#which is that yes while their relationship is tender and fragile and all those wonderful things we root for and want to exist

[averysaurus]

Ohmygod, oh my god, oh mygod ohhhmy godddddd 

[darlingpwease]

Your omega!MING YI is so charming.

You didn't miss his red flags, you found them hot; unsociable, quiet, not loving other gods and uncooperative, but then why so smart, beautiful and pleasantly smelling? Maybe he does not make contact, but you are not one of those who are ready to give up quickly — even if you respect the choice of omega, when you see that he does not seek to push away or cling to you like a proud beauty, you prefer to take it as a sign of interest and acceptance of your attempts to woo the Earth Lord especially when you start emotionally courting him.

Physical comfort and emotional interest are the simplest methods — and they work surprisingly well when you bring him snacks and reinforce them with your voice, creating emotional comfort and an association between a pleasant taste and your voice. He is a bit frosty — perhaps too strong will, along with logic, coupled with a lack of expressed emotions, as if his world consists of cold shades and invited tones — and his eyes glow like burning ice, as if he should not be an Earth Lord, but Ice or Water; you still smile gently, disarming he is your affectionate and courteous, to which he has nothing to answer at first, which you use, continuing to court.

MING YI does not like to build nests — “... does not know how” — but you absolutely do not mind; Shi Wudu also does not build nests and hates to do this, although he is very picky about physical comfort, while Shi Qingxuan, although omega-like, rather creates a chaotic something more like a house after a tornado than a beautiful nest, but no less picky and loves beautiful soft nests since childhood. You can perfectly build a nest for him yourself — you, uh, are all for the emancipation of omegas and their independence from "instincts"! Omega shouldn't be able to build a nest and shouldn't build a nest if he doesn't want to! Your omega is wonderful just the way he is! Your omega is so charming and incredible that it will be an honor for you to build a nest for him!

... Yes, even when he refuses your "mark", although you are sure that he also agrees that you has a stage of "everything is serious" rather than "flirting", you calmly agree — which Shi Wudu is not very happy with, even if you are sure that he will also never allow anyone to leave on himself mark — because you, as you stated earlier, are sure that this is not the most important thing. After all, there is a more important indicator of your relationship than just a bite on the neck, isn't there? If you only wanted to bite, you would buy yourself a teething toy rather than trying to convince or insist on such a thing; If he is uncomfortable, you have no right to force or go against his will, you are not so desperate.

It's just good for you when your omega is around, when he lies or sits in your nest, when he eats everything that you cook for him and does not want to leave your side for a minute, as if you really are a married couple, although you don't dare to talk about this yet, preferring to conveniently redo your chambers to he felt good and comfortable. You don't want him to experience stress when moving, even if you know how unassuming he is and easily physically gets used to any conditions, as if considering his body an endless source, and reacting almost adorably when he realizes that this is not the case, and although his eating habits disturb you, you are sure that you will come up with something, caring about him and pampering him as your, well, almost-husband?

Oh, you adore your beloved so much, you are not sure if there is anyone in the world who would also be whipped up by their omega, but you can't help but love him, especially when MING YI defenselessly clings to you and your heart explodes, feeling how fragile and tender he is under the whole shell, even if his body is cold — you are sure that you will warm him.

... You really don't know what went wrong when your Ming Yi, your omega, your beloved, looks down at you, looking at your slightly trembling body, bandaged, full of horror and fright. You want to say something — you are not my omega, where is my Ming Yi, who are you, why are you keeping me here, how are we connected — but it's stupid to even try to pretend that you don't recognize the smell for which he was often praised by you, or the gleam in the heart-freezing burning eyes that you they used to be called "sultry cold", flirting, seeing that your omega needs more emotional actions and sweet atmosphere to open up into a modest coquette, but now they only make you feel frozen from the horror blocking your throat when you can neither move nor use your strength.

“What happened?... Now you don't want to mark me?”

You want to ask where Shi Wudu or Shi Qingxuan is, why you are here, why you don't see anyone, but you can't make a sound when you inhale, just to let the even more aggressive, burning cold, but still dizzyingly sensual fragrance captivate you.

When he sits down next to you, forcing you to press your back against the wall, just to cling to your hot, burning body with his cold, like a cat, you can't help but consider what is happening nothing more than surreal — especially when you see the thin lines of his collarbones and the delicate skin of his shoulders and neck, unnaturally white, but looks too attractive, and perhaps, perhaps, the fact that you so easily experience hunger and the need to dig your fingers into his body and teeth into his neck makes you a little less "supportive of the emancipation of omega and believing that omega should not be bitten."

“Bite.”

And you do.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Guerrerita

Part 2 ->

Summary: Nevada takes you out on a fancy date and things go poorly.

Nevada Ramirez x Feral Female Reader

Warnings: allusions to domestic violence but no actual domestic violence, just some assumptions based on Nevada being generally an asshole.  A bit of regular violence though. (OK, you know that trope where the Honorable Tough Guy beats up a stranger’s abusive husband to teach him a lesson?) Mature content, but no smut this chapter.

1,796 words

While most people would consider a romantic dinner at a sophisticated restaurant relaxing, everything about it had you on edge. It was too fancy for you to belong there, even in the elegant dress Nevada bought for you. The dress was too form-fitting, too low-cut. It made your cleavage look ample, and though you were getting accustomed to wearing such pieces in your new employment, your confidence in the feminine was still lacking.

You hunkered low in your seat, trying to be as small as possible so no one would look at you. Of course your nervous fidgeting only made them look more.

Not helping matters was your date, sitting across from you at the small, intimate dining table. Nevada Ramirez cocked his brow sarcastically as he made an inappropriately sexual comment about the aforementioned dress, and the aforementioned way your breasts looked in it.

“It’s almost distracting enough that you don’t notice the—” he gestured at your face with a mocking smirk, and laughed almost cruelly as he saw your eyes flash wide. 

Your jaw clenched and you thought of a million biting comebacks you could shoot at him, and briefly envisioned flipping over the table and decking him, but instead you shrunk further in your chair.

“Come on, guerrerita, don’t be like that,” he frowned. He seemed genuinely upset that you were shriveling instead of being riled into taking his bait.

Never in a million years would you have imagined yourself with an asshole like Nevada. Vulgar, loud, rough around the edges. A gang leader who earned the nickname of a ruthless dictator. But your life had been in a downward spiral, and Trujillo found you at the bottom of it. He recruited you into the crime family, and gave you a purpose when everything in your law-abiding life was falling apart.

It was a recent development that you’d admitted your feelings for each other, and until now your relationship (outside of work) had been limited to passionate, desperate, intense sex. Fucking Trujillo was like fucking the illegal fireworks he sold, but this was the first time you’d allowed yourself to be seen out in public with him—in decent company, anyway.

He’d insisted on taking you out to celebrate with something nice, just the two of you. None of his men lurking over your shoulders. Something he thought you’d want, even though all you wanted was to go back to the Heights and rip his clothing off. Now you were too pissed off and embarrassed to even want to fuck him.

You thought he might tone himself down for the upscale venue, but Vada had been his usual obnoxious self all night, and more genteel diners were glaring. Honestly, this was why you couldn’t stand him at first, even though he was incredibly handsome. But his boorish exterior belied a cunning, organized businessman who had all of Washington Heights under his thumb, who earned his community’s loyalty through fear, yes, but ultimately, by taking care of them. There was, underneath the showy performances of flippant laughter and casual brutality, a certain sensitivity you had grown keenly protective of. 

He saw the value in things others overlooked. He recognized all the anger and pain stamped inside you behind those mild suburban manners—things polite society considered flaws—and told you that you were exactly what he needed. That those things were an asset to him. That you were valuable. 

No one ever said that to you before. 

You weren’t in love with him. He would always be a ruthless criminal, and one day you’d want your normal life back. But you had grown… attached.

One of the glaring diners was eyeing Nevada with particular suspicion, not just briefly glancing up when he laughed too loud or made a rude remark to the waiter. He shot Vada a profoundly dirty look and held it long enough to raise your hackles. He sat at the bar about four table lengths away, had shoulder-length hair, a messy stubble beard, and a solid physical build. You would have mistaken him for a surfer except you were on the wrong coast, and your instincts told you he was dangerous. You quietly assessed the potential threat while maintaining your meek posture low in the chair. A cop? Or a rival gang leader? Unlikely to make a move inside the restaurant with so many witnesses. You’d watch the exits when it was time for the check.

The waiter brought the main course to the table, and blessedly, digging into a meal finally shut up Nevada’s feisty tongue. Instead of sleazy remarks, he made small-talk about how good everything tasted. Maybe it wasn’t just having his mouth stuffed that mellowed him. There was a softness in his eyes now—a look reserved for when you were alone together, when he knew something was bothering you. You guessed he finally caught on that you were not having a good time.

Nevada never took anything seriously, until suddenly he did. You’d seen him throw opponents off balance by dropping from sardonic laughter to spine-chilling hostility, and the effect was equally potent when he dropped into affection.

His foot bumped into your leg—those shiny black leather shoes that looked like someone cut off a tacky cowboy boot at the ankle—and slowly brushed against it under the table. It wasn’t an aggressively sexual maneuver, just an affectionate contact letting you know he was there. It worked. You lanced a slice of filet mignon on your fork, and felt your shoulders relax with his change in attitude. It was a simple gesture, but the warmth of his leg spread tingling waves through your skin, making your face flush. A private, intimate moment, like a sharing secret. That was the most thrilling part of the relationship, really—the secret that the fearsome Trujillo had a tender side. In a way, you were like two opposite halves that fit together perfectly.

Before long, you were comfortable enough to start gushing about the day’s victory you were there to celebrate, and the staring stranger had slipped entirely from your mind.

***

You excused yourself to use the bathroom, and as you washed your hands in the mirror, you got a good look your swollen black eye. You’d taken a glove to the face hard, but it opened your opponent’s guard and let you hit them back harder until they went down, and you walked away with prize money from the biggest tournament you’d ever won. Nevada was so turned on by your aggression, it took all his willpower not to barge into the locker room and fuck you right then and there. Instead, he treated you to dinner at a nice place like a gentleman, which was a very sweet, if misguided effort.

The bruise had spread and darkened in the hours since you received it, and your makeup no longer did anything to hide it. And there you were all innocent, in a cute little dress, slouching nervously across from a character from Breaking Bad. Oh fuck, no wonder everyone was giving him dirty looks.

An icy fist clenched around your heart as you remembered surfer-hair sitting at the bar, and you suddenly didn’t feel right about leaving Nevada unguarded. You shook the water off your hands and rushed back out into the dining area.

You were just being paranoid, of course. No one would start a fight in the middle of the restau—

Fuck.

Your table was empty. And so was that spot at the bar.

Worst-case scenarios ran through your head and your field of vision narrowed. A waiter hurried past with a tray of dirty dishes and you grabbed him by the arm hard enough for several plates to go flying as you whipped him around. “Did you see where the man at that table went?!” you demanded, pointing.

Indignant protests died half-formed on the surprised waiter’s lips and turned to terror at your intensity. “I-I think he went out to smoke! The side door!”

You dropped his arm without a thank you and marched with purpose to the door, which pushed open into a dim back alley.

“If you ever lay a hand on her again—” surfer-hair was snarling, pinning Nevada against the side of a metal dumpster, fist raised about to strike. 

Nevada’s lip was bleeding, but he wore a cocky grin, letting fly a string of filthy Spanish expletives. 

“You think it’s funny beating on a helpless girl? Let’s see how you like it.”

Nevada was scrappy, but not especially large. He’d gotten in a few hits, but was losing, badly. He was more the brains of his criminal operation, which was why he was always accompanied by protection. And now you were seeing red.

The man got off another punch to Nevada’s smirking face before you could reach them, the dull impact unlocking a boiling rage that rose in your blood and turned you into someone you wouldn’t recognize once the heat had passed. As he reared back for another, you used his momentum to keep him sailing backwards, off balance. 

“DON’T YOU”—you kicked him in the chest, staggering him back—“FUCKING TOUCH HIM!” you roared. 

Carrying forward on the momentum of the kick, you threw your entire body into punch after brutal punch, hissing and snarling like an animal, driving him back and down, your primal fury relishing the sensation of fists slamming into solid flesh and bone. You were going to break this fucker for daring to hurt Trujillo. “I will kill you! I will kill you!” you screamed, thrashing him in a relentless onslaught that never gave him an opening to regain his footing. The man might have given a better showing, but he was still recovering from the shock of being beaten senseless by a demon he had assumed was a fragile soul in need of rescuing.

You felt a hand grasp your shoulder and threw a vicious elbow, stopping yourself inches before seeing whose nose it was you were about to shatter. “Princesa, princesa—calmate. Tranquila, baby girl…” he cooed, pulling you off.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” you kept shrieking, legs and arms kicking out at the air, trying to continue raining blows down on your enemy as Nevada restrained you. You struggled against Nevada’s arms, your hammering pulse chanting murder in your ear, but never striking a blow against him. Even in a blind rage, your instincts recognized he was yours to protect.

In the way his long fingers gripped you, the rhythm of his breath in your ear, and how close he held his body firm against you, he was clearly turned on. 

He cackled at the would-be do-gooder. “You don’t wanna mess with an MMA champ’s boyfriend, comemierda. I don’t think she’s kidding! Better run while you can.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, guarding his face. “Who the hell are you people?”

Nevada’s smile could have split his face in two. “She’s my bodyguard.”

[secondhand-trash]

I’ve Got You Pegged

A/N: The start feels so comedic but it’s just me hiding the fact that I had no clue how pegging works smh much thanks to my girl ronda for her pfp because it inspired me like no other, the artist said don’t repost their work so I’m gonna respect that but it’s @scipiada on twitter, go check it out and you’re welcome huhuhuh

Pairing: Tamaki Keigo x f!reader

Description: It’s pegging, y’all. There's really nothing else I could say about it;)

Warning: nsfw below cut (it’s pure porn with no plot, don’t come for me)

Word count: 1977

Keigo was a wonderful boyfriend, all aspects considered. He was charming, funny, not to mention very easy on the eyes. Despite his constant teasing that you were only in it on his body, you could never quite deny that it was one of his many qualities that made you unable to stay away from him at first.

It was only a bonus that he was very down to experimenting with the more physical pleasures in a relationship. Whatever you dared to bring up, he was down to try it. It was not necessarily the sex itself, more so the fact that you felt so comfortable talking to him about everything and knew that whether he was personally into it or not, there would never be any shaming from him part.

When you even so brought up the concept of pegging, it seemed that he was as buying into the idea as much as you did. There was a lot of teasing from him as usual and you would honestly expect no less but from the way his eyes glimmered and his tone dropped, you knew that you had him hooked. 

See, wonderful. We love a man so secured about his own identity that he had no fear taking a dildo up his ass. Fragile masculinity, take fucking notes.

The only question and the biggest one at that was how because despite your usual love for Keigo’s wings that looked so majestic, those two flaps were not god in the bed room, at all. They were sensitive, which was fun most of the times but one wrong move on the wrong angle with a little bit too much pressure and you would end up having a yelping chicken at your hands. It prohibited all sorts of possibility of him lying on his back for more than 20 minutes, which really wasn’t that much so riding him was not an option, sadly for the both of you. Let’s not even mention that time he got so into it that he accidentally slapped you with his wings. Kinky, but like, ouch?

Keigo would love it if you get rougher with his wings not gonna lie, but those were his money making tools after all and you simply couldn’t risk getting him hurt because imagine all the headlines of how the no 2 hero of Japan injured his back. Not because he got into the wrong position while having sex, I sure hope.

Which was why as turned on as you were with your boyfriend laying naked on his stomach in front of you, you could not help but kill the mood a little with the countless worries swimming in your head.

“Is this comfortable for you?” You asked as you rubbed your hands along his neck down his spine, caressing those soft feathers as it went. You made sure to apply just the right amount of pressure at his shoulders and gently scraped down in between his wings, just the way he liked it. 

Letting out a content hum, his wings spread out further next to his body as he enjoyed the affection you were giving him. “Yeah. You could just get into it, you know? I won’t break.” His voice was muffled by the pillow he was facing down on but you could still hear the faint tease lacing his words. You knew that he had been through much worse and it would be more accurate to say that he was made of steel than the way you treated him like he could shatter under your hands if you were not careful, to which he always made fun of you for.  

But could you stop yourself from treating him like the mortal treasure he was? Probably not, really.

Even now as you had a harness on your waist and Keigo very much so laying there waiting for you to ram into him, some part of you still wanted to take it slow and ease him into it. He had such a long week, you thought to yourself as you pressed down on the knot at his back, kneading it a little and eliciting a delighted coo from your boyfriend. Your other hand went down to his wings and gently scratching at the feathers which stood up immediately at your action.

“You really weren’t kidding when you said this is for me, huh?” He chuckled, letting out a soft whine as your warm hand kneaded at a particularly sore spot at his shoulder. 

You leaned down, the cold plastic connecting to your harness pressing up his back as you did so when the hand that was previous at his wings travelled down to his ass. He shuddered when you dipped in between his cheeks and traced the puckered hole with a finger. “You’ve worked so hard recently, might as well treat you a little.”

The anticipation sent shivers down his spine as the warmth that was at his back suddenly faltered when you sat back, efficiently straddling his legs to get into a good position for what you were doing next. You started off with one lubed up finger, tentatively sliding into his hole. The reaction from him was instant as his hand immediately gripped onto the sheets at the new feeling of being stretched out. 

“Doing ok, birdie?” You asked when you got two knuckles deep, the other hand placed at the dent of his waist to keep his hips from bucking up. The feathers at his back was starting to ruffle, and you could only imagine how wild they would get once the real thing hits. 

Despite your hold on his back, he reflectively arched off the bed as you added another finger to fill up his tightness even more. As you slowly moved the fingers in and out of him, the previous friction that surrounded your fingers began to loosen up all while his moans and whines got louder. Stroking his hair, you leaned down and whispered in his ear. The lower you bent, the more obvious his heavy breaths were to you and you felt a rush of excitement down to your core at his vulnerable position. “Is this-”

“Yes! Yes I’m feeling fine, can you just get on with it?” He choked out in a soft cry. From your position, you could see how his eyes were pursing together and his brows knitted as he felt the prominent invasion of your hand. You smirked as he let out a breathy gasp when you removed your fingers.

“So whiny,” you teasingly said as you lined the tip of the dildo against his ass and got the reaction you wanted as he hissed,” so impatient.”

His wings reacted faster than its owner as the red feathers stood up immediately the moment you started sliding inside of him with a slow motion of your hips. Keigo’s knuckles turned white as he held onto the corner of the pillow case while adjusting to the initial discomfort only to feel an odd hollowness when you stayed still to let him get used to the girth and length of the dildo. Always a man of action, the first bucking of his hips that made it went further into him was the sign you needed to keep going. As you slowly started thrusting inside of him, tears started to form at the corner of his eyes. Overwhelmed by the foreign sensation of pain mixed with pleasure, the moans that he never bothered to hold back in the first place got even louder and resembled that of a mewl when the feeling of the plastic against his untouched walls clouded his mind.

“Fuck! Go faster, please...” 

You gladly obliged as you picked up the tempo of your movements. While you were penetrating him from behind, the sheets rubbing at his cock only added to the pleasure as he unintentionally humped against the bed with each thrust of your hips. The feeling of you hitting his prostate, the friction on his cock from the soft sheets, your hand at the side of his face as you leaned down to whisper that he was doing so good taking everything you gave him, it was all too much for him as the pleasure made his head hazy. 

“You look so good sprawled under me like this,” you said as you started to pant from your own wild movements and the effect this sight unfolding in front of your eyes had on you. “so good taking my strap.”

From where you were, you could see the constant struggle between his own restraint to stay put together and the physical reaction of his wings flapping from the pleasure. Each feather seemed to be shaking as the tips of those glorious wings twitched, lifting off the bed at some moments only to be slammed down once again under their owner’s last bit of will power.

It was rare that you get to see so much of him and caress him to your liking, normally it was you underneath him moaning and begging for release as his calloused hands teased each and every curve of your body until you were a stuttering mess. While he was crying out for more, your hands roamed across his muscular back and gave each tensed up section the loving it deserved. It was a crime on your part that you never gave him ass much attention. Cupping the tender flesh, you parted the cheeks before giving it a sudden slap, eliciting a loud groan from the man both from the ache and the way you could reached into even deeper parts of him if it was possible. 

The fluttering of his wings and the sinful sounds he was making had you dripping in your own arousal. Now you got why he was so into this, knowing that you were the reason why the other person was a drooling, moaning mess did give you a dose of power you never knew you needed.

“I’m gonna cum... I’m gonna cum!”

Keigo panted as he felt his fingers went numb from how he was clutching so desperately at whatever his hands could reach. The irregular bucks of his hips got weak as his release approached and with one final thrust from you that pushed him down to the mattress and gave him the friction he needed, the sticky white substances stained the fabric beneath him and the warmth spread all across his belly.

Still shaking from his high, he choked out a gasp as he felt the sudden emptiness from his backside when you removed the strap. Biting back a grin as you undid the buckles of your harness, you rolled onto your side next to him on the bed to catch the erotic sight of your boyfriend’s flushed face. The trails of tears on his face and drool at the corner of his lips were the evidence of what you just did to him and to say that it didn’t made your cunt twitch would be a lie.

“Had fun?” You chuckled as he pulled you closer with an extended arm and covered you with his wing. Hearing the soft hum of approval from him, you gently soothed out the tangled up hair at the side of his face when he buried it at the crook of your neck. 

“Sure.” he sounded tired and if it wasn’t for his hand that went down your back and the finger that was tracing against your sopping folds, you would have thought that this was it for your session of the day. Your breath hitched at the back of your throat when one of his lean fingers easily slid into your slit and the moment it arched, you could not help but moaned.

“But what kind of boyfriend would I be if I keep all the fun to myself?”

[stetervault]

Hello! Do you do rec lists? Would you be willing rec some Steter fics that aren't the most common/popular ones? If not, no worries!

Technically this isn’t a rec-finding blog lol but I do make rec lists sometimes if someone asks and I have the time and I feel like it. Here are some (I think?) less known Steter fics, oldies that people may have missed or forgotten (Idk how well I succeeded, I just picked a bunch that have significantly less reads/bookmarks than the really big fics):

Fear (Doesn't Mean I Can't Fight) by azerblazer

Peter is the damsel in distress, the Sheriff is the hostage, random unnamed hunters are the bad guys.

Stiles has a bat, a hoodie and a willingness to do anything to protect those he's loyal to.

Bring it on.

A Lean and Hungry Look by kototyph

The woods aren't the only place you find wolves.

You're Mine, Valentine by orphan_account

In which Peter decides to court Stiles, and does so by leaving him hearts.

Bloody ones.

Zodiac by Green

"You know, Taurus and Libra make a good match," Peter says with a sly smile.

Stiles looks away. "Yeah. I looked that up, too."

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

He Is A Villain By The Devil's Law by neglectedtuesday

Stiles’ lungs are burning, blood is pumping through his veins and he’s pretty sure that if he stops running then he’ll just keel over into the gutter. But God does he feel alive. The sirens are wailing, loud and clear. Just one more block. One more block. Stiles ducks down an alleyway, the bag full of bank notes swinging behind him. It hits his side with a dull thud. The alley smells like cat pee and yesterdays trash so Stiles breathes shallowly through his mouth. He continues walking down it until he reaches the end. It opens out onto the street. He stops just shy of the exit, waiting. He waits a bit more. Then he kicks a can lying idle on the ground. He whips out his burner phone, punching in a number.

“Where the fuck are you?” Stiles growls, “Where’s my goddamn getaway car?”

“Change of plans Stilinski, you’re gonna have to get away on your own. Also ditch the phone.”

Fascinated by lemonstiles, migratoryslashfan

Stiles pontificates over Peter's naked body.

Night-blooming Flowers by imriebelow

Peter always gets what he wants. Stiles learns to live with it.

None of These Things (Are Happening) by Horribibble

After years away, Stiles returns to Beacon Hills just in time to put Isaac's insides back where they belong.

It's cute how people think he's trustworthy.

-

Peter can smell the violence inside him, the urge to do something grand and possibly cataclysmic. It’s there—mixed with a balance and natural calm, but in the undercurrent, it’s there. He has seen things beyond the scope of Beacon Hills’ petty horror show. He has learned things.

The Terrible Things We Do (For Love) by rospeaks

Being a demon, he’s seen some of the pretty nasty things that humans are willing to do for love. Things that, were he still alive (and human), would make him hesitate to be in a relationship with anyone lest his partner start getting some funny ideas. That said—

"This seems a little desperate for a kid your age," he says to Stiles.

Spin, Sweet Clotho by ChuckleVoodoos

Oh, it’s a beautiful thing to watch, the way they dance around each other, spun in sugar and glittering glass. Like a fragile little fairytale, a tender rosebud just waiting to unfurl. It makes Peter sick.

Because love is a fairytale, and his dear darling nephew does not deserve a happy ending.

whisper by tricksterity

Stiles was tired.

He was done of people pushing him and his pack around. They’d already lost so much and he was damned if he’d let them lose anyone else, especially to this psychopath who had no reasons for what he did other than he liked it.

And that’s when the whispers in his mind grew louder.

Remember Darling, All the While by Sang_argente

It was fire, ice, electricity. It was the first kiss, the last kiss, and every kiss inbetween. It was lips parting, tongues sliding, hearts beating.

Impress Me by ToAStranger

Their new English teacher has gone missing.

Falling Upward by moonstalker24

There is nothing quite like flying. There is a calm and a peace found in the sky that cannot be found on earth. All the chaos of the world is below you and there is no sound save that which the propeller makes as the engine turns it. You are free and unfettered and the clouds are close enough to touch; all you need do is stretch out your hand to grasp them.

Stiles takes Peter flying after he gets out of Eichen House.

Sweeter Than Gingerbread by taylorpotato (Stetallison)

The saying goes that lovers who commit suicide together start their next life as twins. Perhaps that's why Stiles and Ally feel the way they do about each other.

The Shadow Effect by Mysenia

What was the fun in being a twin if you couldn't trick a person or two?

Deep under by Sashaya

There's a reason Stiles knows so much about drowning. He'd rather not remember why...

All the World's a Stage (but the light design is subpar) by BonesOfBirdWings

Peter Hale is a successful Off-Broadway actor, and Stiles is a stage lighter who literally falls into his life.

Peter smiled at him. "Thank you, Stiles. But should I take this to mean that you don't want a meatball sandwich from Banh Mi Saigon?"

Stiles' mouth dropped open. "You - I - Yes, I want! Oh my god, you do the best apologies! Can you piss me off more, please? I accept all future apologies enthusiastically!"

Peter chuckled. "I'm sure that won't be a problem, dear boy. I've been informed that I'm an asshole by a very reliable source."

Stiles beamed. "But you have good taste in food, so things balance out?" he ventured.

Peter threw back his head and laughed. Stiles' grin brightened in answer.

The D.C. Backroom Deal by septima_sum

Stiles is a regular prostitute with moderate life goals – until his current client makes him an offer he can’t refuse.

Strange Duet by BelleAmante, thiliart (thilia)

The past three years have been a series of shocking, or not so shocking, successes for 2018 Tony award winner and two time Grammy nominee, Stiles Stilinski. You don’t typically find classically trained opera singers singing alternative folk rock to crowds at Coachella. Nor do you find indie singer/songwriters winning best actor awards at the Tony’s for their Broadway debuts. Stilinski has made it his lifetime habit to defy and exceed all expectations.

-or-

A Steter fic loosely based on Phantom of the Opera

Hold Me Down by sneksonaplane

Waking up in Peter Hale’s bed was weird. Waking up in Peter Hale’s body was even weirder. Stiles had been disoriented and confused when he’d found himself in a plush, king sized bed in an unfamiliar bedroom instead of in his own room (and seriously, why did Peter even need a king sized bed? Why would anyone need a bed that big?) It had all come back to him when he’d glimpsed the body he was inhabiting, one that was shorter but more defined than his own, and older, and kind of hot.

OR

The one where Stiles and Peter swap bodies, Peter relives his adolescence, Stiles suffers, and then suffers a little less when he discovers Peter's fetlife profile where he's listed as a submissive seeking a daddy.

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night by Guede

This is a ghost story. It’s not straightforward.

Put My Faith in Something Unknown by Twisted_Mind

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, suspended between thought and action, unable to feel. At some point, he becomes aware that there’s a hand on his face. A warm palm cradles his jaw, and a thumb brushes across his cheekbone tenderly.

The Rest of Our Lives by mia6363

“I don’t know, as a kid I watched a lot of movies, you know? And at first I figured like… I’d be on some great adventure that would take me away from it all, you know? Like Indiana Jones comes around and is all, ‘Hey Stiles, buddy, come with me we’ve got to go save the world.’ Then… you and… everything happened… then I just… I figured I’d die before I was eighteen.”

Enemy Action by pprfaith

Once is chance, twice is coincidence and three times is far too many bodies on the ground.

Buy Me a New Pair by Julibean19

"I don't practice law much these days."

"And why is that?" Stiles asked, wondering why a handsome and presumably successful lawyer wouldn't want to continue working.

"I've been drawn away by more pleasurable pursuits," Peter said, lips quirked upward as he spoke.

Tale as Old as Time by wynnebat

The one in which Lydia's got better things to do than be Belle, Stiles is a much more likeable Gaston, and Peter is a beast but not quite beastly.

The clothes make the man by FeelingsDusk

The trick to sneaking into a building where you shouldn’t be is to make it seem to all eyes like you should. Stiles has been doing this since he was a little older than toddler and he wanted to get back his Batman action figure from the evidence room in his dad’s Police Station.

(Spolier alert: just like back then, Stiles gets caught.)

Smile Like You Mean It by NinaRooxx

After sulking about the changing weather over the autumn, Stiles notices that despite the weather getting colder, Peter’s wardrobe isn’t changing at all.

Swing by ShippersList

Stiles wants to fly.

Angels, Devils, and Peter by Triangulum

Everyone has an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. They give advice, help guide their human through life. They tempt, they listen, they offer help. Everyone has one of each. Everyone except for Stiles.

OR

Stiles and Peter are murder husbands.

love and madness by sinequanon

Peter and Stiles haven’t seen each other in months when the alphas ask them to meet up to look over an abandoned house. Now, they’re going to be seeing a lot of each other for quite a while to come.

Not This Again by RebaK1tten

There's a rumor that the last episode of the show will have Peter getting killed, again. Perhaps to give him a redemption arc or something.

A Light at the (Near) End of the World by ladyoneill

The world he grew up in has ended in a supernatural war that devastated the human population. A survivor, Stiles lives a solitary, quiet life in Wales until there's a knock on his door.

Through Space and Time by MaroonDragon

When Stiles pulls the body of Peter Hale into his ship, he doesn't expect him to be alive. He also doesn't realise he might have gotten more than he bargained for.

His Color by SushiOwl

“Darling, have you been carrying a throw-away comment I made in your mind for almost four months?”

Stiles’s face felt like it was one with fire now.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

Looking After You by Slayer_of_Destiny

Can Peter be a chance for Stiles, can Stiles be a second chance for Peter? When Peter offers Stiles a relationship will the younger man take the chance with the werewolf?

Maybe We Both Are by lavenderlotion

The first time Stiles lets his fingers brush against Peter he wasn’t expecting the response he got. They were sitting on Stiles bed researching something. Or, they were researching. Now they were just talking. They did that a lot these days, just talked. They also ate together a lot. Or got coffee.

these words bear my scars (paint your love on my skin) by WindyRein

One day butterflies and childish codes change to I'm sorry you're meant for a murderer and he won't realize for years how much that changed his life.

Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay

Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.

He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.

The Lady of Lightning by kiranightshade

"Those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside"

Can You Use Lube For That? by AlreadyBoss

“You think your what is haunted now?” Surely he'd misheard. There was no way-

“My vibrator,” Stiles answered with alarming sincerity.

Well. He hadn't misheard after all.

Pianist Envy by Bunnywest

Stiles is the piano player.Peter can think of other things he'd like to see those hands do.Shame the guy's straight.

Everything You Deserve by Areiton

You think about it. More than you should, you think about it. About what would have happened, if you had bitten Stiles instead of Scott.

Home by Ragga

Don't be like him, they would say, and then add, or else you get burned.

Unable to bear the whispers any longer, This One left. He forsook those who forsook him, left him bear his scars alone, the scars he bore for his herd. It was better to be alone, stay off the currents, than swim with those most undeserving of his loyalty. So mote it be.

That is, until he met That One.

Lord Peter by Therapeutic_Steter

Peter rung out the rag before gently placing it on his mother’s head, reaching over to feel his father’s equally flushed features.

“Such a good boy,” his mother said, patting his arm with what little strength she had remaining. His father smiled softly at him even as his fell unconscious. Peter pushed back the lump in his throat, smiling shakily for his mother before venturing out into the living space.

knit me together by nezstorm

Peter asks Stiles to stay the night after a really awful day.

Warriors by CinnamonLily

Peter is ten years old when humans discover Azure, a planet not unlike Earth. From there on, he wants to learn everything about their new neighbors and the planet itself. It takes him over twenty years to get to Azure, but when he does, it's so worth it. His anthropologist heart is happy, and a new acquaintance in the form of an Azurian called Stiles might just make the rest of him happy, too.

[lullabiesandgoodbyes]

Tagging @madsdefencesquad, and thank you so much for the opportunity to rant about my girls, since this fandom pays little to no attention to them and that’s not right! *-*

So, Kate and Madison, where do I start?

I don’t know, maybe with the fact that they started at such a rough place. Kate wasn’t exactly impressed by Madison when they first met, and I’m sure that’s how we’re supposed to feel about her too ( “why is this skinny girl complaining about her weight amidst all of those obese people? surely she’s only there to make herself feel better...” ). We’re probably even meant to stand by her side when she snaps:

« Oh, for God's sake! Madison, you weigh 105 pounds! If you feel like a fat girl when you look in the mirror, why don't you step a damn scale? And when the scale reads "One, zero, five," you know that you're not fat. »

And this is only the second episode.

The thing I’ve come to wonder the most about that whole year they shared through the support group, though: Madison doesn’t seem to hate Kate back. In fact, the first time she eventually opens her mouth, here’s what caught my attention:

«  Why do you hate me? »

It was something I didn’t notice on my first watch, since back then I too was highly suspicious of Madison, but she sounds frustrated when Kate stands up against her again; so frustrated, she actually follows her to the parking lot to confront her about her behavior, despite not being the confrontational type. And when Kate reafirms her core problem with Madison ( «Because you're annoying and you shouldn't be here» ), how does she backfire?

« Well, I think you're annoying. The way that you and your fiancé come here every week and smile and giggle at each other when some of us don't have anyone to do that with. »

Now that we know more about her, I think it’s plausible that Madison, a lonely girl with low self-esteem who joined a support group for body issues and got shunned because of her body, kind of envied Kate, who had no trouble fitting in because she was fat, spoke her mind without worrying about hurt feelings and even found love right under everyone’s noses. She could go to those meetings and talk about how miserable she felt, but I can imagine Madison thinking to herself that Kate was everything she wanted to be.

Well, we all know how that scene ended, right? They tap cars, Kate gets scared and eventually tells her she’s pregnant. I’ve always loved how a single word - together with Kate’s vulnerability - managed to dissipate all the anger and frustration that Madison was displaying just a few seconds before. And now that we know she had been told to be infertile? She could have hated her for it ( honestly, how many times have we seen it happening on screen between female characters? ), but instead chose to be happy for her.

And it’s the loss of said pregnancy that makes Madison approach her again. Notice her facial expressions as Kate opens up during the meeting. She tells them « You know, after the miscarriage, I just needed some comfort, you know? So I found that in Taco Bell. » and you can see she just gets it - Madison would later admit « I was really upset when I got home. So I ate. So much. » The truth is, at the end of the day, they’re not that different from each other: they get hurt or overwhelmed by life, they overeat, they feel terrible about it. Maybe she’s also feeling alone, as if no one understands her, maybe not even her fiancé, who used to be one of them and now is not - but Madison does and I think that made the difference.

I’ve always found it so endearing that she went to Kate after the meeting to invite her to shop for the wedding dress. <3 Not just because she was honestly trying to make her feel better ( «Let me help you clear this hurdle.» ) but mostly because there’s a chance she used her own experiences and ( we assume ) connections to make sure Kate would feel better: from assuring she wouldn’t have to try the dresses, that she was free to leave as soon as she felt uncomfortable, to book the appointment so they’d be alone and away from unpleasant looks, she knew how to make it a nice experience. And she did it because, following my previous interpretations, the girl who was getting all the things she wanted for herself had just lost her baby and was now on the verge of also losing one of the most exciting moments from her journey to the altar, and she couldn’t let it happen. <333

So, while they’re out having fun, we end up finding out not only what’s wrong with Madison but also that she’s currently relapsing. She did her best for Kate while at her worst ( is it possible that taking care of others is Madison’s way to care for herself...? ), and Kate notices it. Not happy about it, she actually has the guts to confront her. I don’t think Madison is angry at her for that, but I definitely believe she’s angry at herself for slipping and allowing her to see just how low she has reached. That’s probably why she calls later, after she faints - Kate ain’t easy and not yet a friend, but now she knows what’s going on with her. More than that, she sounded worried during the confrontation, almost as if she cared and was ready to rethink her opinion on her ( «When you talk in group, it's not about anything... real. Or, at least that's what I thought.» ). And it turns out to be the best decision: Kate ends up taking care of her and even starts opening up about her own experiences with weight and voices whispering crazy things inside your head. She even finishes with a very tender « So... I don't think you're insane », which seems like something Madison craved to listen for a long time. And that was the beautiful beginning of a beautiful friendship. *-*

I’m going a bit over the board now, but one of the things I think Madison does with their friendship is to live through Kate: she organizes her bachelorette party, throws a helping hand at her wedding, offers her support when Kate reveals she’ll probably never have kids and stays by her side all through her pregnancy and Jack’s first challenging year. It’s a shame we never got to see those moments ( fingers crossed for an episode featuring Madison’s backstory, I’d love to know more about her participation in Kate’s life ), and I’m especially fond of the reminiscence of them shopping for the baby:

« We were out after group a few months ago and we passed this baby store. She didn't want to go in. And I was like, "Kate, you need to show the universe you believe this is going to happen." So she got this Ruth Bader Ginsburg doll to give him as soon as he was born. Because she wanted him to be immediately surrounded by strong female influences. »

Found it very adorable that Kate, whose life has mostly been shaped by the men in her life ( her father, her brothers, her husband ), is finally recognizing the impact that strong women can have too. Maybe this wasn’t the interpretation the writers were aiming at, but I absolutely loved that her first thought was to have her son surrounded by tough ladies, so they can teach him to be strong like her mother, her best friend and even her sister-in-law at some point have taught her.

Reciprocally, I believe this friendship taught a lot to Madison too. She’s clearly more mature by the time she opens up to Kate regarding her own views on relationships and what she wants from them ( «What you and Toby have, what I dream of finding, is that intimacy. It's letting people see the worst part of you without being scared.» ), and yes, I think a lot of that stemmed from her interactions with Kate and the entire Pearson clan. She’s estranged from her family, so maybe it’s not far-fetched to assume she needed to feel part of one to understand their dynamics and, who knows, maybe gain the courage to finally start one of her own...? 

I guess that’s part of the reason why the whole showdown at the waiting room when Jack was born hurt so much. Notice how the scene went:

« KEVIN: I'm sorry, what exactly are you doing here?

MADISON: Oh, I, um... No, it's, uh, it's weird that I'm here. This is a... family thing. »

And later, after she tries to justify her actions to Miguel:

«  MADISON: But I should go. Kevin's right, I... it's weird that I'm here. I'm not family. »

I know you can say that Kevin made his feelings very obvious in that first scene, but he never said she wasn’t family, she did. Like, Madison has created strong ties to the Pearsons and feels like one of them but, deep inside, where her self-esteem and sense of belonging are still fragile, she knows she’s not. She’s still not sure she’s entitled to be there and Kevin, very unpleasantly, makes it very clear to her - you don’t belong here. But right when she’s about to leave, Madison’s loyal heart speaks louder, forcing her to stay despite her contraditory feelings, at least until Miguel helps her to find a way to do something for Kate and the baby.

By the way, I know I’m diverging from the main topic of this ask, but I love, love, LOVE how Miguel is the one supporting her on this episode. He wants to be supportive of Rebecca and his stepsons, but she’s basically away from there and both Randall and Kevin are refraining from him; then comes Madison, as lost and worried as he is, and she actually allows him to comfort her. 

Also love how, by the end of it, they both get the same recognition:

« Thank you for putting up with us. »

I don’t know, man, I just can’t think it’s a coincidence...

-

So, you probably didn’t expect an essay on the matter and I’m sorry for it, sometimes I get too excited. ^-^’ I’m also not sure I made much sense through it, second languages can be too much sometimes. But this is where I’m standing so far, and I’m very glad for the opportunity to organize my thoughts about them. I’m now eager to see what S5 will bring us, with Madison becoming an official Pearson member - whether she’s Kevin’s wife or not, she’s the mother of his children and we’ll always have that - and how this will affect her relationship with Kate.

Oh, and let’s never forget my favorite quote related to these two:

« Is it that CrossFit bitch? I'll kill her. Is it Toby? I'll kill him. You just say the word, I will “Kill Bill” all of them and help you raise that child myself. »

I love my girls. <3

[pocket-clown]

Arthur learning that his S/O is pregnant may include;

// original request: Hi, I have a request. Can you do "Arthur learn that you are pregnant" (excuse me if this is NSFW idk) I like your blog by the way ;)

Not NSFW at all, thank you for the request anon!! I know jack about pregnancy so I had to Google things like symptoms and whatnot so I apologize for any inaccuracies :-))

Obvious content warning for pregnancy, symptoms of pregnancy, minor angst.

His face is unreadable, the second he hears the news. 

You’d spent the last month and a half or so battling an array of symptoms; at first, it was nothing more than noticing that your period never came when it was supposed to - something you initially shrugged off because hey, it wasn’t always regular. 

But then you started feeling tired. Not just sleepy, but as if you were perpetually fatigued, regardless of how much sleep you got. Even if you spent the day lounging around the apartment and resting in bed, it was like it took every ounce of energy and drive that you had to get yourself going at times, and you felt that you could’ve slept for hours, had it not been for the responsibilities and obligations that an adult life came with. 

It was then, about four weeks after your missed period that you woke up sometime around 1:20 in the morning with some of the worst nausea that you had ever experienced, just barely making it to the restroom in time. Arthur had been by your side the entire time, and he practically pleaded for you to go to the doctor - it was flu season, after all - but in the back of your mind, something was nagging at you, telling you that something more was going on.

So the next day, on your commute home from work you made a stop at Helm’s Pharmacy. Arthur had a prescription that was ready to be picked up and you figured that it would save him some time for you to just get it yourself, but you also grabbed a few of the best pregnancy tests that your small amount of cash could afford, praying that the pharmacist wouldn’t mention it the next time you came in with Arthur.

Once you had actually tested yourself, the double bars on each of the four tests confirming your suspicions, you felt your heart stop. 

How was Arthur going to react? You two certainly had talked about having children before, and he was receptive to the idea - he even seemed excited about it - but those late night conversations and discussions were always in the future tense, when the two of you were better off financially, and maybe even out of Gotham. 

The fact that you weren't sure how Arthur would react coupled with knowing that you two may not even be able to support a child at the time kept you from telling him for about a week, and once you finally broke the news to him you didn’t even bother trying to beat around the bush. 

“Arthur, I’m pregnant.” You’d said out of the blue while the two of you were cuddled up on the couch during one of Murray’s commercial breaks. His hand, which had been combing through your hair as you rested your head on his shoulder, stopped, and you could feel his breath hitch. When you’d looked up at him, you saw that his dark brows were furrowed ever so slightly, and it seemed like he was almost confused about what you had just said - or like he didn’t understand.

“Are… really?” He asked after a moment, his voice not above a soft whisper. It took him a second, but after a moment he was able to pry his eyes away from the television to turn and look you in your own; searching for anything to indicate if you were just joking around, or if you were actually serious.

“Remember how I started feeling really sick a bit ago? I took a few tests a few days ago, and... they were all positive.” You said, moving your hand to sweep away the tuft of hair that had fallen across his forehead. 

Arthur’s lack of response was nothing short of concerning to you, and for a moment you thought that he was upset, or even angry, with you. His green eyes were flitting all over the room, seemingly unable to focus on anything as his mind tried to fully process what you had just told him.

Unbeknownst to you, though, Arthur wasn’t mad - he wasn’t even upset. What he was, though, was frightened; though yes, the thought of having a child with you filled his heart with the kind of warm love he never in his life thought he’d get to experience, it was also one of the most freighted, daunting ones to ever cross his mind. He often wondered if he’d even make a remotely good father - something you’d always assure him that he would - but he still had his doubts; with all of his struggles - his condition, his mental illnesses, and his own lack of a father figure, to name a few - the last thing Arthur wanted was to end up a poor excuse for a father. His mind was running a million miles a second, and if it wasn’t for the soft touch of your hand brushing against his cheek, he would’ve sat in the same spot for the rest of the night as his mind forced him to go over every single worst case scenario it could possibly come up with.

“Arthur? Are you okay? I’m sorry if I upset you, I meant to tell you sooner but -”

“Upset? Sweetheart, why would I be upset with you about this…?” He asked, and you hadn’t any idea that he had been trembling until his hands came to your face, cupping your cheeks so he could pull you close enough so he could rest his forehead against your own. “Are you sure it’s me you want to have a baby with…?”

You knew that his question was rhetorical; it wasn’t uncommon for Arthur to agonize over his anxieties and fears regarding the relationship, questioning if you really were 100% completely and utterly sure that you wanted to be with him, of all people. He’d worry that he was completely imagining you and your voice and your touch, or that he’d somehow tricked you into being with him, even - but each and every anxiety was hushed with kisses from you. Though you knew that you couldn’t do or say anything to completely rid Arthur of said anxieties and worries, so ingrained within him were they, you did everything you could to be there for him whenever they came to surface and needed dealing with.

“Yes! And I mean it, Arthur - I want this - and I want it with you.” You said, and he hummed in response, his forehead still against yours as his thumbs stroked the backs of your hands as he held them in his own

“I’ll work harder - For us.” He spoke after a minute of silence, and his arms came to wrap around you, pulling you tightly against him. 

It’s then, with you in his arms, that the reality of the situation really hits Arthur and he can’t stop himself from tearing up. He was scared, and so were you; you’d both have to work extra hours (you, for as long as you could, until you were too far along), neither of you have ever had children before, and the weight of knowing that you’d soon be supporting one, as well eventually need a larger residence, the costs, the fact that you’d have another life in your hands - it was all so, so much to deal with that neither of you could stop yourselves from shedding tears. 

But you were together, and the two of you had made it through a lot together, already.

This sweet, attentive man always makes sure you’re as comfortable as possible. 

If you thought that his fretting about you in the past was over the top, get ready because now he rarely ever leaves your side. 

As the months go by and your tummy gets bigger, Arthur loves to rest his hands against it, his fingers sliding underneath the hem of your shirt so he can feel your skin. If you’re subtle about it, late at night during those nights you can’t sleep, sometimes you can catch him talking ever so gently and so sweetly to you and your unborn child, unaware that you’re awake. He goes on about how much he loves you, how you love him, how he loves the baby, how you love the baby, how soon you’ll be a family. He talks about everything he’s going to do with the two of you, what he wants to do, his hopes, his fears - all of it. Whether the soft, shaky tone of his voice is from his tender, sleep deprived state or if he’s quietly crying from the sheer, overwhelming amount of love, fear, excitement, and utter disbelief he feels you don’t know, but what you do know is that his words are genuine.

He goes with you to every single doctor’s appointment that you have; every single check up, every single exam, everything. Even if you’re not far along enough that it’s tough to get around, he still insists that you sit and rest so he can take care of chores around the apartment. He tries his hardest to improve his cooking skills, preferring that you eat as best as you can so that you’re as healthy as possible - he doesn’t want you falling ill. He keeps his smoking away from you, as well; he’ll literally leave the apartment, regardless of what time of day it is, to smoke outside so you aren’t exposed to it. He doesn’t want to put you or the baby at any sort of risk. 

You two will have to console each other very frequently. Arthur, at times, has trouble fully coming to terms with what’s going on; never in his life did he ever expect he’d have a child with someone (nor did he think he’d even have a successful relationship), and the weight of the situation tends to wear down on his already fragile mental state at times. Lots of reassurance that everything will be okay, that he is capable of being a good father, that you’ll be by his side, that there are resources that can help the two of you if you need it, and so on, will be needed. 

Regardless of whether it’s hormones, your own fears and anxieties, tears of excitement, whatever it is, he’s by your side whenever you need him to be. You’re in tears because your craving for that very specific type of donut from a market that’s halfway across Gotham is so strong? He’s putting on his shoes, fully prepared to go out and get it for you, despite it being 11 at night and pouring rain. You’re scared because you’re wondering how capable of a mother you’ll be, and if the child will even love you? Your face is cupped in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears as he tells you that he knows you; he sees how strong and how loving you are in your day to day life, and there’s not a single doubt in his mind regarding how wonderfully you’ll do as a mother. 

There’s absolutely no denying that it’s a tough time for the two of you, but the two of you make it work. 

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taglist;

@tahliamalfoydepp​ @tsukiakarinobara​ @smol-nari​ (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[ajokeformur-ray]

If you, it’s you... // Arthur x Flavia // personalised!

Summary: You’re falling apart at the seams and Arthur’s trying to stitch you back together, he is. But his seams are unravelling too and it’s all either of you can do to keep the other one from falling apart. As the sky falls and you crumble, so too does Arthur. But you will follow each other into the dark and make your way back into the light together.

A/N: A personalised gift for @jokerownsmysoul​. I mentioned doing you a piece a while ago as a thank you for being here for you and for comforting me and for being your wonderful self, and I finally thought of an idea worthy of you and the love you both share! So here, my love. To make it more you I stalked your blog for personal posts and they were the inspiration behind this piece, as well as some of how I’m feeling, too. 💜 I hope that you like this and please don’t be shy to say otherwise; I’m happy to write you something else!💙 Arthur and I both love you and we’re so, so proud of you!

Word count: 1, 904.

Arthur had seen that look on your face many a time but never, in all the time that you had been together, had he ever been able to get used to it. Oh, how he hated to see you suffer. It was a look which he saw every time he dared to look in the mirror. Oh, but he hated the things he saw. He was too old for you, too poor for you, too ugly for you, and you deserved someone who was kinder, stronger, more present within his life. You deserved so much better than anything Arthur felt that he could give you. These insecurities plagued him so ferociously that every day did he fear that today was the day his insecurities became truth, as if the intensity of his thoughts had so manifested into reality. But he was strong and he fought against himself every single day... just as you did.

You were strong, almost impossibly so, and you were always so brave. You got up every single day even with how you felt and you tried to get through the day, even with the thoughts which plagued your mind and threatened to turn you even against yourself, so incessant and so relentless were your thoughts. You were so full of love and so full of the will to do and to be better and your soul just radiated love and light and warmth and Arthur had only ever gravitated towards you, hoping even in part that by hanging around you would he be able to absorb even some of your natural energy, so in love with you was he that he wanted a piece of you with him always.

Arthur cooed softly as he padded across the room to get to where you were sat on the worn sofa. His footsteps were muted by his white socks, which pooled at his cute little ankles, and dark curls bounced atop the sharp angles of his shoulders as he bent in front of you. His weight was rocked back onto the heels of his feet and two weathered, slightly bruised hands came up to hold yours. Nimble fingers slid into the spaces between your own and Arthur squeezed to get your attention. Your eyes met his green oceans and Arthur smiled both in pain and in understanding. “Hey,” His soft rasp made you smile, you smiled and Arthur positively beamed at you, his adorable crooked tooth glinting in the natural light of the room. “What is it, Flavia? Talk to me, angel.”

With your tight grip continued, you pulled Arthur’s hands so far across your lap that the tips of his fingers brushed against the shirt which you wore, and Arthur smiled, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers deftly slipped beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingers stroked soothing, firm circles at the point where your jeans met your flesh and you shivered, a warm tingle spreading easily from the base of your spine to the very nape of your neck. You felt yourself relaxing and you ducked down so that you could, with a slow and careful twist of your joined hands to prevent Arthur from jumping away from you, still so shy and unsure was he even after all this time together with you, press a tender and lingering kiss to the soft, delicate skin of his inner wrist. There was a small cut there from the too tight bite of the handcuffs left over from his last stint in Arkham, which hadn’t fully healed yet, and it was here that you focused your loving attention. Arthur cooed softly and leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips brushing against your hairline, so far up was he, as you kissed his inner wrist and in this moment were minds, hearts and souls aligned. Oh, how you loved each other, so reverently and so completely.

It was the first and last time that the two of you would ever love like this and neither of you would ever have it any other way. 

There was no way for you without Arthur, not now that you knew what life with him was like, what it meant for you, and it was the same for Arthur when it came to you. He had waited a month shy of thirty six years for you, for he had had to learn to be patient, and he had been paid off extremely well, for you were everything he had ever wanted in his one and only person who understood him, to be with him in his space but not all alone. For how could he be all alone with the person who held his heart in their hands? Yes, while it was true that he sometimes felt alone with his thoughts, just as you did with your own, he never felt lonely, and he hadn’t ever since the day that he had met you. Indeed was it much the same for you, so equal were the two of you in your relationship and the love which you shared.

“I just feel like jelly.” Your hair fell over your face and Arthur rocked forward onto the balls of his feet, effortlessly shifting his weight and his centre of gravity so that he could slide his hands out of your reassuring grasp to tuck the strands which hid your face from him like dark curtains behind your ears. His hands fell back upon yours and the ghostly feeling which had made your palms feel cold and empty disappeared as quickly as it came. “All shaky and not... not right.”

Arthur hummed thoughtfully. “I know what that’s like,” His soft rasp caressed your inner ears and you closed your eyes at the sound of his voice as your soul came home for the first time that day. “When you don’t even know whether there’s a tomorrow and you can only feel from one day to... another.” The last word was released along with a sigh weighted in unexpressed emotions and a soul deep weariness and sadness. You tightened your grip on Arthur’s hands and tugged upwards. Arthur giggled softly in understanding and he almost jumped up in his desperate need to be beside you, where he belonged.

The misplaced springs in the worn sofa clicked and cracked back into place and you felt one digging into your coccyx. The sofa was way past needing to be replaced but neither of you could afford to put a deposit down for another sofa this month and next month wasn’t looking so good either. But that didn’t matter to you; economically poor you were but rich were you for the deep and intense love which the two of you had and shared with each other. You had built the foundations of your love from a chance meeting in the street from which the birth of serendipity had occurred. Like a magnet was between your bodies did you lean automatically towards Arthur, unable to resist him were you, and Arthur’s arm lifted away from his side so that you could fit oh so naturally into the crook there. Arthur tucked you into his side and rained kisses down atop your head. His kisses were soft and reverent yet the pressure he applied to each one was such that you could feel him there. There was no denying this moment; not even your darkest thoughts could tell you that this wasn’t happening, that Arthur wasn’t kissing the top of your head like his life depended on it. He was making little mwah noises and the smile which came to your face was a direct contrast to the tears which began to run down your cheeks and drip off your nose.

You sniffled and swiped a hand over your face and Arthur cooed softly. A finger underneath your chin tilted your head up and Arthur shifted on the sofa so that he could wipe your tears away with the calloused pads of his thumbs. Those tears which his thumbs couldn’t reach were dashed away with his lips. Arthur didn’t shush you. He didn’t whisper sweet nothings. He didn’t tell you that it was going to be okay. Arthur only kissed and wiped your tears away with his lips and his hands, the tools he used to express the ache in his soul, so deeply and so ardently did he love you. He only stayed with you as you cried and as you found freedom in crying yourself out as your mind broke the spirit of your soul, Arthur allowed small giggles to escape his thin lips; they were unhappy noises soaked in pain, like a sponge was Arthur’s fragile soul for the filth and grime which the city threw upon him. 

Now was it your turn to coo. Positions and roles were reversed and soon Arthur was the one cradled in your arms as you rained down kisses all over the top of his head. Your nose nuzzled into the crown of his head and your eyes slid closed as you took a moment to just... breathe him in. He smelled of stale cigarettes, vanilla, of fresh laundry, and you burrowed into Arthur, who sunk down so that he could tuck his head underneath your chin, his legs drawn up underneath him and his toes flexing into the worn sofa cushion.

“Is it just me... or is it getting harder to get through the day?” Arthur’s voice was thick with tears his body wouldn’t allow him to shed and you tightened your arms around him in response. You were both exhausted in and of yourselves and it was all either of you could do to just... stay here within the moment, to stay alive.

You couldn’t say anything, for there had been a similar question in your mind for as long as you could remember. Instead, you squeezed Arthur into you, holding him as tightly against you as you could, and you pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Arthur. I want to climb inside you so that we never have to be separated.”

Arthur giggled again, the noise this time disbelieving but relieved, for indeed did he feel the same me. “Me too,” Arthur lifted his head and pressed an almost bruising kiss to your lips. You sunk into his touch and his body, tightly pressed against yours, and allowed Arthur to kiss you as he wanted to; which was to say, with his entire self. Arthur was a being made to love and he had been denied both the receiving and the giving roles of such an expression and with you did he now make up for that lack in abundance. You received all of Arthur’s love and it so often left you overwhelmed and breathless in the best of ways, and you gave him everything that you had, too, for you were also such a warm and radiant soul whom was made both to love and to receive love, most especially from yourself. “I love you so much, Flavia.” 

Arthur kissed you once, twice, thrice to seal his vow, and as you both settled into a loving, healing cuddle on the sofa, did you each feel your tried and tired souls reach some level of peace. It was the very least you both deserved, in the arms were you both of an angel.

AF/J @impulsiveclown @astheworlddturns @fluffedstar @jokersqueenofchaos @germansarechill @tsukiakarinobara  @lynnesm @sagyunaro  @docsportello  @flowerglitterwoman @ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokers-doll @jokershyena @arthurjokersgirl @antonija89 @lilliryth @hotpacino @obsessedandthirsty  @call-me-harley-quinn

[padfootagain]

Dreams Come True

Here we go with my second fic for my 3600 followers !!!! This one is for Chris Evans. It's still super cute, like crazy fluffy, you have been warned!!

I hope you all like it :)

Gif not mine

Word Count : 3053

There is a particular hue that is quite indescribable, when the light of the sun crosses the leaves of a tree. It gives the tree different shades of green, lighter as the sunbeams kiss the leaves, and darker for the ones embracing the shade of those above them. It is similar to the work of a painter who's brush lost pigments on the way. It gives them the strange appearance of transparency that one matches only through watercolour, and it seems that one could even see the sky between the veins of the green leaves. And it is an ever-changing colour, that is set by both the tree one is examining and the season. It even depends on the time of day, actually, as the sun is different in the morning and in the afternoon.

To reach this particular colour you are witnessing now, one needs to lie down in the grass in Boston's Common Park on a Friday afternoon, at exactly 3 pm in June, under one of the oak trees. There's a cherry tree nearby in full bloom, that abandons its pink petals to the wind that carries them to you. A few petals pass above you now and then, bringing more colours to the green of the leaves and blue of the sky.

Dodger moves his head on your arm, but doesn't move more than that, still lying on the grass by your side. A dragonfly passes before your eyes, circling a couple of times above you, the light caught in its shining wings, before zooming away, a blue line flying through the park.

You hear Chris's loud laugh coming from your left and turn your attention to the source of the happy noise. He's running after the baseball ball, picking it up with his gloved hand, before turning back towards the child who's laughing too.

The tenderest smile forms on your features at the sight of Chris laughing with your daughter as he picks her up.

Seven years… how time flies… You can see her again as a new-born, tiny and fragile and so light in your arms, wrapped in a pink blanket. Her first steps and her first smile, and her first day at school, and her first time watching baseball…

She adores the sport now, and wants to become a player. You're not one to discuss her dreams, and neither is Chris. On the contrary, he's happy to train her as much as she wants… which means training her a lot. And so are you.

You think about that day almost eight years ago when you announced him the wonderful news. The evening had changed your life forever, and for the better too. You laugh at yourself when you think about how nervous you were to tell him then. How silly of you.

You remember, it was on a Tuesday, it was in September, and it was raining outside. You had run three tests a week before, but couldn't bring yourself to tell Chris.

You knew he had always wanted to have children, several, actually. He grew up in a large household and has a sharp sense of family. He's always wanted several children, a warm home to share with his family and large Thanksgiving meals oozing with love. So it wasn't the eventuality that he didn't want to have children that made you so nervous back then, it was the fear that he might not want to have children with you.

In your two-years long relationship, not once had you and Chris talked about children, or marriage, or any engagement involving more than a shared rent. You had been living together for a year, but that was all. You loved him more than anything, and you believed him when he told you he loved you, but none of you in a year had spoken about taking another step further. And you hadn't minded at all, to be fairly honest. You were happy with him, and that was all that mattered. Buyt then you were pregnant, and your little world was shaken from bottom to top.

Dodger moved on the sofa next to you, and you absent-mindedly stroke his ears, the feeling of the soft fur under your fingers bringing a little bit of comfort to your heart.

But you had to tell him, no matter how scared you were. He wouldn't abandon you, of that you were certain, but you didn't want him to feel like he had to stay with you. You didn't want to force it upon him.

You rested your hand on your stomach. Despite your fear, you were in pure joy, there was no question about keeping the baby or not. You merely had to gather your courage and tell Chris that despite the fact that it wasn't planned, you were pregnant.

You heard his keys turning in the keyhole, and you sat a little straighter on the sofa while Dodger was barking a couple of times and running to the door to welcome Chris. You had prepared dinner already, the table was set and all was ready. Chris was whistling as he walked inside your shared home, Dodger following him to steal as many strokes as he could, and he gave you a tender smile as he spotted you on the couch, the TV on although you had been paying no attention to the news.

"Hey, babe! Did you have a nice day?" he asked, throwing his leather jacket on the armchair and leaning to give you a quick kiss.

"Yeah. Normal, nothing interesting. What about you?"

"Great, actually. It's all good. New script has arrived, I'll get it tomorrow."

"That's great."

"Are you sure you're alright? You look tired, love," he insisted, a little frown darkening his features.

"I'm tired. I didn't sleep so well, and work was a mouthful. But I'm okay," you lied.

He nodded, apparently satisfied with your answer, before he would take a deep breath and frown again, before grinning.

"Did you cook?"

"I did. Yes, it's ready."

"Oh, I love you."

"I love you too."

You would have usually answered with a sassy remark, but you couldn't then. You were too nervous for that. Your throat was tightening a little more at each second that passed and you couldn’t imagine how you could tell him…

But you had to. You needed to.

It was late already, and you moved to the table to eat together, turning the TV off.

Chris was serving the meal you had prepared, and complementing how good it smelled and looked. You weren't listening to him. You had planned on waiting till the end of the meal to tell him, but you reckoned then, right before the precipice wide open at your feet, that you would never muster the strength and courage to tell him if you waited. It was now or never.

"Chris? Can I ask you something?"

He nodded as he sat opposite you, picking up his fork.

"Have you… Do you want to have children?"

You reckoned it was a little blunt, but couldn’t come up with anything smoother. He froze, his fork halfway up to his mouth, sauce dripping back into his plate.

"Well, yes. You know that. I'd like to have kids, one day."

One day.

You took a deep breath, your voice shaking when you spoke again.

"Do you think that… could you imagine having some with me?"

He put down his fork altogether.

"Could you? Imagine having kids with me?" he asked back.

"I asked first," you replied with a nervous smile.

He took a second to gather his thoughts, and find the right words to be spoken.

"Actually, the more I think about it, the more I think that… why not?"

"Why not?"

You were hoping for a little more than a why not?, but at least it wasn't a no.

"I mean… not now," he hurried to add, as if he longed to reassure you, but he was making you panic more and more instead. "But in a few years, maybe. I mean… I'm happy with you. I love you. And I think I can make you happy too. When I picture myself in five years, you're still by my side. And why not with a kid then, if we're still together and everything is alright, you know? Not such a bad prospect to look forward to, is it?"

He was almost falling into babbling and instead chose to fall silent.

You wished you could have a drink at that moment, but you obviously couldn't. Instead, you had to gather the nerves to tell him without the strength of alcohol. Being pregnant truly has its disadvantages.

"What if… What if I wanted that… sooner than in five years?"

He seemed to relax, and gave you a smile.

"I think we could talk about it, yeah. I think I could do with sooner than five years."

"What if it was now instead of being in five years time?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but stopped before he would say anything. He narrowed his eyes, clearly thinking hard.

"Y/N? What…? What do you mean?" he asked in a breath, and you could read hope in his blue eyes.

Hope for a no or a yes, you didn't know yet. Or well, you weren't sure, but you had your suspicions.

"Are you…?" he went on, and you noticed that he was out of breath, his eyes going a little round. "Are you…?"

You slowly nodded.

"I'm pregnant."

His mouth fell open, and he was frozen for a few seconds. A grin slowly formed on his face, and he let out a couple of gasps. He ran a hand through his hair as he stared at you, the shock painted over his features slowly turning into awe.

"You… You're pregnant?" he asked in a shaking voice made hoarse with withheld tears.

You nodded, feeling tears wetting your eyes too.

"Are you disappointed?"

"What? Disappointed? How could I be?"

"That… I don't know…"

He let out a nervous laugh, before jumping to his feet and reaching to wrap his strong arms around you.

"We're gonna have a baby…" he whispered, as if speaking the words out loud would make the realization settle in. You could hear the tears of joy in his voice.

He swept you off the ground, making you giggle.

"Yeah, we're going to have a baby," you grinned, letting your own tears escape too.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too, Chris."

He gave you a passionate kiss, and then gently pulled away, looking at you, and you could see that he was trying to carve the moment in his memory. He looked so happy… and you felt silly for being afraid to tell him. He cupped your face in a gentle caress as you ran your hands through his hair, taking in the joy that bathed the world around the two of you at this moment.

But then he dropped you back to the ground. And with a bright and dreamy grin, he asked you for something else entirely.

"Marry me."

You froze, and you saw that your reaction was making his confidence falter.

You gently pushed him away, clenching your jaw. That was precisely what you dreaded. Him feeling like he had to marry you, to take the next step, because you were expecting his child and not because he wanted to take the step with you.

"Chris… No, that's not… I don't care about that. I don't want you to ask me because I'm pregnant."

"I'm not. I'm asking because I love you."

"Chris, you don't have to act like this because that's what you feel like it's what is expected of you. I don't want that…"

"But I'm not. I just want to marry you. I… I wanted to ask you before you told me you were pregnant."

You snorted, clearly not convinced.

"I… hang on."

He walked back to the armchair where is jacket still rested, and reached for the inside pocket of the piece of clothing. He took a little, dark, velvety box out of it. You frowned at the object.

Chris walked back before you, and went down on one knee at your feet. Dodger tried to lick his face a couple of times, but Chris gently pushed him away with a smile, and the dog sat by his side instead.

"I had planned to take you out to a nice place, that's true. Romantic evening and everything. But I guess now is the perfect moment to ask you. Because I love you, I love you more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And yes, Jesus, yes, I want to build my family with you, I can't imagine anyone else but you to build a home with."

He opened the box to reveal a delicate silvery ring shining in the light of the room. You were crying even more by now.

"I received it today, I had to wait because they didn't have the right size. I guess it arrived just in time. I'm not asking just because I feel responsible for you. I'm asking because I thought about it for months, and when I try to picture my life without you, I can't. I never want to be parted from you. So… would you let me stick around till the end?"

You were too shocked to answer for several seconds. Meanwhile, Dodger was licking Chris's face again, making both of you laugh. And this time, Chris couldn't break free before he had stood up again.

"Even bubba can't wait for your answer. So?" he asked with hope making his blue eyes shine a little brighter than usual.

Of course, you had said yes.

You run your finger on the metal, the wedding band golden against your silvery engagement ring.

It was the best decision of your life you had taken that day…

"Mummy!"

Your daughter came running to you and let herself fall by your side in the grass. Her Red Socks T-shirt was stained with the green of the grass, and her matching cap stood lopsided on her head. She grinned at you, a couple of teeth still missing, but you reckoned it was the brightest grin in the Universe nonetheless.

"What's going on, sweetheart? Did you win against dad?"

"We weren't competing, he was helping me throwing. And I'm getting better, cause he couldn't catch it three times!"

"Three times! That's very good, darling."

You sat up, careful because of your large belly. The baby moved a little with you, and you rested a soothing hand on your stomach.

A month and a half left to wait and there would be another girl added to the family.

Chris appeared behind your daughter, carrying your son, who wore the same cap as his sister.

"Daddy said we're going to get some ice-cream!" the four years-old exclaimed with a grin.

"Ice-cream? Are you sure?"

"Yes! And I already know what I want."

"What flavour do you want then, Danny?"

"Vanilla!"

"Vanilla? Excellent choice," Chris approved. "What about you, Lizzy?"

"Chocolate!"

"Yeah, you're right, chocolate for me too," you nodded, moving to stand.

"Wait, love…" Chris started to put his son down to help you up, but you shook your head with a chuckle.

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

Lizzy was petting Dodger by now, who was more than happy to receive lots of hugs, while you slowly rose from the ground.

"Mummy, when are you going to play with us again?" your son asked.

"After the baby has arrived, darling."

"She can't run fast enough with that big belly, she wouldn't stand a chance against us anyway then," Chris teased, making you roll your eyes. "It wouldn't be fun."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Danny?"

"How do people make babies?"

You and Chris exchanged a glance, and you exploded with laughter.

"You laughed at me and my big belly, so you know what? You're the one to explain it to him," you ordered him.

"Okay, but… tonight, okay? I'll explain it tonight."

"Why not now?" your son naively asked.

"Because it's complicated, so we'll explain you when we're home."

"You, Chris. You will explain him when we're home."

"Alright, Alright…"

"Mum," your daughter called, taking your hand as you slowly started to advance across the grass.

"Yes, darling?"

You walked under the cherry tree a few petals falling upon you and making you all laugh at the sight of petals in your hair.

"Is that true that you can do magic?"

"Magic? Me? Who told you that?"

"Dad, did."

"Me?" Chris asked with a frown. "I've never said that."

"You said that Mum had made your dream come true. And that's magic. Or she's angel. Are you an angel, Mum?"

You gave your daughter a tender smile, before looking at Chris, who reached for your hand.

"No, sweetheart, I'm not an angel. And I can't do magic."

"But then, how did you make dad's dream come true?"

"She loves me, darling," Chris explained. "And my dream was to have you, and Danny, and the baby. My dream was to have a family. And your mum made it all possible, because she loves me."

You leaned to give him a kiss as you walked, and you felt both touched by the situation, tears rising to your eyes and Chris's alike.

Next to you, Lizzie was thinking hard.

"So… does that mean that love is some kind of magic?"

You chuckled.

"Yes, you can say that. It's the only form of magic there is, and it's very powerful."

"And it makes dreams come true, right? Every time?"

Chris wrapped his free arm around you as Dodger was passing next to him, walking a few steps ahead, wiggling his tail happily. In his arms, Danny yawned and rubbed his tired eyes. You guessed he would fall asleep before reaching home.

You turned to your daughter again.

"Yes, it's what makes dreams come true. Sometimes it takes a little time, you have to be patient. But in the end, you'll learn that it's all you need."

You left the peculiar green shades of the trees in sunlight and the cherry flowers behind, but you didn’t mind. The laughter and happiness were by your side.

*******************************************************************

 Tag list : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi

@madamrogers @marvelcapsicle

[ilikecowsnstuff]

CHAPTER 16!!!

SUMMARY:  UA Hero Course - Third Year. Shigaraki Tomura and Dabi have been classmates and rivals since their very first day at UA. But with new feelings developing how will they cope given their history of fragile and often violent encounters? Their dance begins after a partnered training exam goes wrong, leaving Shigaraki wounded and Dabi feeling guilty. AU.

====================

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN - HIS FIRST

 Four missed calls, three voicemails, and eight unopened texts.

 Shigaraki sighed, rubbing at his temple. His phone had died quietly between his impromptu sleepover with Dabi at the Todoroki House and returning to the dorms later that afternoon - without any sound alerts or vibration he had completely forgotten about it. Now that he had it plugged into an outlet and charging, the smartphone was coming alive with vengeance - buzzing, beeping and flashing obnoxiously like it hadn’t enjoyed being neglected for so many hours.

 He plopped down on the edge of his bed and flicked his thumb over the screen, scrolling through the texts one-by-one, and growing increasingly agitated with each one.

 The messages were from Kurogiri and Kai; a mixed bag of emotions starting from wondering where Shigaraki had disappeared too, then turning into concern and finally came the taunting - no doubt after finding out where Shigaraki was and who he was with… and what he was possibly doing with that someone.

 “Tch.” Shigaraki set his mouth into a hard line and quickly tapped out a quick reply to both of his friends, identical and impersonal as was his custom: Phone died. Just got back. Talk Later.

 “Everything okay?” Dabi asked, and the bed dipped beside Shigaraki as Dabi sat down next to him. He placed a hand on Shigaraki’s thigh.

 “Yeah.” Shigaraki scratched frantically at his neck and then set his phone down on his nightstand. He felt weary now that he was sitting on his own bed in his own room. And in desperate need of a shower.

 He felt Dabi’s arm slide around his waist, and then his boyfriend was leaning closer until his lips brushed Shigaraki’s cheek. The kiss was followed by some solicitous nuzzling, Dabi’s face burying into the crook of Shigaraki’s neck.

 Shigaraki sighed, instinctually tilting his head against the affections, “Didn’t you say you had to be somewhere?”

 “It can wait.” And as if right on cue, his phone was buzzing inside the pocket of his jeans. Again. He ignored it. Again. His brother had called him several times since he and Shigaraki had left his parents house to go on what he considered to be their first real date, and he didn’t want to interrupt or ruin it. It was going so well.

 Dabi groaned, drawing Shigaraki closer. He probably did need to know how much trouble he was in. Natsuo didn’t usually call him so relentlessly, and he had a good idea why he was being harassed by his brother.

 After the party, the house was a complete mess and it needed to be cleaned up before Endeavour and his Mom returned from their out-of-town trip that evening. Which was not far off now. It wasn’t as if he was avoiding the post-party-scour, he just wanted to hold onto his boyfriend for a little longer, before the weekend was over.

 “Umm. Dabi?” Shigaraki tried, as warm kisses started to climb up his neck.

 “Mmm?”

 “It’s probably your brother again. Don’t you want to answer that?”

 “Fuck no.” Dabi replied, sucking against the tender skin just below Shigaraki’s ear. Shigaraki moaned and forgot what he was going to say next.

 They could ignore the phone, no big deal, it was hidden away, but the sudden and determined knocking on the door wasn’t so easy to overlook. Dabi chose to turn a deaf ear to it and lifted his hand to frame the side of Shigaraki’s face, drawing his boyfriend into a cleverly improvised makeout session. 

 But the banging on the door was incessant.

 Shigaraki meant to pull away but Dabi was determined and he touched his tongue to the seam of Shigaraki’s mouth. When Shigaraki parted his lips in protest, Dabi deepened the kiss, sliding his fingers back into Shigaraki’s hair and dipping his hot tongue into the other boy’s mouth.

 Knock. Knock. Knock.

 They abruptly broke apart and Shigaraki huffed, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth with irritation. He lowered his chin and his light hair fell forward into his eyes, not long enough to hide his very red face, Dabi chuckled darkly.

 “Shut up.” He went to get up so he could see who was behind the door but Dabi held him firmly in place.

 “I can’t help it.” Dabi replied, breathy. He claimed Shigaraki’s mouth again, kissing him thoroughly, and groaning against his lips. “You look so hot like this. All… hot and bothered.” He leaned in impossibly close, attempting to maneuver Shigaraki to his back.

 Pound. Pound. Pound.

 “Dabi.”

 “Forget them. I’m horny, Mop Head. I need some attention.”

 “Tch.” Shigaraki shoved at his boyfriend’s chest. “Seriously, is your dick all you really think about?”

 “Yes. Well, mostly.”

 “You need to lay off those little blue pills.”

 Dabi laughed, loudly, completely amused. “Mm. I don’t need any pharmaceutical help to get hard. You are the only drug I need.” And to drive the point home, he rocked his growing arousal against Shigaraki’s thigh.

 “Wow.” Shigaraki snorted. “That’s probably the corniest pick-up line I have ever heard.”

 “Oh? Do you often get picked up with corny lines?”

 Shigaraki scowled and jerked his head away, his face heating further. Dabi seized the opportunity and attacked his boyfriend’s exposed neck - a sweet combination of soft lips, the hot drag of his tongue and rough pinching teeth against warm skin.

 “Shigaraki?”

 “Yeah?”

 Dabi kissed his boyfriend’s turned cheek and then nuzzled affectionately into him, evading Shigaraki’s contention. “Am I your first boyfriend?”

 There was a lengthy pause. Silence. Shigaraki’s fingers twitched against Dabi’s side until he finally replied. “Yes.”

 “Girlfriend?”

 “What do you think?”

 Dabi chuckled into Shigaraki’s neck, kissing him again. He kind of already assumed that Shigaraki had never been in a relationship - his aversion to anything touchy feely, and his penchant for keeping others at a safe distance away, were reliable indicators, but that didn’t mean Dabi had been right. It was confirmed now, though, and Dabi couldn’t be happier to be his first of something.

 “Have you… ever…” He lifted his head and looked down at Shigaraki and his scowling face. “You know…”

 Shigaraki interjected, knowing exactly where Dabi’s train of thought was heading. “I am a virgin, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

 Dabi didn’t respond with words. He grinned and trailed soft, slow kisses along Shigaraki’s jawline until the lighter haired boy shifted his head to meet Dabi’s mouth. They kissed languidly, lips pursing and sliding together.

 Dabi was the first to pull away.

 “Aren’t you going to ask me?”

 “Do I need too?”

 Dabi snorted a laugh. “I guess not.”

 “There you go.”

 Dabi was tickled. He adored Shigaraki’s smart-alecky responses - they were impudent yet pragmatic, just like he was. He grinned, hand sliding back into Shigaraki’s tangled hair, trying to bring him into another kiss. With a sweet sound of surrender, Shigaraki moved his head and pressed his mouth to Dabi’s. Though, instead of rushing into a kiss, he swiped his tongue across his boyfriends lower lip, teasing the corners of his mouth.

 Dabi sighed, dipping his head to press his greedy mouth flush against Shigaraki, sealing the kiss. Shigaraki relented, their legs brushing while they kissed, shifting restlessly for a position that benefited them both.

 Dabi was squirming against Shigaraki’s thighs when he felt the unexpected brush of Shigaraki’s palm. He gasped against his boyfriend's mouth, and Shigaraki hesitated, unsure. Dabi arched his hips, encouraging him and just as Shigaraki touched his hand down against him, his phone started to buzz again, vibrating between them. 

 “You have got to be be fucking kidding me.” 

 And unbelievably at the exact same time, came the knocking at the door again. Their date was doomed to end, and leave Dabi with a serious case of blue balls.

 “HOLD ON!” Shigaraki called out and then gently pushed his overly lascivious boyfriend aside, mumbling curses under his breath. He got up to his feet and straightened out his skewed clothes.

 Dabi groaned, flopping back against the bed and adjusting himself. “I guess this means my time is up?” Shigaraki grinned and stalked across the room to open the door for their unwelcome visitor. 

 Standing on the other side of the threshold was his masked friend. Kai had his book bag and laptop in his arms, his golden eyes lighting up with relief at the sight of Shigaraki - like he was happy that Shigaraki had answered the door. But that look quickly faded when he spotted Dabi over his shoulder, lying on Shigaraki’s bed.

 “Hey.” Kai greeted, face softening once again when he returned his gaze to Shigaraki.

 “Hi.”

 “If you’re busy. I can come back la…”

 “I’m not busy.” Shigaraki said with a shrug of his shoulders. “We were just… hanging out.” He stepped back, giving Kai enough room to enter if he wanted too.

 “Okay. Cool.”

 Dabi audibly sighed at the intrusion and then lifted himself up. He supposed his date day with Shigaraki was officially over with the arrival of the newcomer. Dammit. He had been so close to getting some action with his boyfriend again, and he was still very… excited. Maybe he could convince Shigaraki to come to his room later that night and they could finish what they had started…

 “I was just about to leave anyway.” Dabi said. He exchanged a cordial nod with the transfer student as he made his way over to Shigaraki. “Natsuo might have a full-on panic attack if I don’t get home.”

 “You sure you don’t need some help?”

 “Yeah. I’m good.” Dabi grinned and brushed the side of Shigaraki’s face with his fingers. “I’ll text you later.” He dropped his head down and offered his boyfriend a simple kiss against his warmed cheek, cognizant about Shigaraki’s dislike of PDA but also wanting to leave a proper farewell.

 Shigaraki cleared his throat, awkward. “Yep.”

 “See ya.” Dabi grinned and then fished his ringing cell phone from the pocket of his jeans, his face hardening. “Yo. I’m coming now.” He waved goodbye to the two boys and then headed down the hall.

 Shigaraki closed the door and Kai awkwardly glanced around the room, seemingly discouraged to sit on Shigaraki’s bed like he usually would have and chose Shigaraki’s desk chair to sit down in instead. He dumped his belongings on the desk before swinging around.

 “So, you two really are… a thing now, huh?” Kai asked, tugging his mask down to his chin.

 “Uh. Yeah.” Shigaraki replied. “I guess so.”

 Kai watched Shigaraki silently for a moment, surveying him from the opposite side of the room. He couldn’t help but notice Shigaraki’s flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. That added to the time it took for Shigaraki to come to the door and seeing Dabi laying on his bed well, he could only assume that what they had been doing before he had arrived was not just hanging out.

 “What?”

 “Nothing.” He repositioned his mask and then folded his arms over his chest, hiding a blossoming grin.

 He didn’t really understand why, but he was glad that he had interrupted them and felt pretty damn happy about it. Satisfied even. 

====================

Chapter One – Accidental Attraction

Chapter Two – After Care

Chapter Three – Dazed and Confused

Chapter Four – I Like You

Chapter Five - Friends and Enemies

Chapter Six - Confrontation!

Chapter Seven - Transfer Student

Chapter Eight - A Period of Learning

Chapter Nine - Work and Play

Chapter Ten - Friday

Chapter Eleven - Extraordinary Day

Chapter Twelve - The Problem with Relationships.

Chapter Thirteen - Will You Go Out With Me?

Chapter Fourteen - A Not So Innocent Birthday Request

Chapter Fifteen - The Morning After

[dreamy-heichou]

Hello dear!! Congrats for 500 followers! 😁😁 Can I ask for 39 and 36? A little angsty but very fluffy in the end? The list is amazing btw, lots of good ideas especially for extreme angst but I'm not brave enough to ask for those XD

Aww thank you!! ♥♥ I’m really glad you like the list, I was so excited to make/post it!! :D I tried to make a diversified list, but that doesn’t mean I want to write big angst too, our boys deserve a happy ending! :’) (though someone requested pure angst, and I will write it, but i’m not ready for it tbh D’:)

Anyway, here are your requested prompts combined together! I hope you’ll like it! :)

Send me a prompt

36: “Shh. You’re okay now. It’s over.” 

39: “I never got to tell you how I felt back then.”

WARNING: Manga spoilers ahead!!

************

Eren’s eyes are heavy. He can feel himself slowly getting out of the deep sleep he was in, gradually regaining consciousness. For a moment, he is confused about where he is and what time it is, then he sees the red digits coming from a radio alarm indicating 3 a.m. and he remembers.

Last night, he stayed at Levi’s place for the first time. The raven always found excuses for them not to spend the night together, even though they started dating a few months ago, and Eren never tried to push his luck. He agrees with Levi to go slowly with their relationship, to not rush anything and get reacquainted with each other first.

Even if they both remember their past lives, both remember the feelings they both shared then, now is a different time and they have different lives. They ended up dating quite rapidly though, but being in a relationship didn’t change the pace they had agreed on. Levi is a very secret person and Eren respects that. He is too, or at least he doesn’t know how to express what he feels well, even though he is better at it than Levi.

However, last night was different. They ended up going to Levi’s apartment and the man didn’t say anything when it should have been time for Eren to go back home. Instead, he led him to his bedroom for them to sleep.

A small smile cracks on Eren’s face at the memory of their previous night together, and he closes his eyes once again. He is about to go back to sleep when suddenly he hears heavy breathing next to him, wondering how he didn’t hear it earlier, and turns to look at Levi. Worry overtakes his sense and his stomach drops once he is face to face with the man.

He is sitting on the bed, head in his hands, his eyes wide open but looking at nothing in particular. His breathing is extremely quick and heavy, and he also looks like he is sweating a lot. Eren approaches a tentative hand towards the raven’s arm, not really sure of what to do in this situation. Is he having a panic attack?

“Levi?”

The moment his hand touches his pale skin, Levi flinches and slaps Eren’s hand away, his eyes looking frantic and frightened, a small whimper of distress coming out of his lips. Eren immediately backs away, putting both of his hands next to his head to show him he means no harm. He feels like a knife just went through his heart.

He has never seen Levi in such a state, and thus has no idea what to do to calm him down. It doesn’t even look like Levi recognized him, still trapped in whatever illusions his brain created to the point of rendering him like this, and he has to try really hard not to get too close to his frightened boyfriend.

“Levi, it’s me! Eren! Do you hear me?”

The man seems to register his words, or maybe his tone, that Eren tried to make as soft and gentle as he could, and looks at him with eyes wide open, his body shaking uncontrollably.

“E-Eren?” His voice is weak and so low that Eren almost didn’t hear it, but he understood what he said by the movement of his lips.

“Yes. It’s Eren. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Before he has time to comprehend what is happening, Eren can feel Levi’s arms encircling his chest, his head hiding inside the croak of his neck. The sudden movement takes his breath away for a second, before he can regain his composure and focus on the man wrapped around his body. He can feel more than see Levi’s body shaking now, and he restrain himself from touching his lover, not yet sure if he can without scaring him like earlier.

“E-Eren…”

A small sob escapes his lips at the same time as his name, and the brunet’s heart shatters at the sound. Never has he seen nor heard Levi cry before, and seeing how fragile he is in that moment makes his eyes start to sting. They are the same person they used to be but at the same time they aren’t, Eren tries to remember. Levi’s armor isn’t as thick as it used to be. He is more vulnerable than before.

A surge of love and tenderness overwhelms him and he finally acts on his pulsion, wrapping his arms around Levi’s shaking figure, a hand slowly petting his hair to comfort him while he whispers sweet nothings and reassurances in his ears. Levi’s grip only grows tighter at Eren’s actions, and the brunet takes it as a sign he can go on, putting all of his feelings inside the soft kisses he puts on the crown of his hair and the affectionate caresses on his back.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eren rocks him back and forth, in relative silence, waiting for Levi’s shaking to stop or for him to say something. He thinks he knows what actually happened, but he won’t ask nor force the man to say anything.

Eventually, Levi relaxes in his arms but doesn’t come out of his hiding place on Eren’s shoulder. His breathing is calmer, slower, but still Eren waits for the man to take the first step.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” Levi says weakly, his voice hoarse from his crying.

“That’s why we never spent the night together before?” Levi slowly nods against his neck but says nothing, and once again Eren waits for him to break the silence.

“I… I have nightmares every night. It’s the same one over and over again. And I- I can’t…”

“I have nightmares too. You know I won’t judge you on this.”

Levi weakly nods once again, his hand coming to cover the one Eren is using to prevent them from falling backwards. He caresses it slowly, softly stroking his knuckles in a calming way. Eren knows how much Levi struggles to express himself sometimes, knows he’s probably trying to clear the mess in his head.

“I hate being this… weak. I hate the fact that this memory is haunting me every night. But I can’t- I can’t control it. And I’m so so tired, Eren.”

The brunet continues drawing circles on Levi’s back, showing the man he is there with him, for him. He has seen the bags under his eyes, noticed them a while ago, but he didn’t ask. He knows Levi wouldn’t have answered, knows Levi is telling him this now because he witnessed his breakdown, but he also agreed to Eren staying the night, so surely it means he was ready to talk about it anyway. Eren would hate for Levi to tell him all of this only because he feels cornered and forced to tell him everything. He knows it’s false, but it still crosses his mind.

A few minutes of silence after, Levi slowly starts to tell Eren all about what is haunting him. It is a memory the brunet wasn’t even aware of, something that happened while he was busy somewhere else. The explanation behind Zeke arriving to Shiganshina despite Levi being with him before. He knew it meant somehow that something might have happened to Levi, but he had other things to think about then.

However, this… What Levi went through… It breaks his heart and a wave of guilt washes over him. He is partially to blame for this. He is partially responsible for Zeke trying to get away from Levi in order to join him in Shiganshina, to the point of making the lightning spear Levi had put inside of him explode. It’s partially his fault Levi has nightmares every night now, seeing the moment of the explosion, feeling all the emotions that he experienced then.

Surprise. Shock. Fear. Pain. Agony.

Levi starts shaking again while telling Eren everything about his nightmare and the brunet can only bring him closer to him. At some point, Levi starts scratching the right side of his face and pulling at his fingers on his right hand, and Eren immediately stops him. He takes Levi’s right hand, holding it tightly, while caressing his face affectionately.

“Shh. You’re okay now. It’s over.” He kisses his face, first on his right eye, then down his cheek while stroking the other one with his thumb. “You’re not hurt anywhere. It’s just a memory.”

Eren keeps on showering Levi’s face in soft kisses until he can feel him relax under his touch, his shaking gone. He can feel Levi gripping his hand back, a little bit too strongly, but he doesn’t mind it. It shows how much Levi is in pain, and letting him grip his hand in a tight crush is the only thing he can do for him, besides being here for him.

Eventually they lie down on the bed, facing each other, their hands still linked between their two bodies, Eren’s other hand stroking Levi’s side slowly. The raven closes his eyes for a few minutes, enjoying the contact on his skin, squeezing Eren’s hand from time to time, showing him he’s not asleep.

Levi is the first one to break the silence, bringing a hand towards Eren’s head and stroking his long hair which isn’t tied up like usual. He puts a few brown locks behind his ear carefully, clearing his boyfriend’s face to see him more clearly, and Eren smiles fondly at him.

“What are your nightmares about?” His voice is very low, careful.

Eren studies his face to understand the sudden question, until he can feel Levi’s thumb caressing his hand again. Levi isn’t good when talking about his feelings, or feelings in general, but he still tries from time to time. Eren has noticed his body would show sign of his unease in those moments, since Levi talks more with actions than with words, and this is one of them. The raven doesn’t like being under the spotlight and would rather listen to someone else -Eren- talk than talk himself.

Eren tells him all about his nightmares. They are never the same, unlike Levi, but they are enough to wake him up at night, drenched in sweat, his heartbeat alarmingly fast. Sometimes they are about the day the Colossal Titan appeared, breaking the walls, resulting in his mother’s doom. Sometimes they are just about Titans in general, devouring people, sometimes he can recognize those people and see the despair on his former comrades’ faces. He also dreams about his time in Marley, the battle in Liberio, and also the one in Shiganshina later on. Levi listens to him intensely, still running his hand in his hair, his grey eyes never leaving his teal ones.

Eventually, their conversation strays from nightmares to their past memories, and from bad memories to good ones. They talk about their days in the Survey Corps, of the friends they haven’t seen in a while, of the moments they spent together. There had been very few towards the end, and Eren bits his lip in front of the nostalgia on Levi’s face. There were so many unspoken things between them back then, so many missed occasions for them to be together.

Eren bring his hand to Levi’s jaw, cupping his face while looking intensely in his eyes, a tender and wistful smile on his lips.

“I never got to tell you how I felt back then.” He softly whispers.

It started as a hero crush, but as he got to really know the man hidden behind the mask, he realized how alike they were and how they understood each other perfectly. Levi helped him grow and become a better person, more assured, and along the way his feelings towards the man became more intense and less innocent. However, Eren had been too preoccupied with freeing Paradis and his people. He had too much on his shoulder to take time to settle and listen to his desires. He had to protect everyone from their fates, Levi included.

It had been bad timing for them.

Now they have a chance to start all over again, to make things right and follow their heart’s desires instead of their soldier’s duties. They can be what they couldn’t be before, say what they couldn’t say. They can be together without endangering anyone, not even each other. They can be selfish for once and stop thinking about others. They had accomplished their duties. They deserved some rest.

Levi smiles softly at Eren’s words, bringing the brunet closer to him, kissing his forehead delicately before pressing his own against his. They look at each other for a while, without saying anything, letting the silence envelop them like a warm blanket. Their hands are still leisurely stroking the other’s face, or squeezing the other’s hand.

“Stay with me.” Levi whispers after a few minutes looking fondly at each other. Eren is first surprised by the sudden request, but his features relax at the look of pure adoration on the raven’s face. “Not just tonight.”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t feel the need to when he can bring Levi even closer to him and kiss him deeply, passionately, putting all his feelings inside the movement of his lips against his. Levi seems eager to reply with his own kisses, showing his lover he means every word he said and even more, the ones he cannot say but which Eren can understand with his touches and body language.

They are inside a bubble of silence and tenderness, relishing the other’s presence and their closeness. It’s like time itself has stopped around them, and they savor this sensation by kissing, touching, conveying everything that they feel. The moon is the only witness of this very private and intimate exchange between the two men, bathing their bodies in its surreal light and illuminating their skins with a silver glow.

Eventually their eyes close, the face of their significant other burnt behind their eyelids with promises of a peaceful night and pleasant dreams. Their hearts are full, appeased by the warmth of their bodies flushed against each other, their breathing meddling with one another. And in that instant, they both make the same wish, born from the same corner of their minds and souls.

I don’t want to spend another night without you by my side.

[nomoretears-707]

Eruri Week 2019 // Day 3.

On AO3: (x) 

(((There’s a little of intimacy in this one, but it’s not explicit.)))

—

//Only one bed//

—

Having Levi with him in ​​this bed, sharing this kind of space with him, is different. In fact, it’s always different, because we are all different, but no: with Levi, another kind of things happen, another kind of sensations flow.

Being in this bed with Levi is an out of body experience.

It's not about his beauty, which is moving because of how intense, how unique it is, nor how much they complement each other even in the most intimate. Levi's charm, actually, comes from the scars that he has.

He sees them under the dim light that illuminates them, which stains the entire room in bronze and shadows: kissing the whitish chest of inconceivable softness considering the strength that he has, Levi's scars are on his skin without actually being there. They are like flares, stars that ignite, that extinguish, that not every pupil would tolerate to look at. They are scars that not everyone can read, not because the language in which they express themselves is incomprehensible, but because Levi himself forbids his reading. Because reaching him is difficult, it always will be. Because although Levi cares for everyone with a naturalness worthy of the best men who can populate this world, he's not someone who can tolerate self-directed concern. This moves Erwin, infects him with an unusual tenderness that he’s barely able to bear.

It's about wondering if he deserves this knowledge, the one which allows him to read Levi perfectly every time they are alone, on this bed in which they share the same intimacy, one that is not just physical, that is emotional, mental, spiritual.

Absolute.

The back arches in the only way it could do it given the scars that this body carries: it does so abruptly. The scars explain why with very few words: violence has educated Levi, it has shaped him from day one, during the path he has made up to this precise moment. To express feelings, to allow himself to accept them, to enjoy them, to treasure them; everything that’s incompatible with violence is difficult for Levi. The skin screams so much experiences that reaching the fragility it covers is something that would be impossible for anyone.

Until Erwin, who has Levi in ​​his arms and continues to wonder why, with the weight of so many deaths on his shoulders, he deserves to be able to read the scars that cover this skin.

Erwin holds each Levi's arm on each side of their bodies. Keeping them immobilized, he descends with kisses that go from the chest to the stomach. Levi shakes abruptly with every touch, almost as if the kisses bothered him, but it’s not the case: Erwin has learned to understand that Levi is shaken like this for a single reason, that tied to violence.

He doesn't know how to react to tenderness.

Many nights inside this bed has needed Erwin to understand. Because what attracted them, in the first place, was a sort of chemistry that suffocated them when they looked at each other, something related to lust, not love. But how inevitable to fall in love when he noticed the endless difficulties Levi had to get carried away in every aspect of a relationship. Like a cat mistreated by its owners, by the environment, by other cats, thrown into the dirty streets of the Underground City without tools but full of needs. The survival of the strongest inside the worst scenario, having had to learn to survive punch by punch, loss by loss. How does a stray cat react to the tender caresses of a human?

Attacking to protect itself.

He laughs over Levi's navel: what an easy idea to compare Levi with a cat, but how useful the metaphor despite being a cliché. When it's about him, it works, because the first encounters on this bed were full of urgency, instinct, need over mere enjoyment. He was like a cat; he was scared behind the scars.

How long it took him to show Levi that he didn't have to defend himself from a caress that was full of good intentions.

Kneeling before Levi, Erwin separates his legs with an almost ceremonial slowness. He kisses the inside of the right thigh, just below the knee; Levi shivers when his mouth touches him. The tense body takes its time to relax, the same time that Erwin needs to reach the end of the thighs, where the excitement is already explicit. When Erwin kisses Levi there, when his mouth begins to give him pleasure, Levi stifles a groan as he clenches his teeth. He breathes between those, growls, and his voice becomes throatier between gasps. His legs tremble on each side of Erwin's head, his hands holding on to the sheets with too much strength, one incompatible with the slowness and gentleness that Erwin's mouth expresses.

"Shit!" Erwin hears Levi mumble without air, as if he were holding himself, at the same moment in which a hand passes from the sheet to Erwin's hair, which squeezes in order to ask for more.

Erwin uses his left hand to hold Levi's one, both over his hair. Stroking it with his fingers, urges Levi's hand to calm down, to not to be on the defensive, to not react violently to such a sweet attention.

Rejecting Levi's violence would be like rejecting him himself: it's nonsense. However, they have learned, together, to find pleasure in tenderness, too. For Erwin, it wasn’t that hard; for Levi, was the hardest thing. To learn how to accept love was almost impossible for him.

To learn how to accept that human hand’s caress on this bed has been overwhelming, but beautiful, for both.

That was the key to reach the rest.

Erwin can read the scars thanks to that learning, he knows how to read them, just as he knows how to look between them: they cover, all of them, a unique, special sensibility, that deserves to be protected, yes, but also pleased.

Maybe that's why he deserves to share this bed with Levi, thinks Erwin by accelerating a little, almost imperceptibly, the constant movement of his mouth. Maybe that's why, because at some point of those suffocating first meetings Levi's scars opened wide enough to let him know what it was under the violence.

A warm heart that still knows how to feel.

Despite the punches, the abandonments, the losses, the injustice, Levi's heart has never stopped feeling nor has allowed itself to lose that warmth. And how surprising it would have been for any other person, surely, to find this treasure inside this heart. But not for Erwin, who knew it from the first time in the Underground City, from the first image of Levi flying free through the dark, artificial sky.

Erwin saw this heart full of freedom from the first second, and never hesitated, and never fought to tame him, because doing so would have meant taking away everything that made him unique.

Levi was shaped by violence and he's not good at expressing emotions, but that will never mean he doesn't feel them. Nor does it mean that this heart shouldn’t repress the need of exploring itself through other kinds of emotions, those that are incompatible with the skin that covers it, but that are related to its unlimited capacity to feel.

This heart that beats so hard while Erwin accelerates deserves to have empathy for itself, the same that it always has for everyone else.

That’s why Levi allowed him to read his scars, maybe, because Erwin inspired him enough confidence to open his heart in two. When Erwin remembers himself frustrated, defeated, worried before Levi after a hard expedition full of blood and death, when he remembers Levi encouraging him in the midst of desolation, he understands that yes.

As if it were the most natural thing for them, people who carry different difficulties when it comes to feeling, they have given to each other the right confidence to do so without fear, without regretting. That's why this bed they share far away from the world, which is the complete symbol of what their relationship means, has allowed him to read Levi's scars, because Levi trusts him as much as Erwin does.

Because Levi knows how to read his scars, too.

The mouth stops, but doesn't abandon what it does; Erwin caresses the hand that hasn't stopped tightening his hair when he returns to a slow, leisurely pace, without any urgency. Magically, or not, Levi's hand changes, relaxes, and caresses his hair instead of tightening it, while his voice, when panting, softens. The legs stop trembling, the eyelids fall; Levi has opened his scars, cleared the path to his own feelings.

Only then Erwin accelerates, and intensifies his movements, and gives place to his experience in order to give Levi the pleasure he deserves.

Levi screams, he does it fiercely, the only way he knows how to do it when the heat of enjoyment expands through his body as it explodes between his legs. Then he doesn't do anything else.

Erwin dries his lips and gets up. He takes Levi in ​​his arms, who falls on his chest, and opens the sheets. He puts him to bed, covers him and does the same to his right. He looks at him, and although Levi's eyes express coldness, no: under the pupils, the emotion is extreme.

How stupid to think of feelings as a weakness, Erwin concludes, feeling the emotion in Levi's eyes as an exact reflection of his. The feelings of a warm and free heart that hasn’t lost the desire to beat can be incompatible with violence, but not with strength.

Because that's Levi for Erwin, in this bed and everywhere: he's the strongest person he knows. Not only for being able to kill titans out there, for being that guy of the nicknames that make him so popular or the soldier who inspires all his comrades to not give up.

Levi is the strongest because it's his heart the one who feels the most.

[hjbender]

please give us an excerpt of one of your fics. . . ? 👀

Certainly! Here’s a continuation of that Thorki merfolk AU I hope to have finished in time for Mermay this year.

When Loki came to a few hours later, he found himself lying on a bed in a dim, claustrophobic cabin. His hand had been treated with a poultice and bandaged, but that was the extent of the care he’d been given. He tried to move his fingers and succeeded, but at a painful price.

Thor had known, of course, that this was his magic-dominant hand. Some sea sorcerers preferred their tentacles—or their tails or other limbs—to be the conveyors of their powers, while some used objects, like a staff or a wand. Loki had chosen his left hand to be the instrument through which he cast his magic, and until it fully healed, there would be no further enchanting, cursing, or supernatural shenanigans from him.

That, combined with the fact that his tail had been secured to the bed with ropes, further exemplified just how grave his situation was. Not that he believed Thor would kill or mutilate him, but Loki was very conscious of the eighteen years’ worth of pranks, mischief, and antagonizing the human had endured at his hands, and the thought that he might finally be forced to account for all his devious deeds thoroughly worried him.

He sat up and tried to pick at the heavy knots binding his tail, but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside the door. He threw himself back down and pretended to be asleep. A few seconds later Thor entered the room carrying a wooden mug in his hand, and shut the door behind him. Loki watched him through the fuzz of his eyelashes as he set the mug down on the little table beside the bed.

“I know you’re awake, Loki. You can stop pretending.”

Loki opened one eye. “How could you tell?”

“Because I’ve seen you sleep,” Thor said, taking a seat on a nearby stool. “Your jaw hangs loose and you get a little stream of spit flowing from the corner of your mouth. Sometimes it bubbles. It’s quite disgusting, really.”

Loki sat up with a scowl and reached over to claim the offered mug. He sipped its steaming contents and tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible. It proved difficult for this was red tea, his very favorite human beverage, and it was kept aboard the Mjolnir for the sole purpose of his private consumption. Thor had prepared it exactly the way he liked it too, with honey and a splash of milk.

“Hm,” he murmured, smirking. “Too bad those disgusting sleeping habits of mine never put you off.”

Thor smiled. “Indeed. Sometimes I wonder how different my life would be if you hadn’t stolen my heart at the tender age of seventeen.”

“Thor, you were never tender, especially at seventeen. Let’s be honest.”

“You’re never honest.”

“That’s honestly the worst thing you’ve ever said about me.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Well, the truth hurts. You should really be more gentle to me. You know how fragile I am.” He sipped his tea after an arrogant arch of his eyebrow.

“Oh, Loki, Loki.” Thor sighed and rubbed his tired face. “How long are we going to keep this up? For the rest of our lives?”

“What, you don’t find this fun anymore?” Loki sourly held up his bandaged hand. “I certainly do.”

Thor grimaced, sheepish. “I am sorry for that, truly. But I could think of no other way to arrange a serious conversation between the two of us, especially without the influence of your sorcery.”

“Well, I’d say you’ve succeeded in getting your wish.” Loki set the cup aside and reclined once more against the pillows. “So what do you want to talk about, Thor? Your father? The weather? Maybe you’d like to tell me why I’m tied to your bed? Yes, let’s start there. I’m rather curious myself.”

“Look”—Thor lifted his finger and straightened his back—“I learned my lesson the last time you got combative in close quarters. That tail of yours—which I admire, by the way, it gets lovelier every year—is the destroyer of worlds and I don’t want it wrecking my cabin.”

“Is that the only reason?” Loki grinned nastily. “Here I am, wounded and powerless, tied to the bed of a man who hasn’t had sex in two and a half years, and you would have me believe your intentions are innocent? Forgive me if I seem just a little incredulous.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I am no longer interested in you.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” Thor shook his head and sighed. “I’ve spent enough years of my life pursuing you, Loki. I waited for you, made excuses for you, I clung to the hope that your heart might be changed and someday you would return all the kindness and affection I’ve shown you. But I see now that it is a vain hope. You will never change. You’re going to be the same self-centered, mischievous rogue you’ve always been. As for me, well, I am a king now. I’ve a kingdom to rule. My days of living on the seas are over. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m resigning my position as captain of the Mjolnir and returning to land. Permanently.”

Loki sat up, his eyes wide and worried. “Returning to land? But you—” He stopped and cleared his throat, collecting himself. “I mean, that’s perfectly alright, but what about my supplies? Who’s going to get them for me now?”

“I don’t know.” Thor shrugged indifferently. “You’ll find someone, though. You were always very adaptable.”

Loki sucked his lower lip between his teeth and held it there, trying to calm his frantic thoughts.

For close to two decades Thor had been supplying him with various land-sourced ingredients he needed for his potions. One might say that was how their relationship began—a business venture between two young men of two different worlds, trading pearls for feathers, shells for wood ash, and, on one occasion, a kiss for a pair of beautiful jade green moths. Thor had even once managed to haggle Loki out of a lock of his hair for the price of a wolf’s tooth; Thor had braided the lock into his own tresses, inky black woven between strands of golden brown, which he still wore to this day.

Loki didn’t realize he’d been staring at the little braid until Thor noticed, then he tore his eyes away with a haughty sniff. “Yes. Well. I’d been thinking it’s about time I start seeing other humans, anyway. This is the perfect impetus.”

“Exactly. It’s the best for both of us.”

“Oh, no doubt. We’ve been in this stagnant phase for quite a while now.”

“Quite.”

“And my potions are getting a little dull. I think a change in latitude and some new ingredients will help invigorate them.”

“You could go to the tropics,” said Thor helpfully. “The reefs down there are bursting with all sorts of amazing things. You’d make a killing.”

“That’s a wonderful suggestion, Thor. I might just do that.”

“Promise you’ll think of me when you’re down there in those lovely warm climes?” Thor heaved a wistful sigh. “I must remain here in the gray, bleak north, sitting on a throne day in and day out, commanding my legions of servants, with nothing to do during the dark winter months but count my vast, growing wealth and make love to beautiful women.”

Loki narrowed his eyes and hoped he didn’t look as jealous as he felt. “Sounds dreadfully boring. Alas, these things must be done.”

“Alas.” Thor gave Loki a winsome smile. “I’m so glad we agree on this. It’s a weight off my shoulders.”

“Oh, you have no idea how relieved I am,” Loki insisted. “I was afraid your infatuation with me would never end, but I see now how wrong I was. You will be a marvellous king, Thor. I wish you the very best.”

“Thank you. I pray you find the power and affluence and approval you so desperately seek. I’m sure you will, you’re very clever.”

Loki smiled with clenched teeth. “Why, thank you. That’s a kind thing to say.”

“You’re very welcome. More tea?”

[firegrilled]

Mommas’ Boys - Part 6

@erejeanweek2k19​ Prompt: Emotional Scars Cont

Part 1 | Part 7

The hit echoed loudly, earning multiple gasps from the crowd of kids and other chaperones that now descended onto the dancefloor.

Jean’s face fell at first before his anger exploded and boiled his blood. “You asshole!”

Celine didn’t budge from the hit, keeping her footing. She inhaled a deep breath, her hand brushing against her stinging cheek.

“…and someone who hits a lady. Yeah, you’re a real man,” Celine replied, her response dripping with sarcasm.

Before he could reply she jabbed Mr. Wagner in the throat causing him to gag and grab his neck. Then Celine lifted her heel and stabbed the stiletto into the man’s foot. She felt the stiletto snap and followed through with a swift kick to his balls. When Mr. Wagner lurched forward in pain, Celine grabbed his head and slammed it into her knee, allowing the man to crumple to the ground in agony.

“You bitch!” He shouted, his voice an octave higher. He rolled around in pain as other adults arrived.

“Sounds like I might be even more man than you now.”

Smirking, Celine turned to check on her son. She ignored the awkward walking pattern of having one functional heel.

“You’re no man-”

“You must’ve started with the world’s cruelest handicap if you’re having a dick measuring contest with a women,” Levi’s icy tone cut through Mr. Wagner’s weak voice.

Levi stepped to the front of the crowd with Erwin trailing just behind him.

“I’m going to sue the shit out of her! I want her and her son arrested for assault!” Mr. Wagner demanded as he slowly got back up. He hissed as he wiped blood away from his nose.

Erwin straightened his black tie, and patted his cowlick down.

“No you will not. We heard and saw everything. Harassing and assaulting students is already a major offense, let alone their mother. Between the security footage and witnesses there’s no court that would ever convict a single mother defending herself and her son. In fact, I can’t wait to hear what charges are brought up against you. Now get out of here and don’t ever come near my school,” Erwin ordered.

“But-”

“Security!” Erwin called out, a few guards emerging from the entrances.

In a matter of moments the dance floor was cleared and everyone moved to nearby rooms while the museum processed the situation themselves. Once it was all said and done, the clock in the courtyard struck a loud bell signaling midnight.

“Well, you might want to get Jean an X-Ray,” Erwin spoke, glancing at Jean who winced with every step.

“That was the plan,” Celine sighed. “He’s a tough boy for not complaining for so long.”

“I think we all know where he gets it from,” Carla added, appearing right by Celine. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Celine smirked, chuckling. “It’s been quite a while since I needed to do something so crude. Marriage and motherhood tempers a personality once you realize you’re caring for more than yourself.”

“Kick ass moves, Celine,” Levi complimented. He walked over to Erwin and leaned on his taller half.

“Thanks, but I really should take Jean to the hospital. I’m sad he’s missing his last after prom but better to be safe than sorry,” Celine shook her head. As she turned to leave, she glanced back at the principal. “Oh, and Erwin? You’re wearing the wrong tie. Unless Levi is adopting your pastel aesthetic.”

Levi and Erwin’s eyes widened, instantly looking down at their ties. Levi undid the baby blue tie around his neck and rushed to give it to his boyfriend.

Celine strolled over to the other high schoolers, finding Jean exchanging jokes with his prom group as well as Connie and Sasha.

“Jean, honey, it’s time to go to the hospital,” Celine interrupted their conversation.

Her son frowned but nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

“Bye Jean!” His friends waved to his as he walked over to his mom.

Jean remained quiet while he accompanied his mom to her old Honda. He inhaled sharply when he clicked his seatbelt in but tried to ignore the persistent pain in his chest. His eyes locked onto his lap while Celine started the car and began the long drive to the nearest hospital. The quiet hum of the ancient engine buzzed in his ears along with his guilt.

“Mom, I… I… I didn’t know you could fight,” Jean struggled to find words. It wasn’t what clawed at his consciousness but it was at least the truth.

“Now you know where you got your temperament from,” Celine giggled, trying to thaw the cold atmosphere in the car. Her eyes occasionally glanced at her son, recognizing all his tells.

Jean didn’t make eye contact, slouched in his seat despite his injury, and rubbed his hands back and forth over his thighs.

“I didn’t- Well, I mean… I wish you didn’t get involved.”

Celine frowned upon hearing that.

“My son was being attacked by a grown ass man. Well, I’m pretty sure I popped something so I don’t think he’s a man anymore-”

Jean snorted at his mom’s joke, accidentally cutting her off.

“He tried to beat up my son. No mother would let that happen,” she continued.

“Yeah, but… There’s something I need to tell you,” Jean’s voice lowered, suddenly more fragile. His hands stopped moving and grabbed onto his legs when he started trembling. “I… What they called me… called us. They weren’t entirely wrong and that’s what pissed me off! Thomas can call me what he want but not the others. They don’t deserve that.”

“No one does, Jean. And don’t you ever dare think that anyone can call you that,” Celine stated. “There are plenty of bullies in life no matter how old you get but you must learn to deal with them in other ways. Violence isn’t always the answer, though it does feel good. And I guess we’re going to be able to pay for your college now but-”

“Mom, stop making jokes. It hurts to laugh!” Jean begged as laughter wracked his body. His smile fell into a frown as the memory of the night came back to him. “They said our dads would be ashamed of us for being… for liking guys. And when he kept calling us fa-”

“Jean Kirschtein don’t you ever say that word,” Celine all but yelled as she pulled the car over, her knuckles white from griping the steering wheel so tightly. “No matter your choices, or your preferences, your father would’ve loved you just like I have.”

Jean’s face snapped to face his mom, revealing a scared yet sullen expression. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks. He quietly spoke. “Maman?”

“Your father was a tender and gentle soul, unlike either of us. He cared deeply for those around him, not unlike you which is why I fell for him. A man of few words but sharp as a tack and very easy on the eyes… But I digress. Before his health took a turn for the worst he spent most of waking hours with you. Even when he was frail from the chemo he held onto you so tightly, the light of his life. I know you have many questions about your father that I’ve never answered since even now the memories are bittersweet but never doubt one thing: he loved you. He loved you for who you are and for what you’ve become. He’d be so so proud to see how you’ve grown.”

Celine placed her hand on her son’s shoulder, firm but gentle. She bit back her own tears as old memories swirled in her head but the multiple emotions that played across the canvas that was Jean’s face left her trying to keep her composure.

“Mom, I like boys and girls,” Jean whispered, his voice low like he was stating a terrible fact. He sounded like a kid caught with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

“That’s fine sweetie. I love you and that’ll never change. Thank you for being brave enough to tell me this,” Celine replied, reciting the lines she’d practiced for so long in her head. Not that Jean ever needed to know that. “Now let’s go see if you actually broke something or if you’ve been a big baby.”

“Maman!” Jean squawked as the car came back to life.

“Now as a mother I must know, are you really dating Mikasa? She spent the whole night with that little blonde girl,” Celine wondered, already noticing the pink tinting her son’s cheeks.

“Her name is Annie,” Jean informed her. He released a deep breath and dabbed his face with his sleeves. “No we haven’t been dating for almost six months. We came out to each other and wanted to hide it from everyone. Though Eren and Armin knew. She and Annie have been a thing for a few weeks now.”

“Does that mean you’re seeing someone? Is it Marco? Oh honey please don’t tell me you’re dating your future college roommate-” Celine started as a realization dawned on her.

“Whoa, no! I mean we dated in middle school but no. He’s been seeing Armin for a while. Apparently they’ve been in some sort of weird long distance relationship that started out as pen pals or something. I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Really? What about Eren? We saw you two dancing before things hit the fan.”

“You saw that?” Jean asked as his eyes widened and his voice jumped an octave. He quickly clearly his throat and sunk into his seat, trying to hide his tinted cheeks. “No, ew. Why would I like him? I just gave him a pity dance.”

Rolling her eyes, Celine tried to hide her smirk. “Of course, honey. We’re here.”

The trip to the hospital took time but eventually the staff was able to confirm that nothing was broken but Jean definitely had bruising. With a prescription for bedrest and some painkillers, Celine and Jean returned home to retire for the evening. They had just walked into the house when a knocking from the door caught them by surprise.

“Who the hell would come here this late?” Jean asked as he pushed himself up from the couch to answer the door. “Oh, hello.”

“Who is it, honey?” Celine called from another room.

“Hi, Jean, may we come in?” Carla asked.

“Ye-yes. Come on in. Mom, the Jaegers are here!” Jean called back as Carla and Eren walked in, quietly shutting the door behind them.

“I got this for ya. Hope you’re doing well,” Eren spoke, his voice much quieter than usual as he extended a plastic grocery bag.

Jean took it and quickly pulled out a tub of cookies and cream ice cream.

“Oh, my favorite. Thanks! And yeah just some bruising. I’ll live.”

Celine stepped out of the kitchen to see the two boys talking over something while Carla made a beeline for her.

“Sorry for stopping by so late, but Eren insisted on checking up on Jean. He even wanted to skip after prom but Mikasa insisted he stay until Jean got out of the hospital. How’d that go?” Carla wondered.

“Well, it was productive,” Celine chuckled before clarifying. She pulled a stool out for Carla while she prepared coffee for the pair. She elaborated in more detail about the car ride. Tears threatened to come forth once more but she restrained herself once more until a gentle tap from Carla brought a somber smile to her face.

“Thank you for telling me so much. Jean’s so lucky to have such a caring and warm mother. You’ve raised such a fine boy and even took his coming out with a much better attitude than myself or my husband,” Carla chuckled at the ridiculous memory.

“Well I had a mother’s intuition for a while. It helps.”

“Sorry to go off topic but where do you keep the bowls and spoons? I think both boys have earned the right to eat some ice cream before bed,” Carla asked, standing up.

Celine pointed to a cabinet and a drawer just below it. “Yeah they’ve been through a lot today.”

Carla retrieved the bowls and spoons, walking towards the living room. She took two steps into the room before doing a U-turn and dropping what she grabbed onto the counter with a clatter. Carla’s eyes were wide and unblinking.

“Are you okay, Carla?” Celine quirked an eyebrow at the unusual expression.

“I owe Levi a bottle of Chardonnay.”

That answer left Celine even more confused.

“What? Why?”

“Uh, what’s a gentle way to put this… your son’s choice in people takes after his father.”

Celine almost spat out her coffee when she understood the meaning of that sentence.

To Be Continued

[theajaheira]

sick day

read it on ao3!

Jenny figured that talking Willow down from her “Oh My God How Much Work Did I Miss” panic would be the hardest part of flu season, but when Rupert started coughing uncontrollably in the middle of a faculty meeting, she realized with an unpleasant jolt that she had an extremely difficult challenge ahead of her.

Namely, getting her workaholic of a boyfriend to take care of himself.

for @worn-whorehouse-stairs, who asked for sleep-deprived/loopy giles. this isn’t Exactly All About That, but i hope it is still something nice to read!!! i love u bunches and you deserve all the nice things <33

set somewhere in the interim between ted and surprise.

Flu season was sweeping through Sunnydale with such intensity that Jenny was seriously considering devoting some research time to looking up demonic viruses. Even Willow, who had had perfect attendance throughout the entire first semester, had had to miss a few days of school to get better. Jenny figured that talking Willow down from her “Oh My God How Much Work Did I Miss” panic would be the hardest part of flu season, but when Rupert started coughing uncontrollably in the middle of a faculty meeting, she realized with an unpleasant jolt that she had an extremely difficult challenge ahead of her.

Namely, getting her workaholic of a boyfriend to take care of himself.

“Really, Jenny, don’t fuss,” Rupert was saying irritably as they left the meeting. “I’m sure it’s only a light cough—”

“Xander threw up in class last week,” said Jenny stubbornly, “and he was saying that it was just a cough too. The only reason Buffy hasn’t caught whatever’s going around is because she is a Vampire Slayer—” she determinedly ignored the bemused look thrown in her direction by a passing group of students, “—and you are not that, so you need to take the day off before your cough gets worse.”

“I am not a teenager,” said Rupert. “I have a full-fledged immune system, and Sunnydale depends on my being present to—”

“Exactly!” Jenny persisted. “You need to be present! And you’re not doing anyone any favors if you get struck down with the flu!”

“Well, then, I’d best make use of the time that I can work, hadn’t I?” countered Rupert, grinning triumphantly as though he thought he was making some kind of a valid point.

“You’re completely missing what I’m trying to say,” said Jenny, crossing her arms and fixing him with the Look she gave students who tried to talk their way out of doing homework. It didn’t have the desired effect on Rupert, who gave her a Look right back. “You’re important, Rupert, to—” She stopped, blushing. Maybe it was too soon to go there. “To a lot of people,” she said awkwardly. “Probably.”

Rupert bit his lip, giving her a little sideways grin. God, Jenny missed the days when he didn’t know her well enough to pick up on what she was really saying. “Well,” he said. “Those people have no need to worry, because I can take care of myself just fine,” and he leaned in to kiss her.

“Ugh,” said Jenny, stopping him before he could. “No. Sick person germs.”

“Jenny, really, it was just a cough—”

“Taking no chances!” Jenny stepped back, giving him a thumbs-up. “Take care of yourself! Get better!”

Rupert rolled his eyes, but he was smiling a little as she turned to head to class.

And then, of course, Buffy called Jenny with that thread of panicked irritation in her voice that only ever came up when Rupert was being an idiot. Jenny, who had seen this coming a mile away, resignedly put down the papers she was grading and drove down to Sunnydale High, stopping only to pick up some ibuprofen for said idiot and some chocolate for Buffy.

Buffy appreciated the chocolate. “I deserve, like, so much candy for putting up with this,” she informed Jenny, taking a large bite of the Hershey’s bar. “He probably would have stayed passed out here all night if I hadn’t stopped by to check in, and where would we be then?”

“I am fine,” said Rupert, “if you would all stop fussing—”

“Facedown in the middle of a book is not fine, sweetie,” said Jenny, crossing the room to gently touch his cheek. “And I’m no expert, but it looks like you’re running a fever. You’re coming home with me.”

“Are you propositioning me in front of my Slayer, Ms. Calendar?” quipped Rupert, then sneezed.

“Yes,” said Jenny dryly, patting his shoulder. “That is definitely what I’m doing right now.” To Buffy, she added, “You kids can hold down the fort while I keep an eye on him, right?”

“Pretty much,” said Buffy, shrugging. “We’ll beep you if there’s an issue.” Her face softened slightly as she looked at both of them. “Thanks for doing this,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one he’d listen to.”

“Hardly,” said Jenny, amused. “I told him two days ago that he should take it easy.”

“If you would all stop talking about me as though I’m dead,” Rupert interjected, tried to stand up, and swayed alarmingly.

Buffy moved forward, steadying him. “I can still help you guys get home?” she offered. “I’m not going to be getting sick any time soon—thank you, Slayer mojo,” she grinned, ponytail swishing, “and I’m pretty sure trying to hold Giles up might totally crush you. You’re super tiny.”

“Pot, kettle,” Jenny pointed out, but gave Buffy a grateful smile in return.

“Now hold on,” said Rupert, still leaning heavily on Buffy. “I have not in any way agreed to this.”

“Aww, isn’t he sweet?” Buffy patted Rupert’s arm. “He thinks he has a choice!”

“So cute,” Jenny agreed, leaning in to kiss Rupert on the cheek. “All right, to my car?”

“No,” said Rupert.

“To your car!” Buffy sang out, towing Rupert out of the library. Pleased by her success, Jenny followed.

So it turned out Jenny had been completely off base, calling taking care of Rupert a challenge. Challenge was the word she used to describe troublesome students, or a virus on her computer, or another generally frustrating but inevitably solvable problem. In essence, calling Rupert’s illness a challenge implied that there was a logical way to figure out how to help him, and a good two hours spent trying to convince him to take cold medicine had made it clear that that was very much not the case.

“It’ll make me all loopy, Jenny,” Rupert informed her, completely disregarding the fact that he had said this exact sentence a good five times already. “A Watcher needs to be on high alert, not—not incapacitated by medicines designed to ease one into sleep—”

“Rupert,” said Jenny, who was by this point absolutely exhausted, “take the damn medicine.”

“I am a Watcher,” said Rupert with dignity, “not an invalid, and I shall not waste time being sick!”

“It’s not a waste of time to just let me take care of you!” Jenny snapped, too tired to remember how to be gentle. “Just—god, Rupert, you’re sick, and I care about you, and I want you to get better! And you’re not going to be doing that if you refuse point-blank to do the things that will help you get better!”

Rupert blinked at her, stunned. Then, in one smooth motion, he picked up the cold medicine, poured it into the little plastic cup, and drank it.

Jenny looked at him for a long five seconds, trying to figure out what the hell she had said that had changed his mind. “Okay,” she said, exhausted. “Are we going to have to spend another two hours trying to get you into bed, or—”

Rupert reached out and took her hand, and Jenny realized that he was shaking. “No, you can—you can just—I’ll go to bed, Jenny,” he murmured, squeezing her hand.

“I’ll help you,” said Jenny immediately. “Lean on me.”

“I’m f—” At the look on Jenny’s face, Rupert stopped, then let her help him up without further comment.

As Jenny carefully led him to her bedroom, she found herself wondering if her taking care of him had been as good an idea as she’d thought it was. Granted, she knew he needed someone there, because otherwise he’d have ended up researching until he was legitimately too sick to work, but…was she the kind of someone who was cut out for playing nurse? Their relationship always felt so fragile as it was—more than he realized, even, considering what she was keeping from him—and she felt as though she wasn’t good at being anything but frustrated and tired. Rupert was the gentle, caring one, with his soft touches and sweet kisses. If it had been her sick, Rupert would have been patient, and calm, and so much better at this.

Jenny was brought out of her mini-spiral as they reached her bedroom and then her bed, at which point she gently lowered Rupert down to the best of her abilities. He hadn’t been leaning on her quite as much as Buffy, which made the process a little easier, because Buffy hadn’t been wrong about how much bigger Rupert was than her. “Rest up, okay?” she whispered, then pressed an awkward kiss to his cheek, hoping it might make up for her impassioned outburst.

“Mm. Love you,” Rupert mumbled, eyes already shut.

Jenny felt his words like a jolt to her system. He thinks you’re someone else, her brain was telling her, he’s hopped up on cold medicine, he doesn’t know what he’s saying—but the part of her that knew they could both pretend this didn’t happen in the morning, that part of her let her lean down and whisper, “I love you too. Rest up.”

Jenny woke up all stiff and achy, Rupert’s head pillowed on her lap. She was used to stretching out and sprawling across the bed like a starfish, so lying propped up against the pillows with a weight in her lap (however much-loved that weight might be) wasn’t exactly conducive to a good night’s sleep.

Rupert was awake, and looked almost nervously up at her, as though expecting her to push him away. “Morning,” he said hoarsely.

“You sound awful,” Jenny informed him, unable to keep the tenderness out of her voice. “Do you want some water?”

“Hm,” said Rupert noncommittally, snuggling his cheek into her leg.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Tired,” Rupert mumbled, closing his eyes again.

Jenny sighed, leaning back into the pillows and trying to feel bad about telling Rupert she loved him last night. She didn’t. Most of what she felt right now was tired, coupled with a little warm rush every time Rupert shifted to get more comfortable. She ran her hand through his hair and thought about how maybe she could try and make him tea when he was feeling a little better.

It took Rupert about fifteen minutes to properly wake up, at which point he sat up, leaned against the pillows, and said tiredly, “I don’t want to be a bother, Jenny—you have better things to do than to, to take care of me—”

“Shh,” said Jenny, and kissed his forehead. “How’s your throat? Do you want me to make you some tea?”

Rupert didn’t answer. He leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut, and bumped his forehead against Jenny’s. “Don’t go, will you?” he mumbled. It didn’t sound at all like he was talking about her leaving to go make tea.

“Not ever,” Jenny promised without thinking. Rupert’s eyes snapped up to meet hers—promises were different in the morning, when they were both wide awake—and she blushed, stumbling to qualify her statement. “I mean—not ever as in I’m not ever leaving while—while you’re, um, sick. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Rupert agreed. He had a small, wondrous smile on his face.

Jenny almost wanted to ask if he remembered how, the night before, he’d said love you and she’d said I love you too. She decided against it. Call her a romantic, but she kinda didn’t want such a monumental moment to be while Rupert was sick and she had barely gotten any sleep. “Tea?” she asked.

“Please,” said Rupert, and rubbed his nose against hers.

Jenny smiled, squeezed his shoulder, and clambered awkwardly off the bed, realizing belatedly that neither of them had ever changed out of their work clothes. Sighing, she pulled her sweater off, then stepped out of her skirt, rummaging for a t-shirt and sweats in the bureau. “I think I have chamomile,” she said over her shoulder. “Will that be okay?”

“Quite,” said Rupert, who seemed to be restricting himself to one-word answers.

T-shirt on, Jenny turned, donning the shorts as she gave Rupert a sympathetic smile. “Throat that bad?” she asked.

Rupert made a face.

God, he was cute. How dare he be that cute? “Okay, well, I’ll go try and fix that for you,” said Jenny, and leaned down over him to press a quick kiss to his mouth. “Stay here and I’ll come back in with tea and—are you hungry?” Rupert shook his head. “So just tea for now.”

Jenny wasn’t very good at making people tea. She’d always been more of a coffee girl herself, and when she was sick, she usually just drove out and bought herself some tea from Starbucks or something. It was a trial-and-error kind of process, and the tea came out tasting mostly like hot water, but Rupert’s face lit up when she came in with the mug, which made everything feel worth it.

“Is it doing anything?” she asked, wincing a little at the look on Rupert’s face as he took a sip. “I know I’m not that great at—”

Rupert put the tea down. He reached across the bed and held her hand.

“Oh,” said Jenny, and blushed. “Okay.”

“Terrible tea, Jenny,” said Rupert, but he said it in the same way he’d said that he loved her. “Really quite awful.”

Jenny laughed and moved a little closer to him. “Feeling better?” she asked, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

Rupert hummed, leaning into her hand. “A bit,” he said. “Helps to get some sleep.”

“Are you gonna fight me if I ask you to take some ibuprofen?”

“I don’t think so,” said Rupert softly.

Jenny smiled, a little frustrated, a little in love. “What changed?” she asked.

Rupert hesitated. Then he said, “I don’t think anyone has ever taken care of me when I get sick. Not with—not for a reason outside what they expect of me.”

That statement, coming from one of the best people Jenny knew, made her want to punch a wall. Or a Watcher. Or whatever family member that had instilled such a fucked-up sense of duty in someone so fucking precious. “Well, I do expect you to get better,” she said, trying to laugh.

“Jenny,” said Rupert wryly, like he knew what she was trying to do.

Jenny exhaled, a nervous breath. “I’m not very good at taking care of people,” she said. “But—” and she didn’t know how to finish that sentence without turning this relationship into something really permanent. She stopped herself, and kissed him.

Rupert kissed her back, rubbing his nose against hers when she pulled away. “You’re doing a damn good job, I think,” he informed her.

“You haven’t been taken care of before,” Jenny countered. “I could be doing a terrible job and it’d still be better than nothing.”

“You’re trying,” said Rupert, “and that’s what counts,” and he rolled onto his side, throwing an arm over her stomach. “I,” he said, “am going back to sleep, I think. If the children beep you, tell them that I am ill and that you are my de facto Watcher for the day.”

“Sounds fun,” said Jenny, kissing the top of his head. “Do I get to wear tweed and talk all British?”

“Only if the children get it on video,” said Rupert into her shoulder.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Giles,” said Jenny contentedly, settling back into the pillows. “Let me know if you need anything, okay, babe?”

“Babe,” Rupert repeated, and giggled to himself. Jenny decided to attribute that to sick-person brain.

Buffy and the kids showed up with a care package after school, full of crossword puzzles and British-looking snacks and chicken soup from Buffy’s mom. “Tell him get better soon from us!” said Buffy earnestly, handing the package over. “We’d stay, but, y’know—sick person germs.”

“Gotcha,” said Jenny, grinning. “He’ll be happy you guys stopped by. I’m pretty sure he’s still napping, anyway, so—”

“Nice place, Ms. Calendar!” said Xander with interest, peering over Buffy’s shoulder. “Is that the new Nintendo system?”

“Anyway,” said Jenny. As much as she liked these kids, she was pretty sure Rupert needed actual rest, and having three teenagers loudly playing video games in her living room might make it difficult for her stuffy librarian to get some sleep.

“She’ll let you play on it when Giles gets better,” said Willow wisely, shepherding Buffy and Xander down the stairs. “Thanks for taking care of Giles, Ms. Calendar!”

“Of course she’s gonna take care of him,” Jenny heard Buffy saying, “she li-ikes him—” at which point Jenny shut the door, amused.

Rupert was in that semi-foggy half-asleep state that he’d been in for most of the day, but he did perk up a little when Jenny came in with the care package, which was, frankly one of the most adorable things she had ever seen. “Is that for me?” he said, visibly delighted.

“As a matter of fact, it is,” Jenny answered, sitting down on the bed next to him and opening the package. “Lots of sick person stuff. Plus some chicken soup from Mrs. Summers, if you’re feeling up to eating…?”

“I can manage chicken soup, I think,” said Rupert happily, pressing a slightly off-center kiss to Jenny’s cheek. “This really is very nice, Jenny, thank you very much for doing it—”

Jenny decided that now probably wouldn’t be the right time to remind him that she had spent a good two days fighting him to get him to lie down. “Of course,” she said instead, squeezing his shoulder. “How’s my English patient?”

“A bit better, I think,” said Rupert, then sneezed. “Well. Not all better, but getting there.”

“That’s a good start,” said Jenny, her voice softening. “You work yourself too hard, you know that?”

She was expecting some opposition from Rupert on this point. What she wasn’t expecting was for him to sigh, lean into her, and say quietly, “I know.”

“Then why do it?”

“Who else will?”

“Me,” said Jenny.

Rupert looked slowly up at her, a look in his eyes she had only seen a few times before. The moment after their first kiss, the night when he draped his jacket over her shoulders, and—now. Apparently. “You,” he echoed, as though finding the answer to a question he hadn’t known he had.

I love you too, Jenny thought, and realized that maybe they didn’t need to say it to know it.

[lightsandlostbells]

Skam season 3, episode 5 (2/2)

This reaction covers the Pause, Pride, and Bros clips, which are the emotional equivalent of that time Homer Simpson skateboarded over a gorge.

SEASON 3, EPISODE 5

Clip 4 - Locker room turning point

This scene really is the catalyst for much of what happens in the second half of the season. It’s fantastically acted and superbly written. Julie commented on the script that it was one of the hardest scenes of S3 and I believe it, it’s so complex and runs through so many emotions in just a few minutes. And it’s so fraught. One of Skam’s greatest attributes is the ability to portray vulnerability and this scene is full of it. Everything is so delicate, so much remains unspoken.

Been thinking about how we don’t get these wide establishing shots of a lot of locales, like the gym here, for instance. Like a lot of directors would have more of an establishing shot of the gym, they’d show students running and working out, a teacher calling out instructions, etc. before we cut to Isak. Julie doesn’t always do those. I can think of a number of times she does, showing students hanging around and goofing off outside the school, for example, but a lot of times she just cuts straight to the POV character. Maybe just for practical reasons, but it also makes her storytelling feel very very intimate and character-focused with all these tight closeups.

I wonder if Isak is much into sports - like actually playing them, not sticking to FIFA. We don’t see him doing much of them and whenever he’s at some physical activity, he’s on the sidelines (at the skate park or watching basketball or w/e at the start of episode 3). We see him working out in the birthday video so I guess he started exercising regularly. Gotta keep in shape for his man.

Nice double take when you realize Edward Cullen has been watching you, Isak.

No, but imagine Even just watching Isak mess around in gym class for a bit before Isak notices, maybe psyching himself up to talk to him and tell him the important news. Because this season is so confined to Isak’s POV, on first viewing we see so much of Even’s confident, charming side; it’s only after we know the whole story that we realize how he must have been dealing with his own insecurities.

On that note, let’s talk about what’s going on with Even off screen between the cuddle scene and this locker room scene. He took some days off from school - honestly, I feel like he had a depressive crash. At some point he broke up with Sonja. He didn’t talk to Isak much outside of elusive texts. Can you imagine what he was going through? But no matter how hard it was, he made a decision that Isak was worth everything, worth breaking up this safety net of a relationship with Sonja, worth taking a chance on a new person, worth all the risks, because Isak made him that happy.

In the original script, Even grabbed Isak and kissed him when he entered the locker room. Apparently this was changed due to the setup of the locker room, but Julie made the right call in adapting the scene so that Even didn’t start with a kiss. I think that might have been too self-assured of him, though they could have played it as desperation as well. But this scene works fantastically when we see Even is vulnerable, too, that it’s not just Isak who’s been questioning and wondering while Even leaves him hanging. It’s easy (for me at least) to forgive Even for his strange hot and cold behavior when Even is clearly going through something difficult, even if I didn’t know what that is yet.

It also works better with the careful distance between them at the start of the clip. I don’t think either of them know what’s going to happen. From Isak’s POV, is Even going to call it all off, tell him he’s back with Sonja? Give him more vague answers? From Even’s POV, how pissed is Isak? Is Isak going to want to be all in, now that he’s had a few Evenless days to think about everything?

The sound editing in this scene works wonders. I love that we can hear all the gym sounds (people talking, bouncing balls) from outside, but they’re muffled - like they’re in a semi-public, semi-private space. Technically someone can walk in at any time, but it’s also a locker room, not accessible to everyone. It feels fitting that they’re in this kind of in-between place.

Additionally, you can hear every breath and step and nervous swallow from them here. Skam often uses music so perfectly to enhance its characters’ emotions, but there’s also such a thing as using music too much, as a lazy tactic to make the audience emotional without working for it in the acting, writing, or directing. So here’s a scene with no music. Just sounds from the two characters. No additions. And this is what you get, a scene of raw tenderness.

Soooo much subtext in this scene, so much of Isak and Even not asking everything they want or saying everything they mean. Even when the dialogue seems forthright, there’s another layer behind it. 

My opinion of Even jumped up a lot when he says he’s talked to Sonja and they’re on a break. He should have done that at the beginning, ideally, but the fact that he did make the move to break up with her counts for something. When I saw this I was so damn relieved that it wasn’t going to be a typical case of “dude with a girlfriend has secret male side piece, strings along girlfriend while keeping boyfriend a secret” which is pretty common in LGBT media, especially coming out stories. I respected that Even was honest with Sonja, even if it was late, and it spoke a lot to Even’s sincerity about Isak.

FUCK, I loooove this moment, where everything hangs between them as Even asks Isak what he thinks about him breaking up with Sonja. Not assuming that Isak will be happy about it, not assuming Isak is going to act any specific way, really. Even is really fucking vulnerable when he asks this! Great acting from Henrik. The fact that Even isn’t sure about Isak’s reaction, that you can tell he’s still nervous about what Isak will think and that maybe he’s jumped the gun or expected more than Isak wants, means so much. Even broke up with Sonja even though he wasn’t 100% sure about Isak wanting to be with him. Because Isak was worth it.

And of course, Sonja has a say in this too, she might not want to be with someone who’s cheated on her. But judging from what we do know about her (and you know, kissing Even two days after this) I think she’d be willing to forgive Even and not break up with him over the Isak incident. She might talk herself into thinking it was just a result of Even’s bipolar disorder. So while I’m sure they hashed stuff out between them, I do think it was Even who wanted the break.

I don’t know Norwegian so I wonder if “we have decided to take a break” has the same connotations in English. Because if Even said, “Sonja and I broke up” it sounds like a permanent thing, they are done. “We have decided to take a break” is less permanent thing that leaves wiggle room for getting back together, or at least is putting off the absolute end of the relationship. In that case, I feel like maybe Sonja does think this is a manic thing and is letting Even go off to do his own thing, expecting that he’ll come back to her. EDIT: @skamenglishsubsclarified: Yes, in the original he uses the word "pause", as in "we've decided to take a pause". I'm not sure if it's good English to use "pause" about a relationship, which is why I used "decided to take a break". Either way, yes, it's absolutely not final, they haven't really broken up. Presumably Sonja views this a some sort of manic fling, and Even isn't quite ready to cast off the safety net that Sonja provides.

Man, I really do wish we could somehow get Even’s POV of that conversation with Sonja, though. I would love to hear what they talked about, in detail, what the atmosphere was like - tearful or resigned or angry or all three. When he told her about Isak, what exactly did he say? “I have told Sonja about you” - I don’t know why that gets to me the way it does since it’s fairly straightforward, but I guess I read it as Even not just telling Sonja the bare facts of what’s going on with Isak (we kissed) but elaborating on his feelings for him.

Also, look at Isak’s stunned reaction to what Even is saying! I don’t think he expected it! Maybe he didn’t think Even was about to dump him in the locker room, but was he expecting Even to open with “I told my girlfriend about you and we broke up”? Like … Even chose Isak over Sonja? His girlfriend of four years? Literally the best thing he could have heard. (Flashbacks to Noora and Eskild’s talk in episode 4 - if he loves you, he’ll choose you.) And ohhhh my god, their reactions when Isak seems satisfied that Even and Sonja broke up. The slow, dawning happiness that Isak is trying to keep under wraps and Even can’t control.

Lol, Isak saying that he hopes it’s not his fault if Even is sad is him trying to fish for how Even feels (as indicated in the script by Julie) but it could also be him downplaying the cartwheels his heart is doing now that Even and Sonja broke up. Or it’s also sincere! I think it’s at least partly sincere. He doesn’t want to make Even sad. Isak messes up but he’s a decent kid at heart, he feels guilt over causing hurt to people.

What a beautiful turnaround from Even from being this fragile-seeming kid in a million protective layers to being utterly joyous when Isak seems pleased about the breakup, like Henrik flipped that switch. And what a beautiful understated way to write it, just “I’m not sad!” Not going too far, like “It’s you I want to be with!” Just making it clear that Even has no regrets about the breakup. That he did it because he wants to be with Isak.

That hesitant “Nei?” from Isak is just. Good work, Tarjei.

The kiss feels much better here than it would have at the start of the scene, after we’ve worked through the hesitation to the happiness. The opening uncertainty is so emotionally rich that a kiss at the beginning would soften it.

If you ever want to demonstrate why Tarjei and Henrik have some first-class chemistry, show them this scene. What’s great about their chemistry is that’s it not just good acting at each other, it’s acting with each other. After Even kisses Isak, listen to Isak’s breathing. Watch Even pull off a little nose rub (their thing now) and how Isak responds to it. Their eye contact follows each other. We get the infamous out-of-frame hand-holding and they look down together. Look at their eyes staying on each other, shooting down to each other’s lips. This is just excellent natural chemistry. It sounds incredibly obvious but on-screen chemistry should be about the actors reacting and Tarjei and Henrik are effortless at playing off each other.

Give Tarjei an award for this look he gives Even after the hand-holding. That is an utterly smitten look right there.

And I think Isak gives Even a little nuzzle/nose rub/forehead touch although it’s hard to tell exactly what because we’re focused on Even. Isak feeling braver and being able to initiate kisses or touches with Even is such a lovely thing to witness over the course of the season.

Damn, Even gathers all his courage to ask Isak the next question. What do you think your parents would say if you started dating me? It’s so loaded. First, he’s asking Isak to date him. Not be his side piece or his dirty little secret or his casual hook-up. He wants Isak to be his boyfriend, he wants to make this thing official. He’s all in. But second, it’s also his way of asking Isak important questions about himself. Is Isak out? Is Isak going to be safe if they start to date? Will he be accepted by his family? See, Even knows a little about Isak’s family situation - just a little. He knows that things were rough at home and Isak’s dad left his mom. So he needs to parse out exactly how bad this’ll be for Isak, and whether any of that rough home life had to do with Isak’s sexuality. Knowing what we do about Even in S4, I think it’s really important that he checks in with Isak about this. He’s careful. He’s considerate. He knows that not all parents are going to be OK with it. When Isak says his dad would probably be fine with it, Even isn’t content with just that; he wants to know about his mom, the one pointedly not mentioned.

Isak is so overwhelmed by both of those implications, too, Even wanting to be his boyfriend and having to deal with potentially coming out to his parents.

And here’s where it all goes downhill, not that Isak knows it’s going downhill.

“My mom is insane.” Isaaaaaak. 

That is some damn fine reacting from Henrik, because Even is hyper-attuned to that mention of “insane” and you can feel the mood change immediately, but not so obviously that all the viewers would figure out Even’s deal. Or that Isak would pick up on it.

This scene aired just days before the 2016 US presidential elections, when popular opinion was that HRC had it in the bag, and I remember watching this scene in real time and being like “lol, Trump joke” because fuck that guy, and like a naive asshole I had hope for the future. And then not even a week later the election happened and ohhhhh boy is this part kinda bittersweet now. Emphasis on bitter. But within the context of the scene, it’s a little levity over a very serious topic, with Isak feeling the need to reassure Even that he is not, in fact, related to Donald Trump and Even playing along and laughing before his face kinda falls as they get back to Isak’s mom.

I feel so so so so bad for Even in this scene. He just put everything out on the line for Isak, he was so damn happy just a minute or two ago, things were going to happen between them! And then it comes crashing down in the most painful way possible. And he wants to know, and is trying to get the details about Isak’s mom out of him in a subtle-ish way, that doesn’t let on how fast Even’s heart must be beating and how sick his stomach must feel. The fact that Isak doesn’t talk to his mom is a bad sign. It’s not that they just have a rocky relationship, it’s that they have no relationship.

What gets me about this part is that Isak thinks he is reassuring Even. He is telling Even that his mom won’t get in the way of their relationship. Whatever, she’s crazy and Isak is better off without her. There’s nothing to worry about with her, Even. And instead he’s ripping out Even’s heart.

Also, Isak is trying to reassure himself, that he doesn’t care what his mom thinks. Totally doesn’t care. Nope. It doesn’t hurt that she might not accept him. Not at all. 

“I’ve decided my life is better without mentally ill people around me.” Isak, buddy, you’re going to regret that. 

A lot of viewers picked up that this line was probably the reason Even broke up with Isak a day after making it clear he wanted to be with him. At the time it certainly seemed like a likely possibility. I’ve watched reaction videos to Skam on YouTube and many of them don’t pick up on this line except in retrospect; Julie bundles the turning point with a relevant discussion, openly addressing Isak’s mother’s mental health which has been an underlying source of anxiety throughout the season. It’s not like Isak randomly started making jokes about mentally ill people or anything that felt shoehorned. The digression feels natural, so I think it doesn’t stand out as much as the reason Even mysteriously calls it off until repeat viewings. 

Something to keep in mind that I don’t see people talk about as much is that this scene is coming after the cuddle scene, after Isak told Even about his family problems. In that scene Even listened to Isak talk about how he didn’t want to go home after his dad left his mom (for a then-unexplained reason). Isak didn’t want to go home so much that he went out and got trashed at a bar and got found by someone else (why didn’t he want to go home?). Isak doesn’t want to be at home so much that he moved out (what about his mom?). Even got to witness how much Isak was affected by this incident, got to see Isak open up and be vulnerable about it but try to play it off. And now Even can put the pieces that were missing together. Isak’s dad probably left his mom in part due to her mental illness, Isak probably doesn’t want to go home because of his mom’s mental illness. Because of how this information was doled out to him, Even has been able to witness the toll that mental illness in a loved one has taken on Isak.

And I think that’s part of the reason why Even chooses to cut things off with Isak. It’s both for Even himself and for Isak that he does this. For Even, he realizes that it’s better to cut his losses before things get really serious. Things won’t work out if Isak doesn’t want to be around people like him. It will hurt less now than later. But it’s also for Isak’s sake, because Even doesn’t want to hurt Isak. I mean, Isak is the one who’s (inadvertently) hurt Even here, but Even also sees his bipolar disorder as something that will hurt others, as we know from the minutt for minutt scene. When he sees that mental illness has already caused a lot of hurt for Isak, he doesn’t want to add to that pain. So Even likely would have called off their relationship regardless, but having this extra information probably added to his decision.

And Isak has no idea what he’s just done. He comes across as quite young and innocent asking what Even’s parents would think of him. Like there’s a bit of wanting that approval there, not just because it’s his boyfriend’s parents and clearly he’d rather they like him and not be homophobic assholes, but he’s lacking some parental approval of his own right now, it’s not a stretch to think that maybe he wants the good opinion of some older authority figures.

I really wonder how, if Isak had not run his mouth, their relationship would have progressed. I don’t think you can say it would have definitely worked or not worked out because there are a host of factors to consider, but it’s interesting to think what would have happened if Even hadn’t called it off the next day. How would Isak have come out to his friends in that case? How would Isak have dealt with being outed if he were with Even when it happened? How would Isak have learned about Even having bipolar disorder? For AU purposes, kind of interesting.

This final touch and kiss from Even takes on such a different context when you realize that Even thought this was the last time he would kiss Isak. You can see him memorizing Isak’s face and putting everything into that kiss.

“I think they would have loved you.” Certainly ominous with that past tense, Even. Lmao, I remember watching in real time and being like, “Uhhh, are his parents dead, or is he about to break up with Isak?” But Isak is just too blissed out to think much about the implications. EDIT: @skamenglishsubs had some things to add: “I think they would have loved you" was a very tricky piece of dialogue to translate. Actually, they used the past tense hypothetical throughout the scene. Even asks "What do you think your parents would have said if we got together", and Isak answers "My dad probably wouldn't have had an issue.” And then the whole scene plays out, and Isak asks "What about your parents, what do you think they would have said if we got together?" And Even answers "I think they would have loved you.” The thing is, in English, the past tense hypothetical is pretty definite, it indicates something that hasn't happened or *will not happen*. But this isn't the case in Norwegian, it's more ambiguous, it could mean a regular hypothetical, something that could actually happen. But the original Norwegian script picked that past tense for a reason, and knowing what we know, I think it wanted to plant that little seed of uncertainty there, hinting that Isak and Even actually won't get together. So in the translation, I decided to flip only the last sentence to the past tense hypothetical. It makes it stand out a lot more since there's no subtlety about it in English, so you're almost guaranteed to get a reaction, but I think that's the right choice. It wouldn't be wrong to translate Even's answer as "I think they would love you", but you completely lose the emotional punch of it, and hidden meaning.

But it’s just so sad, because Even’s already made the decision right there, and he knows they would’ve been amazing together. You know he’s probably blaming himself and his mental illness more than being upset with Isak, who I obviously love but is the one in the wrong with his ableist comments. I really, really want to know how Even dealt with everything in the time between leaving the locker room and sending Isak the breakup text. How long his composure lasted after he walked out. How he thought about how he’d call things off, how maybe he waited and put it off because he didn’t really want to end things, he just knew he should.

Isak’s face at the end = awwwwwww. He’s so happy! He has no idea what’s coming.

Clip 5 - Pride

This is one of Skam’s finest moments, IMO, when the show’s educational public service aspirations are in top form. It’s a dramatic moment that works well for Isak’s character development as well as teaching the audience. It could have been overly preachy since Eskild basically delivers a lecture, but it’s so well-written and acted that it works.

But first, let’s talk about the opening of Isak lying on his bed, thinking about Even.

This little moment is one of the sweetest things on the show. Isak - who has presented a typical teenage boy front for a large part of the season, and has kept his sensitive side largely confined to his bedroom - thoroughly indulges in some sappy dreaming about Even. Like, forget him watching the Mikael video and smiling to himself, or watching Romeo + Juliet and shedding a single tear. This is straight-up mush. He fucking clutches his phone to his chest! His phone that is his gateway to Even, you know he’s thinking about calling or texting because, holy shit, Even is his boyfriend now. The slight smile on Isak’s face because he is just that over the moon. Even chose him! Even wants to be with him! Isak can be happy! And Isak has to know that his life is going to change, he’s going to have to do something about the tension with the boy squad, he probably can’t avoid Emma forever, who knows what his parents will think about him dating a boy - holy shit Isak will have to come out of the closet - but for this moment, that’s all somewhere in the future. Right now, he’s just going to be happy. Isak has a boyfriend. (And not just any boyfriend, but the man of his dreams.)

The sly sideways glance that Isak gives his pillow is the funniest shit ever. He’s alone in his bedroom, like, kid, you can huff your Even-scented pillow as much as you want. But it’s like he’s communicating with the damn thing. Hey, pillow. You and me. Cuddle time. Let’s do this.

I hope everyone has read the famous pillow meta. The thing about this scene is that Isak canonically has emotions about the pillow Even used, which makes me think it’s plausible that Julie really did put that much thought into Isak’s pillows.

For real, I gently mock Isak here but my heart melts at this part. It’s just so genuine! There’s no facade with Isak, he’s just letting his guard down, thinking of Even and the time they spent lying together on this bed. If you think back to Isak changing his answers on the gay test to get “less gay” results, or even just look at that female swimsuit model poster above his head, you know Isak sometimes keeps up a lie even in private. Here he’s being honest with himself and sentimental. You know he wishes Even were there right now, which is of course why he writes a text message asking Even to hang out.

Also, a little thing, but Isak seems fairly confident about that text, he doesn’t overthink what he’s writing like he did in the opening ep4 clip (with Noora talking and Isak rewriting his text) which to me is more confirmation of how good a mood Isak is in, and how he thinks this thing with Even is in a solid place.

Eskild’s intro in this scene, popping in the doorway with that mischievous expression, always makes me laugh.

Have I talked about Eskild much? Because I fucking love Eskild. Like, adore him. He makes a lot of sense to me in that his flaws and his virtues come from the same place, which is a strong way to write a character. I think some writers value the importance of giving their characters both positive and negative traits, but don’t realize that they’re often two sides of the same coin rather than completely separate attributes. With Eskild, he can be overly meddlesome, occasionally insensitive in what he says, lack boundaries or personal space, but that comes from the same place as his kindness, sympathy, and helpfulness - he’s highly extroverted and invested in people and wants to take care of them. A lot.

Also, what a fantastic relationship is Isak and Eskild’s, a combination of big bro/little bro and of course guru/apprentice. We so often get the “gay friend who has no life other than to give advice to the straight protagonist” and this is like that trope redone in a more meaningful way (plus, we have the flipped version of that trope in S3 with Jonas and the boy squad being the straight friends who give advice to their gay friend). But it is really great that Isak has this type of relationship with another gay man - one that’s completely platonic but also with so much caring behind it, and with a gay guy who’s very different from him in a lot of ways but is a positive force in his life. And opinions may vary on how well this part is handled, but I also think it’s great that Eskild’s clearly got a sex life and hooks up with dudes on Grindr and this isn’t shown as shameful or judged negatively, other than the occasional “ugh Eskild keep it down, the walls in this apartment are thin.” I mean Isak and Even are this lovey-dovey monogamous couple and that’s wonderful, but it’s also OK to have casual sex! I have some bones to pick with Eskild’s depiction in S4 but in S3, he’s fantastic.

Eskild goes about broaching the subject of Even in a pretty clever, almost parental way by giving Isak a gift and using that as an opening to mention that Even guy Isak had over. Maybe not that subtle but it certainly did get Isak to open up. It’s so thoughtful that Eskild doesn’t specifically push Isak to talk about Even and like, ask him if they’re dating or hooking up, anything like that. He’s clearly prompting him and letting him know that Isak can talk about it if he wants, but giving Isak control over how much he wants to divulge (if anything). He’s even getting up to leave just as Isak decides that yes, he will go ahead and tell Eskild, so it’s not like Eskild was going to sit there and grill Isak until he confessed. Eskild can go OTT nosy for laughs sometimes (”there are shoes in the hallway, Isak, is Even in your bedroom????”) but he knows when to give space. Carl Martin plays this part really well because you can see the question mark at the end of the suggestion about “that Even guy.”

Tarjei does a nice job too, you can see his good mood and how he’s reacting happily to Eskild gently ribbing him about his bedroom odor instead of giving more of Isak’s bratty side, and how when Eskild mentions Even he dims a little. Because oh yeah. This is how it’s going to be. He’ll have to tell people about him and Even eventually. But he must realize that Eskild is probably the best person he knows to come out to, because Eskild is not going to judge him for this. Eskild is gay, like Isak, even if Isak doesn’t want to use that word yet. Eskild is a good trial run for everybody else - good practice for just saying the words. And Eskild is clearly making some sort of offering here and letting him know, without saying it, that Isak is free to talk to him about Even.

Eskild is smiling when Isak tells him about Even, and you know it’s not in a smug “yessss, I knew it!” sort of way. It’s pride that Isak has finally confided in him and is gradually creeping out of his closet and having boys over. He handles this part perfectly. He’s not pressuring Isak to give him all the details, he’s not asking how Isak defines his sexuality or anything. It makes you wonder whether Eskild had an Eskild of his own when he came out, and how much of his treatment of Isak is inspired by how people reacted, for better or worse. What he wished they’d said and done, what he wished they hadn’t.

I think what installs some insecurity in Isak here - or I guess what makes that existing insecurity rise out of Isak and makes him say some unfortunate things - is both that disclosing his thing with Even is a big step that’s scary in itself, but also that Eskild obviously knew what was going on with Isak. He knew something was up with Isak and Even, he set up this moment with the room freshener to bring up the topic. He’s known since he found Isak drunk at a gay bar. And honestly, I think that makes Isak a little defensive, because shit, people knew. I mean, it’s Eskild, another gay man, but someone can tell he likes boys even without Isak telling them, and that probably makes Isak panic a bit. He struggles with the generalizations and the ideas of what it means to be gay. He takes a gay test and he makes a point of calling out a guy who seems “too gay” and I think a lot of it is fear that he will be perceptibly gay to outsiders. Watch how Isak dims a little and gets more serious after he tells Eskild. You’re not surprised? he asks. He’s not totally OK that Eskild is not surprised. He denies that he knew he was at a gay bar. He’s a little rattled by Eskild not feigning surprise and more or less admitting he’s known since he met Isak.

The thing is, Eskild doesn’t assume Isak is gay based on his taste in pop culture or his mannerisms or his grooming habits or anything like was suggested in the gay test - he’s thinking it based on, you know, finding Isak in a gay bar and Isak having a strange boy stay overnight. It’s all based on actions, not inherent qualities. But I don’t think Isak is considering that, really - he’s still deep in internalized homophobia and how people will view him as a person if they know he’s gay.

On that note, let’s talk about how Isak approaches his coming out. Throughout the season, Isak frames his coming out in terms of what (or who) he does rather than who he is. Actions, not inherent characteristics. He's hooking up with Even. He likes someone and it’s not a girl. He has a boyfriend. Never “I’m gay.” We don’t see that until S4. And it makes sense because it’s likely easier for Isak to approach this by not defining himself as a person, but describing his actions, which will perhaps create less judgment. I mean, there’s a difference between saying “I’m a bad person” and “I did a bad thing,” for another example. He doesn’t want that label of gay because he has a specific idea of what gay means and he doesn’t want it to apply to him. He’s not ready for it.

Again, Eskild is really great when Isak says hooking up with Even doesn’t mean he’s gay. He doesn’t argue or laugh at him or be like pfffft, you’re definitely gay, baby Jesus. He’s just happy for Isak, which is why it stings when Isak decides to run his mouth by saying he’s not gay-gay “like you.” Ouch. Isak, for fuck’s sake. Why did you have to go and make it personal? JFC. Carl Martin plays Eskild’s hurt so well, you can see how much this is cutting into some deep wounds.

Again, we don’t know much about Eskild’s backstory, unfortunately, but you know this is all shit he’s heard before in various capacities, and it just sucks to hear it from someone you care about. To get told to your face by someone rushing to assert himself that he’s not like you. Because it doesn’t matter that Isak’s attempting to frame his comment as not being offensive, the thing is that he doesn’t want to be thought of like Eskild.

“I totally respect that you take the whole ‘gay package’ all the way, but I’m not like that.” You know, it didn’t really occur to me until now that when Isak says “gay package” he’s not just describing a set of stereotypically flamboyant characteristics. Like … to a degree he thinks there is an actual “gay package” that comes with a set of interests and mannerisms (gay test, dance instructor, etc.) To be gay you must be X and Y. Isak is not X and Y, therefore he is not gay. That’s why he’s separating himself from the label. Even’s comments about generalizing may have struck a chord with Isak but it’s not like they completely eradicated his internalized homophobia. 

This scene just gets more painful as it goes on because Isak is aware that he’s putting his foot in his mouth, but he also just thinks his point is justified, and he doesn’t get the root of what’s offensive about it. He’s trying to act like he doesn’t have a problem with people being too gay, but he does - not so much on a personal judgmental level but mainly as how those Gay-Gays will reflect on himself. And Eskild is so clearly hurt but he’s still being patient with Isak, up until a point.

Also it’s painful because obviously Isak is in the wrong here, but it’s understandable why he says what he says. His insecurities are being laid so bare. Isak’s internalized homophobia really doesn’t have much to do with thinking he’s wrong for liking boys, thinking he’s dirty or broken or anything like that. It’s mainly to do with social perceptions, how people are going to see him or judge him for liking boys, how can Isak identify as gay if he doesn’t feel like he fits the label?

I think a lesser show would address this issue by validating Isak’s insecurities or mollifying them in a surface way like, IDK, having Eskild explain to Isak that just being he likes a boy doesn’t mean Isak has to behave in a certain way, being gay doesn’t mean you have to act like this or dress like that. Which of course is true, but that’s not the root of the problem here, which is that Isak’s thinking itself is flawed and offensive. Giving an answer like “You don’t have to behave a certain way if you’re gay” is like getting a hole in your shirt and holding it together with a safety pin, rather than patching it up. 

I don’t blame Eskild at all for getting upset and having to walk out on Isak. He was being quite patient with him until he reached a breaking point, and this is obviously personal. Again, we don’t know Eskild’s backstory, but I would be willing to bet that he has experienced some of that harassment and hate firsthand. His delivery of his pride monologue is emotional but also measured. You know he is genuinely trying to bestow a lesson on Isak despite being upset. Maybe it’s a lesson that took Eskild some time to internalize himself.

Isak knows he messed up, and he feels shame over it. I think it’s good, though, that Eskild says yeah, you did mean to put yourself above it, because no matter how many times Isak was like “I have no problem with you taking the gay package all the way” or asserting that he’s not being negative, he really was.

Well, Isak, your first coming out to anyone would have gone pretty awesome if you had stopped talking at a certain point. Like this is far from the most disastrous it could have been, but I doubt Isak expected to get schooled. He’s not feeling so great, and then he gets the text that pours a truckload of salt in the wound.

This text from Even. Man. First of all, love that Julie shows the text, has Isak put the phone down, then look at it again, showing us the text once more, just to get across how much utter disbelief he is in. Fucking really? After what happened in the locker room, now Even wants to call it off? There are some excellent uses of timing and display of the text messages of Skam; it’s not just that they’re present, it’s that they’re edited into the show for maximum impact. (Another great use of timing with a text message is in episode 9 when Isak gets the text from his mother.)

As for the text itself, I want to mention how polite it is? It’s very carefully worded, you know Even was writing and rewriting this one a million times. Also, Even takes responsibility for the breakup and blames himself and apologizes. Like … as far as breakup texts go, this is about the nicest it could be.

In the script there was more from Even about “not meaning to give (Isak) false hope” and I’m glad they took it out because yeah, that is not really Even’s goal with this text, IMO. I think he’s trying not to hurt Isak as best as he can given the situation. Julie says they discussed in the editing room whether that extra line was too cold, and I think it would have been.

I don’t know how popular this opinion is, but knowing the full story of what’s happening with Even, I don’t think he actually did anything wrong in breaking up with Isak at this point. Isak didn’t leave him with any good options, honestly. Of course I feel awful for Isak, and we’re in his POV so it feels like we just got dumped too, we’re confused and hurt, but let’s look at this from Even’s POV. What are his options?

Stay with Isak while concealing his mental illness. This is what he eventually does, obviously, and it backfires in very drastic way. Hiding his bipolar disorder is going to be immensely stressful for Even, not to mention Even does not want to hurt Isak, which he thinks he will do eventually due to being mentally ill. We know that it’s not that cut-and-dry but Even has a lot of insecurities and a kind heart, and doesn’t want to cause anyone harm.

Tell Isak the truth. This is the ideal choice, perhaps, but can you blame Even for not doing so? He doesn’t want Isak to hate him and Isak has just made his thoughts on mentally ill people quite clear. Additionally, we know that Even was the subject of gossip and called crazy after the manic episode at Elvebakken, an incident that is still being discussed in gossip (as we know from Vilde’s later texts). Who’s to say Isak wouldn’t have told someone, prompting the rumor mill at Nissen, making Even the target of gossip at his new school as well as his old one? I mean I think Isak is better than that, but if you think about it, this is still early in their relationship, Even might like Isak but he can’t be sure that word of crazy-psycho Even will get out. I completely understand why Even would fear telling people. 

Cut his losses, break it off with Isak for both their sakes. It will be painful for both of them, but Even probably thinks better now than later, when they’re deeper into a relationship and their feelings.

Clip 6 - Everything comes crashing down

Julie really punches Isak in the balls here, huh? Between this clip and the last, she removes all of Isak’s strongest support systems and makes all of his insecurities and the mounting problems explode. Last clip created a wound between Isak and Eskild and mysteriously ended the Isak/Even relationship just as it was finally getting off the ground. So how can we kick Isak when he’s down today?

This pre-drink happens at Magnus’ place according to the texts, by the way. No sign of his ❤️ mamma ❤️

David made up this wild story about Magnus’ sexcapades and I hope it’s not one of the ones that came from real life, lmao. Also apparently everyone was tired filming this scene because it was very early in the morning until they chugged some Red Bull and it came to life.

Isak just looks broken, man. The way he’s sitting there totally disengaged from this conversation and just drinking. He’s just so heartbroken and he doesn’t understand why Even did what he did. Clearly there had to be something else going on besides his random kinda vague text message.

In the script Julie had Isak reading over his text history with Even, probably searching for some clue as to why things have ended the way they did. (Julie said she didn’t know why this part was cut and maybe they just forgot to film it.) So he was extra checked out, the boys were talking and Isak was not paying attention.

He’s so palpably miserable that it’s kind of hard to buy that none of the other boys notice. I know teenage boys are not supposed to be the most emotionally perceptive, but like … these boys are, sort of! Or at least Jonas is; Jonas has picked up when Isak is having mom problems and he later picks up (in a scene that’s a callback to this one) that Isak is having Even problems without Isak vocalizing any of this. But I think at this point, Jonas is kind of done with Isak’s BS, the boys are still frosty with him because of the “family party” and missing Magnus’ birthday, so they’re just going to let Isak stew even if he seems upset. Which sounds harsh but … I’ve been there, on both sides of it. And Isak has been lying repeatedly, so it’s like, what’s the point? It’s not like he’s going to tell them the truth.

When Magnus was telling the boys about his Vilde S&M dream, Isak and Jonas were on the same page despite arguing just a minute previously, they were looking to each other and laughing over Magnus’ ridiculousness. Here Jonas isn’t trying for that connection with Isak. Not that Isak would reciprocate if he did.

I don’t know why it’s so funny to me that Magnus logic is like “I couldn’t bang this girl in the bathroom because there was no toilet lid” like ??????? Son, can you think of no other ways to proceed with sexual activity? As Mahdi mentions, there are other positions you can do.

I mean this story is 100% fake anyway, so.

I love that completely over-it look Isak gives Magnus when Mags starts talking about escaping through the window. Though you know, Isak and Magnus aren’t all that different in this regard, since Isak also has told his friends fake stories of sexual conquest. It’s just that Magnus goes into excessive TMI detail and Isak keeps his vague enough so that the boys can infer whatever they want from Isak’s tales of straight sex.

But also, Isak is done with this shit because of how Magnus can tell some ridiculous made-up story about hooking up with a girl so easily among friends, and this is all part of straight boy culture or whatever you want to call it - bonding over hetereosexual shenanigans- when Isak is left out of this by not being able to talk about his own romantic adventures. Magnus’ story is bullshit, Isak has a real story about sneaking into someone’s house to use their pool and kissing underwater. But he can’t share it at this time because it was a boy he was kissing. He’s just excluded from his friends again.

Magnus’ laugh is fucking glorious. It’s like a honk.

Nice little moment of Jonas being all “I put on a nice shirt for this” and Mahdi being all “you look good, bro.” Casually supportive bros are the best bros, bro.

Poor Isak. When he hears Emma’s name you can see he’s like, just what I fucking needed right now. And of course his friends start paying attention to him when they think he might be able to get them into this party. He looks so drained at all of this. Either he’s going to be excluded from his friends again or he’s got to endure a party hosted by the girl who hates him.

The subtitles say that Magnus says, “There’s just three of us” and I don’t know if there are any translation differences but like … there are four of you in the room, Magnus. Isak just might as well not be there. He’s as lively as the chair he’s sitting on. (Unless Magnus means “there are three of us” as in “there are three more people besides me” but I can’t tell). EDIT: from @skamenglishsubs: Magnus is just lying, because the larger the group, the less chance they have of getting into the party according to teenage logic

Not that I would have a lot of patience for Isak at this point either, from their POV, but ouch at Mahdi being all “Well, Isak can go to his ‘family dinner’ and the three of us can go to the party.” Mahdi really isn’t hiding that he knows Isak has telling them bullshit. Plus, Magnus being all “I forgive you for forgetting my birthday” is acknowledging that there was something to forgive in the first place, a reminder of Isak fucking up with his friends.

It’s not The Worst Thing Ever buuuuut there is something a bit messed up about how the boys pressure Isak into taking them to this party when he clearly doesn’t want to go. Also with them pressuring him to do the Emma pre-drink. I love the boy squad but you kind of get why, even apart from casually homophobic comments, Isak felt the need to perform with them. Even when he’s trying to say no, they’re goading him into it. They’re not bad people at all but the pressure to participate in all these social activities where the pursuit of girls is a primary objective is really strong.

Lol, I think Mahdi and Magnus just like to rap together, that’s a thing between them, as also seen in the clip where Isak comes out to them.

I have an idea that Emma threw a party as a way to get her mind off that guy who led her on and ditched her and turned out to be gay.

Not gonna lie, as an English speaker it’s pretty jarring to have a song with the N-word so prominently in this context, though I don’t know if it’s as startling for Norwegians. 

I do find this a really memorable Skam walking scene, though. I looove the shots of the boys walking down the street, Isak trailing behind the other three, disconnected from the group.

Shout out to Jonas and Mahdi dancing in the streets, though. My boys!

Well, at least Isak wasn’t the only one who had a shit time at the party, judging by the girl who walks out without her shoes and flips off the one dude. 

L m a o  I fucking love how many people have noticed that this dude acting like a bouncer at Emma’s looks like such a piece of shit, like he time-traveled from the set of an ‘80s teen movie where he’s playing some evil preppie named Chad or Blaine from the rival rich kid summer camp who’s trying to turn the camp for the scrappy underdog heroes into a golf course. I mean this was some shockingly effective casting for a guy who’s on screen for a minute. 

Bless Mahdi for calling out that guy for acting like a self-appointed doorman.

Why was Vilde hanging out with Blad, anyway? No wonder she’s happy to see Magnus, he’s at least entertaining compared to these insufferable bores.

You can see Even winding his way through the crowd, by the way, before Isak sees him.

Oh my God, Isak being so out of it and then waking up when he sees Even breaks my heart. You can see his heart jump-start. And then he just has to get into this party. He needs to talk to Even, figure out what went wrong.

Shout out to the bro nod Isak exchanges with Sana on his quest for Even.

If Isak managed to make it to Even without Sonja reappearing, how do you think the exchange would have gone? Fraught, for sure. I feel like we don’t see a lot of confrontation between Isak and Even in canon to know how it would’ve gone, like I think Even would’ve been pretty shook and trying to hide that he was hurting but I’m not sure how it would’ve gone with Isak. I don’t think he’d be as downcast or muted as the cafeteria encounter later - this is a fresh wound and Isak is really confused. I doubt he would’ve been angry and started yelling or confronting Even directly in public, but I think he would’ve tried to be more forceful and upset. And I’m not sure how Even would’ve explained himself; it’s one thing to write a text message that you can word carefully and edit before you send, it’s another to see the boy you’re basically in love with a day after you broke up with him, wanting to know what went wrong. Like Even is smooth but maybe not that smooth. How is he going to tell Isak to his face that he doesn’t want to be with him?

Actually, think about how awkward it would’ve been if Isak and Even were talking and then Sonja showed up.

Even’s up on some kind of platform/elevation with just that one guy, and I kind of wonder if he went up there by himself to get some breathing room or get a minute to think until a guy he knows from class or whoever he is came up and decided to chat. I think Even is really, really good at concealing when he’s hurting or struggling.

Case in point, Even looks really good in this scene. Peak hair, peak attire, seeming happy and healthy. Isak can’t even sit there with his friends without his misery pouring out of him, written all over his face, but Even is apparently doing totally fine a day after breaking up with Isak, and that really has to sting for Isak. Not even just that Even broke up with him, but that he’s not visibly suffering over it.

Tbh, I wondered why Even was at this party considering Emma cannot be a big fan of him right now. IDK, I guess maybe he showed up with some people he knows from class? Or Sonja invited him? Maybe some of it depends on what you think Sonja told Emma about Isak and Even. I doubt Sonja told Emma about Even’s MI but maybe she told Emma something like “Even was confused” and implied she would get back with him. So Emma maybe wanted to help out her cool older friend Sonja by putting Sonja and Even at the same place so they could reunite? 

Isak certainly could have apologized to Emma sooner and in a better situation, but it’s nice that he does at least acknowledge he was being shitty and apologizes to her here, even with the little effect it has.

Isak is so stressed over running into Emma, Tarjei does this reaction well. And on man, the way Isak’s face changes when Emma says he’s gay. What a nightmare for him. She knows. He’s too shocked to argue or respond in any way.

“It’s 2016, Isak. Get out of the closet!” lol the moment when a lot of us lost a lot of sympathy for Emma

For what it’s worth, I think this is clearly not an author-endorsed statement considering Emma is pointedly shown to have some ignorant viewpoints about gay people. Plus, the previous clip contained a passionate call for respect of gay pride with acknowledgment of what LGBT people go through (harassment, violence, death) so I think it’s obvious that the show knows it’s difficult to come out even in 2016.

Though this is just making me think of Emma being all “Eskild is hilarious, gay people are so funny” and what his response might be if she said, “it’s 2016, get out of the closet” in front of him. I doubt it would be hilarious.

I don’t think Emma is a terrible person. She’s just very, very uninformed and is unaware of her straight privilege.  And while I am sympathetic to her in being led on by Isak, not gonna lie, it’s harder for me to feel sympathy when she has the least stakes out of this love quadrangle? Sonja is losing her boyfriend of several years, who has cheated on her and suddenly left her for someone else. Even is dealing with how his mental illness affects his relationships with Sonja and Isak. Isak is dealing with internal and external homophobia. Emma … made out with a dude twice at parties and he turned out to be gay. It is shitty of him to lead her on but he also was not in any official relationship with her and they didn’t know each other that well. Like. She will get over it.

“Hold My Liquor” was supposed to start playing here, after Emma tells Isak he’s gay, according to the script. I think it’s a good choice to keep the random party music and only start with Kanye toward the very end, when everything has gone to shit. We needed that iconic BITCH I’M BACK OUT MY COMA when Isak is beating up bushes.

Goddamn, Isak looks up at just the worst moment, doesn’t he? You wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t run out of the party, if Even and Sonja kept kissing or Even pulls away or what.

There were SO many theories about what exactly happened with Even, Sonja, and the random blond dude! Straightforward theories that Even was lying about breaking up with Sonja all along. Theories that Even needed to pretend to be in a relationship with Sonja for some reason, like to protect himself against homophobia. Theories that the guy was hitting on Even and Sonja showed up to lay a smooch on Even because she was helping him to deter this random guy. And it’s kind of interesting because we never really get a clear-cut answer as to what happened. I think it’s easy enough to guess from later context, but it’s not like Even ever goes, “Well, actually, Isak, when Sonja kissed me it was because she is an alien from a galaxy far far away where she needs lip-to-lip contact to collect nutrients from human beings.” There is a lot of wiggle room as to what was happening on Even’s side of S3 between the break-up text and the Evak reunion in episode 7.

Because we don’t have clear-cut answers, I guess I’ll do some projection. I like Sonja but I think she didn’t quite buy into Even leaving her at this point, probably because she does chalk up his interest in Isak to Even’s mental illness, or out of denial at her own relationship ending. So when she runs into Even here, she goes in for the kiss because they’re Sonja and Even, that’s what they do, they’re a couple. They were on a break but that’s it, just a break, not permanent. Sonja is the one to initiate the kiss and she seems pretty confident about it. And Even, I think, just goes along because he’s upset over Isak, and because Sonja is comforting, he can depend on their relationship. To me he seems a little resigned, happy to see her (because she is an important person in his life) but not overly enthusiastic to kiss her.

We never get answers as to whether Even and Sonja officially got back together for a time after this, or if this was a one-off kiss, or something in between. Personally I lean toward Even and Sonja not really getting back together all the way or if so, it being fleeting and ending well before Even shows up at Isak’s door in episode 7. Just because I think it makes more sense that Even is not with Sonja at that point.

This Magnus/Vilde scene was improv by the actors according to the script. Vilde didn’t see anyone she wanted to hook up with, and I mean, if her choices were ‘80s teen movie villains I completely understand. Plus Eva is occupied with P-Chris.

Mahdi, you played the “family dinner” joke one too many times, and you happened to catch Isak at a very bad place. One of the boys laughs at the family dinner comment and I think it’s Jonas? Which would suck for Isak since Jonas is usually Team Isak. They’re all just united against Isak’s crap. But Jonas here realizes again that something is really wrong with Isak, it has to be more than just moodiness and snottiness.

I have Opinions on how people bring up this incident in relationship to Isak hitting Mikael in S4 and how it’s not really the same thing, and this scene doesn’t make the one in S4 feel more IC, but maybe I should save those for S4 recaps.

BITCH I’M BACK OUT MY COMA

Let’s recap. Isak inadvertently insulted Eskild, hurting his feelings, and got scolded by him. Emma knows he is gay. The boys are shutting him out and Isak just made things worse by shoving Mahdi. And Even broke up with him and is back to kissing Sonja.  It’s all adding up to break Isak, though I do think the situation with Even is what’s causing him the worst pain, because in a way his feelings for Even have been the catalyst for everything else that’s gone wrong and now he doesn’t even have Even. And he can’t talk to anyone about this because he’s either not out to people, or the few people who know he is gay are mad at him or smooching their not-so-ex girlfriends.

This scene of Isak lashing out at bushes could have been overly melodramatic and unintentionally comedic, but Julie knows to keep the editing short and not go over the top. It helps that we see only the back of Isak because that’s really all we need, right? I’m sure Tarjei would knock it out of the park with his facial expressions but we don’t need to see them, Isak’s state of mind is communicated by him lashing out, and the ending cry of frustration and sobs as he falls to his knees. I think shooting him from the back kept it from going too OTT.

And we go silent for the credits just to end on a bleak note. And then we went silent for 10 days.

I mean, except for analyzing moles and areolae. 

General Comments

To elaborate on the mole/areolae analysis, I hope everyone has seen the hiatus trailer that aired after this episode. Because oh my God, that hiatus trailer. People were going WILD with the theories. Numerous screencaps were taken and compared to note similarities in nipples and moles among characters. The consensus was that the trailer is definitely two people fucking, but who could it be???? Isak and Even? That totally looked like a girl boob, was that Even and Sonja? Or were Isak and Emma going to hook up? Was it not a girl and Isak going to sleep with another guy? Some rando from Grindr? Eskild? Jonas? Penetrator Chris??? If these ideas seem outlandish, I am telling you the truth, these were all real theories floated about.

And then lol, it turned out to be Isak and Even. Surprise. It’s footage from the end of episode 7.

(I’m just going to throw it out there, not all of the footage from the hiatus trailer made it into the final clip, so somewhere Julie has extra footage of the first Isak/Even sex scene. You’re welcome.)

On the social media front, we see pics of Magnus’ birthday party on Jonas’ IG and Magnus apparently was in some proximity to Vilde.

When Isak texts Even post-cuddle scene, Even texts him back at 21:21, so you know he’s a sappy fucker, but it took him several hours to text back and he dodges any real explanation of what’s up with him (I was at my aunt’s house, swimming! JK btw you’re hot).

Though “You look hot when you’re sleeping” is some Grade-A thirst, yowza.

Also the boys were texting Isak about Magnus’ party but he ignored them. Too loved up in Even’s arms. Then days later (after the “family meeting clip”) he’s like “WHOOPS didn’t see this, I didn’t have 3G.” Jonas doesn’t anything to respond except a thumbs up emoji. Because Isak being all “let’s do it again this weekend” is some BS when he’s probably just going to ditch them again.

We get a Kollektivet text mentioning PK, the caretaker, who apparently Eskild and Linn have a weird relationship with. Tell me more about this, kollektivet family! Who is this mysterious PK? There was an IG story of him with Isak, I believe. EDIT: @skamenglishsubs sent me some links to the PK-and-Isak content. Thank you!

And Eskild drops in a casual “You could’ve met (PK) on Saturday if you didn’t stay in your room all weekend.” HmmmmMMM.

An underrated text: Magnus roasting Jonas about being an anti-capitalist hipster. 

There’s a little foreshadowing of sorts in that text: Magnus says his ❤️ mamma ❤️ will find him a job for OD. Tiny thing but it is establishing that Magnus thinks his mother is the best.