerized by your true form and he lays you back down again on the bed, his eyes never ceasing to inspect of what he thought was the most beautiful body in the entire galaxy.

“you are—breathtaking.” he proclaimed, the heat of embarrassment rises on your face. clark’s large body loomed over yours and he shifted his weight, at last positioning himself between your legs. you could feel the heat of your dripping arousal intensify at the sight of him, and it made your heart race even faster. he marveled at you as one of his hands palmed against one of your breasts. you moan out his name, encouraging him to go further with his touch. he took his time, savoring every moment as he ghosted his mouth around the other, trailing soft kisses along your dark erected nipple before enclosing it in his warm mouth. the kryptonian hummed against the skin to create a sensual vibration, igniting every nerve in your body. he didn’t forget to alternate between the two to give them equal attention.

“mmm—clark, baby, that’s so good, but i need more.” you request, bucking up your hips. clark chuckled at your impatience, he knew exactly what you needed. he wanted this to be a perfect experience for you, but he still wanted to tease you just a little.

“where do you need me, sweetheart?” he questioned before trailing kisses along your stomach. clark’s dick grew larger when he heard you whining. “c’mon, beautiful. use your words.” he went just a little lower to your navel, swirling his tongue around the perimeter of your belly button. despite the electricity he was sending through your body, you managed to articulate your need,

“clark…” you breathed, the sound laced with desire. “need your mouth—ngh, on my pussy.”

he looked up at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “you deserve nothing less.” he said, his voice low and husky. as his head moved lower, he spread your thighs wider, spreading kisses within that area. he even lapped up a bit of overflowing arousal that stuck to your skin. clark was about to go crazy knowing that you were this wet for him and him only. he had finally reached to where you needed him, your scent of your desire drives him to cop a taste by dragging tongue in a deliver lick along your entrance to which you whimper in approval. clark immediately gets to work by swirling his tongue on your sensitive pleasure point like its a delectable piece of candy. you arch your back off the bed and your hands promptly find their way to grip onto his hair for leverage as his tongue starts to prod at your wet hole. the pad of his thumb takes care of your clit while his tongue explores deep into your pussy.

“oh, s-shit, clark. just like that, baby.” you want to clench your legs around his head to bring him closer, but he uses the strength of his elbows to keep your thighs separated, so that you could get all of what he was working with without you running away. you practically clench around his tongue, encouraging him to taste every single inch of you until you completely unravel beneath him. he brings his tongue back around your clit, giving the sloppiest of licks as if he were indulging in a melting ice cream cone, attempting to catch every drop. he drives you mad as you were still firmly planted on the bed, thighs wide open when you observe his head shaking side to side to bury himself deeper. with the little strength you have, you attempt to grind your hips. your thighs are trembling when you feel that ball of fire inside of you ready to erupt at any minute. the final straw when he takes your clit between his lips to firmly suckle on it.

“clark, m’gonna cum!”

at hearing your words, one of his hands grasps to yours, tightly intertwining your fingers.

“let go. cum for me, pretty girl. i got you.”

the movements of his tongue become more relentless as the other hand rapidly rubs on your nub to finally get you to the first of many highs for the evening. you cry out his name, arching your back and rocking your hips as you gush your liquids onto clark’s heavenly face.

“atta girl. you did so good.” he hums in appreciation by lapping up every single drop, never getting tired of the taste. he slides up to plant your lips on yours, slipping his tongue in so smoothly, so that you could enjoy the taste of yourself as he did previously. he takes your legs to wrap themselves around his waist before using his arms to prop himself up above you. as he finally aligned himself at your entrance, you gaze down and gasped at his impressive girth. he was well endowed as this wasn’t just some regular earth dick. clark paused, his gaze locked onto yours, ensuring that you were ready for this next step.

“i hope you’re ready, sweetheart. i’ll be gentle, but just let me know if it’s too much, okay? i love you.”

you nod, placing one last searing kiss to his lips.

“i trust you, clark. i love you so much more.” you say with sincerity, now gazing down again as he began to finally put your bodies together like two long lost puzzle pieces awaiting to complete the final picture.

you both shudder and sigh out in ecstasy once the tip was inside. you were made for each other. as he filled you up inch by inch, the world around you simply disappeared only leaving the rhythm of your breaths and the sound of your bodies moving in sync. every movement was a dance and every lewd vocalization was a song of celebration of your everlasting love. as husband and wife, you lost yourselves in the moment, surrendering to the bliss that enveloped you both for the rest of the night.

[paceprompting]

a ballad in translation

written for ‘sing’ | wc: 1000 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: 90s era steddie, established relationship, singer eddie, deaf steve, domestic fluff

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Eddie didn’t get home until late.

It was his own fault. They actually finished recording early, and rest of the band headed out with their unusual gift of free time. But Eddie, since they’d paid for the time anyway, stayed behind to work out some of the kinks in a song he’d been working on in secret.

Melodies and lyrics were easy enough to do in his head and on paper, but when he pulled out his sweetheart, someone always wanted to listen. Steve, especially, liked to sit close to one of the speakers, and feel the vibrations along with the little bit of sound he could still hear. Liked to watch Eddie’s fingers dance across the strings and the frets.

The studio had been the best place to finally lay down what had only been in his head. Hear it out loud and figure out the parts that needed a better transition, or where he might fit in an echo of the main melody somewhere in the bridge.

By the time he finally finished, an hour past their original reservation, the song wasn’t done yet—but it was getting there.

Eddie flicked the lights twice as he walked into the kitchen, offering an apologetic smile when Steve turned from the sink.

Steve set his hands on his hips, frowning.

Eddie raised his hands to his chest, signing meekly, ‘Hey, Stevie.’

In response, Steve tapped his fingers on his sides.

‘I ordered Chinese. Extra spring rolls. Should be here in,’ Eddie checked his watch. ‘Ten minutes?’

Steve stepped forward, eyes narrowed as he considered Eddie’s bribery.

‘Recording go long?’

Eddie bit at his lower lip. Steve raised his brow.

‘Sort of?’ he answered. Steve cleared his throat, clearly wanting more details. Eddie flexed his fingers, and said, ‘I was working on something. Just me losing track of time.’

Something other than the kitchen lights sparkled in Steve’s eyes. For all that Steve had bemoaned Eddie’s taste in music—both listening and creating—he jumped at every opportunity to be the first to know about anything and everything Corroded Coffin put to track.

‘New song?’ he asked, a true smile forming on his lips.

Eddie rolled his eyes, knowing he was caught. ‘Yes, you dork.’

He’d somehow managed to keep it a secret from the man he lived with for about three months. Cat had to come out of the bag sometime.

‘Can I listen?’ Steve had crossed the room into Eddie’s space, his hands signing frantically.

Eddie danced away, playfully narrowing his eyes as he signed back, ‘Not finished yet.’

Steve reached out for him, curving an arm around Eddie’s waist and pulling him back against his chest. He swept Eddie’s hair out of the way and tucked his nose against Eddie’s throat, dragging up until his lips grazed the shell of his ear.

“Please, Eds?” Steve whispered.

Over the years, they fallen more and more into signing. At first, just so they could both learn ASL as quickly as possible by making it their primary form of conversation. The only times Steve did speak out loud was when Eddie walked off while in the middle of signing, forgetting that Steve had to see to understand him, and then Steve had to call out for Eddie to come back and repeat himself.

And, of course, when he really wanted to get his way.

Steve learned quickly, way back when, that Eddie’s weakness was the low timbre of Steve’s voice and his wide palms over the span of Eddie’s ribs. Even if Eddie wasn’t already up for most anything Steve could come up with, it wasn’t hard to convince him when Steve was involved.

Steve had…not taken it well when the doctors told him he was starting to lose his hearing. Between all the concussions and the still-unknown extent of the symptoms from dealing so closely with the Upside Down, the doctors had acted like Steve was getting off easy compared to the recovery from the demobat scars.

But when they’d finally started to think maybe the bullshit was over and done with—all those years from ‘83 into ‘87 had come back once again with a vengeance.

Most days were better now.

Steve still hated wearing the hearing aids. He also hated not wearing them, especially when everybody was over and he struggled to be part of the conversation, as much as Eddie could keep up with his signing. But not everyone had the everyday practice, as much as they all tried with ASL.

Although, they both enjoyed this particular activity that had come from Steve losing his hearing.

It wasn’t all gone. If Steve sat close enough to speakers with his hands and head pressed against them, he could heart the drums and the bass, and sometimes the vibrations of the vocals.

Steve could hear Eddie sing, if he laid his head against Eddie’s chest.

Eddie turned his head toward Steve, nodding.

They moved together into the living room, Steve only releasing his hold so that Eddie could sit first on the couch. He joined beside him, ducking under Eddie’s arm as he laid it across the back of the cushions and settled with one hand on Eddie’s thigh and his head laid near his collarbone.

He traced an ‘ok’ into Eddie’s leg when he was ready.

Eddie took a slow breath and began to sing.

It was more of a ballad than anything else he’d ever written. Not too slow, but focused on the guitar going along with the vocal melody, rather than a chaos of drums and quick series of chords.

He didn’t have all the words yet. Some completed lines about getting through by following these deep brown eyes through hell and back. What he didn’t have figured out, he hummed the melody for.

The entire song was in his deepest register and a low key.

So, even without his hearing aids, Steve would be able to hear or feel every word, every note.

After all, it was for him.

[love-letters-and-lotus-blossom]

cute thought: Y/N doesn't meet the turtles first, she actually meets Master Splinter.

Something happens.

The lair is attacked and, in the midst of the fight, Splinter is taken. Badly hurt, he still manages to escape his captors and wanders the city, calling out for his sons in his delirium before collapsing.

Which is how you found him.

Walking home one night, you heard something above the music in your earbuds...a weak, frightened voice of an old man, calling out for "his sons." Something crashes in an alleyway and you follow the sound.

Admittedly, seeing a giant rat was shocking.

But this is NYC and giant rats aren't too shocking, are they? Just another day in the city, TBH. And he's so scared and so hurt, mumbling names softly...and you can't turn your back on him. Luckily, you don't live too far and you're able to help him into your apartment.

There's no calling the cops or an ambulance, obviously, but luckily you have enough first aid knowledge to help him. It takes a few days of taking care of him until the rat wakes up completely, confused and worried as he tries to get up.

"Don't," you tell him softly as you come into the room. "Don't move too quickly, you'll hurt yourself."

"Where am I? Who...who are you?"

"I'm Y/N."

And that's how you before Splinter, as learn his name, taking care of him a little longer. He likes tea and soap operas and reminds you of your grandfather with his wisdom and wry sense of humor. It isn't long until he's gathered himself enough to figure out a way to contact his sons, the one's he told you about.

Leonardo, Michelangelo, Donatello, and Raphael.

They're exactly as he described them, Splinter smiling as soon as he heard movement on the rooftop, four absolutely giant turtles clambering in through the balcony window.

"Father!"

They're all around him at once, worried and trying not to cry (but definitely crying a little), Splinter comforting his boys and crying a little bit too.

And that was how you got tangled up in thier lives, befriending the father before befriending the sons.

◇ Little Things ◇

◇ You and Splinter like a lot of the same shows. Sometimes you watch together (particularly if it's a season finale or holiday special or something) but typically, you watch separately at your homes and then talk about it on the phone.

"I can't believe she tried to seduce Raul!"

"I can," Splinter scoffs.

◇ You have tea time together as well, and talk about everything going on in your lives. Even though you think your life is boring compared to his, Splinter disagrees. He's very interested in the typical life of a human, it seems so different from his.

◇ He will insist on you learning at least some basic self defense, especially in this city.

◇ When he realizes that one of his sons has developed feelings for you, Splinter is rooting for ot to happen so you can be his daughter-in-law.

◇ When it does happen, the other turtles like to joke that you're his favorite child sometimes.

[lumiluffy]

⋆˙⟡ — Roronoa Zoro

a/n : this is my first post here! hi! i wanted to write something soft for him, since i feel like he often gets mischaracterized as him just being rough and tough, when really he's got a kind heart, and cares about his crew. he just shows it in his own unique way!

summary: one night aboard the thousand sunny, reader has been feeling down because of her insecurities towards her body. zoro takes notice, and comforts her in his usual grumpy manner. ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

The stars were just beginning to peek through the dark navy blue sky, the sea calm around the Sunny as the crew settled in for the night. Laughter and music filtered out from the men’s quarters where Luffy and Usopp were no doubt causing chaos, but you sat alone on the upper deck, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze rolled past.

You hated how you felt.

No matter how much you told yourself it didn’t matter, the comparisons always crept in. Nami and Robin—confident, gorgeous, with curves that always turned heads—and then you, with none of that, sitting here, wondering if anyone would ever see you the same way.

You heard footsteps behind you but didn’t turn. You already knew who it was.

Zoro’s quiet presence had always been strangely comforting. He wasn’t the type to ask questions or pry, but tonight… he didn’t keep walking.

Instead, he stopped right behind you and grunted. “You’ve been up here for a while.”

You didn’t answer.

He sighed and finally dropped down next to you, arms resting across his bent knees. “Alright. Spill it.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Spill what?”

Zoro didn’t look at you, just stared out at the horizon with that usual deadpan expression. “You’re quiet. Like… too quiet. Not just today. You’ve been off for a while.”

You tried to shrug it off, turning your face away. “It’s stupid. Not worth talking about.”

“It's got you actin' all weird,” he muttered, glancing at you sideways. “Must not be that stupid.”

You hesitated. The words were heavy on your tongue, shame curling in your chest. But Zoro didn’t pressure you—he just waited. Quiet, patient, and solid.

So you finally spoke, albeit softly.

“I just… I’ve been feeling kind of insecure. About how I look. Compared to the other girls.”

Zoro’s brows knit slightly, confused.

You fiddled with your fingers in your lap. “You know… I don’t really have the same figure as them. And it’s like, every guy on the Grand Line falls over himself for Nami or Robin. I feel like… no one would ever look at me like that.”

There was a pause. Then, in typical Zoro fashion:

“…You’re kidding, right?”

You frowned. “What?”

He finally turned to face you fully, brow furrowed with disbelief. “You really think that stuff matters to people who actually care?”

You gave him a look. “It matters to a lot of people, Zoro.”

There was a pause before he spoke again,

“You’re an idiot.”

You practically gawk at him, “Wh.. What?!”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head, “You heard me. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard— and I talk to Luffy everyday.”

You just blink at him, stunned. 

He scoffed and leaned back on one hand, the moonlight casting a silver glow across his face. “That stuff only matters to a bunch of shallow bastards. But anyone with half a brain would know you’re worth more than that.”

You looked at him in surprise, and Zoro rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not used to this kind of conversation.

“I’m not great at this kind of thing,” he muttered. “But seriously… you don’t need to look like anyone else. You’re not less because you don’t have…” he waved a hand vaguely in the air, clearly uncomfortable, “…those proportions.”

You laughed weakly. “Nice save.”

He rolled his eyes, but you could see the slight color rising in his cheeks. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”

Zoro leaned forward again, elbows on his knees, and fixed you with a rare, sincere gaze. “I’ve seen a lot of strong people in my life. Warriors. Captains. Enemies. And I’ve seen you, day in and day out. You’re not weak. You’re not lesser. And you sure as hell don’t need to change anything.”

You swallowed, heart thudding louder than before, silently praying he wouldn't be able to hear it.

“I don’t care about that kind of stuff,” Zoro said bluntly. “And if someone does care—if they only see you for something like that—they don’t deserve you in the first place.”

He looked away again, muttering, “You’re fine the way you are. More than fine.” He mumbles that last part, but you catch it anyway.

You couldn’t help but smile a little, your heart fluttering softly. It wasn’t poetic, and it wasn’t full of flowery compliments like Sanji might give—but Zoro’s words were solid. Honest. The kind of comfort that came with zero sugar-coating and a lot of quiet truth. Something so uniquely...  Zoro.

“…Thanks,” you said softly, feeling a little lighter than you did just a few minutes prior.

Zoro didn’t answer right away. Then he stood, brushing off his pants and glancing down at you with that casual smirk of his.

“…C’mon. Let's go back inside. It’s getting cold.” He scratched the back of his head, voice a little quieter.

Surprisingly, he held out a hand for you to take, a shy gruff expression on his face as he looked away. 

And that you did.

You both walked back inside together, your hand still in his calloused one. 

Neither of you seemed to want to let go.

[doubleca5t]

it's extremely funny to me that people are shitting on JoJo Siwa's rebrand by, among other things, comparing it unfavorably to Miley Cyrus' Bangerz era. I've heard several people give the take that Bangerz Miley was legitimately shocking and effective, while Karma feels like a weak attempt to do something similar and like... I can't help but think that a full decade of distance has completely distorted people's memory of the public reaction to Bangerz. Like I distinctly remember EVERYONE going in on Miley for that era. Literally all parties from all sides of american culture came together for a brief period of time in 2013 to dunk on her for being a white girl with no ass trying to twerk. She was cringe, she was trying too hard, she was too raunchy, she was appropriating black culture, she was using black women as props, the music sounded like shit. I cannot remember anyone in 2013 saying a single good thing about the Bangerz era so it makes absolutely no sense to me that people are acting like JoJo getting relentlessly shitted on, albeit for slightly different reasons, is a sign that her rebrand has failed and her career is over when Miley fully bounced back from that criticism and is now a goddamn grammy winner. What makes you think that JoJo's career arc will be any different? Like yes she's attracting a different kind of negative attention than Miley did but it's still the same principle, it's still just doing some crazy shit with the mindset of "all publicity is good publicity". You're still giving her earned media, you are literally getting played like a fiddle by this woman and giving her exactly what she wants. Oml in a decade's time JoJo will be putting out music people actually like and everyone will pretend like Karma was a genius career move and none of this ever happened because the cultural memory is ipad baby levels of abyssmal

[g1rld1ary]

Hello ml, i have binged all of your lifeguard!james series and wondered if the could be in a country bar with cowboy hats and low jeans or dressed as cowboys for Halloween ( not purposely matching ) I can see reader being all hot and bothered about james in overalls no shirt and a cowboy hat. Dont feel like you have to but i love these sm

- Hannah xx

lifeguard!james potter x fem!reader (COWBOY EDITION)

prev

wc: 1949

cw: hornyyyy, alcohol

me: i am FERAL for this ask like absolutely UNHINGED girl i loved it sososo much and i really hope you do too!!!! watched footloose as research and if anyone wants more cowboy/footloose content PLS just shoot me an ask or request because the obsession is back in full force. thank u so much for reading!!! <3

ALSO!! this is my 1 yr anniversary fic!!!!!! felt right to be my boy lifeguard!james because im crazy for him <3 thank u sososo much to everyone who's ever read and interacted with my fics i love u all soso much and am grateful for u all every day <333

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“shh, hurry up!” lily giggled as you snuck out her window, snorting as you landed heavily in the bush underneath. you flipped her off as you wiped the arse of your low-rise jeans, hopping over to marlene’s old car and sliding through the open window.

“are we picking up the boys?” you asked, taking the beer bottle offered by mary from the back seat.

“you mean are we picking up james?” marlene said with a sing-song trill and you turned out to the window to hide your smile.

“that’s not what i asked, was it?”

it was only a half-hour drive to the next town over, where your real favourite pastime lived. lounging by the public pool was fun and all, but nothing compared to maverick’s. maverick’s was a classic country bar, and the last saturday of every month was all-ages line-dancing all night. you went without fail.

you loved the atmosphere of the bar, the music, the crowds, the fashion. everyone dressed to the nines in cowboy attire, hats and boots dominating your eye line, though your group was no different.

you’d perfectly tailored your outfit to fit in with the crowd of dancers. skin-tight low-rise denim sandwiched between red cowboy boots and a red flannel just a size too small, tied up tight under the curve of your breasts.

“fuck!” you moaned, running your hands down your face as the girls all turned to look, “i forgot my hat!” the girls all burst out laughing, relieved there wasn’t an actual emergency.

“just come dance already,” lily grabbed you by the hand, leading you out to the big wood dance floor. you followed with no hesitation.

everything felt better when you were dancing. there were no worries, nothing to think about, no sadness or boredom to wallow in. when you were dancing, there was just music. just joy.

the song ended as if on cue, right when the gimmicky saloon doors swung open to four figures. you, however, were only staring at one.

james potter had never looked sexier. you said that every time you saw him, but this time it was really the truth. cowboy boots with washed denim overalls being the only thing covering his broad expanse of chest. on top of his dark messy curls rested a leather cowboy hat.

you could have sworn your legs should have been strong from dancing but your knees grew weak at the sight, mouth practically watering as you drank in the man before you. you laughed but were secretly grateful when mary jokingly supported your weight.

the boys sauntered over to you, all clearly feeling themselves in their cowboy getups — even remus looked confident in his double denim.

“hello there,” marlene crowed, laughing as they all did little spins to show off their outfits.

another song started and all your conversation was forgotten in favour of dancing, not wanting to waste the night you’d waited all month for. as each of your friends found their own space to move, james slotted in by your side.

“so you do this every month?” he asked, nervously looking around to see what other people were doing.

“every month,” you affirmed, already feeling yourself getting lost in the music.

“what am i supposed to do?” you could hear the rising panic in james’ voice as the choreography began to pick up, “i’ve never learnt these steps, how does everyone know them?” you couldn’t help but laugh at handsome, cool, lifeguard james potter freaking out because he didn’t know some dance steps. you laid a hand on his bicep to calm him down (and because it looked irresistible in the low light of the bar).

“the trick is not to worry — if you look closely, sirius hasn’t done a single right step this whole time, he’s just confident about it.”

james took your advice and you could see him starting to loosen up, which brought a pretty smile to his lips. he still looked to you for a guide of what direction to be travelling in, but you liked watching him have fun with it and laugh through all his stumbling.

he managed to make it through three whole dances before tapping out, and you skipped behind him over to the bar, still moving your hips to the music.

“what’s the problem?” you asked with a twirl to the song, watching as james cracked open his beer, “all those weights you lift not helping you with your moves?”

“it’s overwhelming,” james shrugged, catching you again unprepared for his unwavering vulnerability, “i’ve never been anywhere like this before, i feel out of my depth. how’d you guys find out about it?” you really, genuinely did feel bad that james was being honest with you and you were staring at his exposed chest, but it wasn’t your fault that he’d gotten sweaty from dancing and now it was shiny! you felt no better than a crow.

“believe it or not, a guy actually took me here on a first date once. it went terribly, like fucking awful, but i just fell in love with this place and the feeling. been dragging everyone else here ever since.”

“how does a guy screw up a chance with you? i mean, he takes you out dancing and still can’t show you a good time?” james shook his head like he was exasperated that some man he’d never meet hadn’t had a good date with you.

“he wouldn’t loosen up,” you hooked a finger around the strap of his overalls, pulling yourself closer to james’ seat on the barstool. “barely danced ‘coz he didn’t wanna look like a dork, and he wouldn’t tell me anything real about himself. i spent the whole night staring at other couples and wishing he was like them. unlike…” you stopped yourself by biting your lip shyly, eyes straying past james to the multicoloured alcohol bottles stacked against the wall of the bar.

“unlike?” he asked, then sensing your sudden nervousness, changed the subject, “your outfit’s missing something.” you cocked your head to the side curiously.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he repeated, lifting his cowboy hat from his head, placing it on yours instead. you took the initiative to run your fingers through his messy curls, arranging them to cure his hat hair.

“d’you even know what that means, baywatch?” you asked, one eyebrow raised.

“nah, but i’m sure i’ll like it.”

james’ sharp tongue went un-reprimanded when your favourite song came blasting through the speakers: Fake ID. you gasped in delight, taking off towards the dance floor in a hurry, james stumbling along behind.

james sat out the first verse to get acquainted with the music, eyes trained on you. you, for once, were mostly unaware of james’ gaze, enraptured by the music and the energy around you. you lost yourself in the dance, body moving with muscle memory so you could enjoy the experience fully. james’ eyes couldn’t leave your figure, roving over the creamy expanses of exposed skin, observing appreciatively as you swung your hips in his direction with a quick wink.

remembering what you’d said about your failed date james took the dive and risked his dignity, hopping the barrier between him and the dance floor. in seconds he was next to you again, clumsily (but enthusiastically) following the choreography you were executing more gracefully.

“let loose!” you yelled as the choreography faded out, everyone around you turning and twisting to the music.

you left james to his own devices to twirl with mary, holding james’ hat on your head to ensure you didn’t lose it. you flung your arms into the air with glee, grinding against nothing when fingers interlaced with yours, spinning you quickly into someone’s hold. james. you released the alarmed breath you’d taken, raising an impressed eyebrow as james smoothly brought your hands up to rest around his neck, his own finding their way down to your hips.

you barely spoke, enjoying the music and the tension that thickened whenever the two of you were alone together. james’ eyes moved almost erratically, trying to take in every inch of you he could, and you weren’t much better. there was a thin sheen of sweat coating the miles of exposed, tanned skin james was showing off, catching the light and drawing your eyes toward it.

james let go of you long enough to get low to the floor, hands and mouth grazing your skin as he worked his way back up your body. you arched your back to swing away from him long enough to hide your blush at the sensations, straightening back up to push yourself even closer to your dance partner.

you’d practically fused into one being, all sweat and flying hair and moving limbs, both your hips moving in time with each other and the music in a way that wasn’t feeling strictly friendly. the eye contact between you was unwavering and you had to force yourself to keep it, refusing to back down from what james had started.

you were so close, millimetres apart. james’ plush, pink lips were practically already on yours, yet he hadn’t closed the gap. why? his heavy breath fanning your face as you danced and all you could think about was what it would be like to kiss james potter.

the song ended just as you’d made your mind up to close the gap and you pulled away with a start, lips only barely grazing his. the room applauded as the houselights came back on, a sign that the night of dancing was over. you cheered with them, still making eye contact with james.

the rest of your group broke up your moment, hooting and hollering and dragging you back to the respective cars. james twirled you one more time on the dance floor, landing with his hand slid into the back pocket of your jeans. you gasped with both surprise and delight at the unexpectedly smooth manoeuvre, letting him lead you back into the cool summer night air.

not quite ready to go home yet the group spread across the two cars, sitting on the bonnets and the grass in between. you stood still connected to james, who was leant against the driver side door. idle chatter passed about as you all praised the night, rehashing what you’d just lived through and how you already missed it.

“so, little lady,” james exaggerated a terrible southern accent, “you gonna tell me what all that fuss is about my hat?” the group had finally started moving, the click of car doors pervading the otherwise now quiet night.

“you’re outta your depth, baywatch,” you produced a cocky grin, “save a horse, ride a cowboy.” james’ surprise gave you leave to skip back to marlene’s car and slide through the passenger window.

she’d just put the engine into drive when james called after your car, “is that a promise?”

your laugh carried back to him through the wind as marlene pulled out onto the road back home.

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Notes -20

People with heavy Venus energy in their chart will usually go for looks in a partner first before they get to know their personality. Physical beauty is very crucial for them to be happy in a relationship if they don’t find you physically attractive good luck lol (when I say physically attractive I don’t mean “conventional” however it could be, they just need to be attracted to their appearance before they decide to take it deeper). this isn’t always the case but I see it a lot.

On the flip side, Venus in Scorpio can have some very unattractive partners sometimes. But this is because they are attracted to sex appeal in their partner & depth compared to classic beauty. They tend to like partners that scare them a little or just have a more intimidating presence.

Capricorn moons are usually cat people. I have no idea why but every person I’ve seen with this placement had a strong liking for cats or just prefer cats over dogs.

Leo placement’s do not like when someone they like is being entertained by someone else. They can get really jealous if they see their person bonding with someone too much (Especially the moon & rising). They’re usually very obvious when they’re jealous too they have a harder time hiding that.

It’s common to see married couples have 5th, 7th & 4th house placements in synastry.

I notice it’s hard for cap risings to make expressions even when they try. They have a naturally very stationary face. They honestly look their most attractive when just allow themselves to be expressionless.

Saturn in the 5th housers 🤝 being the first one to leave any social event ever

Pisces moon’s normally get famous for their beauty

Leo suns all have such a deep connection with music. Which is why a lot choose to work in the music industry or produce their own music. It’s like therapy for them.

Venusians all have the most beautiful smiles. When you see someone who’s smile just lights up the room they most likely have a strong Venus influence.

The worst moon compatibility I’ve experienced was a moon in Aries & moon in cancer. These folks emotional natures are soooo different. Aries usually views cancer as too emotional and weak and cancer sees Aries as insensitive and self centered. This can work with A-LOT of compromise. But these partners exhaust each other out faster than most.

Gemini moons usually grew up in a very social house. Could’ve always had different friends coming over a lot or just very chatty family members that could’ve threw a lot of parties or social events. They were usually always surrounded by people growing up.

Once someone with a Moon in the 8th house finds someone they can be their true selves with they will find it very hard to let them go. It’s very rare these people trust anyone with their inner feelings.

Sagittarius moons I notice are very uncomfortable with emotions that aren’t “positive” they can view overly sensitive people as mood killers. They are bizarrely always in a good mood themselves.

12th house placements get drained by doing literally anything. ESPECIALLY when it comes to socializing.

[x0cup1dluv]

Silent Tears

Warnings: angst, smut, makeup sex, yearning, sad Yoongi, yoongi on stage, sad sex, missionary, sweet sex, break up couple, reunion, etc…

Idol!yoongi x reader

Summary: When you were watching your ex boyfriend’s performance on stage you notice him crying over a song that he wrote about you.

Normally when Yoongi performs on stage you don’t really pay attention anymore. You used to be at every concert waiting backstage or in the crowd. You both would always leave together to go home. But not anymore.

You and Yoongi dated for 3 years, but you guys broke up over some…differences. He was always in his studio and you felt lonely because he never came home unless it was almost 2:00 am.

You broke up with him even though you still loved him. You didn’t mean to be the ‘bad guy’ or anything, you just wanted to have someone to cuddle with, turn to when your down, and just have someone in your presence. Yoongi couldn’t give you that.

Had Yoongi moved on? No. He was very heartbroken when you broke up with him. When he saw you packing all your little things scattered around his apartment he couldn’t even bare to look at you. Not because he was angry, but because he knew if he did he wouldn’t be able to let you leave.

His face was red and swollen, he looked numb, to many thoughts behind those eyes that will probably never be said.

You were crying to but you couldn’t show him that, because you’d convince yourself to stay. Once you left you immediately went back to your apartment. It’s small, nothing compared to Yoongi’s apartment but it’ll do.

Yoongi has recently written a whole album about you. You can’t say you’re not surprised. He used to always play the guitar for you and you were in his studio at times helping him with making beats for his songs.

You both connected over music which is how you guys fell in love.

You of course listened to his album, you couldn’t resist. You just had to know what he was thinking. And it was sad. Every lyric in his album felt like a knife to your heart. You wish you could hold him and tell him everything’s okay, but you can’t.

It’s been 2 months since your break up. Yoongi is on tour and he’s doing pretty well. Or so you thought.

He went back to perform in Seoul another time, you saw that he was live-streaming his performance. So you thought you could watch it. Just to see…of course.

As your watching you see him bringing energy to the crowd, fans screaming, his rapping, it seemed like a good time. You were glad to see him be happy and lively.

It was going well until he brought out his piano to play a song off his new album.

He was singing the song so so good. You always knew he was an amazing singer. He was your favorite.

As he is playing the piano he starts tearing up. It was the song about you.

You’ve barely ever seen him cry. He always put up a wall that was hard to take down. He thought it made him weak. You’ve told him many times that it doesn’t make him less of a man to cry, and us humans must express our emotions or else we will feel stuck.

Eventually he was able to cry in your arms, it helped you two connect.

Watching him on the livestream, seeing tears fall from his eyes, it was all to much. You miss him to much. There isn’t a single day where you don’t think about him. For fucks sake you still love him. You miss him, you miss the way he kissed you, touched you, always looked out for you, made sure you were comfortable before he was, when he used to make dinner for you, when you two used to bathe together and your back would be against his chest. You missed it all.

You turned off the livestream and headed straight for his apartment. You looked through your purse for your key that he gave you.

You got onto the next train since he was on the other side of town.

As you made your way up you took deep breaths nervous on what he would think or say.

When you walked into his apartment you set your bag down. He was still performing so you thought you could wait for him.

You took your shoes off at the door and put them in a cubby. You quickly sat on the couch and put on the tv.

A couple hours later, it was now 2 am. You’re so tired but you forced yourself to stay awake.

You were sitting on the couch watching whatever drama was on until you heard the key slot move. You quickly got up to prepare for his reaction.

As he opened the door and looked up at you his eyes widened.

“Isla..? What are you doing here?”

You move closer to him

“Hi Yoongi.”

“I uhm..I saw your performance. You did really good.”

He puts his bag down and stay in the kitchen while your in the living room.

“Thank you.”

You walk over to the kitchen abruptly.

“I’m sorry Yoongi, I should’ve never cut things off. I should’ve communicated with you.”

You say running your hands through your hair.

“I fucked up, I know. I love you yoongi I always have and always will. I can’t stop thinking about you and I just want to be with you. I’m sorry for overreacting and I’m sorry for hurting you. I never will again.”

Yoongi walked over to you and gives you a hug. You wrap your arms around his neck as your sniffling with tears brimming your eyes.

Yoongi pulls back so he can kiss you on the lips. It’s not in a lustful way. It’s more apologetic. It’s slow and passionate, like yearning almost.

You immediately kiss him back. Fuck you missed this. He picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist as he leads himself to his room. Or “your” guys room.

He gently lays you down not breaking away from the kiss. Tears are still falling from his and yours cheeks. It’s almost as if everything that has been unsaid is being said now, through the kiss.

he gets straight to the point by kissing your neck as his takes of your sweats and skirts till your only in your bra and panties.

As he lays on top of you still making out, you unbutton his top and unzip his flyer.

You caress his pale and toned torse. Your hands making there way to his long black hair.

He takes your panties off and slips a finger in. You gasp at the sudden feeling in your stomach. You haven’t been pleasured like this since you left. Yes, you’ve tried to touch yourself but you couldn’t replicate the way his fingers move.

He soon adds 2 fingers, still not breaking away from the kiss. The room is dim, the only thing lighting it is the city and the fairy lights you put up along the bathroom door. He never took them down.

He pulls out his fingers and he sucks on them before he puts them in your mouth to suck.

He then starts to kiss you as he pulls down his boxer’s an hit’s your bare pussy a couple times before entering you slowly.

You both gasp as he groans. Your hands cupping his face as you mouth falls open. He starts moving slowly, each thrust is passionate and deep. You both look down at the action while you’re still whimpering and he’s still groaning.

You start to feel tears swell up, you don’t know why. It’s almost as if all your emotions are happening at once. You shed a tear and he looks down at you, his eyebrows furrow. “Yoongi I’m sorry.” You say sniffling. He doesn’t stop thrusting and you feel a knot in your stomach. “It’s okay y/n I forgive you.” He says grunting. “No Yoongi, I’m sorry, I fucked up.” You whimper and gasp in-between the words.

“Y/n we can talk about this later.” He says as you sniffle trying to hold your tears back. He brings his lips back to your to kiss you again.

You feel the knot in your stomach growing. Yoongi is still in between your legs, holding one leg up to your chest. You grip onto his shoulders as you go through your release.

Yoongi doesn’t stop and he picks up his pace, which normally means he is about to have his release.

Yoongi groans as he releases onto your stomach. He gets up and gets a towel to wipe off your stomach. You lay there on his bed crossing your legs.

Yoongi lays down beside you and spoons you. His face in your neck.

“Y/n I promise to pay more attention to our relationship…if we start over.”

“We can start over Yoongi. I’m sorry for giving up on us, I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s okay Y/n.”

You turn over to face him.

“I love you, Yoongi.”

“I love you to.”

He kisses your forehead.

You both fall asleep a couple minutes later, in each others embrace.

[good-beansdraws]

They made Alien Stage merch of the singers being treated inhumanely in Anakt Garden? ;__;

Milgram

I'm still reeling that they released such intense art as merch.... At the same time it's not like I'm complaining -- wanting to draw this with 0 hesitation only proved I am also not immune to "Let's put those guys in situations 👁👁"

Small descriptions of these scenes under the cut, then some overall au thoughts because this got my brain going...

Mahiru is always speaking of romance and her heart racing -- the aliens want to test just how fast she can go before "overheating."

Amane always enjoyed singing as part of a choir, but the aliens hope to isolate just her voice, and every piece of it, no matter how long she must stand and sing for them.

Kotoko is quick at improvisation in both her music and in a fight, so they wish to find out exactly what makes her tick in these different areas.

Fuuta's big mouth is what makes him stand out in Alien Stage -- they consider straightening his crooked teeth to make him more marketable before deciding on a fang.

Haruka has always been deceptively strong to the smaller members of Anakt Garden, so the aliens only analyze him in a state of weakness.

Mikoto struggles daily with the breathing and circulation issues from the lab, only allowing himself to break when the cameras are down.

I chose the assignments based on the pics themselves, and only afterwards started looking into the overall au -- compared to typical Milgram assignments, I feel like these made for some really interesting dynamics:

Mahiru meets the prodigy Amane in Anakt Garden and takes her under her wing. She obsesses over romance as a general idea, but it's mainly the vision of a complete, happy family that she's dreaming of. Therefore she's optimistic for a tie, and that the two can become a family at the end of Alien Stage -- until Round 1 stops all her dreams short.

Amane had always spoken of god and the universe, and the others find themselves finally listening only after she’s gone. (It mainly affects Mahiru, but I like the fact that Fuuta can still call her his god.) Mahiru reflects on their time together -- though Amane had a big heart, spending time with her caretakers often left her quiet and stoic. Mahiru remembers meeting her in her perfect, doll-frilled dress and vowing to take care of her.

Someone as strong-willed and rebellious as Kotoko has always hated how 03060809 play along with Alien Stage -- she is their self appointed enemy for aiding the aliens in killing other humans. Deep down, though, Mahiru’s shining light has given her hope. She can hardly admit to herself what strong feelings she's developed for Mahiru, much less tell her outright. She focuses all her efforts to fight aliens and corrupt humans til the end. She isn't afraid to smash guitars and throw some punches along the way.

At the same time, Kotoko has never noticed the person idolizing her in silence: Fuuta. Even when she lashes out at him, he's inspired by her strength and intensity. He can tell she doesn't feel the same toward him, so he keeps his growing, touchstarved crush a secret. He's also willing to fight the whole way, even finding a flaming escape opportunity for them as kids (to which Kotoko argues she isn't a coward, and needs to stay and fight.) It isn't until he sees his idol lose her fire that he finally stops and hands the win over. He gets in one violent, rash show of love before it's all extinguished in the rain.

Alongside them, Mikoto becomes a fan favorite to the public. The asthmatic with a gentle side and violently self-preserving one is a huge hit. (Something about Mikoto’s mvs being the most popular for a while.) He earns win after win, no matter the health and memory issues that haunt him. Any time a performance gets too risky, John takes matters into his own hands to make sure they come out on top.

Though it's harder for him to physically evoke Amane's relationship with Mahiru in round 5, he knows how to play into right lyrics: "make me your god, I can give you everything." It's easier for him to act as Fuuta, giving Kotoko a Deep Cover moment of guilt that she'd gotten him killed by fighting for the wrong things. In a twist of irony from canon, Kotoko says her final words in Mahiru’s arms, and Mahiru is the one left feeling responsible for the loss...

Back in their childhood, Haruka and Mikoto had found themselves outcasts together. Haruka was always afraid of Mikoto after witnessing his violence against the other children (I think it'd be weird to switch around victims so maybe it was both of their faults that Haruka’s suster died.) But at the same time, a part of him kept coming back and seeking Mikoto's attention because he admired him so much.

After being rescued from a disastrous Alien Stage round, the others in the resistance were taken in by Haruka’s innocent shyness. Regardless of his protests at poor public speaking, his heart earned him the spot of leader. He is willing throw himself in the path of danger to protect the people he cares about -- an admired trait until it actually does get him killed.

(And a bonus Yuno for Bones :D)

[bookishdreamer28]

Rafayel x reader

Just Rafayel being head over heels in love 💜

"Rafayel are you drunk already?" You giggled as he gently picked you up and twirled you around. His melodious laugh filled the air. You and Rafayel were celebrating your anniversary together, and you decided to stay home, drink as much wine as you want and of course, kiss and cuddle as many times as you want.

"Nope, just in love" he said and gave you a peck on your lips.

"How lucky I am, having my own personal sweet-talker"you said and once he set you down, he kissed your hand and held it close to his chest.

His eyes were shining, like two crystal stones.

You rested your forehead on his, a fleeting smile displaying on your faces. This was all you needed. Just the two of you getting lost in your own beautiful world.

"Hhm I'm so happy" he sighed and his hands found their place upon her hips as always, further pulling you closer to his figure. your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your bodies magnetically connecting as one while moving to the rhythm of the music playing in the background.

Your eyes found his as he kept looking at you.

"You're staring..again"

"How can I not? It's the most impossible thing to do when I have you in front of me"

"Oh please, do tell me more" as you stood on your tippy-toes, you heard him stop breathing, anticipating for your lips to touch his.

"You do love tormenting me, huh?"

"I just love seeing you all flustered" you gave him a small pinch on the cheek. He rolled his eyes and grabbed you by your waist.

"You are such a tease"

"Oh look who's talking"

You said and without saying anything more, he suddenly crashed his lips against yours violently. Savoring every taste and feeling. You softly moaned and Rafael's heart beat quickened. The noises you made every time you two kissed drove him crazy. He was weak on his knees for you.

"The things you do to me, the things I feel, nothing can ever be compared to the feeling of you touching me like this, loving me like this" he said once he pulled away from the kiss, and stared deeply in your eyes, letting himself swim in the starlight ocean of your pretty irises.

"Looked at you, my pretty flower" he said and softly laughed at your blushy face.

"And you say that I'm the one tormenting you. But when you say things like these..." you hide your face on the crook of his neck and he chuckled at your adorableness.

"But you're my everything! I want to remind you every minute just how much I adore you" Hearing all these words made your heart flutter in a way you didn't know you could feel. You looked up at him and he leaned down to leave a small peck on the tip of your nose and you smiled at the action.

"Now, will you dance with me again m'lady?" He held out his hand from below like a prince and you immediately held it, a huge smile displaying on your face.

"Of course my prince" you said in a teasing tone and for the rest of your dreamy night, nothing else mattered when you danced in each other's.

Rafayel is just so....so 🙇🏻‍♀️

Next is ma man Zayne so stay tuned !!!

[gorgeys]

I can confirm the Christmas fic scratched the part of my brain I didn’t necessarily know even needed it!!!

Please more Santana!!!

gloria! ★ santana lopez x fem!reader x rachel berry

santana and rachel face-off in a game of musical tug-of-war. the prize? you, of course!

word count: 1900 warnings: the girls are fighting a/n: i'm so happy to see all the love for the christmas fic!

this is a sneak peek at the super long santana/rachel fic i've been writing. tbh i don't know if it will ever get done but a girl can dream!

this fic is clearly based on the scene from 5x10 and can i just say the glee version of gloria from the episode is so so so good!!

another day, another shift.  except this time rachel couldn't count on you to get her through it.  it was just her and kurt working today, and yeah, obviously kurt was better than nothing, but he didn't compare to you. 

he couldn't compare to your little smiles as you weaved through rows of tables, the ones that nearly made her lose balance and drop every dish she was carrying.  or when your hands brushed hers for a millisecond as you both wiped down the counter.  or when you were scribbling orders in your notepad and looked up every once in a while, eyes meeting across the floor.

every touch, every look, every smile made rachel's heart soar, as much as she tried to deny it.  she looked forward to work whenever it included you, and hated it whenever you were gone.  which is why she stormed into the diner on this occasion looking the picture of irritation.

that is until she starts toward her first table and sees you sitting there.  her fingers freeze where they're tying the strings of her apron.  there you are twirling the straw of your milkshake, glowing as if there's a spotlight over your head.  rachel feels the smile start to tug at her lips.

then she sees who you're with and her lips fall into a thin line.  she stomps over to the booth, passing kurt who's seated on the counter with a tired, knowing expression.

"here we go," he mumbles, eyes following rachel as she stops in front of the table, hands planted on her hips.

"what is this," she interrupts with that sharp edge to her voice, gesturing wildly between you and your lunch date.

"oh, hi, rachel!" santana exclaims, beaming up at rachel with that anything but kind smile.  rachel narrows her eyes at her, knowing santana's intentions, before whipping her head around to you.

"what are you doing?" she borderline shouts, leaning in toward you.  "what happened to you being on my side?"

right.  the fight rachel and santana had last week.  definitely not the first and not the last.  you couldn't remember how it began—something to do with you per usual—but it definitely ended with rachel storming out of the apartment and slamming the door behind her.

"rachel-" you start, though you can't get more than word out before santana jumps in.

"please, berry.  in the past four years, i don't think she's ever been on your side," santana says, leaning forward on her elbows.  "but who can blame her?  it's just different when you have history, right, babe?"

she looks to you with that smug, self-assured smile while your gaze flickers nervously between the two of them.

on one hand santana, your high school ex-girlfriend, the one you'd planned your entire future around.  that was until, she'd gone to louisville for college and you'd flocked to new york.  it was ironic that the distance had been the cause of your break-up, only for you two to end up in the same city just months later.  despite your weak protests, she'd been dead set on getting you back since moving to new york, even if it meant squashing rachel's little crush on you.

on the other hand was rachel, who had become your best friend since moving to new york, but sometimes blurred the lines of becoming something more.  she wished you'd just open your eyes and see that she was the one who had been here for you all this time, not santana.

you notice rachel's jaw clench and her fists tighten at her sides, like she's threatening to blow at any moment.  you'd attempt damage control if you could even get a word in.

"no, i see what you're doing, trying to weasel your back into her life," rachel grits, finger pointed aggressively in santana's face.  "but let me tell you, i'll let you have the apartment, i'll let you have kurt, but you can not steal her."

"you don't own her, rachel," kurt finally chimes in from the background.

"i'm not speaking to you, traitor!" rachel spins, shouting at kurt who doesn't look the least surprised.

"wow, and i'm supposed to be the jealous ex," santana laughs.  she doesn't miss the blood that rushes to rachel's cheeks.  "you have something you want to tell us? to tell y/n?"

rachel flounders for a second, eyes nervously flickering over to you in an attempt to gauge your reaction.  luckily you seem too overwhelmed to process exactly what santana is suggesting.

"and i don't need to steal her, yentl.  your bestie over here, yeah, she's been mine," santana says, leaning back against the booth, clearly satisfied with herself.  "always will be."

rachel's about to explode when you're suddenly saved by the bell.  you exhale a sigh of relief when your manager inserts himself into the conversation.

"rachel, the couple at table three is requesting a number.  the wife's name is gloria, so they want 'gloria' by laura branigan."

before rachel can respond, santana is shooting up from her seat.

"well, even though i'm off-duty, i think i'll take the lead on this one, since rachel obviously can't handle that song," santana tells him, sliding out of the booth.  but not before grabbing your hand.  "and my girl here will back me up," she finishes, dragging you along with her before you can protest.

"you know what," rachel says, grabbing you by the other arm and following after you.  "why don't you back both of us up, and then at the end, you can decide which one of us is better."

you shoot kurt a pleading glance over your shoulder before santana tugs you onto the makeshift stage and the first notes of the song blast through the speakers.  you try your best to ignore the growing tension for the sake of the customers, but it proves to be a difficult task.

rachel turns to sing the first line, but santana beats her to it, stepping in front of rachel to soak up the spotlight.

gloria, you're always on the run now

as you sing the first verse with santana, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this performance won't be a total disaster.  the two of you dance along to the beat, santana making you laugh with all her signature moves and then smiling to herself at your reactions.  you both grin while leaning in and singing the words to each other, oozing that same flawless chemistry you had back in high school.  you almost forgot how good it felt to perform with her.  to be with her.

but you can't think about it for too long as rachel inserts herself between you two to take center stage.

was it something that they said?

you're taken a little off guard, but you quickly join in with rachel.  she smiles back at you upon hearing your voice, ignoring santana who's glaring daggers into the back of her head.  as you and rachel belt a note, she turns and presses her back into your front, to which you naturally drape an arm around her waist.  rachel beams while santana grimaces.

santana immediately grabs you by the wrist, dragging you away from rachel and off the stage.  she sings as she pulls you into the crowd of tables, leaving rachel pouting in her midst.

gloria, don't you think you're falling?

she leans into you, pointing a finger into your chest before letting it drag down the buttons of your uniform.  it leaves your heart beating a little faster than before, and it seems she can tell by the way she's smirking back at you.

but then rachel dances her way back to the center and pushes santana away once more.  santana freezes, before rounding one of the tables and staring rachel down with a look that could kill.  rachel chooses to ignore her in favor of singing every word into your eyes.

at this point, you're starting to crack under the weight of the tension.  you spare kurt a glance, only to find him staring back at the three of you with squinted eyes like a confused old person.

before you know it, santana's looping her arm around yours as smooth as ever and dragging you away from rachel again.  but then rachel's grabbing you by the shoulder and pulling you back, leaving you in the middle of a sick game of tug of war.

rachel's hand trails down your arm, finding your hand and pulling your body into hers so she can dramatically dip you.  santana looks personally offended by rachel's hands all over your body as she stomps away and climbs atop a table.

rachel leans back against a booth as she hits a high note, leaving you smiling at her.  she basks in your attention before santana shoots back with a high note of her own.  you look up at her standing on a tabletop, her arms outstretched and her eyes laser-focused on you.

you climb onto the counter for your own lines.

was it something that they said?

both rachel and santana flock to edge of the counter you're standing on, pressing their hands on the surface near your feet.  they echo your words, each looking up and arching toward you with lovesick eyes.

all the voices in your head?

you let yourself get lost in the number, leaning down toward both of them and allowing your hands to swipe the underside of each of their chins.  you can feel rachel lean into your touch and santana stare up at you in pure admiration, especially when you raise your arms to hit the high note.

they both extend their hands to help you down from the counter.  you wish you hadn't accepted their help because, when you reach the ground, neither of them let go.  they attempt to tug you in opposite directions, leaving you in an awkward middle ground.  when they're both pulling hard enough to dislocate your shoulder, you finally shake yourself from their grip.

you can't even carry on singing anymore, too distracted by the clear battle over you as they circle you like predators hunting prey.  santana's hand lingers low on your waist while rachel's grips your upper arm, each staking their claims on you as they sing the final notes of the song.

while the music dies and the diner erupts into cheers, you're frozen in no man's land.  you don't have a moment to think before they pounce.

"okay, let's settle this once and for all," rachel sighs, breathlessly pulling herself into your side.

"who was better?  and why was it me?" santana says, her nails digging into your skirt, looking like she's already won.

you glance between them, and then at kurt who's frantically shaking his head, telling you this is a losing battle.  not that you don't already know that.

"i…well, um…"

"don't be shy, baby, tell her," santana says in a lower voice, breath tickling your ear.  she knows what she's doing calling you those pet names.  and it's definitely working from the way your knees weaken.

"stop pressuring her," rachel protests.  "if she chooses you it's only because you're seducing her."

"yeah, cause she actually wants me," santana smirks, reveling in the disappointment that flashes across rachel's face at the realization.

but that was the question: who did you really want?