#//especially since i can tell what the meaning was
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*𝑩𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔*
Pairing: Bangchan x Reader (Fem)
Genre: Fluffy Smut
Warnings: Daddy!Chan, Face sitting, Oral (F), Slight choking, Slight ass/pussy slap, Creampie, Unprotected sex. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings!
A/N: made this for my beloved’s birthday today! Love yooou and hope you’re having a great day! @hyunjins-orange-slice-too
-🌸
Today was your birthday, you had the whole weekend off for it! Chan had taken the same time off so he could spend it with you. He had let you sleep in this morning waking you up with your favorite breakfast in bed. He curled up in bed with you watching your favorite movie as you both ate.
He had a whole day planned for the two of you. Talking you to your favorite restaurant, then to the arcade you like, and ending it with a fort in the living room. He had picked out cute matching outfits for the both of you. Giving you your present along with it. A little necklace with a heart, the back of the heart had his handwriting on it. Etched into it was yours and his initials that said “to the moon and back”.
God he really was trying to make you cry. He ways looked at you with such love but today he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Telling you “today’s the day the love of my life was born”.
He showered you with so much love today, as he always did anyways just up a notch. Holding you close as you walked through some shops before dinner. He saw your eye light up at a cute little stuffie but not saying anything. “You want it princess?” He asked sweetly.
“It’s okay daddy, you’re already doing so much for me today.” You’d say smiling up at him. But you knew he wasn’t having it.
“Pick the color and I’m getting it” he said.
It was never a use of arguing with him, anything you could ever want that man was happy to provide for you.
Stuffie in hand, you headed to the restaurant having your favorite meal. He told you over and over how much he loved you. “My beautiful angel, I don’t know how I got so lucky to have such an amazing person as mine. I love you so much. You’re like the stars in my sky, always shining so brightly. So pretty”.
After eating your headed to the arcade. Where Chan single handedly won everything you wanted. He was really good at claw games and even if he wasn’t he wasn’t gonna not get it for you. You left the arcade with 7 additional stuffies amongst other things he had won.
He had the fort built so fast too, since it was something he loved doing with you. He had everything under the fort. Snacks, drinks and a small cake of course your favorite flavor. You always wondered how he’d remembered everything. “Before we get in I think we are missing something” he said with a sweet smile. He pulled out a box with matching PJs, the backs saying daddy and daddy’s princess on them. Something you had saved in your Amazon.
You both got all dressed, devouring the cake as you watched a movie. Chan had you lying on his chest rubbing your back. “Happy birthday princess, I love you so so much” he purred.
“Thank you daddy, it was the best” you said smiling up at him.
“You get everything you wanted?” He asked
“Mostly” you said with a little grin.
“Oh yeah? What is it missing?” He asked cocking his head to the side.
“I didn’t get you” you said with a little giggle.
“Hmm. But you got me Princess”
“That’s not what I mean” you pouted.
“Use your big girl words then, tell daddy exactly what you want.” He cood.
“I want you. Want- want you to- ugh” you sighed “I want you to fuck me” you said softly.
“That’s what my baby wants?” He said a smirk growing on his face.
“Please daddy” you said puppy eyes at max.
“How can I tell my pretty girl no? Especially on her birthday.” He said pulling you to him kissing you ever so lovingly.
He pulled your body on top of his, cradling you in his arms. His hands slowly made their way up and down your body pulling you deeper into the kiss. His pretty hands gripped at your ass before pushing his hips up into you. Both of you groaning into the kiss. “Princess tell me exactly what you want”
“I want you, want daddy to- to take care of me” you said with puppy eyes. He grinned before moving his body underneath of you. He kissed down your body pulling your PJ bottoms. He let out a low groan seeing how wet your panties were. He licked a long strip up them making you moan softly. He pulled down your panties slowly before kissing your thighs. He peppered them with little kisses and nibbles before his arms gripped your thighs.
He slowly licked up your folds his hands pulling your cunt apart. He pushed his tongue into you before groaning. “Baby sit your whole body down on me. Sit like a good girl” You did as you were asked making him grin against your body. He buried his face into you lapping at everything you offered. “Good girl, now- can you touch your pretty clit for me?” He asked.
“Mhm” you moaned out your hand roaming down your body, rubbing against your clit softly. “Now use me baby, use my tongue. Make a mess.” He purred. And you did. You moved your hips against his mouth body starting to shake from pleasure.
“D-daddy close” you moaned head falling backwards.
“Cum for me princess, fuck- make a mess on daddies face” he said slapping your ass softly.
His tongue was so deep inside you licking fast. Your legs started to shake as you came hard. Hard against his tongue trying to pull away from to lay down from how hard you came you were only met with Chans strong hands keeping you in place. “Gotta clean you baby- fuck can’t waste any of it” he said lapping everything up.
When he was satisfied how clean you were he layed your body down. His lips slamming against yours. He couldn’t hold back anymore stripping himself of his close before rubbing his cock up and down your folds. “You remember to use your words if you need to stop.” He said sternly. When you nodded he let a soft smack to your tits “words. I need to hear you.”
“Yes daddy. I know the- the word” you whimpered.
With that he pushed into you. He wanted to go slow he really did but fuck you were already sucking him in so well. His was fucking you hard, his hand slinking up to your neck. Applying pressure as he made you look at him. “Such a good girl, taking me so fucking well” he groaned. “My pretty girl. Fuck I love you.”
“Love you too daddy, s’much” you managed to get out. His hand let go of your neck, pushing your legs forward as he fucked into you deeper. You could feel his balls smacking against your ass his cock already twitching inside of you. “Daddy- daddy! Close!” You almost screamed.
“Give me your hands Princess.” He said reaching out interlocking your fingers together. “Want daddy to cum with you?” He said his eyes soft as he stared down at you lovingly.
“Yes- please- together-“ you stuttered out head spinning. He leaned down kissing you lovingly as he moved. His cock hitting deep against your cervix. You were seeing stars at this point you wrapped your legs around his back pulling him somehow deeper. “Daddy!” You almost screamed.
“Cum with me baby- fuck- cum with me!” He moaned. Both of you came hard. His cock twitching inside of you filling your pretty cunt full as you came around his cock.
He pulled you close to him holding you tightly as you both came down from your intense orgasms. “You ok princess? Here take a sip of water” he said grabbing the bottle beside you. “I didn’t go too hard on you did I?” He asked moving a piece of hair from your face.
“It was just as perfect as you daddy” you giggled. He smiled kissing your forehead “i love you princess. Happy birthday.”
“I love you too daddy! So very much.”
The rest of the night was filled with cuddles and a long warm bath with soft music and candles. Both of you tangled together in the water.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143
#stray kids#skz#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#bangchan#bangchan scenario#stray kids smut#stray kids drabble#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#bangchan smut#bangchan drabble#bangchan fanfic#bangchan x reader#daddy chris#kpop smut#kpop drabbles#changbin#han jisung#hyunjin#seungmin#jeongin#Lee know#Lee Felix
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Nicola loves the girls, the gays, and Luke Newton.
Dearest gentle readers,
Well! What an interesting few days. I'm not sure where to even start. I just want to let Jakeholes know, this isn't the blog for you, so it's best you move along now before you start foaming at the mouth.
In my first blog, I touched on subtext and reading between the lines. This is something I teach to my students and encourage their critical thinking skills. I will give out a photo and ask my students to 'infer' from what they can see in the photograph. 'Inference is a process of deriving logical conclusions from premises known or assumed to be true. It is also a guess or an opinion that is formed based on the information that you have.' In an exam, if I gave the students a photograph and they simply told me that all they could see was that the sky was blue, the grass was green, the lady is wearing a green coat and the man a hoodie and a baseball hat, they would not get very many marks.
However, if they described what they could 'infer' from the photo, such as that handhold does not look genuine and his fingers are stiff, their laughter seems over the top, the man isn't wearing a coat in January. They seem to be looking directly at the photographer, they never make eye contact in any of the photos. This would get them some more marks. Then if they went that one step further and asked WHY to all these points and backed it up with a statement explaining why - they would get even more marks. For example, why isn't the man wearing a coat in January? This could suggest the weather is not that cold in London at the moment, or the this picture might be from an earlier time period. They could look at the shop displays for evidence. Why does the lady never make eye contact with the man, could it infer that she is uncomfortable doing so or the thought never occurred to her? Why are they looking directly at the photographer? Could it possibly indicate they knew the paparazzi were there? And why would they want the paparazzi to take their photo's? What do you say to that class? Are they a couple happily in love? Write me a story on it, one, two, three go! They say a picture paints a thousand words.
Now since Deux Moi dropped the photos just as I was cooking the kid's tea (British slang for dinner) I have once again been glued to Twitter. I had to take a break for a bit and ensure my offspring didn't starve, but I thought oh god another shitshow and the day isn't even over. But I open Instagram and I swear I had the best laugh I have had all day really. I'm not sure when these photos were taken. The weather does look mild to be January and Jake is wearing a hoodie, but my husband is stupid like this and walks around in board shorts. In January. In Wales. When I tell you it's baltic cold, I mean it. But men apparently don't feel the cold especially if you're 24 and plastered to the side of your bestie or PR girlfriend, however you prefer. Us Brits love analysing the weather, probably because it's so shit here. So the timing is not really the issue for me. What made me laugh was was those two belly-laughing in some London alleyway looking like, 'look at us, we're so funny, everything is hilarious haha.' This was quite surprising to me as I genuinely did not realise Jake had a sense of humour, especially around Nic. What did she say that was so funny? We know she has the ability to make Luke belly laugh just by scratching her nose really. It was almost as if it was all a bit orchestrated for the cameras they were staring directly at. 'Smile and laugh for the camera Jake! You've been framed!'
So what was this? A PR set up that Nic and Jake were clearly aware of? Call me sceptical, but I've never seen anything so obviously fake and staged in all my life. Well except the motorbike segment on Graham Norton on the 13th of December last year. I have thought a lot about this and I know I might get some hate, but it's my opinion and I'm sorry Nic if you ever read this. Another thing us English teachers like to do is DESCRIBE things. Describe it to me Peter, or it didn't happen. Touch, smell, sound, taste, sight. Those are the five senses and if you write me a story, you bet your ass they better be in it or it's an F for you. So Nicola, describe to me how it felt racing through London on the back of a motorbike driven by a geriatric, Guinness drinking granddad (do you like my use of alliteration here fellow English teachers?). Graham Norton - 'we have a picture of you on the bike!' Erm, no you have a picture of Nicola stood next to the bike with her thumbs up. There was a video released by her PR company simultaneously that shows Nicola in a STUDIO sitting on the bike and it moving very, very slowly. We do not see her whizzing away up the road on the back of said bike into oblivion, screaming like Michelle Phieffer in Grease 2, clutching on to cool rider Guinness granddad for dear life. In fact, when asked about the experience she recalls literally nothing. If it was me, I'd have been like OMG Graham I almost died! The wind was howling, I was freezing, all I could hear was the rush of wind and the honking horns of cars. All I could see was the glare of lights and traffic and I tasted my own tears through fear.
Watch it if you don't believe me. There was nothing. Am I positive it didn't happen? Actually yes, show me the footage and I'll believe. Why did she go through this elaborate scheme? I have my theories and I will not share them here. I have said enough. But I did get an image in my mind of Luke in Rome rubbing his forehead and thinking, what is she up to now? He was probably secretly a bit proud.
Ok back to tonight's debacle. After the shit show that was Luke's disastrous family weekend than had more taps dripping than the Leaky Cauldron in Harry Potter, I find it highly convenient these photos drop today of all days. I know that Nicola HATES Deux Moi and the feeling I believe is mutual. Wouldn't DM have looked at these photos logically and thought, well these two look like besties out for a stroll? I suppose she does not care, whatever sells right? Was this to yet again spite Nicola?
Or was this Nicola who saw everything that Luke endured this weekend, and quietly told her PR team to 'drop' the photos of me with Jake to divert some attention away. Did she come charging in on her white horse (motorbike) to save the day? There is also the highly suspicious tanned photo of Nic at the WT premiere and then Luke's photo from the funeral, (I do not condone this by the way and I was upset for him this morning and his invasion of privacy) which also shows a bit of a red, sunburned face. Did Nicola once again panic and try to control the narrative? I am lately still picking up on her nervous, scared energy in my readings. She is very nine of swords in her head. Losing sleep etc.
I do love a good mystery and folks, I guess if you are reading this and nodding and not screaming obscenities at me through your screen, I guess you are stuck here with me on the ship for the long haul. I actually loved these photos tonight as it gave me a good laugh and and it proved to me even further that Jake is to Nic what Kurt Hummel is to Rachel Berry. Besties. It is also quite ironic that the first pap pics of them last October dropped the week his trailer for WT dropped and these photos land the week his film is released! What are the chances! Coincidence, Sherlock?
PS. No I do NOT believe Antonia was at Luke's family member's funeral. We have to stop treating this girl like the bogeyman. Let her go and live her life. Luke is living his I have no doubt.
PPS. It is not homophobic to recognise someone is gay. I INFER this from his own Instagram and his friends and partner's posts. I am fed up of being called homophobic when I have a lot of gay friends and two gay cousins.
PPPS. Luke and Nic sitting in a tree, KISSSING. I see you Nic, you savvy little mamma ;,)
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GT: I should preface this request with an overture of appreciation. GT: For how much your cool and brotherly friendship means to me. GT: It has just been… GT: Absolutely *bully* having a standup gent like you in my corner. GT: Just a grade a dude whos a cut above the others in class and camaraderie. GT: Phew… *gropes for fresh kerchief*.
Wow, Jake is fucking terrified of this guy - or at the very least, he seems incredibly intimidated for a guy who's ostensibly just chatting with a friend.
Unfortunately, this is exactly what I'd expect from a Bro who's not any different from his adult self. Jake's acting exactly like Dave did, back when he was forced to share an apartment with the guy.
TT: Take it easy, bromide. TT: Just about the only way I could salvage endearment from this perilous slope of horseshit would be to discover, really fucking soon mind you, it was a preamble to some floundering invitation for me to rush to your vicinity as nakedly as possible.
In other words, you wish he was hitting on you.
I really don't think he's kidding, especially since both Roxy and Jane seem to want a piece of English, too. Jake's sitting at the epicenter of at least three crushes, which is not a pleasant place to be sitting when you're fifteen.
TT: But since we've already shot that wad's eventuality on so many dry runs of flustered ambivalence that were as hilarious as they were one sided, TT: That leaves only one hope for this message to avoid spiraling toward qualification as a critical fucking defect in the hull of the Mach 10 rocket that is my precious spare time.
And here's the guy's actual personality. It's a fairly even mixture of Rose and Dave, a combination which synergizes much better than you'd expect.
He's still prone to Dave-style rambles - but unlike Dave, his streams of consciousness are every bit as eloquent as Rose's text, which some extra swear words tossed in for flavor.
It's very good, and immediately does a lot to humanize him, especially when all we've seen so far is "roof. now." and "State your business."
TT: And that hope lies in the extent to which you were practicing artful insincerity. TT: Now's your opportunity to pretend that's what you were gunning for. I suggest you seize it. GT: I… GT: Oh. Yes! But of course. GT: The ironies! GT: Good grief how i was bandying them just now. You know me dude. GT: *Blows smoke off red hot irony pistol.* GT: *NONSUGGESTIVELY!!!!!*
lmaoooo
Alright, I can't actually tell if that was a Freudian slip or not - but I kind of hope it was. If these two became a couple, the vibes would be incomprehensible.
TT: I'm guessing you're probably jonesing for uranium about now. No? GT: Ok can you please just sendificate me some more already?? Im in kind of a hurry! [...] TT: You know. I've offered to construct the rabbit for you many times before. I would craft a much deadlier model. […] GT: Damn it man ive told you this is just something i have to do myself. […] TT: Yeah, I know this is your policy. You've done a good job and you should be proud. TT: But it's my responsibility as your friend to offer one last time. TT: Just as it's my responsibility not to just fork over a bunch of uranium just because you ask me in a moment of weakness. […] GT: Why not??? TT: It's too easy.
Throughout this whole conversation, I've been trying to get a grasp on Bro's general vibe - and I think I'm starting to understand it.
When you're talking to Kid Bro, everything is a game - and he'll make damn well sure that you follow the rules.
Jake previously committed to making the bunny alone, and Bro refuses to rescind that rule, even if Jake's no longer following it himself. He strikes me as a guy who frames every interaction he has as transactional, confrontational, or instructional. He's not capable of just shooting the shit - there has to be an angle.
Mind you, I don't think there's any genuine malice in it. I think this is just how he's wired - and I really do think he's trying to help Jake develop as a person, in his own way.
The problem is, we've been down this road before...
...and nothing good lies down this road.
#homestuck liveblog#full liveblog#act 6#s183#4184#edit: ok interestingly he DID offer to rescind the rule#but only if jake lets him fully make the bunny himself#he demands all-or-nothing basically
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Please help a starving Anon..... I need more Mother Hen Hal from you...The way you write him and the characters are so good and perfect(idc if anyone disagrees), i am dying../silly/nf
It can have anything you wish to add, maybe a sprinkle of hurt/comfort (let's not forget the queers(BatLantern) too/verysilly)/lh
Yeah, you can absolutely have more mother hen Hal!!! This one is a little early in the relationship, pre-Flittermouse, and Dick-centric.
The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen (Dick)
"B! Thanks for coming to get —"
Dick stops and tilts his head as the window of the Lambo rolls down. It's not Bruce, here to pick him up from a celebration at Titan's Tower he was just a smidge too drunk to drive himself home from.
It's Hal.
"Hi, kid," he greets. "Bruce was asleep when you texted. I told him to chill out and I'd get you instead."
"Oh, hi," Dick says, a little off-kilter. His grin only wanes a little. "Yeah. Okay."
He walks around the car and climbs into the front passenger seat, brows furrowed. It's the first time they've been alone together since Bruce told the boys that they started seeing each other.
"Thanks."
"No problem. Have you eaten in a while? Might hit a drive-through before we get back. My treat as long as you don't tell Alfred."
Dick nods slowly, staring at Hal like he can't quite figure everything out. Hal just shoots him an easy smile, then focuses his attention on the road.
They're quiet for a while, the radio playing some top 10 hit softly through the speakers neither one of them recognizes. When Hal pulls up to order them some food (and how curious that he knows Dick's usual) then waves away Dick's effort to pay, the man can't help but say something.
"You don't... have to do that."
"It's like thirty bucks, champ. I've got it," Hal chuckles.
"I don't mean the food."
Hal looks at Dick curiously. It's probably the fact that he's still pretty sloshed, but he feels especially vulnerable in the car with him, and can't quite keep his thoughts to himself.
"You don't have to pretend to care about Bruce's kids just because you're dating Bruce." Even as he says it, he knows it was mean and dismissive. Dick chews on the inside of his cheek and can't figure out how to take that back, so he stops talking.
Hal doesn't respond. Dick can't make himself look at Hal's face, so he fiddles with the Nightwing charm dangling off his cellphone.
"Here's your meal, sir. Enjoy," says a fast food employee. Hal thanks her quickly, then pulls into a parking lot and kills the engine. Dick listens to him rustle through the bag and sort out what belongs to whom for a minute, then gently takes his portion from him when it's offered.
"Hey," says Hal. Dick pretends he's too preoccupied with opening the sauce packet for his chicken nuggets to look up. "Okay. I'd probably be a little skittish after dropping a bomb like that, too. So, just listen for a sec, okay?"
"Kay," he mumbles through a mouthful of fries, trying very hard not to feel like he's eight years old and sitting in Commissioner Gordon's office, waiting to find out if Bruce will assume guardianship and take him home, waiting to see if he'd be accepted or rejected.
"I think Bruce is it for me."
Hmm. Okay, not the words he expected to hear, but Dick is listening.
"You've probably heard that from his exes before. Something about Bruce is just...captivating. He's got his own gravitational pull, and I'm not interested in getting knocked outta orbit."
Hal pops a couple fries in his mouth. Dick sees his shoulders shrug in his periphery.
"I'm in love with him, is the point. Have been for a few years now, but I didn't think it was reciprocal until that battle in Coast City. But Bruce isn't just Bruce, is he?"
Hal reaches across the center console to gently squeeze Dick's knee.
"He's Bruce, and Dick, and Jason, and Tim, and Damian. He's got a whole gaggle of wonderful sons I'd love to get to know."
"We've worked together tons of times before," Dick says. He's barely picking at his food, too busy trying to figure out Hal's point.
"Sure. I've worked with Nightwing a lot. But that's not all you are. I don't really know anything about Dick Grayson, and I'd really like to."
Hal pulls his hand away and picks up his burger to take a bite.
"All this to say...I know you guys are mostly grown. You're used to having one parent and don't really need another one, and, damn, I don't know the first thing about any of that. But I'm in this for the long haul, and you can rely on me. I don't want any of you believing you're just an afterthought to me. Okay?"
Oh. Oh.
In lieu of an answer, and also because his throat feels too tight to speak, Dick just nods and goes back to eating. They finish their food in silence and Hal gets out to dispose of the trash, then turns the engine again to take him the rest of the way home. As he parks and they leave the garage, Dick throws his arms around Hal. He pretends the stinging in his eyes is some weird effect from the alcohol when Hal hugs him back just as tight.
"Goodnight, kid," he murmurs. "Go take a glass of water and some ibuprofen to bed with you for that hangover in the morning."
"Yes, mom," Dick snorts, teasing, but he detours to the kitchen with a shy little grin anyway.
#littlest wayne au#batfam x reader#dick grayson#hal jordan#that feeling when your dad's new partner actually factors you into the relationship :0#batlantern
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HYUN-JU x TALKACTIVE!READER
pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader
author's note: this is so me.. i talk way too much so i'm lowkey just projecting myself on here. anyways, requests are open but i'm taking my time replying since i've been busy so just keep that in mind!
▸ hyun-ju is a good listener. a great one, even. she's got a big heart and soul, she's someone who is willing to listen to whatever you have to say. and she doesn't just listen, she tries to understand. which is a quality that is hard to find these days.
▸ you noticed it a bit later in your relationship. every time you talk, she listens and isn't afraid to ask questions regarding your situation or interest. she's genuinely invested in what you have to say. "oh, really? tell me more, hon."
▸ even if you just say random things or suggestions related to literally anything, she's all ears! whatever is going on in your head, every single sentence you utter, she's always nodding a long. she's probably wondering how you managed to say three sentences in a second.
▸ you tend to get very extroverted when you get comfortable. you'd ramble about anything for hours and hours, hyun-ju finds this adorable. she's definitely admiring you as you speak, your words always find a way to her heart.
▸ if you were talking about something she has no clue in, she's gonna research about it either online or in books so she could talk about it with you! even if small mistakes slip, her efforts show. and you appreciate that more than ever.
▸ "wait, you watched the movie and read the book?" — "yeah! i thought it would be nice to discuss it with you. you talked about it nonstop last week, so i figured i'd give it a look, and i must admit- you do have amazing taste."
▸ good moods mean you'd go on walks with hyun-ju and visit multiple parks at once. pointing out random birds, trees, and flower types. speaking whatever crossed your mind in specific moments.
▸ "oh look! a daisy. did you know daisies bloom in the spring like every other flower and their last bloom is in autumn? though, that's very common, um. ah! moon flowers, they only bloom one night a year." you'd giggle, "i did not know, but i do now!" hyun-ju smiles.
▸ during movies you can get very quiet. but as the movie ends, you'd ramble quicker than speed itself. "it's okay. at best. i just don't understand why the characters would do such things! i guess it is fictional, but still! does logic not exist in that universe?"
▸ same thing with books, you can read for hours in silence, but as soon as you close the book... "hyun! you must read this! not only is this one of a kind, but once you read it you can not put it down. i love it so much, it made me tear up a bit because of a character, but, um. okay, no spoilers!"
▸ hyun-ju could get really lost in your voice sometimes. you'd be talking about something silly like rocks or something, and she'd still be mesmerized. hyun-ju thinks that your voice could easily soothe her to sleep.
▸ and it's true, your voice makes her feel so safe. during conversations, she gets sudden realizations of how lucky she truly is. to be able to listen to you, in a calm setting, just the two of you.
▸ if you send her voice notes, she'd listen to it on repeat. especially when she's away or vice versa, she loves hearing your voice over and over as it gives ger comfort.
▸ "hey, hyun! i know you're really busy, and i know you only listen to my voice notes when you're done with work, so i ought to tell you about how much i love you. and how much i miss you. don't forget to tell me goodnight, or not the bed bugs might bite me."
▸ she would never think of your ongoing talks as unimportant. if you would suddenly pause and stop talking, she'd notice immediately. but hyun-ju always reassures you that it's perfectly okay.
▸ if you feel tired or off, and you just wanna be quiet for a bit, hyun-ju likes to ramble too, she does it a bit more often ever since she's met you. her voice is sleepy, her head lays near yours, your bed is cold and hyun-ju is the only source of warmth. as she traces your hands, "do you wanna know what happened earlier in the office?" you'd nod, she'd talk and only stop when you've completely fallen asleep.
▸ "and that's the end of it. goodnight, angel." she'd place a kiss on your forehead before falling asleep herself.
#cho hyun ju#cho hyunju#cho hyun-ju#cho hyunju fanfic#cho hyun ju x reader#squid game cho hyunju#hyun ju squid game#hyunju x reader#hyun ju#hyunju#hyun ju x reader#player 120#player 120 x reader#squid game spoilers#spider man#squid game 2#squid game s2#squid game#squid game season 2#squid game hyun ju#squid game headcanons#squid game fanfic#squid game fluff#squid game x y/n#squid game x you#squid game x reader
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It's interesting, because I'm reading a Brazilian Portuguese translation and I've been finding some differences from the English one, which I suspect may be truer to the original Greek. For example, in Portuguese, Menelaus is described as a blond instead of a ginger, and Athena is described with green eyes instead of gray. So I think that's the reason there might be a misconception on my part, since in the scene when Menelaus tells Telemachus what he knows about Odysseus, he says Proteus told him so after Menelaus captured him, instead of it being a dream.
I mean, if it had been described as a dream, it'd be very understandable why he wouldn't say anything! That's not trustworthy information you just go sharing out of nowhere, indeed. But since it was a prophet God that told him that (in the book I'm reading, at least), I thought it was a bit jarring he didn't try to warn anyone, you know?
Especially after he told Telemachus he liked Odysseus so much, he'd empty the island of Ithaca and relocate all of its inhabitants to Laconia, make a whole new kingdom for Odysseus there, just so they could rule nearby each other. Which is why I made the gay joke, by the way haha It's my first time reading Ancient Greek mythology and I admit I was caught off guard by such an earnest expression of Menelaus' love for his friend. Honestly, I get it, I would do the same for my best friends! Haha And I agree, I don't ship them either (even tho I haven't read the Iliad yet - yeah, I know 🥲) and I think it should be more normal to express how much we care about our friends the way Menelaus does.
Regardless, you are right the poor man had enough on his plate already.
And when you put it like that, indeed it's an awkward letter lol
Still, maybe I'm projecting too much here, but if I were in Penelope's or Telemachus' place, I'd like to know something, anything. As useless as the information may sound. They knew Odysseus didn't die in the Trojan War, so what happened? I'd find some semblance of comfort in knowing someone heard my loved one is still alive and he wants to get back to me. I can understand where Menelaus would be coming from, if he thought knowing wouldn't help Penelope of Telemachus at all, but if it were my husband or my father, I'd be furious no one told me.
And maybe it's wishful thinking on my part, but who knows, Penelope might have had some leverage to hold the suitors back in that scenario. It would be extremely disrespectful to try for the Queen's hand if there's a chance the King's still alive. And maybe then Telemachus would have had a chance to prove himself earlier, to show he is already a man and capable of taking over the throne, if he had traveled to look for his father sooner. I mean, Athena herself goes to Telemachus and essentially asks him "Why don't you finally kick those men (the suitors) out of your palace? Why don't you go try to get information about your father?". So maybe having a lead earlier on may have had saved them some of the trouble. At least that's what I was thinking when I read that scene.
And yes, you're right! There is a chance Menelaus did try to send a letter and it never arrived. And maybe he thought he ought to "repeat" the whole story to Telemachus, since the poor boy went through the trouble of getting to Sparta and asking him about Odysseus in person.
Well, at the end of the day, you are the scholar here, I'm just reading those myths for the first time hahaha. To be honest, I wrote the og post as a silly joke when I was half asleep, I didn't expect it to get any attention at all. So I apologize for any misinformation I may have spread on accident!
Telemachus is so much stronger than me for real. Cause if I had traveled for days, by sea AND land, arrived at the palace of my father's friend and my mother's cousin to humbly ask if they know anything about my missing father and instead of just fucking telling me already, this mf started a monologue about how gay he is for my dad and about the time he captured a God that granted him wishes three, I'd already be telling him to Hurry The Fuck Up. IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS, I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY.
But if the same motherfucker then turned around and told me that he had known FOR YEARS NOW that my dad is trapped on an island AND THE MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T TELL ANYONE!!!! NOT A SINGLE LETTER!!! I would have already strangled Menelaus with that fucking blond hair of his in front of his wife and children, unhelpful son of a bitch.
#greek mythology#the odyssey#menelaus#telemachus#I finally got a copy of the Iliad too so I guess I'll pause my reading of the Odyssey and read that one first#maybe it'll clear things up a bit
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Hi, love your work
I'm a trans girl, and I have something I'd like your help with.
I don't have any of the common sense that I would get from the life experience of being raised as a girl
I'm worried that I'll end up in a dangerous situation because I was oblivious to the risks.
thank you! thanks for stopping by, that's actually a really great thing to ask about! you definitely want to know what you're possibly getting into when it comes to other people treating you. you want to know what to expect and that's good! women have it hard and people can be very invasive
i was raised/socialized as a girl/woman before i transitioned so i can give a bit of insight, since i've been there too. these are just a few tips, it's not a comprehensive list, nor is it in any particular order. just some things to keep in mind!
Safety & General Advice Tips for Trans Women:
First and foremost, try to not let too much of this stress get to you at once. At the end of the day, womanhood can be an extremely varied experience, so your mileage will vary with a lot of these. Try not to get too wrapped up in feeling paranoid of strangers if possible, while there are strangers who can potentially want to hurt you, there are also those who are minding their own business or even support you. It's definitely okay to have your guard up, but it may affect your mental health greatly if you are starting to feel endangered by most people around you.
It's good to be informed, alert and aware, but if it starts getting to a point where the way you feel about strangers is making your quality of life worse, it may be a good idea to take the time to focus on yourself and those who love you to remind you that womanhood isn't always miserable, even though it can feel like it at times. There will still be good moments, whether you're by yourself or with friends, that you can cherish to help alleviate some of the pain that cisheteronormative patriarchy can cause.
You may notice after you come out to others that they start talking down to you, condescending to you, doubting your emotions and experiences, downplaying your struggles, or even being rude and mean about things they weren't that way about before. People have a lot of internalized misogyny and tend to compulsively begin treating a woman or someone they perceive to be a woman like they're incapable of thinking for themselves. This is really common, so if this starts happening to you, try not to let it get to you. You're not too dumb to think for yourself.
People may start to doubt your capability at your job, if you are employed. You may notice a huge shift in respect and how your customers and clients treat you, especially if you work in a male dominated field. People may ask to talk to your cis man/cis man passing coworkers instead of you and it's okay to get angry about this. You may get paid less than your cishet man/cishet man passing coworkers as well and it's okay to be angry about this, too.
Come out slowly so you can adjust and gauge how the people in your life will treat you. When coming out at first, stick to very close friends and family members you have a good relationship with. You can take this as slow or as quickly as you want. But when you're first coming out and unsure of yourself, you don't have to overwhelm yourself by telling the entire world right out of the gates if you don't want to. You can take it at your own pace.
It's up to you whether or not you want to pass as a woman, either in your personal or public life. If you don't want to pass or just don't want to try, that's okay. If passing is vital to your mental health and how you want to be seen, that's also okay. You're allowed to decide how you present and appear. Keeping your safety in mind is also super important, so if you feel the stress of trying to pass as a woman would be too much or even dangerous for you to do so, it's okay to not try to pass. You're also allowed to "look trans," too.
Makeup can and does change how peoples' faces look drastically, so you may find that makeup can help you pass for safety or personal reasons. Even something as simple as eyeliner and mascara can change the way one's face looks. Highlighter & contour used on the cheeks, nose and brow can very much transform one's appearance, and if you have very visible stubble, you can utilize foundation and other products to help mask it when in public or around other people you need to pass for safety or personal reasons.
Most strangers in public generally think that long hair = woman. There are men and other people regardless of gender who wear their hair long, but for passing, safety, or personal reasons, long hair can drastically change how strangers see you.
Layers, flowy and loose fitting clothing help mask certain traits of the body, so if you feel insecure about how strangers perceive certain parts of your body, you may be able to obscure it from strangers' view by wearing a few layers or loose fitting clothes.
You may want to avoid taking long walks in dark places at night alone if possible. It is very much true that it can be unsafe to be out late at night- this can be regardless of your gender- but as a feminine person or woman, there is a genuine risk of being out late at night without someone else around, or being inside of a car. This is a little stereotypical to say, but it is a genuine danger.
If you're out in public and ever feel like someone is stalking or following you and you're alone, pull out your cell phone if you have one and pretend to take a phone call. Talk into your phone like you're speaking to another person, and if necessary, actually call someone else. Generally speaking, someone who wants to cause harm will not want there to be witnesses, especially not someone who can hear what's happening directly and can come over to the scene or call for emergency assistance. Put your best friends, family members and other emergency contacts on speed dial or favorite contacts if your phone has that kind of feature to make it even quicker and easier.
When meeting someone from a dating app, social media or other place online for the first time, do so in a public setting like a restaurant or other busy area where there are a lot of other people nearby to prevent potentially dangerous behaviors. Try to avoid meeting up with someone for the first time at your home when and where possible. Try to avoid giving out your exact location or address before you have interacted with someone in person.
Being in groups in public can drastically increase your safety levels, especially if those people are willing to stand up for you. It's also hard for people to get a close read on you if you are with a lot of other people. The more there are of you, the better.
There's nothing wrong with wanting to carry self defense tools just in case. That won't make you a violent person, looking out for your safety is crucial. It's okay to prepare for this kind of thing.
You may find that people suddenly start being needlessly sexual toward you, or sexualize your womanhood without you telling them you enjoy that kind of thing first. People may shift their view on how they feel about you and become aggressively sexual. You are not obligated to accept that if it makes you uncomfortable.
You may find that people start to doubt your physical strength and capability for no real reason.
Trans chasers do exist, though they're not every person who's attracted to trans women. Chasers will usually focus very hard on the things that make you "non passing" to them, to the point where it makes you feel very uncomfortable because you no longer feel as though you are being viewed as a person, but rather, a sexual object that fascinates them. They may also use hurtful slurs and humiliating language toward you without your consent.
I know people say this a lot but it's true, public bathrooms can be dangerous, so it's best to stay cautious when entering one. Wear a face mask if possible inside to help people mind their own business. Avoid conversation if possible. Looking nervous may draw some attention, so keeping a cool head and focusing on the task at hand can help in some situations.
You do not have to feel ashamed of your voice, but if you're noticing people getting caught up on your voice, you can do some vocal training, or choose to speak in shorter, more concise sentences and utilize body language around those people, or both. You don't have to completely silence yourself as you deserve to speak up for yourself, but using more body language may help you have an easier time with strangers who are or may become caught up on how your voice sounds. There are all kinds if women with deep voices, but some people do focus on this.
Women's support groups and spaces can potentially be very welcoming, or very hostile depending on the people involved. There are women's spaces who accept trans women, but there are also those who do not. Try not to feel too bad on yourself if you find these spaces do not accept you, because it says nothing about you and everything about that space.
It's good to have friends, lovers and family who are also women, but cis women in particular are not always inherently safe to be around and can harm you. If you feel like the cis women around you are hurting you, you're allowed to say that they are. Cis women can be great allies and friends, but they are not inherently safer to be around than any other gender. You do not have to tell yourself they are not hurting you because women can't hurt each other. You do not have to convince yourself the pain isn't real because women are incapable of harming others. If you feel as though the cis women in your life are treating you badly, it's okay to talk about it and validate yourself in that you can genuinely be harmed by cis women and you do not have to downplay any of that pain whatsoever.
If you notice a lot of these things happening to you, It's more than okay to be angry at the shitty behaviors people may start showing you as a trans woman. It's okay to feel anger towards those actions and how people look down on women. It's okay to express your pain. It's okay to express worry and concern. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to not know what to do at first or in certain situations. It's okay to take a while to adjust to how people are treating you if it changes. As long as one doesn't direct that anger at people who haven't hurt them, there is nothing wrong with any of this.
now you may have a totally different experience depending on the people around you. there's no way to know exactly how people will treat you after coming out, so take things step by step, day by day. for your own mental health, try not to let yourself get too caught up in these things. it's great that you want to look out for potential danger! it's a very real issue, but your mental health is also super important and if you find that all you can think about is being in danger, you definitely deserve to find ways to alleviate that stress. take care of yourself when and where possible to make the experience more enjoyable.
tailor your experience in your home and personal life as much as you can to your liking. being out in public can be dangerous and scary, but you do deserve to be out somewhere, even if it's when it's just you alone in your room, talking to your friends. women, especially trans women, can be in a lot of potential danger at all times, but don't let yourself get consumed by fear all the time, as you deserve quality of life and you deserve to feel proud and euphoric about being a trans girl. you deserve validation and kindness. you deserve to feel good about yourself as a trans girl at some point, you don't have to go without that because cishet patriarchal society can be dangerous and hard.
i hope you find this even remotely helpful, i may not have been as informative as i'd like to be, but take care of yourself, okay? it's very good to want to learn the risks of what can potentially happen in society and being a woman in public. others are more than welcome to pitch in as well, please do so if you have tips & suggestions for this anon! take care for now, be good to yourself and remember that there's nothing wrong with being a woman, especially a trans woman. the people who don't like you don't define you: you do. you don't have to listen to them. they don't know who you really are.
#asks#answers#transfemme#transfeminine#trans woman#trans women#safety#transfem safety#transfeminine safety#queer safety#trans safety
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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝
❏ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rin Itoshi x GN!Reader
❏ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff
❏ 𝐰𝐜: 1.2k
❏ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're kind of a pain in Rin's neck, but you're also the only one who's always been there. Maybe Rin can find a spot for you in his life...
❏ 𝗮/𝗻: Still getting used to writing for Blue lock in general so this might be very out of character idk but I'm just kookie for Rin before the trauma MY SHAYLAAA 😭
“Slowpoke!” You call out gleefully to a disgruntled Rin Itoshi, running towards the goal with a ball basically glued to your speedy little feet.
It’s just a friendly game, goal limits marked by school bags and a pair of cleats. But it could never be just a friendly game between the two of you.
Really, it’s Rin’s fault for egging you on, saying you couldn't possibly be the best striker in the world since Sae will be the best and him second best – no space for you – as if third place doesn't exist. Idiot.
“GOOAAALLL!! With no competition, with no hope of being stopped it's a GOAALL!”
“Alright! Pipe down already.” Rin scolds you, cheeks adorably flushed, lip poking out petulantly.
“What's that? Sorry, I can't quite understand you, since I don't speak loser!”
Rin’s round face twists angrily at your taunting, as if he didnt start this, lips already twisting to ask for a rematch when clapping sounds from outside his field of vision.
“Sae-san!”
“Nii-chan!” You call out at the same time, running over to the older boy, “Sorry I'm late.”
“Sae-san, did you see? That goal was perfect, right?” you speak as quickly as your young lungs will allow, desperate for some validation from the one who’d one day be the best striker in the world.
(You believed it then.)
“Well, I wouldn't say perfect necessarily. See, your balance was off and you hit it–” he stops at the slowly deflating confidence on your face, “I saw it. Heard it too. Pretty sure the whole neighborhood did.”
“Well, good!”
Rin immediately scoffs, childishly irked at the pride on your face, “I could’ve scored a perfect goal, two even! If you hadn’t tripped me.”
“Ha! You mean if you hadn’t tripped yourself. Seriously, how will you be the No.2 striker in the world if you can't even walk in a straight line?”
“You–” Rin starts, infuriated and ready to prove you wrong a hundred times over, before Sae cuts him off.
“Alright! How about we all get some ice cream and sort this out another day?” He'd usually let you fight it out, but your volume was beginning to attract odd stares.
You and Rin shoot each other one last glare promising a rematch, before rushing to grab your things and follow Sae.
“Ah, wait. I can't.” Rin’s face flickers with disappointment for a split second. And then he's back to running his mouth.
“Hmph! How are you planning to be the best striker if you keep running off to do other stuff?”
“What does that have to do with ice cream?”
Turns out, everything. Since football is everything, everything is therefore football related.
Totally not because he's jealous of the fact that in spite of training less than him, you have no problem keeping up on the field.
Nope, totally not.
“Tch, whatever. I'm going now. See you tomorrow!” Turning around to leave as Sae tells you goodbye while Rin furrows his brows at the flower of disappointment blooming in his chest.
For a moment, you stand there, thinking, considering.
“Oh and Rin?” You catch his attention, turning around just in time to see his eyes light up like the ocean on a calm sunny day…
And sticking your tongue out at him, “Bleh!”
Sae tries his best not to lose it as his brother trembles in bitterness at you getting the last dumb word, while you're already running off in the other direction.
His brother tells him he'll be going to Spain later that day and time passes in a blink. Before you know it, it's just the two of you.
Walking home. Practicing late after school. Eyes catching during games.
It's a little awkward at first, silences seem to stretch on for longer than they ever have, especially as adolescence puts strange thoughts in both your heads.
Has Rin always been so pretty? So tall? His voice so smooth and his expression so cool when he scores one of his perfect goals?
Has your smile always been that bright? Your eyes? Your laugh that melodic?
When did your presence become the most treasured constant in his life?
Was it all the times when you comforted him when he was missing Sae but never admitting it? (Somehow you always knew.)
Was it when you practiced with him after hours, even when you were ready to drop from exhaustion?
Was it all the times he helped you with your homework, without ever teasing you for needing help?
Or was it this one day…
The sky had been a gloomy kind of dark all afternoon, ready to bring down mighty rain at any moment.
The moment chosen fell right in the middle of one of your late practice sessions.
Slowly, the stickiness of the sweat on your skin turns to the wetness of cold autumn rain.
“Oh, it's finally raining.” Rin comments softly, lightly jogging toward shelter – a few more minutes of training are not worth catching a cold for.
“Huh?” He notices you're not moving, stood still as a statue as the rain keeps coming down without mercy.
“What are you doing? You're–”
“Hey, Rin?” Your voice is so quiet amidst the heavy Rai, but he hears you as… any day but this one. A sliver of nervousness crawls down his spine at something in your tone – what it is, he can't say.
“You still wanna be second best?”
“Of course I do.” He answers firmly, without a speck of hesitation. As if he could ever change his mind.
(If only he knew.)
The corner of your lip lifts into a fond smile, with a dash of something heavier, before you turn to him with a wet and shining ball beneath your foot, “Then, come on No.2. First to score wins, the other's a lukewarm loser.”
You're off before he can say another word, watching the back of your drenched uniform as you race towards the goal.
“Slowpoke–!” Both of you gasp as your foot slips on the wet grass, sending you tumbling onto your back, punching the air from your lungs.
Rin finally moves, rushing to your side without following your example before leaning over you while scanning for injuries.
And then, you're laughing.
He's worried sick, looking at you with the widest eyes in the world, wondering if you have a concussion and you're laughing. Loudly, openly, bright as sunshine with rain water all over your lovely face.
Your lovely face… your lovely dumb face that he just can't stop thinking about – even if it distracts him during games, or class or any moment of his day – he just can't stop thinking about you.
Because you'd always been there, and he hopes you always will be.
“Stupid,” he tells you with no bite, kicking the forgotten ball so it rolls slowly towards the goal, “There, you're a lukewarm loser, now get up before you become a cold loser and I have to carry you home.”
You’re not a loser though, far from it.
And maybe third best isn't that bad. Not if you stay close to him as you are.
Because if the one thing he's always had, the one person who’s always been there, suddenly left?
It might just break him.
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#bllk x gender neutral reader#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x gender neutral reader#rin itoshi#bllk rin#rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x you#rin itoshi x y/n#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin x you#itoshi rin x y/n
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FABLE AND TRUTH 5 | billie eilish
୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. CHAP 5 IS HERE! i'm so sorry my loves i'm kind of a bot and didn't upload for 2 weeks....lol...anyways hi here it is wc. 9.1k
“what’s going on, y/n?”
you’re fighting tears as you look for words, but nothing but chopped stutters pass through your lips. you’re too stunned to speak, and you honestly can’t even comprehend what just happened.
you had kissed billie. it was a complete mistake, but that was a comfort to no one. especially not you.
“hello? i’m getting a little worried now.”
your breath hitches as you stumble over your words, pressing the phone tighter to your ear as if the closeness could somehow keep you grounded. you finally spot the words out, “i messed up.”
“huh?” oliver clears his throat, “you…what? what happened? are you okay?
you choke, your voice cracking under the weight of your panic as you sink into a bench, not far from where you started, “ollie i…i really, really messed up.”
“i’m lost. what’s going on?” he asks, his tone softening as he registers the distress in your voice. you can tell he’s a little worried too, and you didn’t mean to spread the fear to him, but it’s too late for that.
“where are you? do you need me to come get you?”
you pause, glancing around the dimly lit street you’ve been pacing down since storming out of billie’s car. she’s gone now— she left a couple minutes ago, and part of you is upset that she just caved in on you that easily. but she probably has her own emotions to deal with, and she didn’t want to impose them on you, so she just ran.
just like you did.
your blood is practically hot with anger towards yourself, forwards her— any possible direction that you could aim your emotions at, you did. she knew that you were feeling confused, and you knew that you weren’t in the headspace to be making any decisions as rash as that one was. you were aching and empty inside, any sliver of sentiment you had poured itself out through your tears.
you were so very lost. everything you stood for, and everything you were against, it all seemed like blurred lines now. you had to admit, though, you wanted to kiss her. and it didn’t feel wrong when you did it, but it really was the aftermath.
the feeling of shame that washed over you when the kiss broke was almost unearthly. you felt like you had committed the ultimate sin, and you were sure there was no coming back from this. there was no compensation, no do-overs, just you, billie, and the thick feeling of regret hanging loosely in the air, dangling over your head.
a little part of you wish you were still in her car, your lips smashed into hers, her hands roaming in your hair and your heart pumping out of your chest. but it was all an adrenaline rush, the fun in knowing that you’re doing something wrong, but it feels so right. but you didn’t live by what felt right, you lived by what was right.
by law, by an obligation— a duty to serve the one who put breath in your lungs, the very lungs that heaved and shook as you cried your heart out to oliver, no words being said. you were at a loss for them, there was nothing you could say or do or words to describe to convey a fourth of what you felt in the moment.
billie was hurting, too, you were sure of it. all this time that you had spent innocently flirting, hanging out, confiding in her— it was all wasted now, and you were back to square one. she was confused, you kiss her and then you leave? what was she supposed to do with that?
but it wasn’t your fault. you couldn’t. you couldn’t allow yourself to be caught up in fleeting feelings and a stupid crush, you had bigger things to worry about, a faith to nurture and feed, friendships to grow, a degree to catch. you had a long life ahead of you, and success was at the center— and you were sure she couldn’t be a part of it.
oliver facetimes you when he doesn’t hear you answer through the phone. he needed to know you were at least alive, so when the phone connected, he returned back to his normal, calm state. he watched as you wiped your eyes and your hands shook over your open mouth, almost preparing to say something, but all that came out was broken sobs.
“it’s okay,” he whispered, though he knew it wasn’t, but that was the best he could do. “i’m here. i’m ready when you are, take your time.”
you sniffle harshly, your nose running as you try to take the deepest breath you can to steady yourself. you look around the parking lot— its dark now, empty, only a few cars parked at the rage room and a liquor store that’s two buildings down.
your eyes squint at it, the blue fluorescent lights suddenly appealing to you. all you’ve ever had to drink was a glass of wine, and it was your last resort of them all, but it seemed like an idea that would keep your feelings at bay.
so you get up, and you walk.
you’re almost sure you’re not even conscious, because there’s no way you’d ever do this. ever. you’d never intentionally walk to any place that serves alcohol in the middle of the night, much less a store that sells it exclusively.
but you really don’t have any other options.
you could pray, but it seems foreign to you. it feels like God’s turned His back on you, like He’s asleep and you’re trying to jerk Him awake, but His listening is selective. it’s like you’re on the outside, like you’ve slipped out of His hands, and it killed you on the inside.
you felt conflicted. tense, but loose internally. your mind was thinking of things you’d even begin to think of, ready to commit actions that even you weren’t all that prepared for. but you kept walking.
it feels like forever until you finally reach the doors of the liquor store. your legs are worn, feet bruising, and the cut on your hand seems to pulse exponentially worse as time goes on. you wince, and oliver’s eyebrow raises through the phone. you honestly forgot he was on FaceTime due to his silence, but it seemed like he was just simply waiting for you to speak when you were ready.
you shoved your phone into your pocket and approached the door, the fluorescent blue lights buzzing faintly as you pushed open the door open a small bell jingling overhead to make your presence known. the air inside is cool, tinged with the smell of alcohol and old wood. shelves of bottles line the walls, the glass catching the light in a way that makes everything feel hazy, like you’ve stepped into a foreign area.
and you had, truly. you’d never been a liquor store before, because usually, it’d never really interest you. but you were caught up, feeling things you had never felt before, and it was like you were acting before you could think.
you hated that your curiosity was what pushed you through the door and up to the bar area, where your swollen eyes scanned different bottles that were stooped against the wall. you almost walk out, but you’re here now, so you might as well get something.
the only alcohol you’ve ever had is a glass of wine at christmas back home when you turned 21. it was alright, but it wasn’t something you really planned on doing that often— or, to be frank, ever again.
but it intrigued you. why was everyone else so happy and loose when they drank. forgetful, dainty, fearless?
you wanted to feel like that too, right about now— you longed for it, you craved it. so you sucked it up, your normal way of going about things far in the back of your mind as your feet carry you to the front. a young woman stands there with a warm smile, with so many tattoos that there’s more ink than skin. she greets you, “hey there. you must be sunday school,” and then she snickers, “can i help you with anything?”
the words hit you like a slap to the face, the nickname pulling you out of your mind fog for just a moment. your heart stumbles, your mind catching on the phrase— it’s something billie calls you all the time, usually with a teasing grin or a playful nudge. but this woman doesn’t know you— how could she possibly know that?
but you’re so focused on getting rid of this thick, uncomfortable haze that clouds your head, so you shake it off, ignoring the knot forming in your stomach.
“just… looking,” you mumble, glancing away as your cheeks heat with embarrassment, “um…”
the bartender snorts. “sure you are. well, take your time. let me know if you need anything.”
it’s radio silence after that.
you’re really conflicted, to say the least. everything about you had been so prim and proper, so sophisticated— this didn’t feel like the real you at all. or, so you thought.
sometimes, late at night, when your only company was your own thoughts, you’d ponder about what it would be like to switch lives with someone. anyone at all— but your mind always drifted to your best friends.
maybe you could switch with emma, your hair traded for her long, red curls that matched her fiery personality. she really didn’t have a care in the world— she was blunt, honest, kind but straight-forward. she was smart, but very flexible. she didn’t have a set schedule for anything, that wasn’t really emma’s style. and you envied that.
deep down, she was your best friend, but you wished you could steal some of the things that she embodied and keep them as your own. you wished you could just let go and be who you really wanted to be, but that wasn’t what faith was about. that’s not what you were about.
that came first, always. it wasn’t about what you desired, it was about unearthly things, about things that awaited you after you’d pass away. it was important to you, though sometimes, you felt like your true colors were dimmed out. diluted, watered down— but you had to keep composure. there was nothing you could do, because it was all you’d ever known, and it was all you’d ever be.
or maybe you could be like naomi. her ability to express herself through her wild purple hair, her whimsical clothing, all her crazy piercings. she was carefree, but passionate and warm, and always had your back when you needed her to.
and even jules. she was blunt, straight as an arrow, but her laugh was as warm as a california breeze. she was clean cut and undeniably beautiful, her long and silky black hair accenting her perfect and strong features. she was the epitome of beauty and class, yet she didn’t let anyone talk to her sideways. she stood up for what she believed in and never divvied from it.
you shared that with her, kind of. it seemed like you had drifted away now, like you were falling and you couldn’t even catch yourself.
“ma’am, are you going to order anything? or…”
you snap out of your thoughts and look back at the bartender, who’s impatiently tapping her nails against the hardwood countertops. you don’t know the first thing about alcohol, so you stupidly ask, “uhm…well, what’s good?”
“depends,” she starts, leaning against the counter as her eyes darted to the back of her head to gesture towards the cases behind her, “vodka if you wanna get drunk. tastes a little like hand sanitizer, but it isn’t all that bad. it’ll be the easiest on you, i take it that you don’t do this whole drinking thing— so that’s the best start. just burns a little, but you’ll be alright.”
you hum to yourself.
“uh… okay,” you mumble out, glancing uneasily at the rows of bottles behind her. they’re all bright labels and sharp shapes, promising you a world you’ve never stepped foot in. promising relaxation for your nerves, but all of this just seems intimidating. but you really can’t back out now— you’re here already, and you’d do just about anything to quiet your swirling mind. so you just nod, “alright.. i’ll take that, then. vodka.” you nod.
the bartender smirks, a little too knowingly, and it makes you feel queasy.
“so, i figured you’d be a lightweight,” she mutters under her breath, pulling a clear, large bottle from the shelf and setting it on the counter, “you want it straight or mixed? might be easier on you if it’s mixed.”
“mixed, i guess?” you say, your voice unsure. you don’t even know what mixed means— you just don’t want to look like you don’t belong here. which, clearly, you don’t, but if you convince yourself enough, it’ll make you feel a little better.
“you ever drink before?” she asks, grabbing a shaker and some other bottles, pouring them together without even looking at what she’s doing, she’s really just looking at you.
she’s very pretty, and it doesn’t add to your nervousness, or the already disgusting feeling that you have practically glued to you. you’re trying so hard to forget about the kiss, but it’s just wreaking havoc on your brain. and all of a sudden, it’s like you were opened up to a whole new world— one that you didn’t necessarily feel all that comfortable in. but at the same time, it kept you reeled in, like you needed to figure out what all of this was.
but you couldn’t. you had to stand firm. you had things to do, and priorities that couldn’t falter. billie could not and would not be a part of them in any circumstance. you just had to mask it all, slip this underneath the carpet and pretend it had never happened.
“uh, sometimes,” you lie, but it sounds weak even to your own ears. you just didn’t want to seem like you didn’t belong. even though, deep down, you didn’t.
or did you?
the bartender gives you a look, one eyebrow raised, like she knows you’re full of shit. but she doesn’t call you out on it.
“if you say so,” she says, sliding the glass of vodka toward you, “here. start with this. it’s on the house, just for the entertainment purposes.”
you take the glass hesitantly, the cold condensation chilling your fingers as they curl around it, your rings clanking against it, “thanks.”
binging it to your lips, you take a swig, and your face immediately contorts sourly as you slam the glass back onto the counter. the first sip is sharp, burning, and you barely stop yourself from coughing as it slides down your throat.
the bartender watches you with a grin, “yeah, i thought so. don’t worry, kid— you’ll get used to it.”
you’re about to respond— though you don’t even know what you’d say— when movement in the corner of the room catches your eye. at first, you think it’s just another customer, roaming around somewhere, but then you see her.
billie.
of course she’s here, by just your luck. she’s sitting at a small table near the back, a bottle of beer in one hand and her phone in the other. her head is down, her hair falling in loose waves around her face, but there’s no mistaking her. you know it’s her. you can feel it.
your chest tightens, a mix of anger and something you can’t quite name bubbling up inside you. without thinking, you turn on your heel and march toward her, your footsteps heavy against the worn wooden floor.
“oh, hell no.” you hear her mutter as she stands up, her glass forgotten on the table. you can tell just by the way that she’s moving that she’s drunk, and for a second, you’re taken back to that night at the diner. heat is so prominent in your face that you feel like your head will blow off— and in moments, she’s in front of you, her expression a foreign mix of confusion and irritation.
“what the hell are you doing here?” billie asks you, her voice low but tense.
you straighten up, trying to match her energy, but it’s hard when your nerves are shot, and you’re holding a drink you don’t even want.
“none of your business,” you reply, but it comes out shakier than you intended, as always.
“none of my—?” she cuts herself off, running a hand through her dark hair, clearly trying to keep her cool, “you don’t even drink, y/n. what the fuck are you doing in a place like this?”
“i don’t owe you an explanation,” you snap, the words coming out harsher than you expect, but it’s exactly what you wanted. it was exactly what you needed.
she leans closer to you, though it doesn’t seem like it’s on purpose, her eyes narrowing, “you don’t, huh? after storming off and leaving me to wonder if you even were okay? you don’t think i deserve a little bit of an explanation for that shit?”
“billie, i—” you start, but she cuts you off.
“no, you listen to me,” she says, her voice rising slightly at you, “you can’t just kiss me, run off like i’m some kind of mistake, and then show up here pretending like nothing happened.”
“billie…”
“i wish you’d stop acting like this, like you’re too scared to feel something, to be something, and just— i mean, y/n—”
“please, stop it—“
“really, why would you lead me on like this if you didn’t want me? why would you go out with me if—“
“billie, would you just shut the fuck up!”
the words burst out of you before you can stop them, loud and sharp, and the entire room seems to go silent for a moment. you freeze, the weight of what you just said hitting you all at once, and your hands immediately slap over your mouth, terrified. you’ve never sworn like that before— never sworn at all, really, and now it’s hanging in the air between you and billie, heavy and suffocating.
her eyes widen in shock, and for a second, neither of you say anything. then, slowly, her lips curve into a small, incredulous smile, and it makes the anger in you only bubble worse.
“wow,” she says softly, “didn’t know you had that in you.”
your jaw clenches as your hands drop from your mouth, your fingers curling into fists at your sides, “don’t start, billie. just don’t.”
she tilts her head, that stupid smile still tugging at the corners of her lips. it’s like she’s enjoying this, like watching you unravel is some kind of personal victory for her.
“what? i’m just saying, sunday school, you’re full of surprises tonight.”
“enough with the nicknames,” you snap, your voice shaking, but you don’t really care anymore. the dam has broken, and all the emotions you’ve been holding back are pouring out, spilling everywhere, and it’s pointless to try and keep it together when everything is seemingly falling apart, “you don’t get to call me that, billie. not after everything. gosh, i wish you would just leave me alone.”
billie’s expression shifts, her smile dropping almost immediately. she cocks her head to the side, “after everything? what does that even mean?”
“it means you don’t know me. not really,” you say, your voice rising. at this point, the bartender and the other three people in the bar are all looking at you, but you pay them no mind. you needed to get this out.
“and the problem with you is that you think you do, but you don’t. at all. you just push me and push me, and you never stop to think about what i might be going through. you just… assume I’ll be okay with whatever you want. well i’m not. i don’t want you to know me, i don’t want you to ask if i’m okay, but god— most important of all,” you lower your head, your words slow and deliberate, “i don’t want you.”
her brows knit together, and she steps closer, her voice dropping. she looks like she could almost cry, but that’s honestly the least of your worries right now. you were so infuriated at her, and the tears that slipped down her reddened cheeks didn’t even phase you. you had other things to worry about.
“t-that’s not fair,” billie finally speaks, her voice cracking underneath the weight of this heated argument, and for a split second, you almost feel bad. “you don’t let anyone in. h-how am i supposed to know what you’re going through if you don’t talk to me?”
you take a deep breath, trying to contain yourself, “because it’s not your job to fix me, billie. i don’t need you to swoop in and save me all the time. maybe i just need space— have you ever thought about that? huh? have you?”
she flinches like you’ve struck her, and for a moment, guilt twists in your stomach. but then she straightens, her jaw tightening as she meets your gaze, finally looking up from the floor.
“okay,” she says, her voice cold now, all the warmth vanishing as she shrugs gently, “if that’s what you want. i won’t speak to you ever again.”
“good,” you snap, though the word tastes bitter in your mouth, and you almost regret it.
was this really what you wanted? your heart was racing at the words, the reality sinking in. she wasn’t going to ever talk to you again— but that’s what you had begged her for, and now that she’s giving it to you, it’s almost like you had changed your mind. but it was too late for that.
billie stares at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable as she shoves her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. and then, without another word, she turns on her heel and walks away from you, leaving you standing there, idle, your anger dissipating as quickly as it came, replaced by an ache that settles deep in your chest.
you watch her go, the weight of what just happened pressing down on you like a weighted blanket. your shoulders slump, and for a moment, you think about calling after her, about saying something to fix this, but the words won’t come. your stomach feels sick and your head is hot, and you’re sure that you’re sinking into the floor as you hear the bells above the shop jingle, billie’s silhouette disappearing into the night.
with tears brimming your eyes, you turn back to the counter, your hands trembling as you pick up your abandoned drink. the bartender glances at you, her expression a mix of curiosity and pity, but she doesn’t say anything. she just looks at you with an apologetic expression, her lips pursed as she tries to hold back from asking questions.
you take a shaky breath and lift the glass of vodka to your lips, the burn of the alcohol doing little to dull the ache in your chest. you don’t know what you were expecting to find here tonight, but whatever it was, it feels further away than ever now.
the bartender finally speaks. “i’m so sorry, girl.”
“it’s fine,” you mutter out, your nails scraping against your glass, your other hand busy picking at your lips. you’re engrossed in your own thoughts and the silence that consumes you, when you feel your phone vibrate.
oliver.
you had completely forgotten that he was on the other line, and you fish your phone out of your pocket hurriedly, your eyes being met with multiple texts and calls that you had missed from him.
ollie: dude are you okay ??? i’m coming to get u now.
ollie: my phone died so i didn’t hear everything but im omw. stay put.
your chest tightens as you stare down at your phone, guilt gnawing at the edges of your already frayed nerves. you didn’t mean to worry him like that— but you can’t focus on that right now. or really, anything at all.
all you can do is type out a quick response, your fingers trembling as they dance across the screen. you reassure him that you’re fine, and for him to do his best to get here quickly, because you were sure you were absolutely losing it.
you look at the time, and it’s somehow already a little past midnight. your body is exhausted and your mind is racing in so many different areas, and you honestly just want to go home.
you lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket, your hands still shaking as you cradle the empty glass in front of you. you slam it against the counter, “another.”
“honey, i think—“
“just give me the alcohol.” you speak slowly yet sternly, and the bartender just nods, refilling your glass with straight vodka this time. you immediately drink it, the burn of it sitting heavy in your stomach, but it doesn’t do anything to warm you up, to fill the cold, hollow ache that’s settled deep in your chest.
you take another shot. and then two more, and you start to lose count. you felt trapped in your own mind, and usually, you weren’t really all that bothered by it. but after the kiss, after the blow-up in front of everyone, you were thinking and acting irrationally. you were absolutely over it— whatever consequences that were to come, you would deal with them later. but your thoughts only became louder and louder, swarming your conscience, and you would do pretty much anything to get them to disappear right about now.
the bartender eventually refuses to serve you more shots. you’re much past tipsy now— and she can tell by the way a slow, warm grin crawls itself onto your face, and you smush your head into your hands, giggling. your skin is tingly and warm, and it’s foreign to you, but you like it. you can only think of one thing, and it’s how good you feel, and you want to wrap yourself in it and never let go.
the bartender doesn’t push you any further about what happened, or how you’re feeling— she just nods and moves down the counter to give you space. the silence is deafening, broken only by the low hum of the bar’s music and the occasional clink of glasses. you stare down at your half-full drink, your reflection distorted in the clear liquid, and for a moment, you wonder if this is what absolute rock bottom feels like.
the sound of the bells above the door jingling pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up slowly, your nerves and slurred body movements not really allowing you to move much faster. your breath catches in your throat when you see him— oliver, standing in the doorway, his hair slightly disheveled, his chest heaving like he ran all the way here. his eyes scan the room quickly, landing on you, and you see the relief wash over his face as he strides toward you.
“Jesus, dude, you scared me. what the hell happened?” he asks as soon as he reaches you, his voice low but urgent.
you open your mouth to answer, but the words get stuck in your throat, and all you can do is shake your head as your eyes well up with tears again. you break in front of him, your facade faltering, and you just press your head into your palms as your body shivers with your cries.
“oh…hey, it’s okay,” oliver says quickly, his hand reaching out to rest gently on your arm. he gives it a small, gentle squeeze, “let’s get out of here, yeah? come on. i’ll take you home.”
you nod silently, letting him guide you off the barstool and out of the building. the night air hits you like a slap to the face, cold and sharp, and you pull your hoodie tighter around yourself as you follow oliver to his car.
the ride is quiet at first, the tension thick in the small space of his black mini cooper. oliver glances at you every now and then, his knuckles white as they grip the steering wheel, but he doesn’t say much. he’s waiting for you to speak, waiting for you to tell him what’s going on.
“i-i messed up,” you finally whisper, your voice cracking as you slump into the back seat, stretching out your limbs and resting your head against the window, “i messed up so bad, ollie.”
he doesn’t respond right away, just flicks his eyes toward you through the rear view mirror before focusing back on the road.
“okay,” he says slowly, but you can tell he’s worried for what you’re about to tell him, “let’s start with what happened. whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. but you gotta tell me, okay? because i’m not gonna lie, you’re scaring the shit out of me.”
you take a shaky breath, your fingers twisting in your lap as you try to find the words. your mind feels like it’s moving backwards, in slow motion, and you swear that you’re talking, but only your lips move. you rest a hand over your forehead, trying to force sound to come out, “i-i…kissed her.”
“billie?” he asks, surprised, and you nod, your cheeks burning with shame.
“it just… it just happened,” you continue, the words spilling out of you now. people had always talked about having drunk confessions, and well, here was yours.
“a-and then… we fought, and i s-said things— awful things, things i didn’t mean, but they just came out. and now she’s gone, and i-i don’t even know if we can fix this. i don’t know if i want to fix this.”
oliver is quiet for a moment, his brows furrowed in thought. his voice is slightly shaky now, and it’s obvious that he’s really worried about you. he peeks at you through the rear view again, “so… you kissed her— but then what? she got mad? or you got mad?”
“both,” you say, your voice loud, though you meant to say that way quieter than you actually did, and then all the confessions come, “i was sad, r-really sad, and you guys…you guys always talk about how drinking makes you…i don’t know, n-not sad? so i took like— i can’t remember, six shots? and now i’m drunk. and me and billie got into an argument a-and i…i told her i didn’t want her. at all. i’m such an idiot.”
oliver gasps, ready to say something, but you cut him off with your own words, “ollie…i don’t think i can do this anymore. i’m sick, i’m messed up…i-i’m not this perfect little angel that everyone thinks i am. i’m horrible and messy and…i just, i can’t anymore. really.”
you feel oliver slam on the brakes, the car jerking slightly as he pulls over to the side of the road. the sudden stop shocks you out of your rambling, your chest heaving as you realize how out of control your words had become. your stomach felt like it was still in the other lane as you felt oliver park next to the street, and you cover your mouth, letting out an unprompted gag.
oliver immediately unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you, his eyes wide with concern, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
“y/n. hey,” he says, his voice firm but still soft enough to remind you that it’s him, that you’re gonna be okay, “breathe. just breathe. it’s alright, you’re safe.”
you nod shakily, trying to pull in a deep breath, but it catches in your throat. your chest feels too tight, like there’s a rubber band around it pulling tighter and tighter with every second. you feel like you’re on the verge of snapping, so you keep quiet. your eyes slowly closing.
“look at me,” he says, his voice steady, and you do. his eyes are locked on yours, grounding you, “you’re not horrible, okay? you’re not messy, you’re not broken, and you’re definitely not some perfect angel. you’re you, and that’s enough. it’s always been enough.”
you let out a choked laugh, shaking your head as tears spill over your cheeks. you wipe your nose, “no, but you don’t get it, ollie. you don’t know what it’s like to… to feel like you’re drowning all the time. to feel like no matter what you do, it’s never enough. for anyone. not even for me.”
“i don’t know what that’s like?” he repeats, his voice raising slightly as he leans over the armrest, leaning further into you as your eyes hover over him, “you think i don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re not enough? like you’re just… just barely holding it together for everyone else’s sake? because i do. believe me, i do. i just…i don’t talk about it.”
you blink at him, startled. he rarely lets this side of himself show, the side that’s as vulnerable as you feel right now. you whisper, “w-what do you mean?”
“i’ve had my fair share of…bad religious experiences,” he continues, his voice breaking slightly. he really never opens up to anyone, but the timing seemed appropriate, and you didn’t really mind.
“when i came out to my parents, it took them forever to be accepting. i wasn’t welcomed in my church anymore— though i believed, and i still do. but you don’t see me running away or… or drinking myself sick. because while it feels good, it doesn’t fix anything. it just makes it worse. and seeing you like this? it kills me, okay? because you’re not supposed to go through this alone. it hurts us when you isolate yourself.”
“but i feel so alone,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you finally sit up in the seat, your head whirring, “even when you’re here, even when billie’s here, i feel alone. like no one really gets me. not even…not even God.”
oliver’s face softens, and he reaches out to take your hand in his, his grip warm and steady as you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, “yeah, i know it feels like that. like He’s not there, like no one is. and i love you, so don’t take this the wrong way— but you’re wrong. you’ve got people who adore you, who want to help you. i want to help you. but you’ve got to let me in, okay? you’ve got to stop shutting me out. out of all of us, i think i’m the one who won’t bully you sick about this.”
you both giggle softly, and his words sink in slowly, the weight of them pressing against your chest in a way that feels almost comforting. you nod, barely able to meet his eyes as you release your hand from his embrace, playing with your rings, “but i don’t know how.”
“you just start,” he says simply, shrugging like it was nothing, “you tell me when you’re sad. you tell me when you feel like you’re drowning. and then, you let me help you keep your head above water. that’s what i’m here for, okay? that’s what i want to do. because you’re my best friend.”
his sincerity is overwhelming, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a flicker of hope. it’s small, fragile, but it’s there.
“okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “okay, ollie. but i…i need you to do something for me.”
he nods at you fervently, “yeah, anything. anything at all.”
“i need you to help me get away from her,” you say, your voice steadier now, but still tinged with desperation, “i need you to… i need you to fake date me.”
there’s an excruciatingly long pause, this one heavier than any of the last. when oliver finally speaks, there’s a note of disbelief in his voice. he cocks his head to the side and gives you wide eyes, “hold on, you want me to what?”
“just for a little while,” you plead, your words tumbling out in a rush, “i need her to think i’ve moved on or— or that i’m not interested or something. i just need to put some space between us, and this…this is the only way i can think to do it. i just need her to leave me alone. please. while i figure things out.”
“y/n,” he says slowly, like he’s trying to piece together the logic behind your plan, though you can tell by the look on his face that he thinks it’s stupid. “are you sure this is the best way to handle this? i mean, fake dating me? that’s… kind of extreme. and honestly, batshit crazy.”
you shake your head at him. you’ll pretty much do anything to get away from billie right now, and this seemed like the only option. you’d much rather do this with oliver, someone you know and trust, rather than some random, icky dude in one of your classes.
“i don’t have any other options, oliver, please. i just need you to do this for me. just for a little while. you’re the only person i can trust to help me with this.”
he sighs, and you can tell that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he’ll roll with it just to help you out. he takes a good look at you, weighing your request. and finally, he speaks up, “a-all right. i’ll do it.”
relief washes over you as you sit up even straighter, a lazy grin on your face as you nod at him.
“thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with gratitude, “thank you so much.”
“yeah yeah, whatever.” he laughs gently, but his tone firm, “but— you’re going to have to tell me everything. the whole story. no leaving anything out. you need to at least tell me what’s going on if i’m going to be your new boyfriend.”
you nod, “okay, yeah. um…i’ll tell you everything.”
“good,” he says, and then you start.
well, you try to. but the car is too quiet, the only sound that’s audible is the low hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of oliver shifting in his seat. you sit there, staring out the window as cars flash by, headlights and flashing colors streaking the glass like a kaleidoscope. everything outside feels distant, unreal, like you’re a side character in your own movie.
“you good?” oliver’s voice breaks through the silence, soft but firm. it’s not the first time he’s asked, but this time, there’s something heavier in his tone. you can tell he’s a little worried, and you really don’t want to stress him out, so you nod, though it’s everything but true.
you shift uncomfortably, your hands twisting in your lap. you’re not good. you don’t even know what you are right now. all you know is that your chest feels tight, and the words sitting on your tongue are heavy, weighted down by years of fear and uncertainty.
“i told you what happened,” you mumble out, “why do you keep asking?”
“because i don’t think you’ve told me everything,” he says, glancing at you, “i mean, yeah, you told me about billie and the fight, but… there’s more, isn’t there? you wouldn’t be this upset if there wasn’t. so, let me hear it.”
you swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to push the lump down. he’s right— of course, he’s right. oliver always sees through you, always knows when you’re holding back. you don’t know why you thought you could avoid this.
“ollie,” you start, your voice trembling. you pause, unsure if you can even do this, but then his gaze flicks to you again, patient and steady, and it’s enough to nudge you forward, “i need to tell you something. something… kind of big.”
he straightens a little in his seat, his brows furrowing in concern. he’s kind of scared, because based off of the events of tonight, he has no idea what you would have in store. but he just nods, trying to keep enough cool for the two of you, “okay. i’m listening.”
your hands are shaking now, and you clasp them tightly together, trying to keep yourself steady. you take a deep breath, “okay…um…i’ve been trying to figure this out for a long time, and honestly, i’ve been scared to say it out loud. so…um…i’m—?”
he doesn’t say anything, just waits, his expression soft but focused. he’s looking at you like he’s ready to hear what’s next, and you swallow thickly, looking out the window, and then at your hands.
“i-i’m a lesbian, oliver.”
it goes awkwardly quiet. for a moment, the only sound is your own breathing, shaky and uneven, as the weight of your confession hangs in the air. you kind of feel like you shouldn’t have said it, but it’s too late— so you just wait impatiently for him to speak.
“oh,” oliver says finally, his voice quiet, like he’s processing. and then, a little louder, “oh. well, okay.”
you glance at him, your stomach twisting with anxiety. what the hell did he mean ‘well, okay?’ was this a bad idea? should you have kept it quiet?
“ollie…w-what? just okay?”
“yeah,” he says, and there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now. he leans up against the arm rest to get a good look at you, “okay. i mean, what do you want me to say? ‘oh shit, i never knew!’ like, it’s not like this changes how i feel about you or anything. you’re still you, y/n.”
his words hit you like a wave, but you can’t help but offer up a hearty laugh, even though there are tears streaming down your heated face. oliver disregards your laughter, though— he’s more worried about your ever flowing tears that haven’t seemed to fade since he picked you up.
“hey, hey,” oliver says quickly, his hands hovering awkwardly like he wants to comfort you but he doesn’t know how, “why are you crying? what’s wrong?”
“nothing’s wrong,” you manage to get out between shaky breaths, “i just… i’ve been so scared to tell anyone. i thought maybe you’d… i don’t know, look at me differently or something. i don’t even know why i thought that, considering— yeah. but…”
“girl,” he interrupts gently, laughter laced in his tone, “i really don’t care who you like. as long as they’re treating you good, that isn’t my concern at all. you’re still my best friend, and that’s never gonna change. you hear me?”
you nod, sniffling as you wipe at your face. “yeah. i hear you.”
he smiles, soft and reassuring. “good. now, is there anything else you need to get off your chest? because i’m already pulled over, so we might as well make this a full therapy session.”
you laugh weakly, the sound broken but genuine, and shake your head, “no, that’s… that’s it for now. promise.”
“all right,” oliver says, “so, let’s get you home, yeah? you’ve had a long night.”
you nod at him, returning to the refuge of your comfy spot in the backseat, your limbs stretched out and weary as you steady your breathing.
as he pulls back onto the road, you lean back in your seat, the weight on your chest a little lighter now. for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel like you can breathe, like everything is setting in stone.
୨ৎ
by the time you get home, the weight of the night feels like it’s pressing into your bones, leaving you heavy and raw. you sit up on your seat as oliver wakes you, rubbing your eyes gently, “home?”
“yeah, c’mon.” he states, grabbing your bag for you and opening your door as you step into the night. it’s cold outside, and you wrap your jacket tighter around you, facing oliver and reaching out to take your bag, “thank you for taking me home. and…for everything. you didn’t have to do that.”
“no, but i wanted to,” he gives you a warm smile, “you can always talk to me. always.”
you nod as he hands you your bag, and you sling it over your shoulder as you start to walk back to your dorm. you expect to go alone, but oliver follows, insisting on walking you to your door. and you’re too drained to argue, so you let him, your legs feeling wobbly as you climb the steps to your room, his hand hovering behind your back like a safety net.
“you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, for what feels like the tenth time, but you know that he’s being sincere.
you pause with your key halfway to the lock, turning to look at him. his eyes are wide and concerned, and you can see the way he’s itching to say more, to fix something. you give him a tired smile, “i’ll be fine, ollie. seriously. i just need to sleep this off, for real.”
he doesn’t look convinced, but he nods anyway, “if you insist. if you need anything— like, anything at all— just call me, okay? no matter what time, you know i’ll be up.”
“okay,” you promise, though you know you probably won’t. you weren’t exactly fond of the idea of using oliver as your night-time therapist, although he swore up and down it was okay. you just nod with a lazy smile, waiting for him to bid you goodbye.
he hesitates for a moment longer before finally stepping back, “well, goodnight, y/n. i love you, if you need something, just holler. and… hey, you’re brave as hell, you know that?”
he pulls you into a gentle hug before he goes, giving you a small kiss to your forehead. it’s got no romantic context behind it— oliver had always been the type to be affectionate towards you when you were down, or vulnerable. plus, he laughs afterward, and you know it’s because of your whole ‘fake dating’ ordeal, which makes you laugh, too.
you watch as he leaves, making sure that he gets to his car safe. and when he waves at you and speeds off, you twist the doorknob into your dorm, stepping inside.
it’s is dark when you enter, save for the faint glow of a lamp in the living room and emma’s bedroom’s light that shines underneath her closed door. sometimes, she’d forget to turn it off before she fell asleep, so you figured that’s why it was on.
you shut the door softly behind you, your bag slipping off your shoulder and landing on the floor with a dull thud. the silence feels different— heavy, almost suffocating, but you push it aside, determined to jump into your bed and finally go to sleep.
“so, you’re back.” a voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and pointed.
you freeze, your breath catching as you turn to see emma standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
so she wasn’t in her bedroom. or, asleep.
her arms are crossed over her chest, her red hair pulled into a messy bun, and she’s clad in one of your victoria’s secret sweatshirts and a pair of red sleeping shorts. her expression is unreadable— somewhere between anger and concern, and you really hope it’s the second one.
“emma,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, but she cuts you off almost immediately.
“do you have any idea how worried i was?” she snaps, stepping closer, “you didn’t answer my texts, my calls— nothing. and then— this shit is what blew me— oliver calls me, telling me you’re drunk at some bar? what the hell, y/n?”
your stomach twists with guilt, and you look down at your feet. “i’m sorry,” is all you can mumble. you’re honestly too tired and too drunk to deal with emma’s shenanigans tonight.
“sorry?” she repeats, her voice rising. her arms are flailing everywhere, her curly hair bouncing, and it’s clear that she’s more angry than you thought, “that’s all you have to say? you disappear for hours, get drunk off your ass, and pick a fight with billie— yeah, oliver told me about that part too— and all you can say is sorry?”
“i didn’t mean for it to get that bad,” you say, your voice cracking, “i just… i don’t know, okay? everything’s been so overwhelming, and i—”
“and you what?” she interrupts, her eyes narrowing, “decided to self-destruct instead of talking to me? i’m your best friend, y/n. you’re supposed to come to me when you’re struggling, not push me away.”
her words hit you like a punch to the gut, and tears spring to your eyes before you can stop them. you were sick of crying— it’s like that’s all you’ve doing recently, but you can’t stop it.
“emma, you were the one that was being distant from me, so i just gave you space. i didn’t know how to tell you, okay?” you cry, your voice shattering, “i didn’t know how to tell you that i’m falling apart, that i feel like i’m losing myself. i didn’t know how to tell you that i kissed billie and freaked out because… because—”
you choke on the words, your chest heaving as the tears spill over. emma’s expression softens instantly, the anger draining from her face as she steps closer. when she sees you break, it’s like she can’t even be mad at you anymore, and she rushes over to you, grabbing your shoulders softly.
“hey, hey,” she says gently, “it’s okay. you don’t have to say it all right now. just… breathe, okay? i’m sorry that i was angry with you. i understand…i was just worried. but i’m here.”
you nod shakily, trying to get your breathing under control. emma guides you to the couch, sitting beside you and waiting patiently as you wipe at your face with trembling hands.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper again, your voice small.
“stop apologizing,” she says, shaking her head at you, “i’m not mad anymore. i just… i want to understand what’s going on with you.”
you hesitate, your fingers picking at the hem of your sweater. “i told oliver tonight…that i’m….”
“you are?”
you breathe in. you weren’t really expecting to tell emma this soon— you honestly didn’t mean to tell oliver either, but you were here now, and you might as well tell your own best friend this secret that was haunting you.
“i’m…” you huff, looking down at your hands, “i’m a lesbian, em.”
emma doesn’t react right away, just tilts her head slightly as she processes your words, resting her chin into her hands as she looks at you with sweet, sparkling eyes, “okay,” she says slowly, “and… how do you feel about that? about saying it out loud? i mean— really, y/n, this is not a surprise, i think you know that.”
you laugh, “yeah. but…just thought i should let you know what’s going on with me.”
“uh huh,” she hums, a smile glued to her face, “i’m proud of you. this is a big step, honey! so tell me, how are you feeling?”
“scared,” you admit, giggling softly, “but also… relieved, in a way? like I’m finally being honest with myself. but it’s complicated. billie— she made me feel things i didn’t know how to handle, and then everything spiraled, and i just…i liked her. i’ll admit it, but— i-i can’t. i have too much to deal with, and i’m still not really all that comfortable with what i’m feeling. but it’s too late, so whatever…”
emma reaches for your hand, squeezing it tightly, “babe, you don’t have to figure everything out tonight. it’s okay to take your time. but you’re not alone in this, okay? i’m here, and so is oliver. we’ve got you. just, focus on what you need to focus on. see what happens— but don’t put too much pressure on yourself. you’re smart, and i guarantee you that you’ll figure this thing out, alright?”
emma’s words are a balm to your aching heart, and you nod, leaning into her shoulder as exhaustion starts to take over. she pulls you tighter into her side, giving you a light squeeze as you both sit there for a second, basking in comfortable silence.
“thanks, em,” you murmur, your eyes fluttering shut.
“always,” she whispers, running a hand gently over your hair, “have you told jules and naomi yet?”
you shake your head gently, still resting on emma’s shoulder, “nope. i haven’t really talked with them all that much, but it’ll come when it comes. i don’t really feel like dealing with all this at the moment. i’m just trying to make sure of my own feelings, first. y’know?”
emma takes a deep breath, nodding at your words, but she doesn’t say anything, which you appreciate. she could tell that all you needed was a little acknowledgement, and your heart smiles at that.
after a few more minutes of talking, you find yourself in your room, slipped underneath the covers as emma laid next to you, scrolling on her phone. now that you were home, she insisted that she keep you company until you sleep, just incase you needed to talk.
you hadn’t told her about the fake dating with oliver, but it seemed irrelevant right now, so you’d just save it for later.
you spend your last waking moments thinking. you felt warm at first, finally getting everything out into the air, but now you felt like you were swarming with guilt. was this what God wanted? was He frowning down at you, disappointed and confused?
but you couldn’t think about that right now, or you’d start to downward spiral again. so you just squeeze your eyes shut, attempting to finally rest.
and then, just as sleep is about to fully claim you, your phone buzzes on the coffee table, the sound jarring in the stillness. emma reaches for it, frowning as she glances at the screen.
“y/n,” she says, her voice tense.
you force your eyes open, groggy and confused, “huh? what is it?”
she holds the phone out to you, and your stomach drops when you see the name flashing across the screen.
it’s billie.
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You know what, I'm fucking done arguing with a brick wall.
Hon you can just concede, agree to disagree, and be done with it, you don't have to pretend like I'm a "brick wall" who hasn't been making well-wrought points to refute yours. I took the time to respond very exhaustively to you, point-by-point — give me a fucking break, lmao
Send my apologies to your English literature teachers for having to put up with you.
I mean several of them are dead (it's been quite a long while since I was in school), so I'm gonna stop you right there. All I'll say is: people who are really truly into literature on a professional level, such as my mentors, or myself, have a strong appreciation for deep engagement with a text. What you think of as a "brick wall" (debate, exegesis, and fondness for overlooked details), my English lit teachers held in high regard. We had a hell of a lot of fun dissecting material together. It's fine that you don't enjoy this kind of thing, but don't pretend that it's somehow a slight against you, or that my points aren't worth seeing.
Let me leave you with one thought though, honey. If this is just "reading from the text" then presumably you think Winnie and Stephen agree with your delusions?
Winnie and Stephen pretty transparently wrote Fiyero to be the Early 2000s Slightly Rebellious Male Heartthrob For the Girls to Fight Over and not much else. He's been improved greatly in the film adaptation by NOT being that, and as I've said many times, I would love if they've ended up canonizing the double agent idea in the second film; albeit, as I've explained, I think that he'd lose something if he were made too straightforwardly "good". It doesn't matter whether Winnie, Stephen, or any of the directors or actors that have interpreted Fiyero over the years, specifically "agree" with me. Theatre of all mediums lends itself especially to a panoply of readings. There is no set-in-stone "canon". I just find certain takes to be ignorant of the details of the text, and I've argued against those takes. I happened, in the process, to do analysis which spawned further discourse. But it isn't like my analysis is Word of God: it's just fun to discuss ultima facie instead of prima facie. Your reading may well be closer to prima facie in certain ways — but that's not somehow an argument in and of itself for being "correct". You and I both made our arguments and apparently mine are now left to stand as ultima facie, as you have run out of counters.
Seems awfully cruel of them to go out of their way to save Elphaba from dying at the end of the story to leave her with an oh so awful fascist soldier?
The fact you seem to believe I think of Fiyero as "oh so awful" just tells me you haven't been engaging seriously with anything I've said.
He's a fascist soldier. That is something that should be reckoned with and examined in any real analysis of his character. He isn't "awful" — I never claimed he was, far from it — and he is certainly not the first or last character to have the narrative gloss over more troubling details and implications about what was written for them. But don't come at me for pointing those details and implications out, just because you personally dislike them, lol. I'm not the one who came up with Fiyero volunteering to become a fascist soldier: take that up with Holzman, lol
Also, if Elphaba was happy to fuck Fiyero in the woods and later leave with him, she clearly thought what he did was justified given the circumstance.
Hon, it's not that deep, lmao. They boned because they're passionate people with unresolved sexual tension suddenly given an opportunity — the only opportunity — to resolve it. Elphaba was not weighing his past several years for their moral soundness whilst riding him, lmfao
And I think the biggest Animal rights activist probably knows better than either of us the about the situation :)
Perhaps she does, perhaps she doesn't. We can only speculate. All we know is that she was frightened of him, and was worried he'd bought into the propaganda against her — which is a fair concern, given how he spent those years. She's relieved to find that he hasn't succumb to the hate against her, and that he isn't trying to harm her, and... that's really all that's stated, and that's all that need be stated. It's probably the first time in years that a human hasn't been her enemy — I don't think she wants to go there and review his choices, for her own sake, and I don't blame her for that one bit. But just because she doesn't go there doesn't mean that we shouldn't. We aren't bound to the POV of any singular character: we get to study them from beyond the fourth wall as much as we want, and there's a TON of interesting stuff there.
[Wicked Act II spoilers]
[edited for tone and clarity of purpose, apologies for initial crudeness and frustration]
Okay, obviously I'm biased, but I'm gonna need the Fiyeraba shippers to please set a lot of your people straight about some things. I've seen way too many people trying to say that Glinda is just a selfish bimbo and that Fiyero is a virtuous and selfless figure more worthy of Elphaba's love. I'll set aside for now the idea of "worthiness" in this context. But let's start off with Fiyero joining the Wizard. Hoo boy...
Yes, he was initially somewhat less tolerant of the propaganda against Elphaba than Glinda was; yes, he was secretly trying to find her so he could run away with her or whatever. But honey: those facts DO NOT fully absolve his actions as the Wizard's top officer, or selfish recklessness throughout Act II. I see so many popular threads and posts romanticizing and whitewashing with "oh but he didn't REALLY join the Wizard, he just pretended so he could try to get to Elphie! It's all for love, and he sacrificed everything for her!" As if the literal captain of the literally fascist forces responsible for the oppression of Animals wasn't equally responsible for said oppression?? Hello? Fiyero really didn't think of seeking out Elphaba in ANY other way that DIDN'T involve becoming *checks notes*... the trusted leader of the troops committing all the abuses she's fighting against in the first place???? Like it's cool and all that he helped with Brrr, and it's all well and good that he planned on betraying the Wizard as soon as he found Elphaba (which took literal years, so I guess we're left to assume he was prepared to just keep doing fascism indefinitely if she didn't show up????), but uh... it's kind of concerning to how eager some of you are to make excuses for this dude volunteering as the head of the Ozian Gestapo??? smdh
He didn't accomplish anything from it either, by the way — like yeah, we get it, he did everything he did whilst silently fantasizing about running away with the Witch he was being paid to hunt. Fine. But I can't be the only one who doesn't buy that as an actual excuse???? Like, guys: nobody forced him to join the fascist army — even with crazy ulterior motives. He wasn't coerced into it; it wasn't his only choice or anything. Searching for Elphaba did not somehow compel him to go and volunteer to follow (or to give!) orders in the name of the dictator who was trying to have her assassinated the entire time. He could have just not done all that. (Genuinely so curious how the second film plans on covering that material tbh)
Glinda made several questionable decisions that can be (and have been) debated, but she is still very unambiguously a victim. Her position in the Wizard's regime was foisted upon her. There are things we can discuss, but I find that many folks need reminding that Glinda would undoubtedly have been disposed of (or worse) if she failed to make herself useful. I mean hell: she wasn't even supposed to meet the Wizard in the first place — she was only there because of Elphie. If she'd tried to resist, it would have immediately gotten her labeled the Witch's accomplice. As soon as she'd chosen not to get on the broom, her fate was out of her hands, and all available options were varying degrees of horrible.
That's not the case with Fiyero. He went to the Wizard all on his own; no one ever cornered or forced him into it. Thinking Animals are people, and having a crush on Elphaba, simply did not stop him from carrying out the regime's orders — for years. It's not clear exactly how long he's been captain at the start of Act II, but the clear implication is that he's been a soldier for most of the time skip. I've seen Fiyeraba accounts with headcanons about him acting as a double agent, secretly doing stuff to help Animals — and that's a great idea, it would indeed serve to make a lot of his actions way more palatable — but until we actually get to SEE some of that (maybe they'll add it for the movie version of Act II; we'll have to see), there is nothing in the story to suggest that. He certainly didn't do a damn thing for all those Animals who were enslaved and caged in the Wizard's palace — and we don't see a single other Animal outside of there in Act II, so as far as we know Fiyero has participated over those years in the near-total removal of Animals from Ozian society. In the name of "finding Elphaba". Not fighting for her cause. Just finding HER. For HIMSELF.
It's fine to have a ship you like, obviously — and there is genuinely a lot to like about Fiyeraba, I don't dislike the idea of them as a couple or as friends — but come on guys: please stop those out there idealizing Fiyero as somehow a clear "morally-superior" alternative to Glinda, lol. The dude had power, access, and opportunities, for years, that he could have wielded in any number of really selfless, revolutionary ways. He didn't. And I propose (apparently controversially): he simply didn't want to. And that — at the end of the day — is (much as some would like to deny it) true to his character. He always WANTED to be self-absorbed and shallow, and all his actions are consistent with that. Elphaba saw depth and discontentment in him, yes: but (and I cannot stress this enough) when given the chance, he channeled that in the wrong direction. He didn't confront that and become a better person — for the most part he just displaced and projected it onto Elphaba as an object of obsession, and put on an even thicker pretense than before.
All his actions — regardless of the complexity he has deep down — are those of a man who never gives one fuck about anything or anyone, except (kinda sorta) Elphaba. But even then: at no time does the care he has for her seem to extend to caring about any of her wants or needs outside of sexual validation from him, or how she might feel about his actions, or indeed the impacts of those actions upon her, her cause, or anyone or anything else. I don't think it should be all that controversial to say: he doesn't think through the wider repercussions of anything he does — thoughtlessness is just one of his core character traits. He doesn't think ahead or see meaning in anything outside of what can temporarily excite him, in the moment. I think people place a little too much weight on Elphaba clocking him with regard to his internal pain, and seem to expect (understandably of course) that she is not only right, but moreover that he will grow from that in a positive direction, based on her influence.
But he doesn't. If anything, we get a surprising inverse: he pretty much proves her wrong. Not to say he didn't have hidden depth and all that, like she said: but his hypothetical heart of gold proves not to really amount to much in practice. He doesn't grow out of his shallowness and his self-centeredness: he grows into it in a way that he hadn't quite yet in school. Where once he was only masking an internal listlessness, after he's been cracked open by Elphaba he decides to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow, not just coasting by. He performs in new ways — as a soldier, eventually as a "fiancé", etc. — but by Act II we meet a Fiyero who has staked the last remaining shred of humanity in him on the vain pursuit of the only object of his desire that has ever been unavailable to him, and firmly chosen to say to hell with everyone and everything else.
When put to the test, Fiyero sacrifices Glinda, the Animals, and all else that Elphaba actually cared about, to pursue his own unresolved crush from college. Mostly to get in her pants, really — as harsh as I'm sure that sounds. But let me be frank: that is literally all he ever accomplishes in the show. He gives her dick one time, and one of his castles, and that's it. That's the culmination of his years trying to find her — years in which he actively worked as one of the stormtroopers (or even the one commanding them) committing untold crimes against Animalkind (who, again, it seems have been all but erased from Oz by Act II): y'know, the very crimes Elphaba sacrificed her life to try and stop????? He spent the most important time of his life — of his own free will — being a fascist soldier, but he "did it for her" somehow, so according to some, it's perfectly fine. Heroic, even. Yikes??
But let's make something very clear (since my original version of this post caught a lot of flak, including slurs and other rudeness):
I like Fiyero. I find his role extremely interesting (I could do a whole dissertation on him, but I'm especially a fan of the way his proving Elphaba's assessment of him wrong presents a fascinating parallel and contrast with Glinda, which I think is lost on a lot of people). But PLEASE stop with all the misguided Glinda slander and idealization of Fiyero. By all means, thirst! But don't give me all this bullshit about him deserving Elphaba more, or being super deep, or being really principled or noble or whatever else. He does have layers, and quite intriguing ones, but his insides are straw — he isn't meant to have some deep, overwrought emotional core or motivations; he has passions that he acts upon when given the chance. That's it. And that's fine. Actually kind of refreshing in a story rooted in simple children's fantasy but rife with intensely complicated personalities. Fiyero makes it his mission to represent denial of depth and embrace of raw, spontaneous desire — and I for one love that, and wish others appreciated it.
And in all seriousness, shipping wars aside: by the end of the story, it's Glinda who is ultimately vindicated, and has — for all her faults — made the necessary choices to fulfill Elphaba's wishes, bring down the regime, etc. And all that despite herself. She's miserable: not just because of the mistakes she made, but because of her correct moves as well. Fiyero is simply not — and could never be — that person. And that's okay! Like I said: I am not anti-Fiyero. Fiyero's willingness to throw it all away for the sake of sheer, overriding passion is a huge part of what people like about him, of course — and it's an obvious factor in the attraction between him and Elphaba, because she has her own flavor of that impulse as well — but I'd actually argue that it's not romantic, it's his fatal flaw. And thematically that's fantastic! But I just don't believe that it somehow means he "deserves Elphaba more" because he "gave up his life for her" or whatever. In part because NOBODY truly "deserves" Elphie tbh, not 100% (and I question anybody who claims otherwise), but ultimately because I don't accept the idea that his fleeting acts of passion make up for all the shit leading up to them (or even proceeding after them tbh). At least Glinda managed to do what Elphaba always wanted in the end — but I would die on this hill even if Gelphie didn't exist.
You don't have to agree with my analysis of Fiyero and his choices, relationships, etc. — that's fine. What isn't fine is trying to portray Glinda as some kind of spineless traitor whore for the Wizard and Fiyero as a conscientious hero who earned Elphie through self-sacrifice. That's just not the story that was written. It's WAY messier and more interesting than that.
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[Jumping over to EP 3 as I was taking screenshots from it for future posts. I actually have noticed this a few times from watching it, but I would like to point it out as well. I love how these four paired up in this episode. You have Scratch and Shrike who are constantly at each other's throats, while you have Beebs and Scritch who are getting along.
I love how Scritch stays to Beebs' side for the rest of the episode. Scritch sticks with Beebs because right now, Beebs is the leveled headed one here. He's the voice of reason. Scritch is just as tired of this crap as Beebs is as well.
Scritch never says a word, but I love how helpful he is. How concern he is for their wellbeing but for Beebs' as well. Giving him little guidance and help to safety for all of them.
I love this shot too! You can see Scritch is concerned for Beebs. How much energy Beebs is using to keep them alive, but to see that he is doing it damaged as well. I love how Scritch looks to him with concern and wants to help, rather than complain or cause any further problems unlike his brother, Scratch. He's looking at his cybernetic arm and wondering how that affects Beebs and how it can be fixed.
Its hard to tell, especially since this shot is focused on Shrike, but you can also see in the background that Scritch is helping Beebs at pulling away the green veins from the console. Then you have Scratch, who is, doing nothing...
It is funny for him to let Beebs know that well, the ship is heading straight towards the star/sun. I feel like that was already a known fact, but I love how Scritch still has to point it out to Beebs. Like in this moment, he looking to Beebs and asking with those eyes "what are we going to do?"
I think about it now, but, I also think that maybe the reason why Scritch sticks to Beebs' shoulder is because he knew Beebs would listen to him. His brother and Shrike as of right now are being irrational. They're trying to prevent from you know- burning up into a star, but still are fighting with each other while doing so. Scritch would probably have no way to be able to get their attention, especially Shrike who is not the best at reading others anyway...
Beebs is a rational guy and right now, the one thinking the most rational... So I love that Scritch reaches for Beebs' attention because he knows that he can trust Beebs to make the right decision. I mean man, don't blame Scritch- I would trust Beebs with my life too...
And of course, at the end of the episode. They're out of danger finally, where they are gather to say goodbye to Us- and of course get Scratch to apologize for well, you know...
I love how in the end, Scritch decides to help Beebs one last time and at least patch up his cybernetic arm so that Beebs can play his guitar to communicate with Us. Gives it a little pat to make sure its sticking on tight. I love how its green as well, the same green that matches' Scritch collar/backpack. I love this little friendship that these two seem to have.
I mean really I love the dynamic between the four as well, this episode really captures the 'brother relationship' that they all share. Which once again, is something else I would love to talk about in another post!
Scritch you are such a precious little bean. Thank you for keeping your brother Scratch in check...
Also-
These silly moments I captured too. Lord these two are such polar opposites from Beebs and Srcitch and I love that. I love the dynamic between them so much.
Also if you noticed any grammar issues- this is what happens when you write a post at 3 AM, whoops!]
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Ooooh here's a fun ask, though I think I can guess a few of the roles: if you've seen Leverage, what roles do you think the ROs would take in a heist crew? I feel like Ardent would be the hitter, obviously, and Kara or Isaac would be the grifter. M as the hacker, mayhaps? Cam feels like he'd be a fun thief. I can't really pin G down though...anyway, just thought it'd be a fun thought experiment!
I've not got to watch it yet! It's on the list though. ❤️ Cam - Definitely "The Thief". He will always leave the others on edge though. Cam's eyes tend to be bigger than his belly, so you know he's planning something. He tries to keep it on the down low but he'll end up telling MC/G about it. (And then get yelled at for coming up with such a scheme that could get him caught.)
💙G - Alright, choosing a role for G is a bit hard. I'm thinking the one that fits the most is "The Mastermind". They're pretty methodical, tend to overthink. Would easily have three back up plans in case Cam decides to try something.
💚 Kara - She would like to be a hitter like Ardent, but he refuses to help her. So she would probably flit between a few roles if she can't find one she really likes. Probably joining Isaac, even though she is holding out for punching Arde- I mean, picking up some combat skills.
💛 M - Yeah, Mar is definitely "The Hacker". They already enjoy tech, and they could go on and on about the specs of something. (like talking to Cam about the many cameras he uses.) Probably argues with Ardent about not breaking things he finds on a mission so that M can reverse engineer. (For funsies.)
💜 Isaac - "Grifter" works. Isaac would probably have a few long cons going (gotta keep that influx of cash.) Would likely need someone to remind them to step back sometimes because Isaac can easily go down a rabbit hole.
🖤 Ardent - Oh yeah, 100% "The Hitter". He's been in fights before, and people tend not to mess with. Especially since Ardent is big. Big arms, big thighs, big... Anyways, perfect role for Ardent. I think he would take really well to a form of Martial Arts.
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A vampire Benny and werewolf Benny! Can you make more or more stories spiraled off what you have? Those left me thirsty for more. Especially, werewolf Benny! 🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️❤️
Hunter's Moon
Pairing: Werewolf Benny x f!reader (established in Closer, linked in notes)
Word Count: 2100+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.
Notes: Anon, I had some vampire Benny ideas too but since you loved werewolf Benny in Closer, I decided to do a little one shot of those 2!
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**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Benny Masterlist
Fic this one is set in: Closer
“You seem restless tonight baby, are you ok?” I place my hand on his thigh as it continues to bounce.
“Hhmm? Oh. Yeah. I’m fine.”
I shift my head up from where I had been laying against his chest to look up at him. “You know I know when you’re lying, right?”
“That’s not a bond thing.”
“No, that’s an I know you thing. What’s up?”
He sighs and looks down at me, kissing my forehead. “Just a hunter’s moon tomorrow night. Has me all jittery.”
“What’s a hunter’s moon mean to wolves?”
He’s quiet for a few moments. “It’s uh…well we sort of change and um…look for a…mate.”
Ah. “Oh. Like on a hunt?”
He nods. “Yeah I guess. But I already have you. It’s just…hard not to feel the pull.”
I sit up and shift to face him on the couch. “What pull? What’s it feel like?”
Benny takes a deep breath, his eyes unfocused as he thinks. “You know how I always feel more compelled to shift on a full moon?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Well…it’s like that but a lot more intense. The desire to…do you really want to hear all this?”
I smile at him and take his hand, squeezing it. “It’s you. And I want to know all of you.”
“Fair enough.” He clears his throat. “Like I said it’s like a regular full moon but more intense. The desire to…chase and find a mate to…”
“Make pups with?”
Benny can’t help but chuckle. “Exactly, yeah. It doesn’t always end in pups though. Often it’s just about a bond. Finding a mate. Even if it’s for that one night. But I have you. I’ll be fine. Just gotta shake it off.”
Shake it off. When has that ever worked for werewolf things?
“Can I help?”
Benny shakes his head. “I don’t think so. But thanks, sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips and I don’t know if it’s our bond amplifying it, but I can feel him practically vibrating off the couch.
“I’ll be home for dinner tomorrow. Gotta stop by Bill’s to make sure that tractor of his is still working. And then I’ll just…lock myself in the basement or something.”
“You sure you don’t want to join your pack?”
Benny shakes his head. “Nah. I want to be with you.” He pushes my head gently back towards his chest as we resume watching whatever is on the tv, my brain rapidly working on a plan to help him.
—----
My heart pounds in my chest as I run through the woods, grateful for the many acres that came with my homestead when I took the vet position. I had stowed the atv a bit back, opting to go on foot the rest of the way. Any moment now, Benny should be getting home and finding my note I’ve left him on the table.
Come and get me.
I know he’ll find me and probably fairly quickly, considering our bond and his heightened senses. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun. I press my back to a tree trunk, my chest rising and falling rapidly while I try to catch my breath. In the distance, I hear a howl, making my bond marks feel warm.
He’s coming.
I give myself a few more breaths before I shove off the tree, heading towards the top of this hill that’s slowly trying to kill me. This will be nothing for Benny, however, his large, padded paws will scale this like it’s nothing. Still, I manage to struggle to the top, my hands on my knees as I look around. The moon is bright and full, casting a faint glow around the small clearing ahead. I head through the trees and just make it into the clearing when I hear him, large and heavy paws thudding the ground up the side of the hill. Shit, that’s a lot faster than I anticipated. But then…silence. As I stand in the clearing, looking towards where I came from, I see nothing. I know he’s around, I can feel it. I can feel the tether between us. The wind stills, the night animals growing silent, making my beating heart sound extra loud. If I wasn’t bonded and completely in love with Benny, I would be terrified out of my mind right now.
A flash of movement from the corner of my eye and I’m running in the opposite direction, pushing my way past the trees on the other side of the clearing, further into the woods. I can hear him behind me, shoving past trees, panting hard, a howl emanating from him. He’s making all of this sound so I hear him on purpose. I know because I’ve seen him move nearly silent. I see another clearing up ahead and I push myself a little harder, a stitch in my side nearly taking me out. But then I’m through the trees, running towards the other side. A sudden, soft nip at my ankle sends me flying, my hands slamming into the ground just inside the clearing. I turn as quick as I can, still on my ass, hands behind me as I crab walk backwards, my eyes scanning the trees.
When I’m a quarter of the way into the clearing, I see him. Benny’s wolf form is large and formidable, nearly 9ft tall when he’s not hunching over, the moonlight shining brightly against his golden fur. He slowly slinks into the clearing, his eyes deadset on me. His massive form somehow squeezes past the last tree when the air around him starts to shimmer and move, like too many things happening at once. Benny, in his gloriously naked human form, doesn’t miss a step, his eyes dark with lust as he stalks towards me. I’m momentarily stunned by how gorgeous he is. Then I remember I’m supposed to be running from him. I scramble up and turn, running as fast as I can for the trees. I only make it halfway across the clearing when his fingers tangle in my hair, yanking me back against him, his other hand snaking around my front as he exposes my neck to him.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” His voice is low, his breath fanning down across my exposed neck.
I try to struggle against him, halfheartedly because fuck I am so turned on. “Trying to get away from y-you,” I’m still trying to catch my breath, but it’s difficult to focus with him pressed against my back, hard and wanting.
“Well now, we can’t have that sweetheart.” Benny grips my dress and in one swift yank, rips it in half from my body, my bra quickly following. I try to move but his grip in my hair tightens and I go nowhere. His hand slides in the front of my panties, a low growl coming from his throat when he feels how wet I am. My panties are quickly tossed aside, joining my dress somewhere in the night.
“Run,” he whispers in my ear, releasing his hold on me. I do as he says, running as fast as I can towards the trees again. But then I feel him behind me and I trip, putting my arms out to stop myself from slamming into the ground. But I don’t hit the ground, Benny’s arm winding around me to soften my blow. The second my knees hit the ground he’s on me, pressing his body over mine. He leans over me, engulfing me with his entire presence, nipping at my ear.
“Mine,” he growls, sitting back up, digging his nails into my hips as he pushes himself inside me, pulling my hips back at the same time. I cry out, my fingers gripping at the grass and dirt as he fucks me from behind, fast and hard, my bond markings feeling like they’re on fire, but the kind of fire that goes straight between my legs. His grunts and skin on my skin are the only sounds echoing across the clearing.
He pushes me flat into the dirt, my hips angled just enough for him to continue fucking into me. His hands trace down my body, gripping my wrists and putting them above my head. But then he laces his fingers with mine, checking in with me and I squeeze his hand back, letting him know I’m ok.
“Fuck!” He grunts in my ear, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he cums, warmth filling me up as his hips sputter. He drops his forehead to my shoulder, breathing heavily for several moments. He presses a soft kiss to my shoulder before sliding out of me, pulling away from me and allowing me to breathe.
I just stay in that position, breathing heavy. But then he touches me, a long finger sliding up me until it expertly locates my clit, gently massaging it. I moan into the ground as the fire quickly builds. When he bites my asscheek I come, gasping and panting as he works me through it. I come down, breathing heavy and manage to sit up, turning to look at him and notice him getting hard again. He looks at me looking at him and the air around him starts to shift again, his wolf form seemingly popping out of nowhere. He takes a massive step towards me, using his nose to push me on my back. He shifts my legs open with his nose, baring me to him and the night. He lowers his head and licks me gently, and it’s only after the third pass of his tongue that I remember it has healing powers. A few licks later and he’s done, the soreness I felt a moment before completely gone. The air changes and there he stands again, in all his naked beauty. He offers me a hand and pulls me up, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back, his eyes dark and lustful again.
“Run.”
—----
I don’t remember how many times we fucked that night, or how we got back to my house, only that I slept until late afternoon the next day. Benny, with his superhuman hearing, comes in the room with a tray of food, a tentative smile on his face. We hadn’t really exchanged words last night, letting both of our primal sides come out instead.
“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” He stands next to the bed awkwardly, like he’s unsure of himself.
I gesture to set the tray down on the nightstand and he does. I beckon him to me and his eyes light up, immediately sliding into the blankets. He lays his head on my bare chest, his hand coming up to idly play with my nipple. Which does nothing to quell the heat between my thighs.
“I’m great, Benny. Really. Did…how are you?”
He turns his head to look up at me, his eyes bright blue and wide. “I didn’t hurt you did I? I tried not to. I healed you after. But that moon just does things, and fuck you’re so hot, and I just couldn’t stop. It was like…”
“Like a pull you’ve never felt?” I finish for him.
He nods. “Yeah. Like I couldn’t not be inside you.”
“I felt the same way. I needed you to be with me, inside me, whatever. I just needed you to touch me.”
“It was probably the moon. It makes us all feel like putting babies in our mates. You probably felt it because of our bond.”
“Or maybe I felt it because I have a fucking hot ass husband who loves to turn me on.”
“Hhmm…” he says, his hand sliding down between my legs as they part for him, a gasp coming from me as he starts to slide his finger up and down me. “Is that so?”
“Mmhmm, y-yeah,” I whisper, my breathing getting more rapid as he swirls his finger around my clit.
“Well if that’s the case, sweetheart…” Benny removes his hand and starts to slide himself between my legs, winking at me before he disappears under the sheet.
“Today is all about you, sweetheart.” His voice is slightly muffled by the sheet.
“Benny, you don’t have to-”
“I was talking to this pretty pussy here. Now, let me make up for all the thrusting I did last night.”
—----
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It’s Nice to Have a Friend - Jschlatt
Part 7
Masterlist
Reader has been lonely their whole life. They have never been in a relationship. They don’t understand why no one will love them but their best friend, Schlatt has always been in love with them.
The first part of this part is fluff then the next part is just smut, so mdni. 18+ only. This is also the official last part, so thank you for the support on it. Also I know Reader has been gn up to this point but they are now afab for smut purposes.
You and Schlatt have now been dating for a little over three months. It has been pure bliss and everything has been going great. You still have kept your relationship only between the two of you. The most you have done is make out with some touching, but you felt more was going to happen soon.
Today is your birthday and Schlatt was doing whatever he could to spoil you. He surprised you with tickets to see Wicked on broadway. He requested that you both dress up so he could make the night extra special. Before the show, Schlatt takes you out to a fancy dinner at a steakhouse. He tells you it’s not as good as Boa, but it’s definitely up there.
As you sip from your wine glass, you look over at Schlatt who is smiling at you like an idiot. “What?” You ask him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Nothing. You’re just so beautiful and I can’t believe you’re mine,” he tells you. “Are you excited for the show?”
You nod, excitedly. You had seen your fair share of Broadway shows living in New York, but watching one with Schlatt made you very happy. “Yes I am. Thank you for everything. You know you don’t have to splurge on me just because it’s my birthday.”
“Don’t worry about it, Toots. I like spoiling you. You deserve it. It’s your twenty-fifth birthday. It needs to be special.”
You roll your eyes, affectionately at him. After you both finish your meals, you make your way to the show. Once you find your seats, you realize that he bought you the best ones. “Jay,” you let out, surprised.
He just smiles at you. “Let’s sit,” he says, grabbing your hand in his.
The show starts and you watch in awe at the performers. You feel Schlatt’s eyes watching you, but you ignore it. His thumb rubs the back of your hand. During intermission, you finally look back over at Schlatt. He has that same dumb look on his face. “Isn’t it amazing? They are so talented. I’m so ready for the second act,” you tell him.
“Yeah I’m actually enjoying it. But the view beside me is much better to look at,” he says.
You slap his arm slightly. “Shut up and watch the show. You spent too much money to not actually watch it. You can look at me anytime.” You squint your eyes at him in a slight scowl.
He kisses your temple. “As long as you're happy, I’m happy.”
You roll your eyes as act 2 starts. You realize that Schlatt’s eyes are actually focused on the stage. You smile to yourself, happy that he seems to be enjoying himself.
After the show, you get in his car to head back to his apartment. Ever since you started dating, you have spent most nights at his. Yours mainly just acts as a storage and holds some of your clothes. You already have a space in his closet and the majority of your hair products and makeup are in his bathroom.
On the ride home, Schlatt gushes over the show. He suggests that you go see shows more often. Especially if it means seeing you happy. You’re honestly shocked about how much he enjoyed it.
When you finally arrive back at his apartment, you can feel the sexual tension starting to build. Once you walk inside, his lips immediately connect to yours. “As much as I like this dress, I think it would look better off,” Schlatt groans in your ear.
You think tonight is the night and you’re ready. This will be your first time, but you trust Schlatt. He pulls away from you. His brown eyes somehow look even darker. “Take me upstairs,” you command.
Schlatt picks up as if you weigh nothing. You squeal slightly when he picks you up. He carries you to his bedroom before placing you on the bed. His lips immediately press against yours. You can already feel his bulge growing as he rubs against you. He deepens the kiss by exploring your mouth with his tongue.
This is how most of your nights have been. You make out for what feels like hours. When Schlatt can’t take it anymore, he goes to take a shower to relieve himself. You pull away from him slightly. “I’m ready. I want you to fuck me tonight,” you tell him.
Schlatt groans. “Are you sure?” He asks.
“Yes I’m sure. I’m ready and I want you. Bad.”
He kisses you again. He reaches behind you to unzip your dress. It slowly falls down your body. Schlatt helps you fully remove it and throws it across the room. He takes in your body, enjoying the matching set you put on. “These are really nice. Too bad, they will be coming off soon,” Schlatt says, kissing your jaw down to your chest.
You help him take off his coat jacket then work on unbuttoning his shirt. He does it for you. Schlatt throws it all off including his tie. You rub your hand softly over the bulge you see forming in his pants. He lets out a soft moan. “Can I suck you off? You may need to help me through it though,” you tell him.
“Fuck, toots. You’re going to be the death of me. Kill me if I ever say no to that question.”
You laugh slightly, helping him out of his tight trousers. You can’t even see him fully, but you know he’s huge just from the outline in his boxer. You start panicking a little bit imagining it inside of you. Schlatt seems to sense your anxiety, so he kisses you. You smile against his lips.
As he kisses you, he slips off his boxers. You pull away and look at him in awe. He’s huge and you want him in your mouth immediately. You kiss the tip before taking it in your mouth. You start sucking lightly, making sure to cover your teeth. The room fills with Schlatt’s moans. You take more of his cock in your mouth. You start speeding up a bit. You enjoy hearing Schlatt’s moans turn into whimpers. You go down further on him until you start coughing a bit.
“Don’t hurt yourself, baby. Just take it slow. If you need to stop, you can,” he comforts you.
“I’m okay,” you tell him, taking him back in your mouth.
“Use your hands if you can’t fit it all. Spit on them or I can grab some lube to make it feel good,” he tells you.
You spit on both your hands before using them to rub his cock. You put your mouth back on him. You start speeding up again, getting the hang of it. Schlatt’s hands go to the back of your head making a ponytail out of your hair.
After a little while, he pulls you off of him. “I was about to come. If I come, I’ll be knocked out,” he tells you.
Schlatt helps you out of your bra. As soon as it’s off, his mouth attaches to one of your breasts. He takes his time with you. You feel yourself soaking your panties and you’re getting impatient. You want him inside you already. After he’s done with your breast, he kisses down your stomach to your panties. “Damn, Toots. You’re soaked already and I’ve barely touched you,” he teases.
“I know. Can you just fuck me already?” You plead.
“Be patient. This is your first time, so I’ll have to prep you first. I’ll fuck you when you’re ready, but don’t be a brat.”
He quickly rips your panties down your legs. He kisses your thighs, completely ignoring your wet core. “Jay,” you beg. You’re not sure how much more you can take.
“I’m only being nice since it’s your birthday,” he says, before finally delving in. He wastes no time sucking on your clit then licking long strips down your center.
The sounds that come out of your mouth are foreign to your ears. The pleasure is too much that you’re scared you may come in seconds. You feel Schlatt’s finger start to tease your hole. He finally inserts it softly while continuing to suck on your clit. You throw your head back as he goes a bit quicker. When he thinks you’re ready, he inserts another finger. He starts scissoring to open you up.
“Fuck you’re so tight. I don’t think I’m going to last when I get to finally be inside you,” Schlatt tells you as you continue to moan.
“Jay,” you groan when his mouth goes back to your clit. He continues to work you open. You start worrying you’re going to come soon, but he hasn’t even been inside you yet.
After what feels like hours, he pulls his fingers out. “I think you’re ready. I’m going to go slow. It is going to hurt at first, but I’ll try to be as soft as I can. There may be a mess, but we can clean it up. Are you ready?”
You nod at him. You’ve been thinking about this moment for a while now and it’s finally happening. As it’s your first time, you’re not sure what to expect but it’s Schlatt. You have immense trust for him.
He leans over to grab a condom from his nightstand. He opens the packets and delicately rolls the condom on. Schlatt lines himself up. You feel like you’re being ripped apart by his girth even though only the tip is in. You feel a tear slowly fall down your cheek. He kisses your forehead as he pushes in a bit more.
“Fuck,” you yell out, your eyes feeling up with tears.
“I know, baby. It will only hurt for a bit. Let me know when I can move and I will,” Schlatt tells you. He moves the hair out of your face and pecks your lips softly. His rough fingers wipe the stray tears from your eyes.
When you get used to the feeling inside you, you nod. “You can move,” you tell him.
“I’ll go slow. Tell me if you want me to stop.”
Schlatt slowly pulls out of you then pushes out again. He keeps doing that before he picks up his pace. It starts to feel pleasurable again. You clench around him, wanting to keep him close.
“Fuck toots. If you keep doing that, I don’t know how long I’ll last,” he groans. He presses his lips to your as he goes faster. Schlatt’s hands rest on your hips to give him better leverage. You hold on his forearms and start matching his pace. You’re not sure why it took so long to do this.
“Jay. Fuck,” you moan against his lips. There’s so much you want to say, but you’re at a loss for words.
He groans against your lips. Your noises meld together. You can tell he’s just as close as you are. “I’m coming,” you yell out.
Schlatt continues to fuck you through it until he reaches his climax. “(Y/N),” he moans out. Once he finishes, he slowly pulls out of you. He takes off the full condom and disposes of it. He goes into the bathroom to grab a towel. You look down to see the mess you made. You’re scared when you see blood, but you were sure you weren’t supposed to start for another week.
Schlatt comes in with the towel. “I’m sorry,” you start, looking back at the mess.
“It’s okay. That’s why I brought the towel to clean you up,” he tells you. He comes over and starts to wipe you up.
“I didn’t realize I had started. If I knew, we could have waited.”
Schlatt starts to chuckle slightly. “That’s not your period. Have you ever heard the term, ‘popping the cherry?’”
“Ohh,” you say, realizing what happened. “That’s gross. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I knew it was going to happen. It’s just part of it.” Schlatt walks over to you and kisses your temple. “How about you hop in the shower and I’ll change the sheets?”
You nod, getting up. You struggle a bit, so Schlatt helps you on your feet. “I love you,” you tell him, pecking his lips.
“I love you too. Go hop in the shower. You’ll feel a lot better. Afterwards, we can cuddle and I’ll play with your hair.”
“How about after you change the sheets, you join me? It is my birthday after all,” you wink at him, making your way to the shower.
Your twenty-fifth has been your best birthday yet and it’s all thanks to Schlatt. You’re insanely glad he confessed his feelings to you months ago. Being Schlatt’s best friend was amazing, but being Schlatt’s partner was somehow entirely better. You look forward to more moments together. But for now, all you can think about is him joining you in the shower for round two.
A/N: omg my baby is finally finished!! Thank you for the constant support!! I have many things planned so stayed tuned. I also got inspired with it being reader’s birthday as my 25th birthday is coming up soon! Lots of love!!
#chuckle sandwich#jschlatt#jschlatt x reader#jschlatt fanfic#youtube#it’s nice to have a friend#friends to lovers#jschlatt smut#final part
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𝕾𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖑
In my restless dreams, I see that town.
Silent hill.
You promised me you'd take me there again someday. But you never did. Well, I'm alone there now... Waiting for you... Waiting for you to come and see me. But you never do. And so I wait, wrapped in my cocoon of pain and loneliness. I know I've done a terrible thing to you. Something you'll never forgive me for. I wish I could change that, but I can't. I feel so pathetic and ugly laying here, waiting for you... Everyday I stare up at the cracks in the ceiling all I can think about is how unfair it all is... The doctor came today. He told me I could go home for a short day. It's not that I'm getting better. It's just that this may be my last chance... I think you know what I mean... Even so, I'm glad to be coming home. I've missed you terribly. But I'm afraid, James, I'm afraid you don't really want me to come home. Whenever you come see me, I can tell how hard it is on you. I don't know if you hate me or pity me... Or maybe I just disgust you... I'm sorry about that. When I first learned that I was going to die, I just didn't want to accept it. I was so angry all the time and I struck out everyone I loved most. Especially you, James. That is why I understand if you do hate me. But I want you to know this, James. I'll always love you. Even though our life together had to end like this, I still wouldn't trade it for the world. We had some wonderful years together. Well, this letter has gone on too long, so I'll say goodbye. I told the nurse to give this to you after I'm gone. That means as you read this, I'm already dead. I can't tell you to remember me, but I can't bear for you to forget me. These last few years since I became ill... I'm so sorry for what I did to you, did to us... You've given me so much and I haven't been able to return a single thing. That's why I want you to live for yourself now. Do what's best for you, James.
James... You made me happy.
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Ichi the Witch ch.18 thoughts
[Oh What a Feelin' When We're Fightin' on the Ceilin']
(Topics: character analysis - Desscaras/World Hater, speculation)
Oh yeah, baby, this is what I've been waiting for!!! Now this is a ceiling battle!!!
Where Ichi needed to literally knock himself out just to take out the first wave of World Hater's Lancemen, Desscaras was able to do the exact same thing casually AND with style
Iskandar is an absolutely sick Magik design, both beautiful and terrifyingly nonhuman, and it's clearly not even Desscaras' strongest move! She's playing with World Hater, aiming to humiliate and torture him while she systematically searches out his trial, so there's no way her opener is her best move, especially when you consider it doesn't tie into her title as the Abyssal Witch
I said a while ago that Monegold's summary of Togeice was more tell than show and that it didn't really give a good impression of just how skilled Togeice really was since Nishi didn't provide a frame of reference. This chapter, though, is a very effective case of show-don't-tell, as we get a direct comparison between Desscaras, Ichi, World Hater, and even Togeice
Tipping the Powerscales
Togeice was stated to have 16 acquisitions to her name, which, without an established average, must be assumed to be a pretty high number, certainly above average. It was stated in such a way that it didn't seem like Togeice was a record holder, more like a reasonable deviation or two from the mean
Desscaras, on the other hand, when asked directly how many Magiks she's acquired, simply states "who knows? Lost count." Not only does this mirror World Hater's nonchalant dismissal of how many humans he's killed, but it illustrates both Desscaras' skill and her mentality regarding it
As she says this, we can see twenty-five magic stones floating around her, thirty if we assume the ones on her scabbard didn't join the rest. She has Togeice beat by at least nine, but the implication is that there are more we still aren't seeing
And to Desscaras, this is perfectly natural
She's the best, after all. The world's greatest, most powerful Witch. Why wouldn't she have a ton of acquisitions to her name? For her, acquiring a Magik isn't even a source of pride anymore, it's just another rock to add to the pile
If my read here is correct, then that goes back to what I said back in ch.2: Witches don't respect Magiks as sentient beings. If not for the fact that she needs to do so in order to use a spell, Desscaras doesn't seem the type to remember the name of a defeated foe, at least not with how she's presenting herself here
As I see it, this could lead to two very interesting angles. Either Desscaras represents everything that's wrong with the current Witch system, or...
This is a bluff
Poker Face
As I've stated repeatedly, World Hater is an actively dispassionate individual, going out of their way to hide their expressions and executing their goals without emotional investment. When Desscaras cites that World Hater destroyed her home, World Hater retorts that her emotions are worthless, as they nihilistically view the world as destined to fade into nothingness
This is a hilarious thing for the World Hater to say, since they explicitly include "hatred" in that list of worthless emotions, but again, they've never referred to themselves as World Hater, that's just a name that Mantinel gave them
Anyway, Desscaras' detached ignorance of her own accomplishments perfectly mirrors World Hater's ignorance to their own atrocities, which could either be a way to show how similar the two of them are or an explicit dig at World Hater's attitude meant to evoke a response
If the former, then Desscaras is a negative role model for Ichi, one that he needs to surpass to prove that he is correct for how he values life. If the latter, and Desscaras reveals that she does, in fact, know exactly how many Magiks she's acquired and remembers all of their names, faces, personalities, trials, etc., then we'll know that she's not the strongest Witch just because she has the most acquisitions, but because of the dedication and care she put into every single one
Either way, her taunt in this moment makes her feel every bit as powerful as she's been purported to be and then some
And World Hater definitely feels it too
Time To Get Serious
The fact that World Hater has been pushed far enough to be concerned with how many Magiks Desscaras has acquired is already proof enough that they acknowledge her strength, but even without that, it should be clear that she has the power to back up the threat that she's going to take her time experimenting
After all, she's leagues above Ichi
As Desscaras said, Ichi was able to earn World Hater's direct attention with one spell. If World Hater truly didn't view Ichi as a potential threat, they would have just let him fall into the forest and be trampled by the Lancemen without paying him any head
Instead, they deliberately lift Ichi back up, with the intention of warping him with their own hands. How else could they be absolutely sure that he's dead?
Again, if Ichi could register as a future threat, then Desscaras must register as an immediate threat. And if that's true, then there's no way that World Hater is going to just let her have her way. No, if she wants their trial, she's gonna have to earn it
However, there is one flaw in Desscaras' premise: she believes that World Hater tried to kill Ichi out of fear, but we know better. We saw World Hater's smile last week: they were excited that someone might be able to figure out their trial, they just had to suppress that feeling to focus on the task at hand
With Desscaras, though? They're not going to be able to afford to be casual about this. World Hater is going to need to put their everything into this fight: both their power and their emotions
This chapter was all about giving Desscaras her shine, the Good News phase, but next chapter? It's World Hater's turn: the Bad News phase
I don't think Desscaras is going to die here, but she's not acquiring the World Hater either. No, World Hater is going to show us just how Big of a Bad they intend to be, and what we're going to have to look forward to down the line
Until next time, let's enjoy life!
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