#please prove me wrong about there being no content for them I'd love that

[kiruuuuu]

Kiru's Advent Calendar, Day 12📏

Today is one of the ships I've always wanted to write, one for which I've inexplicably not seen any content whatsoever (and I don't understand, to me they seem perfect). Also please note that according to Siege, 'Kaid' means commander - Oryx isn't in some delusional one-sided relationship 😆 (Kaid/Oryx, Rating E, smut/spanking, ~2.1k words)

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Never before has Saif been in a room that disclosed its usual occupant so readily: every piece of furniture is placed with great deliberation, there is no speck of dust visible, and the chamber carries itself with a grave solemnity so befitting its owner. Dark wood is finely ornamented, the mosaics are precise things of beauty, the pillars elegant and free of decoration. It is an office fit for a leader, functional yet impressive, made to instil a sense of awe while not unnecessarily drawing the eye.

Though Saif wishes for something to rest his gaze on, anything to distract his mind from the scrutiny of the one person whose favour he seeks. His feet are half-sunken into the atypical thick rug right in front of the heavy desk from which he’s been welcomed a minute ago, ordered to stand where he now stands. He stares straight ahead though his hairs strain upwards, outwards in the direction of the threat circling him. He’s too aware of the other man’s presence despite his nearly soundless pacing.

“Tell me, how long have you been with us?”

Sharp words cause his ears to twitch. A rhetorical question, no doubt his Kaid knows every detail about all the students he oversees. “Seven months, one week and three days”, Saif replies evenly. He’s counted the days ever since the Fortress doors finally swallowed him, counted them in anticipation of being spat out again, deemed unpalatable. So far, he’s been lucky, but every visit to this very office causes his stomach to sink. A small voice prophesies this time, he’ll throw you out whenever he climbs the stairs, his feet heavy as rocks.

Jalal El Fassi steps into his field of vision, a tall, imposing figure. His gaze, too, is unwavering and bores a hole into Saif’s skull with disapproval. This time, it’s serious. “And how many days did you starve yourself to be accepted? Knelt outside, let your body rust, let your mind wither, let your reflexes decay? How long did you beg, like a desperate lover, how much time did you waste?”

He barely raises his voice, doesn’t need to. Saif resists the urge to shrink away from the harsh judgement and lies: “I don’t know.” He knows exactly how many hours it was. As of yet, he cannot ascertain how many of those have been in vain.

His Kaid is silent, straightens a pen on the polished surface of his desk, rights a paperweight before closing his fingers around a long, wooden ruler. Saif catches himself watching his fingers but quickly reverts back to his indifferent stare, worried El Fassi might notice. Not that he requested Saif doesn’t look at him, but… it seems appropriate. It feels like the respectful thing to do.

“You broke how many of his bones?” The other man slips out of his cone of vision once more, like a tiger. Just as dangerous.

Saif’s breaths turn shallower. Some idiotic, unfounded hope had remained that he wouldn’t have to answer for his actions, that he’d be commended for his outstanding performance instead. He’s suddenly cold, almost shivers as he recalls the familiar sound of having gone too far. “Three”, he says quietly. When something brushes against his naked arm, he jumps, sharply sucks in some air but it’s just the ruler, its edge an unmistakeable message. His Kaid wants precision, not euphemisms, so he amends: “Three broken bones, two fractures.”

The object disappears again, apparently satisfied. El Fassi is behind him and must sense his discomfort yet neither of them move. Around them, the air is perfectly still.

When he opens his mouth once more, begins to justify himself, the flat side is touched to his flesh, silencing him in favour of El Fassi’s probing: “Did he deserve it?”

It’s deliberate, Saif understands immediately, instinctively, his mind latching on to what little common sense he has left when recalling the event – yet there’s a fire too, flames licking at his thoughts, singeing them and tarnishing them with soot. He did, they spell out, and more. Fingers twitching, he opens his mouth in defiance as long as the white hot rage hasn’t had a chance to settle in yet, expects his lips to form the answer capable of saving his soul, of preserving what he worked so hard to achieve, and what comes out instead, to his horror, is an emotionally laden: “He shouldn’t have -”

With a loud thwack, the ruler is brought down on his upper arm, making him yelp in surprise and shy away. It stings without really hurting, the surprise worse than the brief pain. But what’s worse is the following rush of adrenaline, the brief surge of blood racing through his entire body, the rise in temperature. His heart is suddenly pounding hard enough to render him light-headed and instant shame colours his cheeks.

What sort of reaction is this?

Regardless, he refuses to learn his lesson, face burning with the injustice of it all, and he tries again: “He did not deserve the broken bones, no. But what he said, when he insulted -”

This time, his throat fails to contain the pitiful choked noise his body aches to release when he’s hit again, on the other arm. He wishes the ground would swallow him up, not just because he seems unable to forgive against which he already retaliated disproportionately, but also because he’s noticing more and more misplaced excitement bubbling up in him, utterly inappropriate and deeply shameful. This is his Kaid, the one person he respects the most on this entire earth, his mentor, teacher, commander, the one deciding his future. He shouldn’t have this kind of reaction to him, let alone around him, and yet he can’t help the rising arousal.

“I value your presence”, El Fassi seeks to soothe the injury, oblivious to Saif’s misfortune, “and I see great potential in you. Many lack your determination, though it is notable they make up for it in discipline. An aspect you have yet to master.”

His hands are balled into fists and he prays to his God that the other man remain where he is as to not discover the state he’s in. “I’m sorry, Kaid”, he grits out, defiance defeated by an overwhelming abundance of emotions. “I will try.”

“You will do”, booms El Fassi and somehow this, too, exacerbates the situation, awakens a beast inside Saif thirsting to be tamed, ready to roll over at every command.

And yet there’s a part of him refusing to comply, a part responsible for a mere repetition of his assertion: “… I will try.”

An audible gasp escapes him on the next impact of wood on skin, his lower abs twitching in response. Why must he tempt the demon so, why does he risk exposure? When his Kaid lets him hear quiet footsteps, he begins trembling, endeavours to hide his excitement by shifting his legs though he fears to draw even more attention. He cannot meet El Fassi’s gaze, not filled with impure thoughts like this. He barely dares to blink. The blood beneath his skin is roaring, leaving him dizzy.

There is a prolonged silence which itches underneath his skin, causes it to prickle uncomfortably. No doubt, he must have seen.

“Perhaps you require a refresher on what discipline entails. I would be happy to oblige.” His voice betrays nothing.

Did he notice? Did he see?

“Pull down your trousers and your underwear.”

Saif nearly chokes on nothing, his eyes flick over to an impassive face still wearing a stoic expression as if it’d been an ordinary request, but his body is set aflame. This can’t be. Anticipation constricts his chest and fills the space between his legs.

“You may refuse, of course, if you deem such measures unnecessary.”

His shaky hands move on their own, the disbelief over his Kaid’s words not yet processed in the slightest though where his brain limps, the rest of him soars. Humiliation burns low in his belly, dread about possible consequences yet somehow the negative roiling merely brightens the excitement. He dares not speak a word for fear of breaking this spell, interrupting whatever has taken hold of the other man.

“Brace on my desk, Saif.”

Though it’s been in many mouths, hearing his name spoken in this context bestows it with more significance than ever. Makes it personal. This is about him, his Kaid is doing this to him and no second after he’s leaned forward and pressed his palms to the smooth surface does the first proper hit land.

It’s sharp, radiant, spreads through every cell in his body for less than a heartbeat and then he’s left with nothing but a dull ache. El Fassi’s precision is unmatched, he hit the centre of his behind directly, struck one buttock right in the middle. The sensation is terrifying in its intensity and Saif does not know whether he hopes for this to continue till eternity or to cease immediately.

Thwack.

His Kaid is not holding back. The force is remarkable, the pain it awards cumulative the more he maltreats one and the same spot. The tears gathering in the corners of Saif’s eyes feel like pinpricks, the act of crying as much of a punishment as the rest is. As if presenting his bare arse wasn’t demeaning enough.

Thwack.

Saif lets out a shuddering breath. When he holds the air in, each hit does not hurt as much.

Thwack.

He’s losing count on the eighth hit (or the ninth?). Focusing on anything but the throbbing ache, the aching lust coupled with an overbearing, deep-rooted shame is getting impossible, his mind is filled with nothing but the wish to survive. His nails are scraping over polished wood. One tear has rolled down his nose and dropped onto the ornate rug, being absorbed and disappearing immediately.

Thwack.

Noises are inevitable. He whimpers on every impact, attempts to squirm away from the merciless hits abusing sensitive skin without moving his hands or feet. They are glued to their respective spots. He feels hot, unbearably hot, his entire upper body must be flushed.

Thwack.

Helplessly, he stares down at the root of all evil, hanging swollen and heavy between his legs. Not once does the thought enter his mind to touch himself, it somehow seems a line he will not cross unprompted and yet the pleasure increases, despite lack of direct stimulation. He’s betrayed by his own body, this pulsing, throbbing piece of flesh craving every little bit of pain. He’s certain he could finish within seconds if he used his hand.

Thwack.

Grasp on reality waning, he bites his cheek to try and hold on to something. He’s in blind agony, legs threatening to give in, throat hoarse from badly suppressing groans. His posture has suffered, forehead almost resting on clenched fists, allowing him to witness as one clear, sticky droplet breaks off and falls to the ground. His face is wet from all the tears he’s shed and yet this drop is of a different kind, a testament to his perversion.

A loud voice yanks him back into the present, forcing him to sober up enough to remember where he is: “You’ve had enough.”

Light-headed, he attempts to right himself and stumbles, appreciates the hand grabbing his to ensure his balance before it lets go again. After his eyes are able to focus again, he dresses, wincing as fabric is pulled over sore skin. Bright pain remains at the forefront of his mind and still he recognises the darkness in El Fassi’s gaze as a reflection of his own desire – a piece of information he is unable to process for now.

“Do not harm another student again. Or this will be the last private conversation between us, Saif. …I trust you understand the implications.”

His head is swimming and all he manages is a dumb nod. He understands, yes. Understands that he might have a new incentive to practice self control. Something his Kaid might be able to assist him with.

Disregarding his apparent inability to speak, El Fassi steps much closer to place a surprisingly warm hand on top of his head, the gesture accompanied by a thumb brushing over his scalp in an almost affectionate gesture, something Saif has never before seen him perform. “Do not disappoint me”, comes the gentle reminder right before he’s ushered out of the office, ending up disorientated, pining for release of any kind and grimacing in pain in the hallway outside.

He’s not sure why his heart is pounding so keenly, whether it is overwhelming relief over getting another chance or something else entirely. What he does know is that he needs to get his unbridled rage under control, and soon.

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.

qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).

as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.

"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."

you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.

you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.

it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.

when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.

it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.

savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.

and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.

it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.

the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.

you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.

what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?

as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?

savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.

unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.

you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.

it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.

it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.

it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.

until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.

he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.

when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.

when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."

it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.

he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.

he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.

you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.

little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.

"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.

you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.

"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.

so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.

"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."

so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -

it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.

so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.

you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.

it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.

you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.

now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.

this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.

you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.

she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.

"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.

it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.

"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."

"what, no hug for me, eh?"

you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.

"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.

nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.

"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.

"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."

you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.

"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."

lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."

she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.

"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.

"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.

he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.

"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.

he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."

you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.

out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.

even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.

"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.

his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.

if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.

now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.

coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.

and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.

you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.

the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.

you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.

what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!

he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.

"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"

and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.

of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.

"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"

you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.

how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.

"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."

there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.

you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.

eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.

"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"

"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."

"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"

nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.

"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."

you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."

"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"

lexi whistled.

"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.

"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.

he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."

the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.

you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.

"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"

"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.

"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.

you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.

"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.

terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.

quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.

jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."

quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.

something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.

as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.

but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.

you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.

"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."

it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."

you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?

lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"

"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."

a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.

"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"

"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.

it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"

he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.

"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.

his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.

"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"

quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.

this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.

"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.

"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.

and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.

still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.

you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.

the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.

at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.

the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.

he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.

his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."

you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.

the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.

you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"

his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."

"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."

his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"

you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."

matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.

a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.

"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.

you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.

"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.

"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.

"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."

quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.

a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.

matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.

"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.

he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.

when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"

he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."

you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.

"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.

"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"

he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.

"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."

this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"

you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?

you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.

"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."

this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"

you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.

his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.

"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"

"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.

"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."

your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"

his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?

it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?

he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.

making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.

"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.

"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.

your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.

and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.

you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.

and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.

it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.

this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.

it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.

"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."

you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"

lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.

once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.

sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.

"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.

you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.

he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.

you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"

he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."

you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"

he scoffed. "who do you think?"

you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.

it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.

"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.

the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.

you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?

jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."

"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."

lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.

you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.

"where're you going?" luke asked you.

"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.

the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.

you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.

"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.

"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."

"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.

"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"

"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.

"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.

"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.

you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."

"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.

"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."

he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.

you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.

"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.

"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.

"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.

you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.

fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.

"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.

"a clown," you whispered back.

matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"

and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.

what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?

"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."

"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."

"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.

because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.

"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.

sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.

he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.

because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.

"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.

matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.

you were silent for a moment, blinking.

nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."

"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.

nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"

"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.

the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.

the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.

you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."

her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.

you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.

still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.

it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.

the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.

you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."

as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.

you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.

you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.

"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.

you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.

he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.

you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.

you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.

unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.

maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.

he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.

here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.

"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"

he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.

"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"

"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."

you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.

"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"

his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.

the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.

"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."

"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"

you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"

"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"

"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.

you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.

and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.

his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.

"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."

something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.

"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.

his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.

you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.

he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.

his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-

"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"

the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.

you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.

savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.

"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"

you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.

she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"

quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.

your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.

quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.

"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."

"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.

she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."

you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.

"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."

she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."

you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.

"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.

he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."

you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.

you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.

as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.

you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.

when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.

you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.

you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.

the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.

it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.

your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.

tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.

i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.

you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.

of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.

more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.

he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.

and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.

oh, how you wanted it to be different.

it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.

at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.

if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.

it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.

"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.

he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."

you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."

luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."

"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.

he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.

you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"

luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.

you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."

you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."

you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.

luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.

his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.

you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.

there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.

"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.

you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.

lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.

you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.

erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."

she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.

nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.

jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.

nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.

"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."

"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.

"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."

luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"

nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.

your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.

the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.

it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.

after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.

it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.

he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?

your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.

you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.

everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.

time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.

but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.

of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.

the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.

the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?

"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.

the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.

that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?

you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.

he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.

the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.

you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.

great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.

you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.

"jesus, doll, there you are."

your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?

your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.

it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.

this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.

he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"

you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.

"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.

he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"

"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"

"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.

"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"

his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.

"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.

your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."

"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.

you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.

"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.

you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?

"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.

he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"

your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.

both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.

you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.

"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."

you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.

his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.

"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.

you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.

you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.

he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.

"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.

what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.

he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.

it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.

the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.

how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.

you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.

that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.

but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.

but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.

at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.

the silence was so beautiful, for a while.

"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.

quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."

your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.

you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.

when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.

the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.

you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.

he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.

he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.

he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.

you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.

you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!

and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.

regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.

the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.

you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.

he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.

"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.

you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.

you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.

the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.

"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.

you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.

"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.

you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.

he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."

the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."

then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.

"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.

"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.

you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.

"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."

"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."

your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.

he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.

you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"

you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?

how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?

somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.

"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."

you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.

because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.

"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."

that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.

it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.

your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.

he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.

"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.

"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."

he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"

you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.

he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.

he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.

"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."

you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."

he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."

you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.

his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.

the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."

someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.

you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.

"don't be a brat," he ordered.

a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.

his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.

"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."

"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."

you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."

he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"

"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.

"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."

you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.

his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.

at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.

he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.

"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.

you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.

"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"

he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."

you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."

his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.

when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.

"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"

"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."

savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.

you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.

sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.

"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."

"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"

she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."

you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"

lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"

"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.

quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.

you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.

"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.

you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.

luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."

"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.

you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."

nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."

quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"

"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.

you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.

the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.

you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.

lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.

luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.

finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.

it was a beautiful ceremony.

the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.

you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.

"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.

he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."

you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.

when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.

"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.

"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."

you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"

you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.

he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.

it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.

and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.

fin.

[lilacliquors]

a queen's throne

pairing: soldier boy ( ben ) x reader

prompt 36. for one muse to sit on the other’s face

word count: 935

contents: 18+ minors dni, facesitting, praise kink, dom!reader, actually more plot here than my last two wow, probably some gaslighting idk, and the lovely @mishapocalyse says it best, soldier boy is his own warning

notes: this was a request from an anon last night, but somehow, tumblr emptied my inbox and left me with no requests, even from before the special. this means my inbox is practically empty and you can request more stuff.

here is the link to the 1k special rules. please send in requests <3

having a supe for a lover was both a blessing and a curse. especially one as well known as your ben. dealing with paparazzi, promotional events, other women hanging all over him, it was hard on you. but despite what the tabloids wanted you to believe, he only had eyes for you. and god, what beautiful eyes they were.

he proved it to you nearly every night when he came home. the way he ravished your body, praised you, complimented you, made you see stars, it was all you needed to serve as a reminder that you were home to him, and you always thought that he'd never stray too far from a safe and loving home.

but one night in particular, it was rough. his performance on solid gold was in the final rehearsal stages, and to see all of those gorgeous dancers hang all over him, to see him bask in their attention, it made your chest feel tight. your face felt hot and your palms were sweaty as you saw him look at one woman, with beautiful tanned skin and dark sultry eyes, with a bedroom look you thought was reserved only for you. you stood abruptly, and that caught his attention from across the room. when he saw you leave, he knew he'd fucked up.

it didn't take him that long to catch up with you, you had situated yourself in his private dressing room to compose yourself, and when he saw you, there was a lump in his throat that he'd never felt before. you looked small, curled up on the couch with your legs tucked in and your arms crossed, and he shut the door behind him as gently as he could.

"was i wrong about you?" you asked, not once looking up at him.

"wrong about me?" he was caught off guard by the sudden question, and he arched a brow.

"all those times i defended you, said you were loyal, laughed off anyone who said otherwise. was i wrong?"

"no, no. no, you weren't wrong. it's all an act up there. you know it's all an act. it's never been anything more. and i don't know what's got you thinking otherwise this time," he said.

"no cameras were rolling this time. they yelled cut. i heard them. and you looked at her like ... shit, i'm shocked you didn't just rip her skin tight suit off right then and there!"

"you're being ridiculous. you know there's no one else i'd rather fuck than you. been that way for a while," he said, and you stood, letting your hands rest on your hips.

"then get over here. for all the trouble you just caused, you need to apologize."

there was a glint in his eye as he looked at you, his gaze lingering on the skirt you'd worn just for him, and he walked towards you in a trance like state.

"and how do you want me to do that?" he whispered, his hands gripping your waist.

"we're gonna put your mouth to good use. on your back, on the floor. now."

you were the only one who ever dare to order him around like this. and he loved it. dutifully, he got onto his knees first, then settled onto the floor, face up. you pulled your top off and tossed it aside, then reached under your skirt to shimmy your panties down your legs and drop them to the floor. you stepped out of them kept your shoes, skirt, and bra on, and got down to the floor as well. you crawled over until you were settled comfortably over his face, and you felt his hands holding onto your calves. you looked down into his pretty green eyes, nodded, and eased yourself down the rest of the way, his face disappearing under your skirt.

like a man starved, his tongue flattened against your cunt, your arousal sweet and inviting. your head tilted back as the tip of his tongue teased your clit, as you sighed as he toyed with it further. the sounds from between your thighs were obscene, and you couldn't help but grind down onto his tongue. one of your hands gripped his hair as you rocked yourself, using him as you saw fit. your clit bumped against his nose, and you whimpered quietly.

you heard him groan against you, his hands rubbed your legs, massaged your calves, gripped your ankles. anything he could do to either get you to press down harder or simply keep you in place. the gasps and moans leaving your lips were like music to his ears, and he could tell by the rapid beating of your heart that you were close.

he lapped at your folds, sucked on your clit, turned his head to nip at your thighs, it all drove you wild. you bucked your hips and held his head in place by his hair as you came, crying out as your thighs shook. he held you in place, not allowing you to pry yourself away from him, and he drank every last drop you could spare.

you were a sweaty, panting mess when he finally let you go, and you inched backwards so you could sit on his lap as he sat up. immediately, you leaned forward and kissed him, and his arms wrapped around your body, pinning you against him until he again had his fill.

"am i forgiven?" he breathed, his forehead resting against yours.

"until the next time you piss me off," you replied, and his grin was wolfish in nature.

"sounds good to me."

[neonscandal]

Hi, Neon....Are you free now? If yes, please read this BL manga : Loss Time ni Hanamuke o by Cocomi...

It's not the sweetest but it's the one of the most realistic BL that I've read until now. It's an angst with a happy ending. And somehow I got SatoSugu vibes from this couple (sorry if I'm wrong). Like they love each other but lack of communication became their problem. It's a break up come together again story...

If you have read it, can I ask your opinion on it? Thanks.....

ANON. ANON. 🧡

I hadn't read it but prioritized it at your request and so, so Satosugu. Haha I wonder if I'd have noticed that had you not framed it up but at the same time, even visually, the long hair and Suguru's own mane... it was bound to happen. Also, don't apologize for your thoughts or interpretations! I definitely don't and I'm sure I've been loud and wrong before (and will be again✨). I appreciate you sharing your thoughts with me and thank you for recommending this!

OPINION

There was something so nostalgic about it. Not just because, unlike most stories, it begins at the tail end of a relationship. But to see what's clearly established affection cooled by the disconnect of miscommunication and a lack of appreciation... I think everyone can relate. It wasn't a sad, traumatic story. But it was a bitter and rueful story that could still evoke tears if you've been in a similar situation. That situation, of course, being one that proves that sometimes love is simply not enough.

Two perfect pieces don't fit together one day and call it happily ever after. Four years in and the couple still struggles with selfishness, with the idea that sex is the same as intimacy or honesty. That someone who can be unilaterally focused on their words, to the point where personal care falls to the wayside, can come up so short when they really matter.

This felt like a really honest (and short!) insight into what broke Tsukushi and Toui apart but also what made them work. In fact, this ask reminded me of another ask wherein I kinda lamented that BKDK or STSG-esque dynamics would be hard to find in something short. But here we are, you with the ultimate sauce and me eating my words. 🏆

We don't know if Tsukushi and Toui end up staying together. Returning to one another with the promise of change could very well be short lived regardless of how earnestly they want to be with one another. But the idea of love spoiling into resentment, especially in the presence of what are clear acts of love being taken for granted do feel SatoSugu-esque in nature. We know there's More (TM) to their story, of course, but this almost shows us that, even if they weren't child soldiers, there would still be a point in their relationship where Geto's overly caring and accommodating nature may want more than catering to Gojo who is so closed off in his own little world. In JJK universe, he's driven by his own identity as The Strongest regardless of how he drags Geto into that entitled status that it blinds him to Geto's own withering mental condition. Moreover, this fundamental idea of Understanding being a necessary part of love is a huge point of contention between SatoSugu that was so disheartening, as well. Thus far, it feels like we only get Gojo's interpretation of events but this story gives voice to Geto's as well which makes him snapping and breaking away from Gojo slightly less uncharacteristic but rather justified when he lacks critical support.

TL;DNR: This story wasn't an emotional rollercoaster fraught with traumatizing drama. Instead, it was a quiet reminder of the love that lingers when things don't end in a bang but rather a whisper. Two lovers desperately huddling their hands around the flickering flame of what once was, uncertain why things simply don't work between them any longer. Relatable pining, would recommend. Especially if you're looking to get a whiff of SatoSugu in another flavor.

[ravendruidreads]

A Vicious Game - Review

Author: Melissa Blair Saga: The Halfling Saga Date Read: February 20, 2024 - February 24, 2024 Format: Physical Pages: 458

Characters: 8/10 Atmosphere: 7/10 Writing: 7/10 Plot: 8/10 Intrigue: 8/10 Logic: 7/10 Enjoyment: 8/10 Rating: 7.5/10 (4 stars) Spice Level: 2/5

The review is hidden below due to spoilers.

What changed from the previous books:

The first thing I can think of to mention is the main plot. I am a sucker for nature-based quests, so as soon as it was clear that Keera was going to have to travel around Elverath to unlock the seals, and that they would unlock possible nature-based powers, I was hooked. I even made a list of locations where I thought the seals would be, based on the map and the hints provided (my theory was that the seals were connected to the different woods, so I looked for water bodies near them. I only got one location right tho).

Despite this, there were some plot parts that I disliked or that confused me. One of them being Killian's presence in Myrelinth because I was 90% sure Damien had ordered him to be locked his in room in Koratha, and even more because no one (particularly Keera) seemed to ask any questions about this. Of course this would be answered toward the end of the book, but I'd still have preferred if there had been some sort of explanation or mention.

Another part I didn't like (as I mentioned in the review of A Shadow Crown) was the possibility of a love triangle with Killian, Keera and Riven (if only I knew...), so when Keera kissed Killian (and he kissed her back) because she was hellbent on pushing Riven away, I was so angry I almost stopped reading the book. Props to the author for writing the chemistry between them so well (again, if only I knew) that it made me question if Keera and Riven were endgame or if Riven was going to die and she would end with Killian.

However I wasn't just upset with the relationship side of this scene, but also with Keera's dumb behavior, which brings us to...

Even though there is a content warning list at the beginning of the book and I clearly read 'relapse', I was not emotionally ready to read about Keera's relapse. The first few chapters were hard to read, but I'm glad Gerarda was there to get Keera's head out of her ass (I cannot believe I'm saying this!).

That was another pleasant twist I wasn't expecting. Gerarda turned out to be a character that I grew to love and admire, and I was especially happy to see her as another symbol of representation.

Let's now address the elephant in the room, the plot twist to rule them all. I felt like I hit a brick wall headfirst. It was one of those plot twists where I had to close the book and take a moment to gather my thoughts before I could proceed, because all I could think about was EVERYTHING that happened in the other two books, and how much foreshadowing I missed (I can't wait to reread the saga with a different set of eyes.

I always had a feeling of suspicion about Killian, but honestly, I thought it was because he was going to turn out being a spy to the crown or something. I am very pleased with the plot twist, although it was a bit hard to read the spicy scene the way it happened.

Two honorable mentions before I move on to the theories:

Keera's depression is so relatable. How many times did I have the same thoughts of "The time of easy days is gone, but perhaps they would be easier without me"? For the same reason, "Your mother felt everything as deeply as she could. it made her a fierce leader and a loyal friend, but it also made her lonely" is also something I relate to a lot.

Keera holding lightning was hot. When I read "You will be able to call storms and lightning at will" I almost died. Give me as strong, powerful woman who can wield lightning and I will fall at her feet.

Theories:

My theory of the lock of the power being connected to the King proved itself wrong, but I don't even care because I preferred the way it happened. I figured early on in the book that Riven's power was connected to the seals and he was going to die when the last seal broke, so I wasn't expecting him to actually survive, nor that he would become a Halfling, which I guess makes sense.

Because of this, I think that the reason why Riven was the way he was (Fae and Mortal) was because of his miskwithir connection to Keera. Like he was born with this power because Keera would need it in the future, and once she "siphoned it" (which is not confirmed but it's my theory), Riven no longer needed to be Fae.

Based off on that, I think Keera's blood is no longer Amber, because she went through a reverse transformation. Which means she's no longer Halfling but full Fae.

Let's talk about Collin (again). I should really trust my instincts. I had a feeling from the first moment that he was the mole, and turns out I was right, just... not in the way I wanted to be. Damien is a psycho and the way he used Collin is disgusting. I love it.

A quote that stayed:

A person only has as much power over our minds as we allow, Keera.

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

I wish my brain could stop being a simp long enough to tell you how butch Jenny is. This women kicks ass I swear, and I'm kinda afraid that her and Sue won't be as popular as Dan or Jacob because, well, sdj is all male love interests so that's kinda the audience you get

Please do not take this as me whining about my (basically) ocs not being popular (I'd have to make content for that to happen lol) it's just a fear I have with them I guess. I don't know, y'all haven't had em for very long, maybe you'll prove me wrong maybe not. I'll still force y'all to look at em anyway

Any way, Jenny's 5'7 and can lift Jacob (6'6 and built like a house) over her head. Have fun with that :D

So can Sue btw

[theficblog]

lil sis, i just came across this video and thought i'd share it with you T^TTT rmb when i told you najib was convicted recently? his wife who's as corrupted as him is convicted today too in a separate trial!!! it's a happy moment for me but i had tears in my eyes when i heard what the lead prosecutor of this case (Gopal Sri Ram, a former judge, now a private practitioner, but was specially appointed as the prosecutor for this case bc he is one of the best legal minds in this country T^T) replied to the reporter's question T^T:

"are you happy with the decision?"

"we're not happy or unhappy about anything. we just do our job, and we get on to the next case. it's not our role to be happy about someone else's grief."

T^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT it's things like this that reinstore my faith in humanity again T^TTTTTT

ive always thought that ppl who reach the highest level/position in their field, they have to be at least a bit "evil" to get there. but my naive thought & impression were slowly proved wrong as i meet some more ppl in those positions, who can still be genuinely kind and helpful..as if they stayed true to their hearts, and never conceded to anything that's against their values. i think that is such a precious trait a human can have. we dont have to harm ppl to "succeed", we could still be kind while doing what we think is right. T^TTT... my mum & family members always tell me that i'd have a hard time fitting in in this society if i remain this honest & straightforward. i know that too.. but this is how my mind works and what keeps me at peace, i cant do fake things to please ppl, that is just not me...(also bold of them to assume i ever think of wanting to "fit in with the society" 🤪) i havent been in the society for long, so idk how long i can "survive" here while being myself. i used to think that i have no fears, but now that i think of it, i think my biggest fear is losing my identity & my values...

however, whenever i lose hope in ppl or in life in general, it's ppl like him that remind me that you actually dont have to be evil in order to "succeed"...in the conventional sense. who defines "success" anyway? if i dont regret what im doing, and im not legally or morally harming anyone, i can be proud of my achievements too, right? i think everyone can define their own success while being true to themselves...♡

im so sorry lil sis, this entire message is so incoherent omg 😭😭 i hope you dont find this confusing 😭 but as i was typing this, it made me realise some things too T^T♡♡♡

Yes World Politics and Affairs is super duper interesting as usual. And the words of the prosecutor are so intellectual, no doubt he is on the topmost level with that kind of professionalism. Yeah I agree I think that too, as I have barely and kind of am yet to function in the society. That kind of scares me out too. It's so rare to find people who always stick to their morals even when things are hard and they have an easy way out of anything, and kindness is what matters at the end. Aww you don't need to develop a fear of those, you know who you are and I'm confident in you, also you don't ever need to fit in, you can be a misfit (get out of my ya'll~) I agree it's possible to find a sort of inspiration or motivation through anyone. Say that louder success is way more than a high paying job and big house. Success is probably that felling of content from the inside. Nahh, it wasn't, as I read through it I could make sense of it all. Also I love deep talks like these so much, thanks for this lovely ask, I'm sure you'll send more of these in the future as well >< ❤️

[mythundermeme]

100 lyric starters

notes: feel free to tweak details to fit the muses. do not add to this list. other meme blogs, please don’t reblog. (content warning: sexual themes, violence, death, suicide)

"Tell me, does that sexy gown say what she's got in store for her man?"

"I thought you would always be there to hold."

"The longer i must wait for justice, I grow ever hungry in the cold."

"Take from them just what they took from me."

"It’s hard to see a future when your purpose is your past."

"Shoot to kill and live to last."

"If loneliness is prison, every touch is liberation."

"I know good deeds don’t guarantee a path to some salvation."

"I’ve reclaimed just what they took from me."

"What I'd give and what I'd trade for all your flickers, your flickers of the light."

"You're just a bunch of lies."

"Oh, I have run to the letters that you wrote me."

"Oh, help me sleep at night."

"The morning fog and waking sun have healing ways."

"Gave up our lives just to find that it was not enough."

"Hope has no place here."

"Maybe the end we tried to avoid is already here."

"Some evil will never ever die."

"Even if it's in broken speech, I want you to tell me your pain."

"Pretending that the pain's worn off doesn't make you an adult."

"You're so precious to me it almost brings me to tears."

"All I fear means nothing."

"My heart's a battleground."

"You know that you're my super star."

"No one else can take me this far."

"You're giving me too many things lately. You're all I need."

"Don't get me wrong, I love you. But does that mean I have to meet your father?"

"Wish I could prove I love you, but does that mean I have to walk on water?"

"Whatever lies beyond this morning is a little later on."

"That's right, I heard the story. Don't really like how it ends."

"Did you think all this time that I wouldn't find out about you?"

"I'm the loser of the game you didn't know you were playing."

"It used to feel like a fairy tale, now it seems we were just pretending."

"Let's just live day by day and not be conquered by our sorrows."

"Can we get back to a happy place? We've suffered so much pain and sorrow."

"People make a history by threading the threads of love into it."

"We're the same, you and me."

"Love's the choice we made."

"Death can't bind our endless story."

"Pain is your reward for being near me."

"I am no one's blessing, I'll just bring you harm."

"Brother, you're safe now."

"Don't try to make yourself remember, darling."

"When I'm better, we'll do everything."

"I gotta stop making promises I can't keep."

"But if I was gone tomorrow, won't the waves crash on?"

"I told you to forget me, but you stayed by my side."

"I quite enjoy the life you say I'm trapped in."

"Well it's intriguing, but to go would cost me greatly."

"Your clothes might be dirty and covered with blood but i’ll still have a hot meal here waiting."

"Your heart is a safe place for others to land."

"You have two hands made to raise others up, and you have two clear eyes to see others with love."

"I’ll always be holding your heart and your hand."

"Without regret, I’d offer up my life."

"I would fly into the sun if that would keep our dream alive ."

"I will fight for you, no matter how I am despised ."

"No sleep until I'm done with finding the answer."

"I've been living for tomorrows all my life."

"They say that I must learn to kill before I can feel safe."

"I'd rather kill myself than turn into their slave."

"Feel me, touch me, heal me."

"Pretty little flower, won't you sit back down and go play nice?"

"My, oh my, look at who ends up bigger this time."

"Keep talking, keep laughing. One day you'll see what happens."

"Bury your doubts under the ground."

"Know I'm all bite, no bark."

"I'll stay so deep inside your brain and take you somewhere far away."

"Is it really a surprise if I'm playing with your mind?"

"Never had a soul, so you ain't taking anything from me when you go."

"A man learns who is there for him when the glitter fades and the walls won't hold."

"What are you willing to lose?"

"You're out of time, make your move."

"Kiss your perfect day goodbye."

"I had one thing, and you've taken it from me."

"You sent me back to nothing."

"Your best stuff looks like my worst."

"You look like you could use some more."

"What’s higher than the top? That's me."

"Wanna leave this hell, take me out, please."

"I’ll show you what I’m made of, rise to the occasion."

"You know your own worth very wel."

"You're not suited for the rage of war."

"Gonna break rules and hearts in twos."

"Only took a minute for me to get what you had."

"Way that I look should be breakin' the law."

"You know that I love the sound of applause."

"Sorry not sorry for bein' the best."

"I wanna hide the truth, I wanna shelter you."

"Don't wanna let you down, but I am hell-bound."

"Your eyes, they shine so bright. I wanna save that light."

"I can't escape this now, unless you show me how."

"Why would you dare me to do it again?"

"Don't ever say it's over if I'm breathin'."

"They said I wouldn't make it out alive, they told me I would never see the rise."

"Why worship legends when you know that you can join 'em?"

"You stood me up, who do you think you are?"

"Now it hurts to meet your gaze."

"Nobody showed me how to return the love you give to me."

"I never wanted to ever bring you down."

"You touched my body once, it burns me still softly."

[infinitebells]

Hello, I really like your blog a lot! If you still take them, I'd like to make a request. How about William Moriarty, Sherlock Homes, and Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen) neglecting their s/o because they are busy. But they make it up to them with a sensual and passionate night (nsfw pls). I hope this is okay. Take care! <3

oh yes this is brilliant. also i'm going to keep this gender neutral since a gender wasn't specified so it's smut very under the cut.

william

✧ at first you’re well aware that he hasn’t been spending time with you because he’s busy

✧ however, as time goes on, the self doubt gnaws at the back of your mind, and you don’t even realize just how much it’s been affecting you until you can’t even get out of bed one day

✧ all that runs through your head is that he’s probably neglecting you because he’s fallen out of love

✧ william’s been far to busy to see how much his lack of affection has affected you

✧ it isn’t until you can’t even look up at the table during breakfast to say hi to him, and when you do finally look up there are dark bags under your eyes and your eyes are extremely bloodshot

✧ when you see how he's staring at you in shock, you flee the table and lock yourself in your room for the entire day

✧ it isn't until it's almost midnight when william finally goes into your room, his mind running a mile a minute, that he realizes just how badly you've been feeling

✧ the entire day he had been thinking of ways to make it up to you, so by the time he's in bed with you, he already knows what to do

"my love, i'm sorry for neglecting you so much. allow me to show you how much i love you ok?" he says from on top of you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, swollen from you biting them. it was a nervous habit you had developed over the years.

"what do you mean?" your voice is soft, and he can hear the exhaustion in it.

"let me take care of you for the night okay?" he doesn't wait for an answer, unbuttoning the shirt you were wearing. he was pleased to see it was one from his own closet. his lips move from yours, traveling down your jawline and tracing the line of your neck. he hears a content sigh from you, and he smiles against your skin as he continue his path down your neck.

"will, if you don't love me anymore just tell me," his eyes widen as your words, one hand coming to rest next to your head as the other gently massages your hip.

"i'm so madly in love with you i can't imagine my life without you," he breathes out, moving back down to trail kisses down your naked front. "i'm so sorry i haven't been treating you the way you properly deserve," he murmurs against your skin. your honest whimpers shake your body upon feeling william's lips against your clothed groin, and you can feel his soft smile against you.

"let me treat you like the royalty you are,"

✧ ✧ ✧ 

sherlock

✧ he gets so caught up in his cases that he honest to god just forgets about anything else in his life

✧ he once forgot john at a restaurant they were having lunch at because he saw someone struggling with a mugger trying to steal their bag and he sprinted out to go help

✧ so you're used to him being an airhead sometimes and forgetting about spending time with you

✧ however, this time around it had been going on for weeks, and it was almost like you didn't even exist at this point

✧ the self conscious feeling had been eating away at you, and john had started to notice how you skipped meals with him and sherlock and how you rarely left your room unless it was to lock yourself in miss hudson's room

✧ once watson pointed this out to sherlock, he felt extremely stupid because how could he be so neglectful of his wonderful partner?

✧ he decides to surprise you, making sure you were tucked safely in miss hudson's room for the day so he could have time to prepare the surprise

"what is this?" your voice was shaky, the dry sobs from earlier still shaking your body. the room you shared with sherlock was awash in the gentle glow of candles on every available surface, and rose petals traced a path to the bed. sherlock was laid on top of the made up bedding, and sherlock himself was spread out on his side, his elbow on the bed as his hand supported his head. he was shirtless, loose pants barely covering his bottom half, and a beautiful red rose stuck between his teeth. it was a scene straight out of a romance novel.

"i'm making up for being a horrible, horrible boyfriend for the past few weeks," he informs you, the rose falling out of his mouth as his hand beckons you to the bed. you hesitantly edge forward, kneeling down on the bed in front of him. he could see how tense you were, body trembling as tears flooded your eyes. he got up from his spot on the bed, sitting cross legged as he drags you onto his lap, hands finding your face and holding you gently. he was scared if he held any tighter he'd shatter your delicate, beautiful aura.

"n-no, if you don't want to be together any-" his hand moves, palm covering your mouth as he shakes his head.

"you're not getting rid of me that easily. i'm here to stay, and i'm going to make up for not being there for you. i was a very stupid boyfriend, and i'm going to show you how much i love you," he murmurs quietly, hand tilting your head back as his lips find your neck. his touch is barely there, but as one hand finds your hip and the other holds your jaw in place to the side, you're aware of the fact that he's just getting started. he switches from kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder to biting down, hard, and pushing your hips down onto his. you can feel his bulge beneath you, and the moan that falls from your lips is involuntary.

"sherlock," you mumble out, eyes fluttering closed. his kisses and nips grow harder, and his hips gyrate up into yours at a steady pace. both of your breaths pick up, and both of his hands land on your hips and push you down harshly onto his. the groan that rumbles through his chest sounds heavenly, and it pulls a whine out of you.

"fuck darling, i missed you so much," he whispers against your neck, tugging at your night shirt before pulling it off completely. you're both topless, bare torsos pushed together as his finally pulls his face out of your neck and meets your gaze.

"i missed you too detective holmes," you tease, grinding your own hips down onto his. he groans loudly, flipping you two over. rose petals fly up beside you at the force, but your attention is on the man above you, and the aroused smirk plastered across his face.

"oh, i definitely missed this," he says before yanking your pants down harshly.

✧ ✧ ✧ 

gojo

✧ gojo-sensei honestly has a maximum of three thoughts in his head at all times, and no he's not stupid he just cannot focus on too many things at once or he'll get severely overwhelmed

✧ so between dealing with a reincarnated yuji, hiding his existence from the higher-ups, and dealing with multiple unregistered special grade curses, he just has not had extra time to spend with you

✧ you're well aware and understanding of his added stress, but your insecurities plague you despite knowing this

✧ the logical part of you knows he's just busy, but your negative thoughts simply weighed you down to the point where both yuji and nanami could see how tired you were

✧ gojo only realized how neglected you had been feeling when sukuna popped up on yuji's cheek to make a snide comment about how if gojo wasn't going to take care of his s/o properly, then sukuna would gladly take over for him

✧ immediately rushes home to spend the rest of the night with you

the frantic pounding on your shared bedroom does nothing to rouse you, and when gojo finally unlocks the door and rushes into the room, you're still laying on the bed with your back facing him.

"sweetheart?" his voice is soft, and you feel the bed dip behind you. you stay facing the wall, desperately hoping he won't see the tears sliding across your face. you're proved wrong when his hand tugs on your shoulder, moving you so you're on your back and his face is hovering over yours. his blindfold is hanging around his neck, blue eyes gazing into yours.

"yeah?" you can't stop how your voice cracks, and it only serves to further embarrass you. his face drops, arms pulling you close to him so that your body is beneath his as he hovers over you, one arm propping him up. the other hand rests on your cheek, and you can't help the onslaught of tears that follows his affection. your eyes squeeze shut, and you barely suppress a sob.

"shh, shh, no baby don't cry, i'm so sorry for how i've been acting. i've been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad boyfriend," he says, and his heart softens as he hears a small laugh from you at the reference to one of your favorite movies. "seriously sweetheart, i'm incredibly sorry for not spending time with you. am i allowed to show you how much i love you?" he asks, and when you open your eyes, you can't miss the signature mischievous glint in his startling blue eyes.

"how so?" he gazes down at your wide eyes, tears glistening on your lower lashline and mouth slightly agape in wonder. you look unbelievably beautiful, even in your sadness.

"by doing this," he leans down, kissing you deeply. you immediately respond, reveling in the sweet, familiar taste of the raspberry-flavored chapstick smeared across his lips. you don't taste it for long as his lips move to your neck, hands slithering down your body to yank at the sleep shorts sitting on your hips. once they're down, he leans back, throwing your legs over his shoulders as his lips press onto your groin through your underwear. you gasp at the feeling, warmth pooling in your gut. he smirks, hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs.

"and what exactly is this?" you're breathless as this point, face warm and legs borderline trembling as his face sits so close to your crotch.

"the physical act of love," his eyebrows wiggle seductively, and neither of you can keep your laughs in. even when he presses another kiss to your clothed area, you'll both always find humor in the love you share together. and gojo had missed seeing you laugh with his head between your legs. he was planning on imprinting the entire night into his brain after it was over.

[jrueships]

Oh please share all your thoughts regarding kyle/Demar. Im desperate for content too. Also, can you share that flop video? Their last game was 3 months ago cus Kyle didnt play in the one last month.

OOOOOOH okay YEAH that's what i was THINKIN!!! that the flop video HAD to be the one from 3 months !! YEAH okay YEAH my thoughts EXACTLY YOU OMNOMONO-S M A R T , anon !!!!!! I don't think this sentence made sense but whatever we move

HERES the flop vid!! Notice the tie and the quarter LOL klow RUTHLESS to his mans lol!

AS FOR MY THOUGHTS ON THEM...... let's Talk.

They sure do love taking turns staring at each other in manic Lust huh. Hashtag just guy things Girlpower !!!

FIRSTLY uh hmm WELL i think they are.. just such an Iconic ship like TRULY the BLUEPRINT. Even in a nonshippy sense, the way they tell each other i love you i love this man i love kyle he's my guy i'd run through 15 brick walls for him i love demar he's my best friend LIKE.. it's REAL it's an UNABASHED bond!!!! They are CLOSE! they LOVE each other they CARE for each other!!! SOOO much!!!!!! THEIR POWER... UNLIMITED! and of course serge tryna pit bad bitches against bad bitches in his how hungry deebo guest vid; he recognizes REAL!! Not just delusional TUMBLRINAS realize their INFLUENCE but like! Everyone does!! IT'S SO ELEPHANT!!! IT'S SO THERE!!! love that for them!!! And i think them being so 'popular' and loved scares me off from privately publishing any writings not ONLY bcs i don't wanna DISAPPOINT people that follow em religiously down to a T, but bcs like! KYLE/DEMAR SO GOOD!! i don't wanna TAINT it with a thought process that can be COMPLETELY wrong from the source! I CANT DO THEM LIKE THAT!!! You know like i LOVE THEM because they're TRUE LOVE but i also HATE them because they're TRUE LOVE like! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY OTHER THEN 'it's true love baby!!' Because it IS! it's so GOOD and DEEP and COMPLEX and i LOVE that but my brain NEEDS to be able to simplify things down to lil bounceable points so i can understand it better but i CANT?? i can't let my brain DO that to something so HUGE and AMAZING????? The way they INTERACT is so DYNAMIC and fun and full of LIFE and!!! 1 U DONT EVEN HAVE TO GO INTO GOBLIN MODE TO VIEW EM & POINT OUT LITTLE THINGS TO. PROVE THEY ARE IN LOVE LIKE! they just ARE everyone can SEE can KnOW its so STRONG!!! They're my og favs for a reason but i also Hate them for that reason..... gay people

FOR DEEPER THOUGHTS ON THEM THO.. ACTUAL ANALYTICAL THOUGHTS BESIDES 'theyre gay. They're husbands. We win!'

This is from a lil note in one of my MANY unpublished kyle/demar fics to help keep me on point, SO if i ever DO sum up the courage and publish a fic that kinda hints to this idea, you guys WILL act SURPRISED and HAPPY at this BRAND NEW UNEXPLORED IDEA into kyle/demar lol (it gets touched upon a Lot in the kyle/demar owner player fic which is ALSO very long and WILL be hidden from the general populace )

BUT TO ELABORATE UHHHMM hmm so like

People HEAR kyle. People hear his shouting, his demanding, his AWFUL jokes (deebo: the chips are down kyle: like? Potato- potato chips? *extends pop bottle microphone closer to demar's interview*), his loud laughter, his unnecessary SOUND effects with his unnecessary physical COMEDY ( s T O M P I N. wiTH. the. BIG. boYS !WITH... *swaggers away from his made shot as demar giggles. Probably emphasizing his stomps just to make demar laugh MORE), his smartass comments to reporters ignorantly written off as friendly cheekiness by them despite the OBVIOUS fact that he HATES them (EXCEPT when it's to talk about.. DE-MAAAR!!). KYLE IS.. heard. Does that mean he's LIKED??? um. Well.

Kyle can be .. bossy. To put it lightly. Or an ASSHOLE, to put it now DEMARLY(beloved) but DEROGATORILY. He can argue with coaches like it's a HOBBY! And refs! ESPECIALLY refs! He can argue with the other players!!! You tryna start a fight after we get ejected from a game? Alright, HERES MY ROOM NUMBER. Spoiler alert though, demar GONNA be there because we BOTH loyal af and we BOTH gonna whoop your ass so. have fun losing to homosexuality you sexless giblet ! EVEN IF KYLE ISN'T EVEN PLAAAYING, if a fight breaks onto the floor you can BET he's stepping up all suit and tie to put his two cents in. And people are gonna respectfully disrespect him for that! I mean like.. that's Okay, it's REASONABLE you know it's ALRIGHT. Kyle's been living his entire Life being disrespected so he's just disrespectful right back and that's FINE. it's a little tiring though. Never making someone happy. Never making people Smile because you're just. An asshole. BUt you ARENT juST An ASSHOLE!!!! youre actually REALLY funny and REALLY clingy and REALLY sweet and full of LOVE!!! just.. you know.. also full of... Opinions. Opinions you think EVERYONE deserves to hear DIRECTLY because you HATE fakeness. You also hate being boxed in too... so maybe youre Kind Of an asshole, YEAH so WHAT? thats not ALL? Sometimes you SAY things... yeah.. but youre.. more. Youre So much More. And no one wants to See that . . . And YEAH you COULD hypothetically 'change' that but then that wouldn't be YOU. So you'd rather live a life unloved than live a life not yours. You've already been doing it so long.

Demar is beloved. Like. Thats just FACTS! reasonable tangible understandable FACTS!! serge would PUNCH a man for even HINTING dislike toward demar! We ALL would!!! Deebo is nice and sociable and truthful, can hold pleasant small talk, responds to reporters with delightful little metaphors for rudy gay to question. DEEBO IS A K I N G !!! a pleasant MANNERFUL king! Elegant demarvelous GORGEOUS he is THE WORLDS girlfriend! We DONT deserve him!!!! you know.. he's good at decency. 'Deebo's a Nice Guy. He's known for freezing up during playoffs.. but he's Likeable. He's Nice. So he'll be OK.'

Deebo has the 'i can socialize well in small conversations and i WANT to act pleasant to others because i care for them!!' Attitude People go through where they're 'on good terms' with a lot of people but not... their Number one. Not really KNOWN for ALL that he Is. All that he DOESN'T say. Because what if people Don't want to hear it? What if people Don't want their 'perfect' image of Deebo destroyed? Marred by depressing thoughts, chocked uselessly full of silly Obsessions and Ideas. They just like Pleasant deebo.. Want pleasant deebo. So he gives them that. And represses what he thinks isn't needed. Hides it. Doesn't speak it into life. well- absolutes are Difficult. Sometimes he let's Some Things slip out. Just little things though. No one cares enough to put what he says into memory though. It doesn't make impact that way. He's content with it, he supposes. Because others are.

But. It really does feel Good being with Kyle. JOKING with him, TALKING to him, telling him all your 'silly little ideas', goofing off with him, proposing a MOVIE together, little roles they can fit (the matrix clip..), it feels nice BEING with him. Because he LISTENS. Even if others only see Kyle as this stubborn asshole who takes no opinion beside his own into account, Kyle really does Listen. He might make some snide comments in reply, but he Retains the information given.. the things said. They can hurt him, or they could make him feel Alive. Laugh. Kyle lives for pushing people past their 'Decent' boundaries at the beginning to see who they REALLY are.. the Extent of their Being. He gives them his 100% in search of 100% in return. And you can Bet Demar gives that to him plus More. Plus the moon and the stars and the old movies of his time and his dumb little dances and his musical aspirations and his bothersome interview interruptions and his Love... demar is More than willing to give Kyle EVERYTHING. Because Kyle Asks for his everything. WANTS his Everything. Kyle takes Demar's everything and makes it Beautiful. Let's demar know it's meaningful. He doesn't show it as perfectly Expected, but he Shows it. Demar tells Kyle about his rapping hobby on a lazy afternoon relaxing from another harsh conditioning morning. He tells it as nothing more than a mere Afterthought, just an excuse able comment sprung by music listening inspiration. But Kyle HEARS it, TALKS about it. He brings it up in an interview... the reporter didn't ASK for it. She asked about his favorite rapper. But because Kyle thinks about demar SO much and about EVERYTHING he says, the good, the bad, the Cringe, he brings DeMar's hobbies up. He doesn't EXPOSE them in DEPTH though, just gives them a shoutout. To let the people hear. And to let demar know he's Been heard

Demar thinks of kyle often. Feisty asshole kyle. Couldn't live without me kyle. The man i leaned down to while he was on the floor kyle. The man i told i'd be by no matter What kyle. Because no matter What anyone else thinks of him, Deebo will be there .

Because Kyle's a Listener.

And DeMar sees that.

It's the little things that count.

[shadowsinger11]

Taking Care Of You

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: Major fluff and also smut, oral (female receiving), first time with your adorable werewolf boy, the good stuff

A/N: Heyo did you really think I'd spend years in the fanfic world without writing content myself? I think it's time I finally share some of my writing on here. Wattpad was my old love but it now brings cringy memories of me thinking I can write lmao. Enjoyyy

Masterlist

Being friends with the infamous Marauders sure was an adventure.

No matter how many times you'd get in trouble because of their mischief-making, you couldn't help but love those dorks, always being ready to defend them if punishment was to be expected. In return, Peter, Sirius, James and Remus absolutely adored you and they basically adopted you as their own the minute you first stood up for them in front of your stoic and most of the time quite unfair Potions teacher. This was the beginning of a bond which neither of you thought you'd create. It didn't take them very long to trust you since you had proved multiple times that you're on their side and the boys loved having you around.

The whole school was aware of how close you were with the three pranksters but almost no one bothered to differentiate them - to Hogwarts, James, Remus, Sirius and Peter were just "the marauders". Very few people knew them individually and thought of them as separate people without having to associate one with the other two.

Needless to say, you were one of those very few people.

You loved each of the boys for their own personalities. They were so different but together they balanced each other out and that's what made them an unstoppable team.

Even though you had a strong friendship with all three, your connection ran much stronger with Remus. Due to him being way more caring and emotionally mature, he was able to understand you better and provide the best advice. At first you saw his intelligence as intimidating, worrying you'd accidentally embarrass yourself in front of him, but then you realised how much of an idiot Sirius could be around him so you began to get more comfortable. With time you also understood that Lupin was basically just a fluffy smart puppy.

His friendly but somehow shy personality was enough for you to trust him in no time and after awhile so did he. At first Remus was very hesitant to reveal his secret to you but instead of being scared or disgusted when you found out he was a werewolf, you were more intrigued than anything else.

Since then he'd be way more open about his feelings with you thus your friendship grew even stronger. You'd also feel free to share with him your struggles and count on him to help you out and cheer you up. Sometimes he'd take you out for a butterbeer and you'd spend a chill evening together in a cozy café.

If you were tired though, Remus would love to just lie down in his bed with you and cuddle.

Normally he enjoys being the big spoon, but he later found out he'd much rather bury his head in your neck or chest and wrap his arms around your midsection, tangling his legs with yours. This way he felt like he could truly protect you. You would always blush when he suddenly nuzzled his face into your chest, especially at first because you weren't sure what his feelings for you were.

When he later told you he was in love with you, it took you by surprise but the idea itself didn't surprise you. It just felt right.

Now the cuddling sessions felt much more intimate to both of you.

Remus could hear your heartbeat getting faster when he would occasionally press kisses to your neck or chest while basically being wrapped around you.

It filled him with pride when he looked up and saw how flustered you had become because of the gesture.

You would look down at him in admiration and run your fingers through his messy brown hair, trying to play off the fact that your mind was buzzing with thousands of thoughts. There was no hiding this from Remus, he could see your blushing cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes.

Sometimes he'd love to tease the hell out of you by continuously kissing and nipping at you sensitive skin until your breathing got uneven or you accidentally let out a moan.

The latter would give him a huge ego boost and he'd look all smug about it. He'd usually just genuinely smile at you but when he'd smirk at you during these moments, it made your knees buckle.

You'd discreetly try to relieve the tension between your legs by slightly rubbing your thighs together but Remus always took notice.

When it came to you getting dirty, it started off slow.

You were softly kissing on his bed, you straddling his lap.

Your kisses became more urgent and needy as you grabbed his soft hair. Remus tested the waters by moving his lips down to your neck. He knew you'd become flustered but he wanted to see how long he could keep doing this to you for.

Soon you were tugging at his locks and panting heavily, instinctively rubbing your clothed pussy up and down against his crotch.

Remus found himself getting hard on the spot. He wanted to have you right then and there but he knew he had to be careful with you.

"Is it okay if I take this off?" he asked, gesturing to your house themed shirt.

A little hesitant, you nodded and he peeled the clothing off your body. You helped him take off his own shirt as well, his Gryffindor uniform finding its place next to yours on the floor. However, you still had your bra on.

Once he reached to unclasp it, your smile faltered.

"What's wrong, my love?" he softly asked, looking up at his lover in concern.

"Nothing! I just… I don't think you'll like what you'll see…" you muttered in embarrassment. You had learned to dislike your body overtime, thinking your appearance would never make a guy find you attractive or desirable, but Remus was determined to help you change your mindset. He pecked your nose and looked into your eyes.

"My darling, I assure you there's nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, look at my scars. You still love me with them, huh? You like how I look," he stated, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "Even if you don't like your imperfections, I love them and I'll teach you to love them too. Now please let me admire you, sweetheart."

Always soft spoken, he never failed to make you melt with his words.

Now, a bit less hesitant, you let him take off your bra.

Once you were uncovered for him to see, he slowly trailed his fingers up your waist until he cupped your breasts. His fingers felt warm and soft against your skin. When you looked up at him, his reaction surprised you.

His eyes were significantly darker, eyeing you up and down hungrily. Something between a whimper and a growl escaped his throat and he whispered, seeming out of breath.

"My love, you're stunning."

His mouth found your nipple and you gasped in surprise, hands grabbing his shoulder as he sucked greedily. His fingers rolled your other nipple and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. You threw your head back as moan after a moan started falling from your reddened lips.

"R-Remus…" you breathed, mind dizzy with pleasure.

His eyes shot open and he looked up at you, "Yes, my love? Did I hurt you? Am I going too fast for you?"

You couldn't help but let out a laugh, "No, you're doing great! I'm quite enjoying myself actually." You playfully bit your lip, ruffling his already messy hair. He smiled, seeming way more relieved. Remus had to get used to you moaning his name and the thought of it filled him with joy.

He carefully laid you back down on the bed, capturing your lips in a long, deep kiss. His lips moved slowly against yours, tasting them as if for the very first time. When you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, you gladly let it in and your lover wasted no time to explore your mouth. The kiss swallowed your desperate moans and your hips involuntarily buckled to meet his.

Remus took the hint but instead decided to prolong this further by setting between your legs and dry-humping you. His clothed dick rubbed deliciously against your pussy and you were sure your panties were soaked at this point.

"Remus, please…"

Even though he enjoyed toying with you, Remus was pretty impatient himself so he pulled back and slipped down your jeans. He spread your legs wide and his lips twitched in amusement at the damp spot on your panties. He ran his fingers up and down your core and chuckled when you whimpered.

Remus finally peeled off your panties and stared at your red, swollen and incredibly wet pussy in all its glory.

And you saw it again - that same animalistic look of hunger on his face.

He licked his lips and growled quietly, making your thighs tremble before placing each of them over his shoulders.

Remus blew hot breath on your core and you sighed in anticipation. He used two fingers two spread your folds and inhaled your hypnotising scent.

Remus used the tip of his tongue to gently flick your clit and you yelped, you thought you could cum right there but he stopped. He licked a generous amount of your juices and slowly dragged it up before adding his lips to the mix and starting to french kiss your pussy.

Your head fell back down on the pillows, hands coming down to massage his scalp as your needy moans echoed in the room. Your hips involuntarily moved up to meet his mouth and he hummed in appreciation, the vibrations spreading waves of pleasure through your body.

Remus slightly pulled back and watched as he slowly entered two fingers into your pussy, a thick layer of wetness coating them. He moved them in and out carefully as he asked, genuinely concerned, "How does it feel, darling?"

At this point you were not in the state to form a proper sentence, "So good, oh my god… please keep going…"

Remus smiled to himself and went down to business, quickening the pace of his fingers. His tongue came up to play with your clit again but you truly lost it when he added a third finger, thrusting them rapidly as he sealed his lips around your clit, sucking harshly and massaging it with his tongue. You came hard with a loud moan, your juices gushing all over his fingers as Remus kept eating you out like a starving animal. He only stopped when you tugged at his hair since your clit had become sensitive and he crawled up to you, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"How was I, darling?"

"I think you already know the answer to that," you giggled, pressing a kiss to your lover's lips and he was quick to return it. His hands began to wander your body, eager to feel all your curves. His fingers left goosebumps everywhere they touched; your chest, your breasts, your neck, arms, thighs… Remus made sure to mark every single spot with his fingers and lips.

He quickly got rid of his boxers and your mouth watered when you saw his glorious length spring free. He wasn't very long but he was exceptionally thick and your pussy begged to have him buried inside you.

Remus began to grind down between your legs, looking up at you once more, "Do you truly want this?"

"Absolutely," you sighed, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured against your lips and slipped his cock inside of you. His thickness stretched you out much more than his fingers, your pussy eagerly welcoming every inch. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a moment to appreciate the feeling of being full up to your cervix.

"Does it hurt, my love?" Remus asked, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort.

"Not at all," you smiled. "You can move now."

And with that Remus laced his fingers with yours in a firm, but gentle grip and started to slowly pull out and then thrust back in deep inside until he filled you completely. And again. And again.

Your bodies moved in a passionate dance, your hips lifting up to meet his as he kept pushing into you.

Remus' grunts and gasps joined your moans and whimpers as you both clung desperately to each other. He picked up the pace, hips snapping into yours as his thick cock slipped in and out of your glistening pussy. Your back arched, your breasts brushing against his chest with every move.

Remus removed one of his hands and slipped it between your bodies to rub nice tight circles on your clit.

"Remus, I'm-"

"I know, just breathe."

The volume of your moans increased and so did the speed of his thrusts and fingers. You looked down at where your bodies met and you moaned at the sight of his thick cock frantically entering your wet pussy, hitting all the sweet spots. With one harsh thrust he spilled his seed deep into you which triggered your own climax, your pussy clenching tight around his cock and milking him for all he's worth.

Remus kept thrusting in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm, and then finally slipped out, lying next to you and hugging you to his chest.

You both started to laugh. You felt tired, absolutely spent, but you were also energised and refreshed.

"Did you enjoy it? Was I okay? I didn't hurt you, right?" Remus asked again while pulling the covers over you two.

"Remus," you placed your hands on his cheeks to make him face you. "I just had my first time and it was mind-blowing. You did amazing, I assure you."

He seemed visibly more relaxed now and looked down at you with such pure love you had never seen before.

"I am honoured to be your first and I'm immensely glad I satisfied you. You deserve to be taken care of in an appropriate manner."

You smiled at him, letting your fingers dance seductively along his chest, "Then what do you say you take care of me appropriately again?"

Reblog if you enjoyed my work!

Masterlist

[maoam]

Dont get me wrong, im not a fan of SS or NH either and i'd love to agree with your posts pointing out how stupid they are if so much of your opinion wasnt based on your fanon/interpretation of the character's personality especially sasuke and sakura's which are far away from how they are in canon. Sakura isnt some horrible mastermind witch who loves to manipulate people for her selfish gains and sasuke isnt some gullible kind hearted person who would just be manipulated or guilt tripped into being in a relationship he hates and even if he'd be "guilt tripped" into being in a relationship with someone it'd be karin since he ACTUALLY betrayed her after she tried to help him throughout his fight and didnt just try to kill her bc of self defence in case of sakura

Hell, naruhina comes off as more of a guilt trip relationship than SS since people literally keep TELLING naruto how perfect hinata is for her and how stupid he was for ignoring her and how his crush on sakura was bc of his rivalry with sasuke but noone asks him how he actually feels about her. He just gets put on in a genjutsu where he sees hinata stalking him and suddenly is in love with her. Even kishimoto admitted that he paired them up bc he felt sorry for hinata

If you are going to uphold some random badly translated or not even proven to be real interviews of kishimoto where he apparently says that sakura chased sasuke until he "gave in" as canon proof (which wouldn't even make sense since HE was the one to poke her forehead and tell her that he'll take her along with him next time) then you also will have to take into account all of the interviews where kishimoto says that he based naruto and sasuke from him and HIS BROTHER and that naruto and sasuke are REINCARNATED BROTHERS

You cant just use "" canon interviews "" to prove how a certain ship sucks but then ignore canon interviews which make you look like an incest shipper. Why not just write off SS and NH as incompatible ships and enjoy SNS content like the rest of us do? Posts like that are exactly why every other segment of naruto fandom mocks tumblr sns shippers

How do you just ignore Kakashi and Sakura both told Sasuke she suffers and cries herself to sleep from loving him? How is it any different from NH in the movie? Second, he never told Sakura he’d take her next time.

I have never referred to that interview anywhere in my posts for the exact reason no one has proven it’s real, when I say Sakura chased Sasuke I refer to what Karin said. The rest is the “addiction” comment and the comment about Sasuke dealing with Sakura by not being home. You clearly don’t even read my posts.

If even many in the Japanese fandom call Sakura a stalker and crazy then why can’t I?

There was one interview like that, personally I have never seen the original source for it but regardless, I have seen relationships in fiction before that are partly based on someone’s sibling relationship and partly on some other, Naruto and Sasuke don’t act like brothers for the most part, and Naruto kept insisting during the war they are not real brothers, but friends. If Kishimoto feels that way fully towards his own brother then I’m worried for Seishi. 😅 Also you didn’t really seem to understand how the Ashura/Indra thing works, there are couple posts about it in the sns fandom.

Please you are SS shipper in disguise, just block me and leave my inbox. Also why do you think I care what some random people outside of tumblr think about me? Also you lost every credibility when you said “makes you look like an incest shipper”.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Hello, everyone! A long while ago, I had this request sitting in my Inbox, and the entries proved too long to be all in the same post. I'd like to thank you all for your patience. This post focuses on Arthur and Lovino, but Ludvig and Gil's entries can be found here! Hope y'all enjoy~☆

England:

“Arthur?”

Curious eyes turned from the pile of papers on the desk before him, narrowing in confusion as he glanced between you and the clock.

“Everything alright, luv? It’s the middle of the night.”

Were you in better spirits, you would have pointed out the hypocrisy of his statement, the stacks of files, open ledgers, and cold tea all indication of his own insomnia.

But your nightmares kept tormenting you, Darkness tracing its finger along the fringes of every passing thought. You couldn’t shake the memory of the smoke, of the-

Weary, you heaved a sigh, your head dropping to rest at an angle against the bookcase. “Artie, I-”

His eyes flashed with alarm, recognizing immediately from your tone, from your inability to look at any one thing for longer than a moment- It was a haunted look that he had seen in the mirror far too many times.

You couldn’t believe that something so small and mundane had crippled you like this, shattering your defenses and leaving you piteously vulnerable.

You-

Arthur was surrounding you before you were even aware of his approach, the blanket that had been on his lap wrapping around your shoulders before he completely engulfed you in his warmth.

You resisted for a moment; you were surprised and unprepared for the sudden gesture. Slowly though, you let yourself collapse into him, face falling into his shirt and your eyes drifting shut.

For a moment, for maybe even an infinity, nothing existed except the blessed warmth around you, the familiar scent of shortbread and apple tea on each steady exhale teasing your neck.

His grip was firm, certain, strong, and so damned reassuring that your fingers were bunching into the fabric of his jumper, your own arms trying to pull him even closer.

You needed this assurance, needed proof that he was here, and he was yours, and that nothing would take that away from you.

Normally, he would tease you for your moments of intense affection, but he simply pulled you even closer, nuzzling into your hair.

You had no idea how long he held you, each breath tickling your skin, his heartbeat certain and steady beneath your ear. His grip never once faltered, the only change coming when he would shift his hand, fingers dancing with each new caress.

Your eyes had opened once more, and you found yourself staring mindlessly at the distant wall, watching the candlelight- he never outgrew the need of having one lit while he was working- dance with the shadows.

“What’s troubling you?”

His words were so quiet that you thought you had imagined them, going unacknowledged until he shifted once more, lips hovering near your ear. “Luv?”

You breathed a sigh, letting yourself cling to the temporary peace that was already starting to slip away, angling your own head to whisper your reply. “Just-”

You cut yourself off, a vivid, aggressive flash of your night-terrors breaking into your haven, stealing your breath once again. Your grip on his jumper, which had slackened considerably, strengthened once more, your passing panic having you bite your lip to keep yourself from reacting too severely.

“Dearest?” The concern in his voice nearly shattered you, your eyes slamming shut as you buried your face into his chest once again.

“Just hold me, please.”

You hated how pitiful you felt, how weak you must sound. You could only imagine his expression right now, could only imagine what he must think of you.

He said nothing, half confirming your fears. But when he sighed out your name and pressed a firm kiss to the top of your head, you felt them dissipate entirely.

You let yourself simply cling to him again, soaking his warmth into your bones.

He was here, and you were safe.

There was only this small bubble, the sanctuary of his embrace.

“I-” Your voice came out in a small crackle, throat drier than you had realized.

Arthur hummed in curious encouragement, drawing away enough to tuck his finger beneath your chin, drawing your gaze up to him.

The warmth, the concern, the love-

You cleared your throat before speaking once more. “I had a nightmare, and this one kind of-” You trailed off, searching for the right words, but nothing came to mind apart from: “It kind of fucked me up.” Your voice seized towards the end, words almost catching in your throat.

There was a flicker of conflicting emotion in his gaze, passing in merely a moment. His thumb brushed against your arm, his expression softening. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Part of you ached to do just that, to tell him of the eyes and flames that had invaded what had been an otherwise pleasant dream. Tell him that-

But you couldn’t find the words, thoughts instead shifting to your original goal, sudden bashfulness making your voice drop to near silence.

“Actually, I was hoping you could make me some tea? If you’re not too busy?”

Arthur offered you a pointed look, one fully conveying his disbelief. “As if I could ever be too busy for you.”

You felt yourself melt at the sincerity in his words, a warm wave of comfort enveloping you from the inside out.

Even these few moments with him were enough to soothe your restive heart, his words as he walked you to the kitchen weaving through your spirit.

Sitting on the countertop, listening to him recite a small spell into the electric kettle, measuring the perfect ratio of lavender buds and lemon juice, you felt your fears trickle away even more.

Whatever demons that had crept into your dreams were powerless, every lingering trace of their presence banished as Arthur pressed another kiss to your brow, gentle arms once more enveloping you in his warm embrace.

Romano:

You weren’t entirely sure how long you had been standing by the window, watching, yet unseeing, the city below.

Your dreams had been filled with darkness, ghosts that were beyond your reach, continuing to haunt you for what must have been hours.

Your only reassurances came from the hum of the room’s mini-fridge and Lovino’s breathing, a familiar not-snore serving as a steady melody in the otherwise too-quiet space.

You rested your forehead against the glass, eyes slipping shut once more as phantasms tried again to harass you, their words and accusations and remarks incomprehensible, yet still leaving you raw.

It was most irksome that they were from your distant past, memories weaving together and leaving you hopelessly vulnerable.

You huffed silently to yourself, unaware of the shifting figure in the bed behind you, oblivious to the exhausted, anxious eyes that had been searching for you, ignorant of the plaintive gaze that was steadily tracing across your form, the narrowed brow and worried frown as he vacated the bed.

Hearing your name pulled you from your thoughts, your companion’s approaching trudge making you open your eyes.

You frowned, upset that he had awoken to find you like this, almost ashamed of the amount of apprehension to his expression.

“What’s wrong?”

You offered a small hum, a tired shake of the head. “Just- nightmares.” At his look, you were hasty to reassure him, hand waving the concerns away. “I’m okay, Lovi.”

The deadpan countenance he cast your way revealed just how obvious your lie had been. “Certo. Of course you are.”

You huffed in irritation once more, yet again turning your focus to the overcast skies, taking in the brushes of light pollution against the low-hanging clouds. You tried to ignore him, but his footsteps only brought him closer, his warmth radiating against your back.

His arms eased their way around you, his fingers weaving with your own, before he tugged you back into his embrace. He was all-but surrounding you, his chin settling on your shoulder.

He began to hum, gently using his position to guide you into a small shuffle, slowly shifting your weight from side-to-side.

You felt your eyes close on their own accord, the smallest hints of a smile tugging at your lips.

The memory of your nightmare- the fear, the adrenaline- was fading away to a wisp, disappearing as his humming slowly shifted into coherent lyrics, each note teasing your skin, the tempo of the impromptu dance increasing ever-so-slightly.

Not that you could really call it much of a dance; if anything, it was more swaying in place, the city lights beyond the window twinkling with the passing traffic.

You weren't entirely sure how long the two of you lingered there, he pressing kiss after kiss to your shoulder, your cheeks, your neck- Any piece of exposed skin he could find fell victim, the soft brush of his lips accented with each line of the lullaby.

You guided his hands, still carefully intertwined with your own, to your upper arms, tugging him into a firmer hug.

He released a soft chuckle as you let yourself surrender entirely, standing only through his careful balance, his embrace tightening slightly.

His lullaby faded for a few moments, his temple resting against your own as you both watched the world beyond your window.

"Feeling better," he breathed, pitch deeper in his fatigue, the whisper teasing your skin.

You hummed in affirmation, closing your eyes and letting your posture droop, confident in his ability to support both of you.

Somehow, you weren't sure how, just being surrounded by his warmth, having his arms around you and another firm kiss lingering against your cheek, this was enough to chase the remnants of your passing nightmare away, all the echoes of the past crumbling to dusty ruins.

You offered a sigh, squeezing his hands in assurance; you could tell by the tension in his posture that he was still worried for you, unsure how else to comfort you.

Slowly, you turned to face him, dropping your head into his chest as you tugged him closer, sighing deeply in contentment when he started to massage your back.

Each light scratch with his nails brought another wave of sleepy pleasure, senses nearly overwhelmed when he started to hum yet again, his lips pressed to your hairline.

His swaying continued, steady, slow, subtly shifting so that you were making your way back to the bed.

You offered a small sound of protest, quickly swallowed as he shifted his fingers once more, intentionally massaging that one spot that always made you melt.

"Ass," you half-whined, half-sighed, earning another quiet chuckle.

There was nothing left of your dreams, consciousness scarcely keeping its fragile grip on you as he continued his ministrations, guiding you back down to the mattress, his words making you shiver as he whispered into your ear.

"Torni a dormire, amore."

There was still some sort of protest in your mind, some fleeting reason your mind wouldn't let you relax. But with each steady brush of his fingers, and the ebb and flow of his singing, you couldn't-

"I'm right here. You're safe."

You felt yourself collapse entirely at those words, unsure if your praise and adoration were even spoken aloud, or merely the final passing fragments of coherence, his singing guiding you into a peaceful rest.

[forever-rogue]

If you're still doing the Halloween/Autumn prompts, I'd love to see Frankie + 15 ("Making out in a graveyard?") please! 🥰

15.  “Making out in a graveyard?”

I love this 😌😂 Hopefully its not too horrid!

Can I also interject that my first thought was: Reader and Frankie making out in a graveyard are offing an burying Tom? 😌

Either way, this is not what happens, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

»»————-　♡　————-«

"This is it," Frankie said in a hushed whisper as he trailed close behind you. He was trying to remain as silent as possible, but it proved to be a challenge as he kept crunching all the leaves and twigs under his feet, "this is how I know you've lost it!"

"What?" you asked as you turned on the heel of your boot, shining your flashlight at him. It was nearing midnight, and almost pitch black, the sole source of light being the two old flashlights you'd thought to bring with you.

"This," he almost groaned as he threw up his hands in exasperation, "us going through a graveyard in the middle of the night! How did I let you talk me into this?"

"Oh," you snorted with a dry laugh, making your way back to him as you placed a kiss on his cheek, "its fine, it'll be fine. Besides, its just a little bit of spooky season shenanigans. Nothing is even gonna happen."

"And what if it does?" he pouted lightly as he shined his flashlight around to make sure there was nothing was lurking about, "you're the one that wanted to go ghosting hunting. You've been watching too much Unsolved."

"Don't worry, my love, if anything scary comes up, I will keep you safe and sound," you reached up and gently touched his cheek, which caused him to lean into your touch instantly, "you are my heart and soul, mi alma, I would never let anything happen to you."

"Shouldn't I be protecting you?" he laughed lightly as you pressed a kiss to his soft lips.

"Nah," you insisted, "sometimes its my job to keep you safe. We're a team, Frankie, we work together. You don't have to handle everything on your own."

"Why does that feel like a lot more than just referring to this situation?" he asked as you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Because it is," you promised, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "do you trust me, Frankie?"

"With my life," he said softly as you beamed at him. Your smile was so bright he didn't need a flashlight to see that.

"Then come on."

You trekked through the large, seemingly ancient graveyard for sometime in silence. The only sounds were the crunching of leaved and woodland creatures coming alive with the evening. But eventually, you reached your final destination, motioning for him to follow you through a thicket of branches.

"Are you-"

"Trust me," you whispered, stepping through them and pulling him along with you.

Frankie sighed deeply before stepping after your almost tumbling to the ground after tripping over a gnarled tree root. But you were quick to catch him and help him to his feet.

Before he could say anything, you put a finger to your lips and gestured for him to look around. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as he studied your surroundings.

In the clearing was a beautiful, large lake, surrounded by lightly glowing lanterns, and a big, open gazebo. It was both beautiful and haunting in the best of ways. You'd discovered this place a long time ago, finding it a quiet and almost completley abandoned little sanctuary. You had been eager to show him this place for some time, but trying to figure out how to convince him to come was a whole different story.

A smile slowly crossed his features as he took it all in. There were beautiful wildflowers growing all around, nature reclaiming some of the manmade structures, but there was something so beautiful about all of it.

"What do you think?" you asked softly as you followed him, "pretty cool, huh?"

"Its wonderful," he admitted, "strange but beautiful. How did you..."

"I found a long time ago when I was hiking and took a wrong turn," you admitted, a sheepish grin crossing your features at your lack of sense of direction, "and came across this place. I think most people have forgotten about it. But someone comes here enough to keep up the lanterns anyway. I thought it was strange, but wonderful. Like a hidden little secret. And now you know, so it'll be our secret!"

"So, let me get this straight, you tried to convince me to come to go ghost hunting in the middle of the night only to show me this?" he asked as you nodded, giving him an innocent little shrug.

"Surprise?" you waved your hands a little, trying to decipher his response. His shoulders shook as he hung his head, a bemused expression on his handsome face.

"You are something else," he said as he walked into the open gazebo, holding his hand out to you, "but I love you, Honey Bee. You and all your little crazy plans."

"I love you too, Frankie," you said as you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, resting your head on his back, "thank you for always putting up with me."

"Putting up with you?" the warm sound of his laughter reverberated through his chest, causing you to feel wanna and content, "I don't just put up with you. I love you - every little part and parcel."

"And I you," you said as he spun you around and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against him, "wanna do something real crazy?"

"Crazier than trusting you with my life under the rouse of ghost hunting?" he asked as you laughed, "sure, hit me."

"Wanna make out in a graveyard?"

He stopped for a moment before he burst into laughter at your suggestive little wink. The sound of his soft, sweet laughter brought a smile to your own face. You really loved every part of this man.

"I mean, technically we're not in a graveyard-"

"This is part of the graveyard..."

"Is it really?"

"It is."

"Fine.

"Fine," you agreed with a giggle, "I always win."

"Not always-"

"Hey Frankie?"

"Hmm," he hummed as he brought his hand up to your face, gently touching over your features.

"Are you gonna kiss me now?"

"Yes," he said softly as he ghosted his lips over yours, "I love you, silly girl."

"I love you, silly-"

But he cut you off by finally passing his lips against yours and kissing you gently, softly, but still with a deep sense of passion. You grinned against his lips as he held you close. It was unconventional, but sweet. Just like everything was with the two of you.

But the moment quickly ended and you pulled apart when you heard the loud crunching of leaves nearby, followed by what sounded like a series of heavy footsteps approaching the two of you.

"What was that?!"

"I don't know," you said nervously as you liked around, "you heard that too?"

"Yeah," he held you tightly, "I think its time to get out of here."

"Good idea," you agreed, "we can continue this at home."

[boy-above]

Please, anymore thoughts on Kokichi?? I'd love to hear you infodump :) love your content btw

aaa omg :0 it’s a little embarrassing infodumping publicly aaaa but i’ll do it, here’s some thoughts abt him.

for starters! i think kokichi is locked into position of antagonist very early on and doesn’t really have a chance to fight it. this is partly his fault of course, i believe the reason he’s so rude and hostile is so he keep his distance from people as he doesn’t trust any of them. he reiterates many times that this is a game of suspicion and he will not let himself fall victim to someone by trusting them. he doesn’t want to appear vulnerable either so he doesn’t allow anyone even a glimpse of his true feelings most of the time, he lies so much so even when he does express true feelings, you’ll never know if he’s being serious or not.

but this also means that no matter what he does during the game, even if it’s an action that has good intentions or is for the better of the group, it will be met with hostility because everyone assumes from a very early point that he does not have their best interests in mind. this means he would literally be unable to redeem himself in their eyes because they’ve already decided that he’s a bad person no matter what. even if he started acting nice and doing everything right, people would continue to think hes scheming and is up to no good.

for example, kokichi reveals to everyone that maki is the ultimate assassin, but the others kind of treat him like an asshole for it. kokichi was doing the right thing here! everyone deserved to know that there was a professional killer among them, someone who was guarding an entire room full of weapons!! but he’s vilified for doing this. also, something big that always makes me upset, is the fact that people routinely disregard kokichi’s safety and well-being. someone he just outed as a murderer is standing there strangling him and nobody does anything to help him. then of course there’s the scene where he’s busted his head and is covered in blood and very obviously woozy and not okay, but everyone is just annoyed with him and nobody helps him. he doesn’t deserve that. everyone hates him so much.

and it comes to a point where kokichi weaponizes everyone’s hatred and mistrust of him against the mastermind, by trying to convince everyone that he Is the mastermind in his plans to hopefully end the killing game. and everyone eagerly believes it because they’ve already all got huge hate boners for him, it seems obvious to them. everyone is willing to believe he orchestrated the whole situation they’re trapped in and that he’s a remnant if despair, despite the fact that there’s actually very little evidence for it. everyone except shuichi, who later goes out of his way to prove his suspicions that kokichi isn’t the mastermind nor a remnant of despair to clear his name. which brings me to! why kokichi hates kaito and why he feels that he can trust shuichi.

kokichi is a very logic over feelings type of guy, and feels that blindly trusting people just because you think they’re your friend is a very dangerous mindset to have, in this situation at least. this is why he butts heads with kaito a lot. kaito is someone who even got mad at shuichi for accusing gonta in his trial, even though gonta Was the culprit and everyone else would be executed if they voted incorrectly, all because kaito’s belief in trusting others was so strong. kaito is very feelings over logic. kaito has a very firm stance on what he believes is right and wrong and he’s Stubborn as fuck about it. that’s part of the reason i don’t really care for kaito, he can get very preachy at times and let’s his feelings get in the way of finding the truth. he seems to feel morally superior to people in a game where morals are simply not black and white in the way he thinks they should be.

which brings me to why kokichi feels he can trust shuichi and only shuichi!

kaede was shuichi’s closest friend in the game and he did not let his feelings get in the way of naming her as the culprit. if he had blindly believed in her and refused to name her as the culprit despite all the evidence pointing towards her, everyone would have died. it completely tore shuichi up inside to send kaede to her death, it absolutely devastated him, but he did it for the sake of the group. it’s this moment where i think kokichi started taking an interest in shuichi. this is someone who understands the game and understands what has to be done to protect everyone. you can’t get everyone there killed just to protect one person, no matter how close with them you are. i think it’s from here that kokichi slowly started gaining a crush on him as well. i headcanon that kokichi didn’t have much interest in him before he actually saw him in action during the trial, when he entered “detective mode” and got all serious.

i don’t think this is a complete lie! i don’t think he’s saying he’s in love with him or anything, but i do think it’s true he likes shuichi most out of everyone there. he thinks shuichi is the most interesting and trustworthy and probably does think about him a lot. he does a lot of thinking, the gears in his head are always turning, i get the feeling he doesn’t get a lot of sleep with how much he’s always thinking. it honestly makes me pretty sad thinking about him staying up all night thinking about his situation and trying to plan how he’s going to end the game, all while being super isolated from everyone else and not having any true friends.

which takes me to another point!

kokichi ouma is a super tragic character. i don’t care what anyone says, i don’t believe having this interpretation of him is “woobifying” him or anything similar. this right here? he’s telling the truth. nobody would care if he died, and nobody Did care when he died. everyone was sad about kaito, there was hardly any talk about kokichi. kokichi died a sad, lonely, unceremonious death. nobody cared when he had blood oozing from his head, nobody cared when maki was strangling him, nobody cares about him.

he was right. kokichi was always alone, through the whole game. he died alone. and i do think that this coming from shuichi probably hurt. shuichi was the only person there who he thought he could maybe trust. and kokichi did get what he wanted, he needed Everyone to hate him so they’d all believe he was the mastermind if he wanted his plan to work, including shuichi. but i don’t think he was prepared to hear shuichi say this specifically, i think it really hit close to home which is why it shut him up the way it did. and remember, kokichi Did try to ask shuichi to be in on the plan!! during chapter 4, as they were exiting miu’s vr world, he did attempt to ask shuichi to be his accomplice in a very roundabout way, but shuichi ignored him and exited the program. there could have been a world where kokichi and shuichi worked in tandem to try to end the killing game.

which brings me to why i ship saiou. i love saiou a lot. it’s my comfort ship and it makes me very happy. part of it is that kokichi is my comfort character and i project very heavily onto him. as ive mentioned above, i think kokichi trusted shuichi, was interested in him and he was kokichi’s favorite. i think he had feelings for shuichi and it’s very comforting to imagine shuichi returning his feelings and kokichi getting to be happy. i love aus where kokichi has friends and people actually try to know him and see through his lies, don’t accept them for face value. that’s also why i think kokichi liked shuichi, everyone else took him at face value and didn’t try to look below the surface at all. shuichi was interested in kokichi, interested to know what made him tick and why he did the things he did. he cared enough to want to find out. towards the end of the game shuichi did get very tired and couldnt find any logic in his actions anymore, and ultimately did give up, but once kokichi was gone his conviction to know kokichi’s true intentions came back again.

I think overall kokichi actually was lonely and wanted someone to care about him. i know the ftes aren’t technically canon but they Are canon compliant and are in character. kokichi’s feelings for shuichi are obvious. kokichi wants to spend time with shuichi and do silly things with him like playing yugioh and having tea parties. kokichi played Rock Paper Scissors against shuichi One Hundred times and shuichi kept playing. and at the end when kokichi got all giddy when shuichi was bandaging his cut, i think he was so excited because someone cared about him. someone cared about him enough to bandage his cut and just that little thing is enough to make him bashful and happy because he isn’t used to being cared for. that’s why i ship saiou, i just want kokichi to be happy and shuichi can make him happy. out of everyone shuichi tried the hardest.

anyway i think that’s all i got! please nobody @ my about my interpretations lol

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 7 "Beware of Young Girls" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

If we're ever gonna find out what happened to that baby, we have to figure out who that woman was.

That got way out of hand.

I think I figured out what my problem is. I'm way too nice.

This is what happens to sneaky backstabbers.

Just so you know, I took all your clothes.

It's too bad you had to die before we found out what ethnicity you are.

God, I loved porking you so much.

Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today because a backstabbing little bitch got exactly what was coming to her.

I have a colonic!

You were a stupid, little trollop, and I hope you're burning in hell right now.

There's nothing left to talk about.

Do you find it so shocking?

And you tried to frame me for murder!

I promise to never betray your trust again.

You most certainly won't betray my trust ever again, because you will never have my trust ever again!

It has two dancing demons, a dead old lady and cute little pentagrams.

I am going to prove that bitch wrong!

I told you to get rid of him!

I do not want to hear about how this is hard for you, okay?

Now, will you please go kill some people?

Okay, I'm not totally sure you understand how fashion works.

In, like, five years, my clothes are gonna be super hip again.

I like the borderline-creepy way he looks out for you.

He's kind of the perfect guy.

Well, thanks for being cool with me.

I haven't been inside here in a while.

He was in his mid-50s, so he could only get it up, like, once or twice a week.

Tell us something you learned this week about what it means to be a woman.

Everywhere I'd go, she'd just be there, dressed exactly like me.

Hey, did you spill ketchup in the shape of an arrow on the floor?

Are you having sex with a goat?

You looked me in the eye and promised me you would try to be monogamous!

I am breaking up with you.

You are gonna close that door, and you're gonna hear me out.

My whole life, I've lived with a secret shame. And that secret shame is that-- I'm lactose intolerant.

Lactose intolerance afflicts around 50% of the human population, who spend their entire lives walking past Baskin Robbins knowing that if they even have a little bit of ice cream, they're gonna fart a bunch. And if you weren't so ignorant, and you cracked a book every once in a while, you would know that goat's milk, it's lactose free.

I'm so sorry I doubted you.

Look, if it makes you feel any better we can totally bang if you want.

I mean, I knew I had had one hurricane too many, but let's be honest, one hurricane is one hurricane too many.

When my mouth has been where it's been on your body, I think we can safely say we are more than kind of friends.

Look, this is super awkward, but someone killed and dismembered your ex-husband last night, and they put his head in a fish tank.

Seriously, you're under arrest.

They don't care. They're nuts.

I was just doing a little sketching.

Designing formal wear is an old hobby of mine.

Look what I've been able to accomplish with a little free time.

No booze, obviously, but the meds are divine. The little blue ones make you feel like your organs are floating in a warm bath.

I don't trust a girl with a huge bush of pubic hair. Makes me think she has something to hide.

I specifically told you I cannot eat deli meats. The sulfites in them send me into anaphylactic shock. No salami and certainly no bologna!

I want you to know that I think you killed them all, and I hope you get the electric chair for it.

I've frickin' had it with you!

Technically, she just said that he was cheating, but she never said anything about a goat.

Don't interrupt me when I'm talking to a dead girl!

Why do you have nine tampons? How big is your cooch?

I really think we should stop, because this is really, really freaking me out.

No, hooker! We're not stopping.

Have fun in hell going to dinner with Osama bin Laden.

But, I mean, can we really trust a satanic talking board?

Talking boards tend not to hold up in court.

I say we poison her bras.

We have to be super sneaky about it, because if we're not, she'll smell a rat and kill us first.

What the hell is a sugar party?

We were just talking about throwing a sugar party.

I thought you were dead.

I am dead. I'm burning in hell.

I came back from the grave to apologize to you.

Yes, there are waterslides, but they're lined with razor blades and you splash down into a pool of boiling pee.

As soon as I got there, I was like, "Where are the dinosaurs?"

I guess I was just intimidated by your beauty and intelligence.

I was just jealous. I wanted what you had, and I really needed my tube packed.

I accept your apology. And I'm sorry you got murdered and are dead.

Well, looks like I'll have to kill them first.

Be the bigger person!

Now rise up and be the leader I know you can be.

Yeah, I just, I just get a little faint when I see blood.

A perfect DNA match. That is what the lab said.

It's pretty suspicious behavior.

Oh, Mommy's home.

She's what a psychiatrist friend of mine refers to as a "capicolaphilist" which is not, as I thought, someone who's turned on by the sight and feel of lunch meats but, more disgustingly, someone who's turned on by someone who pronounces bologna the way it's spelled;"bow-log-na."

You're plotting to murder me.

What I'm curious about is what, exactly, is taking so long?

Rat poison only works because rodents don't have a gag reflex. If you gave a human rat poison, they would immediately puke it all up. So not only would I have survived your attempt on my life, it would have also made me skinnier.

It was stupid to try to murder you.

I'm willing to let bygones be bygones and chalk this attempted murder up to youthful enthusiasm.

Here's to young girls getting what they had coming to them.

You know what they say-- "nothing tastes as good as revenge feels." Actually, they don't say it. I just sort of made that up.

I've got to stay focused.

Are you hungry, 'cause I'm hungry.