#I love this stupid fucking show <3<3 like EARNESTLY I do <3

[bumblingbabooshka]

Watching 11:59 and I can’t believe they just put a literal Hallmark romcom in the middle of Star Trek Voyager down to Shannon hating Christmas/New Years this show is wild

[ellecdc]

oh wooow…. I just found your chef!sirius and I think you unlocked a new favorite au for me! I’ve always been more of a james girlie but your sirius, especially your chef!sirius has me feeling all types of ways. do you have anything more for him and reader planned? I’d love to read more about them and their dynamic he’s been so sweet on her at a&e and the lip biting thing has made me think of plenty of unholy things they could do.

so excited to read more of them! or reread chef!sirius if you don’t plan on adding more. 🤍🤍🤍

I love them, your honour. Also, omg it's happening!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for your sweet words, babes <3

chef!Sirius x mixologist!reader who have their first date [2.5k words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

CW: reader is anxious as fuck about the date, we actually don't talk about Jeffery even once in this so sorry to all our Jeffery Stans (or haters) out there xoxoxo

A date.

An actual date.

And if it went well; your first date.

God did you hope it went well.

You’d been rightfully wary about the prospect of dating a coworker but you had to admit it was growing increasingly difficult (and extremely tiresome) pretending you weren’t completely gone for the cantankerous chef who seemed to only soften for you. 

Thankfully it seemed he was just as gone for you, which at least meant it would only be slightly awkward if it didn’t go well and not see you dying from embarrassment. 

What you hadn’t been prepared for, however, was how difficult taking a noteworthy chef out for a dinner date would turn out to be. 

Every restaurant you had suggested (though Sirius had insisted he would go anywhere with you) was either owned by someone he knew and was in direct competition with, someone he knew and didn’t like, or someone he knew and felt their food was no good. 

So you had made - what you were sure was a brilliant idea at the time - the horrible suggestion of just having him over to your flat for dinner. 

Great.

Terrible. 

Because now you were responsible for preparing a meal for that same noteworthy chef who got paid to spend day after day shouting at his kitchen staff for their “sad excuses for artistic plating” and “terrible passes at edible food”. 

Stupid, stupid girl. 

You warily eyed the sauce you had set aside for your tomato basil pasta as you stirred the store bought pasta on the stove.

What were you thinking!? Two of the seven ingredients (not including the bloody pasta) was in the sodding title. 

You were going to simply throw up. 

But the sound of an assured knock on the door felt like a buzzer ringing loud and obnoxiously at the end of a game - you were officially out of time.

Or were you?

Could you cancel? Tell him you were feeling poorly?

The fact that he had showed up at your sodding house with various essentials a mere few weeks ago told you no, you couldn’t cancel.

You smoothed out your shirt with shaky hands as you moved towards your front door. 

You saw this man almost everyday; you worked with him, and when you weren’t working with him, you were often commuting home with him or finding some other excuse to be in each other’s company.

So why were you nervous?

You opened the door to expose him; standing tall in all his fair skin, tattooed, storm-cloud eyes, inky-black hair artfully tied back in a way that screamed “I hardly tried” that you could never accomplish no matter how hard you tried glory.

Oh right.

That’s why you were nervous. 

“Hey there.” He greeted you softly; eyes roving over your form in much the same way yours had just done as you clocked in on the bouquet of flowers hanging casually in his hand. 

You had to wipe your now clammy hands off on your shirt again. 

“Hey.” You said belatedly, earning you a smirk from your date. “Erm, sorry, come in.” You chuckled awkwardly as you moved out of his way and granted him access to your flat. 

“Smells great!” He offered earnestly, pausing to turn to you and gesture to the flowers. “Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?”

“I can take those!” You began, reaching forward only to have him move them up and out of your reach with a smile on his face.

“Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?” He repeated softly, taking the hand you had been reaching for the bouquet with in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

Your brain worked overtime to keep your knees from buckling and directing him to the third cupboard from the left. 

He looked jarringly at home in your kitchen; shucking off his jacket and throwing it over the back of a stool before grabbing a vase from the appropriate cupboard and beginning a search through your drawers for a pair of scissors.

You had to remind yourself that he was a chef and it was his job to look at home in a kitchen; that was his domain.

You realised then that he had been speaking to you. 

“I’m so sorry, what was that?”

“I was only saying that I looked it up and made sure that these were safe for cats.” He said simply as he fluffed the bouquet in its new home and moved it to the centre of the counter with a satisfied smile. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Sirius.” You cooed somewhat embarrassingly. “I would have fought Birdie over them even if they weren’t.” 

Sirius let out one of his notorious barks of laughter (that half the staff insisted you were making up) that immediately left you feeling more at ease. 

“Well, no fighting required.” He said as he moved towards you, widening his stance so that he was closer to your height and wrapping his arms around your middle. “Thank you for having me.”

“Thank you for coming.” You smiled back; officially lost in the overwhelming beauty of this adonis who willingly accepted spending one of his precious evenings off with you. 

“I think your pasta might be done.” He whispered then, causing you to startle slightly and scramble from his grasp towards the stove.

“Anything I can do to help?” He asked as he followed you over.

“No!” You shouted at first, immediately embarrassed as you opted to pretend the heat of your face was a product of the steam from the pasta. “No, just, erm, go sit down.”

He backed out of your kitchen with a flirty smile on his lips as he accepted your direction.

Now you could understand why he was always yelling at people in his kitchen. 

You were astounded that you didn’t simply melt into goo under his steady gaze as you worked, but you were finally bringing the finished pasta to the table and sitting across from him.

“I apologise in advance; I’m not the cook you are.” You offered as you handed him the spoon to serve himself first. 

He gave you an odd look as he reached over and filled your plate first before his own. “No sorry needed, doll. When someone feeds me, I say thank you.”

You let out a breathy laugh as you picked up your fork. “Oh!” You nearly shouted, kneeing the table in your haste to stand causing you to have to catch a cup before it toppled. “Buggering fuck, sorry.” You apologised quickly, thanking every god known to mankind that you didn’t dump his plate or glass onto him. “Sorry, I forgot the asiago.” 

You opened the fridge and shoved your head into it feigning a search for the cheese when you really needed to cool down and take some steadying breaths.

You were fine, this was fine. 

Just fine.

Except that you had a stupid sexy tattooed chef sitting at your dining room table waiting for you to bring him the sodding asiago. 

You closed the fridge with a little too much force and heard some errant condiment tip over in the shelves behind you; you’d deal with that later. 

“This smells really good, doll.” He offered again, spreading the forsaken cheese over his pasta before loading a fork full and bringing it to his lips. 

You held your breath as you watched him chew; his brows furrowed before he nodded and let out an appreciative hum.

 “Very good; nicely done, gorgeous.” 

You smiled shyly at the praise and took your own bite.

It was good.

But surely it could be better? 

Should you have put more garlic in? The five cloves were already 3-4 more than the family recipe called for. And was there enough salt?

You definitely overcooked the pasta. 

The store bought pasta.

Fuck. 

“Hey.”

You looked up from your spiralling to see Sirius watching you cautiously. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing! Sorry.” You chuckled and began picking at your food. “Sorry, how was your day?”

He narrowed his eyes at you as he weighed whether or not he was going to let you brush past his question.

Apparently, you looking nervously down at his fork solidified his decision.

“That’s it.” He said as he put his fork down. “Come’ere.”

And before you could protest, he had one of the legs of your chair in his hand and was pulling you over to him. “What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?” He asked as he brushed a lock of your hair away from your eyes.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” You offered more confidently. 

Sirius hummed in faux consideration. “I call bullshit.”

You let out a defeated sigh and looked down at your hands in your lap. “I….I’m sorry, I- I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve made a mistake.”

Sirius was quiet for a few moments as you picked at your thumb nail and tried to ignore the stinging behind your eyes.

“Agreeing to spend tonight with me?” He asked softly then, causing you to look up so quickly that you heard your neck crack. 

“No! No! No, Sirius, not- not you, not this.” You assured him quickly, pulling one of his hands into both of yours. “I feel ridiculous.”

“‘Bout what?” He asked with reservation, though he considered your face with a look of concern clouding his own. 

“I can’t believe I tried cooking for you.” You bemoaned then, feeling that traitorous stinging behind your eyes turn into glossiness along your lash line. 

You watched in abject horror as Sirius’ face fell completely blank before he burst into laughter.

You were wrong, you were completely and utterly wrong; this really could end in you dying of humiliation. 

You were going to have to quit your job. You’d have to move back in with your parents. You’d have to change your number. You’d have-

“Doll, hey, hey wait!” Sirius managed to get out between hearty laughs as you tried pulling your hands away from him. “Wait! No no no, babe, listen.”

You let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob and pointedly kept your gaze at your lap; perhaps not the greatest option because from this vantage point all you could see was your hands in his which left you aching with want. 

One of his hands disappeared as it moved to your chin when he forced you to look at him.

“Do you know what I would be eating at home if I was alone right now?” He asked you around an incredibly handsome cheeky smile. 

You shook your head once which resulted in one traitorous tear spilling from your lashes, stealing Sirius’ silver gaze from your eyes as his thumb moved to catch it. 

“Maybe packaged ramen?” He replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Except I wouldn’t have cooked it.”

“What?” You choked out through a wet laugh.

“I wouldn’t have cooked it.” He repeated. “I would have crushed the noodles, opened the bag, sprinkled the seasoning on top of it and given it a shake and then would have eaten it from the bag.”

“That’s awful.”

“It is awful!” He agreed readily. “And do you know when the last time someone cooked for me was?”

You shook your head again. 

“Neither do I.” 

You both chuckled and he let his hand fall away from your chin where it joined your own again in your lap. 

“I cook all day long for everyone else and I usually can’t be arsed to cook for myself when the time comes. When I visit friends and family, they usually prefer having food prepared by a chef and I can’t bring myself to deny them because I love them and love cooking for them, so, this really is a treat. Not only did I not have to make it, it is also very good. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even know you could cook, so I was prepared to eat frozen pizza which still would have been an upgrade from my dry ramen.” 

You let out a breath in faux reluctance as you purveyed your set up. It did smell really good. 

“Did I completely botch this date?” You asked teasingly, though when you looked back at Sirius his gaze was as soft as butter left in the sun. 

“Absolutely not.” He whispered, leaning imperceptibly closer to you. “This is actually turning out better than I could have imagined.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as your eyes - without your consent - fell to his lips. “Yeah? Spend a lot of time imagining dates with me?”

“The majority of my time, actually.” He agreed easily, inching even closer to you. 

“And how do they usually end?”

Sirius shook his head no as his eyes moved to your own lips. “I don’t imagine that; I don’t imagine having to say goodbye.”

“No?”

“No.” 

“What do we do instead of saying goodbye, then?”

His eyes moved up to your own at that; neither of your daring to breathe as he searched your eyes for some kind of answer.

Well, you’d give him one.

Your answer came in the form of you closing the distance between you two and pressing your lips to his; he tasted a little bit like the mint gum you knew he chewed to avoid smelling like cigarettes, and he also tasted a bit like your pasta.

Your pasta, that you made for him. 

That he liked. 

And somewhere under all of that; somewhere under the mint and the tomato-basil-garlic, he tasted quite a bit like home. 

You weren’t sure who broke the kiss, but suddenly the two of you were connected by your foreheads as you took a heavy breath. 

“Usually that.” He answered breathlessly, earning him a laugh as you lowered your head only for him to pull it back up to press another kiss to your lips. “Can we eat this really good pasta that someone so graciously made for me now?” 

You laughed at him again and prepared to move your chair back to the other side of the table only for Sirius to reach over you and grab your plate so that you were sitting directly beside him instead. 

The two of you fell into your usual and comfortable repertoire then; his hand never leaving your knee under the table as the two of you talked about nothing and everything.

“Did you really not think I could cook?” You asked him  as you watched him clear off your table for you because “you cooked doll, it’s only fair.” 

You swore you noticed a slight dusting of pink on his cheek bones as he busied himself with loading your dishwasher. 

“Erm, no…actually. I never imagined goodbyes, and I never imagined you cooking.”

And though you wouldn’t find out until much, much later in your relationship; Sirius really didn’t think you could cook because the version of you in his head didn’t need to, that’s what he was for.

[hungharrington]

Could you write some smut of Steve with a girl who’s insecure about her thick thighs and he’s like obsessed with them

thank u for the request honey! hope this is okay <3 1.3k. warnings: afab!reader, steve eating r out, fingering, r is very critical of her own body image so beware!) remember babies, every body is a good body <3 ur all hot as fuck

By the time Steve’s kisses reach your stomach, you’re beginning to squirm.

Not for the reason’s one might hope for though.

Somehow, Steve notices as well — which is a surprise considering you’re focused entirely on trying not to show this part of you, literally and figuratively. Maybe you should be endeared that he’s so keyed onto you that he can tell the moment a concern worms into your head. It’s all love, after all.

“Uh oh,” Steve says, mouth still hovering just above your belly. He presses one more quick kiss and moves up a bit more so he can see your face clearer. His own brows knit together as he says, “You got that little wrinkle between your brows—”

He pokes between your eyebrows with his finger lightly and you realise he’s right, your face smoothing as you try to school it. Too late.

“Something’s wrong.” He states obviously. His next words are softer, kinder. “You not in the mood anymore?”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished his sentence, sitting up a bit straighter. “No, no, it’s not that.”

Steve relaxes a bit at you words, more of his weight resting back on the cradle of your hips. You can feel the hairs of his happy trail press against your tummy, the bend of his arms pressed against your sides. He ducks his head low and plants another kiss to your ribcage.

“Mm, what is it then?” He hums lowly. Another kiss, his bottom lip scraping as he drags his mouth along your skin lovingly. They drop from his mouth easily, one after the other, leaving a mess of wet kisses across your midriff.

You sigh softly, desire churning up inside your belly, fiery hot. Steve trails down, hands slipping to pinch at the edges of your panties and he begins working them down. You let him, breathes turning to pants as Steve’s kisses turn a little meaner. He nips and nibbles as he travels down.

Pulling back for a moment, Steve grins as you kick out your ankle and send your panties flying— his hands settling back on your knees and gliding down to hold your thighs tenderly. You can’t help it— you squirm again.

“There!” Steve says, about to lean back down to kiss you but pausing when he notices it again. “What are you- why’re squirming, honey?”

And oh, he’s figured you out completely.

You fight the urge to pout and find it hard to meet Steve’s brown eyes when he’s doing that goddamn sweet look that makes you want to tell him everything. It’s stupid. It’s stupid.

Steve tries to give you a comforting squeeze but he doesn’t seem to realise he’s squeezing the very problem; your thighs. You squirm again.

“C’mon, what is—”

“I just don’t… like my thighs that much.” You admit, swallowing back your embarrassment. You stare at the ceiling, a little annoyed that you’ve interrupted sex so you can talk about this. “And when you touch them too much… it just draws attention to them and— ugh! Can we not talk about this right now?”

Your try to press your thighs closed, feeling too exposed, but Steve doesn’t let you. His hands are gentle but firm and you look back down at him, wilting a bit at his sad and confused expression.

“What’s wrong with your thighs?” Steve asks earnestly. He sounds genuinely a bit devastated.

“Steve.”

“No, I wanna know.” He insists, hands still on your thighs, fingers pressing in. “What’s wrong with your thighs?”

You feel like you might cry — in frustration, in your own freakin’ self pity. Your voice is a weak whisper when you say, “Steve, they’re huge.”

Your eyes crush close so you don’t have to see Steve’s face, sighing to yourself and the ugly emotion wrestling with your chest. You wait for the touch on your thighs to retreat but… it doesn’t.

“And?” Steve says finally. He seems to remember his hands, fingers moving deftly to start massaging the flesh of your thighs. All the moves of a well-learned lover, devoted.

“And you don’t think that I love that?”

He bends and peppers kisses along the inside of your thigh, slow and purposeful. You can’t help how you squirm under the touch but this time Steve is expecting it. He doesn’t let up, just switches to the other thigh and murmurs against your skin, “You think that I don’t love that there’s more of you I can love on?”

You feel like, maybe, you want to cry again for a whole ‘nother reason this time. He’s so fucking nice to you.

Steve’s kisses grow more fervent, his teeth nipping at the skin — his hands slide down to your hips, grabbing at the doughy flesh appreciatively.

“Can’t believe,” he murmurs between his kisses. “You don’t think I love these— that these aren’t one of my favorite things about you.”

His kisses are so far down your inner thighs, it sets your arousal spiking high, you’re slick just inches from his hungry mouth. This time when your say his name, it’s in a whiny keen.

“Steve.”

“I got you, honey,” He assures you, his fingers gliding along the softness of your inner thighs, finding the well of slick building at your entrance. He teases at it, fingers gathering your slick and spreading it through your folds.

His kisses resume where you thigh meets your hip, easing his finger into your cunt and this time, when you start to squirm and write, it’s because of the blazing lust that aches deep in your gut. You can’t help but moan.

“Shhh, I got you.” Steve whispers, his finger fucking slowly in and slowly out. Every movement is paired with a dozen kisses along your thighs, dropping little reminders of his love. Your heart blazes nearly as hot as your cunt, especially as Steve’s murmurs continue. “Yeah, that’s it, I got you, sweet girl.”

You mewl pitifully at his words, torn between the urge to squirm at how he grips your thighs again, fingers spread wide and grip hungry — but it’s devoured up instantly when he leans down and puts his mouth on you.

His tongue is warm, poking around your clit almost experimentally. He hums, a deep nearly growling noise of content, and dives in. His lips wrap around your clit and he flicks his tongue expertly, in time with his finger pumping in and out of you, making your back arch and another whimper of his name leave your mouth.

“Steve, fuck— Steve,” you pant. One of your hand begs to be holding his but he’s too enraptured by doting on you and your particular insecurity.

Steve pulls off, reaching his thumb up to roll your clit beneath it tantalising well. He nuzzles into your v-line adoringly, planting even more kisses. “My pretty girl, mmm,” He says, voice raspy. “So good, letting me make her feel good, yeah? Letting me love on her thighs.”

You nod without thinking, just agreeing with whatever comes out his mouth. You’re getting warmer and warmer, wound tighter and tighter. This time when you go searching for his hand across the sheets, Steve spots it right away and his free hand lurches out to intertwine with yours. He gives it a quick squeeze.

“You squeeze real hard to tell me how good m’doing, okay?” He says, not really asking — because then his mouth is back on your clit, his finger in your cunt joined by another and moving with renewed vigour. A moan warbles out your throat, hips rolling in your pleasure as he plays with your body in that perfect way only he seems to know. Pleasure mounts, close to blooming. Your thighs start to tremble.

Your hold his hand is so tight, you must leave indent marks, half moons on his skin — and you don’t let up the whole entire time. Testament to how good he is, at loving you and making you feel good.

[bizarrelittlemew]

the saddest line in the trailer

at first I was too distracted by Stede's plunging neckline and gold earring to fully realize why this kept nagging at me but:

"I've been a failure my whole life."

and the way he says it:

as a matter of fact, because he fully believes it – it's an integrated part of his self-image

to comfort someone else (presumably), meaning that even though it is sort of similar to Ed's "I'm not a good person" from s1e6, this scene doesn't seem to be about Stede getting comforted – he is just throwing that line in there

with the follow-up line of "It's not so bad once you get used to it," because he is used to being called a failure by everyone around him, even when he was a kid, so much that he doesn't question it

and yeah, Stede fucks up a lot and can be a bit air-headed/naive and overestimates his abilities (Stede's super high confidence vs. shit self-esteem is a central part of his character), often to the detriment of himself and everyone around him, but his biggest "crime" growing up was simply that he was different and didn't live up to the norms of masculinity. and this is what caused him to be made to feel like a failure by the world around him.

(putting the rest under the cut because I have a lot to say apparently lmao ⬇️)

idk it is just so sad that after everything that happened at the end of season 1, he still echoes his father's and the Badmintons' words when talking about himself (and his own "I'm not a pirate, I'm an idiot" from s1e1). he still has a lot of growth to do.

and while it's good that he embraces his own shortcomings (and I hope he stays a loser in many ways <3) and the show reinforces that you don't have to be perfect to be worthy of love/that you are worthy of love just as you are, it is just. idk SO SAD to hear him say that about himself so earnestly

but do you know who doesn't let Stede self-deprecate?

THIS GUY, FROM THEIR VERY FIRST DAY TOGETHER

from telling Stede he isn't such a terrible pirate (at least he's alive), to not letting Stede call his own ideas stupid, Ed likes Stede for who he is WHILE not letting him talk bad about himself like that.

now we can't know who Stede is talking to in the scene in the trailer, just that it is someone with long dark hair:

and it could be someone else (to me it doesn't look quite like Ed's hair, but the quality/lighting makes it difficult to tell), but if it IS Ed, it has the potential for him to (once again) go against Stede's negative self-talk 😌

I am so interested to see how this scene plays out and I REALLY hope we get a scene mirroring the bathtub scene (even if it's not this one) but with the roles switched ✌️

[itwoodbeprefect]

catching up!! watching 911 season 7 episode 1!! let's goooo

the first three minutes of this episode are like "athena watched a cruise ship disaster on tv and it affected her for life. here's a cruise ship disaster we're putting on your tv (hehehe)."

i briefly stop watching mayday/air crash investigation episodes, only to STILL see a plane crash into a house. let's get greg feith and his excellent colorful ties in here asap

okay not actually technically relevant but. i googled "greg feith ties" and found this:

and the answer is no!! shut up!!

anyway. bi buck and his bi saw! (i may be too early.)

ahhh, the face i've already seen a dozen times:

buck was missed. <3

god, i love chimney. presumably this honeymoon life plan of his isn't going to work out perfectly smoothly, but it's adorable.

athena's dress is great, but this is a prime Just Talk To Bobby Please sort of worry she's having. i mean, literally, talk to him, and she'll probably find they do have things to talk about.

THREE DATES A WEEK. yeah, there we go (affectionate), that's gonna be a mess. very sweet, very stupid!

a spreadshEET. i love themmm. still very stupid though!!

"except only in one case is there underlying sexual tension [sprays using phallic looking object at hip height]" is definitely a little insane, you were all correct. also EXTREMELY a conversation that feels like they knew what they were doing, considering i now know where this is going

eddie is a nester! he nests!

christopher doesn't get this from eddie, implying he gets it from buck somehow. feelingssss.

god. buck taking save the trees a bit too figuratively:

throwing the champagne glasses to the side while you're in the pool is i guess a cool carefree no fucks given thing to do in theory, but it's going to be so much less cool and carefree when you step in the glass while walking around barefoot later. i mean, on top of the waste of a perfectly good glass

i HAD seen the angsty mom-left-us (and eddie is listening in) part of the buck&chris conversation, but not the entire part before it with buck very earnestly trying to find his way through this parenting talk eddie enlisted him for, and it's great, i love it.

"i feel like you're trying to avoid me." < thank you for Saying The Thing, bobby.

lola is resting..... this man has blood behind his ear...... this is 911...... he killed lola?

"i don't think we're gonna see much of lola any time soon." oh, she's VERY dead. and/or locked in their cabin, which would potentially be good and dramatic when the ship starts sinking

he made a list!! love you, bobby

athena going full "norman peterson murdered his wife!!!" and bobby being very convinced that he didn't and athena is making things up to avoid him is a) finally a funny turn for this subplot and b) even funnier in light of bobby's behavior in the rear window episode.

"... o-or he murdered his wife." i love when this show does comedy and the timing is just right. thank you, peter krause

one of the things about this show that i still think was a terrible writing choice is the way they killed shannon, so i'm glad they're at least dealing with the impact all of the parental shuffling and absence had on christopher. it's great that they brought the actress back for that one moment.

"did i read the spreadsheet wrong?", reminding me of the spreadsheet, and "did something else happen on a call?", meaning maddie immediately knows what would have changed chimney's mind again - maddie and chimney are flawless, no notes.

THEY took lola!! so that's how the ship activity manager or whatever that guy with the weird vibe's job is will turn out to be evil and/or in evil cahoots with lola

dongle. i haven't heard that word in forever. didn't know they were being used for bitcoin

oh, 911. just a ship in a weather-related emergency isn't enough, we also need terrorists holding everyone hostage. at times i could almost start to think i was watching h50

[livvyofthelake]

beth i know this is a really hard christmas for you so i just hope it's as good as it possibly can be and i'm sending all my love... i hope something you want to happen happens in your fanfiction whatever that is... to be honest at this point i know but there was a long time where you really got me with your redacteds. for a while i earnestly thought you were reading a lot of matt damon/ben affleck rpf. and i was like good for her but are the fics even that high quality... of course before i had considered that it was what it is but then you mentioned tenth grade and i was baffled... i was pacing back an forth i was tying red string to a corkboard you really gave me the runaround. (i did realise the tenth grade thing eventually because i LISTEN. i swear i do it just took a while...) it was similar to the himym thing the only sitcom i could think of was like the big bang theory and i was like no way would you watch that there's just no way... i did fully forget that show ever existed to be honest. anyway i thought you'd get a kick out of that. whenever you're thinking you're not being subtle enough know that i'm out there and i'm very stupid... anyway merry christmas <33

kind of dying at the idea that you thought redacted was matt damon ben affleck rpf…. that’s actually real as hell of you that’s pretty reasonable to assume for me….. imagining you pacing around thinking why the FUCK would she have been into old man rpf in tenth grade…. well we figured it out in the end <3 or i got more obvious about it. at one point i remember i got worried people would assume i was talking about bbc sherlock and i was so embarrassed by that thought i had to get more overt for a bit. it happens. anyway merry christmas to you too tee i love you 🫶🫶🫶🫶

[coffee---bean]

workn on the music and stuff

hello! been working on the score for the film. its made from feedback sounds (made by pressing electric guitar leads with my fingers) and then adding drums. the drums were recorded on my phone very loosely, just about trying to slowly increase the intensity of the score by drumming faster and faster over time. i panned one drum to one side and another to the other side, so hopefully it'll feel disorienting and immersive in something that doesn't actually exist!

then i added "jisas yu holem hand blong mi", which is probably my favourite little song. like, my automatic answer type of thing. not my favourite right now but a good answer for my favourite.

it's kind of religious, i just like chanting and clapping and i don't know what the words mean but the notes are pretty. i used a beat delay thing to distort it and make it sound like a broken brain or something. i also got a low-pitched version of it and put it underneath the entire thing, just to kind of fill the piece out and add some bassier tones to it, since the feedback sounds are higher-pitched and sporadic in the first half.

then i added a little bit of singing to give the audio a more human quality, the sense that there's a person hidden deep inside this fucked-up-ness. it's very quiet, but there is a completely unaffected voice somewhere in the right channel, singing softly.

i also added some super reverby piano organ chords. the chords are in the key of the above song, the organ was chosen cos it's sort of religion-y, and the chords were performed so that they get thicker and more dissonant and random as the score continues. it's inspired by "fittier happier" by radiohead, which is obviously 100 times better than mine, but they spent like 3 years making OK Computer so umm fuck u

i remember my friend showing me this video when i was like 13. he was like, this is so deep. and he was totally right but its funny to me cos he would totally hate radiohead now. he doesn't like rock music at all and radiohead is way too mainstream for him. just one of those weird things. why did he love THIS radiohead song out of all the radiohead songs. he's a really cool weirdo.

and then i sang a little melody over the chords, but i added a ridiculous amount of reverb and made it a little quieter and added another layer of the same performance but an octave higher, and panned them on different sides, and then made them slightly out of sync, and now the voice sounds like a weird beautiful synth. the tone of the first half is a lot more earnestly emotional. like, actually fucking me up kind of emotional. the music really does something to me now, which is great because so far this piece has felt a bit emotionally dead to me.

the tone of the music is kind of similar to this kind of thing:

david lynch often has like,, stupid and beautiful moments in his movies. there's so much unexplainable and horrifying darkness in his movies, and then sometimes there's just these equally absurd breaks in the clouds and it's really glorious and wonderful. and the music he uses is often very churchy or gospelly or very very suspended chords turning into some gigantic resolution / cadence thing. and the tone is always lifting organ energy and raw crying with happiness.

also the music from a movie like drive or really any recent nicolas winding refn thing. only god forgives also has music like this, but i guess drive has the most tender energy out of his films. this music is from a scene that goes from extremely beautiful love to extremely fucked violence almost instantly, which isn't exactly what my film is, but it's not totally off! the contrast is just a bit less exaggerated, and the transition is less sudden.

anyway the music feels mostly done. i've added it to the half-finished film and exported it, so i'll test how it sounds in the speaker-box system. i've texted someone about buying a crappy monitor, so hopefully that'll be done soon.

the last two things to do are:

figure out the monitor

animate and add in the gifs

yippee! it's gonna be tight but i think it's possible. i also think its possible it wont work. i have a kind of solution for if i cant get the monitor to work. the animation gif things are important, but i have time to do them, it'll be ok.

[zukkacore]

Please don't feel bad for putting all your thoughts here!!!! honestly i 100% cosign and agree and i would much rather just Have the Discussion than feel the need to be coy abt it in the tags anyway. Anyway fuck my old restraint to just talk abt dnd overall im gonna go full blorbo-pilled this is about my favorite sopping wet beast. I feel like there's a general posture when i try to tackle the Jace Conundrum with any reading besides the one intended by the text that I'm inherently being defensive abt him, which i guess I am? But also, y'all don't understand. If the text is telling me to point and laugh at jace for being stupid, don't worry. I do. Readily < 3 (seriously, what's the point in having a blorbo if you can't laugh at his expense a little)

That being said, I don't LOVE ascribing intent to bleem when i cannot know what is in his heart, but I just feel like im chewing on drywall bc i feel like im pointing out the watsonian and the doylist reading of the text are just coming across completely differently when it comes to jace and whenever i express that its like. Oh no you're overthinking it. It seems pretty clear (in my opinion!!!!) that the text is trying to ascribe a "jace is privileged, jace has always had an easy life, the second he came up against one smidgen of resistance he caved b/c everything has always been tee'd up for him b/c of inherent magic, and now he is teaching that elitism and complacency to his students. And also he's kinda just dense and stupid and incurious" perspective on him and why we should not therefore feel sorry for him, which i think is a partial truth (& it is probably not a coincidence that his design is that of a white blonde man etc etc) but clashes with all these like other details in the show that are being taken pretty seriously. That seems like the obvious reading for how we are Meant to absorb his storyline. Plus the fact that he's a minor character so truly it is ultimately Not That Serious. I just think that that takeaway is so hard for me to earnestly buy as thematically coherent when we're seeing all the systemic schooling components that are making the bad kids lives miserable. Gorgug's terrible awful very bad no good year trying to get the MCAT thing sorted (multiclass commonality). Adaine having financial barriers to succeeding in class (barriers to succeeding in wizardry. Another commonality). Kristen being disadvantaged bc she has to make her own meaning and likes the idea of self determining but has this very disorganized way of thinking that makes sense in her head but is hard to communicate & is not accommodated for w/in the school system (the i have a hard time applying myself but the Girls Who Get It Get it vibe. Another commonality). Fig being naturally good at many different hats but also not being a traditional studious person & straight up deciding school is not for her! "I can't, I tried" holds hands with all their struggles!

Plus i meant what i said the other day when it was like. I just don't understand how anyone can take his "we just sit around and talk abt how great having innate magic is" comment at face value when the sorcery class would realistically be dealing with so much inherent volatility. I can buy that Jace's life has always been easy. I do not buy that he could coast by on doing nothing in that class, just knowing how sorcery actually works in dnd vs. the tone the text is trying to convey. The internal logic just does not make sense in my brain that he's telling the truth. Not every sorcerer is Penelope Everpetal. Some of them are Pete Conlan. It's not the doylist intention—again, i cannot say w/ 100% certainty but i will guess with probably too much unearned confidence that the statement is meant to be taken at face value (kinda absurd anyway considering he's lying the whole season abt what his other responsibilities are anyway which makes everything he says kinda suspect but anyway)—but if we remove intentionality from the analysis, it reads way more like something he is saying to be cavalier or nonchalant. (Friendly unassuming jace is a facade truthers literally rise up)

Nevermind the fact that I think "sit around all day and talk about how great having innate magic is" is not nearly as clear cut a "wow this guy sucks at what he does" statement as the paralanguage is trying to convey. Like we both agree sorcery is about self confidence, self control, etc. I made the theater teacher comparison for a reason. Some kids cannot be taught acting technique because the entire period is spent just getting them comfortable being on stage. And the risks of it being with kids with innate magic is like. Infinitely higher! Especially when they're coming into this school potentially viewing their magic as a burden or a danger. i also see this discussion with like. librarians and just getting kids to Start Reading. Like you have to meet them where they're at. You can't throw shakespeare at a kid who hates reading, if you want them to approach the subject with any kind of excitement, and you DON'T shame or tease them when pick up graphic novels bc that could be the bridge for their momentum. And i LOVE analysis, I'm such a turbo nerd and art rules are made up but at the same time learning about forms helps artists better articulate their aims! If i could throw every fourteen year old into reading shakespeare with excitement by analyzing the form, i would. But like. that's not how it works. And that's not a pure absolving of his teaching style. This is why my "he's great with the freshman, and terrible with the seniors" joke is a joke, but it feels true in spirit, to me anyway. Like, once these kids know what they're doing, they need a little more, and imo due to the limitations of his perspective, Jace cannot provide that. The girls who get it, get it. Schrodinger's good/bad teacher jace thesis is my truth. But this is not me saying my interpretation is fact or the only way to read that line, this is me asserting that the paralanguage is aiming to convey one reading (jace is a bad teacher), but i think the word choice leaves a lot more room for varied interpretation.

Btw i 100% agree that with the impracticality of the wizard multi-class, it feels like there could be an emotional reason for him wanting to multi-class. That feels like a logical conclusion. I think Jace tends to be written off as incurious, which i think is mostly true but literally "i can't i tried" indicates that was not a lifelong trait, at least to me. I think it's interesting when i talk to jace agnostics (aka my beloved friends irl who endure my bullshit) and to cite someone specifically (sorry if im throwing u under the bus), a friend said that they basically chalked the reasoning up to arrogance. Which i guess coheres with what the intended takeaway is meant to be for Jace. basically "i'm already good at everything i do and born naturally gifted so why not do this other thing just to prove i can" which. Makes sense. And I love when jace sucks so I'm not even opposed to it. But I do think ascribing arrogance to his character based on the handful of things he's said is like... It's definitely there, but we also see so little of him that even arrogance doesn't feel like a completely definitive character trait? Like. I think the reason arrogance gets ascribed to him is bc of the "how great innate magic is" comment and the calling wizards stinky thing. It's all we have to go on but it's also so sparse. And again, i'm doing a cringefail apologetic restorative reading of everything he says bc i like him, but i don't think those two interactions are enough to fully condemn him for arrogance. Maybe that's just me. I do think its interesting to see people's gut reactions to the "i cant, I tried" joke. Bc my friend was basically like "oh yeah that's just a natural extension of him being a conceited asshole who thinks he can do everything but has never had to work for it". Honestly, fair. Meanwhile maybe bc i was already biased i was like wow. Deeply pitiable. Deeply Baffling. Understandably played for humor, but feels like such an off the cuff joke that has implications that are NOT grappled with. And I just think we're primed to take Adaine's side in that interaction b/c obviously she's a protagonist, even tho saying "you could take a level of wizardry" to a sorcerer is kinda baffling! Little does bleem know how sick in the head that one line made me. I genuinely was such a jace agnostic before this.

I think i'm just a little too close to this issue to be fair abt it tho. As someone who DESPISES incuriosity, I get the whole Wizard understanding the fundamentals of the universe thing. As someone who is a very pedantic and obsessed with precision of lanugage and goes on these like weird riz spirals abt everything, I do not personally relate to the Girls Who Get it Get it thing (i do have problems with overexplaining but again that's bc im anxious about my precision of language) but my best friend is someone who struggles with brain fog in a way that they often feel very frustrated by their limitations with communication and are just like "why can't i just gesture wildly. You get it. you get it. right", maybe i just feel for him more than average. ALSO not to be cringefail but yeah, I got told i was bright as a kid then bombed my sophmore year of high school honors b/c i wasn't used to working for things. What about it.

Hi do you. By any chance want to expand on both 1) Sorcerer Wizard and the dichotomy and 2) Sorcerer trans thoughts??? Bc BOY I would LOVEEEEE to hear them if you’re willing to!!!

Hiiiii beloved old man yaoi mutual anyway sorry this took a hot sec bc I do have more thoughts on this but tragically they’re kinda formless and incoherent. Prepare for the unorganized paragraph monster. Anyway I’m like pretty bad at understand dnd as a system but I have seen other ppl who are actually better versed than me express like. A sorcerer / wizard multi class is pretty counterintuitive. And like, if that’s part of the character arc that’s fine, obviously with Gorgug it was an intentional character choice and they made a profound point of of him doing unexpected and not typically “optimal” just bc he liked it & bc of that he has a perspective on rage AND artificing different from everyone else. Idk if im over explaining the obvious with the like, oh wizardry is abt understanding the fundamentals and components of the arcane it’s abt studying the world whereas sorcery is abt control and understanding of the self etc etc. like described as the ability to “project one’s will” into the world and the meta magic mechanic is a way to actualize like. Being able to literally change the rules of magic (honestly very interesting and cool imo).

Like, I don’t think they HAVE to be opposed in terms of what they’re doing, if you think abt it like. Art rules ya know? Like you gotta learn the fundamentals and the rules before you can break them. So I could see that being a reason to study wizardry. And if your character just has a natural curiosity than sure. But also, I GET the reason why it’s an impractical build and a weird choice for a character beat bc the drawbacks of losing high level sorcery aren’t really compensated for in getting some wizard levels. Esp bc they’re different casting modifiers or whatever, int vs charisma. Like you have to have a high modifier in both to even make it worth it. AND on a character beat level, not to make this JUST abt our favorite sopping wet cat Jace stardiamond but like. Wouldn’t it be kinda counterintuitive to learn all these rules and fundamentals of magic and everything in those classes is saying THIS is how it works meanwhile there is something inherent in you that could change that? And I was like oh haha trans bc it’s abt saying like oh something essential is actually less rigid than you think + projecting your will is in my mind kinda like the ability to self-determine?

At the same time the counterpoint to this is that sorcery is about inherent magic so that IS like oh this is essential to your person. At the same time I feel like the distaste toward sorcerery bc it’s inherent or essential is kinda unfair bc like? Yeah divine right is not real, someone being inherently divinely powerful is not a thing in real life but also how different is that from the divine right of being a chosen one for a deity (like. Not to go toooo into fantasy high but Kristen IS a chosen one). So I get the counterpoint that sorcerery is bad and essentialist but eh? Like take it for what it represents on a thematic level, don’t take it so literally.

Not to backtrack but I don’t think self knowledge vs worldly knowledge HAVE to be fundamentally opposed, but I do think one class transitioning into the others would be really difficult bc it’s someone learning a system and realizing actually it’s bullshit and broken & malleable vs. someone who intuitively GETS that rules are kinda just made up and the education system is saying no this is truth. Despite everything about you being a contradiction to that. Like, I feel like a sorcerer is coming into low level wizardry learning “you can’t do 1 - 2” and intuitively they go but you can? But at that level it’s like no, you’re not ready to teach someone just being introduced to those concepts abt negative numbers abt imaginary numbers etc etc etc. (similar w biology. Like yeah we all took 7th grade bio where we learned there are 2 sexes. But actually the human body a lot more varied & complicated than that. These are rigid categories we made up to “better” understand things or articulate a certain idea but they also cause systemic harm) Also. There are some particles that behave differently when observed. I respect the wizard’s quest for knowledge as someone who is a turbo nerd. I respect it so hard. But also. I get why riz spirals abt it. It’s hard to be bleem coded and love complete taxonomies when you know the world is a lot more complicated than that. I get why a sorcerer wouldn’t be able to hack it. Again not to make this abt blorbo from our shows but the failed to wizard multiclass thing opened SUCH a can of words in my brain…..

[omar-rudeberg]

List your favorite romantic lines/quotes from young royals for us ❤️

So. There are so many cute and romantic moments and I’m pretty sure I’ve talked about the usual suspects in some of my many many thoughts already. I can also see you’ve done the blog rounds and I agree with the others’ comments, so I’ve chosen three (3) slightly unusual ones for your reading pleasure and I will try to be brief! 

( ...I won’t be brief, but if you know me you know this already. These aren’t very well-thought out though so apologies for inconsistencies or confusing metaphors!)

ONE - “This is about us now.”

Give me creative license with this one as it’s not technically a quote, but. This moment, where we hear the movie voice intone “This is about us now.” right as we have Wilhelm and Simon smiling down at their intertwined hands, grinning so surreptitiously at each other, hearts all giddy and palms sweaty?

God, the epitome of young romance.

Yes, my babies. Yes, it’s all about the two of you. It’s allowed to be. This is what youth is for. (Trippin’ on skies, sippin’ waterfalls; a truth so loud you can’t ignore)

Side note that I also personally love this scene SO MUCH because it’s the first sequence I really looked at and thought... okay, they’ve chosen those lines for a reason. They’ve chosen that lighting for a reason. Those camera angles. This is all done for a reason. It was the first time I marvelled at the unparalleled minds that created this gorgeous show for us.

TWO - “Thanks for rescuing me yesterday.”

Ugh. The gorgeous honeymoon phase they have exactly not-long-enough-in.

Wilhelm says: 

“Thanks for rescuing me yesterday.”

Wilhelm literally means:

“Thanks for getting my stupid ass back into my own bed so some rando doesn’t take a picture of the high-as-a-kite Crown Prince on some random soccer field at a godforsaken hour of the morning, and I’m put in solitary confinement for the rest of my youth.”

But - Wilhelm also means:

“Thank you for being there yesterday. Thank you for being there before, and always. I read your messages while I was at home after Erik’s passing. I cherished them. Thank you for showing me I can love. Thank you for showing me I deserve love. (Thank you for letting me love you, like that, like last night.) Thank you for rescuing me from the future of a fancy Felice-esque face I would have thrust upon my arm before I knew I was allowed to love someone that looks like you. That cares like you. That makes fun of me like you do.”

However, Wilhelm mostly, earnestly means:

“Thank you for rescuing me from me.”

(If that’s not romantic - if that’s not love, I want my money back.)

THREE - “And you can take all the time you need. And I respect that.”

I. Love. This. Line. So. Fucking. Much. 

Look, they’re breaking up here so is this line jaw-droppingly sappy? ...No. But, it’s romantic. Stay with me. Simon’s head over heels in love with this boy. He loves spending time with him, loves talking to him, loves kissing him, loves his energy, his silly little flyaway fringe. Simon loves Wilhelm so much, but he can see (where Wilhelm can’t yet) the short-term future. The hiding, the lying, the repressing, the forgetting, the resentment, distress, distrust, hurt. The potential for further tapes, more gossip, more rumours, more outright denials, more fodder for the palace to be involved in. The potential for pain. 

He’s protecting himself here, yes, of course. But he’s also protecting Wilhelm. He’s protecting Wilhelm the way Wilhelm isn’t protecting himself. And knows it without Wilhelm communicating it to him, the overly perceptive little sunflower that he is.

Simon’s worked out that Wilhelm saying one thing and doing the opposite regarding the denial means he’s not... sure. Of anything. Of what to say, of who he wants to be, how he wants to act. And with this line, Simon is saying I know you don’t know, I’m sorry, it’s difficult, and it’s going to take time, and he’s cradling this tough truth so gently with that’s okay, it’s okay to not know, it’s okay that it’s difficult, it’s allowed to take time. He respects this as Wilhelm’s reality.

I also think... and maybe he’s not consciously looking that far ahead... but somewhere deep down I believe Simon knows this is the only way for the two of them to possibly have a future. And he wants that dearly. There can be no sustained coming together if they don’t respect what the other brings to the table. Wilhelm, with his request here, has communicated that he doesn’t understand or fully respect Simon’s end of the deal here (and the poor thing’s got a lot on his mind, yes, but that’s no way to treat a loving partner). 

But Simon with this line implies: I know you, I love you, I respect you, but no - you’ve gotta work out how to respect me to be in this. He’s pulling apart so they can crash together like oppositely charged magnets, when the time is right. When the growing’s done. 

He’s opened a deep wound, yes, but cleanly. And he trusts, I believe, that a gifted surgeon will be along soon to fix the broken organs and stitch them both back up.

How tragically romantic.

[quickspinner]

Ruin It

Another one for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers sprint challenge! The prompt was:  

Person A: Listen I don’t want to ruin our friendship but I really want to kiss y-- Person B: Ruin it

The challenge rules are 3 15-minute writing sprints and 24 hours to edit. I took a little extra editing time because it was late by the time I finished and I didn't want to do anything stupid for lack of sleep. Also, I sprinted everything from the phrase "Ruin It" onwards and then ended up adding a ridiculous number of words to put together the setup at the beginning as part of my "editing" phase and effectively doubled the length of what I originally sprinted. Hopefully it's not too complicated. I'm trying to re-embrace the thought that sprint fics don't have to complicated or polished; I've let myself get hung up on some things in the last few challenges, so this week was about just letting go.

ANYWAY I had sort of a childhood friends to lovers thought in mind as I wrote this, and I hope you enjoy! You can also check out the sprint challenge AO3 collection here to read this and other works. 

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Marinette said enviously, watching a group of kids run along the top of the short stone wall framing the park. 

“Why haven’t you?” Luka asked. “It’s not very high.” He gestured to where the wall ended in graduated steps down to the ground. “Wouldn’t be hard to get up on it, either.”  

She gave him a look. “Because I’m a grown-up.”

Luka snorted. “Says who?” A woman some distance from them called out “Lunch!” and kids jumped off the wall, cheering as they ran off. Luka grinned and took her hand, tugging her up off the blanket they’d been sitting on. “Come on.”

“Luka!” she laughed, but didn’t resist as he towed her to the wall. “What if a patrol sees us?” 

“What are they going to do, fine us?” Luka rolled his eyes, and flashed her a wicked grin that she somehow felt in her bones. “They can put it on my tab.” He held Marinette’s hand as she stepped up on the low part of the wall, and then he walked alongside it as she stepped up to the next highest piece, and then the next, raising his hand at every level to keep hold of hers. The wall was only about waist-height on Luka, but it felt huge to Marinette, standing on top of it. She giggled as she looked down at him. “Now you know how I feel walking next to you,” she teased. 

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Luka laughed. When they reached a place where the wall dead-ended into the higher terrace beyond, Marinette carefully turned around, making sure to get a grip on Luka with her other hand before she let go with the one he’d been holding. The wall might not be all that high, but she had a habit of getting distracted at just the wrong moment, and no fall was better than even a short fall. With her luck, even a short fall would be dangerous.

Not that she was worried. Luka never let her fall. She gave him Luka a quick smile to let her know she was ready, and they began the walk back to the end with the graduated steps. “How do they expect kids not to climb on a wall when they make it this easy?” she asked, looking down at Luka with a laugh. 

Marinette had just taken the first step down when some yelling boys startled a flock of pigeons, sending them hurtling right towards the wall in their flight to higher ground. Startled, Marinette overbalanced, and with a yelp she began to topple, but Luka was already there, arms around her waist, half catching, half lifting her off the wall. Her flailing arms wrapped around his neck automatically and she clung to him for a heart-stopping moment where she thought they would both go over, but Luka’s grip on her was firm and his stance rock-solid. 

“You okay?” he asked, amusement in his voice. 

“Yeah,” she said into his hair, embarrassed. “Sorry.” 

Luka gave a quiet huff of amusement, head tilted back to look up at her, and Marinette pouted down at him. “Are you going to put me down?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” Luka grinned. “Maybe I won’t. Maybe you’re safer like this.” 

She was tempted to kick him, but her dangling feet were level with his knees, rather than his shins, and she was afraid of hurting him. His grin widened at her predicament, but his eyes were full of affection, and she forgave him for laughing at her. She couldn’t help it. She wasn’t going to let him get away with it though. She just...needed a credible threat. Her frustration must have showed on her face because his breath fanned over his face as he laughed silently. Her eyes flicked down to his lips.

“Put me down or I’ll kiss you,” she threatened. “Then our friendship will be ruined forever and you’ll regret everything.” 

Luka’s eyes widened, and he immediately set her feet on the ground. Her grin of triumph faded at the look on his face. “That’s not funny, Marinette,” he muttered, ducking out of her arms and taking a few steps away. 

Marinette blinked, and then bit her lip. “Sorry. Sorry, that was stupid.” She wrapped her arms around herself and backed up, sitting down on one of the lower steps of the wall. “Luka, I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t be that stupid.” 

For a moment, he said nothing. Marinette sat miserably waiting for him to work through whatever he was thinking about, calling herself ten kinds of idiot in her head.

“Is that…” Her head jerked up as he spoke, but his back was still to her, and he seemed to be struggling to get the words out. “Is that something you think about?” 

Marinette frowned. “What?”

“Kissing me,” he clarified, without turning. “Ruining our friendship?”

“Oh.” Marinette felt heat rush into her cheeks. She was really in it now. How could she have let that slip? “Well...sometimes, yeah. I know it’s stupid, you haven’t seen me that way since we were kids, and I don’t want to ever screw up our friendship. Just—” Just what? How could she admit to him that sometimes the light caught the angles of his face just right, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. That sometimes he would catch her staring and his lips would curve in a questioning smile and she couldn’t think about anything else for days afterwards. How could she admit even a fraction of what she felt for him, without making things weird?

Weird- er . She’d already managed weird. Damn it.  

“Just?” he prompted. 

Marinette squirmed uncomfortably. “It’s not a big deal. Just, sometimes I think about kissing you. And then I think what a stupid idea it is and I know you haven’t seen me that way since we were kids, and I’d never actually do it because it would ruin every—” 

Luka turned around and took a quick step towards her. “Ruin it.” 

Marinette blinked. “Wh-what?” 

“Ruin it,” Luka repeated, taking another step. “Do it. If tearing down what we have means building something new with you then give me the fucking hammer and let’s go.” 

Marinette stared at him, hardly believing what she was hearing. “You’d...you’d give up everything we have,” she said, tone going accusing. “For a kiss?”

“No,” he said, kneeling in front of her to take her hands. “I’d give up everything we have for a chance. What do we have, Marinette, that can’t be made better? If you want to kiss me, and I want to kiss you, if we both want more than what we have, then why shouldn’t we try?” 

“Because—” Marinette floundered. “Because what if it all went wrong, and then we couldn’t—couldn’t talk to each other anymore, and, and we’d be—” She frowned. “Wait, you want to kiss me?” 

“Every damn day,” he told her earnestly. “Every time you eat a macaroon or steal my coffee or laugh or pout or—pretty much anything, really.”   

Oh shit , she thought, taking in the tight lines of his face, the steady, intense gaze of his eyes. He’s serious . “But…” Marinette’s head whirled. “But—Luka, what if—If everything went wrong—I wouldn’t have anyone to—what would I do without you, Luka?” she practically wailed.

“What if you never had to find out?” he asked, reaching up to cradle her face with one hand. “What if it didn’t go wrong, Marinette? What if I could love you without holding back? What if we weren’t spending so much energy trying not to want each other? Is that what’s been holding you back, all this time? As if you could ever lose me, after all we’ve been through.” 

Marinette stared at him, speechless. Of course he knew , she thought numbly. It was Luka. But she didn’t know, or didn’t let herself know that she knew, and her reality was reeling. 

Luka let his hand fall from her face, and wrapped both of his hands around hers instead, his voice soft and coaxing and full of a hope that made her ache. “Ruin it, Marinette. We’ll make something new out of it. It might not be the same, but I’ve seen the things you create and I’m not afraid. Whatever we become, it’ll be something we made together. How could something like that be bad?” He took a breath, and looked up at her. His hands were shaking, she realized. “So ruin it.” He grinned. “Hell, ruin me , I don’t mind. I love being your friend, but...I want to see what else we can make together.” 

She’d never seen his eyes like this, she thought numbly as she stared back at him. She thought she knew him so well, just like he knew her. She’d never been able to read him the way he read her, but she thought...she thought she knew him. She didn’t know this , the intensity, the pleading, the...desperation. She didn’t know this part of him. The part that wanted . Luka didn’t crave things. Luka let things come and go, he didn’t get worked up over things. Luka was willing to take what you gave him and be content. Luka was a passionate person, sure, but not ambitious. He didn’t want things. 

He wanted her. This was the first time that she’d ever seen how much...that he’d let her see how much. She should have been frightened, she thought. It should have scared her to see him looking at her with so much earnestness. It was terrifying, when it was anybody else.

But this was Luka, and how could she be scared of Luka? How could she, when he’d finally dared to ask for what he wanted? Not because he couldn’t stand it any longer but because she had finally admitted, to him and to herself, that she wanted it too.  

Just like that she knew she had passed the boundary whether she meant to or not. She would break Luka’s heart in this moment if she refused him, and her own in the process. Their friendship wouldn’t be the same after this. They would have to make something new, one way or another. She could turn him down, and hope that the awkward would pass over time. Hope that he could forgive her for being a coward. 

But…

She thought she knew him, but now she could see how much he was holding back. She wanted that secret knowledge of him, the part of himself he kept hidden away. She wanted his secret passions and his dreams and the things he treasured up in his heart. Not to take, but to receive, to be given freely, to earn each one with the steadiness of her...love.

Love.

Marinette looked down at their hands in her lap. Slowly she moved her hands so that they were clasping his. He was silent now, waiting. How long had he been waiting for her? When she leaned forward, Luka closed his eyes and tilted his head to meet her, but he didn’t move beyond that until her lips pressed, trembling and tentative, into his. Only then did he move with her, press into her, his hands tightening on hers so hard it almost hurt. She moved his hands to her hips and then carded her own fingers through his hair as they kissed and kissed again. 

She loved him, and she was terrified as she finally let herself realize how much, but…this was Luka. 

Luka never let her fall. 

Fiction Master Post

[internalsealpanic]

The Night is Young part 1

Summary:  There is nothing better for self control than chains A/n: This is extremely self-indulgent and spiteful because I looked on ao3 and only say 2 Talia fics. Literally what the hell. Thank you for @jd-loves-fiction and @littleredwing89 for proof reading warnings: bondage, dom/sub, edging, oral, uh there’s a bit of a twist at the end

masterlist

You kneel in front of Talia-- weight resting on your feet, back straight, and mouth zipped shut. She looks down at you approvingly as she sips from her champagne. Your skin buzzes as she marks every inch of it with those green eyes.

The large room shrinks in your periphery, your focus devoted only to the woman in front of you as you rest your face against her knee. The room is big, bigger than anything you could afford on your own. The presidential suite of the hotel you're meeting at is, naturally, the only one befitting someone like her. She looks completely content at her place on the edge of the bed, clad only in a silk robe that you can very nearly see-through. It drapes over the velvet curves of her body so gracefully that you have no doubt it was tailor-made. Only the best for an Al Ghul and their pets.

Talia sets her drink down, calling your attention with a tug of the chain wrapped loosely around your neck. You kiss her knee, not breaking eye contact.

"What do you want pet?" She asks, angling your head away from her skin by tightening her grip on the chain.

You plant a sloppy kiss against her thigh. You contemplate how you should phrase it so you can get what you want, careful to piece the syllables together into something Talia will want to hear. "I want to make you cum, Mistress." You nip at her thigh.

"How do you intend to do that, pet?" She hums, her ring digging into the underside of your jaw, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. You smile.

Bending your body, you begin with her feet. It's only natural to start your worship there. You brush chaste kisses against her ankles and the golden bands decorating them. The kisses grow hungrier and sloppier as you trail up her calf to her thighs. Your teeth graze against her hot flesh wanting to leave marks but holding yourself back when you don't hear her express approval. Talia threads her hand through your hair and breathes a soft note of approval. You feel the coil in your stomach tighten, elated by the way she's reacting.

You bend down again repeating the process with her other leg, leaving a trail of wet saliva glistening against her flawless dark skin. There's a smile stretching across her burgundy lips. "Good girl." It's humiliating how wet you get just from those two words.

Talia spreads her legs wider, tugging you forward.  Your hot breath fans against her outer lips. You pepper her lips with kisses and kitten licks, watching as Talia leans back, tugging her robe a little higher. You move to press your lips to her, applying shy licks to it and kissing it tenderly. It earns you soft pants and another tug at your chain.

You take the hint and begin licking in earnest. Her soft pants turn into whines then into Ah-ah-ahs that send a thrill up your spine.

You slide Talia's thighs over your shoulder to change the angle to get in deeper. She tastes so sweet. You close your eyes, kneading her thighs as you continue to service her with your tongue.

"Pet, just like that, yes."

Her voice sounds breathy. You feel delirious. You stop lapping your tongue inside her, replacing the wet muscle with two fingers. You kiss her clit gently as you slide your fingers in and out of her. You hum against her, letting your own moans drag one out of her. She wraps a leg around your shoulders bringing you closer. You hum fucking your finger in and out of her.

She was close. You can feel it from the way her walls flutter around your fingers. You pull your fingers out, sliding your tongue insider her. She grinds against your face, her hand sliding to the back of your neck. You fuck her with your tongue roughly as her back arches. Your tongue is flooded with the taste of her. It makes you drunk and you're hungry for more.

You hold her in place eating her through her orgasm. Vaguely, you hear her say something but your mind is too preoccupied. You're sure you can easily get another orgasm from her if you keep up your pace.

Your scalp stings as she yanks you off of her.

You're panting heavily, looking at her confused. Talia's green eyes shine with anger, their hues that of the waters from the Lazarus Pits. You're keenly aware you've fucked up but your mind is too hazy with lust to figure out exactly how.

"Do you like ignoring my orders, pet?" Talia growls, her voice rough with lust.

You blink. The words catch up with your brain. Talia loosens her grip. Without the stinging in your scalp, you can admire her rumpled appearance, the way her robe slides off your shoulder showing off her breasts and her muscular stomach.

Talia grabs your chin, her rings digging into your skin. "You're feeling particularly petulant today, aren't you pet?"

No, your brain just doesn't work when she's dressed so enticingly. You tell her as much in the sweet honeyed voice that usually gets you out of trouble.

The irate look on Talia's face tells you it doesn't work so do the rings digging into your skin.  "That trick might work on Wilson and Beloved but I assure you. It won't work on me."

You were hoping it wouldn't. You may love the way Bruce spoils you endlessly or the way Slade's punishments always ends with you cumming around his cock over and over again but the way Talia disciplines you and uses you hits different. You shiver. You bite back a sob. There was more?

You feel the bed shift. The weight on your thigh lifts.  Something warm hover over your face. Something warm and wet. You open your mouth. You grin feeling Talia rest her weight on your face. You wait for her to say something. It takes a long moment but Talia finally gives you her permission.

You lap at her core earnestly, enjoying how she grinds against your face spreading her juices all over it.  "You like being used, don't you?" She purrs, her thighs putting pressure around your head. You gasp against her when a buzzing between your legs starts. "Faster, pet." She pants. You whimper against her core but comply. The vibrator inside you buzzes more fervently as you lap more eagerly at her core.

You try to picture her above you based on the sounds she's making. You can imagine her tweaking her nipples as you work her core. You moan, lips vibrating.

You slow your pace down just to catch a breather but the lessening sensation between your legs dissuades you. You switch to a different tactic.  You plunge your tongue inside her drawing figure 8s as you hum. Your lips vibrate and you hear her moans grow louder. Talia cums with a growl.

You let out a relieved breath when she lifts herself off your face. "Thank you." You say voice hoarse.

"We're not done yet, pet. We're going to play a game."

She removes your blindfold. She traces the line of your jaw forcing you to look deep into her lush green eyes. "Give me a number, pet. Between 1 to 10."

You frown confused but not eager to test her patience.  "3?" You guess. You whine when the vibrations in your pussy grow weaker.

"Try again pet"

"5?"

The vibrations lower even more. "You want to make me happy, don't you? " She coos smoothing your hair out of your face. You struggle for breath. You just want her to end your misery. You nod.

"Good. Now, try again." She encourages, brushing your lips against yours.

"7- Ah!" You moan as Talia steadily raises the powers. A strangled moan from the closet accompanies your own and you nearly jump out of your skin from your surprise. Talia laughs. Her hand is tracing shapes into your thigh. “Oh pet, did you think we were alone?”

You figured but she did say she had a surprise for you. You shake your head. She kneels onto the bed running her fingers over your feet and up over her ankles. Your mind is flimsy and formless. Your thoughts are like bubbles in the air popping one after the other. You purr under Talia’s touches and the shockwaves of pleasure you’re getting from the vibrator.

“Listen to how cute our pet sounds, Beloved,” Talia says, stroking the side of your face. You turn your head to the side. You can see movement in the closet. The shifting of shadows. If you had to hazard a guess, Talia’s probably got Bruce tied up and, probably, gagged. “Doesn't she just sound adorable when she's being obedient?” There’s another remote in her hand. She drapes herself on top of you lazily. You love the way her skin feels against yours. You hear the click of the remote followed by a loud groan from Bruce. You turn your head. The dial is pushed to a 7. Oh. You regret not picking a higher number.

“This is what she should sound like, but you and Wilson are too soft with her.” Talia says, stroking up your inner thighs.  “I know exactly what she needs,” Talia kisses the inside of your knee. You whine. “And I know exactly how she needs it too.” You hear another click and the buzzing inside you spreads throughout your body. Your nerves light up from the stimulation.  You’re whimpering Talia’s name repeatedly, shuddering under the intensity. Talia is grinding her body against yours.  You think you hear yourself beg but the syllables come out garbled as you cum.

You’re panting and dizzy but content.  “Thank you.” You manage between breaths. Talia kisses your forehead in response. You’re not stupid enough to tease her about the gesture. At least, you’re not stupid enough to do it tied up.

You hear another movement from the closet. You turn to look at Bruce. Through a sliver, you can see bright blue eyes staring at both of you intensely.

“What do you think, pet? Should we let him join our fun?” Talia asks, tracing a nail down your chest.

You look between her and Bruce and an evil thought forms in your mind. As innocently as you can, you say: “Can we reward him with a show first mistress? He has been so patient after all.” You hear a strangled noise from the closet.  

Talia’s lips curve upwards. “What a wonderful idea,” She says, kissing your collarbone. “We both know how much our beloved loves to watch.”

Oh, Bruce was going to kill you.

Talia removes the vibrator first, making you moan. She then unfastens the spreader bar. Finally, she releases your hands. Your wrists sting, feeling raw in the cool air. She kisses your wrist. You slide your thigh between her legs, rubbing it against her core. She hums delighted with your initiative. You gently wrap your hand around the back of Talia’s neck guiding her lips to yours in a gentle melding of lips.  She licks your bottom lip. You open your mouth readily for her. She grins taking the invitation. She kneads your chest and you put more pressure between her thighs.

Bruce growls against what you assume was a ball gag. You break the kiss, turning your head towards him. The sliver has grown and you can see the hungry look in his eyes.

“Don’t look at him whilst we’re playing pet,” Talia says, tilting your chin back towards you, “this is just for me and you.” She strokes her palms down your waist. You close your eyes ignoring the pained mewl from Bruce and focusing on the warm body on top of you. Talia kisses you again. You nibble her lip, groping one of her breasts.  She kisses you deeply. Her thigh presses against your core as your bodies grind against each other. She feels so wet and warm against you.  Your body is a live wire of sensations. You can feel Talia’s nipples brush against yours as your bodies move against each other. The sound of your moans mixing in the open air echoes in your skull like a lewd opera. Talia kisses your jaw, your neck, leaving bite marks on your neck and collar bone. You revel in the warm kisses pressed against your skin.

Another desperate keen erupts from the closet.  You sneak a glance at Bruce even though Talia told you not to. Your mouth dries when you see his throbbing cock. His cock was erect against his abs, leaking precum down his long girthy length. You lick your lips. Your want to taste him was blatant and it was impossible to miss.  

Talia kisses your pulse. “Shall we let him join, pet?”

You nod vigorously.

She looks down at you amused. “He has been so good for us after all, hasn’t he?” She says, sliding her thumb against your swollen lips. “Why don’t you pleasure him with that talented mouth whilst I untangle him?”  Talia pushes herself off the bed. You almost call her back, finally feeling the way heat dissipates from your body in her absence.  

You try to follow her on wobbly legs and only manage to fall to the floor. You’re flushed with embarrassment. Well, this isn’t the first time you’ve been fuck thoroughly enough to take away your ability to walk. It isn’t even the first time for Talia either. Talia (taking pity on you or proud that she’d fucked you stupid) guides Bruce’s hulking figure to the bed. You take in his disheveled appearance, his so carefully put together appearance in shambles. His hair is a mess with strands sticking out while others cling to his forehead through sweat. His hands are tied behind his back, pushing out his chest covered in hickeys and scratches. It seems they occupied themselves while waiting for you. Bruce’s teeth dig into the ball gag. At least, you’re not the only one frustrated. You crawl towards him as Talia begins to untie him. Pushing up between his legs, you look up at him innocently. You can see guilt forming in his brow. You can just tell Bruce was already thinking of what gift to get you for going along with something less than savory. He’ll definitely have a heart attack if you told him about the things the other two have had you do or have done to you regularly.

You knead the meat of his thighs; even at rest, they felt powerful.  Pressing sloppy kisses along his inner thighs, you pointedly ignore his throbbing cock. There’s a strained noise and a shift in posture that conveys his frustration. You rest your cheek against his knee, fingers sliding up and down his cock experimentally. “Sir, please let me suck your cock.” You purr. The lewd vulgarity of your request hits him like a ton of bricks. His skin flushes a hot shade of pink. Bruce’s cock twitches in approval but you wait patiently for verbal approval.

“Answer her beloved.” Talia says, removing the gag from his mouth.

“Please, Daddy.” You say, nibbling at his inner thigh, your panting breath fanning against his hardened cock. If Bruce still had any restraint left, it crumples. He swallows, mouth feeling painfully dry. “Go ahead, sweetheart.” He says, smiling down at you indulgently.

You lick a long strip up the length of his cock, lapping up the precum you’ve been dying to taste. You kiss the head of his shaft. Humming, you suck on the tip before opening your mouth to take him in. Bruce puts a hand on the back of your neck but with your hand, you guide it to wrap around your throat, so he can feel his cock sliding down your throat. Bruce bites back a  curse, thrusting his hips up. You gag but keep his hand firmly in place with your own. Bruce could easily move his hand but he doesn’t.

Talia kisses along his shoulders. “She’s very talented.” Talia says, rubbing circles on Bruce’s chest.

“And well trained.” Bruce comments, pressing a kiss to Talia’s lips.

“No thanks to you,” she sneers, “or Wilson.”

“It’s just too hard not to spoil her.” Bruce says, pushing hair out of your face as you continue to swallow his shaft. You look at him and his cock twitches deep inside your throat.

“She is adorable,” Talia agrees, hands traveling down Bruce’s chest. His breath hitches when she starts playing with his balls, caressing the tender flesh with her skilled fingers. “It’s ok, Beloved. Our darling pet can take what you’ve got. Isn’t that right, Pet?”

You moan around Bruce’s shaft in response and it doesn’t take long for him to cum. You swallow his cum, making sure he sees the movement of your throat. “Thank you, Sir.” You say, licking your lips.  Some of it dribbles down your chin to your chest.  You scoop some up with your fingers and lick them off. Bruce looks like he’s going to die. You may be enjoying this too much.

“Let's clean you up, pet.” Talia says, kneeling beside you. Bruce’s shoulders slacken looking relieved. Oh, this poor bastard. Talia starts licking your chest. She trails down, leaving hickeys in her wake. She suckles on one of your nipples, swirling her tongue around it. You let out cries of pleasure that have Bruce biting his lip.  She let you go with a satisfied “All done”. Bruce is ready to keel over as he walks over to both of you.

“Let’s get you two properly cleaned up.” He says, glaring at Talia who looks understandably unapologetic.

Bruce helps you into the large tub, your legs still useless from the evening’s activities.  You and Talia curl up against Bruce’s broad chest while Talia kisses your bruised wrists. You stroke her cheek with Bruce pressing a kiss on your hairline.

“So Pet, when were you going to tell us about the other.”

You give Talia a genuinely confused look. “I thought you guys knew.”

“We didn’t.” Bruce confirms, looking very torn.

“I assume Wilson has no clue.”

“Considering neither of you did… Likely not.” You say, kissing Bruce’s shoulder.

Talia looks angry. Not as angry as she could be considering you really had no clue that they didn’t.  “Pet, some of us don’t like sharing our toys...”

“It’s nothing personal.” You say, stroking Talia’s face. You realize that came out terrible, so you lean forward to place a chaste kiss to her lips. You’re honestly just unable to keep your genuine affection at bay at this point.

She seems placated when she rests her head against Bruce’s chest. Bruce who has been surprisingly quiet.

“Please stop moving.” He groans and you notice now that your legs have been brushing a certain appendage. You turn his face to yours and kiss him softly. “What’s the matter, Bruce? We’re all having fun and the  night is still young.”

Bonus:

“Sir, your guest has arrived. Are we to expect you soon?”

Slade taps his finger against the lacquered arms rests of the seat. “No, no. I’ll still be a few days out. Could you keep an eye on her for me?”

“Of course. Of course, sir. It’s just....”

“Spit it out. I don’t have all night.”

“Well, we’ve seen your guest with a few of our other high profile members...”

“Who?” Slade growls, gripping his glass of whiskey a little too tightly.

“Well, it was Ms. Talia Al Ghul and Mr. Burce Wayne.”

“I see… Do make sure my guest is comfortable.” ________________________________________________________________ a/n: Thanks for reading and yeah I could not resist making reader a sugar baby for all three cus that is my dream hahahaha

[13uswntimagines]

Chanukah party (USWNT x Baby!Reader)

This isn’t a request but @literaryhedgehog​ and I thought it would be fun. The basic premise is that reader is at camp during Chanukah, and the team feels bad (especially Lindsey) so they throw her a party. (thank you @notmia101​ for betaing this for us). 

You smiled at Alyssa as she described her winter plans after training camp. How she was going to visit her sister and her family for Christmas. How they were hoping for snow and how they were going to kill an innocent tree and desecrate its body with lights for their amusement. Her words, not yours. It was a game she and the other girls played every year, trying to make their Christmas plans sound as horror-movie-ish as possible. It was a way of trying to make fun of themselves so you could share the amusement and join in laughing at them. 

But despite their efforts, a little piece of you always felt left out because you couldn’t (wouldn’t?) participate. See, you were one of the few who didn’t celebrate Christmas. You were proud of your Jewish heritage, even if your family wasn’t the most ~religious~. But you were proud of the culture you had been raised in. You held its traditions very near to your heart and weren’t AT ALL bitter that the rest of the team had time designated to visit their family during their winter holidays while you still had training camp through the third week of December.  

You were kinda zoning out because you could only take so much of their cookie baking, their stalkerish man that watched kids while they slept, and their hiding of a stupid stuffed toy you were sure would give you nightmares (who the fuck thought having an ���elf’ stalk your family all month was cute?!?!? Capitalism was a weird man). (Though you may or may not have paid attention to Lindsey’s plan to dress Ferguson like a little elf…) 

“What about you kid?” Tobin asked, nudging you out of your daydream. 

“What?” You shook your head, making everyone around you laugh. 

“Do you have plans for the holidays?” Lindsey repeated, her smile showing off her dimples. 

“Oh, um. Chanukah started a few days ago. It’s cool, they have an app with a menorah and everything. My family has been face timing me most days, but it will be over before training ends.” You shrugged, hoping they couldn’t see how much being away from your family during this time of year sucked (though you were glad to be included on the camp roster). 

Most of the veteran's jaws dropped, how had they not known that you were missing something so important to you? How had US Soccer overlooked a holiday (and inadvertently given you an ultimatum- celebrate or make the national team). 

“Then why did they schedule training camp this week?” Tobin mumbled. Again you shrugged. 

“There’s 23 of you and only one of me… it’s really not that big of a deal,” you smiled briefly and gave the same speech you had given since middle school, “It’s not like the ‘Jewish Christmas’ even though it happens around the same time some years, my family doesn’t even exchange presents, so I’m really just missing the party they’re throwing on the 18th.” 

“That still isn’t fair though. I mean, we get Christmas off automatically, even if we don’t celebrate it!” Christen huffed, throwing her hands up. 

“I mean, this isn’t like a new thing. We’re always at camp during this time. And next year the holiday starts in November, so it’s not something that can consistently be scheduled around. I guess it’s just a sacrifice I have to make to be the best right?” You said earnestly, shaking your head. You knew all of the arguments, you had heard them for all of your life. 

“But-“ Emily started to protest, but before she could get the words out you cut her off. “Don’t make a big deal guys, it’s fine. Really,” 

The team stared at you for a few seconds, several women opening and closing their mouths several times. You shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, breathing a sigh of relief when your phone rang, glad to have an excuse to get out of this situation. 

“Ok so we’re totally going to make a big deal out of this,” Lindsey said turning back around to face the team the second you were out the door. 

“I’m guessing you have a plan to woo your girl?” Emily smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not to. No. We are doing this as a team to be supportive of our teammate who is part of a traditionally marginalized culture that we need to be more supportive of,” Lindsey grumbled sternly, smiling when Christen nodded in return. “I’m googling “Chanukah for Dummies” right now. 

They were going to make this camp different from the others (and if she got to impress you that was just a bonus). 

…..

“Umm, why does it smell like something is burning?” Becky asked, walking through the hotel corridor towards the dining room. 

“Because Latkes are apparently more difficult to make than I expected,” Kelley said, tossing what looked like a stack of burned hockey pucks into the trash. “I didn’t realize the whole room was going to smell like fried food- do you think they’re going to fine me when we check out?”

“If they fine you, they better fine Em too. The stench from such a little jar is kind of amazing,” Lindsey huffed. 

“What did she do, get her sardines or something?” Becky asked, shaking her head, remembering the smell that she couldn’t quite place. 

“No. Something called ‘Gefilte fish’”. 

“But isn’t that usually for Passover?” Kelley asked, looking up from where she was trying to scrape burned potatoes off her pan.

“They said it was traditional, isn’t that what we’re going for?” Emily huffed, pouting. Lindsey rolled her eyes at her best friend. 

“I’ve got music!” Chrystal called, walking through the door in a star-patterned sweater. “It turns out there are not a whole lot of Chanukah songs. There’s a Spotify playlist that’s only 3 hours long, or so, so I supplemented it with a lot of Leonard Cohen and Paul Simon.”

“And I brought the sour cream and applesauce as requested!” Sam called, walking in after her, “also some apple juice and honey bourbon. I know apples and honey are a thing for Rosh Hashana, so I thought maybe we could make some cocktails?”

“I won’t tell coach if you don’t,” Kelley said taking the bottle and pouring herself a shot. “Someone else needs to take over the latke making. My attempts have all either looked like lefse, hashbrowns or just burned.”

“Lefse?”

“I had an ex-girlfriend from Minnesota. It was a potato tortilla thing her family sent her at thanksgiving. The point here is that someone else needs to cook or we are just going to be eating sour cream and applesauce on their own.”

“We could make french fries?” Rose suggested tentatively. 

“With bacon and cheese! Those are the best,” Emily exclaimed, only to have Lindsey (gently) slap the back of her head. 

“No, Sonnett. She can’t have bacon and I don’t think she’s allowed to have cheese and meat on the same plate…” 

“I think if we just batter potato pieces in egg and flour and fry them it would taste nice with the apple sauce and sour cream. And we’ve made french fries before so it won’t be so much of a… learning curve. Though you did a great try, Kelley!” Rose said, patting Kelley’s arm.

“You guys are useless. Did you even look at a recipe?” Megan shook her head. 

“If you think it’s so easy you try it.” Kelley scoffed. Megan raised her eyebrow at the woman, stealing the spatula from the defender's hand. 

“Tasty made here we come,” 

*****

“Happy Chanukah!” came from all around as you walked in. Lindsey was very proud. Not only had she gotten the team on track and ensured that they had all of the stuff google said would make the perfect Chanukah celebration; she had also kept you off their trail until this moment. The shock on your face made all the work on their day off entirely worth it. 

The room was decorated in tinsel with a shiny plastic menorah in the center of the table. Several people were wearing ugly sweaters with different “decorations” taped on. A sign on the back wall said “We survived, let’s eat!” Lindsey had decided against hanging up the posters Rose and Mal made saying “Stick it to the (ro)Man!” and “MaccaBEe mine.” The first one because she wasn’t sure it was appropriate, the second one because she knew it wasn’t.

“Ooo who brought the hotdog of the sea?” You asked, biting your lip to suppress a giggle as you walked over to the table to see the food on display. 

“What?” Lindsey’s eyes tried to follow yours, utterly confused. They didn’t get hotdogs. They most certainly weren’t on the list that Chanukah for dummies had given her. 

You smiled softly and shook your head, pointing to the tan balls that Emily had provided. 

“That’s what my siblings and I call it during Passover. Gefilte fish is kinda a love it or hate it thing…” you trailed off, scrunching your nose just slightly. 

“And you’re not a fan?” Lindsey smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“Umm, I plead the fifth,” You mumbled, shaking your head slightly. It wasn’t your favorite item in the world. 

“That was all Emily,” Kelley snorted, clapping you on the back, and you grinned devilishly back at her. 

“Well, it was very nice of her to be so thoughtful. She can try a piece with me,” 

Emily cringed at the idea, but nodded nonetheless. It was your party and if eating the smelly thing out of a jar made you happy, then that’s exactly what she would do. (She also stealthily shot Lindsey the middle finger while you were surveying the rest of the items on the tables). 

“Honestly the sufganiyot is my favorite,” you said, taking a step towards the platter, your lips ticking up at Lindsey’s adorable confused face. “sorry, the donuts,” you clarified, picking up one of the many powdered sugar-covered donuts in the stack, inspecting it to see what kind it was. The Jelly ones were particularly important for the celebration. 

Lindsey blushed a little. “We didn’t know if you wanted jelly or custard,” She said hesitantly, watching as your eyes got impossibly brighter. 

“Both are amazing, thank you,” You smiled softly at the midfielder, brushing a stay bit of powdered sugar off her pink cheeks. You held her gaze for a moment before seeming realizing you had an audience, and turning towards the rest of the team. “thank all of you,” 

It wasn’t the traditional Chanukah you usually shared with your family, but the friends who had become your family made it special nonetheless.

[mrskurono]

or like when hinata goes on a tangent about volleyball, showing you what he’s been doing, and what he’s trying to improve on. he tosses the ball upwards and turns to you a bit, only to see you staring back at him, clearly focused on what he’s saying. which took him by surprise because he had expected you to be at least half listening but the fact that he has ur undivided attention has him flustered as hell. the words die on his lips as he is enraptured by ur intense gaze, the forgotten ball falling directly on his head lol. makes it worse because now he’s flustered and embarrassed. and if u run up to him to ask if he’s ok, holding his face in ur hands as u check for bumps, he’s definitely not gonna be able to look at you AT ALL. he’s just like WHUHHWUWH IM SORRY THATS SEXY 😩😩 his face gets redder the longer u look at him, and now his mind is wondering about how ur eyes will look when ur sitting on top of him working his cock in your hand :)

- 🪢 hinata 😩😩 like pre time skip he was a cutie pie gave me bff vibes, post time skip hinata got me fucked up bruh makes me wanna press him down and squeeze his juicy ass tf

OK YOU KNOW WHAT TANGET TIME SO BUCKLE UP LADIES, MEN AND NON BINARY FRIENDS- 

I fucking love pre timeskip Hinata like, this bitch WAS my first crush. I adore him with all my heart (and he proudly is on my bed in a stuffie right next to Kageyama) like everyone and “Brazil Hinata” only??? Wtf you know how much stamina little fuckers like that have?? Have you seen that stare??? Oh god the stare, that did me in right then and there like sploosh ok. Hinata can fucking get it no matter what if he’s muscly or not and on this blog we support scrawny Hinata fucking as much as we do beefy boy fucking bc Hinata is one of the like, three(?), bitches that are aloud to be dom over this mommy. Love me my ginger. Pocket sized little freak lemme corrupt the fuck outta him and train him like god damn <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Ok, tangent over....for now.

Hinata’s face in your hands 😩 stumbling, flustered stupid man red faced and everything 😩 Taking it one step further, and knowing Hinata has a thing for you. How can you not wanna fuck with him? Even a little? Cupping his face and when he’s stammering and what not you just- run your thumb over his bottom lip and Hinata’s first reaction is to no joke open his mouth to take your thumb into his mouth. And it’s obvious.

Him freezing. Deer in the head light look bc he just....fuck he really did just try to suck on your thumb.

Starting all over again being embarrassed but this time just popping your thumb in his mouth and pressing down on his tongue to get Hinata to immediately moan on your thumb. Hands still mostly cupping his face so when Hinata’s eyes flutter shut with a little eye roll to the back of his head and he earnestly starts to suck on your thumb. You squeeze his face a little and get those cute cheeks to squish as Hinata groans and just a shudder runs through all of him

And of course he’s probably wearing jersey shorts so its uh...pretty obvious to see his problem rear it’s head right after you touched his lips. But now with your thumb in his mouth and him sucking on it like he’s desperate? Oh it’s so clear how hard he is now. Hinata is just so excitable

Anyways....I um, love Hinata. Pls I love him so much and his English VA might lowkey be one of my voice kink thingys ok I won’t lie he can fucking get it and then just switch it right up and peg his cute buns. Like, my sweet switchy orange tangerine lemme smash <3

[se0kie]

call it what you want— jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader, [jin x reader for like two seconds]

genre: fluff, angst

high school au, f2l, bestfriends au, unrequited love

tags/warnings: mild pining, mild swearing (y/n says the f word like twice), i love y/n she’s adorable, some jealousy, jungkook is immature and/or clueless, vmin make an appearance, jk’s a killjoy squeeeeeeee!! seokjin being the handsome older man every teenage girl crushes on hehe

summary: you have been best friends with Jungkook since before you can remember. but it’s difficult being a supportive friend he can fall back on when you’re hopelessly in love with him.

word count: 3.5k

this was commissioned for the lovely @dee-ehn through the changeswithluv project by @ficswithluv! i hope you like it <3

a/n: high school au but all characters are of or above age. also this is super unedited yolo lemme know how yall like it thooooo

You’re standing outside the gate to your house, tapping your foot incessantly against the curb as irritation runs through you like a tiny insect. He’s late. Again.

You had somehow gotten yourself out of bed, rushed through your shower and made yourself presentable for school. Your knee high socks only doing so much to keep you shivering from the cold. It was brisk in the mornings, which is exactly why you needed Jungkook to be on time at least for once.

You sighed yet again, your hair flying due to the breeze. You looked down the street, hoping for the familiar toothy grin and curly hair to make an appearance. Jungkook’s whoop of greeting announced his arrival as you finally calmed down enough to stop your tapping. You scowled as he neared you, letting him see the displeasure on your face.

“I’m sorreee, Y/N!” he whined, usually it was all it took for you to stop being mad at him. And today was no different.

You smiled at him, letting him know you weren’t upset as he thrust a notebook into your hands. “Thank you for letting me borrow your notes, I love you,” you blushed at his usual words of gratitude. Although you remind yourself this is how the two of you had been for ever, don’t go looking for meaning in something mundane.

Jungkook intertwines his arm with yours as you start walking towards school. The two of you have been going to school together since you learned to walk.

You’re walking hand in hand when Jungkook looks at you sideways, you raise your eyebrows at him, questioning.

“What?” you say with a half laugh.

“Nothiiiing, how’s my favourite girl this morning?” Jungkook says with a smile.

You look straight ahead as you answer, “I’d be better if you actually ever showed up on time. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I heard from a certain someone...” he begins when you cut him off.

“From a certain Jimin.”

He looks at you with exasperation as you keep walking, “Would you let me finish?!”

“Oh I’m sorry, do continue,” you reply with a small smile. “You were saying?”

“Yeah so a certain someone told me that Kim Seokjin has a crush on you.”

“WHAT?” You sputter and gasp at the unexpected revelation. Never would you have thought you’d get to hear such a sentence.

“Jungkook is this another one of your bad attempts at being funny? Cause it’s really not working and I’m gonna have to ask you to cut it out,” you say as you purse your lips.

“No no! I’m serious, Taehyung heard his older brother talking to some guy on the phone and he was distinctly talking about ‘Y/N that cute senior in Tae’s class’!” Jungkook says it so earnestly with those doe eyes that you can’t help but believe him. Although it does put you in quite a bit of a pickle seeming how your current crush is telling you about boys who in turn are crushing on you.

“I mean, Seokjin is kinda cute—”

“Kinda?? Y/N, honey, that guy has the most perfect face in the whole world. Literally!” You can’t help but doubt if Jungkook himself is in love with the older man, the way he talks about his friend’s hyung is rather suspicious.

“I just don’t know him well enough, y’know?”

“Nobody’s telling you to marry him, just talk to the guy. I saw him shirtless once at Tae’s house and all I’m gonna say is whoo boy, I could grate cheese on his abs!”

You snort at his antics, Jungkook dramatically enacting another one of his encounters with the cheerleader in love with him as you try not to let jealousy tint you green. The familiar grey building appearing in your sight as you advance closer towards it.

The shrill of the school bell rings out through the class. There is a flurry of movement as students scramble to leave the stuffy room, you sit back waiting for the commotion to die down as you gather your notes and stationary to put back in your canvas bag.

You catch a glimpse of Jungkook rushing towards the door when you yell out for him. “Hey, JK! Where do you think you’re going?”

Jungkook stutters while looking back at you, hesitantly making his way towards you with an expression you know far too well.

“Jungkook... Why are you making that face?” you say as you squint your eyes at him. He twiddles his thumbs as his gaze flitters nervously about the room, taking in everything but your face.

“Jungkook.”

“Well... You see I have this little thing to do uh,,, it’s kinda, a little bit important...” he says.

“Oh spit it out, you monkey!” You say, your patience running thin.

“I have a date!” Jungkook says with eyes widened. Your carefully maintained expression slips for just a second and then it’s back on. You look around the room to catch the pretty cheerleader waiting outside the door. She’s standing with her other cheerleader friends and you can tell she’s jittery from the nerves.

Oh, damn it.

You sigh as you decide to let your unnerved friend off the hook, once again. “Fine, just go on your stupid date. But this project is the last one I’ll be covering for you, after this you’re on your own, bud.”

“Oh Y/N, thank you!” Jungkook exclaims as he breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, thankyouthankyou!!” He repeats as he hugs you clumsily, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you hold your breath, trying to act nonchalant.

The joy of being around your best friend drains from your entire being as your heart weighs heavy again in his absence.

You’re the only one left in the quiet classroom.

You’re still in your uniform sitting on the plush carpet of the Kims’ living room, your notes and study material sprawled in front of you as you take in the bickering pair, Jimin and Tae are smushed together in the bright floral armchair.

You cough once to try and get their attention when Jimin glances at you, looking as if he’s just noticed you. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry were you saying something?”

“Yeah just for the last fucking hour but it’s okay, please continue,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jimin narrows his eyes at you, making it known that he doesn’t appreciate the sass.

“Remind me again why that beefed up rabbit isn’t here to help with the project?” Taehyung quips as he gets up to get a bottle of strawberry milk from the refrigerator. It’s always a delight to be at his house, his parents are always away for some obscure book meeting leaving their gorgeous home and kitchen free for their kids and their countless friends. You send a silent prayer of gratitude to Mr. and Mrs. Kim for the years you’ve spent at their home to keep from strangling their younger son.

“He’s on a date,” you say lowly.

“A what now?” Jimin asks, eyebrows raised.

“A date,” you mumble.

“A great what, Y/N will you speak up?!”

“JUNGKOOK IS ON A DATE!” you scream, surprising Tae in the kitchen as he yelps with a small crash following.

Jimin’s mouth hangs open, worry written in the droop scrunch of brows. He strides towards you and wraps his arms around your figure, the scent of his classic Chanel perfume wafting up to your nose.

“Oh you poor thing, it’s gonna be okay. Koo’s an idiot, he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” Jimin coos into your hair as you melt in his embrace, finally letting the heaviness weigh you down as you slag against his frame. He pulls away and holds you back to properly examine your face.

“Are you sad?”

“Just a little, although I know I have no right to be,” you say with an unintentional pout. “Jungkook only sees me as his friend, and he has no reason to put me above potential relationships.”

“Shut up for a minute and give yourself a break, honey,” Tae voices out as he comes back into the living room. He stands behind you and pulls you back into his lap as he lets you sit on him like a child complaining to their mum. Jimin takes his place beside him and faces you head on.

“Next time I see him I’m gonna flick him on the forehead,” you say with mild conviction, knowing you’re making empty promises.

“You do that,” Jimin says.

Taehyung rubs your back as you slouch against him, gathering your thoughts and energy to go through the day without crying. You can’t say this is a new occurrence, Taehyung and Jimin have been your closest friends after Jungkook. You’ve spent a gross amount of time with them, and the coddling and comforting has been something unique to your trio. Every time one of you was upset or sad or frustrated, the other two have comforted and joked and babied them, whatever they needed at that point of time.

You take a deep breath and get up out of Tae’s reassuring hold, you sit back down on the carpet. Silently letting them know that you’ll be fine, for now. “Jimin can you handle the titles and diagrams? I’m gonna get started on the typing, and Tae you gotta start preparing for the presentation,” you get back into work mode, rambling out the designated areas for each of you to overlook.

You’re looking through your notes when the tall, striking Kim Seokjin walks out of his room, he goes straight into the kitchen but you can’t help but follow his movements. Or rather his rear end’s movements.

As he’s walking out, he looks at you from his freakishly tall height and winks at you. You feel your heart do a weird little ballet flip, something you’ve reserved for Jungkook for the longest time. You fluster at the gesture and tuck your hair behind your ear, a shy smile painting your face. You look back up and Seokjin is gone, Taehyung looking at you as if he’s in on your little secret moment.

Jimin groans as he looks up from his work, pouting slightly with his plump lips as he complains about the absentee.

“Jimin, it’s okay! Calm down, he’s saved our asses multiple times. We can do this one thing for him, can’t we?” You try to reason.

“Yeah whatever, of course you’ll say that. You’re the one who’s in loooove with him,” Jimin mumbles to himself.

“I am not in love with Jungkook! It is outrageous of you to suggest that,” you say with a squeal of mild anger.

“Oh admit it Y/N, it’s not just a safe little crush on your best friend anymore, you totally want to snog his face off!” Taehyung accuses you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. You whine in embarrassment as your press your palms to your face, hoping to cool your heated cheeks.

Taehyung comes up behind you as he hugs you from the back, his head resting your shoulder as he teases you. “Y/N and Kook! Sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!!” You squeal in humiliation as Jimin scuffles over to you as he captures you between him and Taehyung.

He joins in on the embarrassing poem, “First comes looooove! Then comes marriage! Then comes a Taehyung in a baby carriage!!” Tae looks up at the blonde haired boy across from him and yells, “Yah! Park Jimin, I’m not gonna be Jungkook’s baby, how dare you?!”

Jimin is too busy laughing like the gremlin he is to answer Tae’s question, his eyes scrunched up as he releases peals of happy laughter. You’re laughing just as hard, if not harder, alongside him. Your sides are in stitches yet you’re so bubbling with pure joy that you don’t bother with the pain in your stomach.

As the laughter dies down, Tae has a solemn look on his face. One that you don’t particularly like seeing because you know he’s gonna coax you into having the uncomfortable conversations you’re too scared to have yourself.

“Seriously, Y/N. Do you... love Jungkook? You know, like that?”

You sigh, “Yeah, I mean, isn’t it obvious? I really, really love him and it just physically hurts me to know that he may never return the sentiment.”

“Then sweetheart you’re gonna have to talk to him! He might actually even return your feelings but be too scared to tell you himself, and even if he does not you can’t keep hurting like this every time he goes on a date,” Jimin says softly, a gentle hand laying your arm.

“Because right now, Y/N, Jungkook is hurting you. And he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, it’s not fair to you nor is it fair to him.”

You know it makes sense, but you just feel so anxious and confused about how things will go if you actually tell Jungkook about your feelings for him. You take a deep breath as you try hard to let your friends in, “I just— I’m scared of how things will be once I tell him, you know? I don’t want to lose my best friend. If loving him from the sidelines is the only kind of relationship we can have I’m absolutely okay with that. I would never ever want to do something that will chase him out of my life.” You don’t realise the tears running down your cheeks until Jimin is brushing them away.

“If the only dates we can have are ramen and banana milk? Then damn it I will drink that banana milk!” you say with a sniffle. “Loving Koo from the outside is better than not loving him at all,” you manage to say before you choke on a sob. Dropping your head into the crook of Jimin’s neck, Tae rubbing your back from behind you.

And you cry in your friends’ embrace. You cry harder than you ever have before.

It’s the week before the end of the school year, you’re walking across the quad to meet with Jungkook under your favourite tree. It’s a light, breezy afternoon, there’s a bounce in your step as your short school skirt swings on your hips. You feel good and you can tell you look good, the sudden air of confidence is a welcome change from your usual skittish demeanour.

You can make out Jungkook’s big form laying on the grass under the apple tree, his bag under his head and earbuds popped in, you’re sure he’s listening to some My Chemical Romance song once again. You’re about to shout his name when a tall someone blocks your path.

You look up at them to find the startlingly handsome face of Kim Seokjin looking down at you. His hair is slicked back to reveal his forehead and the immaculate eyebrows, his hands are shoved into his bomber jacket as he looks at you intensely.

“Uh,,, h-hi Jin,” you squeak under his gaze.

“Hey Y/N,” he says.

“Um, w-what’s up?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to ask you something kind of important,” he says nonchalantly.

“Really? Okay, go ahead,” you attempt to act indifferent to his attention but the butterflies thrumming in your stomach told you otherwise. Seokjin’s hand flits out of his pocket to run through the hair at the back of his neck, his eyes flicker around nervously, “Would you uhm... would you be interested in like, going to the end of year um... dance? W-with me?”

The sudden change in demeanour from cool to nervous is endearing to you, a light giggle spills out of you as you answer with blood red cheeks, “O-of course, I would love to.” You smile up at him shyly. The thought of Jungkook flickering across your mind for a second before you push it away.

You know you can’t be hung up on him for ever, and he’s sure as hell not gonna take you as his date to the dance. And Seokjin is a good person, you like to think you know him pretty well after the years you’ve spent with him and his brother, it also doesn’t hurt his chances that he’s actually the most perfect looking human in the entire world.

“Oh wow, I didn’t think you’d say yes,” he admits, honestly. “Well, great then! I’ll pick you up at your place on the day of?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum as you try to suppress a smile.

“Cool,” he says with the widest grin you’ve ever seen on him, “I gotta go, I’ll see you soon okay?”

You nod at him as he walks away, taking the opportunity to gaze at his broad shoulders. A blissful sigh leaving your lips as you finally let the suppressed smile break across your face.

Shaking your head you continue on your path towards your best friend, who has by now sat up straight and is staring at you with narrowed eyes, a bitter scowl forming on his charming face by the second. You reach his spot and chirp out a greeting, “Hello, what’s up with you face?”

“What did Jin want?”

“Um, I’m good, thanks for asking, how are you?”

He narrowed his eyes even more to the point where he looked like he had slits for eyes, “Answer the question, smart ass.”

“He asked me if I wanted to go to the dance with him? Why?”

“Oh. I didn’t you were taking a date with you to the dance?” He said as he turned his face away from you.

You plopped down beside him, uncaring. “Yeah well it’s really not the coolest to go to a formal school ball all alone. I’m saving for future formal balls where I can embarrass myself to the fullest.” You chuckle at your poor humour.

“Oh you think you’re sooo funny, don’t you? Hilarious Y/N. Well cut it out cause you’re not, and your hair’s dry and you need a new backpack.” Jungkook quite literally huffs as he crosses his arms in a defensive position and leans his back on the apple tree.

You gasp at the sudden jabs, “What is the matter with you?! That’s just mean and my hair is not dry, it is moisturised to it’s best thank you very much!”

“You’re so obtuse,” Jungkook says with a glare.

“What? What did I do?” you ask, only slightly taking offense.

Jungkook moves his body abruptly towards you so that he is facing you head on, you wither under his strong gaze as he huffs again, “You really don’t know?”

“Um if I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?” you retort, equally annoyed by now.

He continues to stare at you as if you’ve stolen his lunch money, slowly starting to feel uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny when he breathes out loud, “If you don’t get it then you don’t get it, I can’t do anything about it,” and he gets up from his spot.

Gathering his bag he starts walking away from you without a word, although you do hear the words ‘stupid’ and ‘oblivious’ under his breath as he moves farther away from your stumped figure.

It had been four solid days that Jungkook ignored you, he avoided you at every meeting and stopped sitting beside you in all the classes you shared. Although four days doesn’t seem like much it was just grossly too long for the amount of time the two of you spent together otherwise, you were annoyed and frustrated but more than anything you felt shunned. Jungkook had never once behaved like this with you and this was an entirely new side of him you were being exposed to.

Two days before the end of school, Jungkook had once again avoided you and sat way over at the other end of the room with his cheerleader groupies. You were dangerously close to tears as he was your only friend in the majority of your classes, you only shared History and Literature with Tae and Jimin and without your best friend you were left completely alone.

The bell rang announcing the end of the period and the school day, you were fed up of this treatment and decided to make things right no matter what. You got up from your desk and walked over to Jungkook’s with what little courage you could gather. You waved timidly at him, he was speaking to the pretty girls who were twirling their curls around their fingers and making eyes at the handsome boy.

“Hey, Kook we should talk,” you said softly.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t want to speak with you.” You felt like he’d just slapped you with the formal smile he was giving you. Anger like fire rushed through your veins as you grabbed his arm and dragged him behind you and out of the classroom, the girls looking on with wide eyes as the centre of their attention was whisked away by the shy girl they never paid attention to.

You storm into the boy’s bathroom at the corner next to your class, swinging around to face your friend as you cross your arms and raise and eyebrow, “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N.”

“What the fuck do you mean there’s nothing to talk about?” you say sharply.

He winces at your usage of the cuss word, “Listen Y/N, I don’t want to fight, please just let it go and let’s move on with our lives.”

“Jungkook?! You won’t even tell me what I did wrong? How do you expect me to move on from something I don’t even know? Please, just tell me why you’re upset and I promise I’ll make it right,” you say pleadingly.

Jungkook chuckles softly, “If only you could.”

You reach forward and place your arms on his thick biceps, you look at him earnestly, “Please Kook, don’t do this to us. Tell me what happened? Please?”

He takes a shaky breath as you notice the tension on his brows, “I just— I thought if you’d ever go to a school dance,”

“What about the school dance?” you whisper.

“I thought if you’d ever go to a school dance... it would be with me...” he says softly.

You feel like your breath has been knocked out of you. Your arms feel suddenly too light, panic wraps its hands around your belly and squeezes.

Somehow you find it in yourself to push through the nerves and ask, “Jungkook... D-do you mean to say what I think you do?”

“If you think I mean to say that I like you then yeah, it’s exactly what you think,” he replies with a slight pout.

You laugh out of relief and realisation, all this while the boy you were in love with had liked you back and you had been to stupid to see it. Everything clicks into place and you piece together all the weird reactions over the years, the sudden bursts of jealousy and possessiveness all make sense now that you know he likes you. He really likes you too.

“Jungkook, you idiot! I like you too, I’ve liked you since fucking forever, oh my god.”

His eyes shine brighter at your words, “Really? Then what was that whole thing with Seokjin and going to the dance as his date?”

“That was just because I was too tired of watching you date girl after girl, I thought I should finally try to move on from you,” you say, “It was tiring to see the boy I love hook up with all these gorgeous girls and know that I’ll never be able to tell him how much I like him.”

Jungkook has the manners to look sheepish as his cheeks grow red, “You love me?”

“I— No of course not I just said it—”

“You love me! Y/N is in love with me!!” He all but whoops. You hide your face in your hands as he announces smugly that you, are in fact in love with him.

“Hey Y/N,” he says suddenly, voice dropping several octaves to send a shiver down your entire body.

You peek out from behind your fingers to sneak a look at him, only to find his face right in front of yours and dangerously close. His big brown eyes are staring into yours as you take in the gorgeous, long lashes; his lips are pink and a cheeky bunny smile shows of his teeth. He whispers and you feel his minty breath on your face, “I love you, too.”

[varanest]

what a feeling - part 2 (trent alexander-arnold)

a/n: you may read part one for some background story, however, it can be read as a oneshot.

Having a long-distance relationship with Trent is hard, but it works, in a disjointed sort of way.

They've lost a bit of the rhythm they had going on when they only lived a few minutes away from each other, as opposed to Nina studying in America - an 8 hour difference playing against them.

Nina just wishes she could shake the guilt that won't stop building up in her stomach. She feels stupid about all of it, about being jealous, about being sad, about keeping Trent from whatever football stars should be doing.

It's just hard when she can't bring herself to text Trent back. She doesn't want to feel like she's holding him back, can't stop reminding herself that Trent's amazing and she's never really going to deserve him.

She has this growing fear that she's going to wake up one morning and see pictures of Trent kissing someone else, that he's going to stop texting her and she is going to be left without nothing but old messages and her entire phone's storage of their selfies.

**

“Is everything okay?” Trent asks from the hotel room his team is staying at. Nina can see sweat gathering on his brow which means he had just finished training. She likes the way the humidity makes his hair curl even more.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Nina tries to sound nonchalant, cuddling up in her covers. Trent looks good, all furrowed brows and big concerned eyes and Nina hates herself more than she previously realized she could. She doesn’t know what she’s doing anymore, if she wants Trent to move on to better things or if she wants to drop out of college, fly to England and make sure no one ever touches Trent again.

Trent shrugs, and he just looks so hurt Nina wants to die.

“You just seem distant lately. You haven’t been replying to my texts, I’ve been missing you.”

Nina bites her lip, wondering if she looks as guilty as she feels. “I’ve just been busy, love. Lots of homework, you know how it is. I’m sorry.”

Trent nods, his mouth in a sad, determined little line.

“It’s not something I did, is it?”

Nina shakes her head vehemently, every word tearing her up a little more.

“Of course not, I just don’t want you to worry about me, alright? Please go to sleep, you must be well-rested for the match tomorrow. I’m sure you guys will win!” She wonders if Trent can see through her cheery front, hopes to God he can’t.

Trent gives her a small smile, looking only moderately reassured. “I can’t stop worrying about you. I love you stupid amounts, remember?”

Nina nods. “Of course I remember. But you don’t need to worry, I’m not wasting away or anything.”

“I know. I just want you to know I care about you – I feel like it’s just something I need to say,” he shrugs, curling on himself like he’s sorry. Nina feels a sudden stab of guilt, wishing she knew how to make this a clean cut. It’s not that she doesn’t love Trent, she loves him more than anything in the entire fucking universe, but she knows she’s never going to be enough for him, not really. It’ll hurt less this way, if she’s the one who leaves.

“That’s really sweet of you, but don’t worry, I know,” Nina smiles, hiding her face with this tea mug. “Tell me about the match, how did training go?”

Nina can see it as Trent lightens up a little bit, the tension falling from his shoulders. He mentions how the coach has been congratulating him lately, how he stands out from everyone else.

“I’m so proud of you,” Nina says earnestly. Trent deserves to succeed – she doesn’t know much about football but she swears he’s the best player out there.

Trent smiles, the real one that’s somehow softer on this face than his other expressions, the one where his eyes go bright and everything else drops away.

“Thanks, my love. This is all just too much, it’s so amazing.”

She knows then that she’s not going to be able to keep Trent forever, that the world deserves him more than Nina does.

**

She moves the polaroid of Trent down from her mirror and puts it at the bottom of her desk drawer because looking at it makes her feel guilty.

Not seeing it makes her feel guiltier, but she can’t bring herself to put it back up.

**

The next night she falls asleep curled around her laptop waiting for Trent to FaceTime her, waking up the next morning with three missed calls and a lethargy that won’t seem to leave her body. She texts Trent an apology, but she can’t shake the feeling that everything is falling apart beneath her.

She knows that if you love something you have to let it go, but she thinks maybe she’s letting parts of herself go, can’t quite figure out where the pieces of Trent end and she begins.

She thinks maybe she’ll give herself away too, so she has nothing left to leave her.

**

A few days later, she gets a text at 3 am, two hours after she’d told Trent over FaceTime that she was going to try and get to sleep. It’s a picture message, a shot of the sky so full of starts they show up on the tiny iPhone camera. There are only five words attached to it.

I wish you were here

a/n: part three, maybe? please let me know if you want a part three here. as always, any feedback, suggestions, or requests are greatly appreciated. you can find my masterlist here.

[btsiguess]

This Is Just To Say (m) - 10

Summary: To say it’s unusual to have a soulmate is an understatement, and most people desperately wish to have an elegant name scrawled upon their wrist. In reality though, you’d have to say it causes much more issues than it solves.

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader (slight Namjoon/Reader; Jungkook/Reader) Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst Word Count: 3268 Warnings: kinda angsty A/N: Long time no see  Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Your eyes are full of tears as you make your way back to your dorm. The walk is long and cold, but it’s not like you were about to go waking up Suga--no, not Suga. Min Yoongi--and ask him for a ride. You’re torn between intense longing and regret. You like Suga. It felt natural to be with him. Too natural, you suppose.

It’s not fair. None of this is fair. Why had Jungkook broken up with you? Why had Suga lied to you? Why did you even have to have a stupid soulmate in the first place? You hadn’t asked for one. You wanted to be in love. Just… on your own terms.

When you finally make it into your dorm you just crawl back into your blanket cocoon. You should have never left in the first place.

Your phone buzzes. You know before you even look down that it’s Suga, but still to see his name on your screen and know that he was lying to you hurt you. Someone you trusted so much… lying to you about everything.

Where did you go? I thought I’d make breakfast and we could go another round ;)

Your heart and your core clench in traitorous agony, but still you don’t respond. Instead, you let your eyes scan the words over and over again.

You wish that you could be warm in his arms instead of wrapped in your blankets. You somehow feel so cold despite the comforter’s thickness. You can’t help but let your mind wander to the way Suga had touched you last night. To the way he had felt so perfect inside of you. You want more. You imagine him cooking for you, clad in nothing but his boxers so you could come up behind him and plant lingering kisses on his shoulders. It’s a desperately beautiful fantasy… but nothing more.

You had trusted Suga, and he had betrayed you.

It takes Suga around an hour to figure out that you’re ignoring him. He texts over and over, and then begins to call. You want to be strong enough to put the phone on silent, to roll over in bed and sleep until this didn’t hurt anymore. But there was a small part of you that couldn’t allow it. It was on his fifth call that you finally picked up.

“What?” There’s a small pause on the line, as if Suga hadn’t actually expected you to pick up at all.

“Why did you leave?” He asks.

“Why did you lie?” You answer.

“Lie? About what? I didn’t lie--”

“Yoongi.” You interrupt and there’s a soft anguished sounding oh from the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry.” He says instantly, and you don’t know what to do. You want more than anything to simply forgive and forget, but this wasn’t just the type of situation you could throw away or ignore. You had told Yoongi right before… This wasn’t fair. “Please, Y/N, listen to  me, I thought there would be more time before you found out--”

“You knew I was going to find out? You were actively keeping this from me?” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. It’s like the Suga you knew was just some figment of your imagination. “Listen, Of course I wanted to tell you!” He defends himself. “I wasn’t going to let anything happen between us before you knew but… the wine… and you were so beautiful and… I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough!” You cry. “This is such a huge violation of my trust! How can I be with someone like you! I don’t even know who the fuck you are, Min Yoongi!”

“I know.” His voice is quiet, shaking slightly like his heart is breaking in two and you’re sitting back to just listen. “Namjoon said there was no other way, that you’d cut all ties with me--”

“What do you mean ‘Namjoon said’?” Your stomach has fallen completely. This can’t mean what you think it means.

“Yeah,” Yoongi starts, “I was just hanging out with him and you came up. He told me you didn’t want to be with me… that you wouldn’t even give me a chance. I couldn’t have that happen! You’re all I’ve ever wanted…” Yoongi’s voice has this… pitch. As if he thinks what he’s saying is making anything better. Your heart was pounding in your chest. To think, Namjoon of all people would have been the one to betray you. You trusted him.

“You don’t want me, Yoongi. You just want a soulmate.”

It felt like your whole world was falling out from under you. How could this be happening? You had just lost… everyone. Jungkook wouldn’t have the time of day with you, Namjoon had chosen Yoongi over you… And Yoongi. Just forget the whole thing.

You hang up the phone, letting it drop to the bed as you cover your eyes with your arm. You wouldn’t cry anymore. You had bigger issues to deal with.

You haul yourself out of bed. You have to talk to Namjoon.

During your walk across campus, you practice the speech you are going to give Namjoon. It’s really elegant, you must say. An intricately woven tale of heartbreak and betrayal. You were hoping Namjoon would cry and beg for your forgiveness. However, it all fell apart as soon as you see his stupid face.

“What the fuck, Namjoon.” You say as soon as the door opens.

“Yoong said you were going to show up.” He says and you can’t help but clench your fists at your sides.

“Didn’t realize you were so fucking close. But I guess I was wrong about you in general. How could you do this to me Namjoon?”

Namjoon’s shoulders sag slightly.

“I’m not sorry that I did it.” He says firmly. “I don’t think love is easy… but why would you run away from Suga when you really like him! You wouldn’t even have given him a chance.”

“That’s not your choice to make, Namjoon!” You yell. You can’t help it. You feel like the world is being swept out from beneath you. You had been anxious about telling Namjoon in the first place, and he just… fucked you over.

“I just didn’t want you to miss out on him and regret it. Why do you get to choose his destiny, huh?” Namjoon shoots back.

“I’m not looking out for him. I’m looking out for me.” Is all you say as you back away. You couldn’t be here. You honestly felt like you couldn’t be anywhere.

You walk away again, despite Namjoon’s protestations.

You had thought that coming here would give you some sort of clarification… or at least that you’d feel better after bitching out Namjoon. But in all honesty you just feel worse than ever. First you’d lost Jungkook, then Suga, and now Namjoon. It wasn’t fair at all.

You’re not quite sure why you’re pulling your phone out, not quite sure why you’re dialing who you’re calling. You’re about to hang up when he answers, voice sounding as good as you remembered.

“Y/N?” Taehyung asks, “What are you calling for?” He doesn’t sound angry, just confused. After all, it wasn’t often you sought him out over your other friends. The thought made you feel a bit guilty.  

“I’m sorry. Can I come over?” You hope that he says yes.

“Of course.” There’s no hesitation on Taehyung’s part. It’s a relief. “But, Y/N, I should warn you. Jungkook is here.”

***

You’d been sitting in Taehyung’s room for five minutes. All three of you crammed on Tae’s bed. Silently. To each boys’ credit, they weren't pushing you to tell them anything. They were just patiently waiting. And honestly, that was the most respectful thing anyone had done for you in the past twelve hours.

“I’m sorry for coming here,” you declare finally. “I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You’re not a burden. You can talk to me about anything, Y/N” Tae responds, shaking his head as if you’re being completely ridiculous. Jungkook nods as well.

“I know things ended weird between us, but I don’t want you to think I don’t care about you.” Jungkook says, earnestly.

“Do you want to tell me what all of this is about?” Taehyung asks. “If not it’s fine. You don’t have to say anything.”

Jungkook stretches softly, laying back on the bed still facing you.

“I don’t know if it’s appropriate, with Jungkook here…” How were you supposed to tell Tae that you’d slept with Yoongi when Jungkook was right next to him? God you were so stupid for coming here.

“Y/N.” Jungkook says. “I saw you walk out with Suga. I know you guys slept together. It’s alright.”

You blush and look down at that, your eyes beginning to fill with tears as your heart aches. You can’t stop the tears from falling, and so you cradle your head in your hands to hide your face from the two boys.

“Shit,” Taehyung seems genuinely distraught. “What did he do? Do I need to kill him? I’ll fucking kill him.” You laugh softly.

“Actually Tae…” You glance to the side, trying to subtly wipe tears off of your face. “I’ve been keeping something from you. Something that you deserve to know as my friend.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened.

“I… Tae, I have a soulmate.” Taehyung’s mouth drops open, and you remove your watch to show him the name scrawled across your wrist.

“It’s confusing, Tae,” you start, “but the important thing is that I don’t want to have a soulmate. I’m not interested.” Tae pauses for a moment at that.

“That kind of makes sense, actually. It’s like an arranged marriage from the universe” He says shrugging, and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

Of course Tae would get it.

“Yes! Exactly, oh my god.” Your eyes light up as if you’ve never felt happier. “But, the thing is… I didn’t know it but… Suga…” You trail off and Jungkook bites his lip.

“What do you mean Suga? What about him?” Tae asks.

“His real name, Tae,” you frown. “It’s Min Yoongi. And he knew this whole time, that he and I were soulmates. But he never told me. Even when he knew that I didn’t want to end up with my soulmate he didn’t tell me… and then… last night.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

It made you feel so torn apart inside. It wasn’t fair that Yoongi kept his identity a secret from you, and it wasn’t fair that it had felt so perfect. You just wanted a normal life. One with no soulmate at all.

“You slept with him last night.” Jungkook supplied. “Did he tell you that he knew about him being your soulmate?”

You shake your head no.

“Then how did you figure it out?” Jungkook asks.

“I saw it on his wrist, when he had fallen asleep.”

Tae runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. He mumbles that he didn’t see Suga as that type of guy. The type of guy who would take advantage of a girl.

“Shit… Y/N…” Jungkook says. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for, Jungkook? It’s my own stupid fault. We were both drunk. Too drunk to make that kind of decision.”

“Well…” Jungkook glances at you nervously. “Actually… I knew.”

“Knew what?” Your heart is pounding, there’s no way that Jungkook was keeping something from you too, was there?

“About Suga. About him being your soulmate. I knew. Namjoon told me.”

Namjoon had told Jungkook but not you? What the fuck.

Your face must have relayed the inner turmoil that you were feeling because Jungkook hurries to explain himself.

“I know I should have told you. I just, I couldn’t stand to lose you like that. What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh by the way, honey, that guy sitting across the table is the man you’re destined to be with’? I fucking couldn’t okay!” Jungkook isn’t yelling, but he looks angry. Angry at himself, at Yoongi.

“Jesus christ, did everyone know about this mess but me? Fuck you guys.” Tae jokes lightly.

In that moment you feel all the fight leave your body, as if this one last betrayal was too much. You couldn’t find it in you to be angry at Jungkook. Not when you needed to allocate so many emotions for Yoongi and Namjoon. You lay your head in Taehyung’s lap, an uncharacteristic show of affection between the two of you.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that, Jungkook.” You say quietly.

“Y/N?” Jungkook questions hesitantly. “If I make a suggestion, will you promise not to get mad at me?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head that you chuckle and nod at the younger boy.

“I know it might be the last thing you want to do right now,” he continues, “but I think you should talk to Yoongi. And Joon.”

“Why would I do that?” You’re not mad. But you wonder if maybe you need to get some more girl friends. Guys are the worst.

“Whether or not their actions were right, They were just trying to do what was best for you. And… to be honest, if I were Yoongi I would never stop fighting to be by your side. How can you blame him for something like that?”

“Jungkook,” Tae steps in. “He slept with her while keeping a huge secret from her. It’s creepy. How can he care about her if he’s willing to do something that he knows will hurt her so much?”

Damn. God bless Tae. You should’ve gone to him in the first place.

“That’s true, he really fucked up. But I mean, if you say that the both of you were drunk that means that he probably wasn’t thinking at all…” Jungkook looks off, and clenches his jaw slightly. He’s jealous--you can tell--but he’s reigning it in in order to help you. He was always the nicest boy. “Speaking from experience, it’s nearly impossible to say no to Y/N. Not… in those situations.”

“Are you saying Yoongi should get a pass because Y/N’s too fuckable?” Tae looks angry, and you’re happy that they’re arguing on your behalf. You definitely didn’t have the energy to participate much.

“Absolutely not.” Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m saying that Y/N shouldn’t just cut him out completely because of a mistake he made when he was drunk. We all do stupid shit when we’re drunk.”

Taehyung pauses for a second.

“Maybe.” Tae says. “It just doesn’t sit right with me. But, I never thought Suga was a bad guy. Does this make him a bad guy?” The question is directed towards you. You don’t know the answer.

“Y/N.” Jungkook says firmly. “You came here for advice, and that’s my advice. Talk to him.”

“Are you just saying that because he’s my soulmate?” You ask.

“No. And I think you should talk to Namjoon too. I’m saying this because we’re all friends. It’s just my opinion.”

“I think…” Taehyung starts, “that there’s a lot of things that must be going through your head right now Y/N. But, I just want you to know that there’s no pressure on either side of this argument. It’s your own personal business. We are just friends trying to help. If you choose to never speak to Suga and Namjoon again, that’s okay. But you also don’t need to feel obligated to hate them either. You’re allowed to do whatever you feel is right, and we will both support you as your friends no matter what.”

Your eyes start to water again.

“Taehyungie,” you blub quietly, “when did you get so wise?”

“When you and Namjoon were ditching me for Philosophy club.” He laughs.

“Y/N,” Jungkook says again. “You once told me that you think love is… a series of choices you make to tolerate another person’s bullshit. You are so damn worried that your soulmate will become complacent for loving you, but have you taken the time to get to know Yoongi?” You're surprised by his question. It’s rhetorical, you know, but still you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt at his words.

“It just seems to me that Yoongi wouldn’t be the kind of guy to just sit around and lose you. He’s so into you and it’s annoyingly obvious. I don’t think it’s just because your soulmates either. Even before he knew he acted differently around you. I personally think that you should just try to have some kind of connection with him, whether it’s romantic or not. I think you two are good for each other. Even though I still kind of hate him on principle.”

Jungkook can practically see the gears turning in your head as you consider his argument.

“Just try, Y/N. Try to put up with Yoongi’s bullshit for a little while. You’re never trapped anywhere. You can do whatever you want.”

You’re surprised by Jungkook’s little speech. And impressed. You knew he was a smart boy, but you’d forgotten all of the reasons why you had been so infatuated with him at one point. He was giving you advice, his honest advice, even if it meant that he had to watch you be with Suga. The reason your relationship had crumbled in the first place.

It made a lot more sense now, why Jungkook was so hellbent on keeping the two of you away from one another. You wish he had told you the truth as soon as you had found out, but there’s a heavy pang in your heart when you consider the prospect of never having gotten to kiss Min Yoongi.

It’s almost like in one night, Yoongi had wormed his way so deep into your heart you couldn’t get him out without losing something of yourself. You didn’t feel trapped though, and that alarmed you the most. You felt like you had found something in Suga, in Yoongi. And you were selfish. You didn’t want to give it back.

But what about principles? Your own morality? How would your decision change who you had always thought you were. Would it change anything at all?

You think of Jungkook’s words again. Would Yoongi become complacent with you if he had you? You don’t really think so, and for the first time ever you think of the differences between becoming comfortable with someone and becoming complacent with them.

You can’t help the images of domesticity that flash behind your eyelids. Yoongi cooking for you, helping you stay awake while you cram for finals, curling up together on his sofa as you simply exist in one another’s space. It all seemed like a dream. And regardless of what you had felt or thought in the past, you’re quite sure that you don’t want to lose Yoongi completely. Or, honestly, in any way at all.

“I should call him.” You say finally. “But I’m only texting Joon because I’m freakin’ mad at him.” The two boys laugh as you sit yourself up.

Sent [10:26pm]: Namjoon, I don’t hate you forever but also eat a dick. You owe me /so/ much pizza. And not the dining hall crap either. And NOT PINEAPPLE.

Received [10:27pm]: Yes, of course. I’m so fucking sorry Y/N.

You send him back the knife emoji, a cryptic “don’t do it again” attached.

Now though, was the really difficult part.

Calling Yoongi.