#@everyone how do i make this gayer

[ava-dreel-thinks]

The mean girls musical movie is somehow gayer AND straighter at the same time. Also severely mid. Really hilarious highs, really cringey and awkwardly delivered lows, it averages out to be a 6/10 methinks.

[xoluvx]

kiss it, bite it; b.eilish

love the anon who requested this one 💚

"Is it gayer than lunch?" You glanced at Billie who was blushing profusely. She laughed and placed her hand on your thigh. She still hadn't answered your question. In fact, she'd been avoiding it for weeks. You knew she was working with Charli, but she hadn't uttered a single word about her verse.

"Nod if that's a yes," you didn't take your eyes off her. She simply hung her hand over the steering wheel, smiled goofily, and squeezed your thigh before shaking it.

She wasn't going to fold.

When you finally got to set, Billie held your hand as you walked together. The curiosity was eating at you, you couldn't stop biting on your bottom lip.

"Why are you so nervous?" Billie asked turning to look at you. She tugged at your chin so you'd stop biting your lip. When she noticed the indentations of your teeth, she rubbed your lip gently trying to get the blood flowing. Your blood was flowing alright. She'd mentioned a mountain of underwear on the car ride. Let that sink in: a mountain of underwear.

"I'm not nervous," you buried your face into her arm and she chuckled placing a hand behind your head, kissing the top of it.

And you weren't nervous. But what you should've been was prepared because you were currently standing to the side listening to the track, watching your girlfriend voice words that were making you extremely flustered and what was she saying about pulling them to the side and getting all up in it?

Were you hearing that correctly? You tried to stifle a cough thanks to almost choking on your saliva. You fanned your face with your hand. Was the temperature rising? Good god that's why she didn't want you to hear her verse beforehand.

That little -

"Cut," Billie stepped behind the viewfinder looking at the playback. She pointed at something, her voice was low as you tried collecting yourself. Or maybe you were still processing the lyrics. All you know is that you jumped a little when she came to your side, startled.

"You okay?" she teased brushing your cheek, tilting her head and feigning innocence as if she hadn't just told everyone the type of underwear she very proudly bought for you.

"It's gayer than lunch," you whispered, your voice trailing off as you stared into the distance. Frozen once again. The lyrics ran through your head like a complicated mathematical equation.

Billie's laugh brought you back to earth and you turned to look at her, mouth open waiting for an explanation.

"What?" she shrugged.

"That lacy black pair with the little bows?" you raised your brow pursing your lips. Still waiting.

"The ones I picked out for you in Tokyo," she whispered booping your nose before grabbing your hips. You groaned hearing it come directly from her mouth. This woman was painting all sorts of pictures in your mind and you were not in the position to act on them.

You looked at her with big eyes, your lip tucked under your teeth again. Billie noticed the change in your breathing and dug her fingers into your hips pulling you closer.

"Don't you have to get back?" you asked noticing the way your voice dipped low, your eyes dropping to her lips as she licked them.

"We need to do a few more takes and we’re waiting for Charli," Billie replied pushing her pelvis against your body urging you to groan again, your hands now gripping her arms.

"How long-" you asked fluttering your lashes unable to control the urge to kiss her right here, right now. To get down on your knees for her.

"Come," she whispered, squeezing your ass before taking your hand. Oh, you intended to.

She glanced at her surroundings before dragging you to an empty part of the set. A house of sorts. Maybe this is where they were filming next. Your thoughts were interrupted when her hands found your hips, fingers digging into your jeans, lips fervently trapping yours in a kiss.

If you weren't so fucking horny right now you'd be a lot more cautious about where you were, but her lips were tracing your jaw and her fingers were unbuttoning your jeans. You breathed a sigh of relief when she cupped your pussy. You had a time constraint and you both knew it.

Billie smiled against your neck, her tongue rotating on your skin before devouring. Her finger pushed your underwear to the side, running a finger between your folds. You moaned wrapping your arms tighter around her neck until you felt her finger enter your pussy.

"Oh my god," you hummed tossing your head back giving her ample access to your neck. Her tongue ran along your throat and under your chin before finding your lips again. They messily joined in a battle for dominance, tongues tussling. Your hands losing themselves in her hair.

Two fingers deep and you moved your hips, grinding against her hand as your whimpers fueled Billie's fire.

"Fuck, hold on" Billie whispered. Her voice hoarse. She removed her fingers and you whined in response. She tugged at your jeans bringing them down. You kicked them off as she slipped off your underwear placing them in her back pocket.

She pushed you against the wall. Through hooded eyelids, you watched as she got on her knees. Your lip found its favorite place, tucked between your teeth as she raised your leg groaning at the sight of your wet pussy.

The previous two fingers that'd inhabited your pussy found their way home and you arched your back pushing your back off the wall as her tongue joined the reunion.

The flat of her tongue pressed on your clit as her fingers moved steadily, filling you so gloriously. You could no longer stifle your moans when her tongue started to rotate on your clit. It moved with purpose. Up and down. Side to side. Until you were putty in her hands.

Your hands fisted her hair pushing her face closer to your cunt as the pace of her fingers increased. She was knuckles deep in your pussy when her lips wrapped around your clit, sucking.

"I need you to cum baby," she mumbled against your pussy. Her voice rippled through your body, tingles running down your legs. You'd forgotten where you were. Why you were here. Your world right now only consisted of you, Billie, and that marvelous wonderful tongue of hers.

"I'm almost there," your voice cracked as you pulled on her hair. Her own moans were sending shivers up your spine. Her fingers were slowing, but they were so deep in your pussy you didn’t need her to move. But she did. She moved them in a ‘come here’ motion pressing on your g spot. The walls were caving, your heart was racing. Her tongue was lapping.

She grabbed your ass with her free hand pulling you closer to her face as she worked her tongue in unimaginable ways. You shut your eyes feeling the heat build and build until you were in flames.

“I’m-“ you breathed heavily fisting her hair.

“I’m gonna c-cum,” you were out of breath and surprised you were able to announce your orgasm. Your legs were quivering as you slid down the wall, but Billie held the back of your thigh, trying to hold you up.

Your walls collapsing around her fingers, she could feel you throbbing, walls wet from your release. Her teeth grazed your inner thigh, biting down gently before soothing the area with her tongue.

You winced as she pulled out her fingers and groaned when they disappeared between her lips. Her plump, kissable, fuckable lips were discarding the proof of what had happened in this makeshift house.

Billie wiped her fingers on her jeans before grabbing yours from the floor. You weakly stepped into your pants as she pulled them up. You helped her button them still processing what’d just happened. She stood and kissed you slowly letting you get a taste of yourself on her tongue. You hummed against her lips letting her tongue slide into your mouth. You wrapped an around her neck as she held your chin.

“I wanna try it. Bite it. Lick it. Spit it.” She recited the words like a chant as she kissed your lips, along jaw, up your neck, and your earlobe. You felt the spark in your belly ready to ignite again.

“Let’s go,” she tapped your hips pulling you from the wall you were leaning on.

“Wait, let fix your hair,” you muttered flatting the pieces of hair that’d previously been laced in your fingers. You brushed your fingers through her hair. Fantasizing and thinking of her tongue and her silky strands at the tips of your fingertips and how you wanted more.

“Come on,” she snapped you out of it tapping your ass. Her fingers laced with yours. You whined trailing behind her. She turned back to look at you cheekily when the sun hit your eyes and you groaned.

You weren’t going to survive the rest of this shoot.

A few minutes later the music was playing again and Billie's lips were moving, those lips that were previously sucking and wrapping around your most sensitive parts. She was hopping off the tractor and there in her pocket were your underwear. They hung from her pocket like she'd picked them up from the mountain of underwear and decided those were her favorite and worthy of screen time.

In your lust struck trance you hadn’t noticed her sneak them away. Or realized you hadn’t put them back on. You felt your body flush again. The heat rushing between your legs.

You were entranced, caught under her spell. She played it up for the camera, but your chest was growing tighter by the second and your underwear…wait. Scratch that. Your jeans felt really uncomfortable now.

You swallowed and looked around hoping nobody was noticing your sexual frustration. But nothing went unnoticed by Billie.

She looked directly at the camera as you stood behind the viewfinder. For one of the takes, she took your underwear from her pocket holding it in her index finger. She sung along to the track ‘kiss it, bite it, can I fit it?’ playing with your underwear.

For a millisecond she glanced at you. You felt her looking beyond the camera at your fragile state before placing the underwear back in her pocket.

She wasn’t leaving those on set.

They were coming home with her. And you were coming too. Again and again. Til the moon descended and the sun rose.

*part two*

[hyypnotix-writes]

Part 2

~ hiya! I'm really nervous about posting this, but I couldn't not at least try to give you a second part after the response the last one got! ~

~ I really appreciate everyone reading it and enjoying it as much as you did ..I hope this one doesn't ruin it for you! ~

~ I think this one's around 13k words. so again ..it's a long one, if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ there’s quite a lot of story before Alexia makes an appearance, sorry ..but she does eventually show up! ~

~ I promise to put more of her in the next part if any of you end up wanting one ~

~ I’m really worried this will disappoint a lot of you, but at least you still have the first part to go back to, if nothing else! ~

~ I really hope you're able to enjoy it even just a little bit, and thanks again for loving the first part so much! the response was very overwhelming and I've loved you all reaching out to tell me that you liked it ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

~ Part 1 ~

________________

One night.  

One perfect night.  

That’s all it took.  

One perfect night to throw your whole damn life into disarray.  

One perfect night, that’s lead to endless subsequent nights, spent tossing and turning on your own, replaying the memory over on a loop in your mind. It’s only been about a month, but it feels like an eternity.  

A never-ending, exhausting cycle of yearning and confusion.  

It was the most welcome distraction from your ex-boyfriend’s evil escapades, you’ve not really thought about him at all since. 

It should have set you free, broken you out of the chains of mundanity. It showed you a whole new world, a world of women. It gave you a new perspective on life. Unlocked a realm of brand-new possibilities all ready and waiting for you to venture, and yet, you don’t want to explore any of them.  

It's not that you haven’t tried.  

You’d have been an idiot to assume that it’s only her that can make you feel like this. That would be giving her an awful lot of credit. Yes, she was your first woman, but that didn’t mean that she needed to be your last. The way your mind and body reacted to her, maybe you could have been slightly gayer than you thought, but it doesn’t really look to be the case.  

A pair of lesbian sisters always seemed incredibly unlikely to you, and your sister’s already called dibs on the label. Maybe it’s the mere existence of your younger sister that eradicates the possibility of any real queerness in yourself. That’s probably how the handing out of sexualities works, right? 

It’s a working theory, and one that you seem to be proving the accuracy of.  

You’ve been to a few more clubs since your entanglement with the Spanish mystery. Only returning back to that specific one, once. It gave you a headache just stepping through the door. She was still everywhere in the room, her spirit living in the walls. You barely managed to stay inside for even a second before it became too much for you, sending your heart and mind racing.  

You took yourself back home, reminiscing every single kiss you’d shared with her on that fanciful journey back to her hotel together. Looking up at the floor she had been staying on, as you hastily walked past it on your own.  

Even the nightclubs that aren’t haunted by her ghost, haven’t yielded much greater success with you. 

You paid a visit to a smaller bar, a fair few nights after your perfect one, and had found a woman interested in you. More than interested. She was pretty, and friendly enough. She was flirty and bought you a few drinks. She didn’t try to play it weird by aiding you in your consumption of alcohol. There was no intriguing salt and lime foreplay. She was far more straightforward, far less irritating.  

Maybe that’s why it didn’t work. Maybe she was too plain. Maybe she was too simple and easy for you to understand. Or maybe it’s the fact that when she pressed herself against you in search of a kiss, an alarm bell rang out inside of your head. You suddenly found yourself all too aware that she was a woman, and you simply no longer wanted to follow through with your curiosities.  

It doesn’t help in your confusion, why the femininity of one woman can leave you feeling more certain of your straightness, while another’s femininity has you still helplessly pining after her.  

It’s not like you were under any illusion with the Spanish woman. You were entirely aware that she was also a woman, and it wasn’t off putting to you at all. You enjoyed her being a woman. She smelt nice, she tasted nice. Her body was beautiful, and her lips were soft, and it doesn’t make any sense that she’s allowed to put a yearning in you that no other woman is able to satisfy.  

That does seem very typical of her, though. She really was very cocky and frustrating.ﾠﾠ

Until she wasn’t, of course.  

Then, she was just sweet and considerate. Cautious and careful. Flirty and undemanding. She took you back to hers and she still had no expectations from you. She was still willing to let you walk away. Maybe you should have.ﾠﾠ

You knew even then that you should have.  

It was daft of you to follow after her. Foolish to lose yourself with her, spending the night together, giggling under the sheets. Sharing kisses as you drowned yourselves in each other. Learning her body, every mark, scar and freckle, and committing them all to your memory. Tracing her curves and her tattoos and discovering what it is that makes her tick.ﾠ

She was patient, and understanding, she wasn’t in a rush with you. She spent the whole night exploring with you. Studying your body, wanting to learn all the things you liked her doing, and the things you really liked her doing. She turned what could have been a terrifying, embarrassing, disaster of an experience, into the most incredible encounter of your life.  

She brought you more pleasure than your pathetic ex-boyfriend had ever managed to give you in your whole 5-year relationship, in less than 5 minutes of her having your clothes off. She had the most unholy of noises spilling from your lips with her fingers and tongue inside of you, and she wasn’t exactly quiet herself, in letting you know when you were doing the right thing with her.  

She was intoxicating, exhilarating. She was life-affirming.  

She’s a far more dangerous addiction to you than alcohol could ever manage to be. You’ve never been tempted by drugs before, but you can’t even imagine the high from them being able to compete against what she’s done to you.  

It was just one night.  

It was one perfect night.  

________________

Living back with your younger sister isn’t exactly where you saw yourself being at 26. Your London flat had started feeling a little too big for you, without a traitorous arsehole of a man invading your space. So, you invited her to move in with you, not wanting to have to give up your dream property just because he had decided to try ruining your life. You needed help with the rent, and she had gratefully accepted.  

You didn’t necessarily expect her to also invite her idiot new girlfriend into your home with her. That wasn’t really part of the deal, though you didn’t explicitly tell her that she couldn’t. You can’t really blame her. If you were able to spend every waking moment of your life with ‘A’ right beside you, you’d jump at the opportunity headfirst.   

It still doesn’t aid in the dispelling of your confusion. There’s no jealousy when you see them together. Her girlfriend does nothing for you, none of her girlfriends ever have. You both have decidedly different tastes in women. Your sister’s taste is entirely questionable, yours is perfection.  

You haven’t mentioned your Spanish predicament to your sister. She’d probably laugh at you for it, call you tragic, and embarrassing. Tell you everything you’ve already been telling yourself on repeat in your head. She wouldn’t be very helpful; she very rarely is. She’s your very annoying, smart-arse of a little sister, who couldn’t possibly give you any decent advice. She’s 2 years younger than you and she's an idiot.  

She’s not the one who’s still hung up on a stranger after over a month, though. It’s rarely taken her longer than 24 hours to get over someone she’s been with. She’s not the one who’s been questioning herself every night. She’s never questioned herself at all. You’re fairly certain her very first thought, straight out of the womb was about another woman.  

She didn’t really have to come out to the family at any point, she kissed her first girl when she was 8. Always been a bit of a Casanova, your sister. A walking stereotype of a lesbian. Short, brightly coloured, undercut hair, quite a few piercings, heavily tattooed. She’s obsessed with women’s football, always watching re-runs of ‘The L Word,’ and overwhelmingly insistent in trying to prove to you that Taylor Swift is also secretly gay.  

Your sister’s certainty in her own sexual identity isn’t something that’s ever irritated you before. Not when you were always so sure of yourself, too. You appreciated her confidence. It was admirable, given the way people can be with her. She’s your self-assured little sister, who isn’t great at confrontation. So, you support her whenever anyone tries to tear her down.  

Now, however, this too-late-in-life existential crisis you’re struggling with, has you wishing she’d try to be a little bit more questioning herself. Her surety and cockiness about her sexuality is suddenly the most prominent attribute of her personality, and it’s really starting to drive you up the wall.  

It’s a rare evening where it’s only the two of you at home together. You don’t really know where her girlfriend is, and you don’t much care. You only feel responsible for one annoying lesbian, the one who shares your surname.  

She’s being rather antisocial with you, playing video games alone in her bedroom, and you’ve just finished tidying up the dining table after sharing the dinner you cooked for you both. You’re not exactly sure how you’ve found yourself solo parenting your stroppy little sibling when you’re really not much older than her yourself, but there you go.  

Maybe you should try speaking to her. See what she can possibly offer you by way of sapphic guidance. If she’s going to continue having her nuisance girlfriend living here rent-free, she should at least try giving you something to make it worth your while.  

You walk straight through to her bedroom and collapse your head onto her stomach on the bed. Making sure to do so with just enough force behind it to ensure you manage to leave her winded and interrupt her gaming. She grunts under you, and you earn an overly aggressive smack to your shoulder for achieving your goal. As, whatever other little child she’s playing her game against, has just managed to score past her.  

“You’re a twat!” She scolds, and you backhand her face to shut her up. She raises her fist above your stomach, and you flinch, bracing for impact.  

“I have a question!” You shout, before she has chance to attack.  

She pauses her lifted fist above you, and reluctantly agrees to a truce, providing your question is of interest to her. “What?” She groans, and you fiddle with your fingers, trying to find the right wording.  

“Why do you like women?” You ask, your face grimacing as you await her response.  

It isn’t your smoothest ever phrasing, not your wittiest form of delivery. It’s honestly, rather annoyingly, not the most subtle line of questioning. Despite it not being entirely to the point, your sister isn’t stupid.  

“What?” 

Oh ..maybe she is! 

That’s not going to be super helpful with your impending interrogation.  

“Why not men?” You suggest, still trying not to be too blatant. “How did you know you liked women?” 

“I looked at one.” She tells you, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Why?” 

“Do you find every woman attractive?” 

“No, but I find enough of them attractive to sense a pattern.” She explains. “Why?” 

“And you’ve never been attracted to a man? Not even tempted?” 

“No. Not once. Why?” 

“Never ever?” 

“Y/N!” 

“I was just wondering.” You tell her quickly, drumming your fingers on top of your stomach.  

“About women?” She queries. 

“About ..why women. What it is about them.” 

“Aside from the obvious?” She snickers, nudging your arm.  

You quickly bounce your head back against her stomach winding her again.  

“Stop doing that!” 

“Stop being annoying!” You warn her. Your frustration at yourself getting the better of you.

She tries to push you off of her, but you mess with the analogue sticks on her controller, and she turns her focus back to salvaging her match. “You really are a twat! Get out!” 

“I need your help.” 

“I don’t care!” 

“..I’m sorry.” You mumble, and she scoffs at you, pushing you off of her bed unceremoniously.  

You can’t say you blame her, you’re a constant threat to her in that position, it’s too big of a risk. You enjoy bouncing your head and ruining her childish little game far too much.  

“Why do you like men?” She counters, and you find yourself stuck for words as you sit on her floor.  

It’s the question that’s been floating around your own head for a little while now. You’d never thought about it before. You just were. You had crushes on them all throughout your childhood, you’d had meaningless boyfriends in your teens, you met your bastard ex at university and figured that was it.  

You didn’t need to question why you were attracted to them, it just always made sense.  

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, letting out a groan as you grab one of her pillows and bury your head into it.  

“What’s going on?” She asks, as she prods at your shoulder with her foot.  

“Nothing. I was just—” 

“Thinking about women?” 

“No!”  

It isn’t really a lie, you’re not thinking about women, just the one. The one woman who’s been invading all of your thoughts for the past 30 something days. The one who won’t let you sleep properly at night, who won’t let you focus completely at work.  

The one woman who refuses to leave your head for even a second just to let you rest, to let you breathe, to let you remember what life was like, prior to her entering it and recklessly setting fire to everything, before she ran away from you and disappeared into thin air.ﾠﾠ

“I kissed one.” You confess, trying to suffocate yourself with her pillow.  

This really does take her by surprise. You can hear her movements on top of the mattress as she turns her game off and pulls her pillow from you with a rather startling urgency. There’s great confusion on her face as she looks at you. She really must think you’re very boring if that’s enough to render her speechless. Imagine her reaction if you admitted to all the other things you did to the Spanish enigma.  

“You kissed a woman?” She asks, frowning at you.  

You’re not entirely sure why she looks quite so cross about it. You’re not trying to steal her thunder here. You’re not about to start trying to catch up with her numerous exploits of female companions.  

“Mhmm.” You mumble in reply, smoothing your hair back from over your face.  

“Why? For a man?” 

“No! I just wanted to ..I thought it’d be fun.” 

“..and ..was it?” 

“Mhmm.” 

She looks at you with a very distinct air of incredulity. It’s a rather annoying look, weirdly condescending. She doesn’t believe you. Why she thinks you’d bother lying about it, you really do not know. You’re not that desperate for a story to tell her.  

It’s almost offensive that she thinks you’re so incapable. You didn’t just kiss a woman. You went down on one, you had your fingers inside of her. You evoked moans from her, she scratched her nails down your back. You’re not some virginal prude. You’re not inept. It can’t be that shocking and inconceivable that you could share a single kiss with someone of the same sex.  

You were right, telling your sister was pointless. She’s offered you no assistance and no support. She’s a useless little waste of space and her horrible girlfriend is an advantage-taking little freeloader.  

“Thanks, very much! This was really helpful!”  

Your words are laced in sarcasm as you slide yourself up away from her bed with a sigh, throwing your middle finger up back in her direction as you exit the room, and slam her bedroom door shut behind you.   

You slam your own bedroom door shut behind you too, just in case she hadn’t picked up on how pissed off you are.  

You’re not really pissed off with her. She doesn’t know what’s going on inside of your head. You’re pissed off with yourself, for still being all entirely far too consumed with a woman whose name you do not know. Who wouldn’t even bother sharing her profession with you. It isn’t fair.  

You collapse headfirst onto your bed and let out a rather guttural groan into your duvet. You’re very frustrated. Your brain’s a mess, your sexuality’s up in the air, and you allowed yourself to picture, far too clearly, your memories of having sex with the gorgeous Spanish woman and now that ache that she’d put inside of you is back.  

There’s a knock at your door, and you’re not in the mood. You grab your duvet and burrito yourself in it down to the foot of your bed.  

“Y/N?”  

You don’t even grace your sister with a response. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s a swine.  

No, but she really is a swine, as you can hear her turning the doorknob and just walking right into your bedroom anyway. She’s really, unbelievably terrible at reading social cues.  

“Do you want to come to Spain with me next week?” 

See what I mean? What the hell?  

That’s a very serendipitous little offer, though. You didn’t even mention to her that the woman that you kissed was Spanish.  

Did you?  

She can’t have worked that out by herself. That would be insane. She’s already proved herself to not be the sharpest tool in the shed. That wouldn’t make any sense. What an intriguing little invitation.  

It’s very embarrassing that just the mention of the country sends a shiver down the back of your neck. All this instant adrenaline running through you, as if she’ll just be waiting for you there as soon as you land down in a random Spanish airport. Yeah, that seems likely!  

Spain’s not the biggest country in the world, but it certainly isn’t small. You’re not going to accidentally stumble into her again on the beach, or in a marketplace. She’s definitely not going to be staying in the same hotel that you’d be in.  

It shouldn’t have your heart racing like this. The chances of finding her again are so infinitesimally small, so extremely impossible, so overwhelmingly unlikely ..but you do stand a better chance, if you’re in the right country.  

“Next week?” You mumble under the sheets, playing it incredibly cool, as you try to ignore the way your heart’s started thumping at a thousand beats per minute.  

“Yeah.” 

“I thought you were going away with your girlfriend?” 

“..we broke up.” 

Shit. She would make this all about herself.  

You wiggle yourself free of your duvet cocoon and open up your arms for her to crash into you. She might be a useless little swine, but she’s your useless little swine. “Are you okay?”  

“Mhmm.” She grumbles, as she starfishes herself on top of you.  

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, you’re not. You never liked her.” 

“That’s not true.” You protest half-heartedly, kissing the side of her head.  

“I am fine ..I broke up with her.” 

“Well, thank fuck for that!” 

“See!” She laughs, rolling off the side of you. “You hated her!” 

“She was horrible!” 

“You could’ve said.” 

“You wouldn’t have left her if I told you to. You’d be getting bloody married to the girl. Twat.” She giggles defencelessly next to you on the bed, because you’re absolutely right. She has always been a contrarian little thing. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah. I’ll find someone else tomorrow.” 

“Unbelievable.” You chuckle, shaking your head as you push her away. “You can’t just give me her ticket. Did she not pay for it?” 

The embarrassed little look on your sister’s face is all the wordless response you need. Her girlfriend never paid for anything. She really was an advantage-taking little freeloader.  

“Where are you going in Spain?” 

“Barcelona.” 

“Why?” 

“Football.” 

“Oh! Give me a break!” You exclaim and roll down away from her back to the foot of the bed. “Why are you going all the way to Spain just to watch some football? You can bloody watch it here.” 

“It’s the Champions League!” She informs you excitedly, and you can’t even pretend to match her enthusiasm. “Chelsea’s playing Barcelona.” 

“Woo.” You respond flatly, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. “You watched them play together today, didn’t you? Why are they so bloody obsessed with each other? Even I know there’s more teams than that.” 

“It’s the second leg..” She starts explaining, but none of it means anything to you, and you really just can’t bring yourself to care.  

Going all the way out to Spain to be stuck inside a stadium with thousands of screaming fans? What sort of holiday is that? You don’t care about Chelsea’s success or failure. Your sister’s dirty crush on their star-striker is just another one of her many celebrity infatuations that you can’t make any sense of.  

You don’t want to sit next to her as she gets herself all hot and bothered watching women run around a football pitch. You don’t even enjoy watching men do it, you have no interest in watching women.  

“No. I’m good, thanks.” You tell her, dismissively.  

“Please? We can do more than just watch the football.” She offers, pouting pathetically. “You have to come with me! I’ve just been dumped!”  

“No, you haven’t!” You remind her, laughing at her useless attempt at guilt tripping. “And you haven’t really left me much time to negotiate with work.” 

“You work too hard and you’re due some time off! Your boss isn’t going to refuse you, just bat your eyelashes at him. The filthy pervert.” 

“Hm.” You mumble, drumming your fingers over your stomach as you think.  

She isn’t wrong, about you working hard, at least. You do like to bury yourself in your work. You enjoy your job, and the harder you work, the more you earn. You haven’t had time off in a while, and your boss is unlikely to say no to you, you are his favourite employee. You don’t agree that it’s because he has a crush on you, you get good results for the company, and attract lucrative clientele.  

If batting your eyelashes could get you back in the arms of your Spanish one-night stand more easily, though, you’re not above flirting with him to get you there. You could take a few days of leave, go off to Spain, and possibly run into the woman who’s been living inside of your head.  

It’s such an incredibly remote possibility. An absolute stab in the dark chance of finding her. She probably isn’t even in Barcelona. You’re not cultured enough to be able to pin her accent to a specific city. She’s just Spanish. There’s much more places in Spain than just Barcelona. Barcelona isn’t even the capital. Maybe she’s in Madrid, Valencia, Marbella. She could be a party girl living on the island of Ibiza, you had originally found her in a bar. You don’t get a body like hers drinking yourself senseless every night, though.  

What if you do find her, and she wants nothing to do with you? There was only ever the promise of one night together. You already pushed your luck by spending the rest of the morning with each other, she doesn’t owe you anything more. It’s unlikely that she’s been spiralling quite as pathetically as you have. She’s not going to be fending off a sexuality migraine.  

You undoubtedly won’t have been the absolutely mind-blowing experience to her, that she was to you. She’ll have had sex with countless women. She definitely enjoyed herself with you, that much you’re certainly sure of. You can’t fake every bodily reaction to someone, but the rest of it could have been for show. The display of heartbreak afterwards.  

So, maybe she’s an actress, that would certainly make sense. It would explain why she had money, and why she had a company paying for her hotel. Maybe that was her little ‘business trip’. Perhaps she was in London promoting a Spanish movie. Maybe the entire thing was all a performance, and you fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.  

Either way, stalking her in Spain would be far too pathetic. Even if she does want you to find her, it’s so desperate and needy of you to go all that way, and if she doesn’t want you to find her, you end up looking insane. Travelling to Spain, to possibly just show up right there on her doorstep? What a terrifying thing for you to do to the woman.  

But what if it’s a sign? 

Your clueless little sister, inviting you all the way to Spain, with absolutely no idea that the woman you’re harbouring all of these confusing emotions for, lives there? Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s the universe trying to get you back together. Maybe she didn’t fake it, she does feel the same, you’ll find her in Spain and spend the rest of your lives together.  

Please. Behave and be so goddamn serious with yourself. You sweet and simple, delusional little fool.  

“The woman I kissed was from Spain.” You inform your sister thoughtfully, and she sits herself up on your bed to frown at you.  

“You’re still going with that?” 

“Why don’t you believe me?” 

“You’re straight. Straight straight straight.” She points out, with such an incredibly annoying inflection to her voice, it makes you want to bang your head against the wall. “You’re also 26. You were in love with an ugly bastard for 5 years and you’ve never shown an interest in a woman before.” 

“I hadn’t met her before.” 

“Gayyy!” She giggles, and you give her an almighty clack on her arm with the back of your hand, to wipe the smug little smile from off her face.  

“Go with the woman you’re hooking up with tomorrow.” You instruct her. “I’d be a nightmare to watch football with, you’d have to keep explaining things to me.” 

“I don’t mind doing that.” 

“Do you have no other friends to go with you?” You laugh and she pouts dramatically again, shaking her head. “You’re a lonely little loser!” You tell her with a smile.  

“Is that a ‘yes’?” She asks, rolling her eyes at you.  

You take in a deep breath and let out a very heavy sigh. 

What’s the worst that can happen?  

She’s already completely upturned your life. It couldn’t make things any worse for you. Whether you’re able to bump into her or not. You’ll either find yourself some peace, lounging in the Spanish sun, or you’ll be left in exactly the same position you’re in now, but with a much healthier glow to your skin.  

You could even find yourself a Spanish man while you’re out there.  

Mm.  

It’s really not a good sign for your heterosexuality, that that’s no longer an appealing option to you.  

“If I can sort it with work,” you reason, “yes. I’ll come to Barcelona with you.”  

She lets out an embarrassingly girly squeal and crashes her head against your stomach, with just enough force behind it to manage to leave you winded.  

“Twat! I’m making no promises about going to the game, mind. I’m just coming for the tan.” 

“Maybe your ‘Spanish lesbian’ is also a fan of football.” She encourages  

“Mhmm. I’m pretty sure she is.” You admit contemplatively. “Is that an entry-level of requirement for lesbianism, then?” You ask, rolling your eyes. “Because if that’s the case, I really can stop questioning myself.” 

________________

Booking time off work really is as easy as your sister thought it would be. Maybe your boss does have an inappropriate crush on you like she suspects. 

She’s very excited about having you for company, and she tries to educate you on all of Chelsea’s history, the players’ statistics, and their personal lives, all before you go on your little trip together. It really does just go right in one ear, and straight back out of the other. You’re not fussed on the facts and figures; it’s not why you’re going.  

There’s not enough room in your brain to care about the ins and outs of Sam Kerr and Kristie Mewis’ relationship. You’re not interested in the fact that Chelsea currently have 6 WSL titles, and are going for their fifth-straight one, and you really aren’t bothered that the semifinal’s first leg match against Barcelona ended in a draw.  

That is a fair amount of information for you to have retained already despite not being interested. Your sister really has been going on at you, you’re almost a footballing expert.  

Touching down late in the morning in Barcelona, you can’t pretend there isn’t a tiny part of you that’s letting yourself get a little carried away with dreaming. You’ve played through enough countless scenarios in your head of running into the Spanish wonder again back in London, of course your mind’s racing with the possibilities in Spain.  

You drop your bags off at the hotel your sister’s booked for you both, with the intention of heading back out to explore the city together. It’s a peculiar looking building, bright red, oddly shaped. She really never has been one for subtlety, it’s the perfect sort of accommodation for her.  

She insists on wanting to have a look at the Olympic Stadium before the big match, as well as seeing the state of Camp Nou’s renovations, and you really can’t indulge her any more than you already have. You probably will end up joining her for the game tomorrow, but you’re absolutely not walking around the outside of football grounds for fun.  

You’ve seen the exterior of Stamford Bridge more than your fair share of times, Wembley, the Emirates. There’s not that much difference between the lot of them, and they’ve never really been your favourite form of modern architecture.  

So, you agree to go your separate ways for your first afternoon in the city, you’ll meet back up with each other tonight.  

Playing tourist around the streets of Barcelona on your own, is quite an exciting little experience for you. You’re not very worried about getting lost, despite not speaking too much Spanish beyond the basics. Your hotel’s a distinctive looking building, it’s not going to be super difficult to find your own way back to it.  

You get a taxi further into the main hub of town and you’re able to mosey about with a rather unrestrained confidence, turning down tight alleyways and strolling aimlessly along multiple cobbled streets. You manage to find yourself being comfortably led astray, by allowing nothing more than just the warm gentle breeze to guide you as it blows against your body.  

It turns into a more casual exploration of the more authentic side of Barcelona away from most of the tourist hotspots. You have no real idea where you are, and you’re quite enjoying the small rush of adventure.  

A coffee is what you start craving, and you’re not exactly limited by options. Every other building on the peacefully quiet backstreet you’ve found yourself on, seems to be a tiny café. You could start ip dip doo-ing all the individual offerings, but that’s putting far too much consideration into it. You decide to go for the smallest one, the most unassuming. The best coffees always come from the places that aren’t trying to market themselves to any foreign tourists.  

A little bell rings out as you step through the door and the barista almost jumps out of his skin at the sight of you, he clearly isn’t used to getting anyone other than his regular patrons. You offer up your friendliest of smiles and a quick ‘hola’ to show him that you mean no harm, and you tap your finger gently on the countertop as you inspect the board behind his head.  

Choosing the littlest coffee shop might have been a tiny mistake because absolutely everything on the menu is written in what you can only assume, is a rather confusing variation of Spanish. You can’t back out now, the barista already has an adorably excited look on his face at having someone new in his little shop, you can’t break his heart like that.  

You study the chalk written on the board for entirely far too long, in the hope that the words will slowly start translating themselves for you. It doesn’t work, obviously. So, you take a punt at a random one of them, with the rather daring assumption that you haven’t just ordered yourself a troubling batch of Spanish poison.  

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you surely do not know. It’s recognisably ballsy of her, almost rude.

Her words echo in your ears, as time stands still around you. You’d recognise that voice anywhere, with that unmistakable, and entirely enchanting, cocky little tone to it.  

You can’t really have found her so easily. Life’s never been that kind.  

You can feel your heart clattering around in your chest instantly. Like it’s trying to escape from your ribs, to go off and say hello to hers, all by itself. Your chest’s rising and falling intensely as your breathing shallows and picks up pace.  

It can’t be her; it can’t be. This city’s just absolutely full of Spanish women.

She holds out her card right over you to pay, gently resting her arm down onto your shoulder, and you’ve definitely seen that tattoo before. The ‘11’ printed on her wrist.  

She’d refused to explain the meaning when you’d asked her about it. She wouldn’t give you the backstory behind any of her tattoos. It was too personal; you weren’t allowed to know.  

She thought you might have really fallen for each other if you both started sharing too much information about yourselves, and you only had the single night to spend together.  

“It would be too painful.” She had reasoned with you.

That was very clever thinking on her part. She absolutely managed to prevent you from having an awful lot of heartache and suffering about the whole thing, by letting you know absolutely nothing about her..ﾠ

You still can’t bring yourself to turn around and look. Even though you know it must be her. It can’t be likely that there’s multiple Spanish women that have branded themselves with that specific number on that specific part of their body. Surely to god.  

“..gracias.” You manage to choke out very shakily, in little more than a whisper, still facing forward.  

You have to turn around at some point. You can’t very well drink your coffee on the tiny little counter right in front of the barista when you can’t even have a conversation with him. Just staring at him, silently, neither of you able to speak each other’s language? That would freak him out! You’ll find yourself back on a plane headed for England before you know it, with a restraining order hanging over your head.  

Grow up and turn around. Just turn around.  

It’s her. It has to be her.  

The barista accepts the woman’s payment method with a familiar little smile back at her, and she carefully retracts her arm from over your shoulder slowly. You can smell her perfume on her wrist as it wafts back past the side your face. You recognise the scent, and you find yourself following it round you like a lost little puppy, your knees almost giving way beneath you.  

You didn’t accidentally stumble upon her at the beach. It’s not a Spanish marketplace. She definitely isn’t staying at the same hotel that you’re in.  

You’ve found her, while getting yourself lost. In the tiniest little café, on an unnamed, tumbleweed backstreet, right in the very heart of Barcelona.  

There’s a wide smile of disbelief on her face. Which is hopefully an indication, that she isn’t terrified of you being here, she hadn’t faked her feelings, and she, much like you are with her, is a little overwhelmed to see you.  

“Hi.” Is all that drops out of your mouth, as your mind goes blank at the sight of her.  

“Hi.” She says back, with the exact same breathlessness as you, her voice cracking ever so slightly.  

“….Hi.” 

“You’ve already said that.” She reminds you, and she’s clearly able to bring herself back to her senses far more quickly than you are, because there’s that charming little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips again.  

You’re not really sure which one of you instigated it, you both just sort of ended up colliding into each other, gripping at the material of each other’s clothes. It’s a very desperate hug. Even more so than the one you shared outside of the hotel elevator. You melt into each other, merging yourselves together like two corresponding puzzle pieces.  

It’s an embrace, holding not just the 12 hours of curious devotion between you, but over 30 days' worth of frenzied yearning. It has you both clinging to each other with everything you have, as it defies everything you came to accept as truly achievable, that heartbreaking belief in you, that this reunion would never really happen.  

It’s an impossible hug, and it’s one that neither of you want to pull away from. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumble against her, clinging to her shirt as she buries her head in the crook of your neck.  

“I think it should be me asking that question.” She tells you, chuckling. “I have far more right to be in Barcelona than you do.” 

“This is where you live?” You ask. “You’re from Barcelona?” 

“Mhmm.” She murmurs. “Mollet del Vallès.” 

There’s really no reason for that to be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. It’s only a place name. It’s a good job she didn’t spend much time speaking Spanish to you back in London, you really would have been like putty in her hands.  

“What are you doing here?” She questions.  

“I thought you might want your sweatshirt back.” You joke casually, and she loosens her grip on you slightly so she can face you.  

“Do you not want it anymore?” She asks, furrowing her brow as she studies your face. 

There’s a clear look of uncertainty in her eyes, a small sense of worry, and you do feel mildly guilty for teasing her. “I was hoping ..maybe I could swap it for another.” You smile. “It doesn’t really smell like you anymore.”

She doesn’t allow you to feel guilty for too long. That small air of arrogance that’s always threatening to escape her, does so, in a predictable little smirk at the implication.  

“You’ve been wearing it that much?” She asks you proudly, and you push your tongue against the inside of your mouth as you roll your eyes at her typical display of cockiness. She carefully closes the small distance between you both again, gently pressing herself flush against you. “Does it smell of you?” She whispers in your ear, sending a ripple of goosebumps down the side of your neck. 

“Mhmm.” 

“Mm. Maybe I could be persuaded to make a trade, then.” 

She’s impossible for you to resist when she’s like this. It’s still an intriguing talent she has, evoking such a physical reaction from you, by doing hardly anything at all. A quiet little whisper in your ear and your body’s immediately burning up next to her? You’re still so incredibly tragic.  

You might no longer be certain of your sexuality, but maybe it really doesn’t matter. Why do you need to understand it? Why does it need an explanation? No one else in the world is important at all when she’s standing here in front of you. No one else would ever really stand a chance. How could you ever be interested in anyone else, when you know that this woman right here exists? How could any other person ever truly compare? 

There’s a desire in you that’s clearly also felt in her, when she moves herself to look at you. It’s written all over her face, the twinkle in her beautiful eyes, and the fact that her lips are so incredibly close to yours.  

You lean in, and so does she, but it’s like something quickly shoots through her body, as though she’s suddenly being brought back into the room. She does a quick scan of the café, and she collects herself before she lets you both get carried away.  

“We can’t kiss in here.” She tells you quietly, and you frown at her as you pull yourself back.  

“Why not?” You ask, doing your own quick search to try and find what she saw to put her off.  

No one seems too interested in you, though there’s admittedly a couple of people discreetly watching her. She is very beautiful, so it’s not surprising, but you do sort of wish they’d stop their gawking. This gorgeous woman is here with you, and you’re not really in the mood for sharing.

“There’s not another bloody homophobe about, is there?” 

“No!” She laughs, shaking her head. “Well, I don’t know, actually. I haven’t asked around, but we just ..can’t kiss in here.” 

It’s curious. She didn’t have any issues kissing you in front of people before. Spanish people are very famously more physically affectionate with each other than British people are. So, it seems unlikely that the two of you would turn too many heads just by kissing.  

“Okay..” you accept reluctantly, pouting a little at the rejection, “so ..should we just quickly nip outside to do it then, or?” You joke cheekily, pointing to the door with your thumb.

She chuckles with you, resting her forehead to your shoulder. “You’re still as straight as ever!” She grins, as she wraps you back up in her arms.  

It’s quite nice just losing yourself in her embrace. Burying your head in her neck and holding her tight against you. Having her arms back around you, her perfume overwhelming your senses. The rest of the coffee shop fades into a blur with her in your arms. She’s comforting, reassuring. She’s real, and she’s here.  

“Ale!” Is called out by the barista not a minute later, and you’d have very happily paid it no attention at all. The immediate flinch from the woman that you’re holding, in response to it, however, tells you that you might have just found out a very valuable piece of information indeed.  

You repeat it under your breath, as she pulls away from you and goes to collect your coffees from the counter.  

She says a quiet ‘moltes gràcies’ to the barista, and she narrows her eyes with a small grimace as she returns to you. There’s still a clear reluctance in her to give too much away, she’s not entirely grateful to her little coffee friend for unknowingly revealing slightly more to you than just her first initial.  

Ale. It must still be short for something, you figure. You start reeling off name possibilities at her in quick succession. Alessia, Alex, Alexis, Alexa. You’re like a dog with a bone, because she makes it clear that you’re getting closer, but she still shakes her head at every guess.  

It’s very frustrating, as she offers you absolutely no assistance with your guessing, but it can’t be as convoluted a mission as trying to discover Rumpelstiltskin’s ridiculous name. Thankfully, it isn’t. It’s on only your 5th attempt that you cause the same small flinch in her, and she smiles softly at you before looking down very quickly. You’ve struck gold.  

Alexia. 

It’s a beautiful name. Your favourite name, you’ve decided. It rolls off your tongue with so much ease, you want to repeat it again and again. 

“Now you know too much.” She sighs whimsically, handing you your coffee as she walks past you to collect her bag from the table she was previously sitting at.  

She gestures for you to follow her and leads you to a quieter area away from the other customers right at the back of the shop. She pulls out your chair for you to sit down, and you can’t not smile at the tiny act of chivalry. She really is very sweet. It’s a shame that she won’t let you kiss her.  

You reveal your own name to her, as she joins you on the other side of the table and she repeats it back to you quietly. Whether it’s the sexy Spanish accent, or just the fact that it’s her saying it to you for the first time, you’re not entirely sure, but your heart skips a few beats after hearing it. 

“Now we both know too much.” She tells you, and she takes a small sip of her coffee.  

There’s the tiniest level of nervousness, that blankets itself over you both as you sit together. It’s a little absurd, you’ve seen this woman naked. She’s seen you naked. It isn’t technically a first date between you, neither of you asked the other to be here, but you both clearly have the little jitters of being on one, coursing through your bodies.  

You find yourself just watching her a few times as you talk over your drinks together. You still can’t really believe you found her so quickly. So, you don’t want to risk taking your eyes off of her for too long, in case she just disappears into thin air while you’re not looking.  

She’s also the most beautiful sight in the café. So, why would you want to waste your time looking at anything else? 

You’re not being very discreet about your staring at all, and neither is she, really. You keep exchanging shy smiles over your cups as you catch each other looking. Both of you blushing and quickly averting your eyes as they meet, and then gradually repeating the whole thing all over again. You’ve definitely caught her gazing a few more times than she’s caught you. So, maybe she’s even more tragic than you are.  

The little coffee you ordered by chance, is Alexia’s usual order, so she tells you. It’s not the most life-changing piece of information for her to share with you, but it’s something else for you to know about her, and you’re absolutely sure to make a note of it. It probably keeps you on an even tally too, she already knows that you enjoy drinking a tequila.  

You’re still not allowed to kiss each other, for whatever obscure reason, but she has reached for you hand under the table. Interlacing your fingers together isn’t a new thing between you both, and neither are those tingles that immediately shoot up through your arm at even the most innocent of touches from her. She really does have an incredible effect on you, it should probably be more terrifying to you than it is.

“Why are you really here?” She asks after a moment, as she strokes her thumb over your knuckles.  

“My sister dragged me here.” You answer. “It’s a very important football match tomorrow, apparently.” 

“The one against Chelsea?” She asks, with an unmistakable look of interest in her eyes, that has you rolling your own lightly back at her.  

“I think she’d say against Barcelona,” you point out with a sigh, “but yeah, that one.” 

You had managed to work out that Alexia was probably a bit of a football fan. She has a little stick figure tattoo of a footballer on her leg, the outline of a baby being given a ball on her back, and you have exceptional detective skills. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.  

So, it isn’t a surprise that she’d be excited by your footballing interests, but it is unfortunate that you really don’t share the same passion for it as her.  

“Unless you’re a very daring rebel,” you start, “I assume you’ll be supporting Barcelona tomorrow?” 

“Mhmm,” she murmurs, with a small twinkle in her eye, “and you’ll be supporting Chelsea?” 

“Not emphatically,” you admit with a smile, “but I’ll be in that section of the crowd, yeah.”  

“You don’t really care about football at all, do you?” She asks knowingly, with an edge to her smirk that’s intriguing, as you shake your head at her in apology. “Maybe you should introduce me to your sister instead, then!” She winks, and you very quickly remove your hand back out of her hold.  

“Don’t.” You tell her. “Please. Don’t even joke about it.” 

It’s admittedly a little cute that she finds herself quite so hilarious for her disgusting little joke, but you are very unamused by the idea. If the childish look of mischief on her face wasn’t so entirely endearing to you, you may very well have got up and left her right then and there.  

She rests the back of her hand on your thigh with her palm outstretched, and you roll your eyes at her before placing your own hand back into it. She raises it to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, leaving you with the faintest of blushes across your cheeks. So, maybe you can find it in yourself to forgive her just this once.  

“I have a sister.” She reveals. “Her name's Alba. She’s a few years younger than me. I’m the older sibling, like you are.”  

“Uh oh!” 

“What?” 

“Well, now I really do know too much.” You tell her with a wink.

“My sister’s Emily.” You inform her rebalancing the tally of facts you keep sharing with each other. “Though she’d kill you for calling her that. I think she’d change her name completely if she didn’t think it would upset our Dad so much. She just goes by Em these days ..so ..she probably would have enjoyed your silly little initial idea, actually,” you admit thoughtfully, frowning a little at the realisation, “maybe I really should introduce you to her instead..” 

“Por favor.” She says quietly, quickly shaking her head at you and raising your hand to her lips once again. “Don’t even joke about it.” 

“Will you be going to the game tomorrow?” You ask, a not-so-subtle attempt at finding out if you might be getting to see each other again so soon. “We’d be like star-crossed lovers in the stands. Very Romeo and Juliet of us!” 

“I don’t know that we want to be comparing ourselves to those two! I don’t remember it ending very well for them.” She reminds you, narrowing her eyes at you as her intriguing little smirk returns to her face. “And no. I’m working tomorrow, I won’t be in the stands.” 

“Boo. You can’t be that big of a fan, then!” You tut in disappointment. “I’ve come all this way to support my team!” 

“Your team!” She chuckles. “Will you be there in a Chelsea shirt?” 

“Absolutely not. I’ll be in very neutral colours.” 

She smiles, nibbling at the inside of her mouth as she lowers her eyes to look at the table. She knocks her hand gently on it a few times before turning her attention back to you. It’s impossible to know what she’s thinking, but she’s definitely debating something silently in her head.  

“I could give you a Barcelona one?” She suggests a little cautiously, and you have to smile at the idea. Your sister would certainly disown you if you took one of those back home with you. It’d be worth it, just to see the look on her face.

“You have a very weird habit of offering me your clothes.” You tell her slyly.  

“Mhmm. I really like seeing you in them.” She admits sultrily, and your breath catches as her eyes darken looking at you. “I think I have one in my bag, if you want it.” 

It’s a surprisingly sexy little offer, and you do quite like having her clothes on your body. It’s hard not to laugh at her peculiarity, though, even your sister isn’t that crazy of a football fan.  

“You just ..carry it around with you at all times?” You ask, furrowing your brow as you chuckle at her. “That’s really weird of you! Do you sell them? You go round offering them to unsuspecting tourists? Is that your job? Is it a fake? Are yo—”

“You need to stop trying to know things about me.” She interrupts softly, shaking her head as she chuckles.  

“And just ..blindly accept that you always have a football shirt on you?” 

“Mhmm.” She giggles, and you narrow your eyes at her.

She really is very curious.  

She pulls it out from her little duffle bag from under the table and hands it to you with a gleam in her eye as you take it from her. You push your empty coffee cup to the side and spread the shirt out over the table to study it.  

They’re not exactly your colours, but you can probably make them work. You hold it up against you to check that it will suit, and she bites her lip as she watches you. There’s a name printed on the back of it, you realise, and you smile a little as you read it in your head.  

“Don’t most adults keep it blank? Or just go for their favourite player?” You ask smirking. You turn the shirt around and rest it over yourself, and she gently bites at the skin around her fingernail as you trace the lettering over your chest. “I thought it was just little kids that got their own name on the back. Do you quite like pretending you’re also on the team?” 

“Mhmm ..maybe.” She mumbles, stifling a giggle as she rests her head in her hand. She smiles at you fondly, as she continues gazing at your little shirt inspection.  

“That’s really very cute of you.” You tell her, placing the shirt back on the table and leaning over it as you trace your fingers over the number. “Why ‘11’?” 

“Hm?” 

“11. You have it tattooed on you. You’ve chosen it for your shirt.” You point out. “Is it your birthday? You were born on the 11th? You were born in November? Born on New Year’s Day? Is it just your lucky number? Is it—” 

“Stop, trying to know things about me.” She interrupts again quietly, reaching for your hand and meeting you across the table to rest her forehead to yours.  

“But I want to know things about you.” You whisper. “I want to know when your birthday is. I’d like to know your surname. I want to know what you do for a living, how you got those scars on your knee, how much you weighed when you were born. The name of your first crush, where you went to school, the meaning behind your tattoos. I want to know each and every incredible milestone you’ve ever achieved, and all the unfathomably boring things that you got up to in between each of them. I want to know every single detail about you, and your life, Alexia. I really, really want to know you.”   

It’s quite the thing for you to confess to the poor woman after only meeting her on two separate occasions, but the way her grip on your hand kept tightening as you spoke, the slight clenching of her jaw, and the fact that her lips are dangerously close to yours once again, probably means you haven’t just completely scared her off with it.  

“We’d have to spend a lifetime together, trying to learn all of that about each other.” She whispers to you, her lips lightly brushing against yours.  

“Is that a proposal?” You chuckle, gently bumping your nose to hers. Your eyes trail to her lips, and it’s really very hard to not act on your impulses. “Am I really not allowed to kiss you in h—“ 

It seems that you are allowed to kiss her in here, when it’s right at the back where no one’s watching. Or she’s allowed to kiss you, at least, because there's no doubt which one of you instigated this. Her lips move against yours, and your pulse reacts to her immediately.

It's a kiss harbouring an awful lot of emotion, for two people who still hardly know each other. It's slow, passionate, careful, and every confusing little worry that's been plaguing your brain since the last time you kissed, instantly melts away into nothing as her tongue slips back into your mouth. You're the only two people in the world when her hand's pulling you in by the back of your neck, and you’re tugging her closer by grabbing at her shirt.

It’s probably a good job she did decide to take you further away from everybody else, because it doesn’t stay an entirely family-friendly kiss for very long. It’s not wildly inappropriate, you’re not animals, and the bastard table’s in the way of you doing too much with each other. Thank goodness it is, because it’s been over a month, after all, and you’re both clearly quite a bit needy. You really can’t be doing that in public.  

“I’ve missed you.” She murmurs against your lips, pulling you impossibly further into her.  

“I really missed you too.” 

Hours feel like minutes, in Alexia’s company, as you spend the afternoon roaming Barcelona together. She still refuses to tell you everything about herself. You don’t learn her surname, and she still won’t tell you what she does for a living, but you do both share other things about yourselves with each other. 

It doesn’t matter how insignificant any of the details probably are. Every single one of them still feels important to you, because it’s another little glimpse into her. Every single fact, story and secret that she shares, is what makes Alexia, who she is, and she was absolutely right, you do find yourself falling more for her, with all of the little things you keep discovering.  

She eventually agrees to tell you her birthday. Which makes the whole ‘11’ obsession even more intriguing to you, because the 4th of February ’94 does absolutely nothing to clear that little mystery up. It does tell you that the man in his twenties that you were looking for the night you first met, didn’t even turn out to be a woman in her twenties at all. She turned 30 nearly 3 months ago. She’s absolutely decrepit! 

She gives you a tiny tour on your stroll together, bringing some clarity to the Catalonian streets you’ve been carelessly walking down. Explaining the extra confusing writing on the menu board, and casually revealing to you that she can speak 3 different languages. So, your drunken boast about your GCSE level German, probably wasn’t very impressive to her at all.  

You’re both approached a fair few times by people asking for directions. You can never understand what it is that they’re saying, and you're not really of much use to them just standing there being awkward. So, you hang off a little to the side taking in your surroundings, waiting for her to help them out, before she excitedly returns back to you. You’re not at all bothered by the interruptions. Your patience with it keeps earning you a quick discreet kiss from her as she wraps her arms around your waist, and you return the same display of affection, for her unrelenting kindness to strangers.

Alexia insists that she isn’t a tour-guide, and she’s also not an actress. So, you are very slowly whittling down the options of what it is she could possibly do for a living. She asks you about your own career, which is incredibly cheeky of her, considering. So, you simply refuse to tell her.

Maybe it’s that competitive streak in you, but if she wants to play it secretive, you can absolutely match her for it. You only agree to give her the corresponding facts to the one’s she’s willing to give to you. That way, if she’s falling for you with each new piece of information the same way that you’re doing for her, at least you’re both crashing down for each other, at exactly the same speed.

There’s slightly less careless abandon with being too physical with each other, walking hand in hand around Barcelona. It’s arguably tame compared to how you both were back in London. Whether it’s the lack of alcohol that’s keeping her more reserved, or maybe just because it isn’t yet nighttime, you’re not entirely sure.  

You’re still stealing kisses as you waltz along the streets, but you’re not pushing each other up against the walls of buildings out in the open. Maybe that would be a little indecent of you both. You’re pulling each other down quiet alleyways, instead, pressing yourselves together in secret coves.  

It doesn’t feel entirely necessary, the streets you’re exploring aren’t particularly packed with people, but you don’t question it too much. You’ve really just missed having her lips on yours, and whatever capacity she feels comfortable doing it in, you’re more than willing to oblige.  

You couldn’t really care less who sees you kissing her. You all but forget that they exist when she's pulling you into her and leaving her mark on you. It is arguably far more exciting, however, trying to be sneaky about it with each other. You're both almost actively searching for places that you're unlikely to get caught in. Finding hidden areas and seeing how much you can get away with together.

Your hands find their way under her shirt on more than one occasion. She really does have the most beautiful body. She jokingly reprimands you for it each time, but she doesn’t really discourage you from doing it. She does continually tease you, for your ever-decreasing signs of straightness, though.

Each newly shared kiss with Alexia, is somehow even better than the last. Whether she’s passionately throwing caution to the wind with you, by kissing down your neck, or trapping your bottom lip between her teeth. Even when she’s just being painfully frustrating, by giving you the quickest of pecks before skipping away. Every single one of them still sets your soul on fire, and they still manage to pull all the air right out from your lungs, every single time.

Alexia waits with you, as it turns to evening, on a bench by the road for your taxi back to your hotel. You try not to let the mild burning in your eyes ruin your final moments with her, but you can feel yourself starting to break.

She pulls out the football shirt from her bag again and holds it out for you to take with a shy smile. “I really hope you enjoy the game tomorrow.” She says, and you try to allow yourself to chuckle a little while nodding your head. 

“Mhmm. Thank you, I’ll try.” You tell her, throwing her shirt over your shoulder and quickly rubbing the corner of your eyes. “I’ll have to get Em’s permission to wear this, first. She’ll be very unimpressed with me.” 

“Just don’t let her burn it!”  

“I won't.” You promise, interlacing your fingers with hers and placing a kiss to the back of her hand. “The other fans might throw tomatoes at it, mind!” 

She chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple, and there’s that familiar sense of dread in your stomach, as you watch the road, knowing your time together is quickly running out again.

You catch her gazing at you as you turn to her, and maybe there’s a little butterfly or two in your stomach as well, at the way her eyes are watching over you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

“Mhmm. You haven’t even gone yet,” she tells you smiling, tucking your hair back behind your ear, “and I already can’t wait to see you again.” 

“You’re really that certain that you will? You’re still sure you don’t want us to swap numbers?”  

“We’ve already bumped into each other a couple of times now. I have no doubt we’ll manage it again.”

It’s nowhere near as reassuring to you as it seems to be to her, but there’s a certain level of romance in her conviction in fortuity. Maybe you are beginning to believe in the possible existence of fate, though you're not completely enamoured by continuing to leave your encounters with Alexia, entirely up to chance. She cradles your head in her hands and gently wipes the tears that are threatening to spill from your eyes with her thumbs.

"I'll never forgive you," you warn her weakly, "if this ends up being it for us."

"Trust me." Is all she asks of you, and she pulls you back into her, resting her head against yours as she runs her fingers over your back.

It feels like an unspoken promise from her, to keep at least trying to find you, and there's a power in her certainty that has you desperate to believe in it too.

It’s still a little hard for you both to say goodbye to each other, but she’s already told you she has a busy day tomorrow, and you can’t really bring her back to your hotel when your sister’s already sharing the bed with you. You share another long hug, and a few more secret kisses before your taxi pulls up, and you finally hesitantly agree to part ways. She places a kiss to your cheek, by way of goodbye as you clamber yourself into the back of the car, setting off without her once again.  

You try to reassure yourself, on the taxi ride back to your hotel. You've ran into each other twice, in two separate countries, by pure dumb luck. It can't be impossible for it to happen again. Maybe there’s something connecting you both, an invisible string, an intangible little bungee cord, that's making sure that neither of you is ever able to truly stray too far away from the other. Alexia has ‘no doubt’ that you’ll manage another meeting again, and you take some comfort in knowing, that you still have 2 days left in the city, to do exactly that.

________________

Collapsing back down to lay on the bed in your hotel room, you have a sneaking suspicion, that you’ll have a far better night’s sleep than you’ve managed to have in a long time, tonight. Your mind isn’t spiralling with confusion anymore, and there’s no longer a gaping hole inside of your chest.  

There’s an excitement in you, a warmth. An encouraging little hope that you really have found something special. Someone special. That once-in-a-lifetime connection with another person who’s also trapped in this world along with you.  

It definitely isn’t the someone you expected to intertwine your soul with. Any younger version of yourself would be very confused about where she’s ended up. It isn’t a connection you want to keep questioning either. It’s not one you really have any doubts on the existence of at all. She’s just it for you, and maybe it’s okay that that’s all you can say to justify it.   

You don’t need to be attracted to other women; you don’t really care about your weakening attraction to men. It just makes sense when you’re together with her. There’s no confusion, no uncertainty, there’s no warning alarms ringing out in your head. There’s just Alexia, and the existence of anything and anybody else, will always pale in comparison to her. 

Your sister arrives a little after you, plodding back into the hotel room, clearly wiped from whatever individual Spanish adventure she got up to today, and she flops herself into one of the armchairs with a very heavy sigh.  

“Long day?” You ask. 

“Mhmm.” She mumbles, frowning at you suspiciously. “You look very happy?” 

“I am very happy!” You tell her with a smile. You excitedly roll over and reach down the side of the bed to retrieve your souvenir of the day from its hiding spot. You launch it right into your sister’s face and she grunts a little under the impact. “Will you hate me, if I wear that tomorrow?” You ask, trying to contain your newfound enthusiasm. 

She pulls it off from where it’s wrapped itself around her head, and she gives you a very unimpressed look. “You bought a Barcelona shirt?” She asks, clearly disgusted with your choice of fashion.  

“I was given it.” 

“By?” 

“..a woman.” You tell her, gently biting your bottom lip as you smile up at the ceiling.  

“Mm.” She mutters with a sigh, moving to join you over on the bed. She thwacks the shirt down over your stomach and lets out a huff next to you. “Well, at least she has good taste.” She tells you. “Or she’s just a bit basic.” 

That’s a little rude ..and very confusing.  

“What do you mean?” 

“Going for the best player on the team.” 

That’s less rude ..but even more confusing.  

“..What do you mean?” 

“Are you joking?” She asks, with a very clear tone of annoyance to her voice. She grabs the shirt and thwacks you with it again. “A woman gives you a shirt with a name on the back, and you don’t even care enough to ask who the bloody player is?”   

Maybe your head is racing again. That’s incredibly confusing. It really doesn’t make any sense. It’s her name, not a player’s name. Maybe they just share a name. It’s not an incredibly rare name, that’s not impossible. 

Your Alexia has a mild interest in football, she’s not playing it professionally. Who would keep that a secret? She’s reticent with sharing information, that’s for certain, but she’s not a bloody liar, and she told you she wouldn’t even be there tomorrow.  

No.  

She said that she was working tomorrow, and that she wouldn’t be in the stands with you. 

Your mind has started racing, and so has your little heart.  

“What. do. you. mean?” You repeat slowly, trying to keep yourself calm.  

“Alexia Putellas.” She tells you, very nonchalantly, and your brain all but short circuits at the name.  

“Who is Alexia Putellas?” 

She thwacks you again with your shirt in dismay, and you’ve really had just about enough of being treated like a piñata. You sit up, pull it from her hands and thwack it across her face as you ask her to explain herself.  

“She’s a footballer, for fuck’s sake!” She shouts, rubbing the palm of her hand against her eyelid. “She’s Spanish. She plays for Barcelona!” She pulls out her phone, to search for her Instagram and bonks you on the head with it. “That’s Alexia Putellas, you twat.” 

You look at the profile, and the hotel room blurs around you. You can feel your heart thumping in your chest, hear the blood pumping around in your ears.  

Your Alexia, is Alexia Putellas.  

She doesn’t sell shirts for a living, she’s not an actress nor a tour-guide, she really isn’t even a spy. Though she’d probably make a pretty good one, the way she never gave this piece of information away.  

Your unexplainable connection with another human being, and she plays football for a living? Clearly very well too, as 2 of her pinned photos have her holding a massive award for it right next to her face. Every other post on her page is about football. She’s Barcelona, through and through.  

She’s verified, she has over 3 million followers. She’s been out here, existing on the world’s stage, all this time, without you ever knowing. Your own sister’s been privy to more information about her than you have.  

She was in London a month ago for football, according to her Instagram posts. The cryptic little ‘business trip’ she was on, was a quarter-final match against Arsenal. An embarrassingly easy win for Barcelona, she must have been out celebrating it when she found you in that club.  

She was back in London again last week for football. You could have seen her then. You missed a chance at an earlier reunion with her, because you refused to go with your little sister to watch her in the first leg against Chelsea.  

Your breathing’s very shallow as you scroll through the endless stream of photos. Your mind is absolutely spinning. It’s all a bit much to take in. You lock your sister’s phone and place it back on her chest as you try to collect yourself. You really don’t want to risk learning too much about her. You want her to tell you everything, you don’t want to find it all out behind her back.  

You’ve been waiting with bated breath all afternoon, savouring every little piece of information she’s given you, and your smart-arse little sister could probably tell you loads about her if you asked. Lots of the details you’re so desperate to know about Alexia are probably only a quick google search away, but you feel guilty enough just knowing her surname without her having been the one to tell it to you.  

She hadn’t been super willing to even give you her first, and no wonder! It’s the single name that’s plastered on her shirt, it’s the name she’s known mononymously as. She’s women’s football’s answer to Beyoncé, Adele. 

Of course, she didn’t want to kiss you in front of people in the café, out there on the streets. It’ll be why she only kissed your cheek in front of the taxi driver. She probably is a little liar, because she almost certainly wasn’t giving directions to people when they approached you both. She presumably isn’t old friends with the two men who wanted a photo with her. They all just know who she is. The whole damn city of Barcelona knows exactly who she is.  

Maybe she was testing you, waiting for you to crack, to confess to knowing everything about her. How couldn’t you know about her? How unbelievably rude of you.  

She’s a celebrity footballer, and you’ve treated her like she’s one of the most normal people in the world. You’ve flirted with her, teased her, kissed her, slept with her, and she’s welcomed it all with that adorable little smirk.  

So, maybe she’s liked that you didn’t know, that you really had no idea about who she was at all. You can’t have had any preconceived thoughts about the woman when you’ve had no prior knowledge about her. Perhaps it’s been part of the fun for her, just being with someone who really couldn’t care about the noise surrounding her. Maybe that’s the reason she didn’t really want you knowing about it. Her fame could have changed things, pushed you away.  

It wouldn’t have. She’d have to do something intrinsically evil to frighten you off. Especially now, after the afternoon you’ve just spent together, learning more, and falling deeper for her. She’s still just the woman that baffled you with a lime in a nightclub, wound you up by kissing someone else. Rescued you from a night of undeniable regret, and turned it into the start of something magical.

She’s your once-in-a-lifetime connection, your confusing, and frustrating, perfect one-night stand companion. She’s the woman that's turned your whole world on its head, and it just turns out, that she quite likes to kick a ball around, with a bunch of other women for a living, and people from all over the world, have been watching her excel at it for years.

She has to know that you’ll have found out already, you’ve told her your sister’s football obsessed. Even if your sister didn’t know who she is, there’s bound to be other people wearing her name on their backs tomorrow. Probably not many of them were given their shirts by the woman herself. There’ll be even less of them with one of her sweatshirts in their bag.  

Maybe she’s excited for you to connect all the pieces together. Giving you her shirt was far too bold a move for her to still not want you to know. She’d have just talked you out of going to the game, if that was the case.  

She wants you there, being a very daring rebel, with her name boldly resting between your shoulder blades, rooting for her and Barcelona, right in the middle of the Chelsea fans. You’ll probably stand out like a sore thumb with your red stripes in the sea of blue you’ll be standing in, and maybe that’s exactly what she’s hoping for. She had ‘no doubt’ that you'd see each other again, after all. 

“She’s the best player on the team?” You ask your sister dreamily, collapsing back down on the bed and clinging to the shirt in your hand as you hold it against your body.  

“Mhmm. Best in the world.” She tells you, and there’s that exhilarating little thrill shooting right up through your body.  

“Oof. I’ll tell Sam Kerr you said that!”  

She scoffs to the side of you and flicks your forehead playfully. You lift Alexia’s shirt, holding it out in between your fingers to study her name again in disbelief.  

You're falling in love, with the ‘best in the world,’ and she seems to be falling for you, too. A little nobody from London, who’s spent the past month pining after who she thought, was a little nobody from Spain. She’s once again turned your whole damn world on its head.  

She really is absolutely everything.  

“I will hate you if you wear that thing tomorrow.” Your sister warns you, as she hits the shirt with the back of her hand. “I offered you a Chelsea shirt and you gagged at it!” 

“I’ve not gagged at this one.” You point out with a grin. “It’s a shame you won’t be friends with me tomorrow.” You tell her, resting the shirt back out over your torso.  

“You can’t wear it!” 

“I bloody can, and I very much will.” You inform her. “You should rethink wearing a Chelsea shirt. You’ll be very disappointed when we beat you tomorrow.” 

“‘We?’ You really are a twat. You’re Barcelona’s biggest fan all of a sudden?” 

“Too bloody right, I am!” You tell her decidedly, hugging the shirt against you. “I’ve always loved football, me.” 

[lovelettersfromluna]

☆ ★ Still Alive ☆ ★ {Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: Ellie Williams has been your best friend since the second grade, the two of you stuck by the hip since you were practically babies. What happens when she starts acting….strange all of a sudden?

an: Okay yes, I folded and I wrote an Ellie fic inspired by Jennifers body, it’s just 1000000x gayer, and a tiny bit different. Ellie is Jennifer and reader is Needy. That’s all I have to say. Just trust me, okay?

Warnings: SMUT! Buckle up bc this one is gonna be filthy, college!ellie and reader, angst, mean!ellie, angst bc your best friend is a basically a demon now, Ellie will kill anyone that crosses her sweet best friend, shy!reader, scissoring again bc it’s hot sue me idc, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), I’m sorry but Ellie has fangs what do you want me to do? Let me know if I missed anything! (This isn’t proof read btw I’m sorry)

Part 2 can be read here!

Your best friend had been acting…strange

Ellie Williams had been your best friend since the first day of second grade. She spotted you immediately, her green eyes sparkling the second she caught eye of you swimming in the sea of second graders during recess. She made her way towards you, she told you how cool she thought your shoes were. To think someone as cool as she was thought that you were cool had almost felt like a joke in the beginning.

But it wasn’t a joke, and she had been by your side every day since. Even now that you were both in college together, she was with you.

Except, she wasn’t. Not right now at least. Ellie had been making herself scarce for about a week now, which was not at all like her. Even if she wasn’t feeling well, she’d text you whining until you were at her apartment with everything you needed to nurse her back to health, calling her your big baby.

But all you got was radio silence. It was almost as if she didn’t even exist at certain points. Every attempt you made at trying to reach out at her were in vain, as you were left with nothing on the other side. You even tried showing up at her apartment, a stack of notes that she had missed pressed between your arm and your chest, and brownies from her favorites bakery stuffed in your bag, but still,

Nothing.

What was even worse, was that everyone was coming to you regarding her absence.

Ellie had always been the more popular one of the two of you. Her presence just…attracted others, she was like a magnet. And how could she not be? She was so fucking charming sometimes it felt like she wasn’t real. She had the prettiest smile, and green eyes that sparkled from the moment you first set eyes on them. Everyone who saw her was enamored by her, and you’d never blame them for it.

And it was no secret that you were best friends. You were always close by her, trailing behind like a lost puppy. Ellie always assured you that she liked it that way, that you felt like home to her.

But in instances like this, it was a problem.

You had nothing to say to the people who asked you for her, simply giving them a half shrug and an apologetic smile when you told them you were just as confused about her disappearance as they were. The only thing that truly kept you from filing a missing persons report was that her landlord said she had been in touch with her.

But what really pissed you off, were the girls.

Ellie had always been popular with them, even back in grade school, she had girls swooning over her every time she outran the boys during track, or when she flashed them a particularly bright smile. It was something you thought you’d gotten used to, pushing down the jealousy that came with the countless pretty girls that would interrupt your conversations with your best friend.

But after the fifth girl came to you, twisting her pretty hair between her fingers as she asked you for Ellie, you realized it still fucking bothered you.

You carried on though, getting through all of the attention you had been getting by the end of the week. You were a good student, quiet, smart, a professors dream in all honesty. You used it to your advantage, distracting yourself with your studies so that you wouldn’t worry too much about your best friend.

You had finally gotten back to your apartment on Friday after your last class, a low sigh blowing past your lips as you pressed your back up against your front door once it was closed. You tossed your keys to the side, slowly peeling your jacket off of your tired body as you went about getting comfortable in your home.

You had showered and gotten yourself something to eat, and now you were on your bed, cuddled up with Angel, your precious little calico kitty. These days it was like she was the only one that was around to take up the attention you had to give.

Your hand was stroking between her ear gently, her soft purrs making you feel drowsy. Your eyes were heavy, and you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and forget about the sinking feeling that came with the sudden disappearing of your dear friend.

A loud banging against your door made you flinch.

You frowned as you sat up, staring in the direction of where the loud, persistent noise was coming from. Angel stared in the same direction as well, her meowing growing louder, as if she sensed something behind the door that you didn’t, something dangerous.

You shushed her gently, giving her a gentle pet as if to reassure her as much as you could before you grabbed your phone. It was already past midnight, and you sure as hell didn’t invite anyone over, let lone expect anyone to just show up.

You gave it a minute longer, hoping that whoever was there simply had the wrong apartment number and would soon realize, leaving before they could bother you any further.

But the knocking didn’t stop.

It was loud, and persistent, and eager to get in, and for a moment you felt as though you really were in danger.

You inhaled deeply, your eyebrows furrowed as you got off of your bed and walked out into your living room, staring at your front door with every move you made. You obviously weren’t an idiot, so you grabbed the nearest weapon you could use to stun whoever it was that so desperately needed to get into your home, which happened to be a spare hanger that was in the closet near your front door.

You gripped it in your hand tightly, inhaling deeply before you unlocked the door and opened it harshly, ready to knock out whoever was behind it.

You weren’t totally sure what you expected, but it surely wasn’t your best friend standing on the other side.

Your best friend who had been missing for the past week, who couldn’t even respond to your text messages with a simple confirmation that she was in fact okay, your best friend who you had been worried sick over for days on end, your best friend that looked like your best friend but also didn’t at the same time…

Her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked down at you, green eyes piercing through your own as she took you in. You were about to go to sleep, and she could tell by your little pajama shorts and your fuzzy socks that you reserved for Friday nights only, something about treating yourself after a long week rung through her ears as she recalled the night she asked you why you wore them.

The breath that you had been holding in your lungs blew past your lips, sighing in relief as you finally let your posture fall. You weren’t sure if you were relieved that it was her, or if you were relieved at the fact that she wasn’t a fucking axe murderer waiting to chop you up into little pieces.

“Jesus…Ellie? What…what the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned breathlessly as you brushed your hair off of your face, far too winded to even ask her where she’d been yet.

Ellie smirked softly as she watched you, a low chuckle leaving her chest as her eyes trailed down to the hanger in your hand. “Is that a hanger?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her comment, almost taken aback at the fact that she wasn’t responding to your question before your eyes followed hers, and you looked down at the hanger in your hand. You rolled your eyes, a soft huff leaving your lips before you hung it back up and promptly stepped aside for her to come into your home.

“You were knocking on my door like the fucking feds…or..I dunno, Michale Myers or something? God Ellie what the hell is wrong with you? It’s almost 1 in the morning”. She simply smiled down at you while you scolded her, her large palm pressing against your front door as she closed it. God she had missed you, her chest was practically blooming with happiness as she watched you walk over to your fridge without another word, grabbing her a bottle of water before you returned with it and held it out for her, that adorable frown she loved so much still playing on your lips.

She licked her lips, her large hand wrapping around the bottle before she gently set it down on the coffee table next to you both. She hummed, bending her knees a bit before she wrapped her long arms around your waist, pulling you flush to her body and almost off of the ground. Her face pressed against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as her eyes fluttered shut, groaning softly.

“Missed you so much Bambi…”

Anymore scolding that you had for her was caught in your throat the second you felt those arms wrap around your body and pull you into her, the familiar nickname she had given you when you were far younger making your insides warm up. Your cheeks burned red, simply letting her take you into her before you sighed softly, your own eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your arms around her neck, realizing then just how much you had missed her too.

“Where’d you go El….you wouldn’t even text me back..” You huffed out, your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of her neck. She smiled against yours, knowing all too well that you were pouting from the mere sound of your little huffs and whines.

She licked her lips, feeling how much her absence has affected you. She held you for a bit longer, the two of you swaying a bit in the middle of your home as she let herself enjoy you for a bit longer before she spoke.

“I was…um…I got sick…bad cold” She nodded to herself, trying to reassure you.

But you weren’t having it.

You frowned as you pulled away from her, pushing her back by her shoulders as you stared up at her, not buying her excuse for one second. “Then why didn’t you call me? You knew I’d come and take care of you…”

Ellie hated when you looked at her like that. You weren’t mad or disappointed, it was like you were pleading with her. Begging her to just let you help her. And the thing about it, Ellie loved when you babied her, she almost looked forward to getting sick because she knew you’d drop everything and tend to her every need, making sure she got better as soon as humanely possible.

But this…god this was so different than any of those times before.

She licked her lips as she stared down at you, one of her hands coming up to cup your cheek gently, her thumb rubbing over the soft skin before she shook her head. “Didn’t want you getting sick Bambi…this one was just…really bad” She groaned out, making it sound like it really was that bad.

You sighed, because it wasn’t your job to take care of her. You weren’t obligated to do anything for Ellie, and her you. She didn’t owe you anything, and she sure as hell didn’t have to tell you every time she was sick. She wasn’t yours, and you weren’t hers, and this entire situation made that very clear to you.

You’d be lying if you said it was nice to ignore.

You sighed, giving into her as you gave her a gentle nod. The hand on your cheek made your heart burst, feeling like you could cry at any moment, it made the feelings worse.

Ellie had always been touchy with you, your friendship being one that crossed those lines time and time again. You would never shy away from her, and her hands were almost always on you from the moment you could remember.

But why did this all feel…different? Why did her gaze feel so intense, why did it feel like she wasn’t looking at you, but right through you. Like you were something to own, like you were hers.

You figured it was just a lack of her presence for so long, maybe she always looked at you like that and you just never noticed, maybe she looked at all her friends that way.

Regardless of it all, Ellie was back, and you were so fucking happy for that.

Ellie beamed the second she saw your features soften, and she knew that you had given into her. She tugged her bottom lip beneath her teeth as she smiled down at you, her thumbs rubbing circles into your waist as she kept you pressed against her body, a low hum leaving her lips. “You wanna go to a party with me tonight?”

Your eyes widened a bit at her question before you sighed, pulling her hands from around your waist and leaving her in your living room. It was typical Ellie behavior to try and drag you to one of the many frat parties that she attended. It just…wasn’t your thing. You were a home body through and through, you preferred staying inside in the comforts of your own home, cuddling with your cat while you allowed your brain to rot while watching cheesy reality tv shows.

That and…watching Ellie flirt with girls at those parties was just…you couldn’t stand to watch it.

You refused to be the friend that held her back from doing what (or who) she wanted to do, so you didn’t. You always passed up on her offers to those parties, figuring that if you didn’t see it, it wasn’t happening.

It didn’t stop her from attempting though, and the current fire in her eyes was determined to get you to finally come with her.

You sighed as you made your way into your room, Ellie following close behind and watching your every move. You crawled onto your bed, your cotton shorts giving Ellie the perfect view of your ass, causing her to cock her head to the side and shamelessly check you out.

You laid back on your bed, pulling Angel, who had weirdly been on high alert from the moment Ellie had stepped inside of your home, into your lap. You frowned as you looked down at your kitten, her hair raised and eyes slanted as she eyed Ellie’s every move. You pet her gently, trying to calm her down before you pulled her down to cuddle into your chest, grabbing your remote control and turning on your tv.

“M’not going anywhere tonight El…I’ve already showered and brushed my teeth and…I’m just not in the mood to party and get drunk right now” you huffed out, grabbing the plush throw blanket on your bed and draping it over your body, cuddling further into yourself and your cat as your attention was settled on the tv.

Ellie tilted her head back as she whined, mimicking a child throwing a tantrum as she sat at the edge of your bed, her hand slipping underneath your blanket and grabbing a handful of your plush thighs, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Come on..you never go anywhere dude, I can’t stand the people that go there…would be so much better if you came…” Her words trailed off as she pushed your blanket back a bit, needing to see the way your thighs spilled out of her grip as she massaged your skin.

You whined softly, the cool air of your room hitting your skin, but quickly being replaced by the feeling of Ellie’s large hands pawing at your legs. You sighed, turning towards her a bit and giving her better access to you before you shook your head, knowing she wouldn’t let this go without somewhat of a compromise.

“If I tell you I’ll go to the next one, will you drop it?” You practically pleaded, knowing the girl all too well for these games. She’d massage you and caress you until you were putty in her hands, getting you to do whatever it was that she wanted.

She flashed that beautiful smile your way as she finally broke her attention away from your legs, nodding eagerly. Now this, this was progress. Never had Ellie gotten you to promise her something like this, and it made her insides burn with excitement.

You giggled softly as you watched her beam like a kid, making your heart warm up at the sight. You rolled your eyes playfully before you pressed your hand against her chest, pushing her away playfully. “Fuck off…go, have fun tonight…text me when you’re home?” You questioned as you looked up at her, feeling that same sense of anxiety that you felt when you hadn’t heard from her for the entire week.

You had just gotten her back, she needed to know how important that was to you.

Her large hand grasped your wrist gently as it was pressed against her chest, staring down at you as you practically begged her to touch base with you when she got home. She hummed, staring down at you as her fingers caressed your skin gently, your hand emitting warmth against her skin before she nodded.

“Always baby…I’ll see you later, okay?” She assured you with a firm nod, causing you to smile up at her. You gave her a soft noise of agreement before she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her head and letting herself out of your apartment.

You sighed as you watched her leave, your heart sinking once her presence was no longer there with you. Once you heard the click of your front door, you fell back into your soft bed, unable to shake the new, uneasy feeling that came with seeing her.

You thought the following week with Ellie being back would be easier.

It wasn’t.

After the bizarre incident that happened with her banging on your door at one in the morning, you didn’t see her for the rest of the weekend. She texted you nonstop, more so than usual, but her physical presence was once again an enigma. Although she wasn’t completely gone as she was before, the lack of actually seeing her was doing your head in, and you had no idea how to actually bring it up to her.

You expected to brush it all off on Monday morning. You’d wake up for class and Ellie would be waiting for you in the courtyard as usual, like she always did because she was just Ellie, your Ellie, no different than before.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

When you got to your college campus, it seemed as though Ellie’s disappearing act was still in full swing, because she wasn’t there waiting for you. There was someone waiting for you though.

There was one bit of attention that you received during the week of Ellie’s absence that wasn’t directly associated with Ellie, not entirely at least.

Amber was in a few of your classes, and she seemed nice enough. You’d never spoken to her long enough to fully know her, but in the small exchanges that you had with her, you knew she was nice.

She had made her way to you in the middle of the week, noticing that you had been eating lunch alone in the courtyard, or perched up against a tree listening to music or reading. It came to a surprise to you when she wasn’t asking about Ellie, but instead about you. She was sweet, and funny, and as selfish as it may have sounded, she was someone to talk to while Ellie had practically abandoned you.

You couldn’t help but blush softly once she looked in your direction, giving you an excited wave and a small smile as she patted the spot next to her on the bench she was sat at.

“Hey stranger, was waiting for you” She smiled softly, causing you to giggle softly as you sat down next to her. Amber was nice to be around, she made it easy for you. You preferred to listen, and she always had so much to say to you, or about you, complimenting your outfit for the day, or brushing strands of hair from your face.

She was in the middle of asking you how your weekend went, and you opened your mouth to tell her how it was, quiet and uneventful as usual.

But a dark, looming presence cut your words short.

Like a dark, grey cloud, Ellie stood over you both, and she looked terrible. The radiant light that she had emitted on Friday was gone, instead replaced by dull eyes, rimmed with dark bags. Her lips were dry, and the color had been drained from her face, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that the awful cold she was telling you about was back to harass her.

Your eyes widened as you stared up at her, worry filling your chest at how fucking tired she looked. “Ellie? I…are you okay? You look awful. Do you have a-“ she cut off your words, her eyes boring holes through Amber’s skull as she towered over the both of you.

“Who the fuck are you?” Her words were harsh, and pointed and it sounded like Amber had done something horribly wrong, when all she had done was have a conversation with you.

“Ellie what the hell! Amber I’m so sorry I-“ your attention was turned towards Amber as you rushed out an apology, feeling like things could go south at any moment. Ellie looked fucking mad, and something inside of you told you that you wouldn’t play with her right now.

“Amber? Amber? Who the fuck is Amber?” Her tone was pointed, but this time it was directed towards you. Anyone walking by would assume that you had been caught cheating on your girlfriend, and her accusing tone didn’t do anything to make it sound any different. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you finally stood up, pressing your hand against the fuming girls chest to try and put some sort of distance between the two of them, as Amber was clearly just as confused as you were.

“I’ll…talk to you guys later…” Amber mumbled awkwardly, giving you a small apologetic smile before she rushed off towards her first class of the day.

You were too busy to give her anything but a quick wave and a smile before your attention was turned back towards the angry girl that stood before you.

You were filled with anger, and worry, because not only did your best friend speak to someone in a tone that they did not deserve, but she looked half fucking dead.

Her eyes trailed Amber like she was ready to kill, watching her every move until she was completely out of view. She felt your soft hand against her cheek, trying to pull her back down to you. When she finally did look down at you, the look in your eyes made her heart crack.

You were practically begging her to tell you what was wrong, because so many weird things had been happening. And you had enough.

Before she could even understand, you were dragging her across campus. The sun was so fucking bright, and she was so fucking hungry, and seeing you with Amber made her fucking blood boil.

And don’t even get her started on how good you smelled.

She couldn’t focus on anything other than the empty feeling in her stomach, the feeling nagging at her to be noticed, to be acknowledged, the only thing able to distract her from it was the anger she felt when she saw you settled next to a girl that wasn’t her, bare legs on display for them, why the hell were you even wearing a skirt? Did you want Amber to notice? Did you wear it specifically for her? Did you have a crush on her-

Her racing thoughts were cut off when she felt that you had both stopped. She blinked a few times, her blurry eyes taking in her surroundings. You had brought her to the library, tucked away in the very ends of it where no one would find you. You were staring up at her, arms crossed over your chest as you waited for something, anything, from her.

She gave you a lazy shrug. “What?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, mimicking her lazy shrug. “Seriously? That’s all you have to fucking say to me? Ellie, why did you yell at Amber that way? And why the fuck do you look half dead?? Are you sick again? Why don’t you tell me what’s going on!” Your voice grew louder and louder with each words you spoke, feeling your anger rise.

Ellie groaned softly as she shushed you, knowing she didn’t need anymore attention than she had already been getting. Plus, the pounding in her head wasn’t helping either.

Ellie sighed softly, watching as you waited for her response. She knew she couldn’t keep lying to you, she was acting out and she knew that you could read her like the back of your hand.

“I just…have a headache, okay? I didn’t sleep well last night” It wasn’t entirely a lie, she really did have a headache, and she didn’t sleep a goddamn wink the night before.

You huffed out, clearly still not satisfied with the answers that she was giving you. You felt like calling them answers was too forgiving when they were barely that.

“Okay cool. That settles your appearance, but what about your behavior. What makes you think you can talk to people that way Ellie? What makes you think you can talk to me that way?” You questioned, once again begging for some sort of clarity from the girl, one that she was proving time and time again she could not provide.

She felt ashamed, small under your pleading gaze. She knew she owe it to you, and she knew you didn’t deserve what she was dishing out to you.

But the mere thought of you talking to Amber made her seethe, and she felt the anger return in the blink of an eye. She was irritated with everything, everyone, even you, because what makes you think you can just do that in front of her? Have you learned nothing? Do you know nothing?

She’s angry, and she can’t stop the words that are leaving her mouth.

“Because you’re too fucking stupid to see when someone is using you”

You’re not sure what you expect her to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

Her words make your mouth close instantly, because you truly don’t trust yourself enough to know that anything else that leaves yours will be sensible.

The look in your eyes makes Ellie’s heart tug, and she knows she’s done it, she’s forced you to put up those walls that she had taken down herself throughout her entire friendship with you. But for some reason, she can’t find it in herself to stop.

“Don’t give me that fuckin look, it’s true and you know it. Everyone knows it. They all came to you when I wasn’t here because they see the way you follow me like a fucking child, she was using you to get to me just like they were” lies, it was all lies and Ellie fucking knew that. Amber liked you, and everyone except for you could see that. Amber had never had any sort of dealings with Ellie and she never wanted to, she wanted an opening to talk to you, and she saw it when you weren’t by Ellie’s side.

And that pissed Ellie off.

She struck a nerve, she knew that. Your eyes began welling up with tears, filling up like big swimming pools. You bit your lip to hold it back, you refused to cry in front of her, especially when she was the one that did this to you.

You inhaled deeply before you gave her a small nod. “Okay Ellie….” Was all you could truly say. She’d said all she had to, and you heard her loud and clear. You were a burden, and she had just confirmed that.

Ellie wanted to reach for you, and pull you into her body and tell you that it was all okay. But the damaged had been done, she had said what did and there was no going back from it.

Not to mention, she didn’t fully trust herself to hold you in her arms right now.

The small sniffles she heard when she rushed past her and out of the library was the nail in the coffin, and she let out a low sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose, the pounding in her head getting harder and harder to ignore.

She needed to fucking eat.

You were avoiding Ellie like the plague.

You’d managed to get by throughout the week without seeing her. Ellie had messaged you the same night after the incident at the library, but you were too exhausted to even care. Her words still echoed in your head.

Because you’re too fucking stupid to see when someone is using you

You winced, the tone of her words making you feel so fucking worthless. You huffed as you stared up at your ceiling, holding back the tears that would spill passed your cheeks and wet your pillow anyways.

You couldn’t wait to come back home after everything happened, wanting nothing more than to just crawl into your bed and ignore everything that had happened.

And you did, you went too and from class without saying a single word to anyone. Anytime you’d caught Ellie staring at you from across the room you’d ignore it, and keep your head down until you were in the clear.

What you did do however, was text Amber.

Amber had done a great job at distracting you from the horrible things your best friend said to you. You were devastated, and you realized while muting Ellie’s messages that Amber had given you her number within the week that Ellie wasn’t there. So you took advantage of it.

You were too miserable to talk to anyone in person, but the warm glow of your phone reflecting onto your face was enough to fill the small void that had become present within the week.

Texting Amber is actually what got you in the position you were in now.

It was Friday night, and you were stood in front of your mirror, smoothing down the clothes that gripped your body. You wore a pleated denim skirt that was far too short, watching yourself in the mirror alone was enough to make you feel shy. The black baby tee that you wore hugged you perfectly, leaving a sliver of skin revealed right below your shirt and above your skirt. You turned around, eyeing yourself and thinking about how ridiculous you looked, and how rifidi you’d this all was.

And the fact that Ellie would be there.

This was the party you had promised her you’d go with her to, and you were going with Amber, the girl she had yelled at in front of you for simply speaking to you.

You shook the thoughts away, fluffing out your hair and reapplying your favorite lip liner before you grabbed your black boots and zipped them onto your feet, grabbing your phone and leaving your apartment without another thought.

Before you knew it, you were stood outside of the godforsaken frat house you had been dreading all week.

You sent Amber a quick message before you locked your phone and made your way inside.

It was dark, purple and blue lights reflecting off the bodies that were smooshed together. The smell of sweat, weed and alcohol assaulted your nose, and the loud music was so strong that it made you feel like your insides were shaking, and you remembered why you hated the party scene so much.

You sighed as you squeezed passed them all, your hands gripping the ends of your skirt to keep yourself from flashing anyone.

You made your way into the kitchen, letting out a sigh of relief to see that it wasn’t as packed as the main area of the large house. You needed breather, because it was all hitting you slowly. You didn’t want to be there, and you almost always avoided places like this because this wasn’t your scene.

It was Ellie’s, and the idea that she was there at the party made you feel even worse.

You needed to distract yourself, and eventually find Amber. You turned around, grabbing a red solo cup and mixing equal parts of flat soda and whatever cheap liquor was available to you before you took a big gulp down, wincing at the sharp taste evading your taste buds.

You turned around, your butt pressed up against the counter as you babysat your drink, eyes drifting towards different people that came in and out of the kitchen. You were almost done, and you had almost completely convinced yourself to get up and leave, until you saw a familiar face beaming your way.

Amber.

You sighed in relief as she made her way towards you, her arms slipping around your waist and tugging you closer to her body. The alcohol already had you feeling warm, and the feeling of someone else pressed up against you made you feel even warmer. You giggled softly as she pulled back, hissing softly as she bit her lip.

“Fuck you look good…where have you been hiding all this, hm?” Her words made you blush, and you nudged the girl playfully before she grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers as she nodded her head ti the dance floor. “Shall we?”

You gave her a nod, cheeks burning red as you threw back the remaining alcohol in your cup before you let her lead you out.

Suddenly, the party didn’t feel all that suffocating, and neither did your thoughts. It felt easy, like breathing. Ambers hands were pressed up against your waist, pulling your ass flush against her friend as she guided you to grind against her to the heavy beat of the music, and you fucking liked it.

You liked being here without Ellie, being your own person, with your own thoughts and your own wants and needs. Gone were the days where you were her shadow, following behind the girl you desperately wanted more with just for her to say the things she said to you the last time you spoke. You felt like you were floating on air, your hands reaching behind you and tugging at ambers hair, pulling her closer to your neck that she was attacking with kisses.

You almost keeled over and died when you caught sight of the piercing eyes that were tracking you from across the room.

There she was, in all of her glory, Ellie fucking Williams. Your best friend was sat on a couch across from the dance floor, a pretty girl settled on her lap, nipping and tugging at her neck very similarly to the way Amber was doing to yours, and she looked like she wanted to fucking kill someone.

Her radiance had returned, no longer looking frail and ill, but instead beaming like a goddess who had come down the golden steps from the sky and gracing the presence of you mere mortals, if only for a second allowing you to bask in her beauty.

You felt your heart get stuck in your throat with the way she looked at you, her large hand gripping her solo cup so tightly you were sure she’d destroy it if she held it that way any longer. Her eyes made you whimper, and Amber must have assumed it was her making you whine because she smirked against your neck.

“Hmm…you wanna move this party upstairs baby?” Her question caught you off guard, and it took a small squeeze on your hip to break away from Ellie’s intense gaze. You gave her a small hum in response before she chuckled against you. “I said, do you wanna move this-“

Her words were cut off by a very familiar presence next to you.

You weren’t sure if you were drunk out of your mind, or if Ellie really had just crossed the entire house in half of a second, but all of a sudden she was no longer on the couch, and instead she was towering over both you and Amber.

Amber is rolling her eyes once she pries her lips away from your soft skin, staring up at Ellie as she keeps your body pressed against hers. “Are you fucking kidding me man? How many times are you gonna cock block, Williams?”

Ellie is visibly seething, her arms crossed over her chest as she stares down at you both. Her eyes drift towards the way Amber is gripping your hips, and the way your hands slowly drop down from her hair, and she wants to fucking kill someone.

“Leave before I fucking make you Amber”. Her voice is deep, and raspy, most likely from smoking all night. The mere sight of her is making you wet, because she’s glowing like she usually does and she looks like your Ellie again but just….more.

Amber sighs as she gently pushes your body away from hers, her own arms crossing over her chest as she steps closer towards Ellie, silently challenging her as she smirked. When she opens her mouth to say something, Ellie is already placing her palm on her forehead and harshly pushing her back.

Amber stumbles backwards a bit, catching her footing and staring up at Ellie, ready to push back with a punch of her own.

But the look in Ellie’s eyes is fucking scary, you both see it.

Her eyes are dark and low and she almost looks like a fucking animal under the dark light of the house, chest heaving as she watches Amber, ready for everything that she’s going to give her.

But she doesn’t, because she’s scurrying away like a little mouse, and Ellie is smirking in victory as she watches her.

You watch in disbelief as Amber scurries off, and you figure that’ll be the last time you ever hear from her.

You step in front of Ellie, staring up at her with wide eyes, because you truly cannot believe what she’s doing to you.

“Im fucking over this Ellie. You ignore me for an entire week, leave me worried sick about you, then you show up at my house in a weird manic state telling me I need to come to a party with you, and then the following Monday you’re making me fucking cry in a library because of how pathetic you said I am, and now I’m not even allowed to dance with a girl at a party?” Your words were fast, angry babbles leaving your lips as you stared up at her.

And her heart is tugging at the sight of you, because this is the first time she’s been able to talk to you in a week and you’re close to tears, again, and she fucking hates herself for it.

But she also can’t ignore how fucking good you look. Your skirt is hugging your plush hips so well, and it’s making her want to reach out and grab so fucking badly, because she expected this night to go so differently. She wanted to have a good night with you, hold you, tell you how much she wanted you.

And tell you how she had been through literal hell and back within the last two weeks.

Ellie had become a monster because of stupid fucking dare, and she didn’t know how to explain it to you. She didn’t know how to explain to you that the insatiable hunger she had for women could only be satisfied by you.

But you were still staring up at her, waiting for answers that she couldn’t give because she had dug herself into a hole too fucking deep to give you any answers.

So she did the only thing that had been on her mind for the last two weeks, and most likely ever since she had met you. She grabbed you.

She grabbed your wrist and pulled you up the stairs of the frat house to one of the spare rooms that was there, thanking whatever invisible force that was listening that not only was the room clean, but it was empty.

She ignored your whines and huffs as you tried tugging your way out of her grasp, because she knew it was now or never.

When she closed and locked the door behind you, you didn’t even have any time to scold her any further, because her strong hands were gripping your waist and her lips were on yours.

She swallowed the gasp that you let out, your eyes fluttering shut the second you tasted her, she tasted of weed, whiskey, and mint, and you quickly found yourself wanting more of it, because it was authentically her.

You whined against her, tugging at the hair at the nape of her neck as she kissed you desperately. Her tongue was pushing into your mouth and you suddenly felt dizzy, the sudden shift of your entire friendship was too much to handle. Going from not hearing from your best friend at all to having her tongue down your throat was almost as intoxicating as the alcohol that you as consumed earlier.

“Ellie…Els s-slow down…” you moaned out, yet your lips moving against hers said the complete opposite. You burned for her, your body screaming for her hands to be all over you all at once.

You could feel her smirk against your lips, made you whine. She was being so fucking smug, and it made you want her more. You were tugging at her shirt, any anger you had in your body gone, now replaced with the desperate need that you had for her, burning you from the inside out. “Tell me what you want baby..anything…I’ll do anything for you”

Her words were genuine, making you feel light headed. She made it sound like she’d go to the ends of the earth for you, crossing the seven seas for you, whatever you fucking wanted, she’d give it to you.

You moaned softly, confidence coursing through your veins as you grabbed her wrist, guiding her to cup your clothed pussy, letting her feel how wet you were. “Here…need you here Els…please…” you whined out.

Ellie groaned, feeling that familiar animalistic desire fill her up to the fucking brim. Her hunger was usually in her stomach, empty and annoying, but now, with you, she felt it pulsing against her cunt.

“Fuck…come here baby…lemme take care of you…” She walked you back towards the bed, her chest pressed against yours, she kept going until the back of your knees were pressing against the bed and forcing you to sit down on it for her.

You whined softly as you stared up at her in awe, feeling your heart burst with how fucking pretty your best friend looked standing above you. She used her knee to push your legs apart, spreading them further for her before she crawled towards you, pressing her lips against yours once again as she pushed you to sit back further on the bed.

“Lemme make it up to you Bambi…yeah?” Her words made you moan, and you nodded eagerly. For a minute her words from the library were flashing through your mind again your heart tugged, but the attention she was giving you now was truly making up for it.

She kissed down your body, pushing your shirt up and revealing your pretty nipples for her. She hissed, latching her lips around one of them as her hand pressed between your legs, feeling up the wet cotton of your panties.

You were like a dream, your moans and whines making her feel like it wasn’t even real for a moment. The small gasp you let out when she pushed your panties to the side was like music to her ears. You pouted softly when you felt her smirk against, your patience growing thinner and thinner with every passing moment.

“More Ellie..please…fuck…please” you begged, and Ellie wanted nothing more than to please you. She tugged your panties to the side, letting her long fingers dip into your soaked heat.

“Fuck…pussy is so fucking warm for me baby…my perfect fucking girl…gonna be dripping down my fingers if I waited any longer huh?” She questioned. You nodded eagerly, watching her with hazy, lust filled eyes. She reached that familiar spongy spot inside of your cunt and you were sure you were close to tears

Her words were too much, and the feeling of her long fingers, knuckle deep inside of your pussy had you a mess, a mess just for her, and something about that finally satisfied the hunger that she felt all the time.

She began kissing down your body, needing to feel more of you against her. She wanted to be filled up to the brim with you, her senses absolutely overwhelmed with you.

The sight of her slotted between your legs made you moan softly, your eyebrows furrowed as you watched her, a needy moan leaving your throat as your hand came down to tug at her hair gently.

Ellie let out a low groan when she caught sight of your pussy, licking her lips as she pressed her hands against your thighs, spreading you further.

“Fuck…would’a look at that…can practically see you throbbing for me baby…so wet and needy…fuck…lemme taste you baby…” she sighed out, her words muffled as she pressed her plump lips against your soaked core.

Your back arched almost painfully once you felt her skilled tongue flicking your clit back and forth. The feeling was so foreign yet so familiar, as if the girl belonged there, as if she was made to please you.

And she felt the exact same, the feeling of your hands tugging at her hair was like the purest ecstasy she had ever felt. Her green eyes staring up at you as she latched her lips to your weeping pussy, keeping her mouth suctioned onto you as you began grinding against her face.

She wanted to drown in you, she was even sure that if you suffocated her with your thighs, she’d been totally fine with it. Her hands gripped your thighs tightly, stopping you from running away as you wriggled beneath her, unable to deal with the pleasure that she was giving you.

But she gave you no choice but to take it. Her lips were latched onto, making your back arch as you felt yourself cumming all over her face.

Her eyes were rolling to the back of her head as she moaned into you, and it was almost like she was the one that was experiencing the most electrifying orgasm that she had experienced in her entire life, and not you.

The pleasure was soon swapped out with an overwhelming feeling of sensitivity that was consuming you with every flick of her tongue. “Ellie…mmm…fuck..come here…wanna kiss you…please..” you whined out.

Her lips unlatched from your pussy with a pop, and it prompted you to whimper softly. Her face was soaked with your arousal, but her eyes were filled with pure love and adoration as she crawled her way up to you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. The taste of yourself made you moan, and Ellie was already pushing her tongue into your mouth and prepping you for what else she had planned.

Her words were muffled against your lips, as she didn’t want to leave your mouth for even a few seconds. “Can you give me one more baby? Wanna fuck you….can you do that for me baby?” You whined softly against her, already nodding and tugging at her top.

“Want it…fuck…I can do it I promise…please Ellie…” you sighed out, your hand slipping underneath her shirt and giving her nipple a soft pinch. She hissed softly at the feeling before she nodded, pressing another kiss to your lips. “That’s my girl…lay back for me baby…” She moaned out, her hands massaging your thighs as she gently pushed you back to lay on the bed.

You took it upon yourself to pull your top off, leaving you only in your skirt as you stared up at her. Ellie peeled her top off as well before she undid her jeans, pushing them down along with her boxers, leaving her naked above you.

You brought your hands up to undo the button to your denim skirt before she grabbed your hand, shaking her head as she swiftly pulled off your soaked panties. “Leave it…I like this skirt on you” she smirked down at you, causing you to blush.

She grabbed your thigh, slotting herself between you and pressing her wet pussy against yours. The second she felt you, she let out a long, loud moan. It was like the hunger she had been cursed with had finally been satisfied once she felt herself press up against you. She looked down at you, watching the way your slick and hers mixed together, coating your pretty pussy and glistening just for her. Her hand gripped your ankle, and you watched in awe as her tattoo flexed as she thrusted against you, her pussy bringing you pleasure that you had truly never felt before.

“H-Ahh! Fuck…Ellie please…please go faster…mmm…fuck fuck fuck fuck” you moaned out, your eyes squeezing shut. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of her pussy on yours.

A firm hand gripping your cheeks made your eyes flutter open, and you gasped softly at Ellie staring down at you, her lip tugged between her teeth as she groaned and moaned above you.

“Don’t close your eyes..you need to fucking look at me when I’m fucking you. Tell me who’s making you feel this good, tell me who you fucking belonged to” she gritted out, squishing your cheeks together so that your eyes would stay on yours.

And you always knew the answer, you’d always belonged to Ellie. From the moment she found you, you were hers, and there was no way you could ever deny that.

You moaned loudly at her words, reaching your hand towards her and catching her nipple in your hand, cupping her boob and flicking her nipple between your fingers before you nodded. “M’yours El…all yours…always…mmmph-…have been…ahh I’m gonna cum!”

Your words made her insides coil, and she felt like she could die happily right the and there. She nodded, prompting you further as she moved her hips faster, speeding up the pace of her pussy grinding down against yours.

“Cum for me, fuck….I fucking love you…i fucking love you Bambi…fuck!”

Your orgasm hit you like a train the second she said it, and you weren’t even totally sure if she really did say it. Sure you’d told each other you loved one another before, but god it was never like this. It wasn’t like she was on top of you fucking herself down onto you, but she was saying it, and you felt like you’d pass out.

And if you thought you were hallucinating before, god were you wrong now.

Because you swore when she threw her head back and came on your pussy, you saw pretty, pointy white fangs gleaming in the dark room.

She collapsed on top of you, breathing hard as she pressed her face into your neck. You stared up at the ceiling, her hands wrapping around your waist and keeping your naked body close to her own.

You were in shock, because your best friend had just fucked the day lights out of you and you weren’t totally sure if it was a dream, or if it was real, and she told you she loved you…

And you could feel her fangs grazing against your neck.

[yonpote]

ok heres how i split up the dnp eras (loosely based on dan's timeline in his interview w anthony)

2009-2011: the Sillies era :3 dan refered to it as being a dumb teen just posting cuz he was bored, which is like, thats what all of youtube culture was at this time. they met and like fell in love or whatever you know the lore dont you. phil moved from his parents home to his first apartment in manchester, and dan technically moved to uni but really he moved into phil's apartment to take advantage of his washing machine and ps1 and. yknow. other stuff. they officially moved in together in 2011 yippee hooray, the phanchester apartment holds a special place in my heart

2012-2013: THE SHIFT. they started getting Serious about youtube as a career, doing more stuff w the radio, superamazingproject started in 2011 but THE SHIFT is very easy to observe when you compare the first season of sap to the last season. ALSO. they were NOT A DOUBLE ACT AND NOT GAY 🙄. it could also be called the No Homo era lmao idk this is when a lot of shitty things were happening wrt leaked information, harassment of their families, and just generally becoming more in the spotlight especially while still in the closet being a horrible experience. but also, they moved to london and got cool opportunities with radio stuff and were starting to actually make a living on this shit.

2014-2016: Peak Dan And Phil™ Era. at the height of their popularity. they realized oh shit, we ARE a double act and not only does everyone enjoy us best as a double act, WE enjoy working together. tabinof, tatinof, dapgo, still doing the radio every month up until they start touring, 7 second challenge app, gamingmas, what the hell DIDNT they do during this time period (what they didnt do was uhh take care of themselves and not overwork and not blur their work and personal lives so much to the point where they felt like the whole apartment was a film set.)

2017-2018: Gay Softlaunch Era (aka post-baking aka glass closet) the baby steps toward authenticity, moved to the double apartment to separate work and life, ii's whole theme, dan talking abt depression, phil getting the quiff, both of them being gay as hell in every way other than saying it explicitly. important things of note: TRUTH BOMBS dropped, Interactive Introverts happened, still uploading gaming vids and honestly by the end you could feel their fatigue. and then they hiatused dapg.

2019-2022: ok these four years each feel like whole eras in themselves, but also theres an overarching theme. THE GAY ERA.

2019: im gonna futher split this year in half. first half- dad left to buy milk so other dad is taking care of us. rough six months for dannies im sure. important phil thing of note- he changed his film set from his "bedroom" to a fairly basic but cute shelf backdrop. honestly prob didnt wanna keep pretending that was his bedroom considering.... second half- DAN AND PHIL GAY. dan uploads his magnum opus. phil comes out via tweet. they go to japan and its really gay and it's The Trip to japan for them like yes they first went in 2015 and again in 2023, but Japhan 2.0 Was The One. what does this mean? proposal? anniversary? idk exactly but it was gay as hell dude and theyve talked about that trip with such love in their hearts.

2020: Phandemic (sorry that was bad) but also where tf is dan again? even with the big C-word happening, it was business as usual for phil, regular vids but make em gayer, caught a pigeon nbd, and end of the year introduces the Stereo app show Phil and Phriends where he's had chats with pj, louise, his brother, seth everman?????, and finally. dan reappears. they reveal that they bought and FULLY PLANNED a house together and are ready to move!

2021: they don't move house for another like six months! basically their house was (and is??) still being worked on AND they were in lockdown AND turns out at the end of last year, they were kicked from their Life apartment and were now living in the Work apartment so you can imagine what all of this can do to their psyche and lowkey they were getting sick of each other like it wasnt just bordering on phivorce it was nearly Phurder. Phidow. but to fill the time so that DOESNT happen, my favorite fucking thing ever happens: Lockdown Lads (and all the other names). the first taste of what a dnp podcast would sound like, with the added bonus of chaotic listener interaction. oh yeah also dan wrote a mental health guide book whatever (IM KIDDING I REALLY LIKE YWGTTN I WROTE LIKE TWO REVIEWS ON IT NOW) and they finally become Homosexual Homeowners. theres quite a bit more dnp content this year, dan being on phils channel a bit more, the phodcasts, dan's gay and not proud special.... oh yeah and hometown showdown i guess AND TEXT VIDEO 2!!! my favorite and my namesake!!!!!!!

2022: Prophecy Year..... but they didnt get married. dan returns with another longass video to say: hey i hate being a youtuber and also youtube majorly fucked me over. but also fuck that im gonna do a weird talk show and ALSO GO ON TOUR WITH THIS APOCALYPSE THEME! phil actually... slows down this year. more dan uploads than phil somehow??? but also Dan Is Leaving me is posted and i go completely insane and become the deranged individual you see today. WHICH FINALLY LEADS US TOOOOOO

2023-present: The Unhinged Era. dan's tour was a huge Emotional success for him but uh not without its hiccups due to management and all that and i think he and phil finally realize. Fuck It Who Cares. dan flies back to england FROM AUSTRALIA to make sure he can be with his future ex-husband on his birthday. CAKE HEART EMOJI. YELLOW PLAID SHACKET. they go on a gamer date and post a picture of playing footsies in a cab. THE PHUDE HAPPENS. they go to japan again and while this one will never be The One it was still a well earned holiday this time with bryony! and they took a bunch of very cute film camera pictures.... THIS IS ALL JUST THE FIRST HALF OF 2023 BTW. in phil news, he talks about going to therapy and figuring out how to manage his anxiety!!!! he changes his hair again!! he hires an editor, phan is his otp, he teases about the gaming channel a couple of times but so many of us already dropped any hope of that returning- OH WAIT WHAT THE FUCK?!!!? HUH!??!? they returned, and more chaotic than ever before. the gayness upped to the max, the Weirdness on full speed, the Horniness at Very Scary Levels Oh God Stop Talking About Dogging, phil can swear uncensored now???? and this energy has continued into today...

[superpowereddonut]

Sirius Black x Reader

This came to me in a dream and I had to write it down! I've never posted any of my own works anywhere, but figured it's a short little one-shot that I may as well put out there even if no one ever reads it! If I feel inspired I might turn this into a proper fic, but idk yet.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader (No use of Y/N)

A/N: set at Hogwarts, fake dating trope

Warnings: Swearing, Sirius isn't gay (even though Wolfstar is obviously canon lol)

Word count: 1401

*****

Barely catching her breath enough to mutter the password, the Gryffindor girl rushed into the common room, all windswept hair, flushed cheeks and wide eyes. She spotted the Marauders all lounging by the fire (except Peter - he was always off snogging Dorcus in a closet these days) and made a beeline straight for them. Remus was squashed awkwardly in an armchair, a book open against his long legs where they were draped over one arm and his back resting against the other. James was sitting up on one end of the adjacent couch, his transfiguration homework in his lap, with Sirius sprawled at the other end, legs stretched out in front of him, head tipped back and eyes closed, listening to the music emanating from the record player nearby.

She felt a twinge of regret when the cosy atmosphere broke as she stormed over, her gaze flicking over each of them before settling on Sirius, who had cracked an eye open to look at her, now standing on the carpet in front of the fire.

“Black, I need you to be my boyfriend.”

James and Remus both snapped their heads up at that, and Sirius’ eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“Lucas Davis just asked me out again!” The three boys in front of her seemed to let out a simultaneous groan. They were almost as sick as she was of Davis, the irritating Gryffindor two years above them who had been hellbent on wooing her for almost four months now. Unlike James, who had been smitten with Lily since they were eleven and asked her out at least once a week, Davis was aggressive - cornering her in half-empty hallways only to speak over her, invading her personal space whenever he got the chance, and making creepy sexual innuendos anytime a teacher was out of ear-shot. At this point it didn’t even seem to be about her. He just liked the chase and enjoyed making girls squirm. Even girls who hated his guts.

“Just tell him to piss off”, James suggested with a shrug

“Oh jeez, thanks James! Why didn’t I think of that?” She rolled her eyes, “I’ve told him to piss off a hundred times, in a hundred different ways! But he’s relentless- convinced I’m playing ‘hard to get’ or some bullshit like that. The only thing I think would actually get the misogynistic bastard to leave me alone is if he thinks I’m already seeing someone. So,” she said, turning again to Sirius, “can you just pretend to be my boyfriend, Black?”

“Why me? Ask Remus - you two already spend all your time together, surely dating isn’t that much of a stretch!” She shook her head impatiently, “He’s gayer than Bowie and everyone knows it!”. The boy in question huffed a laugh, “Cheers, love.” She ignored him.

“Get James to do it then!” Sirius exclaimed, and the messy-haired boy next to him opened his mouth, sitting up straighter. He probably would do it, she thought, because he would do just about anything for his friends. The noble idiot.  “Oh please, you think anyone would believe that this lovesick fool has moved on from Lily?” She retorted, making a vague gesture towards James, who just grinned ruefully and relaxed back into his seat, nodding his head in agreement.

“And you think anyone would believe we are a couple?” She paused for a second, unsure of how to answer. Although she and Sirius had always been… sort of… friends, it was largely only because of her friendship with the other Marauders - mainly studying with Remus and playing quidditch with James. While they inevitably spent a lot of time together due to their mutual friends, it was true that they were at each other’s throats more often than not, she supposed. Remus was complaining just last week about their constant bickering and their incessant need to outcompete each other in every little thing. 

She was saved from answering by James. “Actually, a Ravenclaw in our charms class - you know, Macmillan? - asked me if you two were dating a couple of weeks ago.” 

They both turned to look at him, shocked, and he just shrugged, “he said he wanted to ask you to Hogsmeade but wanted to make sure nothing was going on between you and Sirius”. Before she could unscramble her thoughts enough to answer, Remus piped up from his armchair. “A girl in the year below asked me something similar recently. Thought she might have a shot with Sirius, but wasn’t sure. She said something about you two having ‘chemistry’ at that party after the last quidditch match.” She fought the blush that spread across her cheeks at the memory. They’d thrashed Slytherin last month and she’d gotten pretty drunk at the party in Gryffindor tower afterwards. She always got a bit flirty when she drank, and Sirius was a shameless flirt even when he was stone cold sober. They’d traded a few harmless remarks early in the night, and later, though she couldn’t really remember how it happened, she ended up dancing to some ABBA songs with her back pressed against Sirius' chest, his arms around her waist and his hot breath on her neck. It hadn’t led anywhere - in fact she had been pretending it never happened - but she still felt a burning pit in her stomach whenever she thought about the way he had felt pressed against her, or the way he had grinned and licked his lips when she turned around and they danced chest to chest.

She shook herself slightly and forced herself to look at Sirius, who was frowning at Remus. “Plus,” she said bitingly, “you’ve established a pretty solid reputation for fucking anything that moves”. Sirius scowled at her before roughly shoving himself up from the couch and strolling past her to the record player that was now sitting idle, the last track having finished. She watched his tense shoulders as he carefully selected a new record and switched them over. She softened her tone, “I’m sure Davis will move on and start pestering some other poor girl before long. I just need you to play the overprotective boyfriend role until he backs off.” She shared a glance with Remus and James when he still didn’t respond. “Please,” she finally relented. When Black still didn’t answer, now decidedly fiddling with the tuning knobs on the record player, she sighed. She’d have to find another way to deter Davis and it’d have to be soon - she didn’t know how many more times she could hear his sleazy “hiya sweetheart”, before she’d resort to hexing him. And that would probably just make him re-double his efforts.

She barely noted the sound of the gryffindor portrait opening to let someone into the common room, but then- “There ya are sweetheart! Bin lookin’ all over for ya!” She gritted her teeth, turning around to see Lucas Davis stalking towards her, that stupid fucking smirk on his face. “Can’t think why, given that you saw me an hour ago and I told you to ‘leave me the fuck alone’”, she snapped. She could see both Remus and James tense in her peripherals, probably preparing to tell Davis to ‘fuck off’ themselves, but Sirius remained silent behind her. Davis either didn’t notice the two boys glaring at him, or didn’t care, and he only smiled wider, “aw come on princess, don’ be like that!” He whined, “I think you just need-” 

But she never found out what he thought she needed, as Sirius suddenly stepped up to her side, casually slung an arm around her shoulder and drawled, “You heard my girl, fuck off and leave her alone.” Davis visibly recoiled, and she might have laughed at his shocked expression had she not been entirely preoccupied by Sirius' comforting warmth as he leant against her. “Your girl?” He sputtered. 

“My girl.” Sirius repeated, and she could hear the mocking smile in his voice, “Girlfriend, paramour, lover, whatever. The point is: fuck. off.” Even Remus seemed to be hiding a grin as Davis stood there, dumbstruck, his eyes darting between her and Sirius as though stupefied. She relaxed into Sirius embrace and intertwined her fingers with his where they hung over her shoulder. “Bye Davis”, she crooned, with a smug smile. He seemed to struggle for another moment before turning on his heel and striding out the door without another word.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Was Javier Garcia "not bisexual enough" in ANF?

I feel like everyone reading the title of this essay is going to say, "Well, yeah? Obviously? Javi didn't show any interest in men outside of that one optional moment of flirting with Jesus and then he was confirmed bisexual by one of the writers after the season ended. If they wanted to make him bi, they should've done more with it because that's not enough."

That's a commonly expressed opinion no matter where you look, and it's not like it's unfounded, either.

On a surface level, I agree. While I understand the excitement of learning a character is canonically bi, in the case of Javier Garcia it still feels like celebrating crumbs tossed to us by Telltale after they had their cake and ate it, too. They snuck in some bisexual representation at the last minute for queer audiences without it being explicit so the homophobes wouldn't throw a tantrum.

Stuff like that happens. Sometimes the representation is subtle or implied in the subtext. Or, the queerness is condensed into something digestible and sanitized for straight audiences. Or, it's stated after the fact with little to no actual evidence to support it in canon.

Hell, even if it is obvious, like with Clementine being bisexual in TFS, you still have biphobes who will die on the hill of denial. Even now, in the year 2024, we have people insisting "Clem being bi came out of nowhere! They should've showed it in earlier seasons if they wanted it to make sense. I'm not homophobic but here's my essay PROVING that violentine is bad and forced and that Clem isn't bi!" Or, on the other extreme, "Clementine is a lesbian to me, bisexuality isn't real :)"

But I've already talked about Clementine and what her bisexuality means to me. I want to talk about Javier now.

He's an interesting case, both in the way his queerness was handled and portrayed in the game, and how audiences received it... as in, a lot of people said, "That's great and all, but is it really representation when it's not actually present? It's not enough."

That. That right there: "It's not enough." That's what I want to break down and examine.

Is Javier Garcia not valid as a queer character because he didn't reach this concept of "enough" in the eyes of the player? But what would have been "enough" then? Do people really understand what they're asking for when they discuss what they think Telltale should've done? Does it actually matter if Javier is queer when it comes to the plot and his journey as the protagonist, and if it doesn't matter, is that okay?

Should we just accept these crumbs sprinkled in our hands?

I want to make it clear that I'm but one bisexual examining a bisexual character and doing an analysis. I've climbed out of my bog to write this because I want to discuss Javier and the writing as it pertains to his queerness, or lack thereof. I'm also aware that I'm not providing any irrefutable, concrete evidence here one way or the other; I'm speculating about Javier through a queer lens. I encourage any other bi, pan, or other queer person to add to these discussion points, whether in agreement or not.

Prior to TFS, the queer representation in TWDG wasn't great...

Though the games do get progressively gayer as the seasons go on. And some even get to live! Progress!

S1 had... uh, none? Wait, is that right? ...Yeah, no, I'm tuning my gay radio and it isn't picking up any signals, Captain. Nothing gay in these waters.

S2 had Walter and Matthew, who both died shortly after being introduced. There's some homoerotic undertones between Luke and Nick but nothing was ever confirmed. Also, they both died, so... not great.

The Michonne mini-series had Jonas and Zachary, but Zachary will always die no matter what. Jonas can die, too, but it's determinant. Paige was confirmed to be queer by the writers, though. Uh, progress? Kind of? Not really, it's never talked about and you only pick up on her feelings for Sam if you squint and pay close attention. But hey, at least she got to live!

Then, in ANF we have Javier, our playable protagonist, and Paul "Jesus" Monroe, a gay character who also showed up in the comics and TV show. Would'ja look at that, they both got to live! I should also mention nothing was ever confirmed about Ava but... c'mon, y'know? Captain, there's a faint signal on my radio; when you know, you know. Except she died, to, so... still not great.

Then came TFS, who really said, "Screw you, here's all the gay!"

They gave us bisexual Clementine with both of her romance routes. Violet, Minerva, James, mentions of his past boyfriend, Charlie... Aasim was planned to be bisexual and I don't see why we can't reclaim that for him, and one day I'll crawl out of my bog to write my analysis on the queer-coding/subtext of Louis' character because if I read "lmao Louis is such a Straight" one more time, I'm going to let the gators take a bite out of me just so that I can feel something other than irritation for once.

Sigh. It's so hard being a "Louis ain't straight" truther out here, so few understand.

My plights aside, there's no avoiding the queerness of TFS. Even if your Clementine doesn't romance anyone, or romances Louis, you can't avoid the fact that Violet and Minerva were girlfriends at one point. It's determinant if James will tell you about Charlie, but that doesn't change the fact that James is gay.

But it runs deeper than that. This is a story about these troubled youth who were abandoned by their families and teachers, the ones who were supposed to love and help them, because "something was wrong with them, they did something bad... they need fixing."

These young people have to fight against an oppressive group of adults looking to steal their autonomy, change them, mold them into what's expected to survive. Their identities don't matter to the raiders. All the raiders care about is erasing such identities so that they fall in line and obey, and if they don't comply, they die... or worse.

Yes, it's a story about Clementine and AJ finally finding a home, but no matter how you play, it's also a narrative steeped in queer themes and subtext. You can tell that the people who made it not only cared about these things and wanted them weaved throughout the story, but that some of them were queer themselves.

But where does that leave us with Javier?

With everything TFS did, it's easy to look back at ANF with a critical eye and pinpoint its flaws in every aspect. While I don't believe it's the worst game Telltale ever made [I mean, Minecraft Story Mode exists], in my opinion, it's the messiest game in the main series. It's not bad, but I'd much rather play S1 or TFS.

For all the criticism it received, most players did like Javier as the playable protagonist. Well, they did once they got over the fact that Clementine wouldn't be taking on that role again, and was instead relegated to only being playable in flashbacks.

Javi's personality can vary depending on player choices, but for the most part, he's a charismatic man who loves his family. He used to be a professional baseball player before he was booted from the league for gambling. He can be cocky and sarcastic, and it usually lands him in trouble. He tends to cope and deflect using humor. He has a past of being irresponsible and selfish; he wasn't even there when his father died, despite knowing he was dying of cancer. His relationship with David is complicated, only made messier if he and Kate end up together. He's trying his best... for the most part. Javi even ends up being a father figure to Gabe and Mariana after they all thought David was dead, and he's very open about his grief following Mariana's death.

But given everything we learn about him while playing ANF, how do we know Javi isn't straight? After all, his main love interest is Kate, a woman. He also has opportunities to flirt with Eleanor, another woman. He doesn't show any signs of being attracted to any of the men who are around... until Paul "Jesus" Monroe.

At the end of ep5, Javi and Jesus have a conversation where one of the dialogue options is, "I like you, Jesus." Granted, that doesn't have to mean "like-like;" you can say you like someone without any romantic intentions. Plus, Jesus IS a cool character. Players who picked that option likely weren't thinking of it in a romantic sense.

It's the way that Jesus responds to this option, though: a flirtatious smile, lidded eyes, the deep dip of his voice.

Javier: I gotta admit, man. You're a fucking badass! Jesus: You're a real charmer... You know that? Through and through.

It's not difficult to see Jesus is being flirtatious, and Javi sees it, too. How does he react?

Forgive me, but I'm about to over-analyze this six-second gif. I love his reaction so much. That subtle jump of his shoulders as if a jolt just ran through his gut at the way Jesus lowers his voice. Surprised, and then the movement of the brows, the slide of the eyes, and the little upturn of the mouth says to me "Oh… oh." Caught off guard, perhaps a little bashful.

Option 1: Javier: Oh, you know what they say. Takes one to know one. Jesus: That they do. Option 2: Javier: Are you really sure you don't want to stay? There's room. Jesus: Oh, uh... I'm sure there is, but... we got other people depending on us, Javi. Just the way it is. Option 3: Javier: Meant to tell you... That, uh, armor you got is great. Jesus: Oh... Oh, uh... Hmm... Well, uh... Thanks, um... It gets the job done.

Javi knows what Jesus is getting at regardless of your choice. He understands this is flirtatious, but is startled since he likely didn't consider that Jesus likes men, too. We the audience have a better chance at knowing if, especially those familiar with the character from the comics and the TV show. Javi wouldn't because why would he? It's not like Jesus is obvious and flaunting with the fact that he's gay.

What's funny about that is, given our topic of discussion, we could also argue that Jesus wasn't gay enough, couldn't we? If we're going to pick on Javier for not being more open about his sexuality, then it's only fair that we pick on other characters, no? Did Jesus need to be gayer? Would that improve ANF?

In fact, now that I think about, was James gay enough in TFS? Was one moment where he talks about his boyfriend, a scene that's determinant so not every player got it, enough? What about Minerva? We know she and Violet were girlfriends before Marlon traded her away, that's information that's unavoidable, but did she actually reach this apparent high standard of "enough" in the eyes of the audience?

Are we entitled to unequivocal evidence of queerness, and the heaping amount we deem necessary, otherwise it's not good enough and shouldn't be bothered with at all? Are more casual displays of queerness bad?

I can already hear people jumping to defend James and Minerva, and likely Jesus, against this because "it's totally different!"

Sure. Javier's situation is different from James, Jesus, and Minerva's respective situations. James actually uses the word boyfriend and he keeps a picture of him and Charlie in his pocket. Jesus appears in The Walking Dead universe outside of the game with more evidence of queerness. Minerva's past relationship with Violet is made clear even when you don't pursue Violet's route, not to mention the underlying metaphor of conversion with her being changed/brainwashed/traumatized by the raiders to be just like them.

Javier is different because that scene with Jesus is the only in-game evidence of his queerness, right? Then he had to be confirmed as bisexual by one of the writers once ANF ended.

Surely, they could've brought up the fact that Javier's bi earlier, right? Made mentions of a past boyfriend, or had a flashback about Javi coming out to his family? Why only let him flirt with Kate and Eleanor? Why wasn't there an option to flirt with Tripp, or some other male character? What about a darker turn where David didn't accept Javi for it? David's portrayed as an antagonist, anyway, why not toss a little homophobia into the mix? Why not reveal it if Javi rejects Kate? What if Kate was so hurt by the rejection that she asked him, "It's true, David was right. It's because you like men, isn't it?"

It feels like they decided at the last minute to just toss it in, like someone walked into Telltale one day and said, "Y'all, I just thought of the funniest thing- Javi should be bi so that we can make jokes about him swinging both ways!" And then everyone clapped.

Here's the deal: Something about this sits differently with me, and that's probably thanks to one of ANF's writers, Adam Esquenazi Douglas.

He's the one that confirmed Javier as bisexual.

Adam had his hand in writing for 4/5 episodes, and he said he wrote the scene where Javi can flirt back with Jesus, but it's that last line of his: "After all, they always say write what you know."

I don't know how many of you who are reading this are writers, or creators in general, but I assume many of you are. It doesn't matter if you write fanfiction, create fanart, write essay posts or headcanons or whatever. I have a firm belief that creative people pour so much of themselves into their work that, if given enough material and studied enough, you can get a glimpse of their soul. Even if done unintentionally, we project ourselves into these works; the characters, themes, conclusions, everything.

Am I suggesting that Adam was secretly a bisexual mastermind who threaded queerness throughout the entirety of ANF and we were all too blind to see it? No, and if he did, then he needs to step forward and tell me so that I can study ANF frame by frame to compile the secret evidence into a new essay.

...Actually, on second thought, maybe don't do that to me, Adam.

My point is, yes, it's true that it's likely Javi being bi was added in at the last minute... but can we really dismiss Javier as "not bisexual enough" when Adam had influence over Javi's character throughout the whole season? And I ask again: is the casual queerness of Javier bad?

Time to speculate and answer some of those questions about Javier

Let's talk about Kate for a minute. She is Javier's main love interest, whether you choose to accept her feelings or not, so she can give us a good point of reference for what Javi looks for in a partner.

Kate and Javi share a similar sense of humor that bounces well between the two. Kate wants to travel, Javi's well traveled from his time as a profession baseball player. They both exist in this space of "we're kind of the family screw up." Granted, Javi's more in it than Kate is, but you can see parts of her that come through where she's a little rebellious, a little not good enough [ironically]. They both feel trapped in their situations; Kate in her marriage, Javi in a slow downward spiral of not knowing what to do with himself now that he's booted from his career. They have complicated relationships with David, and together, they've raised Gabe and Mariana through the years after they believed David was dead.

They're a lot alike in many ways, so this is hardly an opposites attract type of romance.

What's interesting is if you then look at Jesus, he has some similar qualities to Kate; a sense of humor even when things are looking bleak, they to help and protect people, are willing to throw themselves in danger to save Richmond. Then if you add Eleanor, the other person Javi has some flirtatious dialogue with, you can apply those qualities to her, as well... though the big difference with her is Eleanor sells the group out because she wants to stay.

With the little information we have, we can speculate on Javi's preferences. He prefers someone more similar to him. I know, I know, everyone loves a good opposites attract tale, they're so different but similar at their cores, they fill in each other's gaps, yada yada... except not everyone is like that, obviously.

My working theory is that a partner who would act as the opposite of Javi would be someone who acts like David... and does Javi really want to date someone like his brother? Though that then opens up a whole can of worms since if Javi and Kate are so similar, and David married Kate... this isn't an essay about David, but that's certainly a thing to chew on.

With that, I suppose we can answer the question, "But if Javi's bi, why didn't he flirt with any men prior to Jesus?"

What men?

No, seriously, where are all these men Javi's supposed to flirt with? Are they hiding? I know you hid them in the game, Adam, where are they?

Wait, do you mean Tripp?

I don't want to step on the toes of any Javi/Tripp shippers out there, but let's actually think about this. When we meet Tripp, Javi's just been separated from his family. He was knocked out and tied up by these assholes who caught him siphoning their gas, then this teenager cut down a tree which resulted in him getting into a car accident. Said teenager then tried to rob him before agreeing to escort him back to his family but first, they gotta go to Prescott. I wouldn't say Javier's in the flirtatious mood by the time he meets Tripp.

But he can flirt with Eleanor, right?

So, why not Tripp?

Because Tripp is a man and he has feelings for Eleanor. That's made quite clear from ep1. He told Javi that he and Eleanor had a thing once. Sure, Javi could still harmlessly flirt with him, but have we stopped to consider that Javi isn't as confident with openly flirting with men like he is women? After all, who initiated the actual flirting between him and Jesus in ep5? That would be Jesus, and it happens after the danger is over and Javi doesn't have to worry about dying for a little bit.

Listen, I understand that Tripp is big. He's built like the lumberjack of our dreams. He has a nice beard. He's not afraid to talk about his feelings even when he fumbles all over them. He's strong and caring and brave. He could easily toss me over his shoulder like I'm a sack of flour and then throw me across the room... what's not to love? Surely, if Javi actually liked men, he would've made a move on Tripp at some point.

Except, would he? Is Tripp even Javi's type? Because I'm pressing X to doubt.

Also, why does he need to?

This is where I question why some people think Javi has to flirt with a bunch of men to "prove" he's bisexual? I'm sorry, do you believe there's a quota all bisexuals have to meet to maintain their membership card? You have to flirt with this many genders a month otherwise they'll revoke your premium status?

Sometimes I wonder if people unintentionally lean into the "promiscuous bisexual" stereotype, or if they do genuinely believe that bisexuals have to express interest in multiple people of different genders in order to prove themselves queer enough.

Did we ever stop to think that Javi's just not like that? An open flirt, I mean. Yeah he's charismatic and funny and all that, but Kate, Eleanor, and Jesus all initiate the romantic dialogue with him first; Kate tells him she needs to get laid hint hint, Eleanor calls him pretty, and Jesus calls him a real charmer.

Tripp never gives him any indication that he's interested or that he even likes men, so why would Javi make a move?

As for any other man? Again, what men? Max? Dr. Lingard? Clint? Conrad? And forget adding a new character to ANF; it could barely handle the characters it already had and you want to add a new one just for Javier? Let's face it, Tripp was the best option and that's just it, he wasn't an option.

"But my Javi WOULD flirt with Tripp and the game didn't give me the option!"

And there it is.

Javier isn't your OC

ANF isn't a massive RPG where starting a new game brings you to a character creation menu, and you get to decide every factor about the character you want to play.

ANF is an episodic, point-and-click Telltale game, and Javier isn't your OC. Like with Lee and Clementine, there are some things you just don't get a say in, and I think that gets to the player sometimes.

When I sit down to play a Dragon Age game, I go into it knowing that my character is mine, I get to decide who they are and who they're interested in. DA as an RPG has the capacity to give me a bunch of romantic options both in and out of my party that shape who my character is.

When I sit down to play TWDG, I go into it knowing that while I have my own Lee, Clementine, and Javi, I didn't create them but I am influencing who they become. I know it's a Telltale game, and that means limitations.

These games have always had the "illusion of choice" criticism chucked at them from the beginning. Usually that pertains to the choices you make that affect the overall story, but ultimately don't matter in the end.

For example, it doesn't matter if you save Carley or Doug because no matter what, they both die. My counter-argument for this has always been that the choice does matter in the way that it shapes your playable character, and how if affects the characters around you. A Lee who saved Doug over Carley had reasons for making that choice, and in turn, has a different experience going forward than a player who chose to save Carley.

Does it matter who shoots Duck in the woods after he's bitten? Or if he's left to turn? No matter what, he's going to die, so is that the illusion of choice? I don't believe so, because it does matter. It affects player experience.

That being said, I believe players who become invested in this series, especially those who engage in fandom, develop a warped sense of what should've been, forgetting the nature of a Telltale game. I know this because that's the foundation my blog was built on.

Javier Garcia isn't a blank slate. You didn't create him. He had a life before the start of the game, he has a personality that you didn't choose for him, and there are things you have no control over. If anything, we act as an influence over the TWDG playable protagonists. Most every option given is something that could reasonably play into their character. I say "most" because we all remember that [GLASS HIM] moment where Javi tells David that Kate's going to leave him and we were all like "THAT'S NOT WHAT I THOUGHT THAT OPTION WAS!" and it felt out of character.

Anyway, you don't dictate who these characters are but you get sway over the direction they take.

Javi can be a real prick to everyone, but that plays into the selfish and entitled part established with his character from the beginning. You can play him as genuine, trying to step up and do better for the sake of his family, another thing brought up from the very beginning.

"But why couldn't I make Javi flirt with Trip!?"

Because it's not an option. I don't know what else to tell you. I don't know what you want me to tell you.

ANF is a Telltale game that centers about Javier Garcia. It's a story about a man who, prior to the outbreak, screwed up and was wasting his life away. His relationship to his family sat upon a rocky foundation, crumbled by his own hands. He wasn't even there when his father died. We follow this man through a story of a family trying to survive, we watch him reunite with his brother and risk losing everything that kept him grounded and going. He experiences grief and anger and sorrow and happiness. In the end, he comes out of it all a different man, for better or worse.

That man just also happened to be bisexual.

And that's the thing: This isn't a story about Javier's sexuality. He isn't going around making moves on these elusive men that mastermind Adam Esquenazi Douglas maybe hid in the game somewhere because the game isn't about Javi liking men.

It's a game about his complicated relationships with Kate and David made messy by Kate being in love with him, and whether or not Javi loves her, too.

It's about Javi helping Clementine back on her path after she's been alone and bitter for so long. It's about them fighting to take down a group of people doing really shitty things to other communities. It's about losing Mariana and avenging her by killing the man who shot her. It's about Gabe feeling conflicted about his father, a man he always wanted to be just like, after realizing that David isn't this idealized figure Gabe thought he was.

It's about the promise Javi made to his father.

The fact that Javi happens to be bi doesn't matter in the grand scheme of the plot. It's just something that's apart of who he is, but because it's a small detail we feel was added in at the last minute, we decide it's not enough.

But what if it is enough? Do we even truly know what this concept of "enough" is?

Throughout writing this piece, I've found myself in a loop.

I'm happy Javier is bisexual. -> But should I be? -> We shouldn't settle for crumbs, we deserve more explicit representation. -> But is there really anything wrong with casual representation where the story doesn't focus on sexuality? It doesn't take away from other stories that do. -> I'm happy Javier is bisexual. -> But should I be?

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Queer stories are important and our voices need to be heard. We need stories that don't shy away from experiences that are hard to stomach. We need queer stories told by queer people. We need stories that are unapologetic, that aren't afraid to face their audience with pride. Stories that don't say "yeah but we have to bend a little to the bigots to maximize our profits." We need these stories that inspire us, hurt us, make us cry and piss us off. We need queer stories with happy endings that give us hope, that push us to seek a better future so that new generations of queer people don't feel alone in their struggles. We need queer stories that make us feel heard, seen.

Do stories with casual representation of queer characters fit in there somewhere, too? I think they do, because TFS is a casual representation story.

Clementine is bi and it isn't a big deal; she never has a moment where she's openly questioning, she doesn't have this big coming-out scene, there's no tears shed or anything. She isn't stomping around with her bi pride flag and announcing who she is with a heartwarming speech.

She just is.

Same thing with Violet. She never comes out to Clementine as a lesbian, no one ever calls her that, she just is.

Clementine's romance with Violet is treated just as it is with Louis, sincere and normal. No one questions her or Violet because to the Ericson crew, it is normal. They knew Violet and Minerva were together before but no one has any quips about it, positive or negative.

If you romance Violet but then save Louis, he makes mention that Clementine and Violet are close so why save him? But Louis, for as much as people side eye him for making jokes and never taking anything seriously, doesn't say anything more. He could've made a joke, "Ah, you like girls, I guess I never stood a chance then, haha." He doesn't, because it's not something out of the ordinary for him and it's not something he feels the need to pry over.

If you go fishing with Violet and Brody, you find the carved heart with Violet and Minerva's initials and AJ asks what it means. Clementine can tell him they were girlfriends, and AJ doesn't go, "Oh, that's weird," or "Huh, I didn't know girls could like each other." He just goes, "Oh. Love." and moves on because he grew up differently, it isn't a big deal to.

Even the antagonists aren't out here spewing homophobia, at least that I recall.

The Ericson crew are a generation that understands and accepts. Where Clementine could end up with either Louis or Violet and no one will raise a brow, or even feel compelled to signal their alliance like, "Ah, yes, I am accepting of you and your choice, good for you, I am an ally, I'm making this about me."

The Final Season of TWDG is great, and it proves that the writers at Telltale at the time wanted to explore these topics earnestly. It wasn't pandering or trying to score "woke points" with the LGBTQ+ community like some bigots will insist. If it were, it would've been way more obvious about it, I think.

Casual queer stories or serious stories that tackle the hardships of being gay?

Like the bisexual I am, I like both and everything in between.

Clementine didn't need to prove her bisexuality as "enough" in TFS, but since the circumstances were different, did Javier?

I'm going to take the potentially controversial road and say no. I understand why we wish they did more, and I understand why people have frustrations over creators dropping that information without actually having to commit in their work... but I also have some appreciation for the casual reveal of Javi being bi, regardless of why it was dropped.

Javier is valid. He didn't need to "prove" anything.

In a way, I believe we do have some control over the portrayal of Javier, and that's by engaging in fandom. If you were disappointed that Javi's queerness wasn't explored in game, then find a fic that does explore that side of him, or write your own. Engage with other people and their work about it. Comment on fanart, fics, and thought pieces. Write brain dumps. Find other Javi/Tripp shippers and prove me wrong, prove that Tripp is indeed Javi's type and have fun while doing it.

Telltale gave us the crumbs, so let that inspire us to bake a cake.

I don't think this concept of "not enough" is the most productive way we could go about discussing topics like this. Not everyone has the same level or standard, and every work is a unique case. But I think it is fun and productive to share ideas of what we would've done differently so that it may inspire us.

ANF, for all of its flaws, could be a tool used to teach us where our priorities are in storytelling, and influence what we want to create ourselves.

In conclusion: Javier Garcia is enough to me.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to crawl back to my bog and begin research into the meaning and metaphors behind walkers and their existence.

But before that, I want to give a big thank you to @pi-creates for making the Javi gif used in this essay, as well as for listening to all my bullshit during the writing process.

[honeycreammilkshake]

Hey so idk if you know about this, but in Japan the politicians are going ham on trying to get BL and GL censored and illegal (???)

And with how gege likes bl, gl, and a lot of queer romances in general, do you think if he didnt play it safe, sukuita would have been canon?

i think i've read about the recent backlash on yaoi/yuri/etc in japan. and i'm really happy gege came out in support of queer series. i feel like it means a lot that they did that.

i also have a feeling that gege knew exactly what they were doing when they made sukuna and yuuji so shippable, but i'm also sure that jjk being a shounen would have prevented sukuita from being canon either way, only because then the series would technically be classified as yaoi or bl instead. and since this was marketed as shounen, it's highly unlikely that the publishers will allow it turn into bl (especially now that there's more censorship of yaoi).

however, gege still (so unsubtly) went out of their way to give us some of the most bl-looking scenes between yuuji and sukuna.

i mean just look at this!!! sukuna is like some kind of lovesick kitten, trailing after yuuji the whole time, yet insisting he's nothing more than an intimacy-hating stray who can't stand any kind of closeness or warmth. but if that's the case, why cling so much to yuuji, who (may i remind you) was the only guy to treat sukuna as human??? i don't know, kinda looks like you're a bit needy for that affection, sukuna.

then there's them constantly taunting each other like boyfriends that can't stop being competitive for one moment. (over the literal smallest of stuff, too. you know the infamous king of curses couldn't care less what kind of crayfish he got if he wasn't with yuuji... he constantly has to show us - so painfully unsubtle - just how much yuuji gets to him.)

but at least he gets to one-up yuuji during archery... though of course the brat isn't as impressed as he should be. (you can just sense the hurt pride dripping off of sukuna's words after yuuji said playing with him wasn't enticing.)

i mean, this whole chapter just made me feel like sukuna is like those tsundere guys in yaoi who can't tolerate having feelings for the cute protagonist everyone loves, so they have to be as edgy-looking and rude as possible whenever their crush comes around. (and then their crush is just 10x nicer to them because of it, which only makes them even more insecure and angry.)

sukuna, it looks like you're repressing lots...

... especially with whatever you got going on here—

(do you think gege drew this with a nosebleed?)

and just when you thought it couldn't get any gayer... these two are pretty much canonical soulmates whose fates have been chained together since before they even met.

(i think i'm noticing a trend with how gege draws them like this —back to back, two parts of a matched set, all but fused together.)

it reminds me of those yaoi manga where the protagonist becomes an unwilling (at first) bride to the monster guy everyone else hates but then slowly starts falling in love with him despite everything because oh maybe he isn't so evil after all.

and though the most recent chapter have really made it seem like yuuji has been pursuing sukuna in this way, let's not forget that sukuna was also the biggest flirt with yuuji before all the feelings hit him far too hard.

sukuna, you've known yuuji for only a few days and you're already feeling up his heart? isn't that usually not until the 3rd or 4th date?

so he does something like that but then has the nerve to act all coy with yuuji later on...

"it's annoying" he says but he's smiling. he looks almost excited. (yes, we know you like yuuji looking up at you without permission, sukuna, we get it already. you don't have to spell it out for us so obviously.)

and yuuji, honey, you know he's into that, right? stop falling for his thinly-veiled traps; you know he loves to bait you like this, you're just feeding his ego. (and also i can't forget to mention just how frustrated sukuna gets when yuuji does ignore him!)

oh and remember that fighting is how sukuita flirts, just in case you didn't pick up on that already.

they look so excited to be doing this right now — yuuji's unhinged grin, sukuna's "fight me" eyes... (mappa, it's a crime that you didn't animate this ;-;)

i'm crying, they could have done comedy together.

also... why are they grinning at each other like this?

sukuna's sitting on top of you, yuuji so why are you looking up at him with that completely unhinged look on your face? (i would say get a room but isn't that what innate domains more or less are?)

and again. if we didn't understand it perfectly well enough already, gege doesn't want us to forget that sukuna just loves it when yuuji fights back.

just look at his feral grin at the idea of yuuji trying to take him on... he loves messing with this brat.

and although sukuna and yuuji are never officially married, the fate they're forced to is almost exactly just that. in sickness and in health (mostly sickness) they are bound to each other, and only death does them part.

crazy how they got divorced TWO times...

.... yet they still can't escape whatever threads them together

even if it's not explicitly stated, it's still heavily implied that yuuji was the one to set sukuna on this different path, to remind him of whatever humanity he had left.

he was the one to connect with sukuna as the king of curses was dying.

to hold him gently and remind him that the monster he is was a matter of chance, that they could have shared that same curse if yuuji hadn't had his grandfather to provide him the fulfillment he needed while sukuna didn't have that in his own life.

to even propose that they could live together, even if he alone would accept such a thing.

it's like something straight out of a doomed romance story. i've never seen such romantic dialogue even in actual bl romance.

and if the heartbreakingly, over the top romantic dialogue wasn't enough, this is their official art, too:

like does any of this look straight to you? (also sukuna can't stop trying to get his hands all over yuuji, it's insane.)

i think it's pretty clear that sukuita is essentially canon already. and short of gege drawing them violently making out with each other (which, technically, that's what fighting is like for them) that crazy one-eyed cat made it nearly transparent that sukuita is actually a thing.

gege, you're THE shipper. to think they got away with inserting the most wonderfully messed up and fascinating yaoi story into a shounen series about a boy who literally sticks his enemy's fingers in his mouth is just crazy.

[oroontheheels]

Daddy’s gonna be real honest with you kittens.

I’m disappointed with current Venom Run. Let me be real CLEAR here. I don’t hate it. I don’t have beef with its creator. So for a long period of time I was telling everyone “it’s a mess, but it’s better that Donnie Cates”.

But I think comparing them is not correct and let me explain why.

So Donnie Cates. Our boy. Extra edgy, made some terrifically BAD retcons, hated symbrock, tried to make Eddie Brock as trad as possible (giving him human son and all). Plus he ignored the fact that Sleeper was a child of Venom and Eddie. “nOt BioLoGiCalLy” Eddie’s but he called Eddie “father” and they both deeply cared about each other. So Donnie Cates couldn’t allow this either.

But! Donnie Cates while fighting the yaoi made the story ironically even more gayer. It was a train wreck but at the end of the day at least it was fun to laugh at this “closeted shipper” as I like to call him.

And most importantly? At the end they were still “Venom family”. All 4 of them. In Donnie Cates comics.

Now Al Ewing and Ram V… It was… ok. I like Dylan, I like Venom, I like Sleeper. I didn’t like that they “killed” Eddie right at the start of the story and sent him running solo trough time traveling shenanigans. I liked him interacting with Doctor Doom. I liked Meridus being gay with Kang and with that one old man.

But what I lacked is interactions between Venom and Eddie. They almost didn’t interact.

But like, okay. Let Eddie do his thing, let Venom singlemom it out. Also did I mention Ewing and V made Dylan Venom’s son? That was NICE. That’s I liked. A LOT.

And immideatly got my hops up.

Which was a mistake.

So the problem is where Donnie was closeted shipper, I’m starting to believe that Ewing and V don’t actually see Venom and Eddie as a romantic partnership. Or even all that important partnership.

If you check Spider Man Venom War comics, Venom talks A LOT about how much “Saint Peter”(Parker) means to him. It’s very gay very romantic very deep. But at the next pages it also downgraded Eddie role in Venoms life?? Venom is like “so yeah Peter taught me to save lives so I saved Eddie from offfing himself”. And that’s almost it. No emphasis on their bond, on Eddie’s feelings, of their bond. Almost nothing, really.

And now it’s Venom War and Venom says “wow Peter and I are sooo perfect, also it feels nice punching Eddie in the face”.

So what. Venom hates Eddie now? After all those years of forgiveness?? And it wasn’t elaborated in the slightest??

I would hate it but I WOULD understand if they wanted to make Parker new host for Venom for a while. But they don’t?? Apparently Al Ewing planing to give Venom new host (all of the candidates SUCK for the role btw). And if I understood one of his interviews correctly he want to send all the characters their separate ways.

Here’s the statement

Which annoyed me. A LOT. Like i understand that cis hetero males bring all the money to Marvel. We little faggots don’t bring so much cash. So our feelings and wants are not important. But isn’t there big ass FANDOM for symbrock? People who advertise comics for free with their art and activities?? Are we not important whatsoever? And on top of that wasn’t EVERYONE celebrating when Eddie got Venom back (in 2016)?? Don’t we all love homoerotic weird ass bond these two have??

And what does it even mean “yeah it’s been a while since Eddie and Venom have been together”. It wasn’t. Donnie Cates first made Venom into amnesiac DOG, then sent him into exile and then kept him and Eddie from having meaningful interaction until the very end of his run. Everyone who loves symbrock were STARVING.

And Al Ewing and Ram V story separated Eddie into his own story line.

And now Al Ewing tilling us “yeah it’s been too long, it’s time to move on”.

It’s like giving starving person a cup of water and saying “well now you are fed, let’s go on a 20km hike”.

“My work here is done” Tuxedo Mask meme

So like… yeah.

If they’ll make Sleeper a traitor this will be so bad. This will drop from 6/10 to 0/10 immediately.

Not looking forward to Venom future.

And the WORST part? I feel like they are pulling out “this relationship is toxic so it’s cancelled” card on symbrock. They never do that on hetero ships, but they happily destroy gay ships with that argument.

It sucks.

I hope I’m wrong. But like Venom gets new host this December. There’s not much room left to give us decent amount of Symbrock IF writers even want that.

[joyce-stick]

The Beef Stroganoff Song! (arbitrary subtitle discourse edition)

So, you may have noticed here that the subtitles in this clip (from Symphogear GX episode 3) are fairly different from what you're used to seeing when people post this video, and the phrasing in the subtitles is fairly different from what the associated memes often say

For those who don't know, Symphogear got itself released on blu-ray by Discotek, and with that came with a new translation authored by Noelle (@ulsairi on twitter ) who is notable for being the only trans lesbian anime translator I know of off the top of my head.

Her translation appears, in my opinion, really rather polished and very good, and I strongly appreciate the way it's written and how much character it adds to the dialogue by giving everyone distinct voices and adapting things into more natural English. It's also a fair bit gayer. I haven't encountered many people who've seen these subs, but I think most fans of the series would consider these a net positive change. There are some people who are mad about these subtitles, and they can die mad.

Anyway, let's talk about the different phrasing of the beef stroganoff song. I'm mostly going to compare to Crunchyroll's subtitles for reference since that seems to be what most others go off of. Here's a link to that version.

So right off the bat we can see here that while CR's translation appears to be a lot more, for lack of a better word, functional, Noelle's translation tries to apply more dialectal force "it's beef stroganoff/Yes! It's THAT beef stroganoff!" And generally communicate through the tone how excited the girls are to get started. Additionally you'll see throughout that the latter is a fair bit more lyrical, there's a lot more punctuation and verbal tics and filler phrases written into the dialogue to express that they are singing, which makes sense since Japanese tends to omit a lot of the sorts of prepositions that Noelle threw in here,

Like, Yumi (yes I went and looked up her name on the wiki) just says "beef stroganoffu" because it's obvious from context that it is beef stroganoff, she doesn't need to spell it out, at least, not in Japanese

(We know like maybe ten hiragana and 1 kanji do not trust us on Japanese this is all just basic shit we learned from online guides)

So this probably leads to a rushed translator from Crunchyroll (they are notoriously crunched for time) who's just trying to Get It Done probably not really bothering to throw in extra additional connecting letters to express the tone of the character, only doing so when it's required to make basic grammatical sense in the target language. So they likely didn't think to make the subtitles have flourishes like this that aren't explicitly in the original Japanese. Noelle meanwhile had the time to consider things like this and take such liberties in order to attempt to convey the same tone that was arguably implied by the Japanese, even if not explicitly put forth

And that's about all the things I should not repeat I guess, TL;DR, these subtitles are more fun to read because the translator had more time to think about the best way to make them more fun while still being accurate to the spirit of the original dialogue, who'd have thought!

(In case you're wondering, the Commie subtitles say kind of the same thing here, and y'know, it doesn't seem like a wrong translation, but also I really dislike this subtitle styling, orange on pink with that font and that drop shadow is just kinda bad. I appreciate the effort but like. Come on. Please fansubbers, please think about if the font and colors you chose actually work with the image you're putting them on)

Moving on!

horizontal and middle rhyme with each other so you can almost actually sing this, actually let me take a moment to try it right now- never mind, I can't sing. Hahaha. I don't actually think it lines up that well with the melody But I thought it did! Didn't I? That's significant, that this actually reads like plausible lyrics to a silly song someone made up instead of a literal translation of a Japanese song

Anyway, here comes the first major difference!

So in the Crunchyroll subtitles, Yumi says "it doesn't have to be beef" which in English (in my estimation) sounds a tad scatterbrained, like, "oh yeah sure beef but whatever really it doesn't actually matter," while Noelle's subtitles rather say "Got no beef? Don't you worry!" Which implies something different.

"It is recommended to use beef, but you may substitute something else if you are sorely lacking in beef" as opposed to "Oh the beef doesn't actually matter, zoinks lol!" CR's translation is kind of a bit funnier in how it sorta comes from nowhere without this qualification, which probably lead to this phrase's memeticness, but Noelle's translation seems more reasonable to me so yeah again, tada, yay for sensicalness.

Now here's another interesting change:

Again, the flat manner in which the CR subtitles say "finish with salt" with rendezvous only being included because that's literally what they said, is sort of absent any stronger emotional implication,

Noelle's translation meanwhile going with "don't forget them, they need it" imparts personhood upon the salt and pepper. The implication being that the girls are saying, "the salt and pepper are in love, please reunite them, they must be in gay love together." Or maybe you think the salt and pepper cannot be forgotten and must be reunited because they are Only Friends.

Whether you choose to believe that this is the salt and pepper getting married, or merely subtext, or an interpretation, or salt and pepper shipping bait, this is a deeply important tonal indicator because it reminds you that these girls are ultimately playing with their food!

"And there, now you're in for a treat!" I don't think I need to explain this one.

Now, here's an interesting one!

In the Crunchyroll subtitles, it just says the memetic "boys don't know this." With no context, no elaboration, no clarity, no qualifiers. Boys don't know. Did the boys magically get their brains wiped? Are the boys biologically incapable? Who knows. Nothing is said but that.

Noelle's subtitles, on the other hand, qualify this statement by saying "Boys aren't taught to cook, so they may not know" (And note again how, it says "kno-ow" to emphasize, once more, that they're singing, and also this lines up with the long "ooooo" sound they make at the end of this lyric, so cool)

There is now context! Boys aren't taught to cook! Anime and Japan's culture in general still pigeonholes people into gender roles! And an anime translator just wrote you a hidden translation note about it! You might be a boy, you might know how to cook, but certain boys in another part of the world aren't traditionally taught cooking, so they may not know

They may not, but they could!

Trust a trans person to express gender facts with subtle nuances like this in anime translations.

And with that lovely bit of good translation and good writing and good localization of a thing to make it make sense to people

Mew!

[sarafinamk]

Fallen Angel (Reader Insert) Incorrect Quotes Part 3

The Smiling Critters Space Riders Au and the character "Z" belongs to @onyxonline

If you haven't checked out the Fallen Angel (Reader Insert) series, you can check it out here. The reader will be referred to as both (Y/n) and Archangel. Enjoy!

Warning: Cursing

----------

Bobby: Don't break someone's heart, they only have one.

Archangel: Break one of their bones instead, they have 206 of them.

----------

Crafty: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance?

Z: No.

Archangel: No.

Crafty: Didn't think so.

----------

Archangel: I've invited you here because I crave the deadliest game...

Hoppy, nodding: Knife Monopoly.

Archangel: I was actually going to play Russian Roulette, but now I'm really interested in whatever knife Monopoly is.

----------

Archangel: I found a note in one of my old logs that said Note to self: Get revenge on Captain Dogday.

Archangel: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for.

Archangel: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it.

Dogday: Hmm... I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either.

Archangel: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though.

Dogday: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it.

Archangel: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

----------

Archangel: The only thing keeping me from running away and hiding from society for the rest of my life is spite. I could disappear forever, but there are some bitches whose downfalls I have yet to witness, and I wanna be around when that happens.

----------

Poppy: Your archangel was in a fight.

Dogday: Oh no, that's terrible!

Catnap: Did they win?

----------

Dogday: Did Z just tell me he loved me for the first time?

Archangel: Yeah, he did.

Dogday: And did I just do finger guns back?

Archangel: Yeah, you did.

----------

Archangel, watching Hoppy do something stupid: Kickin, you're officially only the second highest risk here...

Kickin: Hell yeah! I'm gonna-

Archangel: Don't finish that sentence, you'll move back up.

----------

Archangel: How do ethical philosophers feel about murder?

Bubba: Well, it's frowned upon.

Archangel: Okay, but what if the reason you want to murder someone is to make your life easier?

Archangel: That's okay, right?

----------

Bobby: And now for a gay update with Captain Dogday and Z.

Dogday: Getting gayer.

Bobby: Thank you, Captain.

----------

Bubba to Archangel: We call that a traumatic experience.

Bubba, turning to Catnap: Not a "bruh moment."

Bubba, turning to Kickin: Not "sadge."

Bubba, turning to Hoppy: And DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO."

----------

Archangel: Why do you look like that, Captain?

Dogday, laying face-first on the floor: Like what?

Archangel: Like you're dead.

Dogday: It's because I'm dying. Leave me here to perish.

Catnap: Dogday accidentally called Z "babe" in front of everyone today.

Dogday: *sobs into the floor*

----------

Archangel: What's this?

Bobby, hugging Archangel: Affection!

Archangel: Disgusting.

Archangel:... Do it again.

----------

Kickin: You know, (Y/n), when you generalize, you tell general... lies.

Archangel: ...

Archangel: Are you trying to teach me moral lessons through puns?

----------

*One of the many, MANY fights before the events of Fallen Angel*

Dogday: You tricked me!

Archangel: I deceived you. 'Trick' makes it sound like we have a friendly relationship.

----------

Archangel: Here's a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Dogday: (Y/n), no.

Hoppy and Catnap: Mistlefoe.

Dogday: Please stop encouraging them.

----------

Archangel: I have a plan.

Dogday: No murder!

Archangel: ...

Dogday: ...

Archangel: I no longer have a plan.

----------

Archangel: If I die, you can have what little I own.

Bobby: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die?

Archangel: My unending existence is fueled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full.

Bobby:

Bubba, sighing: Let me call your therapist again.

----------

Archangel: I'm bored, any suggestions?

Catnap: Sleeping is nice.

Archangel: I acknowledge your suggestion, and I'm deciding to ignore it.

----------

Hoppy: You think you're smarter than everyone else.

Bubba: I don't think I'm smarter than everyone else. I know I am.

----------

Kickin: So, I MEANT to say: "Oh crap, I left my phone my car," but what I ALMOST said was "Oh no, I left my cone in my phar," and damn, wouldn't that have been embarrassing, but I caught myself, and what I ACTUALLY said was:

Kickin: "Ah, my fart cone."

Kickin: So, anyway...

----------

Archangel: I know you don't have to listen to me...

Z: Glad we agree on something.

----------

Dogday: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?

Archangel: You mean literally or figuratively?

Dogday: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

----------

Dogday: (Y/n), I am questioning your sanity...

Hoppy: I never questioned it. I knew their sanity was missing from the start.

----------

Catnap: Why is Hoppy rolling on the floor laughing? And what happened to Kickin's head?

Archangel, sighing: Kickin was about to hit his head on the door frame, so I told him to duck and he quacked at me.

Archangel: And then he hit his head.

Catnap: *wheezes*

[theroundbartable]

What are your merthur fav moments? And what are your fav personal headcanons about them? Also, do you have any fav ships (from any fandom) that the dynamics remind you of merthur?

You know it's bad when I can actually quote them without looking them up:

My absolute favorite scene is the one in "The Changeling" when Merlin holds his marriage speech. I LOVE that one. "I think you're mad. I think you're all mad, people should marry for love. Not convenience. And if Uther thinks an unhappy King makes for a better Kingdom, then he is wrong. You may be destined to rule Camelot, but you have a choice. As to how you do it!"

2. My second favorite is the one with the disir, when Arthur asks Merlin how he knew the place was sacred. It's the first time Merlin dares to open up about himself and it breaks my heart how it ends. "It's obvious." "Pretend it isn't." "Everything here ... is so full of life. Like everything is so much more than itself."

3. DIamond of the day part 2. Just - the entire episode. I love how heartbreaking it is (and I keep rewatching it so many bloody times, aaargh!). But I especially love the honesty and well... I love that Merlin got to choose when and how to tell Arthur about his magic. "I was born to be your servant, Arthur. And I am proud of that."

4. BOGMAN! The HUG! Arthur's desperation when Merlin is gone! Just - URGH! They are killing me.

5. The deleted scenes. First and foremost the Sigil scene! Everything is gayer in the deleted scenes. "Just ... take it." Personal Merthur headcanons?

I very much like the idea that Arthur believes that Merlin is in love with him. Like, from the very first time he saw Merlin steal a dress to the final episode, Arthur is convinced that that's Merlin's secret. I also like the idea that Arthur believes what they have is enough because Merlin never asked for more and Arthur is too afraid to lose Merlin to imply anything more. I also love the idea that at some point in their 10 years of friendship, Arthur CONSIDERED that Merlin may have magic. But that Merlin's constant choices against magic lead him to believe that it's just his imagination.

Arthur needs glasses. Short sighted, probably something like -3 and worse dioptrin. That's why he doesn't notice Merlin's eyes glowing golden when he's right in front of him. Arthur assumes it's candlelight or something.

Arthur keeps trying to show off in front of Merlin to earn his approval. (This one is canon, actually, what am I talking about?)

The servants in Camelot have their own Merlin fanclub and many of them are trying to set Merlin and Arthur up. Some of the knights like to help out.

Everyone thinks Merlin is the jealous one. However, turns out, whenever Merlin suspects a foreign prince/knight/bandit of doing something evil, or attacking Arthur, he is always right. Merlin is sensible and he trusts in Arthur, so he would never truly get jealous when there is no reason to be. When there IS a reason, he turns absolutely murderous though. In fact, Arthur is the jealous one. Only his jealousy is slow cooking. But it's less rational and when he is convinced Merlin has something with someone else, he goes absolutely feral. He avoids Merlin for days until he realises that Merlin doesn't care, then he makes a 180 and pretty much begs on his knees for Merlin to come back. At the same time, Arthur punishes whoever lord seems to have been too close to Merlin. Arthur was also, once, jealous of a horse.

They drink wine in the evening. And sometimes Merlin stays so late, that he has no choice but to stay over. And then, uuups - he shagged the prince. It's okay, it surely won't happen again tonight, will it? *cough cough*

Merlin's magic is very attached to Arthur... and Arthur will deny it, but he really, REALLY likes Merlin's magic. *wink wink*.

Arthur has rewritten at least 10 laws for Merlin before the magic ban is repealed.

... I can't give you all my headcanons, I need them for my fics, lmao XD

Ships from other fandoms that remind me of Merthur, you ask?

Banana fish: Ash x Eiji - Because ... the ending

Heartstopper: Nick x Charlie - When I found those books, I thought it was a BBC Merlin doujinshi. I love you ,Alice Oseman <3

Red, white and royal blue: Alex x Henry - I always felt that the book would work better as a series and I stand corrected. A gay prince dating the bi son of the female president of America? Hell yeah, consider me hooked.

Thank you for the question, anon! I hope you liked your answers!

[lurkingshan]

La Pluie Meta Round-up

Since many of us have decided to stop being normal about this show, I wanted to get a little more organized about tracking the great meta inspired by the episodes every week. Some of y’all are putting in work to write these amazing essays digging into the text and subtext of this show, and I want to make sure I’m not missing any of it, as well as have a central place to track my own. I thought this might also be a useful resource to others, especially anyone coming to the show late (please join us, this is the perfect moment to get into La Pluie). 

So without further ado, a round up of my favorite essays and posts to come out of the fandom on this excellent show. I will plan to update this each Saturday with the previous week’s meta as we go through the final four episodes. I tried my best to find everything but y'all know how faulty tumblr’s search and tag functions are, so if you think I missed something important, let me know!

First, the most crucial essay about La Pluie that everyone must read

We Must All Get Gayer and Louder About La Pluie Immediately (@bengiyo)

Second, a round up of some of the essays exploring the structure and intent of the story

Note: these may contain random spoilers for some episodes but are not specifically about any given episode

Four schools of thought on soulmates (@shortpplfedup)

Intentional subversion of the soulmate trope

Interrogating the romance genre (@chickenstrangers) 

La Pluie and the subversion of second lead syndrome

La Pluie and the subversion of the faen fatale

La Pluie: On the Lore 

Locations of La Pluie (@colourme-feral)

Name meanings in La Pluie (@recentadultburnout)

Narrative determinism versus genre determinism (@ginnymoonbeam)

On the subject of consent in recent bls (@williamrikers)

Romance tropes don’t work in real life (@heretherebedork) NEW

Romantic idealism in La Pluie (@ginnymoonbeam)

And finally, episode specific reactions and predictions

Note: These are spoilerific, starting at episode 4 aka when we all started really losing our minds over this show

Episode 4

Defying destiny (me and @bengiyo)

La Pluie Ep 4 And My Love Of Emotionally Available Characters (@bengiyo)

You (Yes, You!) Should be Watching La Pluie

Episode 5

La Pluie Ep 5 Stray Thoughts (aka birth of the Tai’s Dad is queer theory) (@bengiyo)

What we know about Patts (plus Shan and Ben’s vindication)

Working out the colors in La Pluie (@respectthepetty)

Episode 6

Hands in La Pluie Ep 6 (@wen-kexing-apologist)

La Pluie meets Nora Roberts (@syrena-del-mar)

On suspicion of Patts (@ginnymoonbeam)

Patts Was Going to Blow Tai. Tai Wanted It. Why That Matters. (@bengiyo)

You need to be watching La Pluie

Episode 7

Hands in La Pluie Ep 7 (@wen-kexing-apologist)

La Pluie: Maybe we will get a happy ending after all (@neuroticbookworm)

On the bed scene in Ep 7 (@ginnymoonbeam)

On the make out session in Ep 7 (@shouldiusemyname)

Episode 8

La Pluie and the Exploration of Romance, Competence, and Queerness (@bengiyo)

La Pluie: Do you still believe in soulmates?

La Pluie: The most important thing is that we really love each other

The Language of Love in La Pluie Ep 8 (@wen-kexing-apologist)

Third Child Syndrome: Birth Order Theory in La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)

Episode 9

La Pluie and The Kind One (@sunshinechay)

Soulmate Skepticism vs Romanticism in La Pluie (@neuroticbookworm) 

the divine in me; the divine in you (@liyazaki)

The Kindness is the Point (@bengiyo)

The ultimate message of La Pluie

To love is a choice (@heretherebedork) 

What matters is CHOICE (@shortpplfedup)

Episode 10

A Jungian Perspective on La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)

A Logical Love Doesn’t Exist (@fadelikeclouds)

break your own chains (@liyazaki)

Diving into Tai’s mind: Actions do not speak louder than words (@fadelikeclouds)

La Pluie: A Masterclass in Conflict Writing in Romance

La Pluie Breaks the Soulmate Bond

La Pluie: Not All Gays Are Great (@bengiyo)

La Pluie the Soundtrack (@shouldiusemyname)

Lomfon thoughts (@rocketturtle4)

On Tai’s isolation (@sunshinechay)

On villainising Patts (@shortpplfedup)

Pee Peerawich Can Fucking Act (@wen-kexing-apologist)

Revisiting episode 8

Similarities between Lomfon and Tai (@iguessitsjustme)

Tai and Patt’s incompatible conflict styles and Tais’ conflict avoidance (@ginnymoonbeam)

The Depths of Inner Turmoil (@syrena-del-mar)

The Soulmate Label (@indigostarfire)

Understanding the Core Four of La Pluie (@neuroticbookworm)

Episode 11

Balancing Self-Absorption and Love in La Pluie (@syrena-del-mar)

Checking in on the colors (@respectthepetty)

Connection (@wen-kexing-apologist)

Communication (@shouldiusemyname)

Even though they’ve separated it doesn’t mean they’ve failed (@chinzhilla)

It isn’t destiny- it’s freedom (@liyazaki)

La Pluie and the Aftermath

La Pluie: Thoughts on the Queer Subtext and More Patts Reflections (@bengiyo)

On Tai as a middle child of divorced parents (@slayerkitty)

On Tai’s special treatment within the family (@shortpplfedup)

Parenting in La Pluie, Episode 11 (@neuroticbookworm)

The narrative is letting Tai be unlikeable (@sunshinechay)

[dedenneblogs]

HEARTBREAK HIGH S2 ANALYSIS PART 1 (buckle up this is going to be a doozy)

so... it's out (the trailer).

my excitement cannot be expressed...

BUTT! today, i will be doing my iconic mouse analysis of this trailer (this is actually the first time im doing something like this so it's not rlly iconic BUTT it will be soon) with the most comprehensive inspection i can using under 2 minutes of video as a basis....

with that said lets

BEGIN!

the heartbreak highers are back for another "cursed" term....

so glad to see the trio back in action. like. actually so happy. MIGHT explode from excitement... as always, their outfits slaylay.

the boyfriends... friends? boys? BUGS??? found out on hh s2!

these goons are back... gayer then ever,,, seriously. when will these two have an episode long make out 'sesh? unlikely, to much dismay....spoiler alert...you'll see....

MISSY!!!!! and sasha, i guess

SPOILER ALERT AGAINNNN missy looks like she'll be more prominent in this season so...WIN!!!!

also why is she mewing who is rizzing up

and new on the the chopping block-- Rowan Callaghan!

we'll get to rowan when we get to rowan

in other (more important) news-- SHE'S HEALING! HARPER IS HEALING!!!

i... *sobs* i she's growing her hair out oh my GAW...... she's getting better...she... there's a lower chance she'll cock-block amerie (oh but she'll get cock [spoiler-- again!])

butt let's not celebrate just yet-- it's still "everyone hates amerie" up in this joint, smellas

may as well... shot them. huh. well. pop off, i suppose... (amerie asserts her right to bear arms-- truly patriotic coming from an aussie!)

...touché coming from the (still) most hated student in heartly who only adds salt to the wound by... using the pink 'ildo from s1 as a mic... chat... she's lost it.

(unrelated but in the background-- MISSY AND MALAKAI!!! they were building up a relationship between them in s1 and how she and her brother (i think? 'memory's fuzzy) helped him heal from the shit he had to go through in s1 and even better connect him with his aboriginal roots. i hope to see more of these two interact come april 11th and i binge the whole season)

ALSO also ANOTHER new character-- Zoe Clarke!

we will ALSo get to zoe when we get to zoe

anywho-- cue: AMERIE'S ONLINE HARASSMENT ARC! becuz every show needs one...unfortunately. Give a cold welcome to Bird Psycho, heartbreak highers (we will get to bird psycho when we get to bird psycho)

(who ever is doing this shit is a bitch but either way: "you dont get to be the hero" shut your goofy ass up)

oh that's gore. that's core of my comfort character.

ok so maybe this bird psycho cuck isnt fucking around because clearly he's gotten to our girl ams :(

(dw they uh...take her out for ice cream. after this. proabably.)

moving foward-- STAND BACK I SAID STAND BACK WEIRD GIRL QUINNI

oughh im gonna be sick. of course. OF COURSE SHE WOULD GO FULL SHERLOCK HOLMES TO HELP HER BESTIE.

yeah anyways with this in mind she'd totally try and crack the fnaf lore wouldn't she. wouldn't she.

she's slay she's girlboss but at the end of the day she's a weirdo

anywho nuff of my rambling there--

ominous of you to say zoe

BUT ENOUGH OF HER CA$$HHHHHHHHHHHH

ca$h omg eshay eshay eshay pspspspsp,,,

i am so happy to see him (spoiler alert for 2 secs throughout the whole trailer) but anywho remeber? remeber right he's in prison. but seems to be doing okay... (maybe for the best heartly drama is really coming to a boiling point)

<3

and-- oh. uh... chicken dumbell... okay... pop off, missy...

when i said i wanted more missy i didnt expect this

spider seems to be into tho maybe what ??1/1/111.1/?!??!/1/1/1

missy x spider was NOT on my bingo card

WHEN MISSY SAID SHE WAS STARTING TO LIKE WHITE BOYS I DIDNT THINK SHE MEANT THIS.

BUUTTTttttt-- i. am. down. for. it... somehow. frankly, spider needs someone to put him in his place and low and behold, missy seems to be the student to do so..........

hey. if they're both happy with their...chicken dumbells, i am too.

amerie dont be alarmed but there's a white boy to your right

in other news this love triangle scares the diarrhea out of me

look at them. they're the perfect couple (malakai x amerie 4life) and rowan is--

well he's a nice boy but cmon

LOOK AGAIN IM DOWN FOR THEM TO BE HAPPY BUTT when it comes in between THE BEST SHIP IN THE SHOW (looks at amerie x spider shippers with affectionate disdain) i draw the line.

but who knows? rowan seems nice enough, and if he's able to make amerie happy, let them have each other! <3

also knowing malakai's track record i wouldn't put it past him to get freaky with rowan too (threesome attempt 2??? actually no wait thats a horrible idea NEVERMIND [gets s1 ep4 flashbacks])

also also "classic love triangle" scene gives major "erm...well this is akward!" vibes from ams (we stan cringey amerie in this household tho)

and well. shart. max limit of 30 photos. oh well-- ill make a second part! tune in for the update heartbreak highers :3

[kongthapatom]

Riddle me this: When have queer stories managed to become popular with little kids in Asia before MSP did?

This year I watched MSP cast promote the drama in schools and so many students ranging from small kids to high schoolers doing MSP dance challenges even months after MSP ended. It makes me ecstatic when I see them watching this drama, even becoming a fan! TinnGun made it seem so effortless to touch the hearts of Asian kids and teens in a way no queer drama has been able to do before. 

MSP really changed my perception of what it will take for queer media to overthrow the hetero agenda in Asia someday. It made me realize we need more feel-good, family-friendly and goofy stories that appeal to everyone and make them laugh instead of convoluted or grandiose stories that lose the plot or those that specifically amplify queer struggles and minimise the joy of love.

That in the end, when real change starts in society, no matter how big or small and culminates with homophobia finally packing its bags & Asian families being won over - it won't be because of dramatic and "realistic" queer stories rife with suffering, grief or heartbreak that got voted best by the critics. It will be because of a simple and sweet love story like MSP, where one boy had a crush on another boy and did everything it takes to help him reach his dreams and found his own happiness in the process, a story that is vibrating with so much of queer positivity, joy and heart that it's impossible for anyone who watches it to not became its fan.

It makes my heart burst with joy that queer kids today are growing up with much better examples of queer love in front of them than our previous generations ever did. Imagine the impact this will have, the difference it will make in young queer Asian lives.

Gun told Tinn that the love songs we listen to in high school are the best love songs ever because they're the original soundtracks of our first love - To think there is a generation of kids right now who are listening to MSP soundtrack and falling in love to the same songs Tinn and Gun sang to each other and will remember MSP as their life's greatest love songs someday in the future - it boggles my mind and perhaps we won't grasp the full extent of what MSP did for its queer audience until many years have passed.

Nonetheless, I'll never stop singing MSP's praises because all they had was a newbie director, rookie actors & a banger soundtrack to do the impossible and make queer characters go mainstream in Asian schools and resonate with kids. We'll soon find out if we'll see TinnGun in college next year being sickeningly in love and serenading each other with an even gayer cuter cheesier soundtrack! (I hope so) Even if we don't, I'm excited for the impact MSP and GemFourth will have on queer romance genre down the line.

[bengiyo]

We Must All Get Louder and Gayer About La Pluie Immediately

I understand that this show only airs on iQIYI and that most of us canceled that after KinnPorsche and/or Love in the Air, but I’m gonna need y’all to re-up those subscriptions and get on this train right now. This and Step By Step have been some of the most intriguing romance explorations we’ve had in the realm of Thai BL in a long time, and you are missing out on this incredibly breakdown of the soulmate and fast romance tropes that I’ve ever experienced.

I’ve seen some consternation about whether this show is honoring or defying conventions within romance and BL, and I don’t think that’s the most enjoyable way to engage with a piece of media in a mature genre. I think it’s more useful to ask questions like:

How is this show using those conventions?

What do these conventions fit?

What new things have we learned about ourselves or the genre as a result?

We’ve been unpacking the soulmate idea from the very beginning (@lurkingshan). The show upended our expectations about that from the opening scenes by showing us a romantic man who doubts in his own romantic destiny because his parents divorced. The show has then gone on to state quite plainly that it believes that the hearing loss connection is entirely coincidental, and that what people do in their relationships with other people is what matters the most.

We are sitting in the audience, and so we know that this is a romance. We fully understand that Tai and Patts will more than likely be together at the end of this story. What that knowledge and expectation allows the show to poke at the development of relationships in dramas. The characters are in a slow burn romance, but everyone in their lives doesn’t think they should be! That’s been incredibly fascinating because we so often see BL characters rushed into a relationship with each other that we are always surprised when they aren’t (Bad Buddy, My School President, Bed Friend). It’s been incredibly enjoyable for me to see a romance refuse to rush their characters into commitment with each other.

My good friend @lurkingshan wrote about this subversion of tropes and expectations this morning as they pertain to Lomfon. She makes the point that we expected Lomfon to be a bigger factor going into episode 7 than he was, and that’s also I think part of the point. He’s not a threat to the core romance, but he does have a role to play in this story. For me, I think he’s here to reinforce that skepticism and doubt are critical to making any sort of relationship or belief system function. Your ability to handle new challenges and things that confuse you are critical to being able to maintain a commitment. It doesn’t work if it’s forced.

As for misunderstandings, this show also continues to be intentional about this. As far back as episode 4, Dream chided Patts for not making things clear with Nara. Patts listened but hoped that his non-answer would be enough for Nara. Likewise, Bow has warned Tai twice about Lomfon’s clear desire for him, and how by not making things clear Tai may also face difficulties.

This comes to a head this week with Nara. I agree with @ginnymoonbeam that Nara’s return lets the narrative blow up Tai’s uncertainties he’s left bubbling since the beginning. I personally love Nara’s reintroduction here because Tai is romantic and because he genuinely seemed to like Nara. He liked that she still knew how to take care of her ex. He liked the determination she showed to travel all the way to Chiang Mai to pursue him. He was rooting for her! Even if he misunderstands the kiss, it’s not really about the kiss. It’s about the fact that someone he admires cares for Patts, and he likely worries that he’s the reason they didn’t work out. He’s also still questioning if the mutual attraction between himself and Patts can be trusted.

Moving on to the intimacy, I wrote last week about the way this show has made it clear that these are two men interested in each other. Following up on that this week, we entered an incredible liminal space in their relationship. Patts signaled earlier in the episode when they first got to their room that he is hoping to pick up where they left off with their last intimate moment. Both went into this bed fully aware of the sexual tension between them.

Tai is the one who opens the door this time by first offering the massage and then initiating the kiss. Things heat up between them, with Tai again on top to remain in control of the situation, something @shouldiusemyname points out here. Tai once again asks Patts to stop when he moves to escalate the encounter, but Tai shows Patts that he is interested in him. He offers to help him out by performing the act that Patts was most certainly going to do last week. This is incredibly fascinating for me, because I have always asserted that bottoms are the ones in most control of an encounter. I do not read Tai choosing to take care of Patts as him giving up control in any way. In fact, it’s a way for him to further maintain it. He reassures Patts that he is happy to be here and lets them release the tension of the moment.

Also, I just absolutely lose it over the lip flick.

gif by @pharawee​

Once again, I cannot overstate how radical it is for me to see a show saying that the one performing the act is the one in control of the encounter, and has the character who’s feeling unsure use that as a way to explore their own feelings. Tai needed to know that he likes making Patts happy. Please list the other BLs that have done this with sex in the notes. It’s not very often we get this!

Also, look at this man. This is not the face of a man who is being coerced. This is the afterglow of two people navigating their intimate relationship (@ginnymoonbeam).

He’s literally rubbing his hand because as they spoon because he’s so relieved.

I also just absolutely love Patts. I love that he keeps leaving notes for Saengtai to make sure he knows where they are.

Look at him walking around the next morning. He seems pleased...like a man can seem pleased.

We just never get this kind of stuff in genre. This is a classic romance of the Nora Roberts variety that’s allowing us to show two men navigating their romance and intimacy on their terms while also showing that even fated mates must be good partners to each other. This is a story that loves romance and loves the conventions of the drama. It is approaching each thread with clear-eyed conviction, and we as queer viewers deserve this.

So, I’m going to need you all to get louder, weirder, and gayer about this show. We gotta get more people on this one. We can’t let this show be forgotten because it’s not on YouTube.

Once again, thank you for coming to my post.

tagging @wen-kexing-apologist​ and @kyr-kun-chan​ for all the conversation we’ve had about this show.