#I really like the way chloe came out

[ryp3004]

OKAY IN ORDER WE HAVE -

50's - Ryanne (my darling :D)

60's - Blair (@hsslilly-blog), Simon (@gutsfics), Galaxy & Nebula (@hssprimefan)

70's - Chloe (@highschoolstoryliveson)

80's - Louie & Sophia (@triciabeloved), Rosalyn (@oakwolves), Mac (@ih8harley)

90's - Rhys (@aliendxde)

2000's - Olympia (@cupofst4rs)

[dollfacefantasy]

clark kent x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, car sex, mating press a/n: ummm yeah i need him so bad it makes me ill <3

for as long as you'd known clark, you'd never known him to lose his temper. he was forever-patient, your boyfriend. understanding to almost a frustrating degree. especially with you, his little love.

he was already pretty easy to get along with, but on the rare occasion you did have issues, clark seemed to have a natural instinct for deescalating you. he never raised his voice, never spoke an unkind word about you, never gave you a look harsher than what could be described as stern.

all it took to calm you down was a glimpse of his natural puppy-dog eyes and pretty plush lips. his thick arms would circle around you and hold you to his chest. he'd sway back and forth with you a little, a small smile on his face as you melted into the embrace. whatever semblance of tension or irritation that had been bubbling up easily dissolved into a puddle between the two of your bodies.

so, all that to say, you didn't really believe clark possessed any kind of rough edge or combative instinct. despite his large stature, you couldn't really picture him ever being rough.

that was until tonight.

you and clark had planned to drop by some event at the talon, but your sweet boyfriend had warned you earlier that he found out there'd probably be some trouble there later. some potentially dangerous situation that he wanted you avoiding at all costs. it was for your safety. he just wanted you to stay home where he wouldn't be worried while him and chloe investigated.

but did you listen to him? of course not. you went anyways, not in the mood to listen to his vague explanations as to how he even discovered this information in the first place. you put on a cute little dress with some new shoes you bought specifically for the night and took off.

unfortunately for you, clark had turned out to be right. not even thirty minutes after you arrived, chaos broke out. people flew through walls and glass shattered everywhere, all because of some guy who looked like his body could stretch and bend like a rubberband. it totally sucked. but none of that was even the worst part. you survived the craziness of whatever that person's problem was. the real danger came when the dust settled and you saw clark across the room staring at you.

he looked pissed.

he was at your side in an instant, but closing the distance didn't soften him any. it kind of did the opposite since up close he could see a bloody scrape stretching across your cheekbone.

you could see he was worried first and foremost, but behind that concerned top coat a fire burned. as soon as your small wound had been tended to, his long fingers clasped around your bicep. he pulled you to your feet and all but dragged you out of the coffee shop.

"clark i-" you started in an attempt to explain yourself.

"save it," he said, voice as cold as you'd ever heard it, "i asked you for one thing. that's it. stay home for your own good. don't come out here and pointlessly risk your life."

"it wasn't that bad," you defend weakly.

"but why even take the chance?" he asked with true exasperation, "i shouldn't need to convince you that your safety is more important than whatever they had going on tonight."

he didn't continue the lecture beyond that. just walked with a clenched jaw and motivated stare in the direction of his truck. like always, he opened the door for you when you got there. though this time, he practically scooped you up and dumped you into the car.

he was silent as he drove, fingers tight around the steering wheel. you could practically feel the frustration rolling off of him. the urge to lash out for once was near spilling over. he pulled the car over, and you figured you were really in for it. in a way you were right, just not how you thought.

clark didn't bother yelling, didn't try to start a fight. he glared at you for a few silent seconds before leaning across the seats and crashing his lips against yours. he kissed you like he wanted to steal the breath from your lungs.

after a blur of clothing being shifted around and positioning body parts awkwardly in the confined space, you found yourself in the meanest mating press of your life.

you were folded in half beneath all of clark's weight. the points of your new heels scraped up the truck's ceiling while your knees squished against your chest. little squeaks and whines slipped their way out of you as his tip battered against your cervix. he was so deep you swore you could feel your insides rearranging to make room for him.

"clarkkkk," you mewled before biting your lip, desperately searching for some way to ground yourself. one set of your fingers gripped strands of his dark hair while the other held a fist of his flannel.

"what, baby?" he panted. for once, clark wasn't fawning over you between thrusts. he wasn't cooing or praising you for taking him so well. instead, he had his face against your neck and his hands wrapped around your waist, bucking into your dripping heat with enough force to rock the car.

you tried to force out words to convey what you were thinking. too big. too much. so deep. harder. faster. none of those made it though. only choked moans and then a sharp squeal when he rolled his hips and struck that extra-sensitive sweet spot inside you.

"someone's gonna see if they drive by," you whimpered, squirming underneath him.

"maybe you should hold still then and let me finish, huh?" he grunted, "no one's gonna see. everyone's in town dealing with the mess from tonight. the one i told you was gonna happen."

"i didn't think-"

"i know you didn't," he interrupted, "didn't use that pretty little head at all, did you?"

words of defense eluded you right now, his nonstop thrusts keeping your mind cloudy. instead you chose to whine, your lip quivering he rolled his hips deeper yet again.

"oh yeah?" he asked, as if you'd said something coherent.

you opened your mouth again to speak, to really argue back this time, but you were cut off by your own desperate cry when his hands tugged you closer and speared you even further on his cock. you could feel him grinning against your neck at the noise.

"i know, baby. i know you're sorry. you don't have to explain. thinking's too hard for you right now, yeah?" he cooed, his tone bordering on mocking.

your pout got more severe but so did the needy sounds escaping your mouth. you felt those long fangs of his scrape against your throat. his tongue then glided across the area, making you shudder.

"clark-" you tried to say something else, but he cut you off. he raised his head up and kissed you deep again, swallowing the words right from your mouth. when he pulled back for air, he rested his sweaty forehead against yours.

"you can be such a brat," he breathed, "so much whining even though i know you love this."

the truck creaked as his movements continued to jostle it. you felt his breath fanning across your face and watched as his eyes fluttered shut. you knew he was getting close, but so were you. your cunt squeezed around him rhythmically, coaxing him too the edge along with you.

"you gonna cum, baby?" he finally muttered against your lips.

you nodded eagerly, more than ready to release. it only took a few more hard thrusts to get you there, and clark followed along no problem. in the afterglow, he laid on top of you for a minute or so, trapping you in a cage of searing body heat.

when he finally did sit up, the two of you fixed your clothes and stretched your limbs. he looked over at you with more tenderness. your boyfriend's gentle temperament had seemingly returned with the relief his peak brought.

he cupped your jaw with his fingers, looking over that cut on your face. leaning in, he gave it a small kiss before starting up the car again.

"i'm just trying to look out for you, you know? just... please listen next time. i don't know what i'd do if you got hurt. you had me worried sick."

"i will. i'm sorry i scared you," you replied softly. your eyes studied the loving look in his eyes and the way his features seemed so at peace now that all his adrenaline was out of his system.

you grabbed his hand across the seats and traced little patterns on his knuckles for the drive home. he let you play with his fingers but shot you a glance.

"i'm serious. next time you get involved with something like that i won't let you off so easy," he teased.

you smiled and nodded, wanting to put his mind at ease. though in the back of your mind, a small part of you considered trying again some time, just to see what "not so easy" looked like to him.

[hollandsfavbabe]

Wet & Wild

pairing: art donaldson x reader

synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life

warnings: smut build up, porn with a plot, making out, cursing, frat party, art being stupid, happy ending dw, two parts because I cannot condense my writing for the life of me

word count: 4.0k

masterlist

“Swimmers…”

You curled your fingers around the rough end of the diving board, unconsciously holding your breath as you readied for the starting noise. The pool glinted below you, reflecting light from the glaring sun above that sparkled like the blue glitter polish on your toenails. But you ignored it, blocking out anything that wasn’t the signal as you lowered your neck.

“Take your marks…”

There it was. You tensed as the official hovered her finger over the mic button. She was about to send you off and there could be no hesitation once she did. Any second now.

“GO!”

You were already under as the crowd started cheering. Two laps,100 meters, that’s all that it took and you had already conquered a quarter of the length by the time you came up for your breakout strokes. You cut through the smooth pool surface leaving white water waves in your wake. You tried not to let your gaze stray anywhere away from the tiled black line at the bottom of the pool as you felt the competition slipping behind you.

As the wall comes into view at the other end of the 50 meter pool, you take your first breath of the race and pause your strokes for only a second to perform a nearly perfect flip turn. You only have one more length back before it’s over and you can claim the medal that is rightfully yours as you come up from your last breakout. Arms pulling and legs kicking almost frantically, you’re almost there, so close you can sense the touch pad waiting for you at the end. You zoom past the flags and…

“I can’t believe I lost by less than two tenths of a second!” you groan, taking a swig from the Heineken one of your teammates had handed you when you arrived earlier. More than 12 hours had passed since your race and yet you couldn’t stop thinking about your unexpected loss. It had plagued you still as you had made your way to the party a random fraternity had thrown, though your team considered it a celebration after the Stanford swim team took home another champion title. It was small in comparison to the larger meets you had won in the past, but it was a reason to stay out past the curfew your coach imposed on you. And any reason to stay out was good enough for you.

“You’re not actually upset about that, are you?” Chloe asked, one of your teammates who competed in the endurance free events. While you would consider yourself close to nearly every girl who swam with you, Chloe was more of an instant best friend.

You shake your head as she sips on her own beer. Unlike you, she had opted for a brand with a higher alcohol percentage as she was unafraid of hangover ridicule that inevitably awaited her at your next morning practice.

“Of course not. You know me, winning is only a plus. I just can’t believe I got so close to the record!”

It was true. You didn’t so much mind losing the first place prize to the opposing team in such an insignificant meet. What really had you grinding your teeth was the fact that you had only been a half of a second away from the official Stanford record. You weren’t sure where you lost that time in your race, whether it was one of your two breaths or if you needed to dive further out, but you were set on remedying every part of your race until the problem was solved. Your next meet was only a week away and unlike this one, it would be a much bigger deal.

“You got that girl,” Chloe assured you, patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “Half a second ain’t nothing for you.”

“I hope so. I’m not missing any more practices until I get it.”

Your conversation was disrupted as the room suddenly erupted in cheers, people gathering around the entrance as newcomers entered. You turned your head towards the noise, searching for whoever could elicit such a response.

You caught sight of him right away, a man you had never seen before though immediately prayed you’d never lose sight of. He was tall, his head covered in light blonde curls that were well trimmed to not hang over his hooded eyes. He was attractive, no doubt, but there was more to him than looks. There had to be. Anybody had to be more than attractive to get applause in a place like Stanford, especially within the frat parties.

“Who is that?” you nudged Chloe in his direction. She was normally more up to date than you on the campus celebrities as she didn’t get swallowed up by her swimming commitments as often as you. Chloe nearly choked on her drink as she saw him, turning back to you with a befuddled expression.

“You don’t know Art Donaldson? He’s like the most promising tennis student to ever play here.”

You furrowed a brow, staring at Chloe as if she had said something incredibly stupid.

“Do I look like I watch fucking tennis?” you gestures to your hoodie that clearly bore the words ‘Stanford Swimming and Diving’.

“Let me put it this way,” Chloe started, unoffended as always. “He’s already won the Junior US Open in the doubles category. He got second in the singles and at the rate he almost qualified for the real thing.”

“What’s stopping him?” You asked, looking back in the direction of the man who had now settled on the dance floor with a drink. You sensed a catch in Chloe’s explanation.

“That.”

Chloe pointed to the only television in the house that was conveniently showing a rerun of one of the man’s, Art’s, matches which from the date you could tell happened the same time as your meet. He was amazing, more skilled than any of the few players you had ever watched before, but even you, someone who knew nothing about tennis, could tell that he was playing like something was holding him back. Every ball out of his reach skirted to the fence behind him until he eventually lost. You couldn’t understand how a Junior US Open champion could miss shots that were arguably hard, but reasonable for a professional. There had to be more to it than what lay on the surface and as a swimmer you couldn’t stop the urge to dive in deeper.

“Oh no,” Chloe smirked. She knew you too well to miss when you were after something you wanted. And you weren’t sure by which mystical force you were being pulled, but you started to gravitate away from her. “You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna do a walk around.” you promised, standing from your couch seat beside her, though you were both certain she wouldn’t see you again until practice the next day.

“Good luck.”

You were careful not to approach him directly, instead jumping into a conversation with a couple of your teammates who happened to be chatting in his vicinity. After several minutes of receiving congratulations for your attempt at the record, the group surrounding Art had finally dispersed leaving him alone with his drink on the floor. Lucky for you, by the time he was without a crowd to bypass, your group had moved on to much more nonsensical topics. It was then, by chance or fate as you believed, that he just so happened to bump into you, forcing your drink out of your hand and his attention onto you.

The glass of your Heiniken sank to the group, shattering into a million dazzling pieces of green glass, but you were able to block it out with the focus of a swimmer as you felt his stare on you.

Through the flashing lights you were able to make out the shape of his face better, mapping out sharp jawlines and chiseled cheekbones. You decided then you preferred this Art, the one who smiled at you anxiously over his moving body on the tennis channel and by the slight intrigue on his face, you could tell he felt similarly.

“I’m so sorry,” he professed, looking down at the mess of glass behind you before his blue eyes again met yours “You okay?” He had to shout over the loud music, guilt evidently rushing through him as if he had shoved you to the ground rather than accidentally causing you to drop your nearly empty bottle.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Art, right?”

Art nodded, leaning in closer to you so that he could hear you over the blaring club music.

“Do I know you?” he asked, in awe that you knew his name as if it wasn’t being broadcasted all over the Stanford sport program.

“Not yet,” you laughed, pointing to the screen where you had just seen him, watching as a wave of embarrassment washed over him as they replayed the portion of the match where he lost it all, unbeknownst to you. “I was watching your game. You’re really good.”

“You play?”

“Not tennis.” you gestured to the logo on your hoodie, hoping the disco lighting wasn’t enough to distort the clear waves of the swimming logo. 

“Oh wow,” he marveled. “I didn’t even know we had a swim team.”

“What can I say? My sport’s not quite as popular as yours.” you shrugged, shooting him a smile.

“We’ve really gotta get you another drink.” Art pointed out as he took a swig of his own beer.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I just have to take care of this first.”

You turned around to the glass mess that waited for you only to find that your teammates had already handled it in the time you had spent getting introduced to Art, leaving the two of you plenty of time to get acquainted, mess free. You caught sight of them across the room sitting next to Chloe, smirking at you as you looked their way. You rolled your eyes at the sight.

Art had his arm offered out to you when you turned back to him, a guarantee that the two of you wouldn’t get separated on the floor as you headed into the kitchen. It’s there that the seconds fade into elongated hours as you get to know more about each other. You told Art all about your life on the team and why swimming was your calling out of all sports while he spilled to you every tennis affiliated memory from his childhood where you learned he attended a special boarding school for the sport. You made note of his humility as he never once mentioned his success on the Junior US Open and the high level he can play.

You finish the soda Art had gotten for you as the music in the main room increases in volume, forcing you to crane your neck in order to talk in his ear, leaning in so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s not much taller than you, but it’s enough to make a difference.

“I can’t hear anything with this music,” you admitted, speaking at a timbre that’s loud enough to be audible to Art without bursting his eardrums. “Do you wanna move somewhere else?”

You knew Art was joining you when he looked at you with consideration. But it was impossible for you to know exactly what he was thinking, staying ignorant to the fact that he supposed after losing his match and an evening with Tashi due to another scheduled Patrick reappearance, what did he have left to lose? He wouldn’t normally do this, but you look like the perfect contender for a brand new game.

“Let’s go upstairs.” he nodded towards the stairs to your left, accepting your invitation. “It won’t be as loud up there.”

And so you both made your way up the frat house staircase, passing by closed door after closed door until you finally found a vacant bedroom. While you don’t know who lives there, it was tidy enough for you to neglect caring as you followed Art inside and shut the door behind you. 

“I don't think I ever caught your name, by the way.” Art stated as he took a seat on the bed in the center of the room, leaving a space for you beside him..

“Oh, I didn’t say.” you chuckled in realization as you sat beside him, your name falling from your lips as you met the lumpy mattress.

“And this is your reward party?” he wondered, a thought you can’t help smiling at as you shake your head.

“Definitely not,” you took another swig from your bottle. “I don’t think there’s any real reason behind this besides to fuel college memories. If anything, they’d be celebrating you. You’re like famous right?”

Art’s gaze moves to the shag carpet below as he shakes his head of blonde curls, disappointment shrouding his face.

“Not quite,” he disagreed, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I don’t know if you saw the whole thing, but my match today wasn’t anything to celebrate.”

“Why not?”

“Because I lost.”

He stated it like it was obvious which only confuses you as a swimmer. All the work and dedication he must put into his sport all to think there was no yield. You couldn’t imagine basing your pride off of winning and winning alone when there were so many other components to competing.

“So?”

He’s startled by your nonchalance towards losing, something so foreign to him it isn’t even a refreshing take.

“So?” he repeated. “So I failed today. I let my team down. I let Tashi down.”

Tashi. You’ve definitely heard that name before. Though you don’t know much about the inner workers of tennis, everyone and their mother in the state of California knows who Tashi Duncan is. She’s the most famous person on campus, in and out of the tennis world. You didn’t know her personally, only ever seeing her when walking between classes. You also knew she had a boyfriend who didn’t attend Stanford from seeing them eating together. There had always been something off about her and now, with Art beside you in full self-deprecation mode, you figured you were about to find out exactly what it was.

“Is that who you were looking at?” you asked, piecing together that she must’ve been in attendance at his match. He immediately tensed at the mention, surprised you caught the simple detail. “I saw during your match. You looked like you were distracted.”

“It wasn’t just her,” he shook his head. “One of my oldest friends just flew for the weekend. He was there with her.” he paused. “They both saw me fail.”

“I’m sure they were both proud of you.” you assured, but Art was quick to set you straight as his friends didn’t operate the same way yours did.

“No, you don’t get it. I’m nothing if I don’t win.”

“Well it’s okay, you can just try again next time.”

“It doesn’t work like that. That’s not what tennis is about.”

You sensed a planted ideology in his evaluation, causing you to probe further.

“Really? So tennis isn’t just hitting balls with rackets over and over?”

“It’s more than that,” he informed you, taking no offense from your lack of knowledge. “It’s a relationship. It’s about the fight between two people. The back and forth until someone comes out on top. And even then the winning, it’s not nearly as important as the match. I didn’t just lose today, I let the crowd down. And my opponent won without the intensity of a good match. All because of me.”

You quieted as he explained, placing a careful hand on his shoulder as he finished. You felt for him, absorbing his sorrows like a therapeutic sponge, but it didn’t take a tennis expert to understand that bullshit behind his dogma. It sounded more like a manipulation technique than anything, all stemming from the same source.

“Did Tashi tell you that?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if your statement was any more outrageous than the lies he had been fed.

“It’s the truth.” he answered.

You weren’t sure how to get across to him, if it was even possible to crash through the wall of his beliefs in the first place, but you knew you had to try. It wasn’t right for him to harbor such disappointment over a match that did nothing to disprove his skill at his sport.

“Okay,” your voice softened as you thought of a way to challenge his theories. “Let’s change the subject. How about I tell you how swimming works?”

“Isn’t it more of the same?” he sighed, still overcomplicating his loss.

“Actually it’s very different.” you corrected.

“What do you mean?” Art asked, looking at you with the utmost intrigue.

“What if I told you that even the losers in swimming end up winning?”

Incredulous of the possibility, Art waited for further explanation.

“See like tennis, we have the players and of course only one person in each race can come out on top, but it’s not about beating the other players. Once you’re out there, it’s just you and the water. That’s the only relationship. It doesn’t matter where anyone else is, beside you, behind you, that’s not what’s not important. All that matters is how well you swim and if you lost a few seconds on the time board. Everything else is lost to the waves. And if your time is the fastest well, that’s just one big fucking bonus.”

Art sat with your words, unable to reply as he processes the possibility of winning as a loser. It’s almost too hard to imagine. You leaned closer to him, breath catching as his eyes moved down to your lips and one of his hands gently gripped your thigh.

“Really?” he asked.

You nodded, your faces so close now that your nose nudged his own.

“I didn’t win today either,” you whisper to him. “But my team screamed when I touched that wall. And do you know why?”

He waited for you to explain, eyes fluttering close for only a second as you laid a palm on his shirt, feeling the hard muscle that lay beneath. Your hands trailed to his sleeves, settling his bare skin a blaze as you take in his equally sturdy biceps.

“I almost beat a school record today. First time in 30 years if I had done it.”

“There’s no records like that in tennis.” he countered, but there was uncertainty in his tone. As if he was waiting for you to further back this new perspective. As if he was really starting to believe it.

“Then maybe you should take a page out of my book. Leave tennis in the past for now and focus on what’s here, in the present…” your lips brush over his before you mutter, “... focus on me.”

You're not entirely sure who initiated it, but before either of you could get out another word, his lips were on yours. You dove head first into the kiss, his lips melting against yours as you swipe your tongue out to catch the lingering taste of cheap beer at the edge of his parted mouth. It’s all so soft, like two cracked dolls who want nothing more than to break for the other until the intensity reaches its peak and you could feel microscopic beads of sweat forming at your brow.

Art pulled you in closer, gentle hands moving to your waist as the faint vocals of California Gurls played distantly in the background. His fingers curled into your sides, worming their way under the hem of your hoodie as they gave way to underlying desire, sparking every inch of your skin that they came into contact with.

You sighed as his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Pausing the kiss, he tipped his head back to jerk ever so lightly on your lip before allowing it to snap back into place and at once you crashed back into mouth, kissing him with a fervor you don’t remember ever feeling this intensely. Every movement, every change in the pace all worsened the heat igniting within you.

You tugged on the blonde roots of his curls that rest closest to his neck and soon enough you felt Art’s needy fingers claw at the waist back of your black athletic shorts. Though you're in desperate need of relief from the growing pool of desire at your core, you knew it was time to pull back. Art didn’t let you go so easy, his lips chasing after yours once you’ve broken the kiss, but it’s no use. You knew you couldn’t do this, at least not tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Art whispered against your lips, automatically assuming that it was his own fault rather than an independent decision of your own. It was certainly too intimate for a man you’d only just met, but you have to cup his cheek to keep from breaking as his own hands part from your skin.

You told him some form of the truth, that you didn’t think the timing was right. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you were dying to sneak another taste of his lips in and give him everything he’s ever wanted right there and then. But you couldn’t. Not when you know that it’s just another match. A distraction from Tashi. Especially not when you know that it didn’t have to be.

“We can’t do this here.”

Art face fell at your words, but he’s never been one to give up so easily.

“Then let’s go back to my place.” he offered, hoping it was just the atmosphere of the party that alarmed you. He wasn’t ready for you to leave.

“No, not tonight.” you frowned apologetically. “Not while you’re playing tennis.”

He stared at you in utter confusion as you stood up from your place beside him, dusting off your clothes as if you hadn’t been enjoying him all along. He didn’t understand the reasons behind your sudden switch, but he’s willing to risk it all in the heat of the moment.

“You want me to quit.” he suggested as if it’s a solution both of you are comfortable with. You turned back to him disturbed, shaking your head wildly at the proposal.

“Of course not, Art, you know that’s not what I mean,” you began, gathering an explanation that you hope will convey your reasons without making him feel like a complete piece of shit. “I don’t know what Tashi told you, but to me it sounds like she expects a winner. She’s programmed you into believing the player doesn’t matter without a title.”

You stepped an inch in his direction, close enough that you can see even the smallest details of his face, but not enough for him to touch you again.

“…but she’s forgetting that without the player, winner or loser, there is no title. Without a foundation, there is no relationship between you and the other player. And nobody can succeed if they’re scared of failure.” you explained further. You knew your words resonated with Art as his gaze turned to the stained carpet of the bedroom, but he had to pass the ball back.

“Well, you said it yourself, you don’t know Tashi.” he fired back, and you knew it’s only the tennis talking.

“You know I’m right.”

Art was silent, only proving your point. You knew you had to leave, but you had to promise him a second meeting, for him and for yourself. You wouldn’t be blocked from a happy ending by wrong timing.

“Come to my meet next weekend,” you invited him. “It’s the biggest one of the year. You should see how other sports operate.”

“I can’t see you before then?”

You almost smiled at the confirmation that his frustration wasn’t directed towards you.

“I have practice,” you shrugged. “- and so do you. You can see me again at my meet and in the meantime, just think about what I said. And know that you’re more than a loser, Art.”

You left without another word, shutting the door while silently cursing yourself for not taking the opportunity while you had it. It was very possible that you would never see the tennis star again, that every spark you felt with him in your first hour of knowing him was entirely one sided. You prayed it wasn’t true, that he had shown some feelings in return, but only time would tell. In exactly one week, you would be certain.

part two out now!!!

[wqnwoos]

⇢ pairing. chwe vernon x reader ⇢ summary. vernon loves music, and you love vernon. ⇢ genre. fluff, bffs2lovers, college!au ⇢ word count. approx. 2k ⇢ author’s note! happy (early) valentine’s day! i unfortunately wrote this last week which means it came so close to deletion at least 10 times, and so im posting it now to prevent that. thank you to alta @haologram for helping me brainstorm the playlist, i truly believe u are a gift to this world.

playlist. love language, kehlani / jasmine, dpr live / want u around, omar apollo & ruel / like i want you, giveon / thinkin bout you, frank ocean / best part, daniel caesar & h.e.r.

It’s closing in on two in the morning when you finally leave the library. Your phone’s been on do not disturb since you got there at seven, which feels like forever ago — as you exit, casting a sympathetic glance at the remaining two students still glued to their textbooks, you scroll quickly through your notifications. Two emails, a follow request, and a passive-aggressive threat from Duolingo.

You pull your coat tighter around you as you finally emerge through the last set of double doors — it’s freezing, and you’re just about to stow your hands deep into your pockets when your phone buzzes.

[2:03am] vernon 👽🖤 yo [2:03am] vernon 👽🖤 ur prob asleep but i made u smth [2:04am] vernon 👽🖤 https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4grGIbqG5VSvNpDLuwdG7X

Instinctively, you smile. You and Vernon have a bunch of playlists. A collaborative one, for when you’re together, driving or hanging out or whatever. Then he has one for you with all the songs he thinks you’ll like, and then you have one for him for the same reason. 

[2:05am] you another one?  [2:06am] vernon 👽🖤  yooo why are u still up dude [2:06am] you hypocrite 🫵 [2:06am] you but i’m walking home from the library rn

vernon 👽🖤  is calling . . .

“Dude,” he says, by way of greeting, and he doesn’t sound impressed.

“Dude,” you mimic exactly, biting back a smile at the sound of his voice.

“It’s two in the morning,” he sighs, and you can hear sheets rustling in the background. “Why are you walking home alone?”

“It’s not far, Vernon.” 

“It’s dark and it’s been snowing. You should have called me,” he reprimands without any heat. “I would’ve picked you up.”

“Well, it is two in the morning.” You cross the road, stepping over a patch of snow. “I assumed you’d be asleep, not curating another playlist.”

“Oh. Yeah, that — that was — have you opened it?” Vernon’s words trip over each other, and your lips turn up ever so slightly. God, he’s so sweet.

“What, are you nervous?” you tease, unable to resist. “I have, like, fifteen of your playlists saved already.”

“You haven’t opened it,” he infers, and exhales a little. “Okay, um, maybe you should… wait. Until the morning or something.”

“Yeah, right,” you snort. “I’m listening to it now! It’s going to keep me company on my way home. Talk to you later!”

And you hang up before he can protest, already scrolling to find the link he sent you.

The first thing you notice is the name — Love Language. Which makes your heart twist a little, until you realise it’s the name of the first song, and anyway, you and Vernon have made this joke a hundred times. His love language is making playlists, he does it for his friends all the time. You included — you especially. Like the time he’d eaten the last slice of a cake you’d bought, apparently because he thought it was free-for-all. You’d given him the silent treatment for a day and a half before he’d texted you a playlist link: 

I AM (IVE)

really (mimi bay)

Sorry (Justin Bieber)

About (SoKuen)

EATING (Sukihana)

The Cake (John Powell)

I Will (Remastered 2009) (The Beatles)

Buy (Cousines like Shit)

You (Basil Valdez)

MORE (j-hope)

Please Please Please (Sabrina Carpenter)

Forgive Me (Chloe x Halle)

It made you laugh, because Vernon always makes you laugh. A few months and a few playlists later, you were harbouring the biggest crush known to mankind.

That was three years ago. You and Vernon are seniors now, set to graduate next summer, and what was meant to be a harmless crush on a friend has turned into being completely, totally in love with your best friend. It wasn’t that serious until it suddenly was. It was butterflies in your stomach when you saw him, at first. Now it’s like a sigh of relief. It's more coming home. Which is a lot more dangerous, and a lot more painful.

You handle it, most days, but sometimes he’ll do something or say something that completely throws your perfectly regulated emotions into overdrive. He’ll laugh at a stupid joke you make, or he’ll grab your hand to make a point or he’ll tell you that you’re pretty, and your heart swells until it presses painfully against your ribs, hot and slippery and aching. Those days, you mostly go home just to lie on the floor, listen to the only playlist of yours that Vernon hasn’t seen.

The second thing you notice about the playlist Vernon made you is the cover. It’s you, you know it immediately, and you know exactly which day it was taken. You just didn’t know it was taken. But your best friend must’ve snapped a photo when you weren’t looking, because the cover is you, looking up at the cherry blossom tree that the two of you stumbled on during a late-night walk. It was maybe a little under a year ago, it was the night you realised you loved him, and it was the night you almost kissed.

You don’t know if he remembers it the same way you do. To you, that’s your biggest what if? moment. To him, it’s probably just another fun memory with his friend. His best friend, if you’re lucky.

It takes you a second, but you finally click play on the playlist — but the picture stares back at you, practically taunting you with the memory.

The two of you had been walking for twenty minutes, sharing airpods, until you’d seen the tree and gathered a pile of pink petals to dump over Vernon’s head; he’d realised what you were doing just a moment too late. Asshole, he’d said smilingly, brushing the petals off with two hands. Everything that happened next was cliché. He’d missed a spot, one pale petal still clinging to his hair; you reached your hand up to get it, and lingered a little too long, a little too close. You don’t think you’ve ever held eye contact for so long — it felt like forever and then some.

Until his eyes flicked downward. Only for a split second: if you’d blinked, you would’ve missed it, but you saw it, and it was enough to have you taking a step back. Not like this, you’d thought to yourself. You wouldn’t do anything like that. You wouldn’t throw years of friendship and an extended period of pining away so easily — you wouldn’t risk it over an impulse that Vernon was experiencing. If you couldn’t have all of him, you refused to even take one night. You’d rather not know than live with the memory.

You’re halfway through the second song when you finally snap out of the memory, and you can actually take a moment to glance at the rest of the playlist. To your surprise, it’s short — it’s only six songs — and more interestingly, you know all these songs. And Vernon knows you know them; some of them you recommended to him, some of them he’s sent to you already, and you’re still wondering what he’s thinking as the third song ends. 

Despite you claiming to be his best friend, you don’t always understand Vernon. Sometimes it’s little things, like how he fist bumps the cat on the street corner of his apartment. Sometimes it’s bigger, like the girl he dated last year. You didn’t understand that — or maybe you didn’t want to, because yes, you were well on your way to being in love with him, but he also didn’t tell you. You found out from Seungkwan (who was kind of triumphant about it, because he was always vying for the position of Vernon’s best friend, and he finally knew something you didn’t).

Mina was lovely. As if Vernon would date someone not lovely — he brought her to movie night after a month or so of them seeing each other, and she met your group of friends, and everyone loved her. Even you. And honestly, after excusing yourself to the bathroom to blink away your watery eyes, you convinced yourself that it was for the better: that this would be how you officially got over your best friend. So when Soonyoung asked you to go on a blind date with one of his friends the next week, you said yes. You and Wonwoo saw each other for about a month before you broke it off, and about a month after that, Vernon showed up at movie night without his girlfriend, and casually mentioned that they’d broken up.

Even the news of that didn’t do much to soothe you, because you’d quickly come to a conclusion while dating Wonwoo: that it would not be easy to get over your best friend. You knew you loved him now. You’d come to that realisation under the cherry blossom tree, a few months after both of your breakups, a year after you realised that you liked him like that in the first place. It’s been well over two years since you first fell for him, and you’ve been stuck there ever since — falling deeper and deeper because you refuse to pull yourself out.

Sometimes, on your most hopeful nights, you think that maybe Vernon could feel something too. Some nights he looks at you with a certain shine in his eyes, or when he hugs you he makes it last a little longer than usual. Some nights he opens his mouth to say something and the words get stuck in his throat, and he waves it off like nothing happened. Symptoms that are all too familiar.

Those nights are even worse, the ones where you go home and read too much into his every move, try in vain to stifle the hope that insists on clawing its way to your chest. Those nights are getting more and more frequent, and you don’t know how much longer you can handle it. Those nights, something in you is convinced he feels something, that maybe he could like you — on the very worst, you think he might even love you. But by the next morning, you’re dead certain that all you’ll ever be is a friend to him.

But now — today — you’re eight minutes away from home and nearly five songs in when it starts snowing, and at the same time, the cogs in your mind slowly start turning. You love these songs, Vernon knows you love these songs. You’re pretty sure they’re some of his favourites too; he’s always listening to them. And you’re so preoccupied with the realisation that’s sinking in, that same traitorous hope you’ve always shoved down stirring again in your chest, you barely even notice the snowflakes settling around you.

Because maybe you don’t always understand Vernon, but most of the time you do, even if it takes a little while — even if he has to spell things out for you, like his stupid cake playlist. Because that’s what he’s doing, you realise with a sudden jolt, looking at your favourite songs. Your favourite love songs. He’s spelling it out for you. That this is his love language; that he wants you; that he thinks about you; and as the last song finishes, just as you turn onto your street — if you love me, won’t you say something?

When you finally look up, you think you’re hallucinating. Because Vernon’s standing in front of your apartment building, holding an umbrella, and it startles you so much you actually stop in your tracks a few metres from him, blinking idiotically.

Vernon gives you a shy smile, charming and awkward. Your heart does the thing it always does when he looks at you like that; stutters, skips a beat, clenches tightly.

“You stopped replying to my texts,” he says, and the street’s empty enough that you can hear him, even from where you’re standing. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You don’t say anything because what can you even say? Where do you even start? You don’t have words — but you tap quickly at your phone with a sudden idea, and you hear the ping of Vernon’s phone from where you’re standing. You move closer anyway, smiling at the familiar furrow of his brow as he glances between you and the phone he digs out of his pocket. And you see the exact moment he registers what you’ve sent him, the smile that spreads across his face.

[2:39am] you https://open.spotify.com/track/5oO3drDxtziYU2H1X23ZIp [love on the brain - rihanna]

You and Vernon first met at a party. Seungkwan had promised both of you, separately, that it wasn’t a party, more of a small gathering between his friends, but of course, Seungkwan’s definition of small doesn’t match yours. And so you were kind of hiding in a corner, nodding your head and mouthing subconsciously to Rihanna’s Love on the Brain; you’d turned your head a few inches, and Chwe Vernon was standing a few metres away, doing the exact same thing. You guys had accidentally made eye contact and split into matching embarrassed smiles, until he’d sat next to you. He’d offered you possibly the most awkward fist bump ever, pairing it with an even more awkward, “So, uh, got love on the brain?” You’d laughed, and that was it — the beginning of you and Vernon.

Now, he pockets his phone again, but holds the umbrella out over both of your heads, which only makes you giggle. “You brought an umbrella?”

“It’s snowing,” he shrugs, but his smile is wide, “It’s just like… colder rain.” 

“Stupid.” What’s more stupid is the smile you can’t peel off your face. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” he counters, and you tilt your head with a sheepish smile. So many reasons, but one look at him and you forget them all.

“So,” he murmurs, slipping his free hand around your waist, “got love on the brain, hm?”

“Something like that,” you agree, and after three years of wanting and waiting, you finally kiss him.

a/n i linked the playlist vernon made at the top (yes i dug up one of my very old spotify accounts to do this). i have very mixed feelings about this one. it's kind of cheesy but so is most of my work, and anyway it's valentine's day!! so who cares!!! also once again this got a banner bc once again this picture inspired the whole thing. also wtf is up with tumblr ruining image quality!!!

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud

@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin

@icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars

@immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

@yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9

@lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

@iamawkwardandshy @twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere

@pearlesscentt

@sourkimchi @porridgesblog

[svnriseblvdd]

neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader

SYNOPSIS: with your friend iris in town, the two of you head to a house party, where your short dress and a game of pool send clark's thoughts running wild again.

WARNINGS: reference to perv!clark/reference to general perversion, clark thinks extensively about reader's panties, most of it's innuendo and allusions i won't lie, chloe makes a slight reference to sex on/over a table, random football player starts leering and staring at reader's ass, indirect description of a boner, clark gets a peek of reader's panties, doggy but no sex? (you'll see - they're in the position, but clothes and underwear are still on), clark is still dying for some action.

i might come back and rewrite this part at some point in the future, because i had a couple more ideas i wanted to put in but couldn't figure out at the time, and the ending falls a little flat - i knew i wanted something extra, but i think it just lacks what i wanted.

part one! part two! part three! part four!

Your friend Iris is across the room while music flows through the space, loud and deep, settling into your bones. She’s flirting with a guy from the football team. You’ve already assured her she will not be borrowing your bedroom if she decides to hook up with the guy, so she might as well go home with him or just find a room upstairs to use. This house belongs to one of the football players, they’re always throwing big parties. 

Since Iris headed off ten minutes ago, you’ve been hovering a little awkwardly near the couches, except now there’s two couples making out on one of them, and then the other is filled with a group of friends you’re pretty sure are stoned out of their minds. 

So now you’re just looking for anyone to talk to or at least linger by without looking weird and lonely. Someone you know. 

Your face lights up in a smile when you notice exactly the people you need. Chloe and Lana are across the room, Chloe clearly judging people and Lana nodding her head either to the music or to Chloe’s comments. Lana smiles when she sees you, waving you over to them. 

You cross the room, greeting them both with a grin and an excited, “Hi!” 

“Hey, you look amazing!” Lana compliments. 

“Thank you! You’re so gorgeous!” 

“Is your friend having a good time?” 

“I’d say so,” Chloe says, looking toward Iris, who’s mid-makeout with the aforementioned football player. Good for her. 

Speaking of makeouts with football players, you need to find Clark. 

Clark spies you from across the room on his way back to Chloe and Lana, drink in hand. As always, he thinks he might combust. Your dress hugs your figure, clinging like a second skin, and it’s so short that if he follows the lines of your legs from your feet up, it feels like they might never end. 

And as always, his mind wanders. He thinks about how easy it would be to pick you up, wrap your legs around his waist. How your dress is short enough that it would hike up all by itself, bunching around your hips and showing off your panties. His x-ray vision means that he could just take a peek, but he refuses. It’s bad enough that he thinks about it, but to actually invade your privacy, to perv on you like that? He couldn’t. Surely not. He’ll let himself resort to his fantasies. His fantasies picture all manner of things. 

Black, like the dress - lacy, very simple and nothing out of the ordinary really, but entirely sexy. A bold red, maybe - it leaves little to the imagination, it only really covers the bare minimum and leaves the rest so plain to see. But then he pictures something lighter, a pastel pink or blue perhaps. And that’s what sends his mind into a frenzy. Delicate, soft in its colour, cotton and lace, the prettiest he’d imagined yet. Just like one he’d seen on your bed that time he came over to help put your furniture together. 

He approaches the three of you nevertheless, pushing his thoughts into the back of his mind. 

“Clark!” You greet him with your bright smile. 

“Hey!” 

“I want to play pool, do you want to join?” 

“Uh, sure?” 

“Great! I’ll get it set up, you come over when you’re ready.” 

He watches you walk away, hips swaying gently as you approach the pool table. “She’s so into you,” Chloe mutters, laughing. 

“What?” He asks, eyebrows quirked. “No, she’s not.” 

“Clark, she’s just invited you to go watch her bend over a table. Trust me, she’s into you.” 

His cheeks flush red as he shakes his head. “No. No, she’s just- she says and does things without realising.” 

“Oh, she realises,” Lana says, laughing a little. “She wants you to notice her.” 

“I do notice her!” 

“Not in the way that she wants. Not that she can see, anyway. To everyone else, it’s plainly obvious that you’re head-over-heels for the girl,” Chloe says. “Now go. She’s waiting for you.” 

He joins you over at the pool table, where you’ve set it up. It’s only now that it’s just you and him that he realises you’re tipsy. He can see it in your eyes and the lazy smile on your face, and the way you stumble just a little into him, holding his biceps for support. 

“Ladies first,” he says, watching you smile wider and turn to the table. 

You walk to the other end as Clark lifts the triangle, and you bend at the waist, lining up your shot. You split the balls, and the game begins. 

Halfway through, on your turn again, you bend at the waist once again, this time a little closer to Clark. And this time, one of the football players, Nathan, stares at your ass as you begin to bend over. Before he can see any more, Clark steps in the way, blocking Nathan’s view and shooting him a glare. 

Nathan raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry, Kent. I didn’t know y’all were like that.” And he moves on. 

Clark rolls his eyes a little. 

Right towards the end, with you surprisingly in the lead - although Clark’s willing to bet that he’s at a disadvantage, given that most of his blood is travelling in the opposite direction away from his brain and somewhere it is not currently needed - you go to take another shot. You evaluate a few angles, then decide on one. Clark is leaning against a wall, watching you move around the table with careful thought. And then you find your ideal angle. 

The best place you can take this shot from and still have a chance at potting it is by standing right in front of Clark. 

So you stand there, and bend over again. Clark hadn’t seen it before, careful to move with you so that he never had to be standing at an angle where he’d see much, if anything, when you bent over. But this shot was far too difficult to predict where you’d go, nowhere was ideal. So he’d stuck where he was and begged whatever power there was that you didn’t need to stand in front of him. But the powers are betting against him. 

You bend over, so your torso is at a parallel angle to the table, and line up your shot. And Clark doesn’t mean to look, really. But just like in the car the other day when he’d glanced at your tits, your ass is right there. How was he supposed to know that your dress was so short he’d be able to see your panties? 

The best of his fantasies are fulfilled when he glimpses your baby blue underwear, just like he imagined it. Cotton, but he can see the beginnings of lace detail. It covers you well, until it reaches your ass, where the material begins to thin, and it becomes just a flimsy thing that rests between your ass cheeks. He’d imagined the thong before, not half an hour ago. But now he was seeing it. 

You stumble a little, out of nowhere seemingly, and he’s quick to grip your hips to stabilise you. And now his crotch is pretty much against your ass. Now it just looks like he’s about to take you from behind. 

“Uh-” He lets you go. “You okay?” 

“Mm-hm. I’m about to win. I couldn’t be better.” 

“Yeah, well, there’s still time, don’t get your hopes too high.” 

Except Clark knows it would take a miracle for him to win now. His head’s too clouded with lust, his brain is so deprived of blood it should be concerning, and he’s so hard it’s painful. He thinks he might just finish in his pants any minute. And if he didn’t know better, he’d think that you’re doing this to him intentionally. But you’re too tipsy and he’s seen the way you are normally, always saying and doing things by accident or without realising the double entendre. 

Or so he thinks. 

Thing is, you didn’t really come here with a plan to try to rile him up. You know it never usually seems to work - Clark’s awkward, and far too respectful to objectify you, even if you’re practically begging him to (or so you think). You love how respectful Clark is, really, and you’re glad he was raised right, but just once you want him to throw that out the window, be as depraved as he can be, lustful and carnal. He’s so easily-flustered and touch-starved, you know that he has to have locked up all those urges and desires somewhere. You really didn’t plan anything tonight, the tipsiness seems to have done some of it for you. 

When you win the match a little later, you cheer and jump in celebration, Clark smiling at you and keeping his eyes very much on yours. You hug him joyfully, and he wraps his strong arms around you. 

It was strange how a man so physically imposing could hold so much comfort. 

~~~ 

“So, how was your night?” Iris asks over a cup of coffee as the two of you sit in the Talon. 

You smile. “Pretty good. You?” 

“Very good.” 

Later on, when Clark arrives with Chloe, Pete, and Lana, Iris wiggles her eyebrows at you, and you roll your eyes before inviting them to join you. 

The others all take their seats, leaving Clark to sit next to you. 

He looks flushed, but you choose not to comment. 

taglist;

@artyandink

@blueeweeb

@ssnapsaurus

@i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this

@milestellerismybf

@purple-1995

@writergiih

@elysianrosie

@glennussy

@rainwaterxx

[bugisastranger]

Could I please have angst with a happy ending with Best friend Clark, where you’ve been pining after him for the longest time, but he’s still after Lana. So you give up and start going on dates/bars to get over him, and he’s confused at the sudden emotional distance because you’ve never done that before, and he finds himself jealous. 🙏🙏🙏

a/n: sorry this took a bit anon! i am such a busy gal this semester </3. this one's a lil long - might not be as angsty as you were hoping but i haven't written angst in agessss so i apologize. ty for the req my love!

"who's this?"

is what you hear before you can even turn your head to see clark approaching you in the beanery. you had figured he wouldn’t even be here—he’d surely be supporting lana at the talon—but clearly the world had a way of taunting you, because you’d recognize his voice anywhere.

“clark,” you start, finding it absolutely unbelievable that he found a way to worm himself into your life regardless of how much you tried to avoid him. “this is steven. steven, clark—my friend.” you give a pointed look to clark. “what’s up?”

“oh, i just wanted to see you.” you’re kidding. as often as clark says things which make you double take, this is not a time you doubt what he means; even your date is baffled by his words.

“i wanted your help, actually. with my english project," clark says, and it almost seems like he came up with that on the spot.

“what? clark, you’re good at english.” there is no way.

“well, this one’s giving me trouble.”

“i… can it wait? or can’t you ask chloe?” you try urging, hoping it'll make him get the hint.

“chloe’s busy.”

“okay, whatever, i can come by later.”

“i have a thing later," clark says, and it's taking all of your power not to strangle him. he never even acted this way if you were talking to people he knows.

“a thing?”

“yes, a thing." you roll your eyes, finding clark's behavior beyond absurd.

“you know what – i was gonna go soon anyway,” steven says awkwardly, standing. 

“no, stay. clark was just going." you jump to your feet, trying to resolve the situation.

“no, i wasn’t!”

“oh my god, clark shut up!” 

“i’ll call you, okay?” steven grabs his jacket, and that’s when you know that clark has entirely ruined this for you. 

“are you sure? i’m sorry about him, he’s—”

“i’m what?” clark interjects.

“intruding.” you finish, and it's clark's turn to roll his eyes. “i really am sorry about this, my friends usually don’t interrupt my dates, i promise.”

“that’s okay. it was nice spending time with you.” 

steven isn’t even out of earshot when you start scolding clark, swatting him with a magazine off the table. “are you serious?! what is wrong with you!”

“what’s wrong with me?”

“yes, you!”

“you’ve been avoiding me for weeks!”

“what are you talking about?” you ask, trying to play dumb.

“what am i talking about?" clark touches his hands to his chest, confused how you're turning this on him. "are you kidding? you used to hang out with me nearly every day, and now i barely even see you at school.”

“and?”

“and?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up. “and i like spending time with you? i care about you? is that seriously something i have to tell you?”

“maybe it is,” you say, hands moving to your hips.

“who even is that kid? you didn’t tell me you were going on a date.”

oh. oh.

“that’s what this is about?”

“uh. yeah. you tell me everything." the sass in his voice is a quick reminder that you have such strong feelings for clark, but you try to push that thought away. and clark's right, anyway. you would typically tell him most things.

“i do not tell you everything,” maybe it’s the way that you say it—or maybe it's just the sentiment in itself—but clark furrows his brows, the sentence hitting him like a punch.

“what don’t you tell me?”

“i don’t know, clark—things!” but you do know, and it’s that you’ve been harboring feelings with him for god knows how long. “you keep secrets from me all the time. i don’t pry.” and that seems to shut him up. “listen, can we not talk about this now? let’s go back to yours.”

“okay. okay, yeah,” he says, walking towards the door and holding it open for you. on the walk back to his house, you start talking about other things—the english project that he didn’t need your help with so urgently, the errands his mom had him run earlier, and what chloe had been telling him about yesterday.

clark’s english project took far less time than he’d hoped, and he was only able to keep you an extra half hour because his mom joined the conversation. and when you left, that only made the cut deeper, because she brought up how she’d barely been seeing you around lately. he doesn’t see you the next morning at school, and barely catches sight of you at the end of the day, talking to steven. he’s about to walk over there, interrupt the two of you again, but pete appears in front of him and drags him over to the torch before he can protest.

the next few days pass slower than time ever has for clark. it’s like he’s spending every minute thinking about you, and he doesn’t even realize why until it hits him that he’s been seeing lana with whitney and it doesn’t make him feel the same way it used to. the only thing making him feel that way is you. that realization occurs in his math class, and he nearly thinks that he’s around some of the meteor rock because of how it makes him feel. he’s lucky that his actual teacher is out sick, because when clark comes back from the bathroom, he’s already thinking about what he’s going to say to you.

“please open the door, please open the door, please open the door,” clark whispers to himself as he rings the doorbell. it’s not too long until the door’s creaking open, and luckily it’s you—not your parents—on the other side. “hey.”

“hi.”

“how are you?” he stalls.

“i’m fine. you?” you ask, leaning against the doorframe. honestly, it kills you to be so cold towards clark, but there’s not another way you can imagine to get over him. every second you’re with him is indescribable. 

“i wanted to talk to you, actually.”

“okay.” you look back into the house before stepping out front, shutting the door gently behind you. it’s a moment of you looking at him expectantly before he takes a deep breath, preparing himself for your reaction.

“i don’t think you should see steven anymore.”

“what? why?”

“i just don’t think he’s the guy for you.”

“okay, well, that’s a really great and specific reason, clark,” you say sarcastically. “what do you have against him?”

“i don’t have anything against him!” wrong. “i just don’t want you going out with him.” and wrong thing to say. 

“you don’t get to control who i go out with, clark.”

“that’s not what i meant–”

“what did you mean, then?” you ask, angrily. it takes clark by surprise, really, ‘cause he can’t remember the last time you’d snapped like that, and he never thought you’d react that way to him.

“i just think you deserve better.”

“you don’t even know him! you have no idea how he treats me.”

“just trust me.” clark looks down at you with what you can only describe as puppy eyes. “come on, i know you trust me.”

“i do trust you—usually—but this is so unlike you.”

“this is unlike you! you never talk about boys or going out with anyone or—”

“yeah, well maybe i had my eye on someone.”

“what?”

“nothing, clark! nothing.”

“how does you being interested in someone mean that you don’t ever talk about them?”

“god, clark, you’re so blind,” you mutter under your breath. “because it’s you!” oh. 

“what?” clark replies, his eyes wide. it doesn’t even cross his mind what it actually means, he’s just so shocked. “what?”

“you heard what i said.”

“no, yeah, i did. but what?” “i’m not repeating myself.”

“how long?”

“i’m not answering that, clark. that’s humiliating.”

“no, it’s not. i—” he takes another deep breath, shaking his head slightly. “i’m jealous.”

“what?”

“of steven, i’m jealous of him. and i—i don’t really know where it’s come from, but i don’t want you seeing him, i want you seeing me,” clark’s words make you still, the anger being drawn out of your system. “i miss you,” he adds quietly. 

“okay. wow. that’s… okay.”

“okay?” he teases, taking a step forward with a smirk. it’s starting to set in that you feel the same way, and he suddenly doesn’t feel so bad about the way he’s been sneaking glances at your lips this whole time. clark watches you grow a little nervous, starting to fluster, and he’s kicking his past-self for never realizing how cute you are. 

“i’m nervous.”

“i can tell,” he smiles, the toothy grin nearly making you implode. “so, what does this mean?” 

because of how close clark is, you’re having to really look up at him, and though it’s already hurting your neck, you can’t make yourself look away. “i’m not gonna talk to him anymore. i wasn’t going to, anyway. it’s not fair, using him to get over you.”

“was it working?” you shake your head. “good.” he’s staring down at you for another moment, and the silence isn’t awkward. all he’s waiting on is a sign, something to tell him that you actually do want him—more than just words. then you’re looking at his lips for a little longer than a simple glance, and he’s bending over, leaning in. clark would be lying if he says he’s not nervous, but he’s wasted so much time being blind to your feelings that he won’t do it any longer.

clark snakes a hand around your body, pulling you closer to him as he presses his lips to yours in what can only be described as a rom-com kiss. it feels that way, too, and he has to force himself off of you. he almost wants to apologize for how eager he is, but he doesn’t.

you stare at each other for another moment, like neither of you really knows what to say, and then you look to the side, half hiding your face as you try not to giggle out of excitement. “um, i have to go back inside. my parents are…”

“yeah, that’s okay,” clark says, beaming. “let me take you on a date. are you busy later?”

“no, later works,” you nod. clark huffs at how adorable it is, before glancing back at the front door—making sure nobody’s looking—and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“i’ll come get you at six.” he starts to walk off before turning back around, “and, uh, maybe wait a second before you go back in. your face is all red.”

[eunnieboo]

IYHM ask replies! (2/3)

🌸 @csevet asked:

hi my copy of iyhm just came in and my fiancee and i snuggled up and read the whole thing cover to cover and CRIED!!! i love when lesbians 💕💞💝💗💝💗💘💞💖💗💝

AHHHHH thank you SO much!!! OMGGGGG 🥺 live laugh lesbian..... 💞💗💖💕💖💞💕💖💗

🌸 @chrysalis-the-butterfly asked:

I read If You'll Have Me a few months ago and I loved it! Your art is so pretty and Momo and PG are such cool characters! 🥰 If you're okay with sharing, I'd be interested to hear what inspired you during the creative process? Were there any pieces of media or any other characters which influenced the formation of Momo and PG? Or did you do your own thing?

oh my gosh! thank you!! i really love character interactions and relationship dynamics, so i wanted to depict two girls who seemed like opposites - one cool and laid-back, the other soft and sweet. after a while they started to take on a life of their own, and i thought it'd be wonderful if their story could evoke the feeling of a shoujo romance!

i had a lot of things on my mind when i wrote the script... friendship, intimacy, communication... communication can be so hard! sometimes it's harder with someone you're close to because their opinion is so important to you. and what happens when you've got a character who's non-confrontational and has low self-esteem + someone who prefers actions over words, and would rather burn bridges than admit to feeling vulnerable? how would they get past that? i wanted to write their flaws as believable, and how their life experiences have shaped the way they think about themselves / the way they respond to personal conflict... but also how they learn from each other and grow ❤️ tysm for the question!!

@bisexualgoof asked:

Hi Eunnie! I just finished reading “If You’ll Have Me” and let me tell you, it was spectacular! I saw it in a local bookstore the other day and it was a no brainer to grab. The characters are so fun, the story is beautiful and heartfelt, and honestly every character is attractive… I especially fell in love with the pages of the books without words, especially 312-313, it made me cry. Such beautiful art! I related to PG’s annoyance with her long hair, I felt very seen with her comments. I’ve definitely said “I’d like to forget” so many times myself, right to my butch heart haha. Thank you for sharing this story with the world, and thank you in particularly for your acknowledgment at the end of the book, it made me feel seen. What an amazing love story, hope to see more of this adorable couple in the future!

oh my goodness!! this is so lovely and wonderful and ahhh T_T thank you so very much. it's such a dream, having these girls be out in the world with their personalities and backstories revealed at last! and i'm so happy to hear about the cast and side characters, i love designing people hehe ♥ i'll definitely keep drawing this couple, alongside more sapphic couples that are to come 😍 thank you!!

🌸 @skittles-rainbow-cat asked:

HI HI HI!!! you’ve been one of my fave artists forever and i just got done with iyhm and it’s sooooo amazing im in love with it. also i think strawberry blonde by chloe moriondo fits mono and pg very well :] i hope you’re having a good day and thank you for all your art it heals me in many ways <3333

HIIII omg!!! thank you so much! this song is so cuteeee oh my gosh this line:

Takes my hand in hers when the lights aren’t on Smaller than mine and oh god I am gone

it's so sweet ;_; thank you forever, i hope you're having a wonderful day!! <3 <3 <3

🌸 @lord-of-the-froggies asked:

Howdy Eunnie! I know you're probably swamped with work right now, but I just wanna let you know that I got my copy of your book today!! I'm gonna start reading it right away, it looks and feels amazing. From a fellow Washington artist to another--congratulations on such a huge achievement!

yay hello fellow washingtonian! and fellow artist!! thank you so much for your kind words 🥺 and i'm so glad the book got to you safely! wishing you a happy read~

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I just found your art today and after scrolling through your stuff I went and pre-ordered your book. I'm so excited!!

omggg thank you that means so much!!! ;_; <3

🌸 @ddooyoung asked:

I got my (signed!) copy of the book, and I love it SO MUCH. It's everything I was hoping and more. I love finally getting to know them, especially Momo. Since the first time I saw them, I thought Momo was a lot like me and now I have confirmation 😆 Thank you so much for writing such a wonderful story!!! I'm excited for everything you do 💗

WAHH thank you so much!! yesss i'm so overjoyed to finally share their story after so long! i hope the signature turned out okay, i was very nervous signing books for the first time (shaky hand and everything) 😱 i think next time it would be fun to make a custom stamp and stamp a doodle next to my signature hehe. thank you again!!! 💕

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I somehow missed the news about your having created a whole damn book?? was just flipping through yu & me books's holiday gift guide and did a double take when I saw priscilla and momo!! zoomed in and sure enough, there was your name at the bottom! congrats on ihym and congrats on being featured on rec lists from shops as cool as yu & me 🎉😍

omggg thank you thank you!! 🥰 AHHH yu & me books looks so amazing! i've been to new york just once but if i ever get to go back i have to visit them... i'm always looking for indie bookstores to throw my money at 😤

🌸 Anonymous asked:

1. Will there be an “if you’ll have me” sequel? 2. Is Momo her full name or a Nick name? If it’s a Nick name what is her full name? Thank you i love your work! ❤️😊

ahh there's no sequel planned as of right now! but i'd love to make one if i get the chance... i have some ideas that i think would be fun <3 and momo gardner is her full name! i liked gardner because it made me think of flowers ☺️❤️ thank you so much!!

🌸 @upsidedown-shadow-dreamer asked:

Hello, long time fan here. If You'll Have Me was delivered an hour ago and I've already finished my first read. OMG it's AMAZING. I love the story, the beautiful art, the inner thoughts, the pacing, the page color changes for back story… Just major WOW. I hope you are so proud of this work. I'm already looking forward to reading it again. Thank you!!!

this is sooooo AHHHHH T_T i'm in tears. i can't tell you how happy and thrilled i am to hear this!!! it's so encouraging and uplifting and ahh!! i want to make more stories... and just knowing that this book will be read by the same person more than once, omg! it's truly the highest of praise. thank you from the bottom of my heart <333

🌸 Anonymous asked:

Hello!! I just remembered I could borrow graphic novels as e-books from my local library, found IYHM, devoured the entire thing in one sitting, then went through your tags so I could look at all your other IYHM art, and I was wondering if you'll make more stories about Momo and PG because I can't get enough of them! Absolutely obsessed with these two and I love seeing them so happy together 💖💖💖💖

hello!! oh i'm absolutely over the moon about this! i can definitely see myself making a follow-up book if i'm so lucky 🙏 but i'll keep on drawing more minicomics and illustrations no matter what!! thank you so much for this wonderful message 💕💕💕💕

🌸 Anonymous asked:

hi!! love love love your art!!! do you think we can expect to see another graphic novel about momo and priscilla in the future?

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I’ve read IYHM so many times already and I absolutely loved it!!!! Are you planning on writing another book with Momo and PG? Is is there a way we can buy more of your stories?

thank you both so much!!!! <3 a sequel is actually one of the ideas i pitched for my second book! my editor cautioned against it in case IYHM didn't perform well, so i ended up going in a different direction - but my fingers are crossed for future opportunities 😤 realistically, it will probably depend on sales... but for the record, i'd want to do one regardless of the numbers...

i have one more book coming out, which i'm working on right now! the timeline is a bit up in the air atm but i'll try to keep everyone posted. making a book is so slow but i'm so grateful to you all for waiting 🥺💛

🌸 @randomqueernoun asked:

Do you make webcomics for other apps/websites? If yes where can I find them and what do I search in them to find your comics?

ahh not at the moment! but thank you SO much for the interest! one of my biggest goals right now is to set up a website where i have all my work in one place, and that would definitely be the place where i post future webcomics 👀

also, just as an aside... i want to make webcomics so bad. i think after my next book, i might take a break from traditional publishing to do that. sometimes i can't believe i'm drawing hundreds of pages i can't post... i'm like, how are people supposed to read this if i can't show them? how will they know?! ahh it kills me... but yes... someday!!!

part 3 to come~

[mr-walkingrainbow]

DESCENDANTS: The Rise of Red! (or the REAL hidden story in the movie + what’s gonna happen in the sequel THEORY!)

So we ALL watched the movie right? We ALL thought the plot sucked and the movie ended abruptly with a underwhelming climax?

WELL HERES WHY WERE WRONG!

So I did some really deep thinking, and I figured, these writers can’t be THAT stupid? The director can’t be THAT idiotic, lame, and boring? That would just embarrass Disney, not to mention all the well respected actors that are in this!

So I thought hard. I thought hard and I thought long. Like hella long. And I tallied up all the plot inconsistencies, all the weird explanations, all the very specific lines in songs, and I did it. I fixed descendants rise of red! I FIGURED IT OUT!

So!! Here it is! What TRULY happened that crowncoming night! And what going back in time actually did!

(I intentionally put a keep reading so if anyone wanted to avoid spoilers they can)

So! Now that we’re under the keep reading. Anything spoilerly can be said!

So first things first. The biggest theory everyone is saying.

ELLA DID IN FACT POISON BRIDGET!

Yes! I said it! We all thought the movie was leading to this! So it was underwhelming when it was revealed it was Uliana and her crew were the origins behind the prank.

OR WERE THEY?

We all saw that once they opened the book; they were frozen. Because they were ‘bad’ and Merlin’s security system was set into place.

And many of you came up with the giant plot hole that this would have happened REGARDLESS of whether Red and Chloe interfered.

AND YOUR RIGHT!

This sole reason, is why the group COULDNT have done it! Not only were they frozen, but they couldn’t read the recipe, and were properly sent to detention, ergo exonerating them from being at the dance! Meaning their was literally no way they could have been behind the prank!

So with them being withheld from the dance, who could it be? Who was the one person who was originally at the dance, but now no longer could be? What was the one actual change that Red and Chloe set off?

ELLA. AND THE VASE!

We all see that when the two go into Ella’s house, Chloe knocks over a Vase. Breaking it. Lady Tremaine GROUNDS Ella! Meaning that she COULD NOT go to the dance!

This DIDNT happen originally! Meaning Ella DID go to the dance in the original timeline! Which is proven when Cinderella (I’m calling Adult Ella, Cinderella) talks to The Red Queen (I’m calling Adult Bridget The Red Queen) about how the prank being pulled was wrong. She had first handed knowledge of the prank. AND she told Chloe she fell in love with Charming at the dance.

But! Since Ella is the only difference in the two timelines in regarding to the dance, this is PROOF that she was the one who actually pranked Bridget, NOT Uliana and her crew!

So here’s what I think happened!

Ella, who saw Bridget being bullied about the cupcakes, and saw Uliana take all the cupcakes. And promptly being threatened by Uliana. Decided to bake Bridget something to cheer her up. However Bridget literally has all of the cookbooks in auradon. As shown. So she snoops around and finds Merlin’s cookbook! (Because it’s also shown she’s okay with breaking the rules if it’s for a good cause. From her get our hands dirty song!) and double and, the book WOULD open for her because she is a good person. AND she was doing it for a good reason!

she flips through the book and finds some simple blase recipe that cheers Bridget up. Maybe gives her cool hair (Red hair??). Something simple but sweet.

However. While doing this, she happens to see the Monster food recipe. She doesn’t look at it for long of course. Just enough to remember it’s a thing.

BACK TO BRIDGET!

Now! I swear to whatever’s out there that the person who played Chloe said there was a queer character in Dedcendants 4. I can’t find it now but it was some tumblr or insta post. I know cause I immediately told my friend afterwards.

Anywho. I think Bridget is the queer character! We see in the movie her only friend was Ella. Not only that but she YEARNS for someone to care about enough to ask her out (in a romantic way like charming just tried to do for Ella) Ella, who again. Is Bridget’s only friend. And ergo, shows her love no one else does, IMMEDIATELY asks her to go to the dance with her! (Might have said as friends in the other timeline too. Who knows)

But! This only makes Bridget’s crush on Ella even BIGGER. And she falls in love with her! She probably thinks they might have a chance!

This is also somewhat proven by The Red Queens song ‘Love Ain’t It’

Title ; Love Ain’t It

Red : “With all the Grief you’ve experienced”

Red (Speaking of Cinderella) : So you Knew her?

The Red Queen : I saw through her. Cinderella and I were classmates in a way.

(Notice how she uses Ella’s mocking name after she has time to recover from the interaction. She said ELLA originally when she caught her off guard. Also. The line. I SAW THROUGH HER. It’s a double edged sword. Saw through her fronts. Saw the hurting girl inside. Saw through her LIES saw the mean girl behind)

Proven by the next lines

The red Queen : I spent way to much time in this place

So I had to escape

the people might smile

but their two faced, too fake.

Girl was relentlessly bullied and betrayed by someone she loved

And Ella Knows it.

Cinderella : Some people act mean at first, because their too afraid to feel

[the reverse is also true]

Cinderella : Look hon. Back in high school, a mean prank was played

And ever since that fateful day

She was never the same, it’s quite a shame.

So the Red Queen sings a whole song about how Love isn’t it. And we ALL KNOW that her only connection to love as a kid was through ELLA. meaning Bridget HAD A CRUSH on Ella. Was IN LOVE. With Ella.

So. How did Crowncoming originally happen you ask?

Here’s my theory

Ella and Bridget go to the dance. They are happy! They have fun. Bridget falls further in love with Ella. Meanwhile. Ella falls in love with Charming!

Her and Charming hit it off. And Ella starts to feel loved and appreciated for the first time in her life.

Then, Bridget performs her ‘Shuffle of Love’ dance. All the attention is on her! Even Charmings.

Ella feels robbed. She feels jealous. She feels angry that her friend is stealing the one good moment she is finally having to herself.

And so she briefly remembers the spell. And in a moment of error, she either A. Remembers the recipe already and makes the recipe. Or B. Re-Sneaks back into the office to see it. However I’m going with A because the book wouldn’t have opened again for Ella because of her bad intentions.

Whichever way. Bridget eats the baked treat. (I think it was a cupcake. Ella could have lied and said it was from the earlier batch)

And then. IT HAPPENS! Bridget is turned into an ugly terrifying monster. Everyone LAUGHS at her. Everyone makes fun of her

And Bridget, who is confused, understands only ONE person could have done this to her. She looks at someone she was in love with. And just sees Ella and Charming laughing. Laughing at her. Bonding over laughing at HER.

Bridget runs off. In tears. Broken inside. With an equally broken heart.

Maybe if Ella had immediately realized her error and run after her she would have turned out differently. But no. It is proven that Ella stayed at the dance and stayed with Charming. They wouldn’t have had the chance to fall in love if she left.

So Bridget. Spends the rest of the night terrified. Looking like a monster. And being laughed and screamed and made fun of everywhere she goes. And not only that. But her ONLY FRIEND. Her CRUSH. Someone she TRUSTED did this to her

Now THIS! THIS is something can break a person. This is something that can change their views on the world. On humanity itself. She was a kind girl. Was kind to everyone no matter how meanly they treated her. But through it all, Ella was her rock. Her friend. Her secret love. Someone who was good and kind through it all.

But she betrayed her. Tbe one nice person betrayed her. Showing that being nice doesn’t do it. Being nice does not mean good things happen. Being nice doesn’t is worthless if this is what it gets you. Everyone is two faced. And the only thing that’s real. The only thing she CAN feel. Is hurt. And pain. And fear. And so that’s what she swears to become. That’s what she swears to do. Be mean and cruel and heartless so she never has to feel all this pain ever again. So her eventual DAUGHTER never has to feel this again. It’s better to be alone and feared. Then alone and broken.

Ella probably realized the error of her ways the next day. But as she said. It was too late. Bridget was never the same.

This Explains why they had so many odd interactions. The raw feral burning chemistry between them. All the odd phrase. Why The Red Queen would be okay sending her BEST FRIEND to death. Why she would be okay killing her. And taking over auradon. To Her? Cinderella is the one who made her this way.

but also part of her still remembers. Still cares. It’s why she gave her once chance to kneel to her. (And as we’ve noted in the books and movies. She doesn’t give ANYONE else a second chance. She punishes I’m immediately and harshly)

And so! With all of this happening. Theirs gonna be some catylist in recent times. The Red Queen might be nice now. But something will have changed. Ella never went to the dance. (She clearly fell in love with charming somewhere else cause otherwise Chloe would have disappeared) but something happened when she wasn’t at the dance. Something that caused another problem. And THATS gonna be the sequel to this movie. Descendants : Rise of Red part two.

(as we’ve seen the official script for the movie is literally called Descendants : Rise of Red part one. MEANING they wrote it with the purpose of being part one to either a sequel or a threequal)

And THAT! Ladies and Gentleman, is what I think the REAL plot behind Descendants : Rise of Red is! A movie that is not idiotically not thought out at all, but really something so secretly genuis is blows your mind!

Hope you enjoyed!

[writersblockiskillingme]

hi! could you write a chloe x red x fem!reader (ben's younger sister) imagine where the reader is sick and they take care of her?

Sick Days | Chloe Charming & Red

Pairing: Chloe Charming x Red x fem!reader (Ben's!younger!sister!reader)

Summary: Being sick certainly isn't fun. Luckily, girls are always ready to take care of you.

Warning/s: fluff, short fic, like really short fic, sickness, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: My Wi-Fi sucked the whole day yesterday AND today, so I'm only posting this now even though I wanted to yesterday. Anyways, here you go. Hope you enjoy it!

The Isle of the Lost was a place where shadows clung to every cracked cobblestone, and love was a rarity. But you, Ben's younger sister, had always been drawn to the unexpected—the way Chloe's laughter echoed through the narrow alleys, and the way Red's eyes softened when she thought no one was watching.

Your secret relationship with both Chloe and Red was a delicate dance.

Chloe, the daughter of Cinderella, was fierce, but a true softly and she was never afraid to show it. Her blue hair fell in curls, and her eyes held secrets she'd never share.

Red, on the other hand, was all brooding intensity—the daughter of the Queen of Hearts, tuff nature with eyes filled with determination, but with a big golden heart.

One chilly evening, you stumbled upon their dorms. The fire crackled in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Chloe's eyes widened when she saw you, shivering and pale.

"You're burning up," she said, her voice gentle like always. "Red, we need to take care of her."

Red grunted, but there was concern in her eyes. She pulled you closer, wrapping you in a blue and yellow blanket.

Chloe brewed a cup of herbal tea, her fingers deft as she stirred in honey and whispered incantations for healing.

"You're lucky we found you," Chloe said, her fingers brushing against your forehead. "We're not exactly known for our nurturing skills."

Red scoffed, but she stoked the fire, making sure you were warm. She pulled out an old book—a relic from Auradon—and began reading aloud. Her voice was deep, resonant, weaving tales of magic and redemption. You leaned against her, feeling the fever slowly go away.

Chloe sat on the other side, humming a soothing melody. Her touch was tender as she traced patterns on your arm.

"You're going to be okay," she whispered. "We won't let anything happen to you."

And in that moment, surrounded by two unlikely protectors, you believed her. The Isle might be harsh, but love had a way of healing even the deepest wounds. Chloe and Red took turns caring for you—Chloe with her potions and Red with her stories. They stayed by your side, their hearts entwined with yours.

Days blurred into nights, and you drifted in and out of fever dreams. Chloe braided your hair, and Red traced intricate patterns on your hair. They argued about the best way to break the curse that plagued the Isle, their voices rising and falling like a symphony.

When you finally opened your eyes, weak but alive, Chloe pressed a kiss to your forehead. Red grunted, but her hand found yours, rough and steady.

"You're stuck with us," she muttered.

And you realized that maybe, just maybe, the Isle wasn't so dark after all. One of them almost came from it. Love had found you in the unlikeliest of places—in the arms of a villain's daughter and a scarred hero.

As you recovered, you vowed to protect this fragile connection, to let it bloom like a forgotten flower pushing through the cracks.

And so, hidden in their dorms, surrounded by whispers of magic and the warmth of two hearts, you healed.

Chloe and Red became your anchors, and you, their shared secret—the missing piece that completed their fractured souls.

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@xoxo-h3arts @i-am-fork @a-homosexual-homosapien @snixx2088 @cyb3r-st4r @heartsfromcoco @angeliangelo @judgment-days-kid

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> and for the ghosts that haunt me

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 3.6k tw: anxiety, mentions of bullying, panic attacks, blood, use of slut shaming italics are interviews cut between scenes + english a/n: this is a retelling of a story that is extremely close to my heart. school bullying is NOT a joke, and remember that you're beautiful, strong and that no matter what anyone else says - you define who and what you are. if any of the above trigger warnings trigger you - scroll away, stay safe, and come back for the next one 💓

“Cyana!”

Cyana turned to greet her, a mysterious, faceless young girl whose voice sounded all too familiar. 

“Chloe, hey.” She smiled, a wave of fond memories washing over her as she reminisced about what used to be. “I’ve missed you.”

“We saw each other yesterday, silly.” Chloe laughed, the sound sending sudden chills down Cyana’s spine. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cyana asked, noticing the sinister glare behind Chloe’s friendly smile. “Chloe?”

“You really don’t know, huh?” Chloe chortled, eyes dancing with mirth, relishing in the glory Cyana’s confusion and fear gave her. “God, you really are dense. Just like your mother. Bet you won’t go to university, just like her.” 

“Stop that.” Cyana protested, and a sudden sense of deja vu washed over her. This had happened before. “What’s going on, Chloe? Aren’t we friends?” 

“Psh.” Chloe hid a smirk behind her hand. “You’re way too naive to be sixteen, Cyana.” 

Sixteen? She frowned. She was way past sixteen now. Turning twenty one just a couple months ago had hit her like a truck. She didn’t feel her age. In her head she was still sixteen, huddled behind bathroom stalls and hanging her head low in hallways. 

“Cyana?” A familiar voice spoke out of Chloe’s face. “Cyana?”

She blinked. 

“Chan?” 

The familiar face of her self-proclaimed twin and tour roommate hovered over her, blurred and hazy as she blinked up at him. Gentle fingers placed her glasses on the bridge of her nose, and a worried Chan came into clear view. 

“Are you okay, Nana? You were crying out for something.”

She sat up, nearly bumping into him as she looked around, disoriented. “I- just a dream.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chan echoed the words his hyungs used to say years ago. “I used to get nightmares too. Jeonghan always said talking about it would make it easier.” 

She shook her head. 

“Cyana, she-” Dino paused, thinking. “She doesn’t like talking about herself very much. Sometimes I wonder if I really know her at all, and then I shake myself out of it because- she’s my twin. Of course I know her well. There are just some things she’s not ready to share yet.” 

Cyana could feel her hands shaking as she packed for LA. Although she had been mentally counting down the days of tour leading up to it, she hadn’t realized it’d be so soon. 

“Nana-yah?” Joshua knocked against the wall of her hotel room, poking his head in. “Are you all ready? We’re leaving soon.”

She hummed, keeping her head low, scared he’d pinpoint her red eyes and accuse her of crying. “Almost done.” 

Nothing ever got past Joshua.

“Are you alright?”

Cyana really wished people would stop asking her that.

“I’m fine.” 

“Cyana, she-” Joshua let out a breathy laugh. “Her tolerance for things is too high for her own good.” 

Lingering by her door, Joshua’s eyebrows were pulled tight as he watched Cyana continue packing, her hands quivering under the dim lights of the room. A storm cloud was starting to stir within him, something deeply unsettling and worrying hovering just above the horizon - Joshua could sense it. 

“I was never good at weaseling the truth out from others. Or forcing them to tell me. That was Cheol’s job. But he wasn’t there.” Joshua gave the camera a weary shrug. “It was what it was.” 

Wonwoo was the one who found Cyana on the cold tiles of the airport bathroom, ten minutes before their flight to LA. 

Pushing the door open with the brunt of his shoulder, Wonwoo crashed into the single occupant stall, disheveled and frantic as he stared at the girl sprawled across the tiles. 

“Cyana?” He gasped out, catching his breath as he bent down, moving her hair away from her face. “Everyone’s looking for you. What-” Reality hit him like a rock as he realized the severity of the situation. There were dozens, if not hundreds of fans outside, and Cyana was currently lying on the floor, her eyes bloodshot and unfocused. “Where does it hurt?” 

Her blurry eyes looked up to meet him as she took in his features. “Wonu?” 

“Yeah.” His hands hovered shakily over her frame as his mind short-circuited, scared to move her but equally scared to let her stay on the floor. “The floor is unsanitary, Nana.” He mumbled, trying to calm himself as he checked for injuries. “Where does it hurt?”

Her hand moved to her chest. 

“Your-” He paused, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

“I can’t breathe.” 

Ah. Panic attack. Why, Wonwoo had no clue, but at least he was familiar with these.

“Sit up. That’s good.” He braved a smile as he helped Cyana situate herself so she was leaning against the wall. Sitting down in front of her, Wonwoo spread his long legs in an uncomfortable position, but favourable for holding her as close as she needed. “Breathe. Slowly.”

He felt her whole body shake as she inhaled. 

“Breathe again.” He whispered, painfully aware of the time ticking away - a plane waiting to be caught. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

He felt her shake her head, her hair brushing against his chin as she did.

“Please.” 

“I don’t want to go to LA.” 

Wonwoo had suspected so. “Why?” 

Cyana didn’t know what compelled her to tell him everything - but she did, crying on the bathroom floor in some grimy airport, covered in his arms. Wonwoo stayed silent as she spoke, his strong arms holding her together like glue as tears fell from his own eyes, mirroring the ones in hers. 

“Yeah, I knew. I knew everything.” Wonwoo told the camera, revealing the truth after nearly six months. “But once she had collected herself back together again, she told me to keep everything to myself. So that’s what I did.” 

“Cyana, you need to get out of bed.” 

Dino watched from his spot on his own bed, as Joshua gently scolded his roommate. He was confused why an usually active and energetic Cyana had been lounging in bed all day, practically every day since they had landed in LA. 

“Shua hyung’s right, Nana.” Dino quietly voiced his opinion, frowning when Cyana grumbled unhappily. “What’s been going on with you? So grumpy.”

“We’re here for our concert, right? So I don’t have to go outside.” Cyana argued, pulling the blankets tighter around herself. “Please don’t make me go out.”

“We’re here for a week, Nana.” Joshua sighed, exasperated. “You can’t stay here all week.”

Cyana’s lower lip jutted out. “Watch me.” 

Dino watched the whole exchange like a tennis match, his head turning back and forth as he watched them speak, confused by the sudden switch in language. “Nana.” He tried again, thinking maybe she’d be more receptive if it was coming from him. “Please? You said you’d take me sightseeing.” 

Cyana hesitated. She had agreed to Dino’s ask for her to be his tour guide, but that was before - 

“Okay, fine.” She relented, unable to take back her promise. “But only today. And we’re avoiding the popular spots.” 

Dino only got up excitedly, hurriedly getting ready and grabbing his bag. Joshua, on the other hand, frowned at her words. Avoid the popular spots? But why? Even as idols, they could often roam around unfazed, especially in the states, where Seventeen was yet to be a household name. 

“I was already worried then.” Joshua told the interviewer solemnly. “But we had enough bad vibes going around and- I guess I was praying it was all in my head, and that she was actually perfectly fine.” 

“You run away from your past until it all eventually coils up and attacks you all at once.” Cyana let out a defeated laugh. “LA was full of demons- demons I had fled to Korea to avoid. And now- well, tour had brought me right back where I started.” 

Cyana stared out into the vast ocean of fanlights trying to catch her breath. Joshua had told her - moments before running onstage - to just breathe. To ignore everything else around her and to just concentrate on the performance, on them. It was easier said than done because now, looking out into the crowd, all Cyana could think about was the probability of one of those fanlights being someone she knew. 

A small, miniscule possibility - but it terrified her nonetheless. The same kids that had threatened to destroy her could very well be staring up at her from the sea of fans and she felt too vulnerable. 

“Breathe.” 

Wonwoo appeared next to her, waving to the fans in their section but solely concentrated on her. He could hear her harsh breathing through the screams. “Breathe, Nana.” He reminded her gently.

It felt comforting knowing at least one person knew everything she was going through. 

Taking her hand and placing it on his chest, Wonwoo’s eyes fixed on hers, his expression serious but worried. “Breathe - like me. In and out.” 

Cyana did her best to follow the rhythm. “I’m trying.” She gasped out. 

“Good.” Wonwoo smiled, and Cyana basked in the light of it. “You’re okay.” 

“Mhm.” She nodded. She could make it through the concert - concentrated solely on the two of them, the little bubble that Wonwoo’s presence created around her.

Cyana could barely see her own hands as she stumbled offstage, making her way down the stairs the moment the stage screen had closed behind them. Her heartbeat was taking over her senses, drowning out the farewell cheers of the crowd. 

Reaching a hand up to touch her face, she let out a harsh sigh of both relief and disbelief. She was still alive. 

“Nana?” DK’s voice cut through the incessant hum in her ears. “Are you okay?” 

A hand grabbed her shoulder and she flinched away violently. “Don’t touch me.” She yelped out, terrified as she spun around. 

“Okay, I’m sorry!” DK yelped back, equally terrified by her sudden reaction. “You just don’t look so well and I thought- you might need a hand.” 

Her cheeks flushed. “I’m fine.” Cyana couldn’t believe she had just snapped at DK, who looked at her with hurt in his eyes as she stumbled away towards their changing rooms. 

“She looked almost drunk.” DK confided to the interviewer. “Stumbling around backstage, her hands digging into her neck and ripping out her in-ears. She looked sick. It was terrifying.” 

“I’ll go after her.” Joshua called out towards the rest of the group, who were all frozen, unsure of what to do. 

“Wait.” Wonwoo grabbed his arm, stopping him. “She’s not in her right mind right now. Something must have happened during the farewell ment. I’ll talk to her.” 

“Are you sure?” Joshua eyed the younger boy warily. Since when had Wonwoo and Cyana gotten this close? 

Wonwoo nodded, and Joshua could sense he knew something the others did not. 

Running after her, Wonwoo skidded to a stop as he spotted Cyana sitting, half lying down on one of the makeup chairs. 

“Cyana.” He approached her, raising his hands in a sign of surrender. He didn’t know what mindset she was in at the moment. “Nana-yah.” He reached out a hand to steady her, keeping her upright as she threatened to spill on the floor. “Look at me.” 

“I’m sorry.” She panted out, her eyes unfocused. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” The English felt strange against his tongue, but it got some sort of recognition from the girl as she raised her head to meet his eyes. 

“It’s all my fault.” 

“What is? Cyana, what?” 

“Don’t hurt me.” 

Wonwoo froze. “I’d never hurt you, Cyana.” 

“Chloe.” 

“Is that her name? The girl who hurt you back in school? The reason you left?” The questions left him in a flurry as he kept her upright, her entire body weight against his. He could tell she was on the verge of passing out. “Nana. I know you’re struggling, but you need to get it together. Please. Just until we’re back in the car.” 

Her eyes were glassy and her stare seemed to go straight through him. 

“Please.” He pushed up his glasses to wipe his tears away. Her condition scared him. 

“I don’t know how Wonwoo managed to get me back in the car.” Cyana spoke quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t remember much about that night - after the concert. But the others told me I was a mess. A zombie. Living in my skin but not quite there.” 

Cyana watched from her place on the bed as Dino paced back and forth across their shared hotel room. Wonwoo had deposited her there, promising to be back once he had found Joshua, instructing a worried Dino to look after her in his absence. 

It infuriated Cyana that they were all treating her like glass, even though she knew the emotion was unfair. They were doing their best - and she could feel herself shutting down, her safety mechanisms whirring back into place.

Dino’s footsteps seemed to thud inside her head each time he moved. Her heart was racing as she recalled the familiar face she had seen in the crowd during their farewell ment. How she yelled out her name, and that all too familiar threat. I’ll destroy you, Cyana. She had. She will. 

“Could you stop moving?” She suddenly snapped, startling Dino out from his stupor. 

He looked up from his phone and frowned. “What?” Cyana had never used such a tone with him before. 

“Just- you’re being so fucking loud and it’s actually exploding my head and it’s just- too much!” She yelled out, her hands shaking as she balled them up into fists. “Just-” She forced herself to quiet down, although her body still shook with pent up rage. “Sleep somewhere else tonight.” 

“What?” Dino’s irises shook with pooling tears. 

Cyana looked away. 

“I want to be alone tonight.” Her voice grew weaker. “Please.” 

“Oh.” 

She couldn’t bear to look at the hurt that must be across his face right now.

“Okay.”

The door clicked shut behind him. 

Cyana sunk deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets over her as she squeezed her eyes shut, silent tears pooling from the corners. 

She had never felt so horrible. 

“You need to tell me what’s happening.” Joshua ambushed her the next morning, setting a breakfast bun and a cup of milk on her bedside drawer.

“Josh. It’s like seven in the morning.” She mumbled, tugging the sheets closer to her as she rolled away. 

She was tugged back by a stronger but gentle hand. “I don’t care if it’s seven in the morning.You need to tell me what’s going on.” 

Cyana knew he was right. 

“I don’t even know where to begin.” Her shoulders slouched as she sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “There’s too much.” 

“Start at the beginning.” Joshua sat down on the bed and turned to face her. 

“I don’t know what I was expecting, really.” Joshua told the interviewer. “Something about school, or acting, I was sure. But not what really happened. No sane person would’ve expected that. Especially for it to happen to Cyana.” 

Joshua listened as Cyana spoke, her voice strangely calm as she led him through it all - starting brand new in highschool, making friends, feeling included. His expression grew darker and darker as the story progressed, eyebrows furrowing as he imagined little Cyana in the scenarios she was speaking of right now. 

Cyana told him everything. How her close friends- her ride or dies had betrayed her, turning against her all because of rumors a girl had spread to her classmates. How they had bullied her out of school- out of LA entirely. 

“Chloe.” Joshua finally said after she had finished, gently wiping away a lonely tear that had fallen on her cheek. “I heard Wonwoo muttering about that name.” 

Cyana nodded. “She was one of my best friends. You know those people who take your phone and unlock it- and you don’t even bat an eye? Or how you subconsciously hand over your bubble tea for them to try. The first person you call when something good or bad happens to you. She was that for me.”

“And she turned everyone against you?” 

She hummed. It was a strange feeling - to re-explore the past. Cyana had found she never had any trouble when talking about it, because it’d always sound like a story she had made up. She’d forget it had actually happened to her. That is, until the stories become reality once again. “She said she’d destroy me. And she did. I never found out why, why she woke up one day and decided I was no longer a person who could feel anything she threw at me.”

“And being back in LA, like, triggered something?” 

“I guess. I was- it’s silly.” 

Joshua shook his head. “Nothing’s ever silly when it comes to stuff like this.” 

“Well, I- I was scared my classmates would find me at our concert and try to- hurt me. Or hurt one of you.” Cyana looked down at her lap, her cheeks burning. “It’s stupid.” 

“No.” His voice was firm enough to make her look up at him again. “It’s not. Every fear, however irrational you might think it is, stems from something.” 

Cyana nodded. “When did you get so wise, Shua?” 

Joshua’s lips twitched. “I’ve always been wise.” His expression sterned as he remembered his initial question. “You saw someone, didn’t you? At the farewell ment.” 

She let out a cough, choking on her spit. “How did you know?” 

Joshua let out a dry chuckle. “I think everyone could tell something went wrong during the ment.” 

“I saw her. Chloe. Standing front row, waving a Vernon banner.” 

“What did she do?” 

“She yelled my name, so I turned around and-” Cyana hesitated, as if the words refused to leave her mouth. “She said she’d destroy me. Just like she did in high school.” 

Joshua let out a shaky sigh. “You need to tell Coups. Or management.” 

Cyana’s hand shot out to grab Joshua’s leg. “No!” She protested. “I’m sure it’s just in my head or something. We’re leaving LA soon anyways, it’ll-” She tried pasting a smile on her face, as if to reassure both herself and Joshua it’d be okay. “I’ll be fine.” 

Joshua hesitated before agreeing. “Alright. But if anything else happens-”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Cyana finished for him. “I promise.” 

Joshua stood up, gesturing to the breakfast still sitting on her bedside table. “Eat. You’ve been rotting in that bed for two days. And take a shower after. Nasty.” 

She let out a laugh and Joshua brightened visibly at the sound. 

“She’s better now.” He told Mingyu, who was waiting anxiously by her door as he stepped out, closing it behind him. “Opened up. Laughing even.” 

“Thank god.” Mingyu’s shoulders relaxed. 

“You should go shower too.” Joshua made a face as he walked away. “You’ve been rotting by her door ever since she went in. You too, Dino.” He added, spotting the boy who was sitting on the floor in the hallway, eyes unfocused. “Get some sleep, she’s fine.” 

Cyana could hear all this through the walls, as she slid back into bed, her breakfast lying cold beside her. Her stomach churned at the thought of eating, and her heart weighed heavy knowing she had slighted Joshua. 

Sure, she had told him the truth about what was going on- what had happened. But she wasn’t better. She knew they’d worry themselves sick and be rendered useless the rest of tour if she didn’t get her act together - so that’s what she did. She acted. Thank god for her acting background, or she would’ve collapsed into Joshua’s arms sobbing. She nearly did, but she caught herself.

After all, Cyana was glue. Flexible, strong, hard to get rid of. Whatever broke her down, she’d get back together, she was sure of it. 

“Cyana.” 

She found herself back in her school’s gymnasium, surrounded by fellow classmates all dressed up. She knew this night. Spring Fling night - where dating was overlooked for one night in an all Catholic school. 

“Cyana.” 

She turned, and realized who was behind her. 

“Matthew.” She gasped out. He hadn’t aged at all, his hair was still infuriating lopsided, curls never landing straight, his eyes crinkled up in a large smile. “What-”

“I heard you��re so obsessed with me you wrote me over 200 songs.” His loud mouth split into a nightmarish grin. “Slut. You spread your legs open for anyone, huh.”

“What?” Cyana gaped at him. But- she had heard all this before. 

“Cyana! Look over here!” 

She turned, and blinked as a bright camera flash blinded her. 

“I’m framing this so I can jack off to it later.” The boy who held the camera was faceless. “You let Matthew, so why not me?”

“I don’t-” 

“Cyana!”

“Wonwoo?”

She turned around once again, greeted by Wonwoo, dressed in a pale blue suit, his hair pale white. He smiled at her with his hand outstretched. 

“Dance with me?”

She let out a breath of relief, reaching her hand out to take it. All of a sudden, something came flying towards them, causing Wonwoo to slump to the floor, blood dripping from his side, his glasses askew on his face.

“Wonwoo!” 

“You really thought we’d let you get your happy ending?” Someone laughed from the shadows of the party, the disco lights reflected against shadowed figures. “After I said I’d destroy you?”

She glanced back down at Wonwoo, who was on the floor, his eyes wide and frozen. She stifled a scream. 

“Cyana!”

“Cyana! Wake up!” 

a/n: oof. this one's a heavy one. i really wanted to bring this story into cyana's character - and if you can relate to any part of it - hope her journey to healing can help you in yours. fighting !! and remember: kindness is supposed to be a guarantee, not a "if."

[dollfacefantasy]

BIRTHDAY GIRL ♡

pairing: clark kent x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend forgot your birthday :( how ever will he make it up to you...

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral sex (f receiving)

a/n: happy birthday to @fearcvlt!!! one of my sweet friends who i love so so much. i hope you're having a great day bb <3 alsooo just fyi to everyone, there will be no part 2 to this.

From the moment Clark woke up today he’d been busy, busy, busy. 

Given that it was a Saturday, he hadn’t expected the influx of tasks thrown at him. However he’d never been one to complain, so instead of moaning and groaning, he handled each thing as it came. 

In the morning, he had to go into town to pick up a few things for his mom. On the way back, he had to stop by the Talon to discuss some details of a recent wall-of-weird incident with Lana. At some point later on, Lex was then calling him up and asking for his assistance on something.

He felt like he spent more time behind the wheel of his truck that day than on his own two feet with how much he was having to go back and forth across the familiar streets.

Really, every moment of Clark’s schedule over the past week had gone something like this. Packed full from dawn till dusk. He had tests to study for and essays to write. His regular responsibilities on the farm never let up as did his small circle of friends asking to do something or the other. And recently, there’d been a strange string of accidents that he felt compelled to investigate.

Last night specifically, he’d been occupied with Chloe and Pete. What was supposed to be a couple hours of research stretched into a few laps through the woods looking for a variant type of meteor rock and then a car ride to Granville and back. Once he finally got home, he passed out for a couple hours and then scraped himself out of bed to get through all of today.

Now in the evening, he finally had a moment of quiet. He sat by himself on the Torch’s computer, fingers tapping away at the keyboard as he looked into connections between all the components they’d found over the last several days. His eyes flicked across the tiny words glowing on the computer screen. Most of the time Chloe handled the research aspect of their investigations, but he felt so close to having this resolved. With a few more details, he could have this thing cracked in an hour.

The sound of footsteps approaching the door pulled his attention away from the article in front of him. He knew from the quick rhythm of them, they belonged to Chloe. His eyes flitted to the entryway as she appeared. She greeted him without any words, her usual smile and slight wave serving as enough for the two of them as she came in and set her stuff down at her desk.

“You must be really invested in this whole thing if it has you working late all alone,” she teased while shrugging off her coat.

“Something like that,” he responded as his gaze drifted back to the screen, “I’m glad you showed up. I think I really have something on this guy.”

“Oh that’s good,” she said, looking much more interested at the prospect of new information. Coming up behind him at the desk, she skimmed the article over his shoulder. “You know, I thought you’d be with your girlfriend tonight, Clark,” she added as she reached for the mouse to scroll down.

His brows furrowed at the mention of you. While he could talk about you for hours and hours, he didn’t understand the point in her bringing you up now. It felt like a joke going over his head. She’d said it with the normal dose of teasing she used towards him, but the statement as a whole sounded earnest.

“Why would you think that?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I just thought you guys might do something for her birthday. I know she’s not having a party, but I guess I assumed she’d still want to hang out with you,” she answered. The way she said it was so casual. It wasn’t meant to mock or come off as a gotcha. That was what it felt like though because in that moment Clark realized something.

He forgot his girlfriend’s birthday.

Actually, that wasn’t exactly true. He hadn’t completely spaced the event. Last weekend, he’d planned this all out in his head. He called in a reservation at your favorite restaurant, stashed away a few small things to give you, even made a note of where he was gonna buy you a cupcake from. It was just that over the past week, he’d gotten so busy and distracted that those plans faded to the back of his mind. Today, he hadn’t even looked at the date, hadn’t even put together that today was your special day.

But none of the excuses mattered. No matter how he put it, when it actually counted, he forgot your fucking birthday. And maybe he could have played it off like everything was a surprise, that he’d only been pretending to be so oblivious and inconsiderate, if not for the fact that his truck should have been in front of your house an hour ago because he told you he’d pick you up for dinner.

He shot up out of his chair so fast that it fell backwards and smacked against the floor. His hands ran through his hair as he frantically tried to think of what to do. Such a strong wave of panic washed over him that he almost burst into super-sprint right in front of Chloe.

“Clark, you didn’t,” she said, looking back at him. He didn’t even have to say the words for her to surmise the reason for his reaction, “That’s bad, even for you.”

“I know,” he agreed, blue eyes still wide and full of worry, “How could I forget? God, I thought about this. I had all of it figured out. This was the one thing I wasn’t gonna miss.”

“Well the day isn't over yet…” Chloe offered with a slanted look.

He rubbed at his brow for a second before nodding. Of course he was gonna try to make it up to you. His mind just didn’t work as fast as his body. He still had to figure out how on Earth he was going to explain this, let alone justify his absence to you. But he could do that on the way to your house. He really didn’t have any more time to waste.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll have to go try to make the most of how ever many hours are left,” he mumbled.

She nodded in support. “I’ll take over here. You go save the day,” she said.

As soon as Clark was out of her line of sight, he bolted. He zipped into a blur, ditching his truck in the parking lot in favor of his own speed. Later he could come back to drive it home. He didn’t have seconds to spare at red lights or finding parking as he collected the things he needed.

It took him around five minutes to pull everything together. He grabbed the pale blue gift bag from his house, picked up a cupcake from the store (the last one they had), and snatched a bouquet of flowers on his way out.

Every step of the way to you, words of apology ran through his mind, ranging from I’m so so sorry, I’m such an idiot to I swear the truck just broke down, I couldn’t get service, but I’m here now. He tried to think of something that would make this salvageable, but truly, this was his worst screw up with you so far. He’d been late to dates before. He’d forgotten important things. But standing you up on your birthday? That might be the fatal blow to your relationship.

He slid to a stop in front of your porch steps. All the windows in your house were dark. He knew your house would be empty with your parents out of town, but he couldn’t even see the glow of your small tv shining up in your room. Dread bubbled inside him as he realized you could have still gone out without him. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t deserve it, but the possibility didn’t sting any less.

Steeling himself for the possibility of no response, he walked up the wooden steps and across the floor panels to your front door. He took a moment to run his fingers through his windblown hair. With one more deep breath, he shifted the flowers to the crux of his arm and knocked on the door. The gift bag hung off of his other wrist while that hand held the small box with your cake in it.

Five seconds passed and then another several moments of silence too. He resisted the urge to knock again. You could just be taking your time.

But after another bout of quiet went by, he tapped his knuckles against the door again three times. If you didn’t answer this time after another minute, he’d have to regroup, he told himself.

That minute went by the same as the last though, and he still didn’t want to leave. He considered saying something or calling for you through the door; though, at this point in time, he wasn’t sure if his voice would be a strong selling point.

He waited another handful of seconds before raising his fist. Third time’s a charm, right? But before his fingers could make contact, he heard the lock unlatch and the knob twist in that clunky way it always did. Relief fizzled all through his body before he even saw your face.

The door cracked open. From what he could see, the interior of your house was as dark as the windows led him to believe. The nearest streetlight doused the small sliver of space in a faint glow. He could see your leg covered in fuzzy pajama pants and the side of your upper half adorned in an old oversized t-shirt. Your face appeared seconds later. At first, your expression looked neutral. Well you looked sad, but you didn’t look angry, which was what he had been afraid of.

Then your eyes lifted to look at his face, and once they registered the sight of the person before you, that fire lit up in an instant.

Immediately, you tried shutting the door, but he was quick. He stuck his foot forward, jamming his boot in the entryway to stop it from closing. The pressure didn’t really hurt, but he still winced for show.

“Baby, wait,” he pleaded, “I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be. I deserve it-”

“Save it, Clark,” you gritted through your clenched jaw.

You threw your entire body weight against the door in an attempt to shut him out. He could hear your feet scraping against the floor along with your soft grunts as you tried forcing it closed. It would probably be cute if he didn’t feel so guilty.

“Just hear me out,” he tried again, “I’m sorry for being late. I’m really sorry. There’s no excuse that would make it ok, so I won’t even try to give you one. But please, sweetheart. I brought you some stuff, and it’s still your birthday-”

“You’re more than late! Late is fifteen minutes! Late is when thirty minutes pass so you call and explain you’re stuck in traffic! Late doesn’t mean an hour goes by and you finally show up because you realize you don’t have anything better to do, so you might as well!” you cut him off.

You couldn’t have said anything worse to Clark in that moment. He never wanted you thinking this was intentional, that he chose to be anywhere else that wasn’t with you. Now he pushed back a little. He leaned into the door, using his strength to scooch you further into the house and allow himself room to slip inside. As he did, he let some grunts slip out and even took a few seconds to give the illusion that you had a fighting chance.

“I swear this wasn’t on purpose. I’d never choose to make you wait or make you think that I don’t care or something,” he continued. A hint of desperation laced his words now. “I didn’t even forget. I’ve been planning this, and I had it all laid out in my head. I just… I just lost track of time. And it’s my fault, but I can make it up to you if you let me.”

You had turned away from him once he actually made his way into the house. Your body stood stiff as a board. He couldn’t even see your face to get some kind of read on how his words were coming across. And even worse, you weren’t saying anything back. He hesitated, mentally debating whether he should proceed with his pleas or give you a second. But ultimately, the former won. Logic and Clark didn’t mix well when it came to getting in your good graces again. He would do anything to make that happen.

“Honey, I know I missed the first part of the night, but I’m here now. And you’re here, and you look beautiful like you always do. And it’s still your birthday and I have some stuff for you,” he added.

“It’s not about the stuff, Clark. It’s not about what day it is or whatever,”you responded. You turned around to face him again. In the darkness, he couldn’t really make out your features, but your voice cracked. He didn’t need any light to know how your eyes were watering right now. How your lip was wobbling in that timid pout. 

He hated that he was so familiar with your disappointment.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, though this time they came out much weaker, like the sound of a dying soldier.

You took in a shuddery breath, either in preparation to yell at him or to maintain what you had left of composure. Neither happened right away. That almost felt worse, leaving him to burn under the heat of anticipation.

“I just… I don’t understand you. You can be so sweet. So caring. You make me feel like you really love me, but then you do stuff like this,” you finally said. Your voice cracked again, but this time it nearly stopped your words from coming out. You were losing a battle of your own against your tears.

“I do really love you,” he replied without a second thought. He dropped the flowers onto the nearby end table, shoving the gift bag and small box on after it. His arms opened for you as he took a step forward. He only hoped you wouldn’t push him away.

But you didn’t. You took the same step with your own feet and let him embrace you. The warmth of his body engulfed you all at once as his big arms looped around your frame. One of his hands found your head, cradling it against his chest.

“I do love you, baby. Always. I never want you to think I don’t,” he said softly.

You sniffled and squished your face against his chest. He held you tighter against himself. It didn’t feel tight enough. It never did for Clark. He always wanted you closer, held more securely, but he had to hold back if he didn’t want to shatter your bones.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry,” he cooed, planting a few kisses on the top of your head, “Don’t cry, babe. Please. I’m not worth it, alright? I don’t want you so sad over my stupid mistakes.”

While you weren’t saying anything, the weight of your emotions filled the air all around you. They were practically tangible to Clark - the disappointment and betrayal. The insecurity he caused. The pain he inflicted. He was almost glad you usually stayed silent while crying because he didn’t think his Kryptonian DNA would save him from being crushed by your words. At the same time, you didn’t have to speak them for him to understand the potential sentiment. He could tell from the muted nature of your sadness right now. You had gotten your hopes up. You believed that because tonight was special, it would be different. He would show up, and it wouldn’t be like countless other dates and occasions.

He stood there with you in the hall, rubbing your back and rocking back and forth with you a little. After a few minutes, he nudged your head back with the tip of his nose. “Let me see those pretty eyes, baby,” he whispered.

His own vision had adjusted to the dark by now. When you tilted your head upwards, he could see the small spheres all glossy, your lashes wet with the recent tears. He leaned in and kissed the shiny streaks running down your cheeks. The right one first, then the left. His hand cupped your face with all the care in the world.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured as he brushed the tip of his nose against yours.

You gazed back into his bright blue eyes. God, you knew you should make this harder for him. He deserved to work for your forgiveness, but nothing made you weak like Clark. One glimpse of his eyes all wide, looking at you like a scolded puppy, and any anger towards him melted away like ice left out in the summer.

He laid a few more kisses along your face, moving his lips from one feature to the next. “You’re too sweet to be crying like this on your special day,” he said.

His thumbs swiped away remaining tears while your eyes began to dry up. Warmth filled your body again, blooming up in the hollow cold left by your prior loneliness. Looking at his face pushed the sadness away. Maybe today hadn’t been totally ruined.

“I won’t let this happen again, alright?” he told you in a hushed tone despite no one else being in the house. He made sure not to promise though. “I’ll get a calendar or something. I’ll write notes for myself. I’ll write ‘em all over my body like in that movie we watched last summer.”

“The movie that you left halfway through,” you said, your voice gently teasing now.

He exhaled sharply, and a smile spread across his lips. His eyes held a degree of shame still. It felt wrong to laugh about something like that when it was a piece of the issue at hand. But he could tell you were trying to lighten the mood, and he wouldn’t make you feel bad about that.

“I still got the idea,” he defended and ducked in, giving you another long kiss.

His arms pulled you tighter against his body while his hands swept down onto your back. One stayed between your shoulder blades as the other ventured South. His fingers glided over the small of your back, coasting over the top of your ass.

“Let me make it up to you,” he said.

You bit your lip at the sensation of his roaming hands. Allowing him a few more smooches, you finally pulled back to catch your breath for a moment.

“How do you wanna do that?” you asked.

He grinned, those sharp canines peeking out near the corners of his mouth. “I have something in mind, but any way you want is fine, baby,” he murmured.

“You can try your way…” you agreed. You had an idea of what he was picturing, and it wasn’t something you felt the urge to interfere with.

“Try,” he repeated playfully before pulling you into another series of kisses.

The two of you stumbled away from the front door and your gifts left on the end table. His feet followed yours down the hallway in the direction of your bedroom. Your back bumped into the wall a few times before you both slipped through the entrance of your room and found your ways to the bed.

The backs of your thighs hit your soft mattress first. Your smooth skin rubbed against the floral sheets spread over your bed. You let yourself fall back, and Clark’s body went with yours.

You shifted around, scooting up so that your head was on one of the plush pillows near the top of the mattress. He ended up with his frame hovering above your own. Only a few seconds passed before he pressed his lips to your again. Sometimes it felt as though Clark could kiss you all night. He paid so much attention to your lips, put so much dedication into every flick of his tongue and teasing pull with his teeth.

Your hands tried to return the same amount of reverence with their touches. You rubbed them up over his broad shoulders and along the nape of his neck. Your fingertips twisted the ends of his dark hair before sliding between the strands and scratching his scalp.

A groan rumbled up from his chest. You responded with a softer moan of your own. To go with the sound, your legs rose up against his sides and pressed into his hips. You pulled him closer, subtly urged him to tend to you where you wanted him most.

He finally pulled his mouth off you a minute later. His breaths now came out in harsh pants. The warm air fanned over your face while you stared up at your boyfriend. A cute shade of pink filled his cheeks while his pupils dilated with lust for you. His lips shimmered with your saliva under the faint light of the moon beaming through the window.

“My perfect, pretty girl,” he mumbled before dropping his head to your neck.

His attention focused there now. He kissed all over the column of your throat, moving without much strategy. Most of the time, Clark was very eager for you. He explored your body based on pure desire and nothing else. It always ended up feeling good for you though. Seeing his passion was half the pleasure.

While his lips worked above, his hands groped at you below. His large palms massaged your hips and smoothed up and down your sides.  His fingers kneaded your soft flesh. The feel of it alone had him starting to fill out in his jeans.

“You deserve so much, baby. So much more than I give you. Gonna try to make you feel how much you deserve,” he muttered against your skin, lust-fueled thoughts escaping without resistance.

At your waist, his fingers hooked over the hem of your pajama bottoms and gave the fabric a shove. “Lift your hips for me, honey,” he directed.

You did so without a question, allowing him to pull the garment the rest of the way off. It was so frustrating for Clark sometimes. He had the ability to literally tear your clothes to shreds. If he wanted to, those pants could have been gone faster than you could have asked him not to rip them. But for now, he still had to play the game by normal rules.

He moved his way over to your collarbone and placed a few kisses along the neckline of your shirt before migrating South. His hands fell from your hips to your thighs. He gave them the same treatment, squeezing and grabbing. But he wasted no time in parting them.

With one palm on each, he spread you open for himself and settled between your open legs. The sight of your panties greeted him. The dainty cloth covered the precious part of you he was aching to see. He stared at the material for a moment. It wasn’t wet yet, but it was tight against your folds. He could see so much of you without really seeing anything at all.

Leaning in, he kissed your pussy over the fabric. It was chaste. Something less sinful than anything he’d done to your mouth. His thumb came next. He ran the thick digit from the bottom of your slit all the way up to your clit. He kept the pace nice and slow, teasing enough that a shudder came over you as you fought the urge to squirm.

His eyes flitted up to your face. He couldn’t get enough of how cute you were. The desperation was written all over your face.

“I’m not gonna tease, sweetheart. Not on your birthday. Not when I already made you wait too long,” he cooed.

His long index finger hooked around the seat of your panties and gave them a good tug. He worked the small scrap off of you and tossed it to the floor. They landed near the mirror. He only noticed because beside it was a dress, slung over the back of a chair. It was lacy and layered and cute. Probably the one you had on earlier. He could only imagine how sad you looked while taking it off and swapping it out for the more comfortable clothes you had on now.

He had to make this good for you.

Returning his focus to the junction of your thighs, his eyes fixating on your cunt in front of him. Your folds gleamed with the beginnings of arousal. His teasing had been just enough to get the fire started inside of you.

He looked back up at your face and brought his own that much closer. “You don’t know how lucky I feel to call this mine,” he said before kissing your clit.

A broken whine crackled out into the air. The touch was so gentle, so soft. It didn’t really feel like much. But the sight of him, the sound of his voice, his mere existence had your body reacting like a live wire right now.

Clark stuck out his tongue and dragged it up the wet expanse of your pussy. The first couple licks were exploratory, but after a few more, they became greedy. He lapped at your cunt. The tip of his tongue swirled over your entrance and danced across your sensitive bundle of nerves. His eyes fluttered shut at the taste of you.

Meanwhile, more sweet noises poured from your lips. You whined and moan, a few times only managing to choke out a breathy mewl. One of your hands clutched at his hair while the other alternated between clawing at the blankets and covering your face. It flipped back and forth between the two, trying to find the one that would bring some stability.

Nothing you do could fight off the feeling of him though. His lips spread and closed, making out with your pussy. He got louder down there. Wet noises echoed between your thighs. None of them bothered him. He was wrapped up in the task of pleasing you. Nothing else mattered.

Clark didn’t get embarrassed in moments like these. Sometimes while on top of you he could get flustered, but with your pussy like this, he couldn’t string together the thoughts that would cause actual embarrassment. All he could fathom was a craving for more of you.

In these moments, you surrounded him completely. Your thighs wrapped around his head, pressing your skin against him. Your taste flooded his mouth. Your scent filled his nose. All he could hear were your needy cries. It was heaven, absolute paradise.

Grabbing your legs tighter, he held you in place more. You hadn’t started squirming yet, but by the time you felt the urge to, you’d be pinned in place. Somehow he put more effort into this now. He boosted your hips a bit before devouring you.

His mouth worked with desperation you’d never seen from him before. You called out his name before choking out another moan and letting your head fall back. He ground his hips into the mattress below him, chasing whatever physical pleasure he could find to match the bliss he felt inside.

While on top of you, Clark could run his mouth. Endless babbles of praise and cooed praises would fall from his lips. But right now, he was fixated on using his mouth for something more important. He could feel your muscles flexing against his tongue, clenching around nothing. You were getting close.

“That’s it, baby. Feels good?” he asked when he finally pulled himself back for some air. His fingers took over his mouth's duty, rubbing your clit fast and with good pressure.

Your hips bucked as a yelp flew out of you. Despite that, you still nodded as fast as you could. “Mhm. Gonna cum,” you whimpered, as if he needed the warning.

“Go ahead, birthday girl. You can cum whenever you're ready,” he said. He smacked a kiss on your thigh before diving back in and nuzzling into your cunt. His tongue swirled with fervent admiration before lashing over your little bud.

The rapid motion flicks you right over the edge. You gasped before whining. Your hips squirmed while you closed your fingers into a fist around Clark’s hair. You grabbed the soft tresses so tightly you might have pulled a few out. He didn’t complain about any of it though. How could he? It felt like everything in the world was perfect when he had you like this.

He rolled his own hips against the mattress a few more times. You were so caught up in your own release that you didn’t hear the whimpers coming from him. You didn’t catch the vibrations from his moans reverberating against your skin. His own pleasure did nothing but spur him on to keep working you through yours.

As you started to come down, he was still going. His movements were a bit sloppier, but he didn’t have any plans of stopping. It was when you whimpered and pushed at his head that he backed off. 

He looked up at you. Despite the smirk on his face, his voice came out gentle. “No more? You too sensitive?”

You nodded. “If you can stay, we have the whole night,” you offered.

His smirk broke into a full smile, and he crawled up the mattress to peck your lips. “I can stay. It’s still your birthday after all. We got some more celebrating to do.”

“Mhm,” you agreed. You kissed him again, tasting yourself as your lips met. Your hand trailed down his body to the waistline of his jeans. Before you could even ask, his fingers wrapped around your wrist and guided your limb back up.

“I’m fine, baby,” he said with a sheepish smile, “Plus it’s your birthday. It’s supposed to be all about you.”

“Oh my god, you’re really pushing the birthday thing,” you teased.

“I’m gonna keep pushing it until midnight because it’s true,” he said back. His hands cupped your face while he looked down at you.

After the two of you messed around a little more, Clark remembered the things he had left out by the front door. Pushing himself off the bed, he headed for the door. He was quick about getting your things, but he paused on the way back.

Instead of going straight to you, he walked into your kitchen. Rummaging through some of the drawers crammed full of spare parts and random coupons, he found a half-used pack of birthday candles and a lighter.

After opening the box that held your cake, he put it on a plate and jammed a pink-striped candle into the icing of your cupcake. With a click of the lighter, he topped it off with a small flame.

He headed back to your room, walking slowly so as to not have a surprise-ruining mishap on the way. Once he appeared in the doorway, you glanced at him. Your eyes caught on the lit up cupcake, and your whole face brightened. He chuckled and walked further into the room. Seeing that made the beginning of the evening sting less.

“You’re not singing,” you teased as you sat up on your bed and watched.

“That’s because I want you to have a nice birthday,” he replied.

The words brought actual laughter out of you, but you sat there patiently waiting as he walked over with the plate. He sat down beside you and held the plate before you. The whole time he remained careful, conscious of not getting the flame too close to any part of you.

“You gotta make your wish now,” he said and kissed your cheek.

Smiling at him, you thought for a second before turning towards the small flicker of fire. You stared at it for a moment, and then blew a small stream of air. It danced under the breeze before dissolving into thin smoke. He reached over and popped the stick of wax out for you, so you could eat your treat without impediment.

“What’d you wish for?” he asked as he brought the frosting-coated end to his lips.

“You know the rules. If I tell you, it’ll never come true,” you answered and took a bite.

He rolled his eyes, giving you a little poke to the side. “What about last year? That one come true yet or is it still a secret?”

“Still a secret,” you affirmed. You extended the bitten cupcake out to him. “Want some?”

“No, I’m alright. Already had my dessert,” he teased as he got up to throw away the candle. The words earned him a whine and a smack from you along with some grumbling about him being corny. But you had a smile on your face now, and that’s all he could want.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You meet Eddie Munson, the guy who your brother Dustin idolises. It does not go well...

🖤

Why did you have the insanely stupid idea to drive your brother to Hellfire Club tonight? You could have been with Tiffany and Chloe watching Breakfast Club for the millionth time or Nightmare on elm street. Gossiping about cute boys or anything else than this.

Except you had agreed to drive Dustin to his dumb club and he hadn't stopped talking your ear off about d&d and Eddie Munson and whatever else came into his head.

You adored your little brother but the two of you were so different in the things you liked and most people were stunned when they learned that the two of you were even related.

Dustin ploughed on about Eddie and you struggled to keep up. You hadn't met the guy your brother idolised, of course you had heard of him. Everyone in Hawkins had heard of Eddie 'the freak' Munson but the two of you ran in vastly different circles.

Naturally you were a little curious about him, he was the leader and dungeon master of the Hellfire member club, you vaguely knew of what the dungeon master did in d&d, Dustin had tried to teach you about the game a few times and certain things had stuck in your head.

"Please be nice to Eddie. He's so cool and I don't want you embarrassing me in front of him" Dustin begs and you're slightly offended by this, you were always polite to Dustin's friends, even when the little nerds got on your nerves.

"I'm always nice" Dustin snorts at this and you glare at him. Butthead.

"I think you'll like Eddie, the rest of his friends are cool too. Besides it will get you out of the house and stop you moping about Jacob" you wrinkle your nose at the mention of your ex.

Jacob was ancient history as far as you were concerned... He really was a self centered asshole and you're glad you didn't take months to figure that out. You were still upset that he turned out to be such a douchebag.

You pull up at Hawkins High and Dustin rushes to get to the drama club. Okay, so the two of you were a little late... Like over ten minutes because Chloe called you and was having a crisis about what to wear for her date with Taylor but that couldn't be helped?

"Eddie likes people to be on time, I can't believe you made me late" Dustin huffs and you follow him inside, trying to tune out his attitude.

"Henderson, care to explain why you're late?" A voice snaps from where the rest of the team are seated. This must be Eddie, he's on a chair that resembles a throne and is clearly the person in charge.

Your eyes flicker over his ring clad hands, the leather jacket and curly brown hair. Big brown eyes narrow at your brother who's pink cheeked and stammering.

"Uh, shit...uh sorry Eddie" Dustin throws you a contemptuous look but you're too busy looking at Eddie.

He really was very attractive. Unfortunately he opens his mouth again and that thought vanishes like a puff of smoke.

"Spit it out Dustin. We don't have all night and I'm already behind which I'm pissed about, you little butthead"

Butthead? Hey, who was he to insult your brother. Only you got that honour.

"Excuse me, exactly who do you think you're talking to?" Eddie's gaze meets yours and they widen for a second. Then he smirks. He even has dimples which makes him even hotter.

Asshole.

"This is between me and Dustin. What's it to you?". He asks and it's so cocky that you march right up to him and Dustin groans.

"I told you not to embarrass me" he whines and you ignore him and focus on Eddie who's watching you with an amused look on his face.

"That butthead is my brother and I'm the only one who can speak to him like that" you snap and Eddie's grin widens.

"I didn't realise Henderson had a sister and that still doesn't explain why he's late" you ignore the way your stomach clenches when Eddie appraises you.

"That's my fault so yell at me. My friend had a few problems" Dustin rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, like finding an outfit for her date was a crisis" you shoot him with an icy glare and he quietens. Eddie's eyes crinkle when he smiles and he puts his hand on his heart in mock horror.

"Oh no, not the dreaded date outfit conundrum" you grow a little flustered and you scowl. Seriously this was the guy that Dustin adored? Steve, now you could get why Dustin worshipped Steve but seriously, this guy?

"He's great isn't he?" Dustin grins at you and you gape, were you the only one here who thought Eddie was a cocky asshole? A very hot one but still an asshole.

"Oh he's perfect...a perfect pain in the ass" you reply sarcastically but mutter the last part under your breath. Eddie still hears it and laughs as he settles back on his throne.

"You sure she's your sister Dustin? Seems she needs to remove the stick from her..." The guys laugh hesitantly and you level one last vicious glare at Eddie before you storm out.

"I'll pick you up at nine thirty Dustin" you call back to him and Eddie's voice follows you out.

"I miss you already princess"

Ugh. Asshole.

I might make this a series, we shall see 💞

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I just realized that, in the 5 seasons finales, LB&CN NEVER won :(

-S1: Origins, the start of everything so it doesn’t exactly count. Volpina is the last chapter before those, but now that Lila seems to be the new HM, and since it was LB’s “mistake” that made her a nemesis, their victory comes empty in the long run.

-S2: Heroes’ Day, I consider it a tie, because the status quo changed to HM’s favor. After all seemed lost, LB&CN got a second wind and they managed to corner him, pointing to their victory; there was no way to foresee Mayura’s arrival. HM didn’t win, but is no longer alone against them. From a narrative pov, in my humble opinion, it is a nice season finale to set up S3.

-S3: Battle of the Miraculous, LB makes a mistake born of jealousy, leading to the capture of Master Fu, HM claiming the Miracle Box and Chloe’s betrayal. Aftermath: Fu’s gone, temp heroes’ identities revealed to HW and Mayura, the translation of the grimoire is in enemy hands, allowing him to repair the broken Peacock miraculous, and Chloe starts hating LB. The heroes recovering the miracle box at the end is just a small win contrasted to everything else.

-S4: Shadow Moth’s Final Attack, the Miracle Box is in HM’s hands after LB makes another love-related mistake by being deceived by Felix into thinking he was Adrien; behold the rise of Monarch. Our heroes have their worst defeat so far.

-S5: The Final Day *insert TLOZ: Majora Mask’ Last Day theme*. Gabriel, the person who antagonized our heroes these five seasons, the one who was supposed to be defeated, brought to justice, manages to outsmart Bug Noire because she had faith in the man, and makes the wish. (Though I heard that Mari won because Gabriel didn't wish for Emilie at the end, so... it is supposed to be the heroes' victory, I guess?)

I'm pretty sure this came up somewhere in the comments or reblogs of my post about Marinette being written like a villain, but in the context of the finals, Gabriel is written like a classic superhero. The only exception being Origins which isn't really a final so I don't think it counts. Instead we'll do Volpina into Collector.

Season One: The heroes almost out Gabriel's identity, but he makes a last minute brilliant plan to save himself and beat his enemies, forever putting himself off their radar.

Season Two: Gabriel almost loses, but an unexpected ally swoops in to save him at the last second. She then becomes his new teammate for the rest of the show.

Season Three: Gabriel almost wins, but fails at the last moment due to a deus ex machina. Still, he ends the season with new knowledge that will make him stronger than ever as he faces his enemy in the coming fights.

Season Four: Gabriel once again loses the battle, leaving him in his darkest hour, only for another unexpected ally to swoop in and give him a major powerup, allowing him to go into the final season ready to put it all on the line.

Season Five: Gabriel once again loses the battle, but when all hope seems lost, his enemy's hubristic monologuing gives him the win, allowing him to achieve the victory he's been fighting for all along. He even gets to change his mind on what victory means for him, showing more growth than anyone else in this mess of a show. (For this, we're going to ignore the insane and deeply insensitive idea that being unable to live without your spouse is a happy ending and meaningful lesson about grief.)

To be fair, it's not totally unheard of for heroes to fail at the start or in the midgame, but I'm struggling to think of another show that did it this poorly. Usually, the heroes lose as a way to set up the plot for the next season or arc. During this follow-up plot, the heroes usually earn a new power or skill so they can come back and win. Miraculous doesn't do that. Things like Gabriel's season four win lead to nothing for the heroes even though a lot of us were expecting season five to see something like the heroes recovering a different miraculous every episode as Ladynoir came back stronger than ever now that the season four nonsense was done with.

But season five wasn't about getting the Kwamis back or about Ladynoir being stronger than ever. It was about Adrienette getting together and Gabriel being against that even though he was seemingly fine with it in both what-if episodes begging the question of what changed?

Season four wasn't about cool new guardian powers or rebuilding the team from scratch. All of the status quos were maintained. The only big difference was that Gabriel got the ability to use the peacock without dying even though it would have been infinitely more satisfying if season five had him dying from a broken miraculous instead of a cataclysm. Same plot, just without the complication of Adrien technically killing his father.

Season three wasn't about figuring out how to stop new villain Maurya. She only goes away because she gets too sick to fight. The heroes don't do anything to stop her. They just got lucky.

When you look at the various power ups that the show introduces - the potions, unification, new miraculous, etc. - there is no overarching narrative logic for why those power ups are being introduced. That's why they're often only used for something interesting in their intro episode. After that, they're just kind of there. I don't think they ever come back to save the day in a season final like you'd expect. The only one who gets lasting power ups that effect the whole season is the villain.

Heroes can also have less-than-perfect victories in satisfying stories. A lot of my personal favorites are a little bittersweet. But none of Miraculous' losses fit that bill either. The closest we get is the season five ending because the heroes did get the miraculous back, but it's hard to call that a victory. I'm not even sure why they need them back. Unless the story randomly decides that Ladynoir isn't enough for today's fight, the temp heroes aren't needed. That's why Ladynoir was perfectly fine for all of season five even though they were fighting a villain with every other power! It's actually really funny when you think about it. Heroes like Viperion should be at every fight because their powers feel essential. Yet Viperion only shows up a handful of times. Times when Ladynoir is suddenly struggling to win even though they've faced plenty of one-hit K.O. villains before. The show's internal logic is a mess.

Then again, this is also the show that consistently lets the villain's love empower him while the heroes' love leads to the end of the world, so I guess this is just kind of par for the course.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Ladybug and Cat Noir: The Movie

Once again, I'd just like to apologize for the lack of activity the past few months. The holidays have kept me busy, especially at work, and I've officially decided to go back to school next month. Don't get me wrong, one of my new year's resolutions is to at least try getting back to consistently working on this blog, which is one of the reasons why I'm going to tackle She-Ra in the future. Either way, I'd like to thank you for supporting me this past year even though I haven't been as active as I should be.

When I heard Miraculous Ladybug was getting a movie, I didn't really pay too much attention to the news due to all of the side projects that have been canceled left and right, but then I saw the trailer. It looked decent, and while I had issues with the animation, I was willing to give it a shot since Astruc wasn't on the writing team. Then the movie came out, and while it got mixed reviews, this was how a lot of people in the fandom saw it after suffering through Season 5.

Yeah, a lot of fans hold this movie in high regard. It's nothing as groundbreaking as other animated films that came out the same year like Across the Spider-Verse and Nimona, but for a Miraculous Ladybug project, it turned out pretty well. That is, except for the brief schism it caused in the fandom. While it's mostly subsided, when the movie came out, there was a debate on which handled the story better, the movie or the show. As always, fandom arguments tend to get complicated, and things only got worse when Thomas Astruc himself decided to throw his hat in the ring by claiming that the show he worked on was better.

Yes, even though fans enjoy a movie based on his characters, because he isn't the one who made it, Astruc thinks his version is better. Just remember, he tweeted this about a month after “Derision” premiered. I feel like that speaks for itself.

Thankfully, the argument has died down for the most part, though there's still discussions on which is the better version. Before I really get into the movie, I just want to remind everyone reading this that my opinion shouldn't be taken as fact. I am not the authority on what people should like, and I don't want anyone to use my review as an excuse to bully other people online for having a different opinion on the movie. While I've made jokes about the show's decline in quality, the show and movie both have their own strengths and weaknesses, and we should be able to discuss them.

With all that out of the way, let's get into Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie

Just to be clear, I'm not going to tackle this like my usual reviews. Instead, I'm going to break this review into three sections: what I liked, what I didn't like, and what I'm mixed on.

Things I liked

For one thing, the characterization is pulled off very well. None of the characters are really as annoying or incompetent like they were in the show's later seasons. Part of what I think makes it work is that there's more focus on character arcs that have to be completed by the end of the film. Marinette has to learn to step up as a hero, Adrien has to learn humility while dealing with the loss of his mother, and Gabriel struggles to resist the allure of villainy.

Marinette's anxiety is more pronounced in this movie, especially since in this continuity, Chloe is just starting to harass her, so she's not used to this kind of treatment. While Chloe is a minor antagonist in the civilian plotline, the biggest threat to Marinette when she's not Ladybug is her own self-doubt. Her status as an outcast is used to add to Marinette's lack of confidence in herself. The whole reason she even meets Adrien here is because she tried to hide from Chloe in the library, and she was too nervous to really speak up to Adrien. Hell, the first time she transforms into Ladybug, it's only because Tikki forced her to transform.

I like how Marinette's insecurities transition into her origin as Ladybug, where she's put in a situation where she has to take charge and be more confident. She still gets frustrated with her situation and her new partner's ego (more on that in a minute), but she struggles to really get her head in the game at first compared to how things were in “Origins”. It makes her development into the confident hero we're all familiar with feel more natural, as the climax of the movie shows her fully asserting herself as the protector of Paris and a beacon of hope for those to look up to.

Adrien is also handled very well here. As much as I liked “Origins”, I have to admit it didn't really do much with him as a character. With the exception of wasting his first Cataclysm, he just goes about the two-parter like it's another day at the office for him. That's why I'm a huge fan of the movie actually giving him stuff to do. Unlike the show, his arrogance is shown in a more negative light and is shown to be a major character flaw he needs to overcome. Nobody tries to excuse or deny his actions, and he learns how to become a better person.

This is what makes his dynamic with Ladybug so interesting. For their first battle together, he's overconfident and assumes that he's the leader, even though he's just as new at this as Ladybug is. The two trade insults and bicker while fighting their Akuma and even when they meet Master Fu afterwards. While Cat Noir does fall for Ladybug, Marinette still isn't open to it, not because she loves someone else, but more because she finds him to be unbelievably annoying. She doesn't really hate him the same way she does Chloe. It's more like that one coworker you can't stand but have to tolerate regardless.

Both Ladybug and Cat Noir help the other improve as they gain each other's respect. Ladybug gains more confidence in order to keep Cat Noir from bossing her around, while Cat Noir becomes more humble to become a better hero. Eventually, Cat Noir reverses his position and assumes he's the sidekick, only for Ladybug to deny that claim and declare that the two are partners. This statement also reflects how both of them are responsible for saving the day in the end. While Adrien ultimately reaches through to his father, Ladybug saves Adrien and repairs the damage caused by Hawkmoth. Both played a role that was instrumental in the climax, and neither one feels ignored by the narrative.

Another character who really got a much needed revamp is Chloe. Yes, she's still Marinette's primary bully, but it's more downplayed than in later seasons. She stays a challenge exclusive to Marinette's civilian life instead of trying to be a challenge to Ladybug. The closest thing she does to opposing the heroes is kick Cat Noir off a runaway Ferris wheel out of fear, and even then, she gets her comeuppance through Ladybug throwing her in a dumpster while saving her. Chloe is also much smarter than in canon, being able to read the room to mask her emotions and maintain her image or to prey on someone's insecurities if they get in her way. Don't get me wrong, she's still a source of comic relief, but the movie treats her slightly more seriously than canon does.

Speaking of comic relief, here's something that I think made this Chloe better than the one seen in the show: The jokes were actually funny. Yeah, it's not laugh out loud, but I like how rather than make jokes about how immature and stupid Chloe is, her jokes are focused more on her own ego and self-image. Well, that, and wanting to kick Marinette's ass. I'm not making this up. Chloe in this movie threatens Marinette several times, and it's honestly amazing.

She unironically put the fear of God in Marinette's eyes in her first scene alone.

I also like how they handle her role as a love rival to Marinette. Unlike the show, Chloe and Adrien never interact, and it's implied that this continuity won't use the childhood friends element introduced in Season 2. It's a good way to show the difference between her and Marinette, how for all her boasting, Chloe doesn't know Adrien the way Marinette gets to know him.

Gabriel is easily the best part of the movie. This version is more fleshed out compared to the show. Rather than flip-flop between sympathetic and pure evil, the movie leans more on the sympathetic side for Gabriel's character. His very first scene shows the grief he's going through while thinking about Emilie, and Keith Silverstein gets to show off more emotions than just over the top sociopathy. You understand why he chooses to become a supervillain, but you want to see him get better, making for a very somber character. I especially love the delivery of the line where he finally gives in and transforms for the first time.

Gabriel: If chaos is the way, I will burn the world and lose myself in the flames to do so!

That line has no right to go as hard as it does.

We see him descend more into villainy as his appearance becomes more disheveled. Despite claiming to care for his son, the Gabriel and Adrien don't interact until the 70-minute mark. By the time the two do talk, Gabriel looks like a mess compared to how he looked at the beginning.

I really like this writing decision, as it highlights the distant relationship between the two, and how being Hawkmoth has only made things worse for Gabriel. Seeing Gabriel finally realize how unhealthy his coping mechanisms have been when he learns Adrien is Cat Noir is a satisfying scene, as it feels like a natural way to put an end to his arc. Compared to canon where he wins and never really feels bad for what he did, this version of Gabriel is far more remorseful at the sight of his son battered and bruised and breaks down sobbing. Remember, this was the version Astruc said we “wanted” and not the one we “needed”.

As for the Miraculous, things were changed to better fit the story, and I like most of what they did. I like how there's more focus on the teamwork between Ladybug and Cat Noir. Their Miraculous don't just grant a wish when used together. They literally become stronger when the two work together, and it makes a lot of sense. I like how the teamwork aspect is rewarded in-universe, because it shows how the heroes can do more than create and destroy stuff. I also think the addition of a call function on their Miraculous makes perfect sense, and clears up a ton of potential communication errors.

The fight scenes are also pretty creative. There's a lot of focus on using the environment to fight the Akumas. The very first fight has Ladybug and Cat Noir defeat the Akuma by letting a train hit it, and the second major fight involves a Ferris wheel going out of control. This leads to more varied action and well choreographed fight scenes. I especially like how with the exception of the Mime (and a brief reference to the Bubbler and Guitar Villain), all of the Akumas are brand-new, so older fans don't know what to expect with these guys.

This level of action also extends to the climax. Hawkmoth uses an Akuma on himself, sending out a massive flock of butterflies. You'd think it'd be like this movie's take on “Heroes' Day”, right? Nope! Instead, the Akumas become tiny attack drones that swarm over Paris like the eight plague of Egypt. I don't know how the animators managed to make an army of purple butterflies menacing, but by God, they did it.

Speaking of animators, my thoughts on the animation have changed drastically. While I still have minor gripes with the character design, I still love how the city of Paris is brought to life, making it seem more populated than in the show. I never really held the limited amount of civilians against the animators in the show, but I'm so happy we can see this show's environment on a cinematic budget. The animation is another reason why I think the action works so well in this movie.

Things I didn't like

When it comes to the changes to the Miraculous, one thing I'm not a fan of is Ladybug not getting her Lucky Charm. It misses the point of her having the power of creation. Yeah, she still has the spotted vision thing she had in the show, but it takes away what made the way she defeats Akumas interesting. She doesn't just beat them into submission. Sometimes, she outsmarts them or reasons with them, and part of the fun with the Lucky Charm is seeing just how she'll use something like a coat hanger or an old football trophy to defeat them.

I also don't like this movie's take on the Butterfly Miraculous. The very first scene has Master Fu build it up as an evil artifact capable of turning people into monsters. Remember, “Origins” established the Butterfly as something capable of creating superheroes, a power Gabriel twisted to create villains instead. Hell, I hate this rule, but the Paris Special made it clear that Miraculous can be used for good or evil, and it all depends on how the power is used. In other words, Miraculous don't kill people, people kill people. Bottom line, I prefer the idea of the Butterfly being the same as the other Miraculous, with the user and intent making it evil.

The one character who I felt the movie absolutely misrepresented was Plagg. This version of the character has none of the heart he had in the show. Yes, Plagg was crass there too, but he had just as many scenes showing how he cared for Adrien like a little brother or a nephew. He was Adrien's primary confidant and wanted to help him however he could. Even bad Plagg-centric episodes like “Kuro Neko” or “The Kwamis' Choice” made it clear he wants what's best for Adrien and is capable of coming up with plans if they'll help him.

Here, Plagg is mostly just there to make snide comments and fart a lot. Say what you will about the show, but at least it didn't make Plagg farting into a running gag. Plagg only gets a handful of lines in the entire movie, to the point where even Tom has more lines than he does. Tikki gets plenty of scenes with Marinette and an entire song, while Plagg feels like an afterthought.

Things I'm mixed on

This might be a little controversial, but I have mixed feelings on the portrayal of the Love Square as a whole in this movie. Don't get me wrong, the Ladynoir scenes are great, but there's not as many Adrienette, Ladrien, or Marichat scenes. In fact, I don't think there were any Ladrien or Marichat scenes in this movie, which is weird. I can at least excuse those, but it's weird how little Adrienette scenes there are. Not counting the masks, they only have four major scenes together before the end, and one of those is a deleted scene that had the dialogue cut over a montage.

While I'm glad the entire movie wasn't about the Love Square drama, the romance between Marinette and Adrien specifically feels a little rushed. I think it would have benefited the movie to have ten or fifteen more minutes to flesh out this subplot a little instead of only focusing on Ladynoir.

I'm also unsure what to say about the songs. Most of them are pretty catchy and have great visuals, but the dissonance between the singing voices of Marinette and Adrien throws me off. I don't get why neither actor for the French or English dub was asked to sing. For some reason, Tikki and Gabriel's voice actors got to sing, but not Marinette and Adrien. At the very least, Drew Ryan Scott's singing voice sort of sounds like Adrien, but Lou's singing voice makes Marinette sound twice her age. Don't get me wrong, I still liked the songs, but this choice was very jarring to me.

And now, because literally nobody asked for it, here's every song in the movie ranked.

8. If I Believed in Me

A very dull “I want” song that's just Marinette wandering around Paris on the way to school. Compared to “Little Town” from Beauty and the Beast, where you can easily follow Belle and understand how she goes about her day, it's not clear what kind of route Marinette is taking. Even the lyrics are pretty bland, just talking about wanting to follow her dreams and be more confident. The issue is that her dreams of being a fashion designer barely factor into the plot, and she only becomes more confident thanks to being a superhero, something she didn't dream of. The only real dud in the soundtrack.

7. Opening Remix

Not much to say here. It's a remix of the opening theme with the new singers. It sounds nice.

6. Reaching Out

This is a much better song than “If I Believed in Me”. It does a great job expressing Marinette's doubt and how she feels pressured to be somebody she's not. Great way to follow up on her heart getting broken by Adrien.

5. My Lady

This one's a quickie, but it's still fun. I love the visuals in this one and how it gradually crescendos, reflecting the new feelings Cat Noir has for Ladybug developing.

4. Stronger Together

Surprisingly, Ladybug and Cat Noir's only duet in the movie, but it's still really good. I love the use of the set in the theater Cat Noir took Ladybug to at the beginning before they run around Paris. The lyrics do a great job showing how far the two's relationship has come, making it clear how close they are, only for reality to metaphorically kick them out of the sky.

3. You Are Ladybug

Another duet, this time between Marinette and Tikki. While I still think Cristina Vee should have gotten to sing this one song given her chemistry with Mela Lee, Lou still does a great job expressing her anxiety. The back and forth between Tikki and Marinette makes this a blast to watch, especially with it using the same music as the theme song. Even the rap part with Tikki was fun to watch. I especially love the part where Tikki excitedly tells Marinette about how dangerous the job is and how close she'll come to getting killed.

2. Chaos Will Reign Today

The villain song in this movie had no right to be as good as it is. The visuals are eerie and fit the more menacing tone of the song. Keith Silverstein gives his all to make up for his crime of singing the Hawkmoth Rap. It's also a hell of a lot better than the villain song Disney had to offer that year.

1. Courage in Me

Easily my favorite song in the movie. The visuals of Marinette struggling to hop across these black spots symbolizing her yo-yo before her transformation into Ladybug is awe-inspiring. The lyrics are a great way to solidify Marinette embracing her role as Ladybug, and it's such a triumphant song to listen to.

Other things I noticed

During the first Akuma fight, Ladybug and Cat Noir pass by some guys with stereotypical French accents while almost every other character speaks like they're in America.

Careless Whisper plays one time in Cat Noir's mind as he develops feelings for Ladybug. The fact that he listens to it after getting his heart broken has to be one of the most subtle jokes I've ever seen in this franchise. Of course, it's clear what the best superhero cover of Careless Whisper really is.

Cat Noir says he has the power of destruction in his introduction while being impressed when Master Fu says the same thing.

There's a Volkswagon tie-in that actually features the two heroes promoting some cars in-universe. This is a real shot from the movie.

I think Chloe ships Alyanette, judging from this exchange:

Marinette: Seriously, Alya, you think Adrien would say yes?

Alya: Of course! I'm gonna ask Nino.

Chloe: I think you should go together, 'cause Adrien is coming with me, not with some baker girl.

I don't think Ladybug ever learned Cat Noir could play the piano, so seeing Cat Noir try to woo her with a little piano number is a nice inclusion.

When Cat Noir's mask is destroyed in the final battle, his exposed eye is still green. Was this where the chibi shorts got the idea from?

Other people have pointed this out, but the picture of Adrien as a kid is traced from a character from The Boss Baby. That's an automatic ten point deduction for making me remember that movie exists.

The post-credits scene with Nathalie was weird.

Did Master Fu not know he lost the Peacock Miraculous too?

Why isn't Emilie in any form of suspended animation?

Is the Peacock still damaged?

Did the Peacock still kill her/send her into a coma?

Was Adrien still created by the Peacock?

Why didn't Gabriel use the Peacock or at least consider it?

Did Gabriel forget to tell anyone about the other Miraculous he has after turning himself in?

Why did Gabriel choose to tell Nathalie when she didn't seem to help him while he was still Hawkmoth?

Final Thoughts

Overall, this was a really good movie, and a fresh take on the show's universe. I had issues with it, but I still think this movie series has promise. The animation was great, the songs were catchy, and the characterization was on point for the most part. It even manages to be a better musical than the ones big names like Disney and Warner Bros have made in the past two years. It's one of the best things to come out of the franchise, no question. I wouldn't mind future installments set in this continuity over whatever Season 6 churns out.

[kayhi808]

First Crush ask.

Feel free to to ignore but this just came into my head and I needed to get it out before I forgot.

We’ve seen how protective our Miss Abby is of Mama and of Papa Bucky, but how would she handle Uncle Steve having a date?

Maybe she’d be scared he would like this new person more and wouldn’t come home. Mama and Bucky would have to try and convince her that’s not going to happen but she’s still unsure so she insists they stay over and she tries to stay awake until he comes home just to make sure.

Then maybe a couple of weeks go by and she finds them hanging out in the living room so she climbs into Uncle Steve’s lap and asks “Is she’s your giwlfwens?”

And lastly, when they do become bf and gf, she says to her Mama something about having more family now cause she has Aunty as well 😩😩

@jvanilly and I were just brainstorming about fixing Steve up with someone. Abby is protective over Uncle Steve but it's different. She doesn't wike some of his dates, but most times she isn't too bothered. She's secure in the spot she holds in his heart. He made them families. He can't take it back. Families are forever Hope you enjoy this.

Autumn is turning the leaves to bright orange, red & yellow on the walk to daycare. Mama is on a business trip with Director Fury for the next 2 days, so Bucky was on Abby duty until he got called away on a mission. Steve said he'd stay with Abby & it wasn't a problem. How hard could it be?

Steve has a grip on her hand as they make their way down the sidewalk, slowing his steps to match hers. "And you knows what?"

For the 15th time this morning, "No, what?"

"Maui, tinks he's so funny, but he's not. I needs to tell Chloe & Mia we can't wikes him. Pu'a is NOT boat snack."

"But what if they run out of food? Maybe they HAVE TO make Pu'a a snack."

Abby dramatically gasps & tugs her hand out of Steve's & stops in the middle of the sidewalk. "Uncle Steve!!" She glares at him & he laughs. "You not funny either. Dey's on a boat! The ocean is sooooooo bigs. They can eat fish!" Steve laughs harder which infuriates Abby. She turns on her heel & stomps her way towards daycare. Steve tries to grab for her hand but she jerks her hand away & keeps it out of his reach, so he ends up just following close behind her.

They get to her classroom & Abby is still in a bad mood. Ms. Grace greets the kids & parents at the door. "Good morning, Abby." She looks up, not expecting to see Steve. "Oh..uh good morning, Mr....Captain Rogers." Her cheeks flush pink as she kneels down to help Abby off with her jacket. She notices the scowl on her face. "Are we feeling ok, Abby?"

"I's mad." She shucks off her jacket, "Tank you, Ms Grace."

Abby goes off to sit with Chloe & Mia, "Hey, where's my goodbye?" Abby gives Steve a scowl & shakes her fist at him which makes him laugh. "I'm sorry. I kind of riled her up this morning."

Grace hides her smile, "I can see that. Where is her mother today?"

"Y/N is on a business trip & Bucky is on a mission. So that leaves Uncle Steve." He looks over at Abby & he sees all 3 little girls giving him the evil eye.

"Wow! You really messed up. She tattled on you." Steve grimaces. "I'll try to smooth things over before you pick her up this afternoon. "

Steve smiles down at the cute teacher, "I"d appreciate it."

******

"Abby, honey, can you put your toys away? Uncle Steve is here for pick up." Grace gets Abby's backpack from the hook along with her jacket.

"Hi's Uncle Steve." Ms. Grace helps Abby on with her jacket, when Steve pulls Pu'a out from his jacket with a sign around it's neck.

"Here, I made Pu'a a sign for you."

Abby takes her stuffie and shows Ms Grace. "What it says, pwease?"

Grace breaks into a smile for Steve, "It says, 'Not boat snack. DO NOT EAT'." Abby gasps & hugs the pig to her chest. Standing, & whispering, "Good job, Captain."

"Tank you, Uncle Steve! I loves it so much!" Abby raises her arms up for him to pick her up. Once settled in his arms, she gives him a peck on his cheek.

"I apologize for this morning. I was not funny."

"No, you wasn't." Squeezing his face between her palms, "But I forgives you, cos you so cutes. Isn't hims cute Ms. Grace?"

Bright blue eyes filled with humor meet hers, "He's got potential." That earned her a cocked eyebrow from the super soldier.

"You no tinks him cutes?" Ms. Grace lifts her shoulder in a delicate shrug. "Wook! He's so handsomes."

"Abs, stop." Trying to angle his face away from Abby.

Abby reaches over to squeeze his bicep, "Show her your muscles. Hims so strongs," giving his arm another squeeze. "I helps him make dis at the gym."

"Wow, did you?" Grace tries to hide a smile.

"Uh-huh! Show Ms. Grace your tummy! Even his tummy gots so much muscles.

Taking Abby's backpack from Ms. Grace, "Ok Abs, that's enough." Grace laughs at how uncomfortable he is. "Say goodbye to Ms Grace. We'll see her in the morning."

"No, waits. Hims runs super fast, like a car! He has fancy bicycle like my Papa. It goes brrrmm brrmm! He's also smart in the brains. He can reads you storybooks." Steve hurries out of the classroom.

"Abigail! Why did you do that?"

"What? Ms. Graces is so nice & pretty. I loves her. You haves to ask her on a dates!"

Steve looks back at the daycare center & sees Grace watching them from the window & that brings a smile to his face.

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood

[lvnleah]

Euros Glory | Leah Williamson

Summary: You and your daughter watch on from the stands as your wife, Leah, wins the euros.

based on this request!

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Nerves bubbled up inside you as you tried to get ready for the Euros final. Your wife, Leah, and her teammates had worked so hard to get to this moment and were so close to claiming the title and bringing it home.

You and your four-year-old daughter, Lily, hadn’t seen Leah in over a week. Leah’s other family hadn’t seen her for around eight but you and Lily were allowed to see her once a week. Leah had fought for the special arrangements as eight weeks was too long for Lily.

You started your day at the hotel, the room abuzz with nervous energy. Lily could barely contain her excitement, she bounced on the bed as you tried to wrestle her into her miniature England kit. She was already waving the small England flag you’d brought along.

“Hold still for just a minute, Lily,” you laughed, attempting to comb her hair into something resembling neatness.

“But Mummy, I want to see Mumma! When can we go?” she asked, her voice a bundle of excitement.

“Soon, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes,” you assured her, smoothing down her hair.

“Look, Mummy! Match Mumma!” she squealed, turning round and showing you the back of her shirt

“Yes, and Mumma will be so happy to see you wearing it,” you said, your heart swelling with affection as you helped her slip into the shirt.

By mid-morning, you joined Leah’s family for a quick breakfast. Leah’s parents were just as nervous and excited as you are, their pride evident in their every word. You exchanged smiles and reassurances, a silent agreement that today was going to be special.

At the stadium, the atmosphere was electric. The buzz of thousands of fans, the sea of England flags, and the energy are all a testament to how monumental this match was. You took your seats, and you could barely contain your nerves as you tried to keep Lily occupied.

Before the game, you managed a brief visit to the players' area. Leah, already in her kit and with a focused expression, breaks into a radiant smile when she sees you.

“Lils! Look at you!” Leah exclaimed, her smile big as she knelt to hug Lily. “You look just like me!”

“I’m gonna cheer for you really loud, Mumma!” Lily promised, her small arms wrapped tightly around Leah's neck.

Leah stood up and pulled you into a quick hug with Lily on her hip, “I’m doing this for you, both my girls.”

“You’re going to do us so proud, love,” you whispered back, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“Time to go,” one of the staffers called. Leah gave you one last smile before joining her teammates, her face a mask of fierce concentration.

The game itself is a whirlwind of emotions. Germany proved to be a tough opponent, and every pass and every tackle had you on the edge of your seat.

In the 62nd minute, Ella managed to score a goal and Lily jumped up and down as the whole box celebrated. 17 minutes later, Germany equalised and you were sure you were going to have a heart attack.

Lily clutched her flag, jumping up and down with every near miss and goal attempt. Full time came and went and before you knew it, the girls were in extra time.

You felt sick. All you wanted was for Leah and the girls to win, they deserved it after everything they’d been through. You watched on the edge of your seat as Chloe finally scored in the 110th minute.

The stadium erupted again and everyone celebrated once again. You and Leah’s mum, Amanda, held each other's hands tightly as you watched them keep Germany out for the remaining time that extra time held.

When the final whistle blew and the score stood at 2-1 in favour of England, the roar of the crowd was deafening. You found yourself crying, a mix of relief, joy, and pride overwhelming you.

You made your way down to the front, just in time to see Leah and her teammates lifting the trophy. The confetti rained down, and the players' faces were a mix of elation and exhaustion. Leah spotted you before walking over and lifting Lily over the barrier.

She slipped her medal over Lily’s head, the gold gleaming against her small frame. Lily’s eyes widened as she held the medal, her face lighting up with pure joy.

“Look what I got, Mummy!” she smiled, running around the pitch, showing off ‘her’ medal to the girls, who indulge her with laughs and high-fives.

Leah pulled you over the barrier and pulled you close, her voice soft in your ear. “We did it.”

“You did it,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her. “I’m so proud of you.”

As the celebrations continued, the team cheered and celebrated, Lily was passed around. It started with Mary, then Ella and Alessia, then Keira before she ended up dancing with Chloe.

That evening, back at the hotel, Leah’s grandma offered to watch Lily, allowing you to join the team’s celebration. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter, music, and endless toasts. You lost count of the number of times you heard the anthem of “Football’s coming home,” and each time, it brought a fresh wave of joy.

Later, Leah and you slipped away, leaving the chaos behind. In the quietness of your hotel room, you both stood on the balcony as you held each other close.

“This was all for you,” Leah smiled, pecking your lips, “I love you, Mrs Williamson.”

“I love you too, Mrs Williamson,” you cheesily grinned, “I’m so proud of you.”