#Honestly moving out has been the weirdest experience which I would love to talk about if anyone has questions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

machinegunbun · 4 years

Note

Did we ever get the freaky colson fic? Asking for a friend

Yenno what? I’ve been practically starving yall so i think you earned it. Ask (for a friend) and you shall receive. Buckle up kiddos, this ones a doozy.

TW?: Like? everything. everything is a problem here lmao. Just weird. H/A stands for haunted attraction, i had one in mind but it felt disrespectful to mention.

I present to you... The Freaky Fic ™

~*~*~

You knew this interviewer had a history of asking personal questions, which meant when you came on you were completely expecting to be asked something or other in regards to you and Colsons sex life, but asking about the freakiest sex you’ve ever had still felt a little forward. You weren’t thirty minutes into what would be an hour-and-forty-three-minute podcast and he was already pulling out what you originally thought to the big guns. Your eyes met Colsons as you silently tried to decide whether or not you should avoid the question.

“I already know what it would be, I'm just not sure we should say.”

“It’s that bad?” The interviewer asks

“Well, it’s more that everyone is gonna say its white people shit. Cause it is.” You took a moment to think about the statement “It wasn’t incest though! Obviously. Just a little weird.”

“What was it?” Colson asked, mind reeling through your personal kama sutra for anything that would stand out as the freakiest. Colson and you were definitely not vanilla, but that was the problem, wasn’t it? When you’ve done so much weird stuff, it’s hard to rank which would be the weirdest.

“The [H/a].” You say, watching as a flash of recognition falls over his face

“Seriously? That’s the worst thing you could think of? Cause I can think of, like, five worse than that, just off the top of my head.”

“I mean, it’s definitely not the freakiest, but it’s a good story without it being super embarrassing or personal.” Colson nods in agreement, mumbling a small “Right”

“Yeah, go ahead. You can tell it.” He says, turning to face you in his spinny chair.

“Okay, so, I’m very superstitious and, like, paranoid right? I mean, I literally will not sleep in a room that has a mirror facing me. It doesn’t even have to be facing me, it could be facing the wall opposite me, but it has to be covered. I don’t even really trust it when it’s covered, honestly, I prefer it to be face down to the floor. Because mirrors are supposed to be portals to the after life, or whatever, and I remember hearing that if one is facing you while you sleep it’s easier for ghosts to manipulate you. It’s not that I necessarily believe that, or that I think if I slept with a mirror facing me that I’d die or something, but that I respect it. However, I think when places are advertised as haunted they usually aren’t. I mean you see these youtubers go to these places and film all these videos and it’s just- That’s not how hauntings usually are. Ghosts have an ability, to an extent, to manipulate your emotion. Have you ever heard of someone suddenly being overwhelmed by an emotion because they believe a loved one is near? It’s more like that, it’s very spiritual. Being haunted, coming from someone who ghosts seem to love, is nine times out of ten nothing like what Hollywood portrays it to be. It’s not to say that I think every one of these youtubers is lying, I think some of them definitely are, or that they were scared and when you’re scared it’s easy to blow little noises out of the water, but mostly I think it has to do with the places themself.”

Your story was cut off by the interviewer asking a question,

“Hold on, you aren’t about to make a joke about freaky also meaning spooky, right?” The interviewer asks

“I mean, you could totally make that joke, but it’s definitely a little kinky. I’m just giving some background.”

“Okay, continue.”

“Where was I? Oh, yes. I think when you go somewhere that is advertised as haunted they are selling you an experience. If you went to the [H/a] and nothing happened, some people would be disappointed by that and would want their money back, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“I think some of these places have audio recordings and mechanised doors, things that they can use to manipulate every room and give you a good scare. This is all theory, by the way, so don’t sue us.”

“You really think it's more plausible that they have a whole control room to scare people and that none of the workers have ever squealed than believe that these places are just… haunted?” The interviewer asked

“I don’t know. Maybe, if they only allowed people with a certain seniority and made them sign an NDA? And if the ones who control it get to give their coworkers a little scare so they come online and say they’ve had their own experiences? Yeah, I think it makes sense, and it's making them money, so why would they stop?”

“Okay, I guess.” He nodded along, entertaining the idea

“But, I also believe that if you talk to ghosts or call on them they will show up, so it’s kinda” you made a scale motion with your hands before continuing.

“Anyway, I went on board with this in mind. We were in our room, cuddled up on the bed and-” you took a moment to recall that night “I don’t remember if we were waiting for something to happen, or if it already had and we were waiting for something else. Anyway, we must’ve gotten bored, because we started making out.”

The crappy old hotel sheets shifted under you as your lips met Colsons, his warm hand reaching over to rest on your lower back. The kiss quickly became heated, your mouths smashing into one another, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip while his hand pulled you closer, your own reaching down to rub his growing bulge.

A short, fast knock came from the wall, breaking both the kiss and the silence.

“Oh, do you like that?” You ask, continuing to massage him through his loose sweatpants. Colson originally thought you had been referring to him, but quickly caught onto the fact that you were addressing the ‘ghost’.

“Hm, what about this?” You continued, kissing your way down his body, pulling his pants down when you got to them and sliding his tip between your lips. A barely audible creak erupted from the room beside you, the bathroom sink had turned on, a small stream of water pouring aimlessly down into the sink.

“Does that make you wet?” You ask, sucking one of his balls into your mouth as you stroke him. Colson found the whole act to be a bit odd, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself, so he let you continue. As fucked up as it was, the idea of a third party watching as the two of you were doing your thing was really getting you going. It wouldn’t have been a big deal to some, other than the fact that the supposed third party was a ghost.

“Do you like watching us fuck?” You slid your mouth down the length of his prick, hollowing out your cheeks before coming back up to continue “Tell me what you want me to do to him next.” You offer up, glancing up at Colson who looked equal parts freaked out and turned on.

“You’re crazy. God that’s hot.” He said, throwing his head back while you let out a small laugh. A book slides from the coffee table across the room, falling to the floor and landing on its spine, flipping open to a random page. You weren’t entirely sure what that implied, but the only thing that came to mind was him fucking you on that table. You took a moment to ponder it before deciding if you tried it would break and that you didn’t wanna bother paying the place for a new one.

You began kissing your way back up his body instead, admiring his tattoos as you go. Your lips landed back on his, reaching down to slide the tip of his prick through your folds, gathering your arousal. Stopping the kiss for a moment, you opened your mouth to take a breath. Colson took this opportunity to spit in your mouth, connecting your lips again soon after.

“Think the ghost liked that?” He said, reaching down to grab his hard dick from your hand, teasing your hole. You shrugged, leaning back into the kiss, moving your hips along with his movements.

After a minute or two of teasing, you swore you felt the bed begin to shake. It started off slow and small, almost as if Colson was shaking under you and it was transferring to the bed, before slowly building to a much more noticeable rumble.

“Oh, I think it wants us to shake the bed.” You say, a smirk playing on your lips, a gasp falling past them as you felt colson slip inside you. You happily obliged, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. You didn’t realise how badly you needed this, you couldn’t help the moans slipping past your lips as you fucked each other as hard as you could manage, trying your best to make sure the bed shook. You were looking down at Colson when suddenly his face disappeared, replaced by impenetrable darkness.

“What the fuck.” The interviewer mentioned, more amused than judgemental “I can't believe you’re telling me this. I can’t believe this isn’t the freakiest shit you’ve ever done.”

“Well, the ghost thing was kind of a joke. I mean, it happened, but it was more about the fact that someone was obviously watching us, or the concept of that.”

“Right, right. You guys like an audience, I see.”

“While it was dark though, I swear I felt a hand slide up the side of my thigh, I know it wasn’t Colsons cause I could-” You cut yourself off “I’m not gonna say how, but I felt both of his hands on me.”

“Oh shit, forreal? You never told me that part.” Colson said, you gave a small nod in his direction before continuing.

“But then the lights came back on.”

The lights had only been off for about a minute, small sounds of things moving barely audible over the sounds you two had been making, Colson flipping you over in the dark, pounding away at your hips. When they flicked back on, the room was messy, your eyes scanned the room, falling on the complimentary ouija that sat on the table first. It had fallen out of its box, the lid on the floor next to it. Next, you realized the closet had slid open, it had one of those bendy doors that made it so when you slid it open it bent out towards you, they were called bifold closet doors, if you remembered correctly.

It was slid halfway open to reveal the empty closet behind it, the only thing adorning the shelf being a couple lone close hangers. As you watched, one looked as if it were smacked off and fell to the floor.

“It wasn’t hot anymore at that point. I didn’t see anything, I think it was my paranoia-- remember when you were a little kid laying in bed and you were like, there is a person crouching beside my bed right now and if I look over the edge at them they will have no more incentive not to kill me?” A silent understanding “It was like that, I don't know how but I know what they look like and I was fully convinced that person was crouching next to us on the bed and if I looked over there I would see him. Because the bed was on the wall, and it’s a big bed, a queen I believe, and colson and I are laying with our head at the foot of it, there was plenty of room to the side of us cause we weren’t exactly in the middle. “Wait, you said that you believed the hauntings were mechanical, so do you think this was a ghost, or a worker?”

“I think it may have been the lady at the front desk, because when we came out she asked us if we were having a good day. I don't know. I don’t think I’ve ever been turned off so fast, I mean at first the idea of a ghost or a worker watching us have sex was hot, but the thought of that… thing being there with us-- That wasn’t hot. We just, kinda, silently put our clothes on and walked out to the lobby. We went back later and got our stuff and checked out early. All I know is it was a dumb fucking idea.”

The day after the interview was released twitter was filled with variations of “If Mgk and his girlfriend wanted an audience they could’ve just asked me.”

Guess you should’ve expected that one.

#machinegunkelly #machinegunkelly smut #machinegunkelly fic #mgk #mgk smut #mgk fic #machinegunkelly fanfic #machinegunkelly fanfiction #mgk fanfic #mgk fanfiction #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson baker fic #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker fanfic #colson baker x reader #mgk x reader #machinegunkelly x reader

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

It’s Just Sex

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: So I was hoping for maybe a bi reader and her and Fred have kind of like a sugar daddy/dom kind of relationship but not very intense more of a soft caring dom with real feelings there as well. anyway, before the reader met Fred she was in a kind of friends with benefits relationship with a woman and that relationship was also very dom/sub centred and maybe her old lover comes to Toronto for maybe a business trip or something (I’m imagining powerful businesswoman vibes here) and asks the reader to meet her for drinks and when she tells Fred and explains their relationship to him somehow Fred ends up joining them for drinks and maybe her ex lover suggests something and it goes from there 👀

Warning: smut as requested, drug use, maybe some fluff, maybe some angst or jealousy?

Author’s Note: Gonna be honest, my experience is limited in, like, all aspects so I don’t know how this will turn out or if it will really be what you’re looking for, anon, but I’m taking my best shot. I hope you still enjoy it! I also want to apologize if I took any missteps in the way I talked about bisexuality — my intention is never to offend and this was my first time writing a bi reader so please feel free to let me know if/where I went wrong. Stay Golden loves <3!

masterlist

the other masterlist

You grew up in Antigonish, a small town in Nova Scotia, so you were used to more of a slow paced life. You got good grades, never broke the law and the only form of rebelling you did came in the form of stealing a five cent candy from the convenience store on the corner of Main Street. So when you moved to Boston for University, you expected to be overwhelmed but you didn’t expect to meet anyone -- but then she showed up

“Hi there” a voice said confidently behind you, leading you to turn around slowly to see who she was talking to

“Me?” you asked, surprised when she nodded with a smile, “oh, hi”

“I saw you order a Manhattan and I thought to myself, ‘now that’s my type of girl’” she joked

“Honestly, I hate it,” you admitted, playing with the base of the glass, “I thought I was ordering a Cosmopolitan but Manhattan sounded more familiar so I ordered that but now...”

“You’re cute,” the woman said, taking the empty seat next to you, “I love Manhattan’s so I’ll happily take yours but let me get you your Cosmo”

“You don’t have to...” you blushed

“I know” she replied confidently, earning a shy smile from you

“I’m (Y/N) by the way”

“Adrianne,” she smiled, “but all my friends call me Roxy”

“Why Roxy?” you chuckled and she gave some wrap around answer about it being an inside joke from middle school. You were mesmerized with her the entire night. The way she spoke. The way she took small sips from her drink and licked her lips. The way her dark hair would brush across her exposed skin of her back as her smile hypnotized you. The way her hand grazed your knee when she made a joke or the sound of her laugh when you didn’t know she was flirting with you. She gave you her number at the end of the night and you spent the next week trying to think of exactly what to say, “she’s way too good for me” you sighed, pushing your phone across the counter

“Why?” Your best friend, Nicole, asked. You two went to high school together so she had a habit of hyping you up when she thought you needed it most

“If you had seen her, you would agree with me, Nic. She just has this way about her,” you gushed, “she’s just cool and charming and way too good for me”

“You are amazing. Who cares if this girl is ‘cool,’ we’re not in high school anymore so you just need someone who is going to see how amazing you are”

“Nic, I don’t even know if she wants to start something...”

“You said she gave you her number right?”

“Yeah...”

“So she obviously wants something”

“Yeah but is all she wants sex? Because I don’t know if I’m the hook up type”

“Text her. Call her. Find out what she’s looking for” she smirked, filling up a glass of water from the faucet to drown out any argument you tried to make. You scoffed at her ability to brush you off before you grabbed your phone and sent Adrianne a text

“Wanna go to dinner?” you asked simply

“I could eat” she replied. Later that night, you found yourself standing outside the restaurant, taking a deep breath before stepping inside, knowing she was waiting for you. It was an effortless night; you laughed, you told her some of your weirdest childhood stories, she told you about her family and what she was doing in Boston. The night was rounded out by following her back to her apartment and letting your bodies take over. You thought that the date went well but you didn’t see her for a few months when she randomly texted you, an occurrence that would happen every two weeks or so from that point on, and it became very clear to you that she was looking for a ‘friend with benefits.’ You weren’t a huge fan of it but you couldn’t get Adrianne out of your head so you went along with it but she didn’t seem to take it well when you said you had gotten a job in Toronto

“We’ve been doing this for years, Roxy,” you whined, finally able to call her by her nickname, “I’ve graduated, we’ve graduated. I have a chance to start my life with a really successful company and I don’t know why you wouldn’t want me to take it. It’s not like you need me to stick around for anything. You're the one who didn’t want to have any commitments so this shouldn’t cause any problems for you”

“I just don’t get why you wanna go back to Canada” she said with a tinge of disgust on her words and you felt a rush of rage roll through you

“Because it’s home” you said plainly, scoffing before turning on your heels

“(Y/N)” she sighed

“Adrianne,” you replied softly, “I really hope we can see each other again someday. You will always be such an important part of my life but I need to take this step”

“I understand,” she smiled, “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean anything about--”

“I know,” you interrupted with a smile, “I’ll see you.. when I see you.” As soon as you landed in Toronto, a giant grin spread across your face because it finally felt like home. You walked into e=mc2 on your first day anxious to get started and they did not waste any time putting you to work

“Alright, (Y/N), so we’ve got a wedding on Friday, a conference on Wednesday, a sweet sixteen next month that we have to settle all the details for next week, a gala in about 3 months -- give or take -- that is going to take a lot of work and a lot of time,” your boss explained, rambling slightly as the two of you rushed around the office, “and then there’s all the smaller events that we do. You’ll be very busy. Are you okay with all of this?”

“Of course!” you exclaimed, struggling to keep up with her footsteps

“We know it can be a bit jarring at first, because it all happens so quickly, which is why we put a clause in your contract that states you have a 30 day trial period. Like a subscription to Netflix,” she laughed, “to see if you can handle it or if you want to drop it”

“Smart,” you smirked, taking a breath when your boss finally stopped in the break room and got himself a glass of water, “but I don’t think I’ll need it. I love the fast paced environment”

“Good,” she smiled in return, “I think you’ll fit in really well here.”

Freddie’s P.O.V

You had noticed her once before. She was running through the building, clearly stressed about something, when you were walking back to your apartment with Auston. You saw her again a few weeks later, having lunch in the café across the street; you found yourself waiting for the next time you’d see her would be.

“Shit shit shit” you heard someone whisper from down the hall, finding her rushing down the corridor with an arm full of papers. You tried to move out of her way, not wanting to cause her undue stress when her shoulder connected with your arm sharply

“Oomph” the two of you said in tandem as her papers went flying

“Ow,” she groaned as she rubbed her shoulder, her eyes still not looking up at yours while she tried to collect everything that you’d made her drop, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m just in a bit of a rush...”

“That’s alright” you said softly and she finally looked up at you

“I... I really am sorry. I’ve been told I need to be more careful” she smiled

“Really, it’s fine. No harm done,” you replied, “do you have time for a drink?”

“Uhm,” she hesitated, fixing the bag on her shoulder, “I can’t... I have a lot of work to do. I’m sorry”

“How about tomorrow?” you called when she hastened down the hall and she looked back at you, not saying anything, “I’m Freddie by the way!” she stopped where she stood before turning around and letting a smile grow on her face

“(Y/N)!” she returned. The two of you eventually met up for lunch and, after that, couldn’t stop talking to each other; you couldn’t stop thinking about her. “I want to be very clear...” she started one day, after months of day dates, midnight snacks and weekly hookups. You furrowed your brow at her words, “I don’t want to just mess around. I did that once, with my ex, and it wasn’t right for me. If you don’t want a relationship, that’s fine, but tell me now because I don’t wanna waste my time.” Her bluntness was a breath of fresh air and you couldn’t help but be more attracted to with every word she spoke

“I wouldn’t want to waste your time...” you smirked, wanting to keep her on her toes just a little longer. “I don’t want to mess around either. I’ve done that before and I don’t want to do it anymore either. I want to be with you” she jumped into your arms and crashed her lips onto yours. From then on, the two of you were almost inseparable, learning new things at every turn, “I’ve never heard of Antigonish” you said when she told you about her hometown

“It’s small but it’s cute. It’s a good place to raise a family...”

“What about that?” you asked, “a family? You want one?”

“Are you asking if I want kids?” she teased

“Maybe”

“Do you want kids?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, “I want a big family. Lots of kids”

“How many is lots?” she asked seriously

“As many as you’ll give me”

“Aww aren’t you cute”

“I know” you joked and she pushed your shoulder playfully. After nearly two years, she had never really opened up her exes, no matter how many times you asked, and it was starting to really get on your nerves

“Why are you getting so mad?” she yelled

“Why won’t you be honest with me?”

“I really don’t have any ‘exes’ so there’s nothing to talk about”

“You said that your ex just wanted to mess around, so obviously you had at least one ex” you argued

“I.. I called her my ex because it was easier to explain than we were ‘friends with benefits’ because it was more than that to me but it wasn’t to her but I hate the term ‘complicated’ even if it’s what it was,” she countered, still trying to argue her point but you were caught up on the fact that her ex was a girl that you couldn’t focus. “Freddie?”

“Sorry,” you shook your head, “you said her. Your ex is a girl?”

“Yeah...” was all she said, earning a scoff from you

“That’s it?”

“What’s the problem?”

“Was it like an experiment?”

“An exper-- no it wasn’t an experiment,” she scoffed, “I’m bisexual”

“And you never thought to tell me?!”

“It’s not a big deal so I.. didn’t think to mention it”

“It is a big deal!” you shouted

“Why? Why is it a big deal?”

“You dated a woman!”

“And I’ve dated men... plus, I told you, I didn’t date her. We just hooked up”

“Look, I don’t care the bisexual thing. I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me about it?” you asked, sitting down on the couch

“I don’t know... I guess I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Not everyone accepts it, my grandparents sure as hell didn’t” she sighed

“I love you,” you said, “I’m not your grandparents. You love who you love and that shouldn’t be helped. I’m just happy that I’m the one you love this time”

“I do love you,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around your neck, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but thank you for not... overreacting.”

“Let’s just make this the last secret for a while okay?” you chuckled

“I can make that work.”

“I’m in town” a number you didn’t recognize texted you and you racked your brain about who it could be

“Sorry... who is this?”

“Ha ha very funny”

“Nicole?” you sent, thinking that your best friend changed her number

“No?”

“Charlie?”

“Seriously (Y/N)?”

“I’m sorry. I really don’t know who this is. I don’t recognize this number...”

“It’s Roxy” your cursor blinked in the empty space of your text box while you tried to think of something to say. It had been almost five years since you last saw her but seeing her name on the screen still made your heart race. Without even trying, she’d begun messing with your head all over again

“Oh. Hi”

“Oh. Hi?” she repeated your message before quickly sending another, “really that’s all I get?”

“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you...”

“We said we’d keep in touch. That didn’t happen, clearly”

“You’re a busy woman. Last I heard, you were well on your way to being a CEO at some Fortune 500 company”

“Ah yes. That planned changed”

“It did?” you replied quickly, intrigued about what she could be in town for

“It did. It was fun while it lasted but I’m still busy, I like it that way”

“What are you up to then?”

“Well... I think we should meet up and talk about it. I would love to see you” You could picture her lips speaking those words. The way her tongue lingered on the back of her teeth as if she didn’t want the ‘L’ to escape her mouth before her breath could reach it. The way her grin would shape the sound of ‘you’ to make it sound more like an invitation than a word. You saw it all in your head and your fingers responded before you could stop them

“Sure! What about Friday?”

“Sounds good. I heard of a bar called The Cloak Bar that has a great vibe. I’m excited to try it”

“Yeah I’ve heard of it. Do you mind if I bring someone along?” you asked, biting the inside of your cheek nervously

“Not at all”

“Great! See you Friday!”

“(Y/N)?” Freddie said when he saw you staring you at your phone screen in silence, “babe?”

“Huh?” you said, still frazzled by the conversation you’d just had

“Everything okay? You look a little distracted...”

“Wanna go to a bar on Friday?” you blurted out

“Sure..” he scoffed

“Good. Great. Good,” you stammered, “that’s good. You’ll get to meet an old friend of mine.. from Boston...”

“An old friend?” he asked before you finally met his gaze, “an old friend.. your ex...”

“She’s in town and wants to... catch up”

“I’m sure she does” he teased, sitting down beside you

“Don’t be like that. She texted me... I could’ve not invited you, she knows you’re coming”

“She knows your boyfriend is coming?”

“She knows you’re coming...”

“(Y/N)...” he scoffed with a smile, dropping his head, “you didn’t say ‘my boyfriend is coming’ did you?” your silence said everything it needed to and Freddie fell back into the couch

“I’m sorry!” you tried, embarrassed about what happened, “everything happened so fast! I didn’t know what to say. I don’t know why I didn’t say something about you, why I didn’t mention your name, I’m so sorry! But I do want you there!”

“Relax,” he smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your cheek, “It’s fine. I get it and you know what? I’m excited to meet this ‘Roxy’“

“Good. You’ll like her!” you exclaimed, “but don’t call her Roxy... it’s an inside thing. I just wouldn’t want her to like hate you before getting to know you”

“Okay,” he chuckled, “I promise, I’ll behave.” When Friday came along, you had changed your outfit countless times and you couldn’t calm your breathing; Freddie was finally able to calm you down enough that you could pick an outfit but your nerves were still getting the best of you. You showed up early and found a booth near the back and waited for Adrianne to walk through the door, watching your boyfriend’s reaction whenever you took your eyes off the entrance. “Babe... stop. You’re gonna be fine,” you laughed as he pressed a kiss to your lips, “I’m here for you.”

“I’m just so nervous... I know I shouldn’t be but I am” you said before taking a deep breath and training your eyes back on the door

“Is that her?” Freddie asked, nodding to the crowd of people who just walked in and you searched to see if she was among them. When you finally saw her, your first thought was she hasn’t changed a bit

“Yeah... that’s her” you sighed, watching as her smile went wide when she found you. She was wearing, what looked like, a pin striped suit -- tapered legs with the highest stilettos you’d ever seen topped with a one button blazer, low enough that both you and Freddie could tell she was only wearing a bra underneath

“Holy shit” you heard him gasp and you hit his chest before Adrianne got to the table

“(Y/N),” she said in a sultry voice, the same one she’d used that night you first met, “it’s so good to see you again. You look great”

“Me?” you blushed, “look at you! You look.. wow, just... wow”

“Thank you” she smiled, her eyes moving to Freddie slowly

“Sorry, this is my boyfriend. This is Freddie, Freddie this is Adrianne”

“Nice to meet you” Freddie greeted politely, outstretching his hand to shake hers but Adrianne only smirked in return before taking a seat beside you, tucking herself quite close to you

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Freddie...”

“So.. tell me. What’s new? What brings you to the City?” you asked, moving closer to Freddie and his arm draped over your shoulder

“I’m working on something. A merger, more or less, with the company I’m working for in Boston and one based out of Toronto. It appears the Canadians are not too keen to share with us Bostonian's” she laughed and you felt her hand land on your knee

“Let’s get some drinks!” you said, clearing your throat, “they have great cocktails here!”

“Don’t mind if I do” she said in the same sultry tone as before, peering over at Freddie, her hand still stationed on your knee and you could tell she was planning something; what that something was, remained to be seen.

Adrianne’s P.O.V

You weren’t expecting her to be in a relationship. Not that she wasn’t the type, just that she didn’t give you the impress she was dating but you could see why she was with him. He was big and he looked strong, she probably loved his hands on her body, his fingers inside her; god you missed having your fingers inside her. The way that she sunk into him told you that she felt safe with him and the way that he looked at her told you that he loved her and would likely do anything for her. You bit your lip as you watched the two of them interact, asking questions when you felt like it, keeping that ere of mystery about yourself that you’d always liked to. After two rounds of specialty cocktails and an extra old fashioned you ordered for (Y/N), the group was starting to loosen up a little

“Babe, I need to get out,” she whispered to Freddie, leaning against his chest as she spoke, “can you move a little?”

“Where’re you going?” he smirked

“I have to pee” she giggled

“Why don’t you just crawl over him?” you teased, half-expecting her to challenge you but wanting to see what she’d choose, when she squinted her eyes in mild annoyance before straddling her boyfriend, pecking his lips gently and shifting her body to the open space beside him.

“You really bring out a different side of her, don’t you?” he smirked

“I guess I just know a different version of her” you replied

“So.. what kind of person handles mergers? What’s your job title?” he pried

“Technically, I’m an Investment Advisor. That’s what it says on my business card but if you ask my bosses they’ll tell you I’m the badass who manages their portfolios so they don’t get fired or arrested for fraud” you replied proudly

“Shit,” he scoffed, “sounds important”

“What do you do?”

“Nothing nearly as important,” he laughed, “I’m a goaltender. In the NHL”

“For Toronto?” you asked, genuinely intrigued and he nodded, “well damn. That’s pretty cool. I’m starting to get a better idea why (Y/N) likes you”

“I mean.. she’s not with me because of my job” he clarified but you could tell you had shaken him

“Are you sure?” you teased, the situation moving more and more in your favour

“I--”

“I’m back!” she interrupted, a grin wide across her face as she slipped back into the booth, reaching across Freddie to grab her drink

“So..” you continued, ending the conversation between you and Freddie, “what are the plans for the rest of the night, you two?”

“Fred’s got practice tomorrow afternoon so we probably shouldn’t be out too late” she admitted, draping her arm over his shoulder before kissing his cheek

“We could go somewhere,” you added, noticing Freddie’s head snap back to you as a glare pierced through you, “just us girls. Catch up some more, dance a little? Like old times?”

“Rox..” she laughed, climbing onto her boyfriends lap, “I’m not really up for dancing tonight. I kinda miss our bed. All this alcohol is hitting me at once and I just wanna lay down”

“Hold on,” you mocked, “are we not young? Are we not healthy? Are we not vivacious?”

“Vivacious?” she chuckled

“Are we not sexy?” you added

“I don’t wanna dance tonight, Roxy” she countered

“I have something for you,” you smiled, glancing at Freddie, “for us”

“What’s that?” he asked

“Ecstasy” you said plainly, laughing as (Y/N) choked on her drink

“Hey!” she squirmed, “that’s illegal!”

“Relax,” you teased, “we’re not gonna get caught. I only have two tablets, so you each can have half”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea...” (Y/N) hesitated and you shrugged, swallowing the small pill quickly

“What?” you asked, “I’m not gonna waste a perfectly good pill, a perfectly good night, just because you’re not going to or because your boyfriend here as to stand around on ice tomorrow afternoon”

“Roxy, don’t be rude!” she yelled before Freddie threw the pill in his palm down his throat, taking a swig of (Y/N)’s old fashioned to chase it down, “FREDDIE?!”

“Babe, come on. It’ll be fine. Nothing bad will happen, I promise” he assured her

“We’re here for you” you added

“It’ll be fun” he said, nuzzling her neck with his nose and kissing her collarbone. She looked at the pill in her hand then back at you and Freddie, “why don’t we try something?”

“I don’t know what else you guys want me to try?” she whined, earning a small laugh from the two of you, “what?”

“No babe,” Freddie whispered, taking the pill from her palm, “let me take this and you just...” he leaned in, placing his fingers under her chin to bring her close to him, kissing her slowly and you watched as their tongues danced together, exchanging the pill. You noticed her hands tug at the fabric on his shoulders and you suddenly wondered how fast he could make her cum and if you could do better.

“Maybe should we get out of here...” you leaned in between them, catching (Y/N)’s stare while her puffy lips pouted and her breath began to build. She looked back at Freddie, biting her lip as she tried to gauge his reaction. When he looked over at you, you raised your eyebrows as if to say ‘come on’ and he nodded in return; the three of you took a car back to Freddie’s apartment, you and Freddie unable to keep your hands off of (Y/N). You sat behind her, hands on her hips, before you pushed her hair away from her neck, planting kisses along the side up to her ear while Freddie messaged her thighs and kissed her shoulder and her hand snaked to the back of his neck. Her moans filling the car let you know that the Ecstasy was kicking in, her hand falling from Freddie’s neck to your leg told you that tonight was going to be exactly what you hoped for.

You didn’t know how it happened but when the three of you stumbled into Freddie’s apartment, you were hypnotized by the sensations covering your body. Roxy kept her hands firmly on your waist as her lips continued to softly kiss your neck while Freddie directed the two of you to his bedroom, the windows covering the room in an amber hue.

“Lay down” Roxy whispered. You looked at Freddie before sitting down on the bed, not losing eye contact with him. Roxy was the first to take off any clothing, unbuttoning her blazer to expose the lacy bra she had underneath; you forgot how amazing her body was and you couldn’t control your hands reaching out to touch her. She smiled before leaning in to nip at your lips, placing her hands on either side of you as she hovered over you, making sure you were laying flat on the bed. You noticed her and Freddie exchange a look as if they could read each other’s minds; Roxy moved behind you while Freddie took her place in front of you. They started peeling of your clothes before their hands roamed your body, Roxy pulling you up gently to rest you in her lap before she leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. Freddie was taking his time with you, slowly kissing your thighs and teasing your core as he traded his lips from one thigh to the next, his breath cascading over your skin and driving you mad the more time that went by

“Oh god” you whined at the lack of connection you were getting, catching Freddie’s smirk as he pulled back to pull off his shirt and Roxy began massaging your scalp. You saw the two of them glare at each other before your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of Roxy’s fingers tangling in your hair

“You wanna fuck her?” you heard Freddie say, feeling his body hover over yours, “huh? Is that what you came here for?”

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Roxy returned

“This was your plan wasn’t it? When you texted her, you just didn’t think I’d be here” Freddie grumbled

“I had no idea you existed” she challenged, forcing your eyes to open

“What the hell is going on?” you yelled to them, sitting up so you were between them. Neither of them answered you, they only glared at each other before continuing to kiss either side of your neck, Roxy’s hand trailing down your body until she found your clit; circling it until you let out a raspy moan, “fuck!” Freddie continued kissing down your body, stopping to kiss your nipples for moment before he stood up to take off his jeans

“Sit up” Roxy whispered in your ear and you obliged, wrapping your arms around Freddie’s neck to pull him close to you, pushing your breasts to his chest while his hands grabbed your hips and Roxy removed her pants before taking her place behind you once more. “You’re so wet, baby” she smirked as your back began to arch at her touch

“You look so sexy” Freddie added lowly and you dropped your head against Roxy’s lap until she moved back to lay your head onto the mattress, placing her legs on either side of your head, encouraging you to begin working at her orgasm. You felt Freddie push your legs apart before he guided himself into you, eliciting a loud moan that rippled through Roxy, forcing her to curse into the open space. You pressed your tongue flat against Roxy’s folds as Freddie rocked into your hips, allowing your ministrations to reach Roxy without you trying too much but when she ground her hips down a little, you brought your fingers up, curling them inside her as Freddie’s hands gripped your waist and ground himself into you, harder and harder, you had to stop what you were doing

“Fuck!” you screamed, reaching out for him with one hand while your other remained where it was, your fingers pumping in and out of Roxy until she reached her climax. She sat back against the pillows as Freddie continued to fuck you, eventually swinging her legs to the side and making her way behind Freddie. You watched as she traced her fingers up his arms, kissing his shoulders while he crashed his hips against yours

“How tight does she feel?” you heard Roxy whisper to Freddie

“So tight” he moaned, Roxy continuing to glide her fingers across his body

“Such a beautiful pussy isn’t it?” she smirked, kissing his neck in the process

“God yes” he growled, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you up

“Make her cum” Roxy whispered once more, her hands moving to push his hips into yours. Their breathing synced with each other as they brought you to a mindless state of bliss

“Fuck” you breathed, the two of them crashing on the bed beside you, your chests rising and falling in sync.

“Well shit” Roxy laughed

“That was great” you smiled

“We’re not done yet...” she said before your hand fell into Freddie’s chest. He brought it to his lips and you felt him smile against your skin before they moved you up against the pillows. You were exhausted, and you couldn’t say you were surprised; a threesome seemed like a lot of work without the drugs and alcohol and just as much with them. You lazily danced your finger across Freddie’s arm as you caught your breath, letting your free hand glide up Roxy’s leg before she smiled at you. She cupped your face with her hand and pressed her lips to yours, parting your lips with her tongue, allowing you to melt into her body; you felt Freddie’s erection push into your ass before his lips connected with your earlobe. His hands pulled your hips into him while you continued to kiss Roxy, your fingers now tangling in her hair, before you felt Freddie thrust into you from behind. You hummed at the sensation but couldn’t break the kiss you were sharing with Roxy, letting Freddie fuck you as hard as he could.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good” he moaned

“Fuck” you moaned in return, catching Roxy’s eyes before she kissed down your body until she reached your centre. Circling your clit with her tongue as Freddie fucked you from behind, your body becoming overwhelmed by sensation. It wasn’t long before you reached your second high, letting out a squeal as both Freddie and Roxy found the exact right spot at the same time, Freddie biting your shoulder as he kept himself inside you until he came. You fell back into his chest, panting as you calmed down, smirking when Roxy didn’t come back up from where she was. “What are you doing down there?” you laughed

“I’m just catching my breath” she replied

“I’ll be right back” Freddie said, kissing your temple before getting up and heading into the en suite bathroom. He came back with a damp face cloth and began cleaning you up, turning your body gently to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Roxy scoffed when he left without doing the same for her, “I thought I’d get a clean cloth for you” he said as soon as he came back in the room, doing the same for her as he did for you.

“Well aren’t you just... perfect” she said, “prince of aftercare”

“He’s pretty great” you smiled

“Thanks,” he chuckled, “can I get anyone anything from the kitchen? Water?”

“No I’m good, thanks babe”

“I’ll take some wine if you got it. Wine always helps level me out after E” Roxy said

“You got it, Adrianne” he smirked, making his way downstairs quickly, leaving the two of you to giggle and gossip about him

“You really love him don’t you?” she said, pushing herself up onto the pillows where you were

“I do” you confessed

“You guys are good together” she replied and you could tell there was something she wasn’t saying

“Thanks...” you furrowed your brow, “what’s wrong, Rox?”

“Nothing,” she scoffed and you tilted your head, “no really. I just.. didn’t think I’d find you so domesticated”

“Domesticated?” you laughed, “what about this night says ‘domesticated?’”

“Not this night,” she smiled, “just how you are with him. It’s sweet. It’s just not what I expected”

“What did you expect?” you questioned

“I guess I thought you’d be independent. Being a boss ass bitch, like me,” she laughed, “and not wanting to settle down so you’d be f—”

“Filling my time with random hookups?” you interrupted and she shrugged like it was obvious, “you know I’m not like that. I’ve never been like that.”

“I’m happy for you” she added just as Freddie came in with her wine, nearly filled to the brim, “he’s a keeper” she whispered. She made quick work of the wine, finishing it almost immediately after she got it, and decided it was time she head out, “this was fun. Like really fun, but I think it’s time for me to go”

“Adrianne...” you sighed, using her full name to try to convince her to stay

“No really. I’ve got an early morning, you’ve got a busy day,” she replied, gesturing to a still-shirtless Freddie, “I had a great time but let’s just let it be that. It was nice to see you again, (Y/N), and it was nice to meet you, Freddie”

“You too, Adrianne” he smiled sweetly

“Oh please,” she laughed, “you’ve seen me naked. You can call me Roxy”

“Why is it Roxy? You never really told me...” you asked with a smile

“I went as Roxanne, or what I thought Roxanne would look like, for Halloween one year. You know like the Police song?” she explained while you and Freddie nodded, “well anyway, everyone got tired of singing the song to me, real quick, and Roxy was born”

“I like that story” you smiled, noticing the shyest smile creep over Adrianne’s face; it was the first time she’d really been truly vulnerable with you

“Take care of her, okay?” she said to Freddie

“I will” he replied

“Take care of yourself, Adrianne” you said softly

“I will” and just like that, she was gone. You tucked yourself into your boyfriends chest and fell asleep; mumbling that you loved him before everything went dark. You weren’t sure if or when you’d ever hear from her again but, if one thing came from this night, you were pretty sure nothing was just sex anymore for Roxy.

#Frederik Andersen #Frederik Andersen imagine #Frederik Andersen smut #Frederik Andersen fic #Frederik Andersen request #Freddie Andersen #Freddie Andersen imagine #Freddie Andersen request #Freddie Andersen smut #masterlist #the other masterlist #nhl #hockey #tml

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cosplayinamerica · 4 years

Photo

Retsuko & Fenneko from Aggretsuko: rthetagrey & rtheta_kamala // photo: nempko

EJEN: The Retsuko shoot has a really nice office feel to it! Can you talk about the shoot ? What was it like, how was it put together, etc? RTHETAGREY: The weirdest part of this is that the Retsuko shoot was done in two places that are SO far from an office! The brightly lit scenes of me and Fenneko were shot in the lobby of the Doubletree in South Bend, when we were attending Ramencon.

The pictures of the two of us on the laptop were done in the convention center, which is actually a local museum and community center in addition to being an event space. We used an empty painting studio!

Ramencon has an incredible amount of diverse places to shoot and I always appreciate being able to shoot different things at the same con. Sometimes shooting on-location at a con can get a bit monotonous, but there is always something interesting to shoot at Ramencon!

EJEN: Why Retsuko, what draws you to her?

RTHETAGREY: Retsuko is the ultimate millenial in the workplace. I'm 27, and worked two grueling jobs directly out of college, so Retsuko's daily life really spoke to me. She works hard and feels unrecognized, and she comes home and feels frustrated. That was me for SO LONG! My outlet for my frustration at work was definitely cosplay, so I also empathize with her unique way of letting loose :)

EJEN: How was the cosplay put together?

RTHETAGREY : Retsuko (and Fenneko!) are actually both mostly from Amazon! My wife and I put them together to use as matching costumes while hosting Kentokyocon's masquerade last year, something we have been doing every year for the last...I think 5 years?

We moved from Ohio back to Chicago over the summer of 2019 and our supplies were split between two apartments while we moved, so making something totally from scratch wasn't possible.

We always have something new and something that matches for Kentokyocon, and Retsuko/Fenneko wear standard office wear, which was easy to find on the internet. I made both sets of ears and tails myself out of faux fur, wire, and alligator clips/headbands.

EJEN: How has cosplay impacted your life? RTHETAGREY It has honestly taken me a full 2 weeks to write the answer to this question. I keep coming back to this and writing increasingly complex answers, but the reality of cosplay is that it has not impacted my life -- it is my life. Cosplay has given my life meaning and purpose. Cosplay gave me the closest group of friends I have ever had, a group that I can depend on for the rest of my life. Cosplay gave me a world to express myself in a way that any one creative medium simply can't alone. Cosplay gave me endless worlds in which to fall in love with my incredible wife, Kamala. Nearly every happiness I experience in my life, I owe to cosplay.

Without it, I truly would not be myself.

___________________________________

Aggretsuko on Amazon https://amzn.to/38Gsppw

#Retsuko #Retsuko cosplay #Fenneko #Fenneko cosplay #Aggretsuko #Aggretsuko cosplay #cosplay #cosplay interview

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 286: VESTIGE ANTICS ARE A GO

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “what’s the record for most consecutive bone breaks within the span of a single minute” and, without waiting for an answer, proceeded to unleash roughly 17 Smashes onto Tomura. Kacchan was all “THAT DOES IT, I’M TAKING THE REINS OF THIS SHITSHOW” and carried Endeavor and Shouto up to where the action was so Endeavor could hit Tomura with a Prominence Burn. AFO was all “Tomura would you rather burn to death or let me take over your body” and Tomura was all “...” and so AFO TOOK OVER and was all “STABBITY STABBITY” and used his Stabbing Quirk to do some Good Old Fashioned STABBIN’. First he stabbed Endeavor, and then he was all “hee and now I’m gonna stab Deku”, but Kacchan was all “SIR THAT’S MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT RIVAL” and so he rushed on in AND GOT HIMSELF STABBED INSTEAD. And so basically THIS PAST WHOLE WEEK HAS BEEN A RIDE, LET ME TELL YOU.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all “sup Deku lemme just downplay how I totally took this fatal blow for you just now” before he dramatically passes out and is caught by Todoroki “BTDUBS I CAN FLY NOW” Shouto, who is also carrying his dad because the kids really are just doing it all, here. AllForRaki Tomura For One is all “HAHA BAKUGOU IS PRETTY DUMB”, at which point Deku just LOSES IT ENTIRELY and ASCENDS INTO A NEW PLANE OF FURY LIKE A LITTLE GREEN RAGE BUDDHA. But then like two seconds later Tomura is all “ANYWAY, SO” and FUCKING TOUCHES DEKU’S FACE, CAUSING THE TWO OF THEM TO ASTROPROJECT INTO THE FREAKY OFA/AFO MINDSCAPE BECAUSE THIS CHAPTER IS BANANAS. Vestige!AFO is all “reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated but aren’t you glad I saved your life though, Tomura”, while Tomura is all “!!” because he’s hopefully starting to get A Clue, and meanwhile Deku just stands there watching all “what the fuck.” The chapter ends with SHIMURA MCFUCKING NANA showing up all, “HI, I HEARD SOME BITCHES WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC, AND THEY DIDN’T INVITE ME.” Go on, Nana. Give ‘em hell.

you guys. I’m not normally one to take pleasure in another human being’s misfortune. BUT THAT SAID, there are exceptions to every rule, and so let’s just say certain events have transpired early this morning which have PUT ME IN A VERY, LET’S JUST SAY, NOT-TERRIBLE MOOD which this chapter will hopefully improve upon!!

oh my god Deku’s one non-fucked-up eye that he still has control over is SO WIDE YOU GUYS

hmm I know I shouldn’t be all (゜▽゜) while the two of them are all (； ▼ Д ▼) (⁰ Д゜;) ... and yet here we are. btw I’m worried tumblr’s formatting will ruin those two emojis which I worked so hard to get just right so I’m gonna repost them on another line here just in case

(； ▼ Д ▼) (⁰ Д゜;) that’s them. Kacchan and Deku. my boys

HERE COMES THE CHEESY “JUST GOT STABBED BETTER PLAY IT OFF ALL COOL!!!” ONE LINER OH MY GOD

(ETA: really love how my son, with what for all he knows could be his dying breaths, decides that the absolute most important thing is to preserve his selfish asshole facade so as not to fuck up his status quo with his rival. “LOOKEE HERE I GOT MYSELF ALL STABBED AND SHIT FOR YOU, BUT I TOTALLY JUST DID IT BECAUSE I WAS TIRED OF YOU GETTING ALL THE COOL HERO MOMENTS” yeah, that’s right! SELFLESS MOTIVATIONS, WHAT ARE THOSE sob.

also tbh I’m glad they didn’t delve any further into their feelings right here and now because this really isn’t the place or time for it sadly. WE WILL JUST PUT THOSE ON HOLD UNTIL AFTER THE ARC ENDS, when they are all recovering from their various wounds and traumas and have time to catch up and have some long-overdue heart-to-hearts. it deserves its own chapter or two or three. maybe time to head back to Ground Beta once they’re healthy? “healthy” perhaps being a relative term given their current condition fjsdjkf.)

by the way it looks from here like only the ones through his torso and shoulder actually hit, so that’s something at least. WE’VE LOST ENOUGH LEGS TODAY. I need to conserve my remaining puns

MEANWHILE TOMURA IS HAVING A CRISIS

ARE YOU MAD AT YOUR EVIL DAD TOMURA. HE JUST WON’T TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER WILL HE, THAT GUY

anyway so it looks like Kacchan might have caught a break here because AFO/Tomura is pulling the stabby quirk activation tendril things back out! rip, “Kacchan vs. Deku part 3″ theories

p.s. I got ALL CAUGHT UP IN THE DRAMA and thus glossed over the chapter title which is “one among us”! hmmm this is definitely AFO/OFA related, calling it now. ooh lord I am excited

NOW MY SON IS DRAMATICALLY FALLING

THE BLOOD FROM THE MOUTH OOF NOT GOOD AHHHH. DEKU’S FACE AHHHH. HIS BODY JUST WENT TOTALLY LIMP DID HE PASS OUT AHHHH. SOMEONE CATCH HIM!!

BY HIS FOOT, SHOUTO?!

well NOT EXACTLY THE MOST GRACEFUL THING I’VE EVER SEEN, but we’ll allow it because HOLY SHIT BOY. ARE YOU ALREADY CARRYING YOUR DAD ON TOP OF THAT?? HORIKOSHI PLEASE CONFIRM, IS TODOROKI MOTHERFUCKING SHOUTO FUCKING FLYING AROUND UNBALANCED AF ON HIS ONE FLAMEY LEG, CARRYING HIS 500 LB POP AND NOW HIS FLOPPY PASSED OUT BEST FRIEND AS WELL?!? HOLY SHIT TODO?!?!

LADIES AND GENTLEFRIENDS OF THE VILLAIN STANDOM, FEAR NOT, TOMURA’S HAIR IS THE FIRST THING THAT GREW BACK LOL

even before his eyeballs kfldkakjk. which, btw, how does he even know what’s going on right now? “this fight has shed a lot of useless blood” sdkmkjl okay well (1) WHOSE FAULT WAS THAT, AGAIN??, (2) SERIOUSLY THOUGH, HOW DOES HE EVEN KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING. DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO YOU STABBED?? ARE YOU EFFECTIVELY BLIND FOR THE NEXT FEW SECONDS HERE, WHAT’S GOING ON, and lastly (3) I seriously can’t tell if this is AFO or Tomura talking right now. or are they going back and forth?? help this is so confusing

HEY

THE DISRESPECT. I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW KACCHAN ANGST IS NEVER USELESS!!

AND NOW HE’S BACK TO THE STABBING JFKJLKJLF I AM NOT TOO HAPPY WITH YOU RIGHT NOW MISTER

okay and now we’re cutting to some quick panels of the unconscious Aizawa, Gran, and Ryuukyuu, along with the “still conscious but in a very real sense might as well not be counted” Manual who is really having a day, that poor guy

anyway but then there’s also some dialogue boxes being all “if you act out of rage your power will respond accordingly, the most important part is to keep your head clear.” which I’m like 90% sure is Deku/OFA related, but honestly NOTHING ABOUT THIS CHAPTER IS CLEAR SO FAR YOU GUYS. except for the Shouto-is-a-badass part anyway

HMM YEP I’M GONNA GO WITH DEKU-RELATED

it must be a callback to some line I’m forgetting. maybe Lariat explaining Blackwhip to him that one time. probably should have been in italics if it was a flashback quote, but hey. anyways the point is Deku is absolutely, 100% following this advice to the letter (/s)

(ETA: yep I’m almost positive this is the same quote from chapter 213. “listen, when you use this power out of anger, it’ll really start working for you. what really matters is controlling your heart.” which is still one of the weirdest pieces of advice in the entire series, but basically I think he was just trying to tell him it’s okay to get mad, so long as it’s calmly mad. like, controlled fury, as opposed to this white-hot berserker nonsense he’s been running on as of late. anyways I do still love me some shounen rage all the same but Lariat has a point.)

...

it took me a minute to realize THOSE WERE DEKU’S EYES. holy --

AND ANOTHER MINUTE TO REALIZE THAT DEKU FUCKING GRABBED THE ACTIVATION TENDRIL WITH HIS BUSTED UP OFA HANDS AND BIT INTO IT WITH HIS RABID OFA JAWS AND SNAPPED THAT SHIT LIKE A FUCKING KITKAT KLJLKSJDLKJFLK WOOOOOOOO I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT GODDAMN. POWER MOVE

(ETA: this is a two-page spread omg. I didn’t even realize at first. this scan ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT DO THIS BADASS PAGE ANY KIND OF JUSTICE but I can’t wait to see the real deal on Sunday holy shit.)

LMAO

DEKU RAGED SO HARD HE TURNED INTO AN ANGRY GHOST SONIC THE HEDGEHOG FKLSKG

(ETA: he actually looks a bit like the Vestiges/Kurogiri tbh.)

meanwhile Tomura basically has the exact same face I would have had in his position. yeah for real man. I don’t even know

p.s. WHEN will people learn to STOP INSULTING KACCHAN IN DEKU’S PRESENCE. WHEN, I ASK!!

WHAT IN THE CINNAMON TOAST FUCK

if this was a physical page I was holding I would have FLUNG THAT SHIT AWAY LIKE THERE WAS A SPIDER CRAWLING ON IT. WHAT THE FUCK

HOT DAMN. well uh. so that’s SUPER DISTURBING, what a lovely panel of Tomura’s melted face slowly growing back while his ears lag behind, and meanwhile that little scar that had been growing and growing and which at one point certain people (ME) thought might turn him into a BEAUTIFUL BUTTERLY instead RIPS HIS FACE IN HALF to reveal the KINDER EGG AFO SURPRISE UNDERNEATH AHHHHH TAKE IT BACK

THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T LET MAD SCIENTISTS PERFORM EXPERIMENTS ON YOU, KIDS. PSA. JUST SAY NO

-- NO!!!

HORIKOSHI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

fuck

oh my god. I almost would have rather cut away right after the Kacchan incident than freaking cut away NOW of all times, jesus. THAT’S JUST A BITCH MOVE, IS WHAT THAT IS. if we don’t cut back within the next three pages I SWEAR TO GOD

anyway so GUESS WHAT GIGANTOMACHIA’S DOING YOU GUYS. if you guessed “the exact same thing he was doing last time we saw him” then you are absolutely right, because it was actually PRETTY EASY TO GUESS

anyway but he says he detects “master’s scent”, except that there’s apparently two of them. interesting! one in Tartarus and one in Jakku, right? lol Horikoshi has burned me so many times already with his excruciatingly slow reveal of this that I’m not gonna hold my breath just yet, but I’ll get the hype train warmed up JUST IN CASE

okay so meanwhile in downtown Jakku, the heroes are handing off the civilians over to the police and rescue forces while they prepare to engage with “the villain”, by which I assume they mean Gigantomachia. does this mean Iida and Ochako are gonna fight Machia you guys omg

OOH!!!

“PLEASE INFORM THEM ON FOOT” well I know a certain SPEEDY BOI who would be PERFECT for that job oh my. make haste, Tenyar FastmLeggy

WAIT WHICH WAY ARE THEY HEADING

ARE THEY HEADING TOWARDS MACHIA OR TOWARDS DEKU AND AFO

so rather than answering my VERY PERTINENT question, Ochako is instead spending an entire page thinking about how their complete clusterfuck of a life keeps getting exponentially worse all the time! well but she’s not wrong though

NOW SHE’S ALL “GUYS...!” and, rather than explaining ANYTHING AT ALL, Horikoshi is again cutting back to THIS, OMG AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: good thing Kacchan wasn’t awake to see his dramatic “I’ll just get myself impaled for Deku’s sake” plan result in this outcome ALL OF TWENTY SECONDS LATER smdh.)

I ACTUALLY PREFER MY DEKUS NON-CRUMBLED, THANKS. ALSO JUST ON A SIDE NOTE, POOR SHOUTO THOUGH. THE LAST NINETY SECONDS OR SO HAVE BEEN ENOUGH NIGHTMARE FUEL FOR A LIFETIME HAVEN’T THEY

so now he’s all “MIDORIYA!!!�� because OF COURSE HE IS. his best friend just got impaled, and his dad too, and now he fully expects to see his other best friend crumble to dust right before his eyes holy shit. T R A U M A ™

-- !!!

somehow in the excitement of the moment I forgot his actual goal for a sec lol. meaning I instantaneously switched from HORRIFIED to GRINNING LIKE A MANIAC :D :D :D come on OFA time to show him what’s what

AND NOW WE’RE SWITCHING OVER TO EVERYONE’S FAVORITE TRIPPY DREAM LANDSCAPE FOR ADDITIONAL DRAMA, WELL OKAY

I’M ON BOARD WITH THIS, WHATEVER. also it’s becoming increasingly apparent that Deku is in fact nekkid underneath that mystical cloud bs, so let’s hope one of his remaining yet-to-be-unlocked quirks is a pants-conjuring quirk lulz

“this place...” yeah we all fucking know what this place is son, let’s get on with this. by my count we’ve only got four pages left so PLEASE BUDGET THEM WISELY

OH MY

holy shit. I have so many screaming thoughts about this lol but I just want to keep on reading lkjlkjlkjl okay I’ll come back later and edit them in, how’s that

OR MAYBE I’LL JUST RANT ABOUT THEM NOW GODDAMMIT

shit. okay let me just try and sum this up as quick as I can

so just in case it wasn’t already crystal clear, AFO’s soul being roommates with Tomura’s seems to be just about 100% confirmed now. good for you, All For One For All theory!! the “Kacchan loses his quirk” theory died so that you might live on in glory

AFO does seem to have almost fully taken control now. it looks like Tomura’s still fighting back, but AFO clearly has the upper hand now if their body language is any indication. Tomura on his knees with AFO calmly holding him down and ignoring his struggles... not looking too good for him at the moment

people seem to have somewhat lost sight of this in the midst of the great “heroes vs. villains Who Is Right Who Is Wrong What Are Morals” debate of 2020, but just a friendly reminder that AFO is in fact responsible for 100% of all of Tomura’s suffering from pretty much the moment he was born up till this very moment we’re now witnessing!! like, you can go ahead and blame Nana and Gran and The Complacent Apathy Of Hero Society and whatever the fuck else from here till Sunday, but All for One is the reason Kotarou was orphaned. All for One is almost certainly the reason why the seemingly quirkless Tenko suddenly just magically developed THE MOST FUCKED UP QUIRK OF ALL TIME at the worst possible moment. All for One is probably the reason why no one helped Traumatized Baby Tenko in the immediate aftermath (I can and likely will write a separate post about this in the near future). All for One is definitely the reason why no one helped Tenko at any point after that. All for One is the reason why Tenko grew up all fucked in the head (“HERE’S YOUR DEAD FAMILY’S HANDS, MERRY CHRISTMAS”), and the reason why he grew up blaming Heroes and Society rather than the sole person who was actually responsible who was literally standing right in front of him the entire time. and lastly, All for One is the reason why Tomura has now been manipulated into unknowingly sacrificing his own body and possibly even his mind. so THANKS A LOT FOR THAT. more like jerk for one amiright

basically what I’m trying to say is that Deku and Tomura are not actually enemies here, and they never have been. the two of them have a common enemy, and I’m convinced Tomura’s story is about him eventually coming to realize this. and this looks to be the first step towards that, for two reasons. one, because AFO is finally starting to out himself to Tomura as the rat bastard he has always been. and two, because Deku is catching a glimpse of this now for the very first time. up until now he didn’t have a damn clue lol. but this is now something for him to file away in the back of his mind, and perhaps follow up on at a later date, once all of this craziness finally subsides and he has some time to process

anyway, so that’s basically it! tl;dr AFO is the final villain and unless I’m very much mistaken, this scene is going to finally start to set that up. let’s read on!

OMG

NANA?!?

lKDSJFLKSHGLISHDOGIHOLRKL

NOOOOOO I can’t believe it fucking ended there I can’t fucking believe it, fuck everything

smdh. what a place to end it. didn’t confirm a damn thing. not even whose mental landscape all of this is actually taking place in! like, don’t mind me though Horikoshi, it’s not like THE FATE OF THE WORLD HINGES ON THIS QUESTION OR ANYTHING except oh wait it really kind of does. kljkj

but seriously. because if it’s Deku’s mind, it means that Tomura’s attempt to take his quirk wasn’t successful. but if it’s Tomura’s mind, though... well... hhhhhhkhfff

or it could be both, I guess. more of that “AFO and OFA are the same quirk and thus linked” goodness. oh man. anyways stay tuned for next week when Nana presumably helps Deku out with the rest of that black fog and also hopefully finds him some pants. or maybe Nana can just go fight AFO herself. a little payback for everything he’s done to her protege and to her grandson. either way I CAN’T WAIT omg. VESTIGE ANTICS ARE A GO

#bnha 286 #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #all for one #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #shimura nana #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #never thought we'd be this close to getting to see nana punch afo in the face #please horikoshi I beg of you please let this happen #if this holds up next week pretty much every single lady of bnha will have gotten their chance to shine in this arc #well except for ochako #but things are looking up on that front too!#what a time to be alive

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lovevenji-endgame · 3 years

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I have to go on yet another rant because the more I think about s2 the more upset I am. I was so excited for this season and the way I feel about it now is so disappointing. I honestly don't know if I'm going to watch s3 because I don't trust the writers to not go for the full on drama factor and fuck shit up again.

I am so sick of all the Benji hate because not only did people turn on him so fucking fast, but people aren't seeing this from anyone's perspective except Victor's. (Don't get me started on how they are willing to see Rahim's though) People saying Benji was problematic from the beginning and pushing Victor to come out- just no. Benji was cool with waiting but Victor wanted to tell people so he was like "okay sweet, you got this" then Victor changed his mind so Benji had to be like "oh okay..take your time, do what you need to do" then Victor changed his mind AGAIN! Benji spent half the time trying to play catch-up with which way Victor was leaning. (Victor is valid for changing his mind, but can we not see how that would fuck up Benji?) He wanted to quit the team because they were dicks? Benji was like "uhh yeah fuck them!" then Victor, who never really communicated with Benji about his feelings about the situation, changed his mind again. So Benji apologized.

Isabel's impact on Benji? Can we talk about that? Because imagine being in love with someone and not being able to go to their house or interact with them in front of their parents because their parent doesn't approve and the parent refuses to acknowledge your existence. Benji just wanted Victor's mom to accept him and their relationship and when she had no problem being like "I love Rahim" of course Benji is going to be hurt? Victor did him dirty on that. I get Victor is a mama's boy, BUT how did he NOT see how that would affect Benji? The boy was bound to lose it at some point and after the emotional birthday night, it was like he hit his limit.

Victor and the whole AA thing really fucking annoys me. Why does Benji need to apologize for not telling victor about it? He wanted to tell him in his own time but his parents put him on blast ON HIS BIRTHDAY! I speak from experience when I say being a part of AA as a teenager is extremely difficult and embarrassing. It is something so personal that you wish you didn't really have to share with other people and to share it with someone you love is not an easy task. I get that Victor is hurt Benji didn't tell him, but again can we please see Benji's side of things?? That annoyed the shit outta me. Yes, Benji said some shit he shouldn't have, but his spot was just blown up in a big way and he was emotional about it. I'm so annoyed at Victor for that. And I'm annoyed at people not being understanding of that! AND he told Rahim? Victor, I love you but fuck you for that. Can we PLEASE get some Benji POV? We got everyone else's...

Oof..the Vahim thing..where to begin. The world has enough dumbass love triangles in the shows/movies, we did not need another one. This was a dumb move by the writers. I could go on for days about how much I hated this love triangle shit but I'll try and keep it brief. Not only did they throw this in at the end, they did it in the weirdest way possible. Benji and Victor were going through some shit and instead of showing them working through it and communicating or at the very least saying to each other "shit sucks right now, but this is worth it" they decide to throw in another dude. They had this perfect opportunity to make such a good Victor/Rahim friendship but now that has been tainted even if they do go in that direction in the end (which they won't). Victor was at one of his lowest and most vulnerable points, he repeatedly said he loved Benji and was heartbroken that he thinks Benji is going to break up with him and instead of having a supportive friend, we got this....ugh. Also, to everyone saying Rahim can understand the religious parents part so he can connect with with Victor in ways Benji can't, true for the most part....except Rahim's parents were cool with it whereas Benji's parents were NOT initially. Couples can have different interests and experiences and still work. They just need to COMMUNICATE.

If they have Victor choose Rahim either at the beginning of s3 or at the end...I just can't get with that. So shit gets hard and Victor bails because he spent one or two good days with a guy he just met? How does that make sense? If they have Victor choose Rahim in the end, I'm out. What was the point of all the build up for Venji? To throw it under the bus? I don't get it. I know writers love drama, but believe it or not it is possible to make a good and entertaining show with having stable couples. Can they fight? Sure, but they can also communicate. It's not boring to having a stable couple. They went the lazy route on this.

The writers opened the door for this fandom to become toxic and guess what...it happened. Based on fandom reaction to this season and how the LV social media team is handling things, I do not trust them for s3 tbh. I know that they will play this triangle out for the entire season or some shit. I also just want Venji endgame...fucking sue me.

Believe it or not..this was me keeping it brief hahahaha. I have no one to talk to about this so here is my stream of consciousness that no one cares about. Also...the chances of this making any sense are slim to none so if you got this far...god love ya!

#so frustrated #i also need to leave this fandom because holy shit #people are getting toxic af #i just wanted happy venji #and venji communicating #this is so disheartening #and to the people who are annoyed at me not watching s3 if venji ain't end game....oh well #i will also miss the michael and george friendship tbh #venji #is #endgame...pleas #*please

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weaselbeaselpants · 4 years

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Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism; the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day, but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with. Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa. It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton. Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #critical fandom #I'm sorry to all the people I messaged n bothered over the past year bout my stupid thoughts #tw: stalker

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golbrocklovely · 2 years

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i would have had this out sooner, but i completely forgot to do it until now lol

here's my reaction/review of snc's sixth video in their attachment series

aka "A Terrifying Experience at Insane Asylum (Madison Seminary)"

so happy we got another video with nate in this series. ngl, he is probably one of my favorite ppl that they collab with it.

to start off, i love the fact that they apparently didn't know what a seminary was. maybe it's just bc i lived near a catholic university for a bit, but i kinda weirdly thought that was common knowledge lol

i also love that they said it only became an epicenter of grief once it became a home for women and children who lost their fathers/husbands to war…

i'm not even gonna say anything to that.

idk what it was about this episode in particular, but…. i don't think i like adam. in the previous episode he was fun and dandy, but in this one… idk. i'm kinda uncomfortable by him.

what i will say is that i did like his description of ppl leaving energy in all these different locations and that's why certain places get more and more haunted over time. that's something i agree with, that i think certain ppl have attachments to themselves that they bring to all these places during investigations/visits (plus their own energy), and that energy can stick around or detach from them and stay in locations.

also, possibly the weirdest side note, i really like how colby says the word egregore lol

so… snc bringing up the weird beef adam has with mustafa was very unlike them (as @xplrvibes also said in her review). it was very strange for them to basically bring up internet beef, let alone bring it up to adam too. not to mention, but they didn't really do anything with this information besides say it to adam, and then adam just went like "nah, he's lying" and they just agreed lol

way to be hard hitting reporters there, snc.

honestly, my favorite quote from this whole video is from steve saying "everything about the paranormal is an opinion" and i couldn't agree more with that.

i will say tho, adam talking about how "other places" will put sea salt on windows to keep spirits, "almost like modern day slavery",….. that's an off-handed comment that i just don't agree with at all. like…………

anywayz

colby is 100% psychic in some regard. him going up to that one doll without even knowing it's maddie, and then playing with that one door, which was being slammed in a video…. he has abilities and needs to talk to a professional right now so that he can better understand himself and what he has.

also higkey i was wondering when they were gonna get a honey brand deal. everyone i follow under the sun has gotten one, it's about time they got one too.

sam's inability to realize that a traumatic experience someone had in a haunted location is probs not one they want to relive…. unmatched. no one else is quite like him, huh.

idk what it was but the intro to this video dragged on for so long. i will say it was their longest intro, just slightly over 30 mins. but yeah, rewatching it to write this review was annoying.

nonetheless, onto the investigation:

the basement with the hole, all of that was really interesting. idk why they had to put nate in the hole when they could have just put the equipment in there. however, it was still pretty cool to hear the spirit box thingy that sam had make sense to what they were talking about.

with the amount of energy colby gives off, that maddie doll must have been having the time of its life lol

all these little noises that they hear but we can't is really annoying to me. that's why they need a second camera in the hallway or something (which they plan on doing in season 2…. allegedly)

i love the second that they started saying "we're the vessels the spirits need to move from place to place" colby was SO QUICK to jump and say "i don't think it's us, it's just you sam" sksksks something about that was so funny

personally, i don't love that idea that they now think (possibly) that the thing that is attached to sam could be directing him to choose some of these locations, or is making him go to these hot spots bc of some (possible) sinister reason. if you start to believe that type of thing, you're gonna make yourself crazy second guessing yourself. plus, if the thing attached is bad, you're giving it more power.

the automatic ouija board thing that they are now using…. please stop. it doesn't really do anything. also it just looks lame as hell lol

i will say tho, while they were in the middle of doing that session, when they turned down the hallway to look bc they thought they heard footsteps, idk if any of you can see, but i saw that the pipe on the wall literally shakes or moves in some way. so… that was pretty freaky.

the picture that they drew…. ehh. sure, i guess it was a surgeon's tool.

all those noises in the hallway while they were in the doctor's room was kinda creepy ngl. knowing me tho, i would step into the hallway just to make sure someone wasn't actually in the building fucking around.

sam: did you want us to come into this room so you could torture us? colby: *violently shakes his head* nate: yo, don't ask that.

all of their devices going off gives me a bit of anxiety. maybe it's also bc of the high pitch noises everything makes. i don't think my ears can take that type of noise haha

nate with the fucking one-liners. them having sam stay in the corner by himself, mimicking what steve went thru, and nate's reply of "jesus, this is some weird fire to play with"…. I AGREE WITH YOU. YOU'RE SO SMART. LET'S MAKE OUT.

i'm starting to thirst after nate. someone please send help lol

those steps while they were doing this experiment was freaky. also, when sam came out of the room, he looked like he saw a ghost. he was also shivering… so that happened.

okay overall, i think (after looking at my other reviews and trying to figure out what to rate this) i'm gonna rate this episode a 3/5 but just barely. it was good, but it just fell a little short to me. idk what it was, but something about this episode was very 'meh' like for an extensive period of time. maybe it was all the attachment talk. idk. so far, there are only two episode in the whole series that they've released that went above a 3. not looking to good there boys. but you still got some time. hopefully today's episode and the season finale are good.

can't imagine the finale being good only bc amanda's in it, but i'll try to stay positive.

#sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock #nate hardy #season one #personal #text

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dramionecommentfest · 4 years

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Reader Profile: Kiwi05622

The Dramione Comment Fest is the fest where readers take center stage! We’re excited to feature profiles of some of our readers throughout the course of the fest. First up, we have the most delightful and lovely @kiwi05622!

Location: Middle East Hogwarts House: Slytherin Pronouns: she/her When did you start reading Dramione? How did you originally find fics to read? I started reading in 2017… I think. Or was it 18? I'm not sure anymore. But one of those years lol! So yes, I'm still relatively new to the fandom. But I have devoured so much that it's come to the point where all the stories I've read have started to mingle with each other, and I can't tell you which story is which unless it had a massive impression on me and stood out. How did I find fics? I had this friend of mine, who was a closeted fic reader (I will never forgive her for not introducing me to this world sooner) that kept on dropping these obscure hints my way whenever Harry Potter would come up in our discussions, which was often. She would call me and ask what I'm doing, and my answer would either be, I'm reading HP, or watching one of the movies. She never once judged me or asked me why I'm spending so much time re-reading and rewatching, and I love her for that. One night, she got a little frustrated with me when I whined about NEEDING MORE of it, and she snapped. She was like KIWI JUST GIVE ME TWO CHARACTERS THAT YOU LOVE, and I shyly replied Hermione and Draco? She had the audacity to sigh (she is not a Dramione lover by any means). She sent me a link to Ao3 with a message "Welcome to my life, and I wish you luck stepping foot inside this black hole. Bye.” because I didn't know better. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, I clicked on the FIRST link I found, and this is how Bleak Manor by Pushthebutton became the first story that made me -surprisingly- fall in love with Dramione and fan fiction. How have you gotten more involved in the Dramione community? What platforms/websites have you participated in, and which do you like? I'm not VERY involved in the fandom, if I'm honest. I'm an introvert by nature. Even though I started reading years ago, I only started joining Facebook groups last year. From there, I stumbled onto Tumblr (which was the weirdest platform I've ever been on, but now I LOVE IT), which then led me to Discord. This is where I'm currently stationed. I'm not as active as I used to be on Facebook. I also reached out to many people on Discord and found friends that I no longer call "internet friends," and I find it easier to communicate to authors over there.

Tell us about any reading preferences or practices! Okay, I won't talk about my past habits, because looking back, it was really unhealthy. But I remember I used to read at every waking hour; I would only *sleep* to generate energy to keep ongoing: Goodbye food and social life. However, now, I dedicate time to reading, and it's usually 2 hours before I sleep. So I'll have dinner, and then open up my kindle and read until my eyes can't stay open. My days are usually spent talking to friends and doing many things that need to get done. I started off reading with my laptop until my boyfriend got annoyed by the bright lights emanating from my screen (honestly I didn't even think about reading from my phone). He later suggested reading from the iPad, and I stuck to that for a fair bit, until one night, I ran out of battery, and I couldn’t find the charger, so I reluctantly read from my phone, which I later obviously loved. I could read on the train, while making dinner, taking a walk (because we all need to exercise at some point). Then, after my boyfriend was SURE this wasn't just a phase, and I'll probably be reading for the rest of my life, he surprised me with a kindle, and the rest is history.

Do you like to leave comments? If so, what is your advice for leaving comments? If I'm completely honest with you, sometimes. I'm guilty of moving on from a chapter to chapter without taking a moment to comment. Telling myself that I'll go back and let the author know how much I enjoyed this part or that part. But I forget. Once I'm done with a story, I want to MOVE ON to the next one. However, in the past year, I've made an active effort to write down everything I feel on my phone while I read on my kindle, so I can go back and paste my review. That’s the other thing, I read SO much from my kindle, that it makes it so easy to forget to go back online and submit a review. And with Discord, I usually read with my friends, and sometimes the author will be there while we talk, theorise and flail all over their work. It's a much more interactive experience. I think authors would prefer that over a thank you. This isn't to say that a thank you doesn't go a long way or isn't appreciative, but honestly, how many times can an author say you're welcome? Or thank you for reading? This takes me to the second part of your question. The one advice I would give is, don't expect a response back. Do it because you genuinely liked it. Suppose we keep expecting and wanting the author to respond, especially if a chapter gets SO MANY reviews. In that case, it might seem disheartening to the reviewer, and they're left feeling unseen or that their review was lacking, which isn't the case most of the time. Tell them how it made you feel, which parts did you love, which string of emotion was plucked and left vibrating in your chest. Tell them that. But also, saying a simple thank you is enough. Personally, I would go to the last chapter and tell the author how much I've enjoyed their story if it's a story that was posted years or months back. If it's a story published years ago and they seem inactive, I would slide into their DMs and flail all over the story. You'd be surprised how many actually respond.

What is your all-time favorite fic you’ve read? ALL TIME FAVOURITE is such a difficult question to answer. So I’ll compromise and tell you which one I really really really LOVE but also list a few that I can't be parted with. If my room was caught on fire and I had all these stories in front of me and I had to only choose ONE I would say Risk Reward Ratio by @MissiAmphetamine and its sequel! Okay, I know I cheated, but *sigh* honestly I love it. And I’m not sorry about it either. It's not what you would typically hear because it's not really a fluffy story and there are some questionable actions, plots and let’s not start discussing their relationship. But you see, I enjoy a story that questions my morals sometimes, where I find myself asking “what would I do in this situation?” Plus, as you’ll see below, I have a thing for angst with a happy ending. That being said, I also love love love these stories and they each hold meaning to me, because I've read them at various stages of my life:

Redemption by @anondracomalfoy (wonderfully written story and very enjoyable!!! It’s a memory trope mixed with some suspense)

Revert by SUPRNTRAL LVR (this is when I found out that I can actually cry while reading a story lol)

Remain Nameless by @heyjude19-writing (I will FOREVER love this story and no one can taint it for me. If you ONLY knew how much this story means to me *cough* I spent every moment I wasn’t reading this making her moodboards that's how much it moved me *cough*)

The Art of Betrayal by @hathawaywrites

Across The Hall by @takingflight48 (this one just hold a special place in my heart)

Thirteenth Night by Nelpher (This is the story that changed my mind about memory loss trope which is my LEAST favourite)

Nightmares and Nocturnes by @olivieblake (one of the most creative and unique war stories ever written)

Hindsight by @floorcoaster (This changed my mind about T rated stories)

Broken by @inadaze22 (this taught me a lesson to READ THE TAGS, but the pain was worth it)

Sugar and Spice by @inlovewithforever (ummmm do I need to say more? This is one of the best triads I've ever read)

Looking Glass by @kyonomiko (Every time I'm in a rut I go back to THIS and it never fails to bring me back to life and remind me why I fell in love with these two. It's light hearted, funny and has my second OTP. it's a win-win for me)

Find Your Way Back by @willhavetheirtrinkets (Musyc) (I will forever rec this story to everyone)

Pound of Flesh by @pennilynnovus (HELLO STRIPPER DRACO! This one tore my heart out, I love it!)

Honestly, the list can go on and on and on. There are just SO many good ones out there that I haven't mentioned yet, but I wanted to list only a few that I will always go back and re-read. Also, just because I haven't mentioned the ones that we keep seeing everywhere, doesn't mean I didn't enjoy them or loved them!

What fic gave you the most feels? Definitely “Risk Reward Ratio.” It gave me SO much feels. Some were good, and some were pretty bad. It took me on a wild roller coaster ride. I was happy, sad, angry, happy, sad, angry. I laughed hard in some places, I cried even harder in others, I wanted to pull my hair out MOST of the time, and some parts were oh so good the butterflies wouldn't settle the fuck down. But ehh I like what I like, and I'm unapologetic about it. :D

Who is your favorite side character from any Dramione fic? This one is easy! Theo-fucking-Nott! Without a shadow of a doubt. You want to make him the most awesome sidekick character, go right ahead. The best bro, be my guest. The one that has secret feelings for Hermione? GIVE ME THAT TRIAD!!!!! You dare to make him evil? FUCK YES! I'm SO here for it. Even if he is one, I will STILL love him. I always get slightly giddy when Theo makes an appearance, and I tend to enjoy the story that much more. He's an interesting character to me because he's ambiguous. Canon never gave us much about his personality and reading how everyone interprets him makes him one the most versatile characters in my humble opinion. :D

Last question: Do you really like kiwis?? Hahaha!!!! Yes, I really do. This name was given to me by the people who were worried I had a mild obsession with kiwis. You don't have to ask me what I need from the store, because my answer would always be “we've run out of kiwis, BRING ME SOME MORE.” However, let me just make it clear that I'm not a heathen and I don't eat them with their skin on (no judgment if you do).

Thank you so much, Kiwi, for sharing with us! The Dramione community is lucky to have you <3

Don’t forget, sign ups for the Dramione Comment Fest close February 6, 2021. Check out the rules here and sign up for the fest here.

#dramione comment fest #dramione #dramione fanfic #dramione fest #reader profile #we heart readers #kiwi is the best #we heart kiwi #dramione fanfic recommendations

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osakasshitpit · 3 years

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I love Final Fantasy XIV

So I’ve been playing Final Fantasy XIV, and after playing for around 180 hours, I haven’t even finished A Realm Reborn. Normally, 180 hours is an insane time frame for a game to manage and hold my attention. Persona 5 Royal was 180 hours of game time, and that was slowly outstaying its welcome. FFXIV must be doing something right, because just recently I went to a convention and bought a Y’shtola Keychain in a heartbeat. I haven’t had time to play XIV a lot prior to this, since I was stupidly grinding Praetorium for days and got burned out. I haven’t played much in 2 months, and Y’shtola only really has a minor role during A Realm Reborn’s Storyline. Despite that, I started in Limsa and Y’shtola stuck with me since then. I just had to buy that keychain. My girlfriend asked me about it and despite me staying away from the game after being burned out, I explained to her in great enthusiasm why I loved Y’shtola and why I loved the game so much. I think that’s the first time I really realized how attached I was to this world, these characters, this game.

I came to FFXIV after having played WoW from Vanilla through WotLK, after having barely ever touched a MMO since quitting WoW. Honestly, I was very skeptical of XIV but holy fucking shit did it ever win me over. They are completely different games, mind you, but that is a good thing in my opinion.

So here is the longest tumblr rant post I have written so far, I think.

To be fair, the first 20 levels or so were kinda slow. You get thrown into the deep end and get bombarded with lore and characters, terms and phrases that you don't understand. For fucks sake, the opening cutscene shows Louisoix fighting Bahamut front and center. Its this big, epic moment of sacrifice, but to someone who has not played 1.0 and who doesn't know anything about the lore, this just zips right past you. During the main story of ARR, they keep talking about Louisoix and how important he is, but you haven't even seen the guy because he died before the game even started. I only really realized this today, it took me 180 hours and a look at the wiki to connect the dots. It really is a slow burn, but that slow burn was okay because everything else was so fantastic.

While the world can arguably be more subdued than Azeroth in parts, there is still this distinctive style that I quickly fell in love with. It’s fantastical, but it still feels grounded. Part of that has to do with how the game introduces you to the world, and how the main story quests explain to you the lore bit by bit. I feel like much of the world design of WoW was down to “the rule of cool”. Now, I’m not saying XIV doesn’t have that, but I feel like XIV always goes the extra mile to explain why this cool shit is here. Everything you see out there in the world feels like it has a purpose, a reason to be there and an explanation on how it works. The factions make sense, the political conflicts you get entangled in are believable. I feel like I am kind of biased to be honest. What got me to play FFXIV in the first place was seeing that Viera are a playable race. I’m a sucker for Final Fantasy, not in short part to my memories of Playing Final Fantasy Tactics and XII. XII is still my favorite game in the series, and much of that has to do with the world, Ivalice. Viera were always my favorite race of the ones seen in Ivalice. Seeing as you can play a Viera in XIV, I just had to try. Thinking about it, XII and XIV have a lot in common when it comes to world building.

One of the weirdest things to acclimate for me was how FFXIV handles story. I was used to WoW, where story was basically non-existent and you did what you did to see numbers rise and to unlock now content you could do. You are basically never involved in the story of WoW, you are just kind of there for the ride. In FFXIV, you are the main character. You are involved in what happens at all times, and that is kinda strange coming from WoW. At first I thought I wouldn’t like it, but the game made it work in my opinion. I also didn’t expect there to be so much of story to begin with. Kind of ironically the moment I realized just how much there was to experience was when I went through Ul’dah and saw a blue quest. Now, blue quest markers mean there is some content you can unlock by doing this quest. A lot of these are kinda short, with a bit of dialogue and some bits of lore for you to enjoy and I thought this one would be no difference. After all, the hook is basically just to help this lady mourn for the death of a friend. What I got was a fabulous detective adventure that spanned over the entire continent, where in I had to help the worlds most manly detective uncover the secret behind a mysterious phantom thief. To say the least, this 21 quest long quest line brought be hours upon hours of joy and had me in stitches throughout. And it was completely optional. I don’t think I even remember a single moment from any quest in WoW that made me this excited for it, optional or otherwise.

Ultimately these are very different games that try very different things.

Dungeons and Raids were a different thing. I remember when I rolled a new character for WotLK and wanted to do karazhan because I used to like doing that raid with my guild back in TBC. I could not for the live of me find a group willing to do it, because everyone was way more focused on the new content, so they could get better gear. Regardless, it just wouldn’t have been the same experience anyways I fear, because the new gear from the new Dungeons outclassed the raid gear from TBC, so karazhan would be way easier and a much different experience. In FFXIV, every dungeon is level synced by default, meaning if a higher level character joins, they get basically downgraded to the level the dungeon was designed for. Couple that with the Duty Roulette feature and suddenly, there was always someone to do any given dungeon with. I remember when I had to do the crystal tower raids and thought “why would they tie main story progression to a raid, I will never find a group to do that properly” but low and behold, I found a group within 30 minutes or less and raided through the entire set of raids within a day. Dungeons and Raids are generally a very pick up and play thing in FFXIV. To be fair, dungeons got easier and more pick up and play in WoW too, but Raids were always the endgame thing where you had to gear up and learn to play. In FFXIV, much more lenient. No corpse walking required. I say this, but I have yet to do the Coils of Bahamut or any Savage Raids. I have only heard that there is plenty of hardcore raid content for those who want that.

That’s nothing to say about the actual gameplay. FFXIV is a tab-target MMO, like so many others, but it manages to keep this kind of gameplay fresh by introducing a lot of mechanics that make the game more active than the typical “I stand here and hit my rotation a lot”. For starters, most enemies have special abilities that you can actually dodge by moving out of the way. There will a area marker on the floor and everyone within that area will be hit. It starts out easy, but later dungeons really start kicking your ass with this mechanic. You really need to say on your toes. In addition, every class is extremely different. They all have special mechanics unique to them, special meters and resources they will have to manage during combat and so on. For example, a Red Mage (the class I’m playing currently), has two meters that fill up as you cast spells. They generally have two types of spells, white and black magic. Each type fills its respective bar. Once they are both full enough, you can go in and do a more powerful melee rotation. However, if one bar is fuller than the other, the other bar will fill up slower. Since you need to fill both, you want to balance that out. You get instant casts for spells after performing a damaging spell, and you have some spells with a short cast time and good damage output that you want to cast and then use the instant cast of to cast a more damaging spell that has a long cast time. But these short cast, good damage spells require a you get from casting a spell of the respective type. So, in essence, you want to balance your use of black and white magic, but you also want to use the proc you get from casting your white and black magic, which means you cast more of the type which inherently unbalances your gauges. It becomes this micromanagement game you play with your procs and instant casts, so you can go in and do the big, flashy sword combo. And that’s just the red mage at around 50. Every class has something like this, and it’s all unique to them. Learning a class is not just learning the rotation and spells you have anymore, it’s really learning how to effectively play your class. Also, positioning. Some abilities do more damage from certain positions, so you will have to dance around an enemy to hit all the sweet spots with classes like monks. These complexities get introduced slowly as you level up, so you have plenty of time to learn the mechanics. My favorite feature might be the class system itself, though. In FFXIV, you aren’t limited to one class for the entire duration of your characters career. You can, from a certain point forwards, choose any class you wish and level that up instead. You can freely switch between classes outside of combat, too. If you are dedicated enough, you can level them all up to max, even. This means if you don’t like a class or the direction a class is going in, you can switch. I for my part started as an arcanist, so I unlocked Summoner at 30. I played Summoner up to 50 but I was just not meshing as well with the direction the summorer went in. So, I switched to Red Mage and after some getting used to, Its now my new favorite. Arcanists are special, because you actually unlock two classes at 30, so I also unlocked Scholars. Scholars are healers and that became my main dungeon class, since queue times are way shorter for healers. This would be unthinkable in WoW, and love the fact this is a thing here.

If I had to describe it, WoW is an MMO with RPG Elements, while FFXIV is a JRPG with MMO elements. I didn’t know I needed that, but in retrospect, it makes sense. The thing that really killed my progress in WoW was that I didn’t have anyone to play with anymore. My friends all dropped from the game and while I generally like doing solo content from time to time, I’m pretty introverted, after all... MMORPGs are usually most fun with friends. Final Fantasy XIV is a JRPG first, an MMO second. There is so much to keep your attention as a solo player, its nuts. All my friends who play this game, play on a different data center, so I can’t even visit them. Despite that, I had a lot of fun in my time with the game.

My experience with the game was incredibly positive, and I don’t think it will get worse from here. Everyone keeps telling me how great Heavensward is. I just have to finish 16 more quests and I’ll be able to see for myself what the fuss is about.

Honestly, if I had to say anything negative, it would be how longwinded ARR is. I mean, its not bad by any means, but I can see how someone could be turned off by this huge storyblock. Worst of all is, after you hit 50 and reach the end of ARR’s story line, there are 80 quests before you can even start with Heavensward. Since everyone keeps going on about how great it is, it’s kind of annoying how long you have to work to even get to it. In retrospect, it kinda makes sense though. These quests are meant to be played over months and months throughout a update cycle and bridge the narrative gap between one storyblock and the next, but holy fucking shit why did it have to be THAT long. They even cut like 20 of the quests from this already insanely long quest line. What the fuck. This is supposed to be an epilogue to ARR and it feels like I played a whole fucking JRPG in between ARR and Heavensward. Oh well. Thankfully, they learned from this and made the post-story blocks shorter.

I will just say that I can recommend this game. You should give it a try. Just... try not to drop the game before it gets really, really good.

#Rant #final fantasy #Final fantasy XIV

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tundrainafrica · 4 years

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Hi Sav! Hope all is well! Just wanna ask, do you get writer's block once in a while? If so, how do you fight it? How do you keep yourself motivated in writing?

Omg, thank you for the ask.

I’m honestly surprised people are pretty interested in my writing habits because I guess no one in real life actually knows me as a writer so nobody really asks about this. But yeah, the good news is I do have a set way of how I go about writing so this is a pretty easy ask to navigate.

So to answer your questions...

Just wanna ask, do you get writer's block once in a while?

Yes. I get it all the time. Writing the first few words of the next chapters of my fics or writing the first words of the fic given a prompt is always painful.

If so, how do you fight it?

I actually have some concrete ways which help me keep my head moving so I’ll drop these here. I can’t say it works for everyone but yeah, it might help people I guess?

I write things which I wish would happen no matter how much it doesn’t make any sense.

That’s why when I’m writing a fic, I never start at the start or what I believe the first words will be. I have a document and I write skeletons of dialogues which I want to show up, I write scenes and interactions that I want to happen.

All of my fics started from badly written notes. Most of them usually get deleted once the fic is done so I had to unearth these. I’ll drop a sample here of my shitty notes from fics I’ve been working on and some I actually finished. You might recognize some of the prompts from fics I’ve finished already

Canon fixit: fic where Hänge pulls Levi out of the water again, helps him wake up from his coma of Levi, the world just goes back to normal. Hange figures out her feelings for Levi, lives her cottage core life waiting for Levi to wake up and Levi discuss feelings for each other. reads romeo and Juliet ( is that us?) romeo and Juliet, gets a dream did it hurt?

Rekindle: sad songs more varied than happy songs, Levi saves Hänge drowning, works multiple jobs to make ends meet

Levihanzeke love triangle Hange is a lawyer, Levi is an illegitimate child convicted criminal in a Ponzi scheme, that's the thing about rich kids, Mikasa agrees with him, tries to save him by feeding information Philosophy Other prompts

Soulmates AU but a love child can be born from the love of someone else. Udo is the one who knows that Levijan are together, he goes with Gaby with them to Paradis and he tells them he knows them makes Levi and Hänge analyze their relationship

Lifetime: Levi takes up painting after the war.

Sometimes, I have interactions written out

And it becomes a matter of getting the kinks fixed and the ropes tied together.

Like this one dialogue...

“So, Levi Ackerman and Hange Zoe…” The teacher started as she looked through what could have been her list of names. With the way she was holding it, Levi had found it difficult to sneak a peek at what’s inside. “Commander Hange Zoe and Retired Captain Levi Ackerman…” The teacher corrected, clearing her throat at that.

“Yes, but no need for pleasantries. I mean you have been taking care of our son…” Hange spoke up and held one hand out for a hand shake, obviously trying to ease the tension in the room, or at the least the discomfort in the teacher’s face.

“ according to your son... Shitty four eyes… and Clean freak?”

Or this one...

“Prophylactic… Contraceptive…” Hange read aloud the more unfamiliar words as she turned the box around on her fingertips. She had hoped saying them aloud with ring some bells for her researcher mind. That small effort though turned out to be futile. I should ask Kiyomi about this when she gets back. She thought to herself.

“Never heard those words before,” Levi commented from his own table next to her. He always did keep her company after hours taking on some of the paperwork or reading through records and documentation on communications and deliveries that only rapidly multiplied with every passing day since the building of the port.

“Me neither,” Hange said. She sighed and rested her cheek on her hand as she looked out the window.

And...

The thinking process is, once I have a point A and a point B. Once I have all the dots I want written, connecting the dots becomes a bit more straightforward. I think the harder part really is figuring out the ‘dots’. That’s why I would recommend, once you feel like you wanna write something out, no matter how ugly it is, just get it written on your phone, even if it’s as messy as the notes above, or even if it’s just a dialogue skeleton.

And here’s the thing, I really believe that once you have a point A and a point B, there is a line that will always exist, regardless of how different point A and point B are. It’s just difficult to see from the start.

And yeah, I think this is where writer’s block comes for most people. Because sometimes we can’t find the logical way to connect the two.

So this is where my own concrete methods of fixing that comes in. (I’m sure it wouldn’t work for everyone but it might be worth a try for some people so I’ll leave it here.)

Find a hobby that follows a ‘connect the dots’ thinking process and before you write, do it.

When I get writer’s block, I like to do things in real life where I am reminded that even the weirdest things can easily be connected, or I like doing things that require deep thought and organization and that require good ideas on the fly. I play strategy games like chess or mahjong.

This probably won’t make sense for a lot of people but for the people who does, having a game with set a smaller set of rules than writing yet still requires lots of innovative thinking and organizational thinking, helps keep my head moving in a smaller space, so it’s a good warm up. So when I go back to writing and I look at the point A and the point B again, I’m more easily able to see how I want it to connect. Because chess and mahjong are games where we are given set pieces and we have to find a way to make it connect given our environment and circumstances.

If not chess or mahjong, and if you’re particularly musical, I found that just experimenting on an instrument when dealing with writer’s block actually works. I play the piano, and something which follows the same process as connecting the dots for me, is to open the lyrics of a song, look at a chords and just play the chords on the piano then just play around with the melody and the broken chords. The chords act like that ‘enclosed environment’ and the tinkering I do on the piano act like that ‘innovative thinking’ which gets my head moving.

Music: I go on walks and listen to my spotify on shuffle until a song comes out which I think resonates with the story. And then I listen to it again and again and again until I complete the fic. This is how I’m able to make that line from point A to point B more complete, and this is how I manage to channel my emotions into the writing.

Research: All fics will require some sort of research, especially when you’re writing something more complex. So when I’m going into some particular writer’s block, if it’s a history AU, I read history and watch documentaries. If I’m writing hc, I like to read medical journals. If I need to incorporate some sort of a science law into my fics, I read scientific journals (don’t read the whole thing lmao, the abstract usually works), When particularly writing a scene which requires in depth thought about a certain field or occupation, I talk to someone who has that occupation. I know this sounds totally weird to do over a fanfiction so I just don’t mention it’s fanfiction and just ask. I mean asking people about their job is generally an incredibly normal conversation starter.

How do you keep yourself motivated in writing?

Okay, so there’s one thing I need to point out here, if the pandemic didn’t happen, if I didn’t get laid off in my first job and if I didn’t drop law school for the year, I probably wouldn’t be here writing haha.

Like right now, when I’m stuck in the house 24/7, reading and writing is my only outlet and my only hobby outside my job. I can’t travel. I can’t see friends. I can’t see family. The skating rink is closed. The gyms are closed. Anything which is remotely seen as fun is closed.

So writing has been incredibly comforting in helping me process my emotions.

But I recognize the fact that starting a fic will always be hard especially if people don’t know what to do. So people tend to put it off, and this habit usually extends to work or studies too I’m guessing. I mean I’ve worked in enough groupworks to know that people like to wait for that sense of urgency before they do anything.

‘Motivation’ is such a fleeting thing that I don’t think anybody should be relying on that to get something moving. I think it’s pretty much discipline more than anything that gets people moving. So how do I avoid procrastination or that feeling where ‘just thinking about it makes me freeze so I don’t do it.

I just do it. But it isn’t as easy as that right?

I have this concept of a future self. Like a future me I do not wanna disappoint and I trust that future self when she says ‘ you will not regret doing this.’ So even if the writing process is hard the first few pages, I’m able to write because even if it is painful, I know that in between and actually finishing up those pages isn’t. I’m sure people who have finished a fic know, there is an in between where you aren’t thinking too much about the actual process, you’re just writing. And the painful part is just getting to that trance.

And in the end, you’re just like ‘I’m glad I wrote that.’

But that trance is liberating and it reminds me why the hell I’m doing all this in the first place. And I’m sure this isn’t limited to writing. Any hobby people pursue, working out, staying up all night to get homework done, I’m sure we all experience an in between or maybe some feeling after which makes us realize that it is worth it. It’s a matter of just trusting our future self to actually be grateful we did it.

I know it’s easier said than done but I guess it helps at least to build the habit and the mindset so I’ve dropped some concrete ways it helps me.

#fanfic #drabble #writing

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demaury · 4 years

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open your heart (and let me know you want me here)

9k / friends to lovers / ao3 link

Here is the thing. When he started making that list, he was never planning on his best friend checking pretty much all the boxes right off the bat.

or; a childhood friends to lovers au

1- Someone who makes me feel something. Butterflies and fireworks and all that shit.

He’s fifteen when it happens, and as most things it doesn’t look like much of a big deal at first. It’s a Wednesday afternoon, and although it should be a regular one like so many others, there’s something unique in the fact that he’s sitting on the navy-blue carpeted floor of his bedroom, trying to figure out a math problem, while Eliott is humming to himself and scrolling down his phone on his bed. The setting isn’t what makes it all new, and much less Eliott’s presence — he’s actually one of the very few constants of his life, ever since the Demaurys moved across the street about a million years ago.

What makes it all new, scary, a bit foreign, is that it’s the first time they hang out, since he told Eliott he liked boys. Which- Okay, coming out to Eliott was really not the problem, really, it never was. He wasn’t… He wasn’t scared that Eliott would take it the wrong way, you know, he wasn’t scared that all of a sudden Eliott would start looking back at him with disgust, that’s not what it was about. He just… He just didn’t know how to word it out. When would be the right time, and if there would ever be one — but turns out there had been one. About a week ago, he and Eliott had been texting late at night, and when the conversation had drifted onto Lucille, more specifically Eliott’s lifelong crush on her — it’s not quite the truth, but two years feel a lot like two lifetimes when you think about it —, Eliott had jokingly suggested that Lucas should get himself someone too so they could go on double dates, once she finally agrees to acknowledge him.

(He doesn’t know why it’s taking her so long, and if he’s being honest, he’s a bit prejudiced against her because of this exact reason.)

Naturally, because old habits die hard, his first instinct had been to deflect. I’m not 45 yet, double dates sound boring as fuck, he almost wrote back, but at the last second he had erased all the words and went for Pretty sure I wouldn’t need you to make a fool of myself in front of my very hypothetical boyfriend instead. There had been a few agonizing minutes spent staring at the ceiling after that, phone turned screen down onto his mattress, while he nervously chewed onto his bottom lip with his stomach in knots; in the meantime, Eliott had flooded their conversation with offended texts, because ‘oh, so you just think you can keep me away from him??? That’s sweet’, and just like that, Lucas had felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Eliott asks excitedly, jumping in a sitting position so fast it makes the bedsprings creaks loudly, and Lucas hums in response, still frowning at his math problem without bothering to look back. He loves Eliott, he really does, but that boy has about a million things crossing his mind at all times of the day (and night), so he’s long given up on the idea of giving him his undivided attention every single time something like this happens. “What would you want him to look like?”

Lucas’ hands hover over his equation result for a moment as he blankly stares at his page in confusion, but then he throws a look above his shoulder, and he finds Eliott expectantly looking at him. “What? Who?”

“Your hypothetical boyfriend,” Eliott supplies, his smile widening when Lucas huffs and shakes his head.

“Don’t you think I have better things to think about right now?”, he groans, his attention drifting back onto his homework. He feels like he’s been twisting his brain over this for hours, and it’s not like he can possibly ask Eliott anything on the matter, because he may be two years older, when it comes to math he’s about as useless as a glass hammer.

“Better than thinking about the man of your dreams?”, Eliott gasps, and Lucas is about to tell him that this is all becoming extra cheesy for something that has no actual basis whatsoever when he adds: “You can’t find him if you don’t have an idea of what you’re looking for.”

“Because he’s going to suddenly show up, out of nowhere, just because I started picturing… I don’t know, some abs and a vaguely undefined hair color?”, Lucas snorts. He doesn’t make a habit of asking Eliott to be serious, because well, it’s Eliott, he’s got his head in the clouds a fair share of the time, but, like, come on.

But instead of picking his phone back up and moving onto another topic, one that doesn’t require Lucas’ participation at the very least, Eliott lets out an appreciative noise. “So you are picturing something, good start. Abs and… what’s the hair color again?”

Naturally, Lucas ends up smacking Eliott with his textbook — or at least trying to, because despite Eliott professing a lifelong hatred of sports of most, if not all kinds, he’s surprisingly quick and agile like a giant cat —, and, eventually, his idiot best friend agrees to leave it at that. Which would have been terrific, really, if his brain had agreed to do the same.

But later, much later, when it’s already dark outside and Eliott has been gone for hours, he finds himself thinking about it — that stupid, stupid idea. He can’t help but wonder, what if he’s right? What if he never finds anyone because he just doesn’t know what he’s looking for? Eliott has been crushing on Lucille for two years, but Lucas can’t even remember ever crushing on anyone. There’s never been anyone who made his stomach flutter, who made his mind go blank, who made his thoughts swirl around. There’s never been anyone who made his knees go weak, or turned his stomach to mush.

And maybe, as he keeps thinking about all the feelings everyone always talks about that he never got to experience, maybe that’s when he starts making it — maybe a couple of yearning thoughts are already the beginning of a list.

9- Someone who gives a shit

“How do they fit?” Eliott shouts from behind the bathroom door, and before Lucas has the time to reply he immediately adds, speech rate quickening like the words are tumbling down from his lips: “Because I’m pretty sure I can find something else.”

Lucas throws a glance at his sad reflection in the mirror, catching sight of the tee-shirt falling down mid-thighs and the shorts reaching below his knees; clearly not his best look, he thinks halfheartedly, flattening a couple of strands sticking up at weird angles at the back of his head. It’s only because he doesn’t want his best friend to take the door down that he ends up unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom.

“It’s fine, that will do,” Lucas mumbles, because honestly, he’s already crashing at the Demaurys’, it’s not like he can afford to be picky at the moment.

Eliott is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, and he gives him a sympathetic look — warm and gentle, honey-like in sweetness if not in color. “Good,” he nods, a nice smile stretching out on his lips as he slips into his bedroom.

Lucas follows him, shutting the door behind himself. Eliott vaguely smooths his comforter before climbing onto his bed. “What do you want to watch?”

Lucas twists his mouth a little, and for a moment he feels a bit lost without quite being able to tell why. He’s standing in this room he knows by heart, but still, it feels weird and alien. He uncomfortably rubs an invisible spot on his arm as he tries to process what’s different about it all. They’ve done that hundreds of times, he’s spent some of the best afternoons of his childhood and teenage years in Eliott’s house, in Eliott’s bedroom even, but…

But he’s never done that.

He’s never slammed the door after one too many fights and straight-up imposed himself at the Demaurys’, and judging by Eliott’s demeanor ever since he showed up, soaked wet from the rain outside, he knows he feels it too — it’s weird. It’s different. It’s not the usual excitement floating in the air.

“I don’t really feel like watching anything right now,” he confesses, fiddling with the hem of Eliott’s way-too-long tee-shirt. He’s just tired, he’s heard so much yelling today it’s like his ears are ringing.

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s fine,” Eliott says quickly. He pats the spot next to him until Lucas caves and joins him. “I just thought you might… I don’t know, like a distraction.”

“Being here is enough, don’t worry,” he says, maneuvering himself on the mattress before folding his legs against his chest, and honestly, he wishes that were true, he really does.

Because Eliott is Eliott, and he really doesn’t want his friend to feel bad about him any more than he already does — so Lucas does as he usually tries to do. He tries to shove it all as far down as possible, in the smallest corner of his brain, where it doesn’t hurt as much. He tries not to think about the fact that tomorrow is another day, that eventually he will have to come back home, and how much he doesn’t want that. He tries not to think that Eliott’s tee-shirt feels soft against his skin, and that even if it’s the weirdest sleepover they’ve ever had, even if something feels off, he still feels a thousand times better here than he does at home.

Eliott crosses his legs, and leans forward to reach for a pair of earbuds on his nightstand. “How about some music? You can choose whatever you want.”

Lucas’ eyes travel a few times between Eliott’s eyes and the earbud that is offered to him, and he picks up with a small huff. “Alright, okay.”

Eliott makes a small, content sound, like it makes him genuinely happy to spend the night with his grumpy self, listening to songs that aren’t even remotely close to his personal taste — and maybe Lucas goes along with it. Maybe he’s selfish like that, but this one night, he just gets along with it. He lets soft piano music soothe his mood a bit, slowly lulling him into sleep until his head gets too heavy and he has to drag himself to the guest mattress that has been set up for him like so many times before.

Crossing the street to go back home, that too he’s done a million times, but not often with that weird gut-feeling of walking right into a no man’s land. His dad’s car is nowhere to be seen, and the silence is deafening as he pads through the silent house. He shuffles upstairs to change before school, going about his morning routine with a weird tension lodged between his shoulder blades, his head too full of thoughts, and he’s shoving a biology textbook into his backpack when he sees it. It’s a DVD — Ratatouille. It’s, embarrassingly enough, one of those movies he could watch over and over again without ever tiring of it, and obviously Eliott knows, obviously, because they’ve watched it so many times since they were kids, and who else would have put it in there?

His mouth twists into half a smile when he picks up the DVD, a bright yellow sticky note on the front of the box. Everything is always better on Blu-ray, I promise ✳

11- Someone who fucking sticks around and doesn’t leave when things go to shit

A Blu-ray isn’t enough to make it all better, as it turns out, but Lucas surely appreciates Eliott’s gesture for what it is, and all those that follow later, when his family situation goes from bad to worse to terrible. He’s never made a habit of setting a stupid list of resolutions with every new year, but this time, and this time only, he’s resolved to stop thinking about that fucking new year. At best he’s allowing himself to laugh it off. Divorced parents? Funny as hell. Mom in a psychiatric ward? Hilarious. Family house on sale? Hysterical. They’re cruising around the near-empty supermarket, aimlessly going from one aisle to the next as Lucas picks up random stuff to drop them into the cart Eliott is pushing. It’s another Wednesday, it’s lunchtime, and he knows there’s nothing to eat at home, because there’s been no one to go grocery shopping for him.

“So what are you guys planning for tomorrow?”, he asks distractedly.

Just because he’s single doesn’t mean he’s clueless about the ways of those who aren’t — and he knows that tomorrow night is a big deal for Eliott, long before they even take left and stumble onto a sea of sugary pink and velvety red. An aisle has been pushed to the side at the center of the store to clear some more space for Valentine’s Day displays. The racks are filled with chocolates of all kinds and flavors, heart-wearing Teddy Bears, gifts, cards and even plastic flowers, but Eliott doesn’t really seem to pay attention to anything. Which, in itself, isn’t that surprising. He’s been dating Lucille for three months now, ever since they got paired together for some oral presentation at school and that it finally opened her eyes at how wonderful Eliott is, so Lucas doesn’t really expect his best friend to go for the first generic box of chocolates he finds.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Eliott says evasively, following Lucas when he walks past the Valentine’s Day area. “We haven’t talked about it much yet.”

Lucas hums. “It’s your first Valentine’s Day,” he points out distractedly, eyes skimming over various cereal brands, and he ends up reaching for a Crunch box that he drops into the cart, “I’d have expected you to buy balloons and a giant Teddy Bear or something.” Or simply to show up at Lucille’s window with a boombox, he almost adds, but he keeps it in just in time. Eliott doesn’t need any bad idea of that kind. Judging by his musical taste, it’s frankly better for everyone, starting with Lucille’s parents’ neighbors.

He hears Eliott toying with the shopping cart chain. “Luce’s kinda busy. Her parents are on her case with the BAC and all,” he says, and Lucas gives him a look, from his spot at the end of the aisle, that makes Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up innocently. “What?”

“Why are you lying?”, Lucas asks, squinting his eyes a little.

Eliott scoffs, but it comes out wrong — off-key. “I’m not lying.”

He’s definitely lying, Lucas thinks bluntly, and he rolls his eyes to himself. His best friend is so painfully transparent that he should probably be grateful about it, he should probably be happy that he’s able to read him like an open book, but instead he hates that Eliott doesn’t seem to have any clue when it comes down to it — it makes it even more annoying whenever he tries to lie to his face. “You are,” he retorts with a pointed stare. “What’s up? I thought you’d be over the moon or something.”

Eliott squirms behind the cart, his hands awkwardly drumming along the handle. “Oh, no I am, truly,” he says quickly, “I just thought we could… I don’t know, maybe go watch a movie or something. You and I.”

And there we go, Lucas thinks, and it’s like a weight is dropped onto his shoulders, making them slump with an inaudible woosh. There’s a pang inside his chest, and it’s not a big one, it’s not a breath-altering one, not those that make you want to curl into a ball and cry, it’s just the kind of sting that reminds you of a sore spot. A bruise still a little tender, a scar still noticeable.

“Are you asking me out, Demaury?” he snickers, trying to deflect the sudden change in the atmosphere, but he already knows it’s useless because he can’t be the only one going for it — they both have to play the same game, and he already knows Eliott isn’t willing to.

“I just think you might want some company,” Eliott says with a nice smile, and although Lucas loves that smile, he really does, this time it just doesn’t work.

“I’m fine,” he replies briskly, and he pulls sharply at the end of the shopping cart to move it forward. It’s a petty gesture that seems to startle Eliott, and he immediately feels bad about it. “Your girlfriend doesn’t need you to worry about me, she needs you to fuss over her.”

“But I-”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eventually Eliott nods, muttering a small ‘right’, and Lucas has to pretend he doesn’t want to rush out of here, lunch be damned. He hates it, he hates when Eliott is like this, and hates even more that it’s because of him. They walk through the store for a few more minutes, mostly in silence, only occasionally making a small comment or two about things they see on their way to the cash registers. Eliott starts filling the reusable shopping bags Lucas retrieves from his backpack while he pays a ridiculous amount of money for his purchases, and then they’re off.

“Hey,” Lucas mumbles pitifully as they reach the bus stop at the end of the parking lot. “I… I’m sorry if I was rude. I really appreciate what you do for me, everything, it’s just… I’m just trying to hold it together.” He looks away, tracing a weird line in the concrete from the tip of his shoe to avoid Eliott’s eyes.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t be pushy,” Eliott says, and there’s the faint trace of a smile in his voice. He leans down to squeeze the shopping bag he’s holding between his feet. “But I want you to know I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere, so whenever you feel like talking… I’m here.”

It takes Lucas a few seconds to look up, and there’s something so soft and gentle into Eliott’s expression that it makes something melt into his chest almost instantly. He finds himself mirroring Eliott’s smile, albeit lamely — not quite as beautiful, not quite as warm, not quite as reassuring. He finds himself thinking about what Eliott just said for a while, as they hop into the bus and make their way home one stop after the other. He's not going to accept his offer for Valentine's Day, because if anyone deserves to be taken care of on that special day, it's Eliott's girlfriend. But still. Maybe, someday, he can manage to find someone who just doesn't leave.

15- Someone who feels like home

It’s a long while before he thinks about the list again — he doesn’t even know where it is, but he guesses moving abroad for a semester tends to do that to you. He’s in his second year of uni when he jumps on the Erasmus offer, and between paperwork and packing up and unpacking and settling down and trying to, maybe, eventually, meet some new people to make the next three months of his life somewhat relevant on a human level, he doesn’t have much time to think about whether or not he’s going to meet the man of his dreams at the next street corner, much less whether or not he checks an inordinate amount of criteria.

Frankly, it’s not that big of a deal. Lucas has never been excessively hopeful about it in the first place, so he can’t really say it’s something that requires a lot of self-discipline. Occasionally Eliott brings it up over text or FaceTime, because he’s an idiot like that, and he’s his best friend, so of course he considers it his double duty to bring up that kind of corny, embarrassing prospect.

“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute in a way,” Lucas says one day, roughly two weeks after landing in Oslo, about some guy he’s met at a party. He’s dutifully sent Eliott his Instagram handle for approval, and for the past few minutes they’ve been going through his publications over FaceTime, like they’re back in Lucas’ old bedroom, with Eliott on his bed and Lucas sitting on the floor.

“He looks fifteen,” Eliott replies unhelpfully, snickering a little. “Didn’t know it was a turn-on of yours. Did that one make the cut?”

“Shut up,” Lucas scoffs, and he regrets not being able to send something in Eliott’s face in retaliation. Besides, he looks barely his age himself, it’s not like he’s in a position to comment about someone else’s appearance — something Eliott promptly dismisses as soon as Lucas points it out, because ‘Lucas, don’t expect me to tell you you’re not ridiculously attractive’, and he’s vain enough to take the compliment without arguing.

After that, well, he goes back to not thinking about it.

Final terms are rolling around and he crams for it, and before he can even catch a breath, it’s already the end of the semester and Christmas is right at the corner. He lands back in France three days before Christmas Eve, and of course he crashes at Eliott’s, because he hasn’t spoken to his father in nearly four months and a half, so it’s not like he even has options to choose from — but he has to admit, it feels nice, knowing he’s going somewhere he’s wanted. Eliott has been buzzing over it for weeks now, making plans for movie nights and places to go and people to see, so much that Lucas almost forgot to be sad about leaving Oslo.

“I’m so fucking happy to have you back,” Eliott says excitedly, voice a little too loud in the narrow stairwell leading up to his third-floor one-bedroom flat, and he’s so eager that he ends up bumping Lucas’ suitcase a couple of times between the stairs, the wall and the banister.

“Jeez, calm down,” Lucas huffs, “the whole neighborhood doesn’t have to know I’m here, thanks.”

Eliott opens the door of his flat with a nudge from his shoulder, not looking even remotely sorry. “Well, that’s just the beginning if we get a place together,” he singsongs, and Lucas shakes his head a little — but deep down, he loves it. His cheeks are hurting from smiling, and he feels his shoulders relax instantly as soon as he crosses the threshold. Nothing has changed since he left last summer. Not that he expected it to, but it’s always nice. In the small, cramped living room, Eliott has already prepared a pillow and a comforter, carefully folded to the side of the couch, and it’s not even that late (not even 10), and the flight wasn’t even long (not even three hours), but Lucas already feels very compelled into dropping himself there and wrapping himself into the blanket — so he does just that. He quickly nibbles on a leftover sandwich he bought at the airport in Oslo, while Eliott excitedly rambles about some renting options he’s seen here and there, and then he quickly sets up his bed.

His best friend is sweet enough not to make fun of him for it, and when he flips off the light on his way out of the living room with a cheerful ‘sweet dreams’, Lucas doesn’t think, for one second, he can love him more than that.

“How about this?” Eliott grins triumphantly as he turns the lion plushie he had growing up in his direction. Lucas isn’t sure, but he thinks it might have been supposed to look like Simba, before he proceeded to drag it everywhere with him until the color irrevocably turned a dirty mix of greenish-yellow and grey. “Don’t you miss him?”

Lucas huffs, shaking his head, and he turns back to busy himself with a heavy storage box filled with what looks like bedsheets and drapes of various kinds. “I’m way past needing plushies, thanks,” he snorts, reaching for the plastic lid of the box to replace it in its dusty corner.

They’ve been here for about twenty minutes, in the storage unit where most of his and his mom’s stuff are neatly piled up in, and although he initially thought that this would be easy, because ‘C’mon, it’s just a storage unit, it’s not Versailles in there’, turns out there are lots and lots of things to search through. He doesn’t regret bringing Eliott along, to be honest; it takes at least two to make their way around all the stuff, and at least Eliott can reach the upper shelves. At first they had started renting the unit to store his mom’s things away after the divorce, but when Lucas moved to Norway, he couldn’t afford to pay both the student lodging and rent at his old flatshare simultaneously, so he was forced to give up his spot over there and to store his things here in the meantime.

“Have you no heart?” Eliott gasps, and when Lucas turns back, he’s pouting as he gives the plushie a sad look. “We’re definitely watching Toy Story tonight.”

Lucas rolls his eyes fondly with a scoff, and eventually, after another moment of staring, Eliott agrees to put the lion back into whatever cardboard or plastic box he found it and to move the fuck on. In the meantime, Lucas moves over to another stash of smaller plastic boxes, still looking for the clothes he left behind before Oslo, but it’s not long before Eliott makes another sound, that has Lucas’ head whipping around.

“Hey, remember this game?” he asks, grinning as he waves a version of Risk. “God I miss that old peasant woman who told us off whenever we would be beating up people.”

“Dark Eliott was really a formative experience, but don’t ever end up on the wrong side of the tracks, thanks,” Lucas snickers in his corner, taking the lid off one of the boxes before he starts rummaging through its content. There’s a bit of everything in there, from old assignments to a snapback, pictures, a couple of textbooks, and as he keeps digging through it all, Eliott huffs something he doesn’t quite catch.

It’s during that overall quiet and regular afternoon that the list makes its comeback into Lucas’ life, after months of barely giving it a thought, and maybe at least a year of not adding another entry; it slips out from an old Annabac textbook when he picks it up from the box. The fold is a little wrong and the corner slightly crumpled, and for a second he contemplates just shoving it back at the bottom box, because he’s really not in the mood to entertain that kind of ridiculously hopeful thoughts for a better future or whatever, but in the end there’s a weird kind of curiosity that pushes him to open it.

Just a quick look, he thinks, discreetly peering above his shoulder to find Eliott busy in the opposite corner. The list has a total of 54 entries, ranking from thoughtful to shallow to frankly depressing at times. A wry smile shows up on his lips at entry #4: he gotta be tall because I’m not spending my life climbing ladders to change light bulbs. Or even better, the entry #9: someone who makes me laugh so hard I cry — it has something terribly soft to it, almost… pure.

The entry #29 is entirely Eliott’s fault, he knows it right off the bat: not too many tattoos thanks. It’s crossed, because shortly afterwards Eliott got his first tattoo for some obscure reason, and despite Lucas’ adamant protests, his best friend insisted that he accompanied him to the parlor for the big day — and then he got another tattoo, and another, and after some time Lucas was forced to realize that… okay maybe tattoos were okay.

The rest of the entries are sometimes awfully precise (#34 ‘light eyes????? Fuck yes?????’ and #41 ‘abs. abs. abs.’), or completely vague (#29 Fucking consistent). And then there’s entry #50. One of the last entries, that he probably wrote towards the end of high school or during his first year of uni, during a lonely evening at the flatshare — a very graphic description of what he’d want his imaginary boyfriend to do to him, which he had written after watching some porn locked up in his bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

Eliott’s voice sounds so close that Lucas startles guiltily, snapping the list down against his chest in the textbook definition of caught red-handed. Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up as they make eye-contact, and Lucas tries to ignore the way his cheeks heat up. “I- uh- nothing,” he croaks out. “Just going through old stuff.”

There’s a glint in Eliott’s eyes, like he knows, like he can read through his fucking mind — like he too just read that entry #50. Stop fucking spiraling, he doesn’t know shit, he admonishes himself. The only thing he knows is that Lucas is acting like a teenager caught looking at porn.

“What?”, he asks, trying to find back his composure.

Eliott shrugs, with that annoying little smirk on his ridiculously pretty face. “Nothing,” he says, voice drawling a little, but he’s motioning next to Lucas to busy himself with the upper shelves in Lucas’ direct vicinity, and he knows his best friend is being annoying on purpose.

Lucas squints at him from the corner of his eyes. Seemingly unbothered, Eliott stands onto his tiptoes, arms extended at their maximum capacity to reach for a big, dusty cardboard box almost touching the ceiling, and his tee-shirt is riding high and showing the smallest trace of his rib tattoo curling down his side, and that’s when it creeps onto Lucas, at the worst, most inopportune moment. His eyes travel back and forth between Eliott and the list a couple of times, and despite his best efforts to keep calm, Lucas’ stomach starts doing a weird somersault.

Oh no.

Here is the thing.

When he started making that list, he was never planning on his best friend checking pretty much all the boxes right off the bat. That couldn’t have been farther away from what he had in mind, he’s pretty fucking sure of it. And yet here he is. He’s slipped the list into the front pocket of his hoodie before they left the storage unit, and then he took it out to shove it in his laptop bag, where he’s pretty sure no one will find it. It’s not that he’s afraid Eliott would be weirded out about it, it’s just… It’s a lot. Because it’s one thing to be aware that your best friend is insanely attractive, and it’s another one to think that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t mind being the one he kisses, the one he pulls by the waist at night, and the one who makes him feel good in bed.

The irony of the calendar (and his life, really), makes it that the next few days are just a whirlwind of Eliott Eliott Eliott, and by the time Christmas rolls around, Lucas is ready to die. Not because he doesn’t want his best friend anywhere near, but because he would very, very much appreciate if his brain could just fucking stop bringing up that wishlist every fucking five minutes — every single time he so much as glances or thinks about Eliott. Which tends to be problematic when he’s literally living with him at the moment. All of a sudden it’s like he’s hyper-aware of all the times Eliott smiles at him, reaches out to ruffle his hair in the morning, or has a nice gesture of any kind. It’s like he feels somewhat guilty for every laughter they share, and when they go do some last-minute Christmas shopping, Lucas walks around on automatic pilot for the better part of the afternoon, after inadvertently catching sight of Eliott’s arm flung around his shoulders in a mirror.

The only upside of having a dysfunctional family is that for at least 24h it takes Lucas’ mind off Eliott and that weird-ass situation his fifteen-year-old self put him in the first place. He spends Christmas Eve with his father and his new wife in a restaurant, and if one can’t be caught dead trying anything to make his son feel at ease, the other is trying so fucking hard it makes Lucas wants to throw himself in the traffic on the way to pick up his mom at her subway stop. Because yes, his stepmother insisted that he brings his mother, and Lucas was chicken enough to accept, just so that he wouldn’t have to sit through the whole dinner with his father and his weirdly enthusiastic second wife.

The whole dinner is as awkward as it can possibly be, but then Lucas comes back to Eliott’s place, early enough that his best friend is still at his grandparents’, and he tries to make sense of the feeling of relief he feels when he drops himself on the couch, only to see Eliott’s sketchbook on the coffee table, and Eliott’s hoodie thrown carelessly on the armrest, and Eliott’s drawings pinned up on the walls, and the piano pushed in the corner. It used to be in Eliott’s bedroom back at his parents’, and they would mess around trying to get the Star Wars theme right with four hands on the keyboard.

None of these things feel new — but all the hyper-awareness is weird enough to make him want to scream and hits his head repeatedly with the flat of his hand. And the worst part is that it keeps going on like this. Spending Christmas day at the Demaurys’ shouldn’t feel so weird either, and yet. He’s always been Eliott’s platonic plus one at every single one of his family birthday dinner, so he knows everyone and everything about this family. He knows that one of Eliott’s uncles and his godfather will inevitably end up on different sides of an argument about politics, that Eliott’s dad will probably try to lighten the mood, that Eliott’s younger cousins will pout for a fair share of lunch or dinner except when they’ll venture on TikTok halfway through, that Eliott’s grandmother will make a passive-aggressive comment or two about the food that his mother will try to ignore, and at some point, as always, she’ll go to the kitchen, and make a weird face only for Lucas to see, and that he’ll have to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh — he knows all of that, because he’s been around for fifteen years.

But still it does feel weird. A little bit. And not just because he’s never spent a Christmas dinner with them. It feels weird, because it downs on him that Eliott is single, and that he’s single too, and that although Eliott’s mother welcomes him as soon as Eliott walks him and asks if they can add a plate, when they take off their coats, Lucas catches a silent conversation between her and her husband that results into Eliott’s dad shrugging. Did they ever think they were more than friends? Did they ever think Lucas was more than just the kid from across the street with a fucked-up family? Because he himself never did, but now it’s all he can think about. And if he had been a girl, or if Eliott had been a girl, if they had been in a boy/girl kind of friendship, he knows that at some point the Demaurys would have asked for ground rules, no matter how ridiculous it would have felt for them. No closed doors in the afternoon, no sleepovers in the same room, and with every birthday dinner or birthday lunch, people would have just assumed they were a particularly chill couple who refrained on PDA.

So that’s how he spends his Christmas lunch, alongside the Demaury family. He laughs at the jokes thrown around, at the same family memories he’s heard a bunch of times already, rolls his eyes at the political arguments on the other end of the table, and spends entirely too much time pondering the ins and outs of heteronormativity and the way it may or may not have shaped his relationship to his best friend.

“You okay?”, Eliott asks at some point on his way back from the kitchen, squeezing his shoulders lightly, and Lucas has to crane his neck all the way up to make eye-contact because his best friend is standing behind him.

“Yeah, I’m all good,” he says with a smile, and when Eliott goes to sit back at the table, Lucas tries his best to ignore another look he catches between Eliott’s parents.

“Can I ask you something?” Eliott asks from his spot against the stove, hands tightly wrapped around his mug while Lucas pours himself his second coffee of the day.

It’s officially the last week of the year, and to Lucas’ great dismay, he’s not particularly sure that any of his internal questioning sessions will die at midnight on New Year Eve. To make matters even worse, he doesn’t feel like he’s slept one bit, and although he initially tried to conceal it at best as he could, he guesses he’s making a poor job considering Eliott joined him for breakfast roughly three minutes ago and is already picking up on the signs.

“Yeah, sure,” Lucas says, trying to sound relaxed, nose in his mug to avoid looking Eliott in the eyes.

“You would tell me if you didn’t want us to move in together, right?” Eliott enquires after a moment. “I mean, it’s not the first time I get an idea and I run away with it and you’re…”

“No, no, I still want to,” Lucas interrupts, and he hopes his voice doesn’t sound as weird and scratchy as it feels in his throat. Because he does. He genuinely still does want to go through with it, because no matter how fucked up his brain is making things for him lately, Eliott is still the closest from home he’s ever felt.

Eliott hums. “Oh, okay,” his voice trails off, sounding hesitant, “I mean I was afraid you might have changed your mind and didn’t know how to tell me.”

Lucas laughs, but deep down he wants to slap himself because it sounds like chalk screeching on a blackboard in the silent kitchen corner. God you’re so fake. “I don’t know where you got this idea, I’m still 1000% in.”

Eliott looks sheepish, chewing onto his bottom lip uncomfortably. “Look, I know… I mean you’ve been kind of quiet lately, and I know sometimes you get lost in your head a bit. I don’t want you to think you can’t, like, talk to me or anything.”

Lucas’ grip tightens around his mug. He doesn’t deserve Eliott. No one does, but especially not him. “I’m fine it’s just… You know, Christmas mood isn’t my strong suit,” he mumbles, eyes falling. “Plus, going through all that stuff the other day… It brings up some memories.”

After all, it’s not a lie. It did bring up a lot of feelings and thoughts, and although they aren’t all that unpleasant, it’s surprisingly difficult to maintain eye-contact with your best friend when you spent most of the past few days trying not to picture his mouth on you.

“I’m sorry,” Eliott says, sounding so absolutely genuine that Lucas wants to smash something — preferably his head against the kitchen sink. “Of course I don’t know how you feel but, you’re not going through it alone, right? I’m here for you. Always have and always will.”

Lucas swears he could cry. He can’t possibly keep it to himself. Not when Eliott is his best friend, not when they’re just about to start looking for a place to live together, not when the longest Lucas has tried to hide a secret from him was exactly ten hours. “You’re checking a bunch of boxes,” Lucas confesses with a long sigh, eyes falling shut for a second.

A weird kind of silence settles in the kitchen, tension lodging between Lucas’ shoulders.

“What are you talking about?”, Eliott asks after a moment.

“The boyfriend list,” Lucas mumbles, shaking his head to himself. “Or wishlist or whatever. It’s fucking dumb, I know, and I never realized that before, but the other day I found that stupid list again in my stuff at the storage unit, and now I don’t know what to do with it, or what to think.”

If anyone needs a guide on how to ruin a lifelong friendship, Lucas Lallemant is your reference, he thinks humorlessly. But it’s Eliott. So maybe it’s not that bad, right? It doesn’t have to be a big deal. And okay, maybe he is making a big deal out of it, maybe he wouldn’t have to be afraid about Eliott’s reaction if he wasn’t the one making it sound like-

“And you feel like… it’s a problem?” Eliott asks carefully, as if he had followed his train of thoughts.

Lucas sneers, finally turning around to meet Eliott’s eyes. “Well, you tell me. I’m shaping my imaginary boyfriend after my childhood best friend, what does it say about me?” He’s pretty positive it’s not the sign of someone with a perfectly balanced life.

“That you have great taste,” Eliott grins, but it kind of turns into a wince when Lucas lets out a groan. “Hey, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want to, alright? I’m nothing extraordinary, I’m sure plenty of guys check those boxes.”

“But…?”, Lucas prompts, because it feels a lot like Eliott isn’t done but he’s really close to tell him that pausing for dramatic effect right now is definitely not the nice thing to do.

Eliott’s hands are still gripping tight his coffee mug. “But nothing. Like I said,” Eliott adds, clearing his throat a little, “it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

Suddenly it hits Lucas that he sounds fucking nervous, like, actually nervous. Why is he nervous? Oh right. He just made things weird. “Why? Do you want it to mean something?”, he asks, hoping to go for a casual laugh, but it comes out wrong, off-key.

“Well… I started making a list too, a couple of years ago,” Eliott says, before pausing. His mouth twists a little. “And it’s… uh, it’s possible you’re checking a bunch of boxes as well.”

Well that’s just getting better and better, Lucas almost says. It’s Eliott’s turn to avoid his eyes and Lucas isn’t sure what’s going on but he’s pretty positive he doesn’t like it, because now things aren’t just weird on his part anymore, and he has no idea what to do with that piece of information.

Eventually, because he’s like that, Lucas snorts — it’s just too much. “Look, I appreciate it if you’re trying to make me feel better but-”

Eliott looks offended. “I’m not,” he says, sounding earnest, and Lucas’ words die in his throat. “Okay, you know what? Come with me.” He puts his mug down onto the kitchen elements, and Lucas doesn’t even have the time to say anything before Eliott motions to leave the kitchen, dragging him along in his wake. His own coffee mug still in his hands, he stares in confusion as they walk into the living room, his best friend going to retrieve one of his sketchbooks from the tiny coffee table.

The next few seconds are particularly silent as Eliott flicks through the pages, but he eventually exhumes a loose leaf from the depths of the sketchbook. What strikes Lucas first is that there’s a lot of black ink on it. Lines, sometimes full-on paragraphs have been crossed with a thick black marker, which offers a stark contrast with Eliott’s rather small but clean handwriting.

“See? I’m not lying,” he says, and he seems to hesitate for a split second, before he hands it to Lucas. “You can read it, if you want.”

No that’s personal, is the first thing that comes to his mind. It’s the right thing to do. It’s the kind of thing he would want people to think about his very own stuff — that it’s off-limit, that peeking is rude, that it’s intrusive. He knows he’s an adult, he knows that, and Eliott is an adult too, and even more so they literally grew up together, they figured shit out together, so it’s not like Eliott would bat an eye if he ever read anything about Lucas’ slightly graphic descriptions, no.

But would he die on the spot from the sheer embarrassment? Probably.

And yet — when Eliott holds his list, he picks it up. He’s a hypocrite like that.

“Boy there's a lot of marker,” he says dumbly, cocking an eyebrow, but deep down all he can think about is that he’s holding that stupid list Eliott wrote, about the things he wants in a partner, and he hates, he hates that there’s some kind of weird hope fluttering deep inside him.

His eyes skim over the entries, more avidly than he’d like to admit. Naturally, Eliott my-head-in-the-cloud Demaury cannot go straight to the point, so it’s not surprising that each entry turns out to be at least a full sentence long.

3- They don’t mind a good challenge and won’t pass on an occasion to try out new things even if that means stepping out of their comfort zone.

8- They understand that mental health isn’t smiling all the time.

14- They’re straight-forward enough to say when things aren’t fine and don’t dismiss it with a shrug.

“Okay but that could be anyone, Eliott,” Lucas says flatly, turning the page over, and he tries his best not to feel disappointed because it’s not like he has the right to be. “And I’m sorry but I think the last time someone called me ‘optimistic’ was, like, in kindergarten, and it was about another Lucas.”

“Well that’s the thing,” Eliott argues with a small shrug, and he buries his hands in his pockets. “To me it’s kind of… you. And I know it’s confusing because well, I was there too, but I feel like… I don’t know, the point of making a list like that in the first place is to figure out what matters and what we want, no?”

Lucas’ hand tightens around his mug. “I mean, yes,” he admits, voice dragging slowly on the last word. But does that mean you want me? He can’t get the words out, it’s like his mouth is full of gravel. Another reason why Eliott’s list can’t possibly be about him, he’s far, very, very far from being brave. Or even ‘quick-witted’ for that matter — he only has biting come-backs that would also get him beaten up in middle school. “But between knowing what makes you comfortable and knowing that you want to know your best friend in the biblical sense, there’s an ocean,” Lucas points out, a bit more dryly than intended.

Eliott’s cocks an eyebrow. “In the biblical sense,” he repeats, laughter not far behind as he perches himself onto the armrest of the couch, and just because of that, because of the subtle way Eliott’s voice changes, because Lucas knows he’s biting back a laugh — it’s because of these small things that the tension lifts a little, and that the atmosphere shifts to something more bearable.

“You know what I mean,” Lucas huffs.

Eliott grins, that kind of annoying grin that made Lucas smack his face with textbooks back in the days. “Oh, yeah, I do, don’t worry about that.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, eventually glancing back to Eliott’s list — but it’s like the words don’t print themselves in his brain, like he can’t comprehend those simple sentences written in Eliott’s oh-so-clean handwriting. “You haven’t told me what all that marker was about,” he croaks out after a moment of silence.

“And how about you tell me how you actually feel about this?”, Eliott asks gently. He rises up from the couch, stepping closer, and Lucas finally finds the courage to look up long enough to hand him back his list.

“I think that you deserve to find someone more than anyone else in the world,” Lucas says, voice getting a bit quiet as he grabs tightly his cold coffee mug with both hands. “But I don’t know if that someone could be me. I never thought… I mean it’s only been a couple of days, before that I never thought of us like that.”

“But you did in the end,” Eliott points out.

It gets Lucas’ brain to work, the wheels turning even faster — because Eliott’s right. He didn’t come to think of being romantically involved with Eliott because Eliott showed him his list, he got there all by himself. And the problem isn’t that Eliott is repulsing, it’s not that the thought of kissing him and going on dates with him is weird, it’s not that falling asleep next to Eliott is grossing him out. The problem is-

“I think I just don’t want to risk losing you,” Lucas admits in a whisper, eyes falling. He’s never been in an actual relationship. His list of exes should be requalified as, at best, weeks-long flings, and he does not particularly think he’ll be a natural at this, courtesy to his parents displaying the opposite of a healthy relationship for most of his life — the last thing he wants is to hurt Eliott in the process of trying and failing.

He only looks up when Eliott’s hands cover his own around the coffee mug. “I know. And I know no amount of promises on my part will make it better, but if you need me to I’ll repeat it every single day.” His thumb gently caresses the back of Lucas’ hand. “I’ll be there as long as you want me to. And if you don’t want me like that, then it’s fine too. I’ll still be there no matter what.”

Lucas takes a deeper inhale. “Why are you so calm about all of this? How long have you been sitting on that shit to be so chill now?”

Eliott looks sheepish. “Two, three years maybe.” Lucas’ mouth falls open, but Eliott quickly adds: “I mean, it’s not that I was like, just fantasizing about you for like three years straight, it’s just that, like, I always thought you were always the one that…” His voice trails off and he huffs a laugh. “See why I didn’t say anything before? It’s just… it’s so hard to explain.”

“Yeah,” Lucas snorts, chewing onto his bottom lip. “Tell me about it.”

But deep down he’s starting to understand what Eliott means. It’s hard to put into words every little thing that makes Eliott the person he needs most. Something not even a list of a thousand entries can do. And maybe that’s why it feels so alien that, to Eliott, he’s the perfect match to his wishlist. To me it is you, Eliott had said before, and now he gets it. He gets it because Eliott’s hands are around his own, he gets it because Eliott would probably be willing to tattoo ‘I will not leave you alone’ somewhere on his arm if Lucas asked. He gets it because Eliott has been sitting on his own feelings for three years, and still he helped him out pick up guys, sort out his life, encouraged him to leave for a whole different country, and he was only brave enough to go through any of it because Eliott made him feel like he was capable of doing so.

“My list is a mess,” Lucas confesses. “And I should probably cover a thing or two before you see it because that’s, like, not appropriate for a first table read. But if you want to read it… Then you can read it. And then you can decide if you think you can put up with me more than you already do.”

Eliott’s smile is soft and blinding at the same time. He takes one of his hands off Lucas’, and when he pulls him closer by the neck, Lucas still feels weird about it, but not in a bad way; there’s just something churning in his stomach that wasn’t there not so long ago. He just leans into the touch as Eliott’s lips press onto his cheek, because Eliott smells good, and it makes him feel warm and protected in a way no one else ever made him feel.

“I’ll be honest,” Eliott says quietly, not pulling much away, “that’s why there’s so much marker on mine.”

This time Lucas feels warm for a whole different reason. He feels the tip of his ears heating up a little bit, and he’s positive it doesn’t have to do with Eliott’s immediate vicinity. “Well,” he says, clearing his throat a little bit, “that’s… something to think about.”

“One step at a time though.”

Lucas finds himself smiling, mirroring Eliott’s expression, his eyes trailing a second too long on Eliott’s lips. “Yeah. One step at a time.”

#skam france #elu fic #eluficrec #mine #*#it's been so long i feel like i don't know how to write anymore <333 #*my fics

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thetomorrowshow · 4 years

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Slower Than Words Ch. 26

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Me, writing this chapter: I am going to create a situation that is so awkward,

cw: food

~SHARON~

welcomes you

Remus eyed the sign suspiciously as he drove past. It was set low in the ground, as if it had sunk a bit over time. It didn’t look familiar at all—none of this did. Did he have the wrong place?

Patton shifted a bit in the seat beside him, looking around with interest. They’d reached their destination, after all. Remus couldn’t help but doubt himself. There were other Sharons in the country, after all. Maybe they’d just gone to the wrong one.

Something about this city called to him, sure. But that didn’t mean anything—the cult had called to him too. Remus’s instincts weren’t the best.

He was roused from his thoughts when Patton softly tapped his shoulder. They were passing a grocery store—Save A Lot. It was time for lunch, wasn’t it?

Remus pulled left into the parking lot of the store, which was fairly empty for midday Friday. Only three cars, and a fourth pulling in at the same time as them. Remus parked in between two of the other cars there (mostly because he could) and hopped out, taking a moment to stretch before entering the store. Patton got out too, walking around to the driver’s side while Remus continued to reach toward the sky.

Patton led the way, holding the door open for Remus, who looked up as the bell jingled. An older man waved from behind the counter. A shopper milled about in the nearest aisle. Classic rock played quietly in the background. It was nice, in a weird way. Very peaceful. Very easy.

Pat headed for the bathroom and Remus watched him for a second, before turning down one of the aisles at random. They probably needed some fruit or something. He followed the aisle through to the small produce section on the other side of the store. Another employee leaned against the meat counter on the other side of the section, eyes glued to his phone. Remus froze and stared at him, waiting to be told that he wasn’t allowed back here. Nothing happened.

Remus fully exited the aisle and checked out the fruit. Oranges, apples, different apples, a handful of pineapples. The oranges were the cheapest, and Patton needed citrus too. There was a vitamin in citrus, right? Vitamin D? C?

Whatever it was, he was pretty sure that Patty needed it. He needed every vitamin, actually. Remus picked up an orange, about to pull a plastic bag from the roll.

“Oh my gosh. No way!”

Remus dropped the orange, spinning on his heel and straightening up. His heartrate spiked, breathing quickened, and he stood at attention, keeping his eyes on the linoleum floor.

“Remus?”

He chanced a quick look up, forcing his eyes almost immediately back down. He saw . . . a woman. Young, probably about his age. Tall. A shopping basket over her arm (probably why he hadn’t heard her coming. No squeaky wheels). Smiling. She was completely unfamiliar, but by now the watery reflection of the lights on the floor had gotten into his head where he was. In a grocery store. In his hometown. Not back there.

With effort, Remus wrenched his head up, meeting the woman’s eyes. “H-hey,” he said, clearing his throat. “What’s up?”

“So it is you!” The woman laughed a little. “I haven’t seen you in years. How’re your parents?”

This woman knew him. So he had definitely lived here. But this wasn’t a very big city, and if she knew him, then she had to have known his family, right? Why would she have to ask him how they were? Had they moved away? Cold clutched at his heart as he considered that option. They can’t have. He can’t have lost them before he even found them.

“I-I dunno, just got in town. Haven’t even dropped by yet.”

The woman nodded. “Where do you live now?”

“Other side of the country,” Remus hedged, “Desert-y place.”

“Oh, I grew up in Arizona,” the woman said, almost commiseratingly. “So hot. There were days that I’d just go stick my head in the freezer.”

Remus laughed nervously. “Yep, wish—wish I coulda done that.”

“Mhm. Really, I haven’t seen you since—gosh, since we graduated! You didn’t even come to the graduation itself, I heard that you skipped town practically the day after school got out.”

Okay, someone he’d gone to high school with. Remus remembered being sorta close with the other kids on the soccer teams, but he mostly hung out with the stoner kids to annoy his parents. He couldn’t see how he would know this chick. Maybe they’d been lab partners? Or maybe she’d been someone he hung out with?

The woman seemed to be casting around for something to say, her eyes eventually falling on his face. “Wow, that mustache has really filled out, huh?”

Remus’s hand flew up to smooth it unconsciously. “Yep, this is a couple years’ hard work,” he boasted. The woman chuckled.

“No offense, but it used to be this terrible shrimpy little thing,” she said. “I remember prom night when you picked me up you were all grumpy because your mom made you shave it off. You didn’t even talk to me until we got there!”

Oh shoot.

Oh no.

This was an old girlfriend.

Remus hadn’t dated anyone in years. He’d tried for a while, those first months in the cult. But the gals weren’t interested and the guys were too scared, so he’d given up. He hadn’t really minded it, honestly—he had dated all through high school, but looking back he only did it to make his parents mad. They didn’t want him steady dating until he was an adult, and definitely didn’t want him dating dudes and stoners, so he had done both over and over again between the ages of thirteen and eighteen.

Now, though?

Maybe it was just the cult stuff talking, but Remus wasn’t interested in a partner. The romance part sounded cute (he’d never admit it, but part of him really wanted to curl up with his partner and watch a romcom, teasing each other lightly), but the rest of it sounded like way too much of a hassle. He didn’t have the time, not when he was carrying the load of three different people’s trauma. And while he had a feeling that the commitment might help ground him, he just wasn’t interested in the rest of it. If that made sense. Heck, this was his own head and it didn’t really make sense.

Anyways, he remembered this woman, just a little. Not much about her, or how well they worked together, or if they had truly been in love. He mostly remembered that he had left without breaking up with her, without even telling her goodbye.

“Yeah, I was a terrible kid,” he said, secretly waiting for her to agree with him. Instead she shrugged.

“Sure, you were always hanging out with weird people,” she replied, “but you were very kind. I definitely don’t think we were meant for each other, but I had fun with you.” She winked and Remus almost physically recoiled. He didn’t like when people winked.

A hand tapped his elbow and Remus jolted, turning his head. Patton was there, smirking a little bit.

The woman’s eyes traveled between them, clearly trying to figure out their relationship. “Boyfriends . . . ?”

“Kidnapper and victim,” Remus said, turning back to her fully and smiling toothily. He felt a little bit more in control now. She barely seemed uncomfortable, instead sharing her own smile.

“Right. Well, tell your parents I said hi,” she said, waving slightly. Remus noticed the ring on her wedding finger, but before he could ask, she answered.

“D’you remember Claire, from the swim team?”

Remus opened his mouth to lie, but she continued to talk.

“Well, after you left, she comforted me and helped me decide what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, and the answer turned out to be her!” the woman laughed at her own joke, and Remus laughed along, not quite sure why. It was obviously a practiced line, and he didn’t really find it funny either.

The woman reached out and patted him on the shoulder, a warm look in her eyes. “Seriously, it was great to see you. Everyone was really worried about you, we thought you’d died in some ditch. Take care!” And with that, she was turning down another aisle, quickly out of sight.

“Who was that?” Patton asked as soon as Remus turned to him. The smirk was gone, his eyes now wary.

“A friend from when I was a kid,” Remus signed distractedly, looking at the oranges again. He grabbed two, then a third one just in case and led the way back to the cash registers. On the way he snagged a package of beef jerky, grimacing at the price.

That was the weirdest encounter he’d had, probably ever. At least it was proof that they were in the right place.

“No clue where we are,” Remus sang under his breath, checking the street signs as they passed a church. The area looked vaguely familiar, so that had to mean something, right? Apparently not, because after the grocery store experience, everything looked familiar. He pulled to stop in front of a stop sign, patting Logan’s car as it groaned. For a moment, he let his eyes close and his head rest on the steering wheel.

Patton tapped his arm, waiting for him to look. “Trust your instincts,” he signed, finger-spelling the last word. He smiled softly at Remus, then turned back to the window, pulling the patched hoodie closer around his shoulders. Remus took a deep breath. He could do this. He’d survived a cult. He’d saved a whole kid from the same cult. He was awesome.

Remus took his foot off the brake, letting the car carry him from street to street, waiting for something to happen. If this didn’t work, then he’d go street by street, knocking on every door until he found his parents and brother.

Then, as he turned right in a somewhat busy intersection, his hands spasmed. Muscle memory took over, and he turned right again onto a smaller street. Memories of driving this road far too fast in the darkness of late nights and early morning flooded his mind, overlapping and playing simultaneously. In the memories, he followed this street through, then turned left at the end of it.

So he did, his arms turning the wheel almost without conscious input. Another two turns, and he was Euclid Ave, a street name that made his heart jump into his throat. Just two houses down, there it was.

150 Euclid Ave.

Suddenly, the home phone number was on the tip of his tongue—he’d memorized them together. He recalled his parents, sitting on the sofa, clapping for a miniature version of him reciting the full address and phone number.

He stared at the house so hard stars appeared in his vision, surprised to feel almost nothing. It was familiar of course, just like everything else, but it was also . . . normal. It almost felt like he’d never left. Or like he’d gone back in time, back to when this was right. Back to when this was who he was.

“Home?” Patton asked out loud, the middle of the word slurring a little. Remus’s eyes misted a little bit.

“Yeah,” he managed. “Home.”

Knock-knock-knock.

Remus rocked back onto his heels, shooting a reassuring smile to Patton. He could do this. No sounds came from inside the house, but there were two cars in the driveway, so someone had to be home. Hopefully both were his parents, then he could see everyone together.

But his brother could drive now, right?

They were five years apart. When he’d left, his brother had been in middle school. Now he was probably in college. If he was away at school, he wouldn’t be home right now, would he?

Remus knocked again.

Now there was sound from inside, the creaking of footsteps on floorboards, the running water. Adrenaline suddenly pumped through his veins, and the wild thought of running back to the car crossed his mind. He could get out before they ever knew he was here, just leave and nothing would change.

Did he want it to change?

Click-click. The door unlocked.

Swung open.

Remus composed his face the best he could, trying to smile and look as normal as possible. He could do this. He could do this.

He looked up.

A face, lined, clean-shaven, framed with close-cut dark hair that was greying at the ends. A face that Remus saw from the stage of a talent show, sitting in the audience, smiling and clapping along with his clarinet rendition of Jingle Bells.

The shoulders were broader than Remus ever thought his own would be, proved otherwise by time. Remus saw the shoulders from the closet of his parents’ room, where occasionally on Sunday afternoons the boy was allowed to try on suit coats that swallowed him completely.

The left hand had a simple silver band, one that Remus could see resting on the aluminum foil ring holder he’d made in class as a Father’s Day present. He’d always been afraid that it would catch his fingers when they played the hand stacking game.

Remus’s eyes traveled back up the arm, the shoulder, the neck, the face, back to the eyes. Blue, almost grey, a color that neither he nor his brother had inherited.

“Hey dad,” he croaked. “I'm home.”

The eyes widened.

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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years

Text

the great trial part four

summary: This was meant to be the easy part. The part filled with brightness and love. The war was over and you had the love of your life all to yourself. No more Baatar, no more secrecy and no more lies. But with the calm comes the realization as all the adrenaline finally leaves you. Now you know, this is the hard part.

a/n: lol I just realized part four of tgd is where it got smutty. What a pattern like I didn’t even try. Thank you @medeliadracon and @ladyxffandoms !

word count: 5k

You pick up reading again and sometimes Kuvira joins you, the both of you sit with your back resting against an armrest as your legs are tangled together.

Lily is asleep on the armchair and jazz music softly plays from the radio as the newly repaired domes shut for the evening. Kuvira is humming as you turn the page of your novel and dog ear the corner before snapping it shut, she looks up from her book with a quirked brow.

“I’m bored,” you groan out, tilting your head back in annoyance as you let the book slide onto your lap. “How are we gonna spend the rest of winter like this.”

“We’ll manage,” she replies, wedging a bookmark between the pages and softly shutting the book. “We should probably make dinner.”

Resting your head against the back of the couch you eye the kitchen with a sigh. “We could make bean curd puffs, those are fun.”

And so the both of you end up in the kitchen with Kuvira making the mixture as you roll the dough into a thick stick, the countertops and even the floors are covered in flour as you begin to cut the roll into twelve pieces. You don’t notice the way Kuvira watches you, a small smile that's reserved only for you as she watches you begin to spread the pieces out with the palm of your hand.

By now you're the one humming the song. Kuvira’s noticed how much you like this new song that plays on the radio, how you hum or softly sing the lyrics when it comes on. You catch her staring and raise a brow, a slight flush dusting your cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing,” she shakes her head. “You just look so beautiful.” You stop your movements, your mouth open in surprise. Neither of you has gone as far as complimenting the other, for the most part, an outsider might just think you’re roommates with how the two of you have been acting these last few months.

Abandoning the dough you try to fill your head with confident words as you turn to your soulmate and take the step to be closer to her. Kuvira’s grip on the spoon loosens as she watches you step closer and slowly bring your flour-covered hands to rest on her cheeks. “You look... Really pretty.”

And she does, she’s started to wear her hair down for you and she’s dressed in a white tank top and light green sweatpants which might not be appealing to some but it shows off her muscles and curves in a way that she knows you like.

Taking the chance you lean forward and gently press your lips against hers. You haven’t kissed since the hospital which was midsummer, the months have gone by so slowly and with it, your anger has dissipated into a dull flame within you.

Hesitantly she kisses you back, one of her hands goes to rest on your hip but she doesn’t hold it in fear of you pulling away. She’s had dreams of you finally kissing her again, none involve standing in the middle of the kitchen with flour covering one of you but she doesn’t care.

She just wants you. Slowly you pull your lips away from hers but don’t move an inch away from her body.

“I’ve missed this,” she admits, “I’m sorry.” She doesn’t say what she’s sorry about but you know, there’s honestly too much for her to apologize for her to fit it into one simple sentence.

And you know you’ll need quite a few more I’m sorry‘s before you reach that next step but right now you won’t ask for more. Right now you wrap your arms around her neck and begin to sway to the song on the radio. It’s one of your favorites.

Kuvira slowly wraps her arms around your waist and tucks her face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in like she hasn’t seen you in years. To be fair it’s felt like that to her.

A part of her wants to shower you in I love you’s but she doesn’t think it’s time for that just yet. Dr. Hanika said it’s best to let you make the first move this time around, to give you the control and decision making she originally took from you all those years ago. So instead she pulls you just a fraction closer to help keep her mouth shut.

You take the soft barrier of pillows down, neither of you moves to touch the other but it’s comforting to know that you won’t push her off the bed if her arm brushes against your own.

Your parents come over for the winter solstice with presents aplenty and grins on their faces. They pull you into their arms and press loving kisses on your cheek, your dad does the same to Kuvira whilst your mom simply sends a forced smile her way before going to love on Lily. She understands your mother's hatred towards her, she just hopes one day they can talk it out for you.

The two of you had spent the day making cookies and homemade hot chocolate to prepare for your parents, the house smells of cinnamon and sugar as plates upon plates of cookies are set at the counter waiting to be eaten. Your father replaces the wilting bouquet with one filled with red, white, and gold and your mother sets the presents down in front of the window.

You both felt bad for not being able to get them presents, but your father had assured both of you that they understood. Besides, they just wanted to make up for the lost time. So you all sit around the table eating the feast the two of you had prepared and drinking wine, your dad is regaling Kuvira with a story of your tenth winter solstice where you had accidentally drunk your mother's wine.

Your mom places her head in her hands and groans “I felt like the worst mother in the world.”

“Hey, you're not,” you say with a grin. “You held my hair back a few hours later and the worst mother in the world wouldn’t do that.” The table erupts into boisterous laughter as she playfully glares at you. Kuvira takes a sip of her wine as she chuckles, her cheeks hurt from smiling.

She turns a blind eye when she notices your dad slipping Lily a chunk of meat, knowing you're trying to train her to not beg. He pats the hound’s head as the conversation continues, this time your mom is telling everyone about some of her weirdest experiences with drunk people in Zaofu.

The night continues much the same until finally, you all decide to retire to the living room. Kuvira decides to sit on the armchair so the three of you can snuggle up on the couch. You surprise her by walking over and sitting on her lap, laying your back against her chest. She rests her chin on your shoulder and wraps her arms around your waist, a smile of contentment gracing her lips.

Your mother ignores the display and hands you the first present on the pile, explaining that it’s for Lily. You quirk a brow at that before ripping the paper off and opening the box up.

Inside is a knitted dark green sweater with the words “I’m the favorite” stitched across the chest in white. You snort, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth and even Kuvira laughs at the sight. The I in favorite has been replaced by a middle finger, this is 100% your mothers doing, it has her humor plus your dad can’t knit.

“Thank you,” you say as you begin to calm down. “I think she’ll love this.” Your dad takes it from you to put it on Lily who wags her tail back and forth in excitement at the attention. It fits her perfectly and the words can be seen from your seat on Kuvira’s lap.

Next, is a cranberry sweater made for you that is super comfortable, a few pairs of thick socks for the both of you to share. New books and a new pair of gardening gloves. At some point during the unwrapping, you hear the shudder of a camera a few times, your father holding it up to capture memories for the two of you.

There’s only two presents left in the pile and this time your dad hands this one specifically to Kuvira, who pinches her brows together in confusion. You shift a bit on her lap to give her more room to open it up, watching with bated breath to see what it could possibly be.

Inside is a new sketchbook that’s leather-bound with a sleek metal clasp that locks. It’s wider and thicker than her current one which is running out of space and beneath the book is more charcoal pencils to add to her depleting collection.

She thickly swallows as her hand runs over the beautifully engraved leather that has her initials in swirly letters at the bottom. It’s simple and it’s hers.

With the Beifong’s it was usually things for sparring or extravagant gifts that anyone but Kuvira would prefer like fancy tunics and those massive metal necklaces they all wore. She’d sit in the back of the group staring at the gifts that felt like they didn’t really belong to her with a heavy heart.

But this is 100% hers. You brush a pesky strand of hair out of her face for her before turning to give your dad a thankful smile.

You knew he’d get her something but you worried about what it might be. Seeing her reaction is enough to know that your father's streak of perfect gift giving has not been broken. Carefully, as if worried she may break it, Kuvira places it back inside its box for now and looks up, offering your father the faintest of grateful smiles. He understands though and beams at her appreciation.

The last gift is also for Kuvira, it’s a heavy box that she slowly rips open, taking her time unlike you with your gifts. When she lifts the lid she’s met with soft emerald green fabric, slowly pulling it out you help her by taking the empty box, setting it on the floor. It’s a knitted sweater like yours. It looks like it’s a size too big for her but you once told her that’s how your mom knits, the bigger the better.

She doesn’t know what to say or do, you mentioned offhandedly how your mom makes everyone in the family sweaters for Winter Solstice, but she didn’t expect to get one as well. Not only is she not a family member, but she’s not even a friend. That nagging voice in her brain tells her that she probably didn’t make this. Maybe your mom bought it from a store or maybe you guilted her into making one.

But it’s soft and it’s beautiful and it’s hers. Nothing extravagant (although at times Kuvira does miss the finer things in life) or flashy. The emerald goes great with your cranberry, and she wonders if your mother thought of that or if it's just a coincidence.

Kuvira grips the fabric and looks up to see your mom watching with a pensive look. She takes a sip of her wine as Kuvira softly says “Thank you, for the gifts.” It’s directed at the both of them but her eyes stay on your mother who simply nods.

Shortly after, your parents call it a night and leave and you carefully extract yourself from her hold to hug them both. When you pull your mother into a hug you whisper softly “thank you, mom. It means a lot.” She nods, she doesn’t hug Kuvira, not ready for that, and offers her a nod of the head before leaving with your father.

As you're cleaning up the mess of wrapping paper and half-empty wine glasses, Kuvira shyly slips the sweater on to see if it fits and is surprised by how comfortable it is. The sleeves go past her wrist and graze at her knuckles and the sweater stops at the tops of her thighs. She looks down at the sweater, so many emotions that she can’t keep track of race through her mind and it’s so loud that she accidentally tunes you out.

Your back is facing her as you begin to wash the dishes, you're talking to her about what you’ll do with all these leftover cookies. When she doesn’t reply to your joke about having a cookie eating contest you look over your shoulder and stop scrubbing the dish in your hands.

The color makes her hair look slightly darker and brings out her eyes. She’s running her fingers over the fabric with a blank face and you wish to know what’s going on in that head of hers. She looks softer, less harsh with it on.

For so long you’ve seen her dressed ready to fight with a hardened look on her features, but right now she looks warm and cozy. She looks like safety and comfort personified, like if she wraps her arms around you a cocoon of soft blankets and loving whispers will encase the two of you.

You stop with the dishes and wipe your hands dry before walking up to Kuvira, when your hands go to gently touch hers it brings her out of her thoughts. Her eyes are clouded with emotion as you pull her into your arms. She wraps her arms around your waist and tightly grips at your shirt as she begins to cry.

To her, this is the first step in repairing a relationship she deeply misses, Kuvira and your mother were once close when she was in the guard. She sometimes brought her lunches which she now knows must have been made by your dad and always had her back. She cheered the loudest at her ceremony and even offered to have her come over for dinner to which Kuvira declined, not wanting to impose.

When she left those years ago she didn’t realize what she was severing, what she was destroying, and she knows she can’t change it, but she wishes she had stayed in Zaofu. They could have had three winter solstices together by now if she had just stayed put.

You wouldn’t be in the process of forgiving her because she would have left Baatar for you and you’d probably already be married or on your way to it. She knows that such a thing has been put on the back burner and won’t happen for a long time now, but she hates herself for destroying all those possibilities.

But you don’t seem to mind the past as you pull her closer and soothingly rub her back. Your embrace reminds her of the present and what will hopefully be the future. At this moment she’s realized how far the two of you have come within the past few months. It reminds her that Dr. Hanika said not to let the past consume you and that when Kuvira smiles you look so happy to witness such a thing. That despite all her wrongdoings you're still here which is more than she ever expected.

That night Kuvira falls asleep in that sweater with your arms wrapped around her. She dreams of a future where she’s gained your mother’s respect and your forgiveness.

Spring comes like a force to be reckoned with. Your garden is teeming with the buds of the seeds you planted last fall as you happily spend your days back outside. The sessions with Dr. Hanika have proceeded and all gone smoothly, today was meant to be your first couples session since last summer. Both of you are nervous about what might happen during it so you throw yourselves into separate activities to pass the time.

Lily is lying by your side, leisurely eating grass as you pull at the weeds that have attacked your precious garden. While you're doing that Kuvira is inside drawing with a cup of tea by her side, she’s gotten better but is by no means a professional, she hasn’t even shown you any of her work due to the insecurities she has regarding her skill. You understand thankfully, never once have you asked to look inside or pressured her.

When the doorbell rings, the both of you freeze, your nerves amplifying at the realization that there is no going back. Kuvira snaps her sketchbook shut, locking it with her bending before going to open the door. She’s been dreading this day the most. In her dreams last night she envisioned a session far worse than the last. In it, you verbally decimated her before saying it was over, that you could never love someone so monstrous.

To bring her comfort she’s wearing your mother's green sweater with a pair of your leggings. When she asked this morning if she could borrow them you didn’t seem to mind which eased her nerves a bit. You wouldn’t be willing to share clothes with her if you were planning to end it today. At least that’s what she told herself.

While Dr. Hanika is getting situated in the armchair you finally come inside and place your gloves on your herb shelves. Your pants have dirt-stains on them and you know it’d probably be best to change but you want to get this over with so you take a seat on the couch, next to Kuvira.

“Well, I can already tell you guys have been doing better,” she smiles. You tuck your hands under your legs as she begins to talk. She asks you both questions about your day like what does that consist of? How do you guys communicate now? Are you happy? You both take turns answering those questions and when you get to the last you answer honestly and say “Yes, I am.”

Kuvira doesn’t show it but inside she’s doing cartwheels at your words. She looks over at you and replies after you “I’m happy.”

“And what does your sex life look like right now?” That question stuns both of you. Kuvira just stares at the coffee table with wide eyes, not knowing how to reply as you flush a deep red.

“Uhm we haven’t…” You shake your head. “Not since before.” Before the end of my empire, Kuvira thinks. Not since that night almost a year ago where she thought you had finally left her, the night before it all went to shit. Not since your dream that finally made you snap, not that she blames you.

Not since “I can’t look at you right now!” and the crack in her heart that followed those words.

“Y/n, what is holding you back from taking that next step?” Dr. Hanika readies her pen as she patiently waits for your reply. Honestly, you’ve wanted to for the last couple of weeks but then you go to sleep and dream of her with him. Your mind keeps reminding you of her betrayal despite desperately wanting to move forward.

Nervously you wring your hands and let out a deep sigh. “Uhm, I just keep picturing him.” You try to keep your voice neutral, try to not spit out that last word even though every part of you wants to. Kuvira stiffens beside you and coughs. “I want to but every time I close my eyes it’s images of them together.”

“How does that make you feel, Kuvira?”

“Honestly? Awful…” Kuvira quickly adds “but not angry or anything. I just feel awful because I’ve done this to her and us.” She has to add that she’s not angry. In the past, she was almost always angry, and she needs you to know she’s not mad at you. This is her fault, and she’s aware of that now.

“From my understanding, your sex life was a bit complicated in the past. Kuvira you’ve told me that you’d withhold yourself as a form of punishment, is that correct?” She nods. “It seems like you used sex as a reward which is an unhealthy way to look at such an intimate activity. I think the two of you shouldn’t rush this and only do it once you fully trust Kuvira again.”

You nod, not being able to look at either of them at the moment. You want to trust her and for the two of you to be happy and in love but no matter how hard you try you can’t step over that line. It’s terrifying and you're worried that once you finally do trust her again this peacefulness will disappear and be replaced with the animosity that once used to rule your relationship.

“Okay…” You say. Kuvira nods in agreement. The session continues much as it did before that question was asked. It’s a bit tense now and the hour passes on with forced replies up until the end.

“I have some trust exercises. I want the two of you to practice for the next couple of weeks, maybe even months. You both need to be patient and understand that trust is a very hard thing to earn back and give to someone who’s deeply hurt you. The fact that both of you are still trying just shows how much you want to make this work.”

She begins to write a list of things on her notepad before ripping off the page and handing it to you. Both of you lean forward to read over the list together as Dr. Hanika packs up for the day.

Talk about your fears, be open, and accepting of what your partner has to say.

Look into each other's eyes for thirty seconds, try to work yourself up to three minutes.

Tell your partner why you love them.

Ask for what you need to do in order to gain Y/n’s trust again.

Have a calm conversation where you ask each other questions

Compliment each other

“Next week I’d like to do one on one sessions and the week after that we’ll do another couple's session. I’d like for the two of you to work on these until then. Remember to not rush this, it’s okay to take your time.” She shows herself out, softly shutting the door behind her. Silence falls as the two of you anxiously re-read the words.

“Should we do one now?” Kuvira asks. You shrug and softly set the piece of paper on the coffee table.

“I guess? But I don’t know which one to start with. I mean there’s so many.” Kuvira rakes a hand through her hair and sighs. She looks over it again, that top one scares Kuvira, she doesn’t know if she wants to hear your fears or tell you hers.

“Number two looks easy, we could try that?” And so you do. The both of you twist around on the couch until you are directly facing each other, knees touching as you mentally psych yourself up. “Thirty seconds isn’t too long.”

You nod and take a deep breath before looking up and locking eyes with Kuvira. The first few seconds it seems easy and you feel silly for getting worked up at the prospect but as time ticks on you start to see why she listed it in the first place.

Prolonged eye contact is intimate. Staring into Kuvira’s eyes for this long makes you feel bare and you quickly realize how much you don’t like that. Ripping your eyes away at the 25 seconds mark, you tense up.

“I’m sorry.”

“No it’s fine, it’s okay.” Kuvira hesitates before placing a hand on your shoulder and offering a comforting squeeze. “It’s gonna take some time, I understand.” She wishes it didn’t, she wishes it didn’t pain you to simply look at her for only thirty seconds. But she swallows that down and offers you a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” you say, you don’t even realize the iron grip you had on your ankles during the attempt and release them with a shaky sigh. “We’ll get there, right?”

“Right.”

You mess up four days later. Continuing with the eye contact exercises you work your way up to thirty-five seconds which feels like such a victory. You try to compliment her cooking, and she compliments the way your garden is coming along. It’s going so well and you're so tired of this that you go too fast too soon and you have no one else to blame but yourself.

Both of you have a glass of wine with dinner which leaves you slightly buzzed but not tipsy. When you're getting ready for bed your eyes follow Kuvira’s legs that are starting to lose some of their definition.

She’s wearing a pair of shorts due to the recent heat with a tank top and suddenly that desire you’ve tried to ignore these past few weeks comes rearing up with no control. And so you sit on the bed with your knees tucked underneath you and grab Kuvira’s hand as she goes to grab the covers to pull back. She looks at you with furrowed brows as you pull her closer until she’s sitting on the bed as well.

In her mind, she thinks that maybe you want to practice eye contact again but is left in a state of shock when you place your lips against her own. Her breath hitches when your hands go to cradle her face as you shuffle closer. Kuvira desperately wants to kiss you back but knows she can’t, so she gently pushes you away, you reluctantly let her.

Panting, you ask “don’t you want to?”

“Of course I do but Y/n are you ready? Dr. Ha-”

“I’m ready, I promise,” you place a gentle kiss on her jaw, a place you know she loves. She lets out a shaky sigh. “I want you Kuvira, please.” And fuck, who’s she to deny you when you say please? So Kuvira gently grips your chin and presses her lips against your own. She doesn’t push you and leads like she used to so you thread your fingers through her hair and tug, eliciting a moan from your lover.

You climb onto her lap as you begin to pick up the pace and gently tug on her lower lip with your teeth. Kuvira wraps her arms around your waist, her hands resting on your ass to keep you close. That heat that you’ve missed begins to pool within you, your whole body feels like it’s been lit with desire and you don’t want that feeling to ever leave.

When Kuvira squeezes your ass, ripping a moan out of you it gives her the perfect opportunity to prod her tongue in your mouth. Your tongues meld together in a way that shoots right down to your core, it feels so right, so hot and maybe your therapist was wrong about waiting.

When Kuvira goes to pull away she sucks on your tongue and slowly lets go of it. You both look into each other's eyes as you pant before Kuvira attaches her lips to your neck. Tilting your head to the side you breathe out her name as she bites down on that spot that drives you up the wall.

The moan that leaves your lips is sure to wake the neighbors. Kuvira feels smug about it. Let them all know how good she can make you feel. When she pulls away she stops to admire her handiwork and smirks at the big purple hickey that could be seen from across a room. She leaves open mouth kisses up your neck and your jaw, before pulling you back into a bruising kiss.

You both make out for who knows how long, you just know that you want to feel every part of her after such a long time. The kiss is fiery and full of long contained passion that’s bursting at the seams. You only pull away for a moment to breathe before pulling her back in, not being able to take a second away from her lips. At some point, you push Kuvira down onto the bed and lay your body against hers.

You make sure not to fully put all your weight on her, placing a hand down above her head as neither of you pulls away from the other. Her hands trace up and down your sides, fingertips skimming the tops of your breasts in a teasing manner that has you grinding down for any type of friction.

You make yourself pull away from her, wanting to finally feel her body like you dreamed of. The sight before you has you groaning, her hair is a mess, spread out across the pillows and her cheeks are flushed. Kuvira’s lips are bruised, and she stares at you with eyes so dark with lust it feels like they're swallowing you whole.

“Beautiful…” You whisper, Kuvira continues to pant as she watches you. Your hands slide down her body, feeling at the muscles that are just barely there before reaching the hem of her tank top. You slide a hand underneath, your fingers running across her stomach.

Kuvira leans her hips up and glares. “Take it off,” she growls out impatiently. You grin as your fingers grip the ends of her shirt and pull it off, she leans up to help you and you toss it somewhere behind you. She’s not wearing any wrappings and spirits, she looks so beautiful.

“Fuck, I want you so bad.”

Her words seem to snap something into place that was askew this whole time. Suddenly painful images flash through your mind, ones you’ve tried so hard to bury.

Baatar’s above her as he takes one of her nipples into his mouth with that sickening grin. She moans out his name as a hand reaches up to grip his stupid hair. Kuvira arches her back in pleasure as his other hand trails down to her clothed sex.

Next thing you know you’re jumping off of her and scrambling off the bed as a pained whimper escapes your lips. Kuvira bolts up, confusion written on her face before she sees tears begin to fall. Her face drops at the sight. “Y/n…”

You shake your head, not being able to talk for fear of letting out some kind of ugly sound before rushing off to the bathroom where you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You stay seated on the floor with the bathroom door locked as you cry into your hands.

The next morning you can only maintain eye contact for ten seconds.

One step forward, two steps back.

#kuvira #tgt #kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #kuvira fanfic #lok #lok fanfic #legend of korra

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