#I’m ahead but whatever will go back to normal scheduling this week

[comradekarin]

JACAERYS GET BEHIND ME!!! THEY WILL WRONGLY PERCEIVE YOU!! AND HARRY- APOLOGIZE WITH TEARS !!!!!!!!!

[itendtothinkalot]

the checklist

summary: beomgyu swore he'd never get into a relationship. it’s cringe, it’s stupid. but when he starts getting nervous and flustered around you, his best friend huening kai creates a checklist to figure out if he’s into you.

genre: fluff

characters: beomgyu x f!reader

words: 5.1k

warnings:

a/n: im glad txt's hvg rest but oh i do miss them <3<33

Beomgyu was baffled. Relationships? Love? Please. He’d never been in one, much less fallen for anyone before. The whole concept of being in love sounded like a scam to him—a nightmare wrapped in pink ribbons. The idea of dating someone was even worse. What, he’s supposed to shower them with constant attention? What is this? A puppy adoption program? A full-time babysitting gig? No, thanks.

Every time his friends gushed about their latest romantic escapades—"Oh, we’re going to this cute little café together!" or "We stayed up all night just talking!"—Beomgyu would roll his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck in the back of his head. He didn’t get it. Why would anyone willingly sign up for this chaos?

But then, you happened. And suddenly, Beomgyu found himself staring at his reflection, wondering when the hell he became one of those people.

“Kai.” Beomgyu tapped his friend's shoulder insistently, desperate for some sort of wisdom. “Kai!” He repeated, louder this time, when his friend blatantly ignored him.

Kai sighed dramatically, pulling off his headphones with the kind of irritation reserved for someone whose game was going so well. “Beomgyu, I’m literally in the middle of a match. Can this wait?”

“Sure,” Beomgyu replied with an unusually calm nod, flopping onto Kai’s bed and staring at the ceiling like he’d just been hit by an existential crisis.

That’s when Kai froze. Something wasn’t right. Beomgyu wasn’t whining, nagging, or hovering over his screen like a bratty sibling waiting for their turn to play. This was weird. Alarm bells went off in Kai’s head.

“Wait…” Kai spun around, yanking his headphones off completely. “You’re not being annoying? You’re not rushing me? What the hell happened?” He plopped down next to Beomgyu, who looked suspiciously… deflated. “Okay, who hurt you?”

“No one.” Beomgyu sighed dramatically, staring at the ceiling as if it held all the answers. “I was just… thinking.”

Kai raised an eyebrow, already suspicious. “You think?”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes and flicked Kai’s forehead without hesitation. “Occasionally. Yes. Shocking, I know.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Kai said, rubbing his forehead with a smirk. “Continue.”

Beomgyu hesitated, then sat up slightly, his voice quieter now. “It’s just… you see… there’s this girl.”

Kai’s eyes lit up, his tone immediately shifting from curious to obnoxiously teasing. “Ooooh, a girl, huh?”

“Shut up.” Beomgyu groaned, shoving him lightly. “It’s not even like that. I don’t like her like that. Or vice versa. Or—whatever. It’s complicated.” He sighed again, the weight of his confusion palpable.

Kai leaned back, crossing his arms with an amused grin. “You sound real upset for someone who doesn’t care.”

“Can you just listen to me for once? Please!” Beomgyu groaned, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Okay, fine! I’m sorry!” Kai held his hands up defensively. “I’m listening now. Go ahead, Romeo.”

“Thank you.” Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So… there’s this girl.”

Kai smirked. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Beomgyu shot him a warning glare before continuing. “She’s new at the café. Yeonjun told me to, y’know, mentor her on the drinks. So, I’ve been doing that. It’s been a couple of weeks, and, well… she’s just this normal girl. She’s studying at the same school as us, but I think she’s in a different building.”

Kai tilted his head, squinting. “Right. A totally normal girl who you’ve been thinking about so much, she’s made you think.”

Beomgyu let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “And lately… I don’t know. Yeonjun’s been putting our schedules together, and I… I don’t know how to feel about it. Like, all I know is I like working with her. I enjoy being around her. But I hate what this feeling is doing to me. It’s like—what’s the word—annoying.”

Kai raised an eyebrow, leaning back smugly. “Not gonna lie, Beomgyu, it sounds a lot like you kinda… like her.”

“That’s impossible.” Beomgyu threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t like anyone. I don’t want to be in a relationship. You know me! I couldn't care less about dating, romance, or whatever nonsense everyone seems obsessed with.”

——

One Month Ago

“And of course, this is Beomgyu,” Yeonjun said with a teasing smirk as he gestured to the tall, ridiculously attractive guy standing in front of you. “Do not be charmed by his good looks—he’s not interested in anyone. Except himself, of course.”

You blinked, gulping down the sudden lump in your throat. Okay, Yeonjun wasn’t lying—this guy was good-looking. Too good-looking. Like, unfairly good-looking. But "off-limits"? Perfect. You weren’t exactly in the market for romance anyway, not with your recent breakup looming over your head like a bad rom-com cliché.

This job was supposed to be your escape—a way to distract yourself from your ex and maybe stop scraping together couch change for instant ramen. A few shifts, some good times, and some side cash—easy, right? Except now, you were standing face-to-face with someone who looked like he belonged on a billboard instead of behind a café counter.

It would be fine. Totally fine. You weren’t interested in him. And according to Yeonjun, he wasn’t interested in anyone. Which meant you had nothing to worry about. Right?

“Hey!” you said with a small smile, offering it to the brooding guy standing before you. But instead of the moody half-nod you were expecting, he returned your smile—a sweet, disarming one that completely threw you off.

Well. Scratch “emo” off your presumptuous first impressions.

“Y’know,” you said, tilting your head curiously, “you look super familiar. Are you from the university across the street?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by your question. He nodded quickly. “Uh, yeah! Have you seen me around?”

“No,” you said, grinning as you delivered the punchline, “but I’ve seen the posters…”

Ah, the posters. A wave of embarrassment immediately washed over Beomgyu. Back in his first year, he’d been strong-armed recruited by the university’s marketing team to pose for promotional posters plastered around campus. At the time, the promise of a couple hundred bucks had been too tempting for a broke freshman to pass up. But now? Those same posters felt like his own personal humiliation tour.

“Oh. Those posters,” he mumbled, cheeks reddening as he scratched the back of his neck. “Right. Darn things…”

You laughed—a sweet, melodic sound that tugged at something unfamiliar in his chest. “It’s okay! They turned out great.”

And just like that, you walked away, following Yeonjun into the staff pantry, completely unaware of the tiny earthquake you’d just triggered in Beomgyu’s world.

He stood frozen in place, replaying the interaction in his head. The way your eyes lit up when you spoke to him, like you’d known each other forever. The way your laugh lingered in his ears, soft and warm. The way your hair bounced as you walked, catching the light in a way that felt almost cinematic.

Beautiful. That was the only word his brain could come up with. You were beautiful—too much for him to process, let alone admit. And it wasn’t just how you looked. It was the ease, the effortless charm you carried, like you’d just walked into his life to flip it upside down.

It hit him like a punch to the gut: if he did have a type, you would be it. Except…

He didn’t have a type. He didn’t want a type. He didn’t want to date anyone. Absolutely not.

So why was his heart doing cartwheels in his chest?

——

Present

“You literally like her,” Huening Kai groaned, rolling his eyes so hard it looked like they might stay that way. “Dude, you’re just in denial at this point.”

“I don’t like her!” Beomgyu shot back, glaring daggers at his best friend, hands clenched, this close to shoving Kai off the bed.

“Okay,” Kai said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Then let’s do a quick little checklist, shall we?”

Beomgyu narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

“How do you feel when she’s this—” Kai leaned in obnoxiously close, practically nose-to-nose with Beomgyu, “—close to you?”

“Uh…” Beomgyu faltered, his face heating up faster than he could come up with a retort.

——

2 Weeks Ago

“Beom, can you pass me the sugar, please?” you asked, glancing up at him.

Standing almost two heads taller than you, Beomgyu had become your unofficial ladder. Need something on a high shelf? Just call Beomgyu. And honestly? He didn’t seem to mind.

Working with him was surprisingly easy. Too easy, actually. Everyone said earning money was tough, but when Beomgyu was around, the shifts flew by, lighthearted banter here and there, and the occasional spilled drink, it was just like kindergarten. 

“Beom?” Beomgyu blinked at the nickname, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You’d only started calling him that a few days ago, but hearing it felt… weirdly nice.

“Here,” he said, reaching for the sugar. “Just don’t drop it like last time.”

“Hey!” You protested, pouting. “That’s unfair. If I recall correctly, you made me laugh, and that’s why I dropped it. So technically, it was your fault.”

“Oh, so now being charming and funny is my fault?” Beomgyu quipped, a teasing smirk dancing on his face.

“Yes,” you said with a playful nod. “But also, thank you for taking the blame for me.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, handing the sugar container to you. “It's not like Yeonjun can fire me. He needs me more than he thinks.”

Just as you reached for the sugar, your hand brushed against his. It was brief—barely a second—but it sent a jolt through Beomgyu like he’d grabbed a live wire. His grip faltered, and the container slipped from his hands.

“Beomgyu!” you laughed, not realizing that the simple touch had completely short-circuited him.

He mumbled an apology, crouching to pick up the container, but his mind was still reeling. Why was his heart suddenly pounding? Why couldn’t he stop staring at the way your smile lit up the entire room?

You. Your hands brushing against his. Your laugh ringing in his ears. Your eyes meeting his and holding his gaze just a second longer than necessary.

Perfection.

And he hated it. Absolutely hated it. Because it made him feel things he swore he’d never feel. But no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the truth was painfully obvious.

He was in trouble.

——

Present

“It feels… funny,” Beomgyu muttered, struggling to find the right word. But even as he said it, he knew "funny" didn’t even come close to describing what you did to him.

“Funny?” Huening Kai snorted with laughter. “That’s the best you can do? Alright, let’s get into the details. Do you ever... get nervous around her?”

“Does the feeling of needing to take a shit every time she’s near me count?” Beomgyu asked, his brain still scrambling for the right words.

Kai slapped his forehead, groaning. “You’re hopeless.”

——

1.5 Weeks Ago

For the past week, Beomgyu had been stuck opening the café. Normally, Yeonjun handled mornings, but some emergency had left Beomgyu in charge. He hated the added responsibility. But if he was being honest—though he’d never admit it—it also gave him an excuse to tweak the schedule so that your shifts overlapped with his. Taehyun would be okay with working late shifts for 2 weeks, right?

This morning, he found himself nervously fidgeting in front of the shiny coffee machine, using its reflection as a makeshift mirror. Was his hair okay? Maybe the little bit of gel he’d added was too much. Should he spritz on more cologne? No, too obvious.

The café was quiet, only a handful of early-morning customers scattered across tables. The clock ticked toward 9 a.m., and Beomgyu felt his heart rate pick up. Any second now.

And then the door chimed.

“Morning, Beomie!” you called cheerfully, your voice like sunshine cutting through the morning haze.

Beomgyu froze, his breath hitching as he turned to see you. You were radiant. Effortlessly glowing, even in your simple two-piece outfit that hugged you just right. Your smile was enough to knock the wind out of him.

“M-Morning!” he stammered, barely able to string two words together.

You cocked your head at him, a giggle escaping your lips. “You alright there?”

Walking over to the counter, you placed your bag down and grabbed the apron you’d left the night before. Without hesitation, you slipped it on and turned toward him, pulling the strings into your hands.

“Can you help me tie this?”

Beomgyu nodded stiffly, stepping closer. His fingers fumbled with the strings, brushing against the soft skin of your lower back. His heart skipped a beat. Why did she have to wear a crop top today? he thought miserably, trying not to combust on the spot. The warmth of your skin sent shivers racing up his spine.

“Thanks!” you chirped, spinning around to face him. But your brows furrowed as you studied him more closely.

“Gosh, Beomie, are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, leaning in and placing your hands gently on his forehead as if checking for a fever.

The sudden closeness made Beomgyu’s brain short-circuit. His knees felt weak, and his entire body betrayed him, a blush creeping up his neck.

“I—uh—I gotta use the washroom,” he blurted, stepping back awkwardly. “Be right back.”

And before you could respond, he was gone, leaving you to shake your head with an amused smile. Meanwhile, in the restroom, Beomgyu leaned against the sink, staring at his reflection.

“What the hell is happening to me?” he whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair. But deep down, he already knew the answer.

——

Present

“I hate to break it to you,” Huening Kai said, deadpan, “but that literally sounds like you’re in love with her.”

“No! It can’t be that. I’m probably just… sick,” Beomgyu stammered, shaking his head as if that would banish the thought.

Kai raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh, so you’re only ‘sick’ when she’s around? Sure, Beomgyu. Totally normal. You’re absolutely fine.” He rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck.

“I shouldn’t have asked you,” Beomgyu muttered. “Should’ve gone to Soobin. He’s less… devilish.”

Kai smirked, leaning back against the wall. “Oh yeah, Soobin. Because he’d totally never make fun of you. Not at all.”

“You’re right. I need to make new friends.” Beomgyu stood up abruptly, pretending to walk away.

Kai grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Aww, come on! Don’t be like that. I’m serious. I’m here to help. I can do this, I swear.”

“Kai,” Beomgyu groaned, “I think we should just call it a day.”

“No!” Kai exclaimed, holding up a finger like he’d just cracked the Da Vinci Code. “We’re this close. Once you admit whatever it is you’re avoiding, life will be so much easier. Trust me. I can see the future.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Just answer me one last final question.”

“What?”

“Does your heart… race? When you’re with her?”

——

2 Days Ago

“Choi Yeonjun, you stupid little shit,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath, blowing into his hands to keep warm. Sending him and you to run errands in the middle of winter felt like some kind of cruel prank.

Next to him, you were bundled up in a cozy puffer jacket, scarf, and beanie, your nose red from the cold. Beomgyu had to bite back a grin. You looked like the cutest Pop Mart figurine he’d ever seen.

You pouted, your breath visible in the freezing air. “Why couldn’t Yeonjun be more accurate with the timing? I’m freezing my ass off.”

Beomgyu crossed his arms, scowling. “I’m killing him later.”

You shook your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Or… we could always take revenge.”

Beomgyu’s brows lifted. “Oh, my sweet genius. How?”

You grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “We can replace all the coffee beans in the grinder with decaf tomorrow morning. Let’s see how Yeonjun functions without caffeine.”

Beomgyu blinked, then burst out laughing. “You’re dangerous. I didn’t realize you were as devious as you are adorable.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them, but you didn’t seem to notice. You just smiled, giggling. “I got it from my mom.”

He laughed along with you, his heart feeling lighter despite the cold.

“Gosh, is it coming yet?” you sighed, your voice trembling. The icy air seemed to suck all the energy from your words.

“Yeonjun said it’ll be here around 3:15,” Beomgyu replied, glancing at his watch. “So… about ten more minutes.”

You groaned, shivering as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “O-okay.”

“Hold on.”

You blinked, watching as Beomgyu walked away without explanation. Confused but not wanting to leave in case the truck arrived, you stayed put, hopping in place to keep warm.

A few minutes later, Beomgyu returned, holding two steaming, foil-wrapped sweet potatoes.

“Here,” he said, handing one to you.

Your face lit up, your smile bright despite the cold. You pressed the warm sweet potato to your face, sighing in relief. “I can’t feel my face.”

Beomgyu chuckled, stepping closer. “Here.” He pressed his own sweet potatoes against your cheeks, squishing them gently. “Better?”

You blinked up at him, your cheeks squished in his hands, making you look even more adorable.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stop. Beomgyu’s heart pounded in his chest as the warmth of your skin and the softness of your smile hit him like a freight train.

Then you reached up, stopping him from pulling his hands away. “Aw, no, come on. Keep them there. I’m freezing.”

Beomgyu’s cheeks burned, and for once, he was grateful for the cold air, it gave him an excuse. But even as he tried to steady his breathing, he could feel it. His heart was racing faster than ever.

——

Present

“I have feelings for her, don’t I?”

Huening popped a chip into his mouth, “I hate to say it but I told you so.”

“Well, what do I do now?”

“You’ve gotta tell her. And after you do, let Soobin know that I’ve officially won the title of Beomgyu’s top best friend this month.”

“And how am I supposed to ask her?”

“Well, just a suggestion, but you could text her?”

“That’s not romantic!” Beomgyu deadpanned.

“Oh, sorry for trying to help. You’re the same guy who once swore he’d never, in a million years, tell a girl she looks pretty because apparently, that’s basically signing up to be chained to a cage like a love-struck animal.”

“That was the old me.”

Huening smirked, popping another chip into his mouth. “Sure, that’s the ‘old you,’ but the new you is in love with her.”

Beomgyu ran a hand through his hair, pacing around the room. “I don’t even know how to start.”

Huening leaned back, watching his best friend spiral. “Well, look at it this way: if you’re already thinking of telling her, you're in the right direction.”

“I want something memorable, you know?” Beomgyu muttered. “Something more… romantic. Something she won’t forget.”

Huening raised an eyebrow. “And you think a dramatic speech in the middle of the cafe is the answer?”

Beomgyu froze. “That... actually might work.”

“Wow, you really are whipped,” Huening said, sarcastically.

“I’m serious! I’ll walk in, tell her how I feel, and let her know how much she means to me. I’m going all in, no holding back,” Beomgyu said, determination lighting up his face.

Huening sighed, shaking his head dramatically. “Alright, but just so you know, you asked me for help. And when she swoons, don’t forget to tell Soobin I won the ‘Best Friend of the Month’ award.”

Beomgyu shot him a deadpan look. “I’ll make it happen. Thanks, Best Friend.”

“Could I get that in writing? You know, so Soobin doesn’t think I’m just making stuff up.”

Beomgyu’s heart pounded in his chest as he thought about it. Texting was out of the question. He’d have to make his feelings known the right way—face-to-face, just like in the movies. He was ready for this.

——

"Okay. You’ve got this, Beomgyu," he muttered to himself, giving himself a thumbs-up. "Just say something smooth... something charming. You’re Beomgyu, the irresistible coffee god. You can do this."

He looked around, making sure no one was watching, then smiled at his reflection in the window.

“Hey, I think you’re really cool, and I like you. Wait—no, that’s too casual. Let me try again.”

He put a hand to his chin dramatically, thinking for a moment.

"How about… ‘I think you're the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and I can’t stop thinking about you.’" He immediately cringed. "Nope, nope. That sounds fucking disgusting."

Just as he was about to try again, a voice from behind him interrupted.

“Dude, just go in,” Yeonjun said, raising an eyebrow as he walked up. He'd been watching from across the street for the past ten minutes, taking in Beomgyu's solo performance with mild amusement (and taking a couple of short videos to fill his stories with).

“Yeonjun! What the hell? You scared me!” Beomgyu jumped, heart leaping into his throat.

“Stop talking to yourself like a loser and just go in already. You’re getting weird looks from the store across us," Yeonjun scoffed. “Also, I’m pretty sure the entire neighborhood has seen your failed rehearsals by now.”

Beomgyu grimaced. “I just don’t want to mess it up, okay? I need to make it perfect.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “You’ve been here for 20 minutes and the only thing you’ve perfected is looking like a robber who's about to rob MY café. Get it together. It’s just a confession. You’re fine, she’s into you. Go!”

Beomgyu shot him a glare. “I’m not a robber, Yeonjun. I’m a man with feelings... and a very fragile ego.”

“Oh, please,” Yeonjun chuckled, pushing him toward the door. “If I had a dollar for every time someone said they were ‘fragile’ before a confession, I could buy this entire block. Just go in there and stop making it a bigger deal than it is.

Beomgyu hesitated for a moment, then turned to face the door of Junnie’s, which was now just a few steps away. He took a deep breath and shot Yeonjun a look that screamed ‘I’m regretting this already.’

“You’re really doing this,” Yeonjun said, an exaggerated smirk on his face. “Alright, Beomie, go make history.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Beomgyu sighed, taking a step toward the door. “I’m going... but if I faint in there, you’re taking the blame.”

With a last nervous glance at Yeonjun, Beomgyu shoved the door open. The bell above it jingled as he walked in, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and that's when he found you behind the counter, waiting.

“Welcome to Junnie’s! How may I help you—Beomgyu? What are you doing here today?” you laughed, wiping your hands on your apron as you looked up from behind the counter.

Beomgyu leaned against the counter with a grin that could melt the coldest of hearts. “I came here to see you.”

You blinked, trying to process his words. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” he said, suddenly looking everywhere except at you. His hands were twitching like he was about to do a dance routine.

“Should I be on my break for this?” you asked, genuinely puzzled.

Beomgyu shook his head quickly, as if trying to shake off his nerves. “No, no. It’ll be quick. I think. Probably.”

You chuckled, unable to hide your confusion. “Okay, you’re acting like you’re about to tell me you robbed a bank or something. Is everything alright?”

Beomgyu froze for a second, his eyes wide. “I'm getting rid of this stupid black beanie tomorrow,” he muttered to himself, sighing.

Getting called a robber for the second time today wasn’t exactly on his to-do list.

“Then why are you sweating?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not sweating!” he replied, wiping his hands on his pants—clearly in denial. “Okay, maybe I'm a little nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” You genuinely didn’t understand, your head tilting to the side in bewilderment. “You’ve literally seen me like... a hundred times.”

“I just—” Beomgyu paused, and the silence between you two felt like forever. “Okay, maybe more than a hundred... but—”

“So, you’ve been nervous about seeing me a hundred times?” you asked, trying to piece it together.

“Definitely not,” Beomgyu said quickly, then muttered, “Well, kind of...”

“Okay, I’m lost,” you said, eyes wide, still trying to figure out why he was so flustered.

Beomgyu nodded, “Well…this is gonna be awkward, and I’m not really sure how to do this or what I’m supposed to say because I don’t want to ruin things between us—but, well, here it is.”

You immediately put your hands up, practically begging for mercy. “Oh, no, please don’t say it. Don’t say you’re not interested in me or anything like that, please.”

Beomgyu froze, looking absolutely panicked. “Huh?”

“Listen,” you said, starting to pace behind the counter like you were preparing for some dramatic monologue. “If you’re going to let me down easy, you don’t have to say anything. I know you’re not really into relationships, and I totally get it, okay? You’re the independent type. I respect that. Honestly, I wasn’t planning on doing anything crazy with my feelings. It’s all good, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Beomgyu’s face went from confused to deeply distressed. His eyes were wide, and his shoulders slumped as if someone had just stolen his favorite hoodie. “Wait, what? No! No, that’s not what I came here to say! I—”

You sighed dramatically, crossing your arms. “I mean, it’s okay. Yeonjun told me you weren’t interested in relationships. And hey, it’s fine. I’ll just stay in my lane and respect that you want to focus on… I don’t know… life, or being a free spirit or whatever. Like, I get it. I’m totally cool.”

Beomgyu blinked, frozen in place for a second, like you’d just dropped a bombshell on him. He quickly stepped forward, eyes wide with determination. “Hold on! That’s not— I’m not saying what you think!”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Really? Because I’m getting the vibe you’re not, you know, in the relationship market. Like, at all.”

He inhaled deeply, as if trying to muster all his courage to say the right thing. “I swear, I came all the way down here to tell you something completely different. Look, if I’m being honest, I… I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”

Your jaw dropped. You were completely taken aback. “You… You like me?” you stammered, suddenly feeling all kinds of flustered.

Beomgyu nodded, looking at you like you were the most beautiful person in the entire world. “Yeah. I do. A lot. Like, so much that it’s kinda scary sometimes, but also really exciting. I’m not great with words and I’ve never been good at this, but… I want to try. I know I said that I’m not interested in relationships but I don’t know…with you it just seems easy. I like you. And I want to figure out whatever this is with you, if you’ll let me.”

There was a moment of silence, your heart racing from the sheer intensity of his words. And then, like a switch flipped, you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Wow, so all this time I was thinking I had to keep my feelings to myself..”

Beomgyu flushed red, looking both nervous and utterly adorable. “Well…you’re different.”

You leaned across the counter, smiling, as you finally met his eyes. “So, wait… does this mean you’re actually asking me out? Like, for real?”

Beomgyu’s face lit up, nodding expectantly, “ Yes. I want to take you out. If you’ll let me.”

You grinned, your heart doing little flips. “Well, that’s a relief, because you’ve been driving me crazy. And I was starting to think I was gonna have to ask you out first. But of course, I wouldn’t, y’know, the whole off-the-market thing did catch me off guard at first.”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Well, a cute guy like you—who’s charming and funny—charms my ass off and apparently is off the market. Huge bummer, no?” You leaned forward slightly, making your playful tone even more obvious, but a hint of real affection crept through.

Beomgyu chuckled, his smile wide and warm. “Well, you’re in luck, because I’m officially back on the market.”

Your smile widened even more. “Hopefully not for long,” you teased, winking at him. “I’m a go-getter.”

“Oh really?” Beomgyu’s grin was teasing as he leaned just a little bit closer, eyes locked with yours. “Weren’t you the one who just said you’d respect it if I wanted to be independent?”

Your chest tightened, the playful back-and-forth somehow turning into something more serious. “Do you?”

He took another step forward, practically in your personal space now. His voice softened, but the warmth in his eyes was undeniable. “Not if it means I can’t go out with you.” 

You felt the space between you both shrink with every second. He was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath just barely brushing your skin. The intensity of the moment wrapped around you both as your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes, unsure whether it was the right moment to do what he wanted to.

Then, just as Beomgyu’s hand was hovering almost instinctively near your arm, his head slightly tilting to get a better angle, the door to the café swung open with a sharp "ding!" and Yeonjun walked in, looking around casually until his eyes landed on the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Oh no, no, no,” Yeonjun groaned loudly, immediately striding over. “Beomgyu, you’re not even supposed to be here. It’s not your shift. You’re killing the vibe. Like, really killing it.” He grabbed Beomgyu by the shoulder and pulled him away, literally lifting him off the ground as if he were a rag doll. “C’mon, man. Move it. You’re ruining the whole romantic café ambiance with all this sexual tension. Get outta here.”

Beomgyu sputtered, his face going bright red. “I wasn’t— I mean, we were—”

“Yeah, I know exactly what you were doing,” Yeonjun interrupted, giving him a smirk. “And I’m putting an end to it before things get too heated in here. Don’t think I didn’t see those looks. You two are about two seconds away from having an impromptu makeout session right in front of all the customers.” He turned to you with a grin. “No offense, but you’re about to turn this café into something disgusting, and I can’t handle that right now.”

“There’s only one customer!” 

“And he has two eyes!” 

You tried to hide your grin but failed miserably as you watched Beomgyu attempt to protest while being dragged out. “Fine, fine, I’ll go,” Beomgyu grumbled. “But you’re not getting rid of me for good.” He shot you one last flirty smile before Yeonjun practically shoved him out the door.

You stood there, stunned and flustered, trying to regain your composure as the moment you thought might just happen slipped away. As Beomgyu’s laughter faded down the street, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. Yeonjun shot you an apologetic look. “I know, I know, I’m a buzzkill. But don’t worry. Knowing how annoying he is, he’ll probably be back in a couple of minutes.”

You shook your head, grinning despite yourself. “He’s lucky you stopped him, or I’d have kissed him right there.”

Yeonjun’s grin was full of mischief. “Why do you think I stopped the both of you?”

[dancethroughthethunder]

Taking Care of You

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You've been having a weird week, and Bob isn’t really sure why until he takes a closer look at the calendar and realizes you have a doctor’s appointment you’re dreading. Bob spends the next few days taking care of you, and loving on you a little extra with your favorite things. Whether or not you want to talk about what’s got you worried, Bob’s always going to be there for you – as your boyfriend, that’s his job.

Author's Note: Hi friends. Reader is pretty worried about a doctor’s appointment here, specifically with the gynecologist. I kept it completely vague, there’s no mention or allusion as to why this is bothering her and there is no description at all of the actual appointment. We jump from her driving there to her driving home. This is something that’s personal to me, and important to me. I’ve been working on this for a little bit. If you’re also someone who (for any reason) dreads going to the gynecologist, or any doctor, I love you and I see you. I’m proud of you, and so is our sweet Bob Floyd. My tumblr DMs are open if you want to chat.

Something’s been bothering you this week. Not the entire time, but enough for Bob to pick up on the pattern. That’s a problem for two reasons: one, he doesn’t like seeing you upset for any reason, and two, he can’t quite figure out what’s causing it. He doesn’t like not knowing. He prides himself on being observant at work, with his friends, and most certainly when it comes to you and your relationship. But this time, it takes him the better part of the week to figure out what’s bothering you.

It started on Sunday. You were prepping the white board calendar in your kitchen while Bob worked on your grocery list for the week. As per usual, you had the radio on and were listening to something bright, catchy, and almost guaranteed to get you to abandon your task in favor of dancing together. At some point, you stopped humming. He’s been trying to remember all week when exactly that happened, but he spent so much of the time with his head in the fridge trying to decide what you needed that he missed it entirely. He pulled his head out of the fridge and was met by silence on your end. He turned around, expecting to see you reaching to skip ahead to the next song on the playlist or being incredibly focused, cross-referencing the many schedules and calendars you both keep. Instead, he found you quietly staring down at the white board.

“You alright, darlin?” He asked.

“Hmm?” You looked up, startled. “Oh, I’m alright, baby. Just zoned out I guess.” Blinking away whatever thoughts you had been lost in, you smiled and went back to humming while you worked. It was a bit of a weird moment, but Bob quickly turned back to his task and didn’t think any more of it for the rest of the night. 

Then on Monday, while the two of you were chatting over dinner, you reminded him that you had a doctor’s appointment on Friday afternoon. You said you had scheduled it a while back, and it was just a normal check up. Then, you went back to talking about work. It seemed a little hurried but it’s not unlike you to jump from conversation topic to conversation topic, even quickly interrupting yourself before you can finish your first thought. So by the time there was a break in the conversation for Bob to interject, he, too, was primarily focused on the work drama you had been explaining. 

He can’t say for certain, but he probably asked a quick follow up question about your appointment, and let you steer the conversation back towards work. Why wouldn’t he have? Especially given your assurance that everything was fine, and it was just a normal check-up. You seemed far more interested in what you had overheard at work that morning and your lively storytelling easily captured Bob’s attention. By the time you went to bed that night, Bob hadn’t given it a second thought.

Tuesday came and went as per usual. You both went to work, came home, had dinner together, and later the two of you had sex. As far as your sex life went, Tuesday was a pretty normal day. You were both incredibly satisfied, thank you very much, and you seemed like your normal self. Except afterwards, you practically tripped over yourself getting out of bed to go shower. When Bob checked in on you, you swore everything was fine, you just felt sweatier than normal and wanted a nice cool shower before you were too tired. That made sense, and Bob didn’t want to push it or insist you were hiding something, so he gave you a kiss on the cheek and told you he loved you as he made his way past you for his turn in the shower.

Then last night while you were reading, it was your turn to pick the music. Without hesitation, you reached for one of the albums that you always classify as belonging on the ultimate sad girl playlist. Bob raised an eyebrow at you, but didn’t say anything about it. Sometimes you also just want something more mellow to listen to while reading, and everything else seemed fine as far as he knew. Besides, it’s a good album. He gave it a few minutes before he asked if you were alright. You promised him that you were fine, thanked him for asking, and went back to your book. 

With your attention fully on the mystery unraveling in your story, you didn’t see the way that Bob’s eyebrows furrowed. All of a sudden it was like there was a big glowing question mark hovering over you, highlighting all of the little moments he had originally taken at face value. Separately, they could have all been explained away, but back-to-back in one week, he’s sure that something is going on. So he resolved to get a second opinion before pressing you for more information, just in case he was overthinking it and everything really was fine.

It’s important to Bob that you have moments that are just for the two of you. Beyond your sex lives, beyond any clear secrets, he never wants you to feel like everything you say or do is going to be put under a microscope and dissected. Certainly not by him, or by any of the other people he’s close with. As a result, he tries to be careful about what he tells Natasha. Yes, she’s his best friend, but he doesn’t want either of you in a position where you worry he’s just going to turn around and spill everything to the other. He’ll tell Nat about the funny things you said, and he told her when you first swapped “I love you”s, and when he asked you to move in with him. And yes, he’s told Nat about the little ways you’ve gotten on each other's nerves, and will ask for advice from time to time, but he tries to be considerate of the both of you when he does it. 

This time, he’s started to worry that he’s been missing something for the better half of the week and knows that he needs some advice from his best friend to figure it out. So before work this morning, he texted Nat and asked her if she wanted to grab coffee before the day started. They sat next to each other in the parking lot as he filled her in on everything he could think of from the past week starting from his realization last night. At this point, he’s so worried about not realizing you were upset that he’s even sharing the things that might not be related like how you’ve said work is going, your most recent conversation with your mother, and what you’ve been having for dinner. 

In turn, he answers every random question Nat has, even when he’s a little embarrassed. Nat wants to help him figure this out so she asks when you last went on a date, is he sure he didn’t do anything, when did you last have sex, and what other than work do you have this week? He tells her you went out Sunday morning for a breakfast date, as far as he knows he hasn’t, he blushes when he says Tuesday, and finally a lightbulb goes off for both of them when he mentions your doctor's appointment tomorrow. 

“Bob. Is there any chance something’s wrong?” Natasha asks gingerly.

“No, she said she made the appointment a little while ago. She seemed normal, healthy, I don’t think anything is wrong.” He starts to ramble. “Oh, and she specified it was a check-up.”

“Okay.” Nat nods. “My money’s on the doctor’s appointment. Maybe take a look at the calendar, see if there are any other clues. Or maybe it’s just a shitty week, we’ve all been there.” She shrugs.

“I know. I just don’t want her to think I don’t care.” He admits, deflating a little as he does.

“There’s no way, Bob. You two are crazy about each other. There’s no chance in hell that she’s worried about that. Besides, if something is bothering her, I doubt she’s expecting you to be able to magically figure it out on your own.” With that, Nat climbs down off the back of Bob’s truck and nudges him to head inside so they can start their day.

Bob spends the rest of the day thinking about their conversation and resolves to double check the calendar when he gets home. 

Thursdays are your in-office days, and no matter how hard you try, you’re often one of the last members of your team to head home for the day. That gives Bob the perfect opportunity to try and figure things out a little bit by himself. After getting home and changing out of his uniform, Bob walks up to the calendar and looks at tomorrow, where you have “Doctor @ 1PM” written neatly. 

Bob sits down and stares at the calendar, trying to think. He knows your dentist appointment isn’t until next month, and you just got new glasses a month ago. He can’t entirely remember, but he thinks that your physical was in the fall, just like his. It would be more helpful if you had listed any more information on the calendar. The doctor’s name, maybe. Or the name of the practice/office.

That’s it! Bob thinks. With your friends in and out of your house sometimes, there’s only one doctor whose name you probably wouldn’t list on your calendar. 

Bob picks up the phone to call Nat, excited to have figured it out. 

“I think you’re right. I think it’s the doctor.” He says after exchanging greetings. 

“Okay, that makes sense.” He can practically see the no-nonsense way she nods in response. 

“It’s Dr. Walker, her OB-GYN.” Bob says, with his mouth moving faster than his brain now that he’s putting together the pieces of the puzzle. “That’s why she’s stressed. She hates going.” 

For a normally private person, that’s a lot of information for him to give Natasha. Part of him worries that he’s overstepping and telling Nat too much, but she doesn’t seem surprised as she answers without hesitation. 

“That makes so much sense, Bob. I know she’s told me how much she dreads it. Even at the best of times, it sucks.” She laughs.

“Alright, I’m going to run to the store before she gets home.” Bob thanks Nat for her help, and even though he knows he doesn’t need to, makes her promise not to say anything about your appointment, or any of the rest of their conversation from this morning. 

Quickly grabbing his keys, Bob heads right back out hoping he can get everything done and get home before you do. Bob heads to the supermarket where he gets you some of your favorite flowers, a new under-eye mask, a card, some ice cream, your favorite breakfast pastry and garlic bread, and your favorite salad bowl. 

Bob gets home and quickly gets to work. He puts the under-eye mask in the fridge like you always do, but hides it behind the butter so you won’t notice right away. Next, he puts away the food he bought you, similarly hiding it where he can. The salad goes under the rest of the veggies, and the pastry gets hidden in the breadbox. 

From there, Bob gets out a vase and trims your flowers, placing the vase right on the kitchen table where you’ll see it soon after getting home. Then he sits down, filling out the card, before tucking it away in his nightstand. 

He finishes up with just enough time to be able to get dinner started by the time you walk in the door. 

“Hi baby.” You call out as you slip off your shoes.

“Hi darlin’, great timing. The pasta’s on the stove.” He comes out of the kitchen and meets you in the doorway to give you a kiss. 

“You’re the best. How did I get so lucky?” You smile. Bob takes your work bag from your hands to drop off by your desk as you go to change into comfy clothes and wash off your makeup. When you come back out to the kitchen a few minutes later, Bob is just finishing setting the table.

“Robert, is that what I think it is?” You point at the bread sitting on the table. “I thought we were making those frozen garlic knots?” 

“That was the plan, but I thought this sounded better.” 

Given the smile on your face, you clearly agree. 

Bob serves the pasta while you serve the salad, in a practiced routine, before diving into stories about work while you eat. Bob wonders how he could have missed it all week. Now that he knows, he can see the way you glance at the calendar every so often as if it’s a dark cloud hovering over you. He doesn’t think you’re ready to talk about it, given the fact you haven’t directly mentioned it, and truthfully he’s not even sure if you know that you’re doing it. Instead of asking right then, Bob makes a mental note to bring it up later, and continues talking about work. 

“Alright, you. I’ve got this tonight.” He says once you’re both done eating, indicating towards the dirty dishes on the table. “Why don’t you go hop in the shower?” 

Predictably, you start to argue. “No, you made dinner, let me clean it up.”

Bob grabs the salad dressing and parmesan cheese and makes his way over towards the fridge. “Really, honey. I’ve got it tonight. I know in-office days feel so long. Why don’t you go take a nice long shower?” 

Bob comes over and gives you a kiss on the forehead as you nod and make your way into your bedroom to to disrobe before heading into the bathroom. He hears the shower start running as he puts the leftovers in the fridge. He knows he has a little time before you emerge, so he finishes clearing the table and washing all of the dishes. Then, he heads over to your desk and grabs two sticky notes and a pen, writing you two more notes. 

By the time he’s finished all of his tasks, you’re still in the shower, which is perfect for what he’s planning. He grabs a clean towel out of the hall and tosses it into the dryer to warm up for you before knocking and letting himself into the bathroom.

“Just me, darlin’.” He says as he enters.

“Hi baby. I’m just finishing up.” You call out while Bob swaps your original towel with the warm one. 

“You mind if I hang out in here? I wanna spend time with my girl.” Bob says. You can’t see him but he winks anyway.

“You’re a flirt, Robert Floyd.” You stick your head out from behind the shower curtain while you tease him. This time, you’re looking right at him when he winks. Smiling, you duck back into the shower. He knows that being okay right now doesn’t mean you aren’t still nervous about tomorrow, but Bob is glad to see that for the moment, at least, things seem good. 

Bob sits up on the bathroom counter while you finish your shower. Once the shower turns off, he grabs your warm towel and gets ready to give it to you. You push the curtain open and automatically reach for your towel, expecting it to be in its normal sport. Surprised, you look up at Bob to see him holding it out for you. 

“Oh, thank you!” You’re pleasantly surprised by the warm towel. 

“I was thinking, maybe after my shower we could do a face mask together?” 

Bob tries to keep his face neutral but he’s pretty sure that you know why he’s asking. You know he’s figured out that you’re worried about tomorrow. But you don’t address it directly, you just agree with his plan, and despite still being wet and wrapped in a towel, step into his waiting arms. You nestle your head in the crook of his neck as he holds you. Neither of you say anything for a minute, you just breathe together while Bob gently rubs your back through the towel. 

“I’m going to go get dressed.” You say as you finally pull away, heading towards your bedroom. 

While Bob showers, you put on your comfiest pair of pajamas and braid your hair back, so it won’t be in the way of your face mask. You grab your book and head to the couch, where you wait for Bob to be ready. 

After he showers, Bob similarly dries off and comes to meet you in the living room. 

“I’ve got something for you.” He leads you into the kitchen, where he procures the under-eye mask from the fridge. “I thought it might be nice. Do you want to do them with our face mask or after?”

“With.” You nod as you grab the under-eye mask and follow Bob to the bathroom. 

Bob can’t help but watch you as you gently place the under-eye masks on. When you go to grab the jar of mud mask you like, he stops you.

“Can I do it?”

Surprised, you nod. Bob gently brushes back the few pieces of hair that are trying to escape your braid and opens the jar. Delicately, he starts using his fingers to apply the mud to your face with his right hand while he cups your chin with his left. He’s so focused on what he’s doing, you can see the concentration in the slight furrow of his brows as he swipes his fingers across your cheek. You take a deep breath, willing yourself not to cry at how deeply and how clearly he loves you – how clearly written it is on his face. 

Once you’re covered with the face mask, Bob very gently leans in for a kiss, careful not to disturb any of the mud he’s placed. 

“My turn.” You take the jar from his hands as he washes the mud off his fingers in the sink and then proceed to similarly apply it to his face. 

Neither of you are mind readers, but you both know what the other is thinking: wow, I’m so lucky to love you. Look at you. You’re beautiful. 

Copying Bob’s previous movements, you give him a kiss once you’re done before washing your hands. Bob sets a timer and leads you back to the couch so you can read your book while you wait. When the timer goes off, you two head back to the bathroom to clean your faces and once the mud is gone, Bob takes the opportunity to press kisses all over your still wet, clean face while you giggle. 

“I love you.” You say, in between giggles. 

“I love you too.”

“Thank you for this.” It’s the closest to admitting you’re worried that you’ve gotten all week, and the closest you’ll get for the night. But Bob is patient and he doesn’t push. He just smiles and tells you that’s his job as your boyfriend. 

You spend the rest of the night on the couch together before getting in bed a little earlier than normal. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck as you take melatonin, trying to proactively combat the pre-appointment anxiety that might threaten to keep you up all night. Even though you haven’t talked openly about your appointment, you know that Bob knows you’re nervous but don’t want to talk about it, and Bob knows that you know he’s there for you. 

By the time you wake up the next morning, Bob is just about ready to leave for work. It’s a combination of his need to get there so early for morning exercises and your ability to work from home removing the need to factor in a commute. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” He greets you as you come into the kitchen. “I’m just about to head out, but I’ve got breakfast ready for you at your desk.” You sleepily walk up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you greet your boyfriend with a hug. 

“Thank you, baby. Have a good day at work.”

“I love you. Call me during lunch, if you want.” Bob presses a kiss to your forehead before ducking down to kiss you properly.

“I love you, fly safe, be safe.” You tell him, like you do every morning. With one last kiss, Bob makes his way to work and you head into your spare room where you keep your desk. When Bob said he had breakfast ready, you’d expected toast and a coffee and are surprised to find your favorite breakfast pastry plated next to your computer with a card. 

Hi, darlin’. I thought this might be a nice way to start your day. I love you. You’ve got this. 

B

You smile as you read the note before pinning it to the corkboard you keep covered in cards, notes, photos, and other memories. You take a few minutes for yourself to eat breakfast and scroll on your phone before you start work, sending Bob a quick text thanking him for breakfast and the note. When you open your laptop a few minutes later, you’re surprised by a sticky note stuck down below the keyboard.

Happy Friday, almost the weekend. I love you. 

B

You smile as you trace the heart signed next to his initial before also adding it to your corkboard and sending Bob a selfie of you holding up the note and smiling.

Luckily, your morning is surprisingly a little busy which keeps your mind busy until you have to leave for your appointment. When 12:15 rolls around, you’re grabbing your keys and making your way to the car as a text lights up on your phone.

Bob: I love you. I’ll see you later. You’re doing great. 

You’re pretty impressed with his ability to time the text right for when he needs to leave, and later he’ll tell you how excited he was when Nat mentioned he could schedule-send a text to you. But for now, you make your way to your appointment and try not to give in to the dread you’re starting to feel. You remind yourself that you like Dr. Walker, she’s always been nice, and it’s just going to be a quick appointment – you’ll be in and out in no time. 

An hour later you’re on your way home. Your heart is still racing compared to normal, but you’re okay. As the logical side of you expected, it was a quick and easy appointment with Dr. Walker making you as comfortable as possible. That doesn’t stop you from feeling the after-effects of the adrenaline flooding your system. You take a minute to curse your previous decision making to not take off the entire afternoon as you head home and get ready to log back into work. 

Across town, Bob is counting down the hours until he can get home. He knows you’re fully capable and can go to this appointment on your own, but he wishes you didn’t have to. He loves the Navy but on days like today, he wishes he had a more “normal” job where he could easily take off the afternoon, or call out to drive you to your appointment. He’d sit there holding your hand in the waiting room, and be ready with a hug as soon as you were done. Unfortunately he can’t do that, so he hopes that you’re at least enjoying the treats he left you.

For some reason, it’s the salad you find in the fridge that’s your breaking point. Getting home after your appointment, you’re more than ready for lunch. When you open the fridge and find your favorite salad sitting there with a sticky note, you promptly burst into tears. 

You did it. I’m so proud of you. I’ll see you in a few hours, sweetheart.

B

You’re just so full of love for Bob, you don’t possibly know what you’d do without him. You hope never to find out. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon listening to music you like, just trying to focus on work. You know it doesn’t work that way, but part of you is starting to feel dumb, ridiculous, broken, for being so upset after what was a nice, easy appointment. But you know that’s not helpful or true so you try to brush the thoughts aside as you finish up your work week. 

When the clock hits 5, you’re more than ready to log off, tired from a full week of work and the mental load of your appointment. You immediately go change back into your comfy pajamas before curling up on the couch with reruns of one of your favorite shows until Bob gets home. You’re expecting him home around 6 like most nights, but you don’t hear the door open until closer to 6:30.

“Hey darlin’.” Bob greets you, as he gets home. “I hope you don’t mind but I picked up takeout on the way home. It sounded a little more exciting than leftovers today.” 

You stand up from the couch and meet Bob in the kitchen. Bob sets the bag of food down on the counter as you come running towards him, practically slamming your body into him for a hug.

“I love you. Thank you for being so good to me.” You tell him, as you start to cry.

“Hey now, it’s okay. I’ve got you. That’s my job, darlin’. I’m your boyfriend, and it’s my favorite thing.” He tells you, softly rubbing your back and letting you cry.

“You’re so good at it.” You look up at him with watery eyes. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks gently.

“Can we just have dinner?” You shake your head.

“Sure thing, baby. Do you want to grab silverware and napkins so we can eat on the couch tonight?”

Bob watches as you head into the kitchen to grab them, before he heads into the living room with the takeout. 

“Great choice.” He says, seeing the show you’re in the middle of. “More of this?” He asks.

“I don’t think so. Wanna watch a movie?” You ask as you come back into the room. 

The two of you finish dinner while you watch one of your favorite movies. Bob’s seen it probably a dozen times with you, and you’ve probably seen it closer to three dozen times on your own. He’ll never get tired of it, watching your face throughout your favorite parts and hearing you laugh like it’s the first time. After you finish dinner, Bob puts away the garbage and the dishes before coming back to the couch. He sits back down in his spot before he pulls you over onto his lap.

“Hey, I know today was hard. I love you. We can talk if you want, but we don’t have to.” He says as you adjust to lay down against him. 

“I think I’m okay right now. I cried earlier. It was the salad.” You admit, with a laugh. “I know I said it already but thank you for taking care of me. Even when it’s something silly like being upset over a normal appointment. You’re always so good to me.”

“It’s not silly, sweetheart. You’re allowed to be upset. It’s unpleasant, and it sucks, but you did it. I’m proud of you.” 

You turn around and kiss Bob before settling back into your spot in his arms.

“Now what do you say we finish this movie and then have some ice cream?” 

“I think we can do that.” You say as you grab the remote to resume the movie. 

It’s been a tough week, but laying here in Bob’s arms, you’re feeling better already. For his part, Bob doesn’t know if you’ll want to talk more about your appointment later or how you were feeling but that’s okay. The most important part is that you’re on the same page and that he’s taking care of you. He’ll say it over and over again: that’s his job, he loves you, and he’s always going to take care of you. No matter what.

[hotnbloodied]

Yan!Loser X Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

TW: kidnapping, drugging, non-con kissing and touching, stalking, mentions of axe body spray.

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

Pt. 2

It was around lunch time and you were on your way to your university’s canteen. You normally had lunch a little later to avoid the crowds but today you couldn’t hold your hunger in at all and you needed to get something to eat. In doing so the canteen was packed and by the time you had gotten some food all the tables seemed full. You scanned around for a little bit before noticing a small table that only had one person sitting at it. A guy with a small frame and black baggy clothes with messy unkempt hair. Without thinking too much about it you walked over. “Hey sorry to bother, would you mind if I could just sit here and eat?” You asked.

He looked like he jolted a little and looked at you like he'd seen a ghost. “Y-yeah…” Not much of a response, but that didn’t stop you from going ahead and sitting down to start devouring your food. After you were finally satiated you looked over cause you felt like someone was watching you and needless to say, his eyes were glued on you.

“Uh, do I have something on my face?” You asked him. His face whipped away. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” You laughed and told him it wasn’t a big deal. “What’s your name anyway? I’m (y/n), majoring in (major).” He raised his head to look at you again. “I’m Lester, I’m a biology major…” “That’s awesome!” You look at the time. “I should probably head out, my next class starts soon. See you around though!” Little did you know that your small act of kindness would come back to haunt you.

A couple of weeks pass and you seem to be seeing Lester more and more around campus. (Totally not because he’s trying to learn your schedule at all.) You don’t pay too much mind to it though considering a new friend is always nice. (As if he’d allow you to just be friends with him.) The two of you exchanged social messaging information which turned into an easy way for Lester to keep tabs on you. (You really should be careful about how you share your information.) You didn’t notice the increase of interaction from Lester, you were too sleep deprived and worried about school to notice which he’s grateful for since it’ll make it easier to make plans. Lester was a patient man, he knows how to make a pay off extra sweet.

You learn a bit more about Lester, even though he has a messy appearance he actually is a relatively neat person. He seemed to shower regularly and his clothes weren’t being reworn, but he only chooses to use axe body spray at his age for some reason. He doesn’t seem to have many friends cause, shocker, he’s an extreme introvert; Which makes you pity him which he fully knows and uses to play into to get your trust. With that trust he invites you over to his house, apparently his parents are in the science field as well and as long as Lester keeps his grades up they’d let him do whatever. The two of you would hang out and study at his place.

Six months had passed in a blink of an eye and the two of you were watching a movie together, it wasn’t that late but you felt extremely sleepy for some reason. The two of you just ate dinner that Lester cooked. “Hm? What’s wrong (y/n)? Are you tired?” “Haha, yeah I don’t know why. Maybe I was more tuckered out with finals than I thought.” “Why don’t you stay over? You’re more than welcome to spend the night.” You didn’t reply to Lester, it was because the sleeping pills he slipped into your drink worked like wonders and you were out like a light. Lester slowly dragged your body to his room and laid you on his bed. Chains were ready for you as he securely bound you to them. He loomed over your sleeping body in his bed, he couldn’t keep the excitement in his pants at bay. He took advantage of your lips and dry humped your leg, imagining what it would be like to finally be able to become one with you. Oh if only you knew how love sickness ran in his family. How that’s how his mom ensnared his dad and how having his ground and alibi covered was a learned family skill. No one will find you and you two will live happily together, forever. <3

Pt. 2

Lester <3

[pallastrology]

surviving mercury retrograde 🫖

since the often-dreaded transit affectionately known as mercury retrograde is coming up, i thought i’d write a little post talking about how i personally get through it. some of you may know that i’m a virgo rising with mercury retrograde in the first house. so mercury retrograde tends to hit me like a ton of bricks! over the years, i’ve worked on a little survival guide of sorts, and decided to share it in hopes of easing the transit for you a little bit.

firstly: it will pass. mercury rx only lasts about three weeks, which, yeah, feels like a lifetime when it’s not going well. but it does pass, and in the grand scheme of things, three weeks is almost nothing. when you feel like everything’s falling apart at the seams, take a moment to remind yourself that whatever is going on for you won’t last forever, and calmer seas lie just past the storm.

stay on top of your schedule. mercury rx tends to cause problems with communication, travel and timing; plans go awry, time escapes you, the bus doesn’t show up. this is all completely normal, and there are things you can go to mitigate the effects. personally, i make sure to stay more on top of my to-do list than normal, try not to pack too much into a day (because things will inevitably take longer than normal, or i’ll end up sidetracked and having to rewrite my whole week!). leave enough space in your diary to add things on if you need, and then if you have free time, enjoy it! use it to get ahead of the game, or just take a break – we all need and deserve them from time to time. another thing i do is try to prioritise what needs to be done today, and what can wait if i do get overly busy. these are all handy skills to have in general, but when everything goes a little haywire, it really helps to be able to focus on the important things and reorganise the rest without too much stress.

look at your chart. mercury rx will affect us all a little differently, and this is due to where it lands in our chart, and which of our placements it activates. i’ll use a personal example here: for me, it lands in my fourth house – the house of home and family – and will form a conjunction to my natal mercury. disaster, right? well, it doesn’t have to be. at least i’m prepared, and when i’m going through a crisis and feeling overwhelmed, i can take a breath and remind myself this is just part of the transit. i know in advance to really watch my work schedule so as not to overbook myself, stay on top of my workload, and put in 110% to keep things running efficiently while making time for my family and rest. having a sense of why this is happening, and the foresight to be able to plan ahead and feel a little more in control, brings a sense of power over your situation. personal power is so important for your wellbeing, so make the most of the power of foresight here!

add extra travel time. this might sound silly, but the amount of times i’ve been late, or had to massively rush to get somewhere on time, or to get something handed in or completed on time, during mercury rx is shocking! nowadays, as part of my personal survival guide, i make sure to add an extra five minutes to get ready and to get to my location, i check deadlines more carefully and make sure to finish before them in case there are problems, and i’m careful not to go for back-to-back engagements when possible. it’s more for peace of mind than anything, but it definitely seems to help keep life calmer during a hectic time.

communicate clearly. because retrogrades tend to send energy inwards, communication can get tricky. you might find it’s harder to make yourself understood, or you misunderstand others more. old arguments, often over silly things, can pop up like daisies. people from the past can reappear and bring up all sorts of emotions. i would recommend journaling to anyone, but especially if you’re struggling to make sense of your thoughts and feelings, journaling can be an amazing tool to help you reflect and analyse what’s going on for you. i find it really fascinating to read back through old journal entries too, and look at the themes of the transit through my own words. when it comes to communicating with other people, if you’re dealing with professional situations, i would recommend following up communications with an email or letter reiterating your points. this helps keep the record straight and prevent crossed wires later down the line. in your personal life, it can be helpful to remind yourself that the person who is driving you mad right now is someone you love and care about, and you don’t want to hurt them. you can give criticism without being harsh, though it’s more difficult during this transit. take breaks if you need to during arguments, and make sure you’re being clear with what you want. sometimes i find i go round in circles while trying to express something, and my original point gets lost. taking a breather to reassess what you’re trying to say and then coming back to the conversation can be really helpful here.

stay grounded in the present. when any planet goes retrograde, it’s easy to focus on the past. old issues seem to swing back around to meet you in the present, and you may encounter full-circle moments. so when you’re feeling overwhelmed by old arguments, old friends and lovers, and old thoughts, take a moment to ground yourself in the present. you could use mental grounding to affirm where and when you are, or utilise an anchoring object. i have a post that talks about grounding techniques in more detail here which may be helpful if this is something you would be interested in, but essentially, you are helping yourself to emotionally understand where and when you are, as opposed to logically knowing but feeling stuck in the past.

lastly: it might not be all that deep. transits definitely have an affect on our day-to-day lives, i’m not going to dispute that. but perhaps they don’t have as much power as we feel they do. is there a bit of placebo effect that comes into play when we’re running late for work during mercury rx? probably, yeah! our brains are incredibly powerful organs, and our beliefs can hugely impact our perception of, and feelings about, our current situation. if you’re feeling overwhelmed and at the mercy of a transit, it might be time to take a step away from astrology and just let yourself live in the moment. more than anything, we are at the mercy of our own perception, and that’s something that we can work on.

i hope this guide helps you feel a little more prepared, and a little less scared, of mercury retrograde. take care of yourselves readers,

kira xo

[quillyfied]

Hellaverse Theories: Helluva Boss S2E4

Welcome to Quilly’s Hellaverse Theories, where I overthink the entire Hellaverse! Now, folks, I’m a gentle soul. I prefer comedies and romances to drama and angst. But. Every so often. Every now and then. I get a dark hunger for some whump (followed by comfort but lol this episode does not provide that service). And this episode? DELIVERS. HURT THE BELOVED BIRD MAN. HUMBLE HIM. WHEEEEE!

Anyway. S2E4 WESTERN ENERGY HERE WE COME.

“Where the poor pour for you” good GRIEF okay. Also I didn’t know imps came that tiny. Someone help them. And build a Zootopia-esque tiny town for them, if they don’t already have that.

I see divorce settlement negotiations are going well :P It’s so funny to see Stolas being openly petty and bitchy to Stella when Via isn’t caught in the immediate crossfire, because we see through flashbacks (so far) that he really, really didn’t talk back or question her much during their marriage (not never, just not much). This is “don’t you want to just go apeshit” at its most refined. And lol at Andrealphus trying to wrangle Stella; she’s many things but tame has never been one of them and if she wasn’t such an egregious abusive violent bastard it would be more impressive (and I have some Thoughts about her and places this personality trait of hers could go/mean if given proper development, but later in the episode).

Alright, Stolas’ notification that he has a meeting with Ozzie in three days. That puts a timeline on this thing that may become amended by Oops, because after what Stolas is about to go through, I’m not sure he’s able to keep that meeting; and Striker does say “had a royal on the ropes just last week,” and Fizzarolli schedules Stolas for a nooner, so maybe it did need to get rescheduled while Stolas recovered. Not for long, though; a week at most. I don’t know how long people are in the hospital for normally when they get the kind of treatment Stolas gets, but he spends three days to a week in recovery, then still has bandages by the time Full Moon rolls around (whenever it may be)—demonic resilience, even in the face of holy weapons. Also. Where the HECK does blessed rope come from?? (And on the subject of timing, Blitzo spends a week tracking his sister while Moxxie and Millie are working the camper job—does it take Stolas a full week to recover? The chronology is so tiresome to track sometimes.)

But anyway, back to Andrealphus and his stupid face and his transparent attempts at manipulation. He’s kinda bad at this when he doesn’t have any ammunition, but he IS related to Stella, so I wonder if they both compensate the lack of skillful manipulation with pure arrogance. And I do very much question if Stella is as stupid as Andrealphus clearly thinks and says she is, or if she just has different goals and motivations and isn’t inclined to share them. Reducing Stella to an empty-headed spoiled brat just feels wrong in a show (and, frankly, a universe) where nearly every character has SOME sort of hidden depths, even if they’re just hints.

Also: I notice that at this fancy tea place, it’s not just Goetians demons. I see other Hellborn there as well (the lady at the table Striker lands on looks like she’s a succubus shark with very lovely tail fins, good work on the genetic lottery, madam). Interestingly wide social strata. Also, just gonna go ahead and speculate about it here: it’s weird that every ring has localized demon strains, but Wrath’s imps and (I am assuming heavily here, since Bee is hound-shaped and also appears to be the beast tamer in Lucifer’s merry Hellish circus) Gluttony’s hellhounds are at the bottom of that heap. Succubi/incubi, sharks, baphomets, whatever Envy has (possessors, I’ve heard it said? Not in-show yet so idk but I’ll go with it for now), even sinners from Pride—why are they higher on the social ladder than imps and hellhounds? How did that come about?

Very interesting to me too that Striker is clearly not full-blooded imp (very sharky), but he identifies as an imp and also has some strong opinions on his own superiority to the rest of imp-kind. There is a parallel there to be drawn to the real world that I am unqualified to speak on and am going to back away slowly from, but it has been noticed. And it’s also noticed that Striker isn’t immune from the affliction of having deeper waters within, too. Dude has a backstory and I’d love to know it.

Striker is a damn good gunslinger, though, and that’s fun to watch.

Holy balls I finally found the frame with the higher-class demon (maybe lower-ranking Goetia? Given that she has pupils?) who has a purse imp. That is. Deeply uncomfortable, actually.

HA also found Striker’s wanted posters. “Preferably dead please” NICE

Such a change for how Blitzo answers the phone when Stolas calls this time, though. He might just be trying to keep calm and easy because Loona is so distressed, but I also like to think, given his reaction in a minute when he realizes how deep Stolas might actually be in it, that Blitzo might have cooled off slightly since Ozzie’s. They haven’t talked about their issues one jot, but time does tend to take the edge off certain wounds. Time, and having an adventure in the human world together involving their daughters, and maybe skipping a few full moons, it’s really unclear.

“What does he look like, your Highness?” “Hmm…sexy?” “That’s Striker, sir!” Never fails to make me laugh. Of COURSE that’s how they identify who’s got Stolas trussed up on the back of a horse XD Also, this episode is an important one not just for breaking everyone’s illusion about Stolas’ untouchable nature and power, but for breaking the last scrap of fantasy that Stolas is clinging to about the nature of his and Blitzo’s relationship. He isn’t taking this seriously yet, despite the blessed rope, and the fact that Stolas isn’t more worried makes me think he doesn’t know about the previous assassination attempt, because I think he’d be way more concerned if he remembered that this same guy tried to kill him with an angelic rifle. He might know. Because it would be just as in-character for Stolas to know but just shrug and move on because it’s not like anything happened, he’s fine, Striker didn’t get him and he hasn’t ever been seriously physically threatened before. This is another step in Stolas’ painful, painful growing up process. It hurts, but it’s shaping him into a demon who can maybe not just become better for Blitzo and for Octavia, but better for Hell in general. And by better, I mean more willing to look the social structure of it in the face and go “no, this sucks, actually.” Again, I don’t know that Helluva Boss proper is ever going to actually address and try to change these bigger social systems, because that’s a heavy and complicated topic, but providing fanon fodder to create those kinds of stories and fantasies for itself is not a worthless service either, actually.

And for folks who want to blame Blitzo for not coming himself, two things: one, Loona is and should be his priority and he isn’t wrong for that, especially given the suspicious difficulty in getting this necessary appointment (listen it COULD be Slothful negligence, but I think we all know there’s something a little more systemically classist, if not racist, about how it takes FIVE YEARS to get an appointment for a YEARLY SHOT that Loona NEEDS or she is vulnerable to a HORRIFIC DISEASE. If there are hellhound shelters, why aren’t there hellhound clinics with better supplies and this very important shot more readily available?). Two, Blitzo DOES start trying to get to Stolas. Look at the way he breaks the gear shift. Until Millie and Moxxie reassure Blitzo that they can handle this rescue mission, Blitzo is either gonna break the appointment to go handle it himself, or he’s gonna try to ram through this appointment as fast as possible to get to Stolas ASAP. He is trying. There’s so much going on. But Blitzo picks his priority, and he's absolutely right to do so. If Stolas and Blitzo ever discuss that, I doubt Stolas would ever blame him for it, even if he is still disappointed by Blitzo never showing up (necessary as it is to continue breaking these rosy glasses of his so he can more clearly see his reality).

It took me looking it up to finally realize that Striker has a different voice actor for this season. Dude does a good job; it’s close enough to Norman Reedus’ performance that I didn’t notice, but the deeper register does make him sound more dangerous. And sexy. Mustn’t forget sexy. I am fully in the camp that Stolas’ initial “Oh, shit” is because Striker giving off a sinister one-liner and crushing the phone is, in fact, hot. Not entirely negated by the fact that Stolas is finally being clued into the severity of his situation, either.

I genuinely have to wonder if cell phones in Hell are so cheaply replaced that you could probably get them from a vending machine, or if they have healing/regenerating capabilities somehow. That would be more interesting to get information on, actually, but it’s just a recurring gag, there will never be anything deeper there.

Blitzo checks in with MnM, but the fact that he both trusts them and can give them some quick instructions on where to start looking—he’s good at his job and he’s intelligent, okay, he’s SMART and I hope he KNOWS IT. His self-esteem might be in the toilet but I hope he at least knows how intelligent he is. And can we talk again about how Blitzo can spell out loud just fine? I thought maybe he just didn’t care to correct his texts (turned autocorrect off like a legend), but it’s his handwriting, too, that suffers from his horrendous spelling. Why is it that his writing spelling is bad but his spoken spelling is good? Continuity error? Funny bit? Actual medical reason?

Also. Why is titty-haver a recurring insult in this show? I can glean that it’s a flavor of sexism, but. Like. Never heard that one before. Why is it a go-to choice?? Just gonna file it along with “daddyfucker” and try to move on with my day, I guess.

Also, this scene is part of the reason why I spell it “Blitzo” and not “Blitz;” if Blitzo is constantly telling people the O is silent and Nurse Muffy here can’t find his name without that O at the end, then he clearly spells it with the O still (or he had to give his legal name when he made the appointment, but either way: the O is present even if it’s silent, and I’m still not going to hunt down that special character and train my devices to recognize it when we all know the O is silent, and this is the laziness molehill I’m dying on I guess). (I mean, besides, that slashed-O character is an actual character with an actual pronunciation, this is trying to use Cyrillic to spell out your edgy blog title with no regard for what the characters actually are or mean or sound like all over again XD)

I love that the “prick” comment is what causes Karen Fishbitch here to finally vocalize her displeasure instead of just throwing looks. That is so…White Middle Class Mom of her. To point out the most innocuous thing to get offended over. Ugh.

JOEL PEREZ DOES EXCELLENT IN THIS EPISODE OKAY. I didn’t realize he was the poncho-wearing singing imp AND the sleepy doctor but HE’S AMAZING OKAY.

Striker having a theme song that he has to beat off with a stick makes me giggle so hard. I feel like all this comedy is setting us up for something! Almost like it’s about to get really bad!

Cutting back to Blitzo, I love the little shows of optimism he still has now and then. He clearly offended this lady earlier, but he still tries to make conversation while they’re waiting. Just a decent thing to do. I do wanna talk briefly about the kid calling Blitzo a “fire-toad,” though, because that’s a new one. And given the very detailed shading on Blitzo’s frown, we know right away even before Karen says “it’s not polite to call them that to their face, honey” that what the kid just said was pretty offensive.

…and it DOES make me side-eye Ozzie calling Fizzarolli “Froggie,” just a little bit. It’s an adorable nickname. But if a slur for imps is fire-toad…it does give me some Questions. Might be a continuity error or just a terrible coincidence that I don’t think we’re gonna get any answers for (has this been brought up in a panel or anything?), and they’re different enough that I don’t think for a second Ozzie calls him that maliciously or even in a reclamation way. Fizz and Ozzie seem to have been together for long enough that if Fizz really didn’t like it, he wouldn’t tolerate it, so that’s what I’m gonna choose to trust for now.

“I am not from Wrath, bitch” THEN WHERE ARE YOU FROM. Pride is my guess, since that’s mostly where we see the circus, but watching this fish woman throw out racist comment after racist comment (and classist, too, get it all in there), it does make me wonder how many imps from other rings have to deal with the same exact thing. My guess is a lot. (And again begs the question that if imps are Wrath-native demons, how did they end up on the bottom of the totem pole? Especially when we now know Satan is a lava-bleeding brick shithouse with a hot voice??)

And gosh, look, homophobia from a bunch of biker cowboys now. This episode truly has it all!

(And, again, how hardy are imps?? Moxxie is stabbing that guy SO MANY TIMES in the background, good GRIEF—)

Nice to know that it isn’t just Blitzo who causes destruction everywhere he goes; all of IMP has that affliction :P

Stolas giving Striker so much sass is fun to watch, despite the classist undertones. “Your wife must really hate you.” “You have no idea” YEAH STOLAS GIVEN THAT THIS IS HIS SECOND MURDER ATTEMPT ON YOU SPECIFICALLY I THINK HE DOES KNOW. I would also really like to know where the giant statue with the unrealistically huge boner came from, actually. That’s a specific choice. I mean, all of his décor is, but Striker, why THAT??

The voice actor for Striker makes what I assume is a conscious decision with his voice when Striker snaps about how every ring can’t be some fancy city, when he talks about how some folks have everything they love taken away by royal demons. He’s angry, but there’s a note of…something…in his voice that I can’t find a word for. “Pleading” certainly isn’t it, “sad” maybe, “desperate” isn’t it but it’s in the neighborhood…I don’t know. It seems like he’s trying to get Stolas to understand Striker’s position, imps’ position in general. Which is odd given that he’s about to torture and kill him, and clearly doesn’t have any illusions about changing Stolas’ worldview in that time (or that it would even matter), but the slightly softer tone of voice is striking. Pun only a little bit intended. I don’t think that softness is for Stolas, but for his own loss. Which I want to know in all details now please yes. And even more than that, I want to know about the specific royal that fucked Striker over, and if they’re still out there. (Taking bets now that if it’s a royal we already know, it’s either Paimon, Andrealphus, or Vassago, simply because Vassago having a dark past element like that would be DELICIOUS.)

LET THE HURTING OF THE BIRD MAN BEGIN. I love that angelic steel has a sizzle to it when touching Stolas; really adds to the torture.

“All you royals ever do is try to talk over us!” Also specific and I don’t think to this particular situation. Striker doesn’t care that Stolas isn’t the one who fucked him over (presumably); Stolas being part of the class of demons that caused him so much hurt is enough. And this show is violent, but there’s something visceral about watching torture as opposed to Millie tearing through an entire crowd of sharks, something that hits different when watching Stolas’ blood spatter as Striker stomps on his stab wound. Stolas keeping up his fighting spirit and not begging or weeping is…complex, actually. Begging and weeping is a normal reaction, but one that audiences generally tend to read as weak (which is lame given that that’s how most of us would react tbh but we are talking about fiction I suppose), and since Stolas is meant to be a sympathetic character to us, it makes sense to skip that reaction for him. However. HOWEVER. There’s also context for why Stolas doesn’t react to physical pain in the way that Striker clearly wants him to.

The fact that he BARELY FLINCHES when he gets his FUCKING LEG SNAPPED? Hot, but also, “Blitzo handles me rougher than that in bed” I genuinely cannot tell if that’s taunting, or if he’s serious. It would not surprise me if he was serious, especially if higher-ranking demons have a healing factor (and I genuinely don’t remember if that’s fanon or canon, but the fact that Stolas and Blitzo both are surprised that Stolas can get hurt like this indicates to me that even if we don’t see a Goetia or a Sin instantly healing from a cut or anything that isn’t delivered by angelic steel, it’s a pretty solid theory to stand on). Then the stabbing into the broken leg, and “Blitzy’s knife is bigger, and hits so much deeper.” Again…making Striker angry on so many fronts and I respect the hell out of it: sexual overtones that will shortly be more explicitly shown to freak Striker out, lack of reaction to pain that Striker wants but isn’t getting, dismissing Striker entirely (and especially in favor of Blitzo, whom Striker has a little bit of a muddled past with)—this is a strong fucking reaction to torture that I fully believe only comes from prior conditioning. Now. Whether that means Stolas and Blitzo are into some very hardcore kink, Stolas is used to pain from other sources (Stella being the prime candidate), or some mixture of both…the implications of seeing a pampered prince not break under this kind of physical pressure are damn impressive for his character makeup and future arc. Physical pain is nothing to Stolas. Emotional pain, though…phew. He is not built for it. Which Striker attempts to hammer at too, starting with demeaning him, but Stolas is able to irritate him enough to buy himself some time. There’s the tear, which I believe is concession to the physical pain as well as the high emotions he’s operating under, but first round complete. Stolas is somehow holding his own despite being in a very bad place.

I also gotta question “you won’t be worth more than the tombstone you’ll be buried under” being met with “Blitzy says far dirtier things to me with much sharper objects at my throat.” Which. We don’t know if anything Stolas is saying is true (it might be), but Blitzo engaging in degradation/humiliation of that caliber and higher in bed begs some questions about Stolas’ social awareness. Questions that I’m content to let rest for now and see what the rest of season 2 brings, actually. I’ve already talked at length about how Stolas has his own internalized classism and racism that he needs to address, both for himself and for his relationship with Blitzo, so I’ll let it lie for now.

Still amazed that the same guy who voices Valentino of all bitches also voices this adorable sleepy little goat man doctor. THE RANGE. IT IS IMPRESSIVE.

Finally pausing to get a good look at Andrealphus’ Elsa Palace and…it really looks like it’s in a remote location of Pride, looking at the harsh landscape. I suppose Andrealphus just had to…Let It Go when he had this place built? :P (Let’s be real it was probably gifted to him.) Andrealphus’ existence as Stella’s brother raises SO MANY MORE questions for me, too. For a start, they’re two different birds, which I guess is okay since Paimon isn’t a bird at all and still produced Stolas (and Via is an owl rather than a swan, despite having some similar features). For another, Andrealphus has no pupils, like Stolas, and I wonder if the presence of pupils in a Goetia means something. Paimon had them, but he also has a malleable form. Stella has them, as does Octavia, but in the s2.5 trailer when we get shots of other non-bird Goetia members as well as Vassago, none of them have pupils, just solid red eyes like Stolas. In the book the Ars Goetia, Andrealphus is a marquis, ranked lower than Stolas (who is a prince); we can also assume Andrealphus is lower-ranked than Stolas because of Andrealphus listing off all of Stolas’ assets that they (he) would lose access to if Stolas were to be killed (rather than, say, stripped of and given somewhere else, since Via clearly isn’t ready to take her father’s place yet). Andrealphus having a very obvious and physical ability, though—that feels important, especially since Stella shows no such capacity.

Out of lack of ability…or lack of training? The Goetia being patriarchal is a huge possibility, though it hasn’t been outright stated yet (and it could just be coincidence based on the fact that there are way more male characters in the Hellaverse for some reason).

I love that they were just at a fancy tea place, and here Stella and Andrealphus are, drinking MORE TEA at his palace.

I’m gonna say this about Andrealphus’ treatment of Stella: while he does have absolutely flaming (icing??) homosexual energy…the things he says and the way he says them to Stella does come off as very uncomfortably close to incestuous. The more I think on it, the more I wonder if it’s Andrealphus mimicking an older family member or friend who treated Stella in a similar way to assuage her ego and keep her in line, since her temper has clearly been a problem since she was a child. “Silly minx,” “fiery vixen,” tipping her chin with a finger MULTIPLE times—absolutely YIKES behavior, especially from a clearly slimy and manipulative older brother. I suppose they could be adopted, or half-siblings, or even just with a significant age gap; we don’t know how old Andrealphus is compared to Stella. But even if his mannerisms towards her aren’t meant to imply something THAT gross, they’re still horrifically infantilizing and belittling. I don’t want to live in a world where Andrealphus is bringing a sexual element into interactions with his sister, so I will henceforth try to ignore it, but I won’t lie to you folks and say I don’t feel the discomfort or feel the vibe. (Also seems problematic to me to have a big brother character with gay-coded flamboyance also have incestuous tendencies, but the incest might be completely unintentional and just how it unfortunately came out looking. Maybe they’ll fix that in the future. Or maybe they won’t.)

Now, about Stella: she doesn’t seem afraid of Andrealphus, in fact bringing him up to Stolas as someone whose words she takes seriously. She listens to him, is guided by him, but there are some tiny hints and clues that suggest to me that Andrealphus is pretty good at corralling her, if he can’t contain her entirely. He’s fawning over her, gentle and indirect with his wording as he tries to guide Stella into a less rash course of action, until she seems to miss his point completely and then he snaps at her. Now. Does Stella actually miss his point? Or does she just not care? It seems even Andrealphus is taken aback by his own realization that Stolas’ stuff will all pass to Via. And it does not escape my notice that he calls her Via, not Octavia. Stella is unaffected by this assertion, happily living in her dream land where she doesn’t have to deal with Stolas anymore (and therefore gets to be a sexy widow and not a sexy divorcee, which might have a better social reflecting on her anyway, especially if she’s possibly going to get put back on the marriage market or even just search for a more suitable partner herself). She doesn’t care that Via will get all of his stuff. Does this mean she’s stupid and just didn’t realize it? I don’t think so. I think she’s secure in her knowledge that Via inheriting won’t budge her equilibrium. I don’t think Stella WANTS Stolas’ responsibilities and legions and powers. Andrealphus might, but Stella doesn’t. She likes to swan (lol) around being rich and pretty and throwing parties and not having an unsightly blight on her reputation like a boring husband who cheated on her with an imp and then divorced her.

Now. Andrealphus neglects to do something in this conversation that I find fascinating and may be more deeply indicative of how Stella feels about her daughter. At no point does Andrealphus admit the possibility of either manipulating/controlling Via once she gets Stolas’ position, or killing Via and inheriting that way. I don’t think this is because ANDREALPHUS gives two shits about his niece. I think it’s because STELLA might have one or two shits to give about her daughter—and Stella giving shits about something usually means screeching violence from her when threatened or insulted. I may be proved wrong in the upcoming episodes, but I think that with every horrible wretched action and word out of Stella’s mouth, it is suitably complex of her to still care in some capacity about Octavia. We DO NOT KNOW what their relationship is like, if Stella is neglectful or pushy or kind or cruel. We DO know Octavia cares about her mother, cares that Stolas doesn’t love Stella and is taking more time to fight back against her (though Via probably doesn’t see it as fighting back, just plain fighting, because I don’t think she fully understands how terrible Stella has been to him). Andrealphus not suggesting anything untoward happening to Via hints to me that he knows that would not be a productive route to take when trying to talk to Stella.

And Stella is the product of her upbringing just like Stolas: she’s been told all her life that she’s attractive and that’s her most useful quality, that she’s rich and that makes her better than everyone else, that her prettiness and richness are valuable, and hey maybe she’s stupid but at least she’s hot! Her temper is violent, and the fact that she goes to murder as a solution rather than trying to take him for everything he has in the divorce says something about her, too. If Via gets all of Stolas’ things, Stella is still going to be taken care of; she clearly expects her daughter to continue to care for her and maintain her, and if Via can’t or won’t, Andrealphus will. Wanting Stolas dead is about her pride, because how DARE he also be stuck in this boring as fuck and unhappy marriage and then try to get out of it? There is so much about Stella’s behavior that could hint at the ways she was belittled and molded into a seriously unhealthy shape by outside forces. It was her arranged marriage, too, it was her life decided for her from childhood too, it was her utility to produce an heir too. This doesn’t excuse her abuse, but guess what, abusers are also people and have complex motivations and often dark and hurtful pasts and those are important to examine too. Not because Stella’s actions aren’t her fault, but because when you have a female character in a show with a high ratio of non-female characters and she is the only living mother who gets any kind of regular screen time, you want her to have a little goddamn depth, dammit.

Exploring an abusive marriage where the wife is the abusive one is something that isn’t done enough in fiction, IMO; I don’t want apologetics for her, I want explanations. I want reasons. I want her to either be shown to be incapable of feeling conflict because of how badly she’s been screwed over and in turn has embraced her own awful behavior as a deeply maladaptive coping mechanism, or to go through some damn emotional conflict that won’t erase her mistreatment and abuse but will show that she isn’t a one-note harpy wife. Maybe she’s like this because she was made this way (and is too terrible a person to fix it which is absolutely on her but I think there’s blame to share for how she turned out this way in the first place). MAYBE I WANT STELLA TO STAB ANDREALPHUS THROUGH THE HEART WITH AN ANGELIC SPEAR WHEN HE GOES TO ATTACK STOLAS AND BLITZO LATER IN S2.5. MAYBE I WANT THAT.

ANYWAY.

“This kind of situation is extremely unique. A Goetia has never behaved like this before.” Alright I’m calling bullshit, but as I have said before, I do think the Goetia family is more than capable of covering up their scandals. Stolas being an odd duck (owl?) within his own family and thus his drama blowing up without anyone knowing it was coming because nobody bothers to check in on boring stuffy old Stolas (…still want to point out that he’s very young, especially for an immortal demon) is more likely, though.

And here we go, back to the Torturing Stolas channel, where Striker is getting tired of playing with his food and finally finds the ultimate weak point to press: Via. The fact that it makes Stolas go vengeful instead of tearful is another pillar to the STOLAS LOVES HIS DAUGHTER fact of the show. And the knife going all the way through this time makes me wonder if it’s going to have some long-term problems for him. He does have the arm bandage longer than any other bandage that we see, after all, even the broken and stabbed-up leg. I also really want to know what Stolas’ last words were trying to be. “Blitzo…will…” Blitzo will what? Come for him? Avenge him? And I love that Stolas wants his last words to be about Blitzo, not because he doesn’t love and isn’t thinking of Via, but because at this point, he’s already sworn to defend her (even if he really, really can’t), and keeping her out of the conversation is safer for her. Blitzo can handle himself. Via can’t, not against Striker. And Stolas already showed his hand by reacting so vehemently to Striker just mentioning her, so I have no doubt that if and when Striker comes back for Stolas or Blitzo in the future, Via is going to be playing some sort of role in that endeavor.

And not to drive home the point that Striker is poor AF despite being a highly successful assassin, but. Look at his flip phone. Look at the cute little charm on the flip phone. This dangerous violent man has a PHONE CHARM. What a DORK.

I also love that Stolas is so indignant at the idea of “we still need him alive to get some affairs in order.” He might just be reacting to Stella’s voice in general, now that he’s very clear that this whole thing was her doing, but. The AUDACITY of this bitch.

Who wants to bet Striker never got paid for this?

Now. The attempted eye-gouging. I’ve seen it floating around that “if you’re gonna threaten to blind a character, don’t be a coward and do it,” but. Come on. Let’s be a little practical, y’all: if they took any of Stolas’ eyes, they’d have to update the merch :P

THE FACT THAT THE IMP VAN BLASTS LA CUCARACHA. HELL YES.

Splicing the very real life-or-death battle with Striker with the still dangerous but more comedic battle of getting Loona her shot is such a good storytelling choice, actually. Cutting some of the tension while also making it that much more potent, especially as Moxxie and Millie start losing—cutting away from them right as they’re getting their asses handed to them to watch Blitzo getting HIS ass handed to him but in a less high-stakes way is maddening in the best way. Also: Striker’s face when the radio changes to something pop. Beautiful XD Damn this is a good fight scene though. Really showcases how skilled Striker is, because taking on Moxxie and Millie at the same time when they have very focused intent to kill is impressive.

…aaaaand Striker’s immediate discomfort at Moxxie’s unexpected sexual overtones wins me over again. The only sexual harassment I will allow: flustering the villain so the heroes can wreck his shit :P (Please know I am joking.) Tbh Striker has no room to talk, he is LITERALLY FUCKING DROOLING as he strangles Moxxie. This is clearly already kinda kinky for him. He just doesn’t want Moxxie to be into it (very “evil dentist from Little Shop of Horrors” of him).

I genuinely want to know how Striker keeps getting out of these situations. By all rights he should have been impaled on his own stone boner. Sigh. (And I cannot WAIT to see him come back after being burned alive; gonna be messy as HELL.)

Now here’s my question: how in the unholy heck are there so many reporters and paparazzi at the hospital already? I’m assuming Moxxie and Millie called ahead to make sure the hospital could get him taken care of ASAP as soon as they arrived, but what gossip mongers were crouched in wait for that? (Also, the doctors being plague doctor aesthetic: good stuff, very good stuff.) (IF STOLAS KEEPS CALLING THEM LITTLER ONES OR LITTLE CREATURES AFTER THIS ISNTEAD OF BY THEIR NAMES I’M RIOTING.)

And. The tail shot. And the surprise and vulnerability in Blitzo’s face and voice when he says “He can get hurt?”

BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP YOU’RE ABOUT TO FIND OUT ALL THE WAYS HE CAN GET HURT IN THE NEXT HALF OF THE SEASON.

I need a minute I am WEAK.

Nooooo twinkly pretty heartbreaking tune how DARE you make this moment where Stolas’ final hope of his fantasies playing out, even just this one time, dies even more tragic. It’s so SAD, IT’S SO SAD. IT’S SO NECESSARY BUT IT’S SO SAD. Let’s make it worse: there’s a game you can play with picking flower petals off a flower and you say “they love me, they love me not.” Whichever you say at the last petal is the universe’s answer to the question of whether or not your beloved loves you. (Please keep in mind this is horseshit as far as reflecting reality goes but it’s a pretty sort of ritual to play sometimes.) Stolas is in a hospital room surrounded by so many flowers they cover the floor. A petal falls…he loves me. Stolas gets a text from Blitzo, hoping he gets “bivver swoon.” Stolas smiles. Responds with thanks, and invites Blitzo to come see him at the hospital. Blitzo types…and never responds. A petal falls as Stolas’ smile fades. He loves me not. Stolas sets his phone down. He rolls over, and another petal falls on his phone. He loves me. Stolas nestles into his hospital bed in contemplation. A fourth petal falls…he loves me not. (Though we don’t know where that petal winds up, and it’s a “he loves me” petal that lands on his phone, so maybe????)

I’m FINE.

I’m so fine that I am going to now move on to the next episode and I don’t have to wait for my misty eyes to clear AT ALL.

[doomsayings]

Hey I’ve been reconsidering my job and was thinking about being a flight attendant too. Is it hard to become one? Would you recommend it?

Hi there anon!!! This got kind long so I put it below the cut…keep in mind I’m a US-based flight attendant

I don’t think it’s a very difficult process but it is very long….It can take a few months to up to a year, depending on the airline, from the moment of application to training to actually working. Training usually takes about 6 weeks, and I don’t think it’s hard especially if you have experience with studying/test-taking. What lots of my classmates found more difficult than anything was being away from home and being under pressure.

Which kind of leads me into whether or not I recommend it! It’s a little cliche among flight attendants to say that it’s a ~lifestyle~ but….it is! I think before even applying it’s important to think about whether or not you could be happy with the reality of the job which is that 1) you will be away from home and loved ones for long periods of time and 2) you will have an unpredictable schedule.

With most airlines, you’ll start off on reserve. That means you’ll have a period where you’ll be on call and the airline can call you to whatever trips, whenever there’s need. You won’t know your trips ahead of time or how long you’ll be away… every single airline has different reserve system, I highly suggest researching them!

Even though there’s been moments I’ve been screwed over by reserve, I still love the job deeply. It suits my personality and lifestyle a lot, I love being able split my time between cities, I love traveling, I love meeting a new crew every trip, and I actually love how much time I have off when I’m not working. It’s not a normal 9-5, so I usually have 3-4 days off on any given week. Its also extremely flexible to choose my days off, I can ask for a week off straight and get it. That being said, I’ve also had to work 6 days straight, I’ve worked red eyes, i regularly wake up at 4AM to be at the airport, I’ve had to work 16 hour long days with delays and diversions.

ALSO….research the pay. It’s kinda rough which is why many airlines are on the verge of striking.

BUT I STILL love it so much. and on the whole it works for me! I could never go back to an office job. I love my layovers and I love my benefits. But I don’t usually recommend it for like, 99% of people. Watch videos and research and see if you can imagine yourself doing it! If you have any more specific questions feel free to message me privately.

Good luck on your potential flight attendant journey!!!

[chenlezip]

.⊹˖ᯓ★. ݁₊ love at first like | a mark lee smau

005: late night talks and accidental butterflies.

it’s been about a month since you and mark signed the contract and started fake dating just to appease the internet after he ‘accidentally’ liked your post. things had been smooth, you both considered each other a friend now at least, so there’s that. it was about half 12, you were about to head to bed but saw that mark decided to facetime you. could you decline? yes.. but you wanted to see what he needed from you and so you slid the arrow to the right and picked up.

his face appeared on your screen; soft eyes that looked droopy at the late time of night, his lips jutted out in a slight pout but turned into a light smile as he saw you picked up, messy black hair like he had been running his hand through it multiple times (which yes he had done because he was nervous about phoning you but who else would pick up at this time?).

“i knew you would be awake but i didn’t think you’d answer,” his voice rung out, deeper than usual and a slight croak to it. you chuckle, “i was curious to what you wanted, you’re awake late aren’t you? you’ve got a tight schedule this week with your solo album, what’s up mark?”

it started off as a nice conversation, talked about some more ideas for fake dates that you could both try out together - maybe go visit a new place you haven’t been to, try some new foods? but it delved into a deeper more personal conversation. mark opened up about the fears he feels about falling out of love with music with how much he spends time making his own, the pressure he feels and the fear he has to let people down when he’s known as an all rounder. you never expected it, but nonetheless, you talked with him through his struggles that he outed to you.

you decide that maybe it’s best to get your feelings out too, after reassuring him, you explained the pressure you felt too. the struggles of being a female composer and lyricist in the industry that focuses too much on social media just to get big. to get somewhere, to the point you can grow big and actually have your talent noticed. it was hard, truly it was and you wished that you weren’t so invested in all of it because that would mean you had a chance of doing something else that might be better. something that was more… you? whatever l.” that meant.

and the advice that mark comes back to you with is really thoughtful, explaining how he felt that exact way but there’s people in his life that really pushed him to go for what he wanted to do, even if he doubted himself, even if he couldn’t see his talent, others did and wanted him to do great. you smile, nodding and listening to his words as you felt yourself get a bit emotional from it all. “thank you, for this mark. for listening and being such a kind soul.”

“no, no- thank you yn, for letting me have this conversation with you and for letting me open up about my troubles. i’m happy i made you comfortable enough to open up too. i think we both really needed a chat like this, a chat with someone who doesn’t really know so much about yourself, you know? and sorry if i put too much on you, by the way.” you shook your head, “you didn’t. i think i put too much on you.. but seriously, thank you mark. shit, it’s late isn’t it?”

you see him looking to the top left of his phone screen, mumbling a curse word under his breath too, “yeah.. i didn’t realise we talked for so long, i’ve gotta be up in about 2 hours.. i’ll bid you a goodnight yn, sleep well and have a good day ahead. i know im busy but just text me whenever alright?”

“mhm, same goes. goodnight mark.” and with that, the call ends and you’re just stuck staring at your phone for a little while, in shock of the conversation and why you have butterflies swimming around in your stomach. was this normal? haha, surely it was right? you just couldn’t wrap your head around why your heart beat a little faster, a little warmer too. maybe the notes app will help..

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[wildrangers]

Chance Encounter // Jake Kiszka

Jake Kiszka x fem! reader

Word Count: 3.7K

continue here

Summary: After a chance encounter at the bar, what happens when she realizes she now has to work with Jake and the guys?

Multi-part, lovers to friends to lovers tale ahead!

Warnings: Smut (oral, f receiving; penetrative sex; rough-ish sex; dirty talk; mirror play; mild praise/degradation kink)

*18+ only, smut below the cut so leave now if you're not 18*

You walked through Republic Records’ doors, heeled boots clicking on the floor. A few moments later, you were setting your work bag on the hook next to your desk in your new office. You had worked at Republic for several years but this new space was the first of your own. Stacey had been mentoring you for months at this point, preparing you to take over the day-to-day management of one of her bands.

She’d insisted on waiting until today to tell you which band you’d inherited which did nothing to help the butterflies in your stomach. Normally, day-to-day managers assisted multiple bands but given your background in social media, you’d be taking that role over, as well. It would streamline the process for the label and for you—you could really give them your full attention and get to know them as people, not just clients.

You threw on your current favorite playlist as you scrolled through your emails, waiting for Stacey to arrive for your final meeting before the handoff. Your eyes darted down to your work messaging app, a small smile lighting your face as you took in the message:

Babe, you’re going to absolutely kill this new job!! Whoever you’re managing is so lucky to have you.

Lindsey and you had worked together since the beginning of your time at Republic, both of you starting the same week in the quickly growing social media department. You had clicked immediately, bonding over your love of similar music, movies, and books. You shot back a quick thanks as someone knocked on your door, Stacey’s head soon appearing in the crack.

“Ready, Y/N?” she smiled, sitting down across from you after you’d waved her in.

“I’ll feel more ready once you finally tell me who I’m managing” you teased.

“I get it, but I really wanted to make sure you had the nitty gritty stuff down before worrying about the band-specific information, especially given how much time you’ll spend with them. I didn’t want you to go in with preconceptions.”

You nodded, understanding her logic but knowing your stomach wouldn’t settle down until she finally told you.

“We decided you and Greta Van Fleet would be a good fit, given your personality and skills along with their needs” she smiled at you and your heart leapt into your throat. You weren’t an avid listener of their music but you were familiar enough to recognize their songs if they came on the radio—you also knew they were a much higher profile band than you were expecting for your first assignment.

“Wow, Stacey, thank you. You’ve been with them since they signed here, right?”

“Don’t thank me—you’re ready and you’ve earned it. And yes, they’ve stuck with me so I’m a little protective of them. They’re really good guys and honestly, they’re who I’m going to miss the most” she sighed sadly.

Stacey had been with Republic for over a decade but she’d gotten an amazing opportunity closer to her family. With a new baby, it was a no-brainer for her to take it but you knew she’d been getting more emotional as her final day approached.

“You know I’ll do whatever I can for them” you assured her, reaching over the desk to clasp her hand in yours. She shot you a grateful look returning the squeeze.

The next couple of hours passed quickly as she went over all the necessary details—their upcoming tour schedule, the new album they were working on, what social media platforms they were on, and what their goals were. As she walked you down to the conference room where the luncheon was being held, your head was spinning a bit with all the new information. She’d given you a list of their social media handles but you hadn’t had time to actually look at them yet—you figured that would be a good place to start after your introductions.  

As you reached the door where Stacey’s going away lunch would be held, you heard laughter on the other side and for some reason it stuck out to you. You couldn’t bring a coworker to mind who it went along with but it sounded familiar for some reason.

You were torn from your thoughts as Stacey gave your shoulder a squeeze before opening the door. You smiled as you heard cheers erupt from inside. You waved at coworkers before quickly following behind Stacey as she approached who you assumed to be GVF. Stacey was hugging a smaller guy with long hair whose back was to you. You noticed three other smiling boys waiting their turn and you shot them a nervous smile and wave. Before they could respond, Stacey stepped out of the embrace and your heart dropped as the man turned around and his eyes met your own. Shit.

You were frozen in your spot a few feet away from Jake as Stacey moved to greet the other guys. Jake’s eyes were wide and his face paled as you two stared at one another for a long moment. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart as Stacey turned to introduce you to the guys, not knowing you had met one of them the previous weekend.

“Boys, this is Y/N! She’s going to be taking over my role and also growing your social media, so no more dealing with multiple people—she’s your girl now” she beamed, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m really excited to work together” you smiled at them, avoiding Jake altogether.

You moved out of Stacey’s arms as the tall curly-haired boy stuck out his hand, “I’m Danny, we’re looking forward to working with you, too.” You gripped his hand before quickly making your way down the line, meeting Sam and Josh before finally reaching Jake.

“I’m Jake, it’s nice to meet you” he said through a close-lipped smile. As his hand wrapped around yours in a friendly shake, your mind flew back to last Saturday night.

***

You were on the dance floor of your favorite spot downtown, hips swaying to the live band onstage. The last few weeks of work had been so stressful that you were desperate to lose yourself in some live music.

As their setlist wrapped, you made your way to the bar to grab a drink in-between sets. You waved the bartender over, ordering a glass of water as you settled onto the stool. Your eyes wondered the room as you waited—you’d always loved people watching and a busy bar on a Saturday night made for some solid entertainment. You thanked the bartender without taking your eyes off the couple arguing next to the dance floor. You smirked to yourself as you watched the girl wildly gesticulating with her hands as her boyfriend kept his eyes on the floor, nodding occasionally.

“Do you think she caught his eyes wondering or something more?” you heard a voice ask from nearby. You turned to see honey warm eyes staring at you intently.

You mulled it over before responding, “He tried to dance with me earlier and she was nowhere in sight so someone must’ve tipped her off to check on him here.”

The guy hummed to himself as he settled on the seat beside you. “Looks like we may get to see a break up then, huh?”

“Nah, if she was going to dump his ass she’d be gone by now” you theorized.

“Wanna make a wager on that?” he asked, smirking.

“Depends on what we’re betting.”

“They break up, you buy us a round; they leave together, I buy us a round?”

You pretended to think it over as you sipped your drink, his stare heavy on you the whole time. You set your drink down and offered him your hand, which he took with a grin.

“I’m Jake, by the way. What brings you out tonight?” he smiled at you, still gripping your hand in his.

“Y/N. Work has been crazy stressful so I just needed to blow off some steam.”

“What do you do for work?”

“This may be surprising but I work in the music industry” you joked, causing him to laugh.

“You work in the music industry in Nashville? That is shocking” he teased back. You opened your mouth to respond when you heard gasps from near the dance floor. Your head whipped around just in time to see the man from the argument holding his cheek as the girl stormed out of the bar.

“Holy shit, did she slap him and I missed it?” you asked, craning your neck to try and see.

“It sure looks like it, you rubber necker.”

You scoffed, turning back to face him, “I’m sorry, I’m the rubber necker? I recall your chat up line being bets on the outcome of their fight.”

“Fair enough, but either way you owe me a drink” he smirked as you rolled your eyes but waved the bartender over again.

The next few hours passed in a blur as conversation and alcohol flowed easily. You noticed several girls’ eyes lingered on Jake as they ordered a drink or walked to the dance floor. It made you wonder if you were missing something—these stares seemed like more than just admiring a random guy at a bar.

Finally, the band you’d been waiting for came onstage and you pulled Jake onto the dance floor. His hands quickly found your hips as you turned your back to him, singing along and swaying side to side. You covered his hands with yours, drawing them around your waist as you moved farther back into him as you danced. You felt him inhale quickly before his hips began to move with yours. You were that pleasant level of buzzed where you were still present in the moment but felt fearless in a way you never did sober.

You turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck and slotting your leg between his to grind against him further. His pupils were blown out as his gaze danced between your eyes and lips. Emboldened, you placed a light, tentative kiss to his mouth, pulling away half an inch to gauge his response. You had half a second to catch your breath before he crashed his lips into yours, hands roughly gripping your hips.

His tongue traced your bottom lip and you quickly opened your mouth further. His one hand gripping your ass while the other pressed into your back, drawing your bodies flush against one another. You were lost in the feel of him, the fevered nature of his kiss, the dizzying rush of electricity coursing through your veins. You soon felt him growing hard against you, drawing a soft moan from your lips as heat began pooling in your core. He pulled away just enough to move his lips to your neck and you quickly threw your head back to give him better access. Your eyes were shut, all your attention on the feel of his mouth and his hot, quick breaths against your skin.  

As much as you didn’t want him to stop, you also wanted to do much more than you could in a public place. You ducked your head to whisper in his ear, “Want to come back to my place?”

His eyes were half-lidded with desire as he nodded, grabbing your hand. Your apartment was only a couple of blocks away but the trip took longer than normal, the two of you pausing several times to lose yourselves in the feel of each other’s lips.

As soon as you unlocked your apartment door, you two hurtled through it, Jake slamming you back into the entryway table in his eagerness to get his hands on you again. He quickly captured your bottom lip between his, sucking roughly as your hands frantically fumbled with the bottom of his shirt, dragging it off over his head. You tried to guide him backwards towards your bedroom but he lost his footing on one of your cat’s toys, almost falling to the floor.

You tried to suppress your giggle at the panic in his eyes before he regained his balance but it was quickly cut off when his mouth was on yours again. As you crossed the threshold to your room, he quickly removed your shirt before guiding you to your bed, the back of your knees hitting your mattress seconds before you fell onto it. His hot breath tickled your collar bone as he kissed his way down to your breasts, quickly unhooking your bra so he could wrap his mouth around a nipple.

Your breath caught in your throat as he roughly kneaded your other breast before switching, repeating the motions. There was nothing gentle in his touch but you didn’t want there to be. It had been so long since you’d slept with someone and you were desperate to feel how delightfully punishing he may be inside of you. He lightly nipped your nipple causing you to look down at him, his blown-out pupils overtaking his whiskey-colored irises.

You pulled him up to you, your hands moving to unbutton his jeans and he quickly kicked them off before capturing your lips again. Your tongues fought for dominance before he pulled away, placing wet kisses and gentle nips down your body as he made his way to the waistband of your jeans.

“Okay?” he questioned, his voice rough, as his fingers found the button of your jeans. You eagerly nodded and he unzipped them. However, the sweat you’d shed from dancing for hours kept the denim stuck to your thighs and he breathed out a laugh as he fought to remove them from your body. You joined in his laughter, lifting up and wriggling your hips to assist him. He triumphantly threw them to the floor and laughter ceased as he ran his fingers down your center over the fabric of your underwear.

You leaned on your elbows to watch as he rubbed you, placing bites and kisses along your hips and thighs as he teased you. His hands were expertly dancing around the one spot you wanted them most and you whined, making him smirk. His eyes locked on yours as he tugged on the waistband of your underwear and you held his gaze as you lifted your hips for him to remove them. The intensity of his eye contact magnified the ache you felt as he ran a finger up your slit. He groaned as he felt how wet you already were and he sucked on his finger, eyes fluttering shut at your taste.

You lifted a hand to tangle in his hair desperately guiding him towards your core. “Enough teasing, please, Jake.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely” he replied, plunging two fingers into you. Your gasp at the sudden intrusion turned into a loud moan as his mouth wrapped around your clit. You had never been with a guy who knew how to use his fingers and mouth in perfect rhythm but Jake sure did. He curled his fingers slowly, another sudden intake of your breath alerting him that he had found your spot. You knew it had been a long time for you but you still felt embarrassingly close to climaxing already.

You opened your eyes to gaze down at him and you gently brushed his hair off his face to get a better look. His eyes darted up to yours and you nearly lost it as he winked before returning in earnest to your pussy. As you felt yourself tightening around his fingers, your arms gave out and you fell back fully on the mattress. You gave his hair a rough tug as your orgasm overtook you, earning a deep groan from him as he lapped you up.

He quickly moved up to meet your eyes as he offered you his two fingers, coated in your release. You moaned as you took them into your mouth, not breaking eye contact as you swirled your tongue around his fingers.

“You like to watch, huh?” he asked, his fingers still in your mouth, as you nodded. “I wish you could watch yourself cum, it was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes darted around the room before landing on the standing mirror near your bedroom door. Your gaze trailed his and you whimpered, quickly following where his thoughts had strayed. You took advantage of his distraction, slipping your hand into his boxers and wrapping your hand around him. His head dropped down to his chest as you roughly stroked him—he was already so hard against your palm and you marveled at how thick he felt.

“If you want to watch me fuck you, you better get your hands outta there” he murmured, eyes meeting yours.

“Please” you whispered and he quickly wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up before placing you on the floor.

“Get on all fours” he commanded and you eagerly did as he said, ass in the air as he dug around in your nightstand drawer for a condom. You felt suddenly shy as you met your own gaze in the mirror, taking in your flushed face and kiss-swollen mouth. You felt him settle behind you and your eyes met in the mirror as he slowly lined himself up with your entrance.

“Still okay?” he asked. As much as you appreciated him checking in, you were desperate to have him buried inside of you. Holding his gaze, you thrust your hips back, delighting at the sudden feeling of fullness. He let out a surprised gasp, pausing before grabbing your hips to slam into you fully. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you lost yourself in the brutal rhythm he immediately set.

The room filled with lewd sounds—skin on skin, wetness slapping, moans from both your mouths. Normally, you were a little more reserved your first time with someone but you didn’t feel that was necessary with Jake. “God, you fill my cunt so fucking good” you ground out, eyes opening to meet his in the mirror. He smirked at your foul language, understanding exactly what you wanted from him.

“Yeah? You like having my cock buried in your pussy, you little slut?”

You let out a loud moan at his words, your fingers reaching up to circle your clit. “God, yes please don’t stop” you begged.

“I won’t on one condition, pretty girl” he said, his hands tangling in your hair.

“Anything” you let out, body tensed and ready for whatever he asked next. You let out a gasp as he yanked your hair, pulling your back flush to his chest as he kept fucking you roughly.

“When you’re about to cum, I want you to watch yourself. Can you do that for me?”

You quickly nodded, your fingers picking up speed as you felt him lose his rhythm slightly—you knew you were both so, so close.

“Such a good little whore” he breathed into your ear and your climax crashed through you at his words. Your eyes shot open as you met your gaze in the mirror and the sight only added to the intensity of your pleasure. You screamed his name as your legs gave out, his arm quickly wrapping around your waist to keep you upright. As you felt yourself coming down from your high, your eyes moved up to meet his again. His face gleamed with sweat and strands of his hair were plastered to his temples—he looked so fucking beautiful.

“Your turn” you whispered, wrapping your arm around the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “I guess I’m not the only one who likes to watch, huh?” you teased, earning a whine from him as he dropped his chin to your shoulder, clearly fighting to keep his eyes on you in the mirror.

“Cum for me” you commanded him and his mouth dropped open as his hips slammed into you one final time, frantic groans filling your ears. You rolled your hips back into him and he bit down on your shoulder to hold in his shout of pleasure. You two stayed like that for a moment, his forehead now resting on your shoulder as you both caught your breath.

“Fuck” he breathed shakily as he pulled out of you. He gently placed his hands on your hips, guiding you to the carpet so you wouldn’t fall as he stood up. While he cleaned himself up, you simply laid on the floor, slowly feeling yourself come back into your body.

You heard him clear his throat and you sat up to see what he needed. “Where do you have a washcloth?” he asked, leaning against the doorway to your bathroom. Your heart warmed at the implied offer but you shook your head.

“I appreciate it but I’ll just jump in a shower once you’re gone.”

He seemed to recoil at your words and you knew he caught on to what you meant: that this would be a one-time thing, nothing remotely serious. Even though the sex had been amazing, you knew better than to think a one-night stand could lead to some kind of worthwhile romance.

 “Oh, um, sure” he mumbled, fumbling around your room to pick up the layers of clothing he’d shed.

“It’s nothing personal, really, that was fucking incredible. We both just know this was a one-time thing, so why drag it out, you know?”

“Sure, I get it. I’ll be traveling soon anyway” he shrugged, but his eyes wouldn’t meet yours and your heart deflated a little. You shook your head at the sensation, standing up to pull on your underwear—you suddenly felt very exposed as he quickly dressed himself. Just as you pulled your baggy sleep tee over your head, Jake nodded your way and quickly left. You heard the front door shut quietly and you made your way out to the living room to lock it behind him, ignoring the sad, sinking in your gut. 

***

“Great to meet you too, Jake” you forced a smile, thoughts racing faster than you could catch them.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed, please let me know your thoughts or if you have any feedback :)

[raggaraddy]

Tae’s first time with a virgin if your still taking requests?

Virgin

A/n: Thank you for the request! It was fun to write. Enjoy xx 💜💜💜

Trigger warning: Smut, first time, oral, D/s themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic, dirty talk, mild spanking.

Taehyung

Dom!Taehyung

You pull out your phone and type the message. Over and over. Deleting it and re-writing it about 30 times.

Until you see the typing bubble pop up on Taehyung's side.

If you have something to say, get it out. He writes.

Damn. You really should have written this on paper first. But too late now.

You had spoken with Taehyung for months and had met him in person for the first time last week. With clever wording, so far you'd gotten around telling him your secret. But you know you have to tell him before your first play session tonight. You don't know if a guy can tell or not, but if he can it's going to be embarrassing if he finds out that way.

It's not like you haven't done things before, you were probably more experienced than most when it came to other areas. You've played with other kinky people before, hooked up with girl friends and guy friends, and you've had a full D/s relationship that was filled with BDSM. It's just that you'd never done that one thing.

Really, you don't even know why you held onto it for so long. At first, you were trying to be smart and not give it away too quickly or easily, but then it almost became something you had a sense of pride in and tried to protect. But Taehyung was special. Someone you felt connected to. And you know, it's time to get it over with. Both telling him and the act itself. You have to simply rip the bandaid off and tell him. He shouldn't be mad. You didn't exactly lie about anything.

Its just about tonght :)

Please don't be mad. I ddnt know how to say it before

But you should probably knwo I'm a virgin

Three separate messages. Typed so quickly they're riddled with spelling and grammar errors. The words are not nearly as well prepared as you had wanted. But at least it was done.

The read symbol appears, and then nothing. Staring at your phone for what feels like 5 minutes, there is no reply. You're running over a dozen new messages, typing them in your head first. Wanting to explain that you didn't lie and that everything you told him, you really had done.

Typing the first word, his answer finally comes through. Only 3 words that make you relieved but also anxious from their conciseness.

See you tonight.

After spending hours getting ready, it was finally time to meet him. You came to his house and were perfectly on time. Although, you had a moment of concern thinking you were at the wrong address. When Taehyung said he had a big apartment you hadn't expected it to be a 2 story, riverside, penthouse in the middle of the city. He never wanted to tell you anything about his job, and now you were a little worried he's someone famous or that he runs a drug cartel or something.

Feeling a bit out of place and with the upcoming plans looming ahead of you, you start the night filled with nerves. However, Taehyung's confident demeanour as well as some casual conversation and a few drinks, eventually help you start to relax. And soon you're even beginning to get a little impatient.

A mix of anticipation of what is to come, steadily becoming tipsy, and having not touched yourself for a week, your mind is already running with all manner of dirty thoughts. But unfortunately, you're far too shy to initiate anything so you are entirely dependant on Taehyung's schedule. And he is taking it slow.

Normally, he would have a girl naked and on her knees by this time, but you were special to him, also. And especially now knowing that you're a virgin, he is determined to make the night last. Sat on the couch with him, there are small touches here and there, provocative topics of conversation, and his commanding tone of voice that makes you melt. Your excitement peaking as he passionately kisses you, pulling you onto his lap.

Nearing 2 hours of talking and teasing, Taehyung finally starts the main event. Taking you with him into the most stunning playroom you have ever witnessed. An industrial meets a minimalistic-modern theme. A beautiful king four-poster bed, with an x-frame top, a wooden headboard, and a white canopy. Making you think that this must be where princesses who liked to get spanked come to play.

Never parting his lips from yours, slowly and gently Taehyung undresses you. His delicate removal of your clothes and his tender kisses are in explicit contrast to the sharp, rough tugs on your hair that he uses to move you around. The combination making your skin burn with lust.

Sitting you in the middle of the bed, he remains fully clothed. A prickle of excited nerves shivering up your body. You're beyond needy and ready. Your hands starting to pull at his shirt, unable to refrain yourself any longer.

"Please," you whine. As his mouth comes off yours, you pull him into you a little firmer.

"What do you want?" Taehyung asks. His voice coming out deep and lowly spoken.

"I want," you gulp trying to think of what to say. Your face heating. "you?"

"That wasn't convincing." He moves forward, his hand pressing to your chest, pushing you flat onto the bed. "I asked you," Leaning over, his mouth comes to your breast, sucking your nipple. Your gasps turning to moans as he bites down before repeating himself. "What do you want?"

"Whatever you want, Sir." Your hands cling into the blankets trying to stop yourself from digging them into his perfect dark hair instead.

Looking up he smirks. "Mmm, when you call me that," he grabs your wrist, bringing it to his crotch. Pressing your open palm to the hard bulge straining in his pants. "it really turns me on."

You whine as he pulls your hand away. You'd been fantasizing for weeks about what he must feel like and now you were so close to having what you dreamt of.

"Don't worry about me, Y/n. I'm going to get what I want. But what I want right now," his hand suddenly cups your pussy making you gasp, "is for you- my horny, wet, little virgin," instinctually you spread your legs wider and his middle finger presses deeper, slipping between your folds making you wail. "to tell me what you want."

"Anything," You're trying to make yourself say more, but your mind is swimming and you're glowing with embarrassment thinking about actually saying what you want him to do to you. His piercing stare, his beauty, his hard cock, you're aching to have him. He knows what you want. It's not fair for him to make you ask for it.

"Y/n," your eyes lift to his face upon hearing his rumbling voice call your name. "Have I given you the impression that I tell you to do something so I can hear my own voice?"

Your eyes get big as you chew your lip, shaking your head. Even his light scolding is turning you on.

"Good. Then I'll ask you one last time, and if you make me ask you again, I'm going to put your panties back on, and they won't be coming off again tonight." he purrs making you whimper at his threat. "I was going to accept your little two-word answer, but now you've made me ask you multiple times, so you'll tell me in detail. What do you want me to do to you, little girl?"

You feel like curling under the blanket from shame, but you start to push the answer out. "I want... you... to," you swallow looking down, "fuck me." You can see his eyebrow raise, telling you to go on and give him the specifics like he asked. "I want to have you inside me, Sir. I want," you're thinking of the next words while feeling near to tears from discomfort. Unable to even glance at his face. "I want you to be the first man to fuck me." It's nearly inaudible by the end of the sentence, but you get it out. Hoping it's enough to make him happy.

Finally building the courage to look up, Taehyung is brimming with satisfaction and hunger. Looking ready to devour you.

His fingers gently hold your chin, lifting your head a little higher to meet him as he hovers over you. "Thank you, Y/n." He says softly, making your stomach swarm with butterflies. His warm reaction has you even more confident in your choice. "Put your arms above your head, and interlock your fingers." He instructs hushedly.

Too eager to follow his order your arms stretch above you, knocking into the headboard making your wrists bend. Holding your hips, Taehyung yanks you down the bed giving you the space to hold your arms out straight.

Pressing down on your wrists his face softly becomes more serious "You're not going to move your hands at all until I say. Not in any direction. Do you understand?"

With a little smile, you nod. Already having fun. "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," he praises making you blush for what is surely the 100th time tonight.

He releases your hands and you push them down making sure to follow his order.

Slowly Taehyung shifts down your body, his fingertips lightly tracing down your arms and your sides, making you flinch and squirm. Fighting through being ticklish to hold still and keep your position.

Setting between your legs he continues to play with you. Your eyes clenching shut as his touch runs down your neck, your chest and stomach, gripping your thighs, tracing your lips. His fingers softly pinching your nipples producing a moan, your hips bucking up as your breathing deepens.

Moving lower still, Taehyung pushes your thighs wider. Lifting one of your legs he has you bend it upright, kissing from your knee down your thigh. Trailing lower until his lips touch your core making you bite your lip to stop from crying out. Needing to bite back even more vocal cries as his tongue flicks out, kneading against your clit. Starting to suck and lick you. Your legs spreading further on their own accord. Quickly losing your senses to pleasure.

His nearly painful grip on your hips jerks you down, pulling you into his tongue as it dives inside you making you cry out. Instinctually, your hands want to cling onto him and lift an inch from the mattress. Quick realization making you panic and slam them back flat.

Soon you're fussing, calling out his name as the flat of his tongue strokes you, eating you like a man starved. His long fingers deep inside you, massaging you in the same insisting manner. Pushing you to the edge without pause. Cumming with a yelp you bite your cheek in lieu of your arm. Your orgasm not stopping him, instead, he spreads your legs further lapping up all of the juice you spill. And just when you can't stand anymore and your body is starting to shake, he finally springs up smacking his lips with a satisfied open mouth grin. Wiping your cum from his face.

Flopping onto the bed alongside you, he rests over you again, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself. Leaving you breathless when he finally parts.

"How are you doing?" He asks, his mindlessly touch once more trailing along your skin. "Good?" he presses for confirmation.

"Yes," you giggle, feeling lightheaded in the afterglow. Wanting to touch him back you, accidentally lift your arms off the mattress again. "Oh," You gasp, settling them back.

Raising up, he leans on his elbow. Digging into your joint hands, he clicks his tongue. "How many times did you lift your arms? Hmm?"

"Um," You feel like your cheeks burning under his inquisitive gaze. In truth, you hadn't counted. But you think at least 7 times. "Seven," you whisper.

"And how many times did I say you could move them?"

Your mind races for a moment trying to remember exactly what he said. You don't remember him saying a number though. And you realize it's a trick question. "None?" you squeak.

"That's right." He hums.

Sitting upright, he abruptly sticks his hands under you, flipping you onto your stomach in forceful motions. Trying to not break position, you stay straight keeping your arms flat to the bed. With a last tug, Taehyung pulls you onto your knees, your elongated arms and aching your back makes your face burry into the mattress.

"Seven," He says. His large open palm smacking your ass harshly. He doesn't count down the rest, but in your own head, you do. Each stinging slap only worsening your hunger.

But it doesn't matter how desperate you are, Taehyung isn't nearly done with you. Over the next 90 minutes, he touches and toys with you. You come serval times from his hands, his tongue, from toys, and even once from your own hand as he makes you get yourself off.

As the events go on, he gradually undresses. His own needs getting dire, he also cums, letting you suck him off and swallow his load. But soon after he is hard again. Getting too much enjoyment from teasing you with his cock, seeing you become a mess. And no matter how many times you cum, it is the part you want the most. At last, though, he addresses your needful craving.

Putting you on your back, you can see the switch in his eyes and the intent behind it. Laying over you and resting on his elbows, he lines up with your entrance. Your body almost shaking with expectation.

"What do you want little girl?" he repeats, his own breath strained with desire.

You no longer have any apprehension about saying it. You've never wanted anything, anyone, inside you more than you want Taehyung right now. "Please fuck me, Sir." you pant, tilting your hips up, your motion rubbing his tip through your dripping folds.

This time it's Taehyung whose exterior cracks. Dipping in your warm opening makes him groan. His jaw tensing, he has to restrain himself from slamming his dick inside you. He wants to do it. He wants to make you scream and writhe, and take his dick all at once. But he knows he can't be cruel. He knows he has overcome his baser instincts and be patient.

Pressing his lips to yours, slowly, carefully, he starts to edge his hips forward. His cock sinking inside you. Inch by inch. Allowing you the time and space to adjust to him. And you're grateful for it. He's stretching you and the deeper he goes the further you're being spread. The size of him, his thickness is larger than any vibrator you've used before. Or anything else you've had inside you.

Breathing lightly, shortly, your hands are clinging to the blanket. Your eyes fluttering closed. Feeling him fill you is beyond your wildest imaginations, and right now you wish it would never end.

"Fuck," Taehyung whispers, his entire dick buried inside you. Your virgin walls tightly constricting and twitching around him. With a few heavy breathes, he calms himself. "How does that feel Y/n?" He asks, half teasing you, half genuinely checking on your well-being.

Words have left you. Your mind is delirious. You can only whine and nod stiffly. Your hands wrapping his back draw his body against yours. Mutly begging for him to continue.

He gets your meaning and is all too happy to oblige. Keeping a slow, steady pace, he lifts his hips. The rubbing making you fevered. And when he sinks into you again, he sets up an even pace of long deep strokes. Rocking into your over and over and it isn't long before any hint of pain is replaced with pure euphoria. Your legs shaking and shivering.

"Such a good girl." He moans into your lips. "You're taking my dick so well," Starting to pick up the pace, your moans come out more unrestrained. A kind of vibrating static filling your brain.

As his thrusts become more empowered, the low ache returns. Hurting just enough that it's helping the incredible sensation build. After several minutes, one of Taehyung's hands lowers to your clit. The external pressure causing electricity. Enhancing the pleasure inside. Quickly the combination overwhelms you and you can feel pleasure in your core unlike any other. As if every single cell in your body were crying out in joy, you lift and fall, exploding in ecstasy. The sensation turning your stomach, aching the back of your jaw from how hard it hits you. Taehyung's tongue filling your mouth, he swallows the breathless screams of your orgasm.

"Oh god, Y/n, you feel so good." Taehyung groans, his thrusts not slowing any. Your body floating, your mind ringing in orgasmic relief.

The pulsing inside you seems to last for an eternity. And even after it fades your oversensitive body is still quivering from his unrelenting motions. You're exhausted and wrecked and now that you've cum, his size is starting to make you sore.

"Did that feel good?" He purrs. Your moans of pleasure turning into whimpers as his pace begins to pick up. Pushing on his chest a little, you're breathing too hard to vocalize your thoughts. But Taehyung can read your actions.

"You can take a little more, cant you, baby?" He coos, pressing deep and holding it, grinding his hips down. Making you squeal in pleasurable pain. "You wanna make me feel good don't you?"

He stops moving, pulling back a little to give you space to breathe and to hear him clearly. You nearly sigh in relief. The tip of him was pressing too far. Your eyes open as his hand comes to your face, making you look at him.

"Can you be a big girl for me while I fuck you?" he kisses you lightly, sucking your bottom lip. "Do you wanna be a good little girl and let me use you, let me fill you with cum?"

Even with your body depleted, you don't need to think twice. You want all of that. You want him to cum inside you. You want to make him happy, whatever it takes. Not looking away from his eyes you nod. A little scared, but mostly turned on and excited at the idea of him using you to get himself off.

Closed lipped, his mouth lifts into a smirk. His eyes getting prideful at your agreement.

Easing into you, his breath becomes shaky. Again he bottoms out inside you and you whine in pain. With your approval given he isn't waiting on a slow build this time. He's rock hard and your warm wet cunt is driving him crazy. He knows it's going to hurt you. But he also knows you won't need to endure for very long. He is already nearly ready to burst.

Quickly his thrusts get faster and rougher. Extending his arms he raises up and lifts one of your legs for leverage. His chest pushing down on the back of your thigh spreads you deeper and shoves him even further inside you.

You can't contain yourself at that point. Crying out with every thrust. Your skin is covered in goosebumps. You can tell he is still restraining himself, but it's easily too much. You're drained and tender. And he's too big and rough for you to handle.

But despite your discomfort, you force yourself to stay still. Repeating a mantra over and over in your head that you want to be good for him.

Sweating lightly, Taehyung is pounding you until all of sudden, with a final solid snap of his hips, his movements faltering. A chesty moan pouring out of him as his body falls heavier into you. Your raw sensitive walls twitching as they are flooded with warmth. Several small jerking thursts pumping all of his cum into you before he drops his weight.

Letting your thigh drop back down, he rests on his elbows on either side of your head, his heavy breath fanning your face. Lightly brushing his lips to yours he kisses you through a smile.

"Such a brave girl." He mutters.

You're so tender that he has you mewling even as he pulls out of you. The movement makes you wince.

Gasping, you're surprised you can actually feel his cum shifting. It feels like it's going to run out of you. Clamping your thighs shut, your face glows again with embarrassment. You're not sure if that is supposed to happen. You thought it would stay inside. But in any case, you don't want to make a mess on his bed.

With a last satisfied grunt, he drops onto his side, leaning on his arm while still hovering above you.

"I'm so proud of you. You did so well." He smiles warmly, brushing your hair off your face, wiping away your sweat. "How do you feel?"

How do you feel? Sore, exhausted, thoroughly use, but mostly,

"Good," You grin sleepily, leaning into his touch.

"Good." He whispers back.

Shuffling a little higher, he pulls a pillow down and nudges it under your head. His arm going under your neck he wraps his other arm around you, hugging you. As you roll to your side and cuddle into him, he takes the hint and draws you in tighter. His hands rubbing up and down your back softly.

"I had a really nice time tonight Y/n." He kisses the top of your head, his chest tightening against you. "Thank you for letting me be your first."

[unoriginalmess]

A Second Mask: Chapter 4

Did that just happen?

Hello guys! It's me. I'm finally writing again. Sorry about the delay. I'm going to explain more at the end of the chapter, but I'm just going to keep the beginning short. So here is chapter 4:

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

To say Adrien was concerned would be a huge understatement. He was downright disturbed. Its been weeks and still Marinette hadn't changed back to the happy, peppy, nice girl that he knew. AND SHE WOULDN'T EVEN TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT!

He tried to talk to her for a whole week after her original trasformation, but after the repeated firm rejections, he stopped altogether. He figured that maybe with some space, she might be able to work through whatever she was going through, but at this point, he's losing hope.

When he is feeling this distressed about something, he usually turns to his lady, but she has been acting weird too. Ever since she suggested they start sparring, she's started to show that she is going through kinda a rough time as well. She is the same ladybug when everyone is watching, but when it's just the two of them, she looks sad and tired. She has also started saying some concerning things while they are sparring. She has started talking about how she has started taking being Ladybug and the Guardian more seriously, and how she has less distractions now, which would be a good thing if she didn't say them so sadly.

The good thing is, the sparring has given him a chance to get out his aggression because of the whole Marinette-situation and his anger at his father in a safe environment. He didn't like the idea of hitting Ladybug at first (especially in the face) but with her not holding back on her hits, he felt more comfortable doing the same. It has helped them fight better too. He hopes that whatever Ladybug is going through in her civillian life will work itself out soon, but until then he will be there for her. He just needs to figure out how to be there for Marinette.

•••

Felix was making good progress with Marinette. After they first asked marinette about (insert fashion question of your choice here, I legit know nothing and I didn't have time to research anything for this chapter), she had started answering their questions on a daily basis. After a couple of days of that, she had started to rant to them about different things in the fashion world that were bothering her, exciting her, or confusing her that particular day. In response to that, they had started to respond to her rants with their own opinions on the subjects and even start their own rants.

It had gotten to the point where Felix would now consider them to be friends, though they know that Marinette would never call them as such, it was fine with them. They know she has trust issues, and they can understand why, so they are fine with being friends in everything but a name.

Felix was looking forward to their daily banter as they waited in their seat for Marinette to arrive. When she did, she was followed by a very pissed-looking Alya. Felix turned to look at her and noticed that she had what looked to be tears forming in her eyes. What they didn't notice was the little black butterfly that had entered through the window in the back of the room, and was making a beeline towards her.

•••

Marinette walked to school in yet another one of her newest fashion creations: a pair of oversized grey ripped jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt. She was actually really liking her new look, and the comfort that it offered was just an added plus.

She was actually feeling excited to talk to Felix about Gabriel Agreste's newest fashion flop. They were the only person that she had met that actually cared about fashion as much as her. It made her happy to talk to them. It kind of scared her how excited she was. Shouldn't she be distancing herself from everyone? she thought to herself. No. Felix isn't my friend, they aren't close to me, they are just someone I talk fashion with. Like a coworker, yeah. Totally. Felix is just a coworker. ("Liar" says the inner voice in her head)

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she was pulled to the side by someone as she entered the courtyard. Her mind immediately thought of an akuma, when the person spoke.

"Marinette! Girl," Oh it's just Alya. Wait Alya? "How long are you gonna keep up this cry for attention? Are you really THAT jealous of Lila? I know that Adrien likes her, but that doesn't give you the right to act like this! And you are hanging out with Felix, who accused her of sexually harrassing Adrien on their first day here-?" She looked absolutely furious at her, but Marinette had heard enough. She cut Alya off in the middle of her presumably long rant.

"ALYA!" Said girl jumped at both the inturruption and the tone of voice used, "First of all, this isn't a cry for attention, if anything its a cry for leaving me the fuck alone. Second of all, I'm not jealous of Lila. I'm not in love with Adrien anymore, and haven't been for a while. You knew that I was dating Luka right? Why would I care who Adrien likes? Lastly, I am allowed to hang out with whoever I choose, whether you like them or not. It's none of your fucking business Alya, and if you think that I'm just some jealous, attention-seeker why do you even care?" With that last question she stormed off to the classroom, leaving a speechless Alya behind her.

When marinette sat down in her seat, she just kept thinking about how Alya was just talking to her. How could she think that about her? They used to be best friends, and Alya wasn't even concerned about her not talking to her anymore, she was just concerned about her being "jealous of Lila". It made her so furious that she could feel tears trickling down her face. She sees the black butterfly out of the corner of her eye and without hesitation grabs it out of the air.

(Next part is taken from this post by @bigfatbreak)

"Go ahead and akumatize me- See what happens, Hawkmoth!" She screamed the words with a slight madness that the energy of the akuma was giving her, "Every leash has two ends! I just have to pull until I find where you're holding it!"

At this point, the entire class was frozen in place watching her and listening to her crazed-sounding voice threaten an actual terrorist. Marinette felt Hawkmoth's confusion and terror through the bond. What in the- She's sensing me through the Akuma?! The akuma then started to fly away, and when it couldn't it zapped her hand like it was made of lightning and fluttered through the same window it came from. Marinette felt like she had failed yet again and collapsed down on her desk, muttering, "Uuuuggghh. It escaped anyway... What a waste. I didn't realize that Hawkmoth was such a coward. He usually likes grandstand..."

She was startled when her hand was picked up by Felix's, "You likely scared him off by managing to locate him like that... A risky move, I should mention. I would ask that you not attempt that a second time. No one knows what his akuma is truly capable of. You'll want to keep off of this hand for a while, too."

"Oh, are those the doctor's orders? Why, Felix, it almost sounds like you care about meeee." Marinette was all too amused by Felix's concern for her. She also liked to tease them... AS COWORKERS DO.

"I have an investment in your presence. Now don't be cheeky and let's get you to the nurse's office," They said while holding her wrist and gently pulling her in that direction.

Marinette scoffed, "'An investment in my presence'??"

Felix chuckled while still semi-dragging her by the wrist towards the front of the room, being careful not to hurt her injury even worse, "What did I just say about being cheeky?"

On their way out of the door they passed a VERY distressed-looking Adrien. He seemed to be sharing the sentiment with the entire class of: Did that just happen?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

And thats chapter 4. It is VERY LATE! I know. I've been swamped with work, and when I went to write it, I had zero ideas on how to write this chapter. I never ended up getting those ideas. I just went where my writing took me, so if it doesn't really match the characters that's why. I will try to be better at updating regularly, but it probably won't happen. Sorry to everyone with a normal sleep schedule, but this is the time that I write things. Also I didn't have my outline with me while writing this chapter, so it might not have everything I planned to write in it.

I would like to thank you all for all of the support I've been getting on this fic. Despite all of the chapter delays, you guys have stuck with me through all of it, so thank each and every one of you. I love seeing so many people loving this au as much as I do. Without you guys this story wouldn't exist, and I would've stopped writing it after the first chapter.

As always, constructive criticism is always accepted. I love being able to improve my writing whenever possible.

Thank you for reading. Have a nice day/night/whenever you are reading this. See ya next time guys, gals, and non-binary pals.

Taglist

@queer-illusion @apasponsor @heckinggremlin @1-ahiro-1 @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @sassakitty @lennauts @rianoel @dorkus-minimus @khneltea @welp-that-was-unexpected @mlnchlymrshmllw @lovelyautumnsunflower @chariphrasis @lovesbooks @komatsuna-yuki @polyvirnl @innocentlyguiltyfrenchfry @qhobias @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @hammalammadamdam @cloudydaysomewhere @alcoholic-barney @basenikon @xxbehindthemaskxx @corporeal-terrestrial @shadowymemoirs @moonlight-densetsuu

[inkmemes]

young  royals  (  2021  )  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  netflix’s  swedish  ya  drama.  non-contextual  spoilers.  trigger  warning  for  mentions  of  sexual  activity,  drugs,  alcohol,  death,  implied  internalised  homophobia,  bullying.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“at least you can stay for a cup of coffee?”

“hey, wait up. did you sleep together?” 

“he's probably making out with someone. forget it.”

“i can't take it anymore.”

“what are you doing?”

“and he had to finish your sentence. what's going on? you like him.”

“every time you see your dad, you get all depressed.”

“you're still here, so obviously you must want something.”

“are you high? what the hell are you on?”

“does this make you horny?” 

“i like [town name], but i don't want to live here forever.”

“you can leave now. go home. i'm staying here for the weekend.”

“do you want chocolate?”

“how do you feel?” 

“it's kind of hard to tell them apart, you know.” 

“you're a worthless drunk.”

“you … you need to figure out what you want. and you can take all the time you need. and i respect that. but you have to do it by yourself. i don't want to be anyone's secret.”

“you have to stop pretending that you're not afraid.”

“that's the thing, i just don't want that.”

“it's something new. something fresh.”

“can we talk privately for a minute?” 

“and if anyone gives you a hard time, you know, just let me know, and i'll take care of it.” 

“you do know you don't need to hide?” 

“are you gonna let us in?”

“promise to let me know if there's anything i can do.”

“hey, we won't go blind from your moonshine, right?”

“i'm just getting a good vibe. that's all.”

“you're so fucking pathetic.”

“you realize that this will have consequences?”

“he's such a fucking idiot.”

“i wanted us to have a few minutes alone.”

“when you're young, love feels like the most important thing in the world.” 

“i really like you.”

“felt like i had to rescue you from that situation.”

“it got so damn hot in there, i thought i'd get some fresh air.”

“you are allowed your own opinions. it's cool.”

“i've seen the way you look at each other.”

“here, this one is a little big for me, but i think it'll look great on you.”

“do you think royal dick is different than regular?”

“you're the only one here i feel i can actually talk to.” 

“i haven't heard anything yet, but i'll tell you as soon as i do.”

“you can't just lie here jerking off.”

“i don't want to go to some fucking boarding school!”

“i've missed this place so much.”

“are you going to horror movie night on friday?”

“but i like you. and that is not fake.”

“you don't need to share everything.”

“we should go to a concert again sometime.”

“you're fucking crazy!”

“where have you been? i've been trying to reach you.”

“just don't use the school's wi-fi for porn surfing. could be embarrassing.”

“but no matter what, they can't dictate what you say.”

“sorry about last night.”

“i don't want to talk to you!”

“i don't wanna sound like an idiot.”

“i was thinking, would you like to have a sleepover at my place? because that's something friends do. it's going to be really cozy.”

“i think maybe we should forget about that.”

“you can't really see that it is you.”

“i mean, it could be anyone. it's so fucking stupid.”

“i don't want to say anything.” 

“now you're doing it again. you're trying to take care of me.” 

“i can take it, it's okay.”

“that's not true. i haven't spoken to my parents.”

“we haven't done anything wrong.”

“you're beautiful! you're so beautiful.”

“i'm gay, [name].”

“seriously? what the fuck is your problem?”

“you keep letting people piss on you!”

“i just assumed you didn't want special treatment.”

“keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“so you thought you'd start spreading false rumours without having any proof?” 

“i just didn't want to lose you.”

“uh, there's pizza left if you want some.”

“everybody thinks you're perfect. you know that, right?”

“he's just been outed.”

“i'm going to fuck this up.”

“he bloody ruined my fucking life!”

“why are you sitting in your room sulking when you have a crush to hang out with?”

“hi. sorry, i was feeling a bit better. so i thought it was okay that i hung out with some friends.”

"everyone should be allowed to live as gay or straight or whatever they want.”

“i woke up in my own bed. that's always something.”

“could i just have one second? just one second alone, please?”

“i’m sorry. but it was, like, the only way.”

“i thought, everyone deserves a second chance.”

“i'm sorry about the mess. i wasn't expecting such distinguished company.”

“i just don't want you to be treated badly again.”

“oh, fuck.”

“you don't even… aren't you even gonna answer me?”

“i didn't know that one was supposed to sign up.”

“in real life, you don't pay to get ahead.”

“and what the fuck does your dad do?”

“let's try to have some table manners.”

“it's, like, really serious.”

“who the hell can live like this for three fucking years?”

“that's what happens when you buy the cheap ones.”

“i need your help with something. ”

“being a prince is not a punishment, but a privilege.”

“it's awesome to just chill out.”

“or maybe he lied about that too. what do i know?”

“you have to give people a chance.”

“you have to try to see it from my perspective.” 

“what the hell's this?”

“what happened to "we should forget about it"?”

“stop being so fucking stubborn and try to understand my situation.”

“sometimes it's better not to say everything.” 

“i was just bored.”

“have you ever had a boyfriend?”

“sometimes it's better to keep quiet.”

“can i get you some coffee?”

“nobody else cares about these things.”

“i lost track of time.”

“everybody does the same things and everybody knows everybody.”

“thanks for rescuing me yesterday.”

“remember when he came up to us the first week and was like, "what's up?"”

“i need you to delete all our texts.”

“i can't keep doing this anymore.”

“are you gonna let them go on with their bullshit?”

“i want to be with you.”

“here's a blanket, a pillow, and bed sheets. there you go.”

“okay, yeah. you don't seem to have grasped what i'm trying to say.”

“it's usually boring as hell.”

“he's been dealing to us for months.”

“i don't want to talk to him.”

“don't you wanna date [name] anymore?”

“i don't know why he's started texting me again. he knows i don't want anything to do with him.” 

“yeah, we had a shitload of drugs.”

“we could murder someone, and nobody would say a word.”

“she needs some fun.”

“he's just doing it to fuck with me.”

“it's such a weird question.”

“i just wanted to say hi. i don't believe we've met. ”

“but i still want us to be friends.”

“if i were to stay here… would you… like to keep me company? just you and me.”

“everything's, like, upside down now.”

“have you always lived here?”

“damn it. sorry. shit. i completely forgot.”

“i'm sure someone has a story to tell.”

“you've got to put yourself first. i mean, no matter what he thinks about it.”

“come on! you can't just sit there stuck in your room.”

“you can snuggle up in my safe arms if it gets scary.”

“i want to live a normal life.”

“let me have a look. you can hardly see it.”

“any other dick that's been sucked?”

“you just expect everything to be on your terms.”

“i want to know everything!”

“you don't have to go there. i'll take care of myself.”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” 

“i'll just stay in and go to bed early.”

“thanks for explaining the schedule.”

“i'd rather die.”

“i don't want you to be mad.”

“promise to tell me if something is wrong.”

“i can't be dressed like this if you're dressed like that.” 

“it's really complicated.”

“it feels like you don't care what people think about you, or if you have a lot of friends and stuff.” 

“nobody asked you to come. feel free to leave if you want.”

“well, nobody has ever, ever asked for this!” 

“there isn't so much to do around here.”

“you've become such a snob.”

“i know you're only trying to help me.” 

“do you like it here?”

“i don't wanna go in there. we're not even invited. fuck this.”

“don't you think it's weird [name] invited us to come?”

“if they hadn't been here, would you've, uh, made out with me?”

“so, you're an actual proper couple now?”

“you're thinking about someone else.”

“you're right. we're doing this together.”

“thanks… for nothing.”

“why are you even so obsessed with him?”

“i want you to hold me.”

“call me when you want to be picked up.”

“what the fuck do you care?” 

“i don't think we're a couple or anything. i don't know what it is.”

“you never asked me!”

“your focus should be on comforting me so that i can comfort him.” 

“it's not that hard. you have to be able to keep up appearances.”

“famous people make videos like that.”

“maybe somebody forgot to tell me, as usual.”

“just make a move on [name] and show him what you want.”

“you wanna stay a while and jam?”

“have you talked to your parents about it?”

“a diverse bunch of losers, who'll never amount to anything.”

“why can't i decide how the hell i want to live?”

“apparently, i'm the only one who doesn't know everybody.”

“i used to have straight a's on every test.”

“it will damage our reputation.”

“i'm fucking starving.”

“why is it called tax "evasion" but welfare "scam"? it's all right that rich people cheat, but when poor people do it, it's messed up. for rich people, it's not even called "welfare”, it's called "deduction."”

“what the fuck is rowing?”

“what the hell have you done, [name]?”

“good voice, man.”

“why can't i just have a relationship with him?”

“did you have fun last friday?”

“all the people are fake. they're made out of metal.”

what do you want me to say? i'm sorry!”

“is this some kind of prank?”

“i like you when you are yourself!”

“but you like him, don't you?”

“she shouldn't talk to you like that.”

“are you into him?”

“something's not right, i think we should head back to the road.”

“do you have trouble sleeping?”

“doesn't anyone care what i want?”

“just don't tell anyone that i've been here.”

“i was going to text you back, but…”

“your only mistake was that you hung out with the wrong kind of people.”

“i just wanted to help.”

“i know you'll use anything to get high or drunk.” 

“it's time to stop being so selfish.”

“i just want my fucking money.”

“you should've planned ahead. didn't you bring a sandwich?” 

“who the fuck wants to be normal anyway?”

“you fucking told me you were the one i could always come to!”

“i take it back.”

“i can see there's something going on.”

“i have to finish getting ready, so if you could please leave.”

“no one likes me when i'm myself.” 

“i hope you have a nice christmas.”

“i'm gonna do the wrong things, say the wrong things.”

“my mom is gonna kill me.”

“do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“i cannot be dragged into this.”

“i like you too.”

“you're no longer a part of my family.”

“it's well-suited for smaller people.”

“i assume that he thought that it would make him popular.”

“i didn't ask for this!”

“it's no problem. i like doing it.”

“it feels like i'm gonna throw up.”

“don't i get any breakfast?”

“whatever i do, i can't do anything right.”

“we haven't been to any party whatsoever.”

“did you get my texts?”

“i think it sounds romantic.”

“uh, wait, you have to come to the horror movie night on friday.”

“i liked what you said in there, [name].”

“okay, maybe he used to be a player, but love can actually change you.”

“it's nice to make an effort and dress up for dinner.” 

“i'm in a fucked-up situation and i'm trying to talk to you.” 

“you don't understand. i was gonna pay it.”

“you're not that kind of guy.”

“i was about to go outside and, um, do you wanna come with?”

“what about me?” 

“it was… okay, i guess.”

“can i sit with you?”

“you call this a scary movie?”

“i have a million things to take care of, i don't have time to talk to you.”

“have you lost it completely?”

“but i'm starving.”

“this past year has been difficult for me.”

“i don't get it. she's making it into such a big deal.”

“no, this won't work. just take it off, please.” 

“i'm not like that.”

“fuck you. it's not a crush.”

“then i know that i can't count on you.”

“can't you come see me in [town] sometime?”

“it's just that we can't be seen together.” 

“he was still sleeping when i walked in.”

“doesn't bother me at all. i've seen it. absolutely. 100%.”

“[name] is really getting on my nerves! seriously.”

“i want us to be friends again.”

“i thought you and [name] were friends.”

“make sure you check your dms. okay?”

“you think it's fun to fuck with people like me?”

“never spend money you don't have. okay?”

“you think i'm stupid?”

“this sucks.” 

“how nice to see some smiles.”

“this isn't just about me, but my entire family.”

“i'm going to marry her.”

“are you threatening me?”

“don't you realize the shit storm that follows if i come out?” 

“i don't want you to talking to her.”

“remember what we saw during movie night? when they sat next to each other?”

“i love you.”

“i just want to hang out with you.”

"there's no point in having a back-up if you never use it."

“pretend i'm saying something clever.”

“how's [name]? he must be totally devastated.”

“what do you think they think we're talking about?”

“everything is fake. everything in the world is fake.”

“[name] is dead.”

“it just wasn't what i thought it would be like.”

“since when did you start liking him for real?” 

“what a fucking douchebag. god!”

“what the hell are you saying? chill out!”

[bdkrp]

Rules + RP Etiquette

General:

Standard stuff: no god-modding, reblog from source, bigots gtfo.

Literate style preferred; usually writing a minimum of 2-3 paragraphs. ▫️ My text is normal-size by default, but if you default to small text, I'll use it as well! Just don't expect any fancy formatting from me lol

Due to not being acknowledged many times I've done so, I don't tend to send passwords. Rest assured that I've read your rules, just like I expect you to read mine.

Mostly iconless, but I absolutely won't mind if you use icons, as long as you don't mind me not using any, haha

I must ask that you be patient. I have a very varied schedule that keeps me busy, and I burn out easily (the wonders of leaving the house while being an introvert).

This is a request more than a rule, but please don't use the Legacy Editor's editable reblogs with me. I use the Beta Editor + XKit and I'd like to keep my threads as neat-looking as possible. You may blame my OCD for that one.

Please tell me if you need anything tagged! I typically do tag things (as '#__ // cw'), but I may still miss some things, so don't be afraid to remind me!

Interactions:

I "only rp with mutuals" in the sense that I’ll follow you if I’m interested in your muse(s)! If you followed me first, it shouldn’t take me more than a week to follow back (sometimes I can't check new blogs right away). ▫️ Even if you state that you're not "mutuals exclusive", I'd still feel too awkward to interact if you don't follow back.

Okay with unprompted asks or starters! ▫️ You can also drop a message if you’d like to plan a closed rp (either on an IM or Discord).

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This should be obvious given the previous point, but either way, I’d rather have no minors follow me. I legitimately don’t have the mental capacity to parent anyone irl. Stay safe!

I don't need to tell you that a dude impregnating his sister is Not A Good Thing. If you somehow think otherwise, do us both a favour and just block me.

IC Stuff:

Regardless of the franchise or verse, I’ll interpret each rp to take place on its own little timeline unless anything indicates otherwise. ▫️ That would mean that I'm okay with your muse doing whatever to mine, so go nuts if you want! (although I'll still appreciate a warning so I know what to expect haha)

Open for shipping if you are! I am multi-ship (see the previous point), and also very open about human x non-human relationships.

If you'd like to turn a meme/prompt into a thread, go ahead! No complains on my part :)

I accept Magic Anons; however, rather than doing that old thing where my character will be in a certain state for x amount of time, I'll write an open starter with the MA as the premise for it.

My timezone is CET/CEST.

[stagemanagerssaygo]

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney’s Hyperion Theater

by Cooper Howell

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney's Hyperion Theater. #holdingtheateraccountable Im just gonna go ahead and be straight up. This is pretty scary to share. HEAVEN: Once upon a time Liesl Tommy cast me as Prince Hans in Frozen: Live at the Hyperion. And I was gooped. GOOPED. There was nothing in my prior history that gave any indication this was possible. Up until then every role I played had to do with my race. Every. Single. One. And even ones where it didn’t (Shakespeare or classical pieces mostly) I was always made aware that the novelty of me being a poc in that role that gave me the part. So much did I not expect to get this part that when I got the callback I rolled my eyes and didn’t take the actual callback seriously. I mean, there was a zero percent chance that Disney would ever let me play a Prince, especially when the dude in the movie is a ginger. But then I got it. And immediately everything I thought was possible about my career changed. My whole life I’ve never inwardly felt black. I’ve never inwardly felt white. I’ve always felt like I was Cooper, you know, on the inside. But whether it was every single white human in Utah reminding me that I was “the whitest person they ever knew/saw” (which DIDNT mean how white my skin was. It was how white I ACTED) or Mr. Johnson, my 7th grade drama teacher, telling me that he “wanted to put Velcro on the ceiling to see if I’d stick” or Mr. Smith, my high school drama teacher, saying “finally we can do black shows” as soon as I entered high school and then not casting me in roles because of the "optics" of it, or even my best friend in high school Tanner Harmon who called me "blackie", I was always reminded that I was an other. So imagine getting paid good money to put on that $10,000 costume and waltzing out to 4000 people a day to play a really amazing part. A fantastic, evil, complicated, person who sings a killer duet and then grabs the show by the throat with a vicious about-face monologue... and not once was my race ever mentioned cuz it didnt matter. What was being prized was Cooper, my talent, not my skin color that I never asked for. Heaven. Liesl MADE SURE, almost overly sure, that the poc’s in the cast felt equal. The kingdom of Arendelle, after all, is a make believe place. It can be whatever. From having Disney executives come and tell us that they were happy to have us there, to side conversations with John Lasseter, we were made to feel overly welcome playing the parts we were playing. She encouraged us to dive deeper into the script of a cartoon that I didnt really think much of until I was in it. We were encouraged to ask why. We felt seen as talent and not commodities. There were, of course, detractors. Gosh, I remember people at a party of cast members from "Mickey and the Magical Map" another show at Disneyland which features a princess and the frog number and many of those casts mates angrily claiming that “if that black girl Tiana Okoye can play Elsa than I should be able to play Princess Tiana” and then looking at me to confirm that was okay to say, not realizing that a) she’s one of my best friends, b) that I’m in the show with her also playing a role that wasn't created to be a poc, c) how racist that sounded, and d) why there's a difference there and why that wouldn't make sense. On Liesls final night I came up to her and said “I don’t know why you did it but thank you so much for casting ME in this part” to which she replied “you mean why would I cast a handsome, talented person in this role?” And I stuttered something like “well, I mean, I’m black. You know...” to which she tilted her head to her side and said “no. I don’t know why. Tell me why that matters.” And I had no answer. Seeing that I had no answer she smiled. That was the answer. There was no reason. On the spot my outlook about myself changed. Windows into what I thought was possible for me opened. -------------------------------------- HELL: And then Liesl went back to NYC and she was replaced by a man named Roger Castellano as show director. Rogers task, he told us on the first day, was to "change the show". We were not told what needed to be changed or even why, but that changes were on the horizon. You've got to understand: to a full cast of actors who had just spent more than three months dissecting a 60 page Disney script with a Tony nominated director like it was Shakespeare, we were initially emotionally/mentally/spiritually resistant to changes. But then it became clear that the spirit of collaboration was over, and the show changes were to be given without the same care, consideration, and thematic explanation of why they were being made. Everyones initial reaction was to push back, but when people who questioned their notes or their changes started getting days removed their schedule or being replaced entirely by a new actor, the Hyperion theater became a place where no one was allowed to speak out. Injustices were happening left and right and no one felt they could do anything for fear of losing their livelihood. And that's when the Frozen: Live at the Hyperion became a living hell. In my first note session with Roger he pulled me into a room with Domonique Paton, my best friend and incredible costar who played princess Anna in the show I was in. She just so happens to also be black. Almost all of Prince Hans’s scenes in the show are with her character and so most of my notes would be primarily based on those interactions with her. Earlier in the day I performed with a different (white) actress but it was the show with Domonique that I had a note session about. Imagine my surprise and dismay when, with how Liesl set up the show experience, we were told this: “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER ITS TOO… URBAN.” Urban. What else could that have meant, do you think? He could have said maybe “too contemporary” emphasizing that we were maybe too modern in our speech patterns or movements. We weren’t. He could have said “too lax” or “too loose” meaning that maybe we were being unprofessional and goofy up there because we’re really good friends. We were not. The best me and Ms. Paton could think of was a 8 count moment of improv dance that me and Domonique decided to use as a synchronized moment of unity. It happened to fall on the line “our mental synchronization can have but one explanation” and thought, with the freedom that Christopher (the original choreographer) had given us, was appropriate, especially considering everyone behind us was doing the robot. As in the 80s robot. But he didnt clarify. He just said “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER IT’S TOO… URBAN” And when asked what he meant he smiled with a little shrug and said "you can figure that out. You're smart." And thats how I became Black Hans and Domonique became Black Anna. My every moment onstage afterwards became about the optics of being a poc in that show. It was if I was suddenly made aware that I was LUCKY enough to be there and under any normal circumstances, or this new directors circumstances, me getting this part would have never happened. But the message was clear. It was especially clear when me and Domonique Paton shows together durastically decreased and made even more clear when the vast majority of the new hires were not people of color. But no one said anything. And made even MORE clear when, over the next few weeks, both Domonique and I got COPIOUS notes, ten times that of our coworkers that played the same parts. It was almost a game. In fact we did turn it into a game, seeing who would get the least amount of notes from him in a day. Our costars would even joke about it onstage with us, during the ballroom scene, and jokingly whisper "The shows been up 15 minutes. How many do you think you got today?" But no one said anything. And the notes were about all kinds of things. How we held our hand. If our inflections went up or down on a word. Which side of a couch we leaned on… which was fine! When you're an actor, thats the gig... until we started comparing our notes with the actors that played our same parts and none of them, NONE, would get the same notes. Our notes would be outrageously longer, the note sessions sometimes lasting 10/15 minutes. Others would get the “Oh hey, try doing this or that next time, okay bye” walk-by notes. Sometimes I would sneak into the audience and watch as some of the other Han's, some of whom changed lines, changed entire intentions of scenes, some of whom adding in all types of vocalizations and cackles and dance moves and what have you, and would receive ZERO notes. But I was watching them to see what was wrong with me. What was my performance missing? What am I actually doing to feel this singled out. And then I realized that the thing that was wrong with me was that I was a different color than the 5 other white Hans's they cast. And then I started getting notes about my penis. Most of the time these “penis sessions”, as I called them, were given in private rooms without another stage manager present. It was incredibly unpleasant and unprofessional. In fairness, those Prince Hans pants are TIGHT! And yes, Mr. Howell is indeed a party in the front and a party in the back, but so were a lot of those fellas. And thats where I put my foot down. If Disney was going to provide me with a costume it is not my responsibility to fix their problem, especially when other of my (white) costars had been given a dance belt for the same thing. But they never got penis notes. Private session notes about what their penis looked like in that show. Over and over again I was told to fix it, to not make it (my dick) so apparent, and that “if my daughter were younger I wouldn’t want her to come to a show you were performing at" all the more insulting considering his daughter, a cast member in the show, was a friend of mine and the loveliest person. He started demanding that I buy a dance belt. It was “my fault”, “my responsibility” …and thats where I took my stand. And then it really became hell. Penis sessions were now done out in the open. Once, he screamed at me, in the green room in front of all of my costars during lunch, about how incredible unprofessional I was, about how he was tired of seeing my dick, and that if I didnt go buy myself one I didnt deserve to be there anymore. Followed by a huge litany of notes. That doesnt compare to some of what Domonique went through and I invite her to share them if she’s willing. During this time I went to every stage manager in the building and told them about being singling out and about my penis. They all told me to write a complaint report and it would go to some place called "HR". Which I did. Numerously. More months passed. Nothing from "HR". Multiple cast members who witnessed my note sessions encouraged me to go to the HR themselves. I didnt honestly know what an HR was. As soon as it was explained to me by my allies even what an HR was I went to the head of HR at Disneyland herself and waited outside of her door. I asked her if she got any of my HR reports and she told me that she had received no HR reports from the Hyperion. Ever. And then asked me to fill out a HR form. As we went over it, she asked me some questions, and then set up a second meeting. On the second meeting she said that in order for my report to be given credence I would need witnesses to give their testimony. The witnesses, in fact the very people that told me to go to HR in the first place, said no. They didnt want to lose their jobs. In retrospect that might be the thing that hurt the most but, whatever... anyway, I was told "“well… without testimonies we’ll do an investigation and we’ll call you when we’ve completed it.” I never received a phone call. With absolutely zero protection from the stage managers from both the sexual harassment or my obvious racial targeting I (and others) were experiencing, not to mention that HR reports were doing nothing, aka not being forwarded, I thought about quitting. And when a white stage manager made a show mistake and laughed it off to the cast by saying an entirely offensive lynching joke, I quit. I didnt matter to Disney. How I felt and what I was being put through didnt matter. I was a commodity. My departure was unceremonious. Bizarre. 100% un-magical. I hung up my costume one last time and it was given to a new Hans, one who looked very much like me oddly, and stepped out of the theater. The park was playing “every wish your heart desires will come to you” and I remember laughing at how dead that song felt. The director has since moved on but still works as a musical theater director in Southern California. This one time 4 years ago I got to feel something other than my color for the first and only time in my professional career. It lasted from about March 2016 to July 2016 and never again since. I will never forget in those early days looking at all the beautiful princesses I got to woo and thinking “wow. I’m a prince right now.” Im sure that sounds stupid. But it didn't feel stupid. And a Disney prince! Yeah, a shitty prince kinda... I mean, he's a sociopath... BUT still a Prince! Especially special was being able to look in Dominique’s eyes and I could see the same glimmer of “can you believe we get to do this right now” reflected back. We never knew it was in the cards for us. My race always has and will always be part of my career equation and a determining factor of its projection. It will always be a determining factor in how im treated, by creatives, by people, by the those in authority over me, including the government and the police. #wasitmyskin

Copied in its entirety here from Cooper Howell’s public Facebook post: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10163696376095054&set=a.10151302685610054&type=3&theater

[randomshyperson]

Wanda X Reader - 10 Things I hate about you - Part One

Summary:  Pietro Maximoff is handsome and popular, but he can't date before his twin sister. The problem is that no one can get close to his sister, Wanda Maximoff. To resolve the situation, a girl interested in Pietro bribes a colleague with a mysterious past to go out with Wanda and, who knows, try to win her over. Or The one directly inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You.

Words:  6.553K  /// Read on AO3 too || Part Two

Warnings: PG, fluff, language; goth wanda is back thank god.

Notes: If English is your native language and I used slang that doesn't make sense at all, forgive me. It is really hard to translate many dialects from Portuguese to English. Anyways enjoy your reading!

You rode your skateboard to school today. Your mother was angry with you and took the keys to your motorcycle while yelling that you were difficult to raise, so you grabbed your backpack and skateboard while slamming the door on your way out.

It didn't take long to get to school, though. 

You absolutely hate this place. Sometimes you get the impression that you are surrounded by completely mental people.

You walked across the parking lot and got off your skateboard, quickly waving to your friend Carol Danvers, who was smoking leaning against the wall of the school building. You would have to talk to them later, as you had a meeting scheduled with the school principal.

Shrugging off the students as you entered the building, you ignored the stares you received and headed toward Ms. Harkness' office.

You entered without knocking because the door was already open, since she was talking to another student, and when the stranger got up she almost tripped over you on her way out. The principal raised her eyes from her notebook to you, and smiled wryly.

- Well, well, Miss Y/L/N. - she said. - I see these encounters of ours are becoming recurrent.

- I like to be around beautiful women, Miss Harkness. - You stated with a charming smile and crossed arms. The woman laughed lightly as she returned her gaze to her notebook.

- Let me see what happened here. - She mumbled to herself, probably trying to find the notes. - Wow, top nudity exhibit in the cafeteria.

You scratched your head impatiently. 

- They were melons, Miss Harkness. - You clarified. - I was making a little joke.

Harkness let out a wry chuckle as she stood up.

- How about you keep them under your blouse, huh? - She scoffed, pointing slightly at the height of your breasts and giving you a wink. You frowned. - Out!

You startled slightly, and Mrs. Harkness giggled, returning to her seat.

You blinked in confusion and turned away, mumbling wryly that she was an excellent professional before you left.

//-//

Carol was waiting for you outside the room, a few feet ahead in the hallway against her own lockers, and you greet her with a kiss on the cheek quickly.

- How did it go today? Did she say anything interesting? - Carol asked with humor in her voice. You leaned your back against the closet, letting out a chuckle.

- No way. - You replied. - She just told me to keep my breasts under my blouse.

Carol laughs lightly, while you check your cell phone. And then she touches your arm lightly. When you raise your eyes to her, she signals the corridor.

- New faces. - She nods, and you notice that it's the same girl who bumped into you in the Harkness room. Now she is accompanied by Bruce Banner, who was clearly showing her around.

- Wow, people keep choosing to come to this place. - You mock, making your friend laugh a little.Carol then checks the clock on her wrist and signals that she needs to get to her history class.  You say goodbye to her, but get distracted by your cell phone again, and then the bell rings, and you have to run to get to the literature room on the other side of the building.

//-//

You stumble into the room, and all the students turn to look at you.

- What have I missed? - you ask, trying to normalize your breathing after running through the halls.

- The oppressive patriarchal values that determine our education. - replied a girl you didn't know.

- Nice. - You grumble with a slight laugh, as you hurry to sit in the back of the room.

- You must love detention, don't you, Miss Y/L/N? This is your third delay this week. - commented the teacher as soon as you sat down. Several giggles were heard, but you didn't pay much attention. You threw your bag on the chair and tried to pretend that you were interested in whatever Professor Fury was teaching.

- Professor Fury, any chance you could ask Wanda to take her Midol before coming to class? - scoffed Pepper Potts, one of the most popular and insufferable girls at this school. You rolled your eyes at the teasing, and leaned back as the rest of the class giggled.

- One of these days Mrs. Maximoff is going to punch you in the nose, and I'm not going to do anything to stop her. - Fury replied seriously, wiping the ironic smile off Potts' face. - And Wanda, I want to thank you for your point of view. I know how hard it must have been to overcome all those years of upper middle-class suburban oppression. It must be hard. - He sneered and then started walking toward the girl who was probably Wanda. - But the next time you protest about demanding better food, or whatever it is that white kids protest about, ask them why they don't buy books written by black people!

You let out a little laugh, and Professor Fury looked at you seriously.

- Do you find something funny, Miss? 

You shrugged, straightening your posture.

- Sorry to interrupt your speech, Mr. Fury. - You say. - But you're blaming Wanda for something she has no control over. Wouldn't it be better to suggest books written by black women, instead of separating the fights?

Professor Fury blinks in irritation at you, while Wanda looks in your direction, looking surprised.

- Out. Principal office. - says the professor, and you blink in surprise. - Both of you, by the way! You pissed me off!

You grumble, and grab your backpack and leave the room, with Wanda following behind. But you don't speak to her, and when you leave the room, you go to opposite sides of the hallway, since you had no intention of seeing the principal at all.

//-//

You ended up skipping the last two classes of the day while sneaking a smoke with Carol behind the bleachers of the soccer field. 

And then you accepted the ride home that she offered you.

- See you tomorrow, troublemaker. - She said good-bye, and you just nodded as you walked toward the front door.

Your mother was at home, sitting at her computer in the living room, and you thought maybe you could sneak past her, but as soon as you closed the door she turned around with her arms crossed.

- The school called. - She said as she stood up, and you let out an impatient sigh as you threw your backpack on the floor by the door. - Are you trying to get suspended?

- Oh yeah, that's my dream. - You scoff, walking toward the kitchen.

- You're going to be grounded.

- I'm already grounded. - You retort softly, and your mother walks over to the counter. 

- You think I'm kidding? - She exclaims angrily, and then she's heading down the hall, and you're curious what she's going to do, so you follow her through the house to the garage. You look impassive as she glances around, but then she grabs a hammer and screwdriver from the cabinet and heads for her motorcycle. Your whole body tenses up, but before you can do anything, your mother is breaking your bike.

- You've gone crazy! - You shout as you run toward her, but she turns threateningly toward you with the objects pointed in your direction

- No more fighting! - she shouts. - You're not going anywhere on this damn motorcycle, do you hear me? You are grounded until college.

And then she throws the tools on the floor, and leaves the garage. You take a deep breath, trying not to break everything in front of you, and turn to your motorcycle. Some parts were broken, but you could fix them. The problem would be having the money to do it.

//-//

Tuesday started with biology. And you were really pissed off about the whole thing with your mom and your motorcycle. The professor asked the groups to dissect frogs, and the damn scalpel he handed out wasn't cutting anything. So you grabbed your knife hidden in your boot, and angrily pierced the animal. 

- You've lost your mind, put that away! - ordered Carol sitting next to you as she looked around to see if the teacher had seen. You let out an angry sigh and put the item away.

You were bored, and you smoked when you were bored. So you turned the valve on the experimental flame on the bench while putting a cigarette in your mouth, and walked over to light it.

- Girl, what's the matter with you today? - Carol asked impatiently, closing the valve and taking the cigarette out of your mouth.

You mumbled without answering, and she let out a dry laugh before going back to writing. Your gaze wandered around the room and you thought that the new girl and Bruce Banner were looking at you from the table in front of you, but they looked away quickly, so you got distracted again.

//-//

The next class was better because it kept your hands busy. Mechanics with Professor Howard Stark was interesting as he allowed the students to experiment as much as they wanted. 

At this moment you were welding a car part while trying not to burn your fingers when you heard a female voice next to you.

- Hi, how are you? - the girl said, and as you turned you realized that it was the new student. You frowned confused, you don't talk to anyone. You thought you should have an aggressive posture, because the girl's voice trembled a little, and then she quickly said good-bye and left the room. You shook your head and went back to concentrating on the lesson.

- What the hell was that all about? - Carol asked from beside you, and you shrugged.

- I told you there are only crazy people in this school. - You remarked with amusement.

- But we go here. - She retorted with a smile.

- Exactly.

Carol laughed and turned her attention back to her own activity.

//-//

In Gym class, the teacher took all the students to the outdoor field, where the rugby team was practicing. He was more concerned about the girls' performance, so he let the rest of the class do as they pleased. Then you and Carol sat down on one of the benches, while you shared a cigarette.

And you had about ten minutes of peace before Pepper Potts and one of her friends came to talk to you.

- Hey, what's up? - asked the blonde, and you looked at her with irony.

- Are you lost? - You replied aggressively, but she didn't seem intimidated.

- See that girl over there? - She said, pointing quickly toward the field. You followed her direction, and it was the same girl from literature class. - That's Wanda Maximoff. I want you to go out with her.

You laughed, shaking your head, and then took a drag on your cigarette.

- As if, preppy. - You denied it as you exchanged a look with Carol, who was grinning in disbelief.

But Pepper was not joking.

- Look, I can't go out with her hot brother until she dates. - She clarifies. - Their father is kind of crazy, he made a rule...

- Touching. Really. I'm moved. - You mock without patience. - But that's not my problem.

- Would it be your problem if you were paid a nice fee?

You let out a dry laugh, looking at her in surprise.

- Are you going to pay me to go out with someone? - you ask, and Potts has a smile on her face as she nods in agreement. You laugh again. - How much?

- Twenty dollars.

You raise your eyebrows, really considering this for a second. And then you look toward the field, and watch as Wanda fouls a girl to the ground, and you swallow dryly. This girl was going to eat you alive.

- Okay, how about 30 bucks? - Potts next suggests when she sees the foul. 

You thought about the parts of your motorcycle that you would have to buy. And you licked your lips before you spoke.

- Let's take a good look at this. - You start. - If I take her to the movies, it will be fifteen dollars. And if we buy popcorn, it's fifty dollars. I like to buy candy for the girls, so it would be about seventy-five.

- This is not a negotiation. - Potts retorts angrily. - Take it or leave it, mutt.

You let out a humorless laugh. 

- But I think it is, Potts. - You retort, smoking your cigarette again. - Or I'll go over there now and tell Wanda your whole touching little tale.

Potts blinks in irritation, and lets out a wry laugh. But then she relaxes her posture.

- Eighty dollars. - she says. You smile, throwing the cigarette on the floor and putting it out with your foot. 

- Deal, Hollywood. - You tell her, and raise your hand in her direction. Potts rolls her eyes, but takes the money from her pocket and hands it to you.

She and her friend then leave, and you settle into your seat.

- You're crazy. - Carol declares afterwards.

- Yes, I know. - You say, brushing your hair out of your eyes with your hands. - But I need new parts. It'll be harmless, it's just a date.

- I hope you're right. - She comments with a laugh, turning her attention back to the field. And then practice ends, and you exchange a look with Carol before getting up and walking toward the players' benches.

You assume your most charming pose as you approach Wanda.

- Hey, pretty girl. - You greet her with a smile as she drinks water from a bottle. She frowns in surprise, and has a wry smile on her face. - What's up?

- I'm sweating like a pig, how are you? - She answers wryly, and you smile awkwardly.

- Wow, that sounds attractive. - You reply in the same tone, watching her put the bottle of water in her backpack on the bench.

- Oh, yes. My goal in life is to look attractive all the time. - She scoffs, frowning. - But I guess it works, since I got your attention. The world makes sense again.

She starts walking toward the exit of the camp, and you are a bit taken aback by the irony, but hurry to keep up with her.

- I'll pick you up on Friday, then. - You tell her, and Wanda lets out a laugh.

- Sure, Friday. - She wryly continues walking.

- Hey, it's the night I take you to places you've never seen.

- To a convenience store on Broadway? - She replies with irony. - Girl, do you even know my name?

You laugh.

- Wanda. - You answer, but she doesn't seem impressed. - And I know more than you know.

- I doubt it. I doubt it very much. - She said ironically and you stopped following her, biting your lip as you watched her walk off the field.

//-//

Your first attempt to get a date with Wanda had not gone well at all, but you are optimistic. And then, on Saturday of that same week, while you and Carol were at the laundromat on the corner of your houses, she nodded slightly outside through the window.

- Isn't that the car of the girl you're being paid to date? - She mocked, and you sighed.

- Don't talk like that. - you said as you put the coins in the washing machine. - It makes me sound like a psychopath.

She laughed without looking at you, kneeling on the waiting couch as she looked out the window.

- I think I should look for a new rejection. - You grumble, handing Carol some coins. - Take care of my clothes while I go talk to her, please.

Carol nods in agreement as you leave the establishment. Crossing the street, you look in the direction of Wanda's car. It is nice, and you are watching the tires as she arrives.

- Are you following me? - She asks with a mixture of aggressiveness and surprise. 

- What? Of course not! - You deny it, but with the suspicious look on her face, you try to add. - I was in the laundry room, smarty-pants. I saw your car, and wanted to say hello.

She lets out a sigh, and shrugs her shoulders, heading for the door. You hurry to stand in front of her, a charming smile on your lips.

- I notice that you don't talk much. - You remark, and Wanda frowns, crossing her arms.

- It depends on the subject. - She says. - Talking about the tires on my car doesn't cause me a verbal frenzy.

- You're not afraid of me, are you? - you ask, and she looks at you incredulously.

- Why would I be afraid of you?

- Most people are. - You retort, and Wanda rolls her eyes with irony.

- Well, I don't.

You smile and move a little closer.

- Not afraid, but I bet you've imagined me naked, haven't you? - You tease and give a little wink. Wanda keeps her face almost angry.

- Wow, is it that obvious? - She retorts. - I want you so bad, baby.

She mocks last before bending down slightly and opening the car door, pushing you with the metal.

You let out an impatient sigh as you step back, and she gets into the car and prepares to leave. You stand with your arms folded trying to think how exactly you are going to make this work.

And then Pepper Potts parks her car right behind Wanda's, preventing her from leaving, while the blonde steps out of the vehicle with a smiling, arrogant posture.

- My God, is it idiots' day today? - Wanda complains from inside the car. When Pepper passes by her window, she shouts: - Do you mind girl?

- Not even a little, bitch. - Potts retorts without looking at her as she walks away. 

But then Wanda is backing the car up, and the next moment Pepper's red Cadillac has a big bump mark on the side. You laugh in surprise, not believing that she had actually hit the car.

- My God, you are completely crazy! - Potts shouts as she observes the impact. 

- Oops. - You hear Wanda scoff.

You laughed again, before going back to the laundry room. 

//-//

It was Monday again, and you were trying to have a quiet day. But while you were putting your books away in your locker, Potts approached you.

- When I pay for something, I expect results. - She says, and you close the closet to brace yourself against it.

- I'm trying.

- Watching that lunatic destroy my car doesn't count as a date. - She retorts with mild irritation. - If you don't go out with her, I won't get Pietro. Then get something soon, okay?

That girl's audacity pissed you off. 

- I just raised the price. - You tell her, and she looks at you in disbelief.

- Excuse me?

- One hundred and fifty dollars a date. - You say. - In advance.

- Forget it. - She said angrily, turning away.

- Then forget about her brother.

Potts lets out a grumble and then turns to you again, hurrying to get the money.

- Does this kid have a gold dick by any chance? - You scoff, and Potts gives you the middle finger, making you laugh.

- You better get the date, sister. - She says, and you just smile before heading off in the direction of the mechanics' classroom.

//-//

You were trying to find the correct melting point for one of the tools when you were approached by the same girl as the last time you had mechanics. 

- I know what you are trying to do with Wanda Maximoff. - She announces, and you let out a wry chuckle as you continue your attention to the tools in front of you.

- Really? And what are you going to do about it?

- Help you.

You blink in surprise as you raise a large metal bar at your eye level to identify its features.

- Why? - you ask, and it is not the girl who speaks next.

- The situation is that my friend Monica, is in love with Pietro Maximoff. - A male voice speaks, and then you look quickly to identify Bruce Banner.

- God, this kid must really have a gold cock. - You mumble with irony as you place the iron bar on the table, and take off your protective gloves.

- Believe me when I tell you that Monica's love is pure, she wants to date him. - Banner explains as you walk to another table in the room, looking for your notes. - Unlike Pepper Potts, who only wants to use him as a trophy.

- Look, I'm only in this for the money. I don't give a shit who Potts is fucking. - You respond without patience, and Monica seems to get irritated with you, but Banner calms her down.

You make some notes regarding the lesson and walk over to the table to analyze the pictures of the tools as you organize them. Monica and Banner follow you.

- Listen, Y/N, we are the ones who planned this story so that Monica and Pietro could date. - Banner says. - Potts is just the go-between.

You laugh with surprise.

- And you are going to help me win Wanda over?

- That's right. - They both say in unison. You turn your attention back to the materials in front of you.

- We will investigate what she likes. - Banner says. - You need our help.

Bruce smiled amiably, and you laughed at the posture he assumed.

- Look, we'll start here. - He began by pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. - On Friday, Stephen Strange is having a party. It's the perfect opportunity.

- Perfect for what? - you ask, looking at him.

- For you to invite Wanda. - He clarifies, and you sigh impatiently, already tired of this conversation.

- I'll think about it. - You say finally and walk to the other side of the room, and this time, they don't follow you.

//-//

It was Wednesday, and you and your friends went to a bar to play a bit of pool shortly after school. Your mother had no idea you were here, but she was working, so she wouldn't know.

You got a text message from Bruce, wanting to meet you along with Monica, and you laughed when you sent the location. They really weren't the kind of people who hang around this place.

You were upstairs, drinking some beer when you saw them come in, and nodding slightly to Carol, you went downstairs and walked over to them.

- So, what do you have for me? - you asked, leaning against a wall.

- Before we get started, I have a question. - says Bruce. - Is it true that you are on probation?

You laugh in surprise.

- What?

- Bruce, shut up. - said Monica, tapping her colleague on the shoulder. And then she turned to you. - First thing, Wanda hates smokers.

- Okay, I hate them too.

You mock, but Monica and Bruce look serious, so you sigh, and take out of your pocket your cigarette case, handing it to the girl.

- There is another problem, Pietro told me that Wanda likes pretty girls. 

They look at you for a moment and you frown.

- Are you saying that I'm not pretty? - you ask, straightening your posture.

- You are beautiful! Monica, she's so beautiful, what are you saying? - hurried Bruce almost in terror. You wanted to laugh.

Monica nods quickly in agreement, and you lean back against the wall.

- Look, I made a list. - She hastens to say, pulling a piece of paper from her shirt pocket. - Wanda's tastes are: Sokovian food, feminist poetry, punk and alternative music. And there is a list of the CDs she had in her room.

She says, handing the paper to you. You let out a sigh.

- So should I buy some soup, a book, and ear plugs for some really noisy concert?

They both shrug, smiling slightly.

- Have you ever been to the Skrull Club, west side of town? - Banner asks.

You chuckle.

- It's a nice place, but not really my style.

- Well, it will have to be. - says Monica. - Her favorite group is playing there tomorrow night.

You run your fingers through your hair, sighing.

- Come on, Y/N, it's only for one night. - says Banner. - We're sure she'll be there, Mon found the tickets.

- She also has a black lingerie set. - Added Monica and you frown with confusion.

- Why is this relevant? - You asked, and Monica looked away, looking embarrassed. You laughed lightly, but didn't push it. Then you looked at both of them. - Okay, I'll drop by.

Bruce and Monica both let out excited exclamations and then waved goodbye. You laughed and shook your head, wondering what you had gotten yourself into.

//-//

The Skrull Club was generally frequented by the punk crowd in town, many women from extremist feminist movements hung out here. But in general it was a pretty diverse crowd of rockers, punks, goths and allies. And the drink was cheap.

You received a few curious glances as you walked through the dimly lit corridors of the nightclub, but it was more because these clubs were generally frequented by the same people, and you’re a familiar face.

The place was very crowded, and you had to dodge a lot of people until you reached the main dance floor, trying to find Wanda.

You smiled when you finally saw her, in the first row, dancing with a girl who was also from your school. You thought she looked pretty, in her black dress and red jacket, plus a knee-length black stocking and dark boots on her feet. She might have looked intimidating, but she was still very pretty.

You don't quite understand why your heart races at the image of her dancing and smiling, so you think it best to get a drink, and turn toward the bar.

You sit there, trying to decide how you are going to approach her, but then Wanda is coming toward the bar, and you disguise yourself by looking the other way.

- You don't give up, do you? - She says as soon as she sees you. And walks over to where you are sitting. - If you're planning on asking me out, you can just give up!

- Do you mind? I'm trying to hear the music. - You hit back without looking at her.

-You're not surrounded by your typical cloud of smoke. -She comments after a moment, and you take a sip of the drink you ordered before answering.

- Yes, I quit. They say it's bad for your health. - You say it with a slight irony.

- Do you think so? - Wanda looks slightly surprised, and you give her a short smile before standing up.

- These guys aren't the Kree's, but they play well. - You comment on her favorite band before heading off toward the dance floor. Wanda hurries to follow you.

- Do you know who the Kree's are? - she asks in surprise.

- Why, you don't know? - You reply with irony.

She doesn't answer, looking mildly impressed. You smile briefly.

- I was watching you dance. - You comment as the band is finishing the song. - I don't think I've ever seen you so sexy.

And then the song ends exactly with your line, and the whole club hears you. Several people giggle, and you feel your cheeks heat up, but Wanda laughs too, and that relaxes you.

- Come to Stephen Strange's party with me. - You ask her. And she tilts her head slightly to the side, still smiling.

- You never give up, do you?

And then another song starts, and Wanda is coming back to the front of the stage.

- Is that a yes? - you shout at her.

- No!

- Was that a no?

It takes a second, but she shouts back.

- No!

You grin.

- See you at 9:30! - You shout to her before she disappears into the crowd. 

You're smiling all the way home.

//-//

You were early. But you were so anxious about it that you left the house as quickly as possible. 

And then you arrived at Wanda's door, but as soon as you went to knock, she opened it.

- What are you doing here? - she asked in surprise.

- 9:30. - You answer. - Yeah, well, I'm early.

- Whatever, I'm driving. - She says and then you look into the house and see Pietro Maximoff with a kangaroo baby carrier outfit occupied with a doll and frown.

- May I ask what that is? - You remark, and Wanda just rolls her eyes at the scene, then turns to you.

- My father is a little neurotic about this whole pregnancy thing. - She answers and walks outside. You both wait for Pietro.

- At least he doesn't use a real baby. - You joke and Wanda smiles. But then Pietro leaves the house, looking slightly annoyed, and you hurry to Wanda's car.

It doesn't take long to get to the party.

The place was packed. Probably the whole school was here. And as soon as Wanda found a parking place, Pietro got out and disappeared into the crowd.

You decided to accompany Wanda as she entered the house. You went toward the second floor, and you lost sight of Wanda when a girl jumped on you, completely drunk and trying to kiss you.

- Wow, slow down there. - You said, helping her sit up. You found several empty and sealed bottles of water in one of the liquor containers around the house and handed one to her. - I want you to drink it all, okay?

The girl whimpered in confusion, but you waited. She seemed better, but you handed her another bottle just to be sure.

- Hey Peggy, I found you! - said a skinny boy you didn't know, walking up to you. He frowned, slightly startled, when he noticed you.

- Are you a friend of hers? - You asked him with distrust, and he nodded, looking mildly frightened.

- Yes, he is. This is Steve. - mumbled the girl sitting up, looking like she had a headache. - Thanks for the water, by the way.

- No problem. - You say. - Are you feeling well enough to be alone?

She nods slightly as she speaks:

- Yes, yes. Steve will take care of me now. Thanks again.

And then you patted Steve on the arm, and left the two of them, walking back through the crowd.

It took you many minutes to find Wanda again, because the party is so crowded. And when you reached her, she was pouring a glass of drink into her mouth.

- Hey, I've been looking all over for you. - You announce mildly annoyed. - What the hell are you doing?

- Getting drunk! - she answers ironically. - Isn't that what people are supposed to do at a party?

- I don't know, you do whatever you want to do. - You retort, and Wanda raises her eyebrows.

- Very funny. You're the only one who says that. - She says as she turns away. - See you later.

Wanda leaves walking through the party, and you see her grab another drink glass on the way.

You think you heard someone yell fight while you were walking through the party, and then the crowd moved, but you didn't go toward the people. 

You are very angry, and impatient, wanting to be spending this evening with Wanda, but she doesn't seem interested. 

And then you were walking back the way you came, and you ran into the same couple as before, only now they were kissing. You laughed lightly, the boy looked shy. You decided to stay out of their way, and went downstairs, only to run into Wanda again.

- Hey, why don't you let me have this one. - You spoke up as you noticed what must have been one of the many glasses of booze she had taken, and you raised your arm to pick it up, but Wanda was quicker, moving the glass away.

- No! This one is mine! - she grumbled, clearly drunk, trying to push you away. But you managed to take her glass, and she let out an annoyed sigh.

As you put the glass on a small table, she walked away again, and before you could follow, Pepper was at your side.

- Girl, how did you manage to do that? - she asked, looking excited. You frowned.

- What are you talking about?

- You made a freak act like a human being. - She commented with irony, but you weren't even paying attention anymore. Your gaze raced across the room after Wanda, and then someone turned on the radio in the next room and the crowd screamed attracting your attention.

You exclaimed in surprise when you noticed Wanda dancing on a table, without the jacket she was wearing earlier. Pepper ran in the same direction, joining in the shouts of celebration from the crowd around the table. 

Walking towards the table you were a mixture of irritation, disbelief and embarrassment. Wanda was completely drunk, dancing sensually to the music, while people whistled and watched intently. She had her eyes closed, not even seeming to notice her surroundings.

And then she made a badly calculated move, and hit her head on the chandelier on the table. You were quick enough to catch her when she fell.

- Okay, that was enough. - You grumbled, helping her to her feet. - Are you okay?

- I'm fine! - she replied, but she could barely walk. You kept her from falling while grabbing the jacket she had thrown to the ground.

- Yeah, you're not fine. - You said. - Let's get out of here.

- I just need to lie down. - She mumbled, letting you hold her around the waist as you led her through the crowd.

- If you lie down, you'll sleep. - You say. - You can't sleep after hitting your head.

Wanda giggled.

- So many words. - She complained, and you thought it best to sit her down somewhere.

You reached the outside, as crowded as the house, but you managed to find a space in the garden for her to sit, and helped her to the bench. Wanda put her hand on her head where she had hit it.

- Hey, I need to talk to you. - Called Monica, walking up to you suddenly.

- I'm kinda busy. - You retorted, looking at Wanda.

- Five minutes, it's important.

You sighed, and took one last look at Wanda before walking away with Monica.

- Look, the deal is off, okay? - she said, and you blinked in confusion. - Pietro never wanted to be with me. He just wanted to have sex with Pepper.

You really didn't have the energy for that right now.

- Monica, where did all this come from now, huh? Weren't you two sneaking around together?

- I thought I was having a good time, but I saw them both at the party. - She explained, and you sighed impatiently.

- Hey, you like this boy don't you? - you asked, and she looked away, nodding. - And he's worth all this stuff you're doing?

- I thought so but...

- Yes or no?  - She swallowed hard, and you assumed a serious posture. - Listen, Pepper Potts is not half as good as you, and you never let anyone make you think that you don't deserve something. Okay? 

Monica nodded, looking surprised. You turned your face toward Wanda quickly.

- Look, I have to go. - You said as you turned and helped Wanda to her feet.

On the way out you made sure to grab one of the bottles of water you found in the barrels.

You let her rest her arm on your shoulder to keep from falling, while your arm went around her waist. You dragged her across the street, and you ended up climbing a small hill in the mansion area that ended at a playground.

- Why are you doing this? - she grumbled.

- I said, you might have a concussion. - You retorted. Wanda broke free of you and started trying to walk ahead. You kept your attention to catch her in case she fell.

- You don't even care if I don't wake up.

You let out a chuckle, stopping her from falling next.

- That's not true.

- Why not?

- Because then I'd have to date girls who like me. - You respond with humor.

- If you could find one. - She retorts, and you have a smile on your lips when you answer.

- Oh, see. Who needs affection when I get hate?

- I just need to sit for a while. - She says, closing her eyes for a moment, and you help her sit down on one of the swings behind you. She falls off balance a second after you put her there, but you are quick to help her stay seated.

- Jesus. - You sigh as you stop her from falling, and then sit down on the swing beside her while Wanda laughs lightly. - So, why do you let yourself be affected?

- By whom? - she asks.

- Potts.

Wanda looks away, shaking her head.

- I hate her.

You let out a tired sigh.

- Well, you have chosen the perfect revenge. Intravenous tequila. - You joke, making her laugh.

- It's what they say.... - She begins to speak while you are looking away, and with the momentary silence you stare back, startled to find her asleep. You get up hastily, touching her face.

- Hey, Wanda! Wake up! Come on, open your eyes! - You called out, patting her face lightly. 

Wanda blinked, opening her eyes, and you let out a sigh of relief. And then you took your hands away from her face and stood up, while she continued to look at you.

- I like your eyes. - She says with a shy smile. And you smile too, but then she throws up on your shoes the next second and the moment is broken. You laugh incredulously, but pat her on the back.

- Time to go home, punk. - You comment softly.

It takes a moment for Wanda to calm down, and you hand her the bottle of water you got. Then you walk to her car, and she hands you the keys.

Just as you are about to arrive at her house many minutes after, she speaks again:

- I should do that. - She comments still sounding drunk. 

- Do what?

- That. - She says, pointing to the radio. A rock song was playing.

- Start a band?

- No, install radios in cars. - She retorted with irony, and you laughed lightly. - Starting a band of course. My dad would love it.

You then stop the car in front of her house. 

- You don't seem to be the type to ask your father's permission to do things. - You comment as you take out the keys.

Wanda blinks in surprise.

- So now you know me?

- I'm trying. 

- People only know that I scare them.

- Yeah, I know the feeling. - You comment with a wry smile. Wanda looks at you with an intensity that makes your stomach turn. - So, your father looks tough.

- No, he just wants me to be someone I'm not. - She says, shaking her head slightly.

- Who?

- Pietro. - She answers with a frown. You let out an understanding sigh.

- No offense, I know everyone likes your brother and all, but he's a pretty shallow guy. - You say and Wanda looks at you in surprise, but then she has a little smile on her face.

- You know... you're not as obnoxious as I thought. - She says, making you laugh slightly. And then she looks at you like that again, and brings your faces together, closing her eyes. You swallow dryly, ignoring your nervousness, and look at the steering wheel.

- I think we should do this another time. - You say, and Wanda looks at you in disbelief, as you twiddle your fingers nervously. She frowns and looks ahead, then opens the car door and gets out.

You sit there for several minutes, hoping that Wanda won't be even more irritated with you than she usually is.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 308: VIBE: CHECKED

Previously on BnHA: Lots and lots of Shindou idk what else to tell you.

Today on BnHA: Tired Nomad Deku rescues Shindou from Muscular, and us from Shindou. Muscular is all “OH BOY I SURE CAN’T WAIT TO FIGHT DEKU AGAIN AFTER HE TOTALLY KICKED MY ASS THE LAST TIME!! I’M SURE THIS TIME WILL GO DIFFERENTLY SEEING AS HE’S HAD ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR’S WORTH OF ADDITIONAL TRAINING, AND ALSO HAS SIX FOURQUIRKS NOW, IN ADDITION TO THE CONFIDENCE THAT COMES WITH HAVING EIGHT OTHER PEOPLE’S SOULS CHILLING OUT INSIDE HIM OFFERING MORAL SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT.” Deku is all, “[kicks Muscular’s ass effortlessly].” Muscular is all, “[gets his ass totally kicked].” I for one am very satisfied with this, and with respect to all, I would like to hereby declare this post a discourse-free zone. I’m just happy to see my son out here making good use of his FOURQUIRKS, and more importantly beating Muscular in less than seventeen pages so we can all go on with our lives lol.

damn Deku since when were you allowed to look this cool

from this perspective and with the smoke, cape, backpack, and mask more or less obscuring his actual profile, he looks less like a sixteen-year-old boy and more like a grownass man

OH SNAP

we got a glimpse of this in the cleaned-up scan of 307, but seeing both of his eyes looking so distinctively All Might-esque here is... whoa. I mean we know that his face still looks pretty normal underneath the mask and he doesn’t actually have the black sclera, but still, this is an awesome look. mini-Might

lol Muscular

you and me both. I mean no offense, but yeah

so Deku is just standing there silently

typical Deku. tight-lipped and expressionless. mum’s the word. quiet as a mouse. silent as a grave

okay no but seriously this is so weird and creepy though you guys. Deku please say something or else I’m just gonna mindlessly say whatever stupid things come into my head in an effort to make things less awkward

so Muscular is all “I should probably make a cool speech about revenge but Horikoshi couldn’t think of anything good so I’m just going to stand here clenching my fist real slowly”

“I’m not here to go on a monologue” he says, as he monologues about not monologuing

okay you guys I confess I have only read through/watched the Deku VS Muscular fight once because the arm-breaking is just way too uncomfortable for me to revisit. and so as a result, I have completely forgotten Whatever The Deal Is with Muscular’s eye lmao so let me go look it up real quick

okay so it’s a prosthetic, obviously, and he changes it out according to his mood. that part does sound familiar. I just can’t remember which eye is supposed to indicate which mood. don’t tell me I actually have to go back and reread this shit

lol I’m skimming through chapter 75 now and remembering/realizing that I hardly paid any attention to this the first time around because as soon as I found out the villains were after Kacchan my brain was like “TIME TO FOCUS ON THIS AND ONLY THIS NOW AND FOREVER” and yeah. ah memories

anyway so he started out with the flower-looking eye, and then later on he was all

which begs the question, how on earth could I have ever forgotten the most ridiculous panel I’ve ever read lmao

anyway, but so after all of that, I'm only just now realizing that this isn't one of his previous eye prosthetics in the current chapter; this is an ACTUAL FUCKING ROCK that he's just randomly shoved into his eye socket fkdsjlk

so basically (1) I did all of that painstaking research for nothing, five whole minutes of my life wasted THANKS A LOT, and (2) what, and I have never meant this more emphatically, THE FUCK

anyway so now he's leaping at the building that Deku is standing on top of. but he’s not aiming anywhere near Deku though, wtf

(ETA: HAHA YOU BROKE ALL YOUR MUSCLES YOU LOSER.)

...huh

lmao okay then. I hope those annoying citizens in the building next door are watching this go down and rethinking their life choices

dlkdkljk

just keep standing there pressed right up against the window, why don’t you. “WHAT’S GOING ON THIS SUPER CLOSE COLLAPSING BUILDING IS BLOCKING OUR VIEW.” well, folks, we’ve long since known there’s a critical shortage of hero and villain brain cells, but what we’re learning now is that civilian brain cells are also in short supply

OH THANK GOD DEKU IS FINALLY TALKING THAT WAS ACTUALLY UNSETTLING AS FUCK

SO HE’S STILL OUR GOOD, POLITE, WORRIED, CONSIDERATE DEKU UNDERNEATH THAT COOL AND MYSTERIOUS VENEER. for real, thank fuck, because I swear to god if he suddenly started acting like the Dekus in all of the vigilante AUs my interest in this series would have dropped something like 50% lol. just because he dropped out of school and ran away from home and is currently dressed like the physical manifestation of a Linkin Park playlist doesn’t mean he’s not still the WORLD’S BIGGEST DORK okay

I MEAN, THIS RIGHT HERE. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT. HE’S APOLOGIZING FOR THE DELAY

PLEASE FIND THE ATTACHED SHINDOU YOU REQUESTED. BEST REGARDS!!!

OH MY GOD WHY IS HE SUCH A BADASS

something about making bold, confident statements while obscured in smoke?? idk but damn it fucking works

ffjkkl

more importantly, should you tell him you actually need your copy of Shindou in excel format and not pdf?? on the one hand you don’t want to sound ungrateful, but on the other hand what are you even supposed to do with this

this chapter so far consists of like 50% smoke, but on the other hand Deku VS Kacchan 2 had a lot of cinematic smoke too so who am I to complain

OMG IS IT HIS ARMS

IDK DID YOU?! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS. PLEASE, AT SOME POINT THIS FIGHT HAS GOT TO ACTUALLY ADVANCE THE PLOT

OHHHHHHH

IT’S EN’S QUIRK!! OH MY GOD OKAY THAT’S ACTUALLY AWESOME

I CAN HEAR THE SOUND OF DISCOURSE RUMBLING IN THE BACKGROUND BUT I DON’T CARE LOL. WON’T CATCH ME EVER SAYING NO TO ANOTHER SIXQUIRK. GO AHEAD, BRING THEM ON, I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL but take it easy though Deku. don’t want to give yourself lung cancer or anything

also it’s good to see that in a very real sense he’s not fighting alone. the Vestiges really did mean it when they said they could appear more easily now. this is on a whole other level

so is this whole next page still En talking, or someone else? because whoever it is sure is chatty

okay, several things

pretty sure it is En, because he keeps saying “I suppose.” for someone who never said two words until one page ago, this guy sure never shuts up. we can’t all follow Muscular’s lead I suppose. oh my god now I’m doing it too

really like the suggestion of Deku using the SIXQUIRKS like tools in an arsenal, because that’s what he’s good at! it’s almost like he’s been training for this his entire life. “you value quirks too much” LOOK HE JUST THINKS THEY’RE COOL OKAY IS THAT A CRIME

where the fuck did all this rope come from

not gonna ask what the fuck that thing is sticking out from the back of his utility belt. Horikoshi will surely explain this

is that a fucking jetpack. I’m sorry Deku were six fucking quirks not enough for you. you can fucking float??? but JUST TO BE SAFE, LET’S STRAP A PAIR OF ROCKETS TO OUR SHOULDERS IDK

-- or wait, is this all supposed to be like a visual representation of En’s metaphor?? OH MY GOD AM I JUST STUPID LOL, DON’T ANSWER THAT. NEVER MIND. NEW LIST!!

rope = blackwhip

jetpack = float

radio = danger sense

and so I’m guessing that this ridiculously phallic thing is supposed to be a flare or something?? and that = the new quirk, smokescreen. well that was a fucking ride lmao we now return you to our regularly scheduled chapter

so now Deku is floating to his heart’s content and thinking that he’ll just sneak up on Muscular and vibe check his ass or whatever

WOOOOOOOO DANGER SENSE YESSSS I LOVE THIS FOR HIM

okay guys, I'm gonna press pause here for a sec to make a serious note, because I am loving the shit out of this, but tbh I'm having trouble enjoying it as much as I want to because I keep getting anxious thinking about the discourse. I know that a lot of the fandom has very strong opinions on Deku's character development one way or the other, and I want to respect that. but I also really have no spoons to debate this topic at all beyond what I’ve already weighed in on. so if it’s all the same to everyone, I plan on staying out of this discussion, at least this week

anyway! that said, YEAH BOI GET HIS ASS

VIBE: CHECKED. CURB: STOMPED. HOTEL: TRIVAGO

-- OF COURSE HE’S STILL FUCKING FINE LOL HE CRASHES INTO BUILDINGS FOR FUN IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING

dammit Muscular. how many fucking quirks does it take to beat you?! the annoying thing is that even with all of his cool new powers, Deku is still something of a mismatch against him. anyway r.i.p. to all these poor buildings

OOOOOHHHHH

you guys have no idea how intrigued I am at the prospect of watching Deku try to play both good cop and bad cop here lmao

anyway so Muscular says he doesn’t know, go figure

“I’m not here to make small talk or anything” he says as he small talks about not small talking

OH MY GOD DEKU

are you really gonna talk no jutsu all of these villains from now on?? that last battle really did have a profound impact on you, huh! interesting

you guys he’s really doing it omg

Deku this guy tried to murder a five-year-old literally just for fun. I mean more power to you, but holy shit you’re really gonna try to defeat Muscular with anger management therapy huh

I MEAN

WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THAT RESPONSE COMING dlkjslkjk

FUCK’S SAKE DEKU, I KNOW YOU MEAN WELL BUT THEY CAN’T ALL HAVE TRAGIC PASTS KIDDO

but. I have to admit, I do still like that he tried. probably knew just as well as we did what the end result was going to be, but still. he made the effort in good faith and I respect that

uh oh

why do I get the feeling Muscular just got a whole lot deader

oh my god oh my god he’s doing the “powering up” stance ffff don’t fucking tell me you can still use your fucking arms here, Deku

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY WHAT’S THIS??

okay so basically he’s saying that whatever it was he sensed in Tomura, he doesn’t sense from Muscular. which, yeah, that sounds exactly right. good judge of character here lol

AHHHHAHAHA YESS

WHOOPS, GET FUCKED I GUESS

WOOOOHOOOOOOOO

lmao so apparently this is the belated result of Shindou’s attack from chapter 307?? I’ll be damned. good for you Shindou!! I always liked you buddy. please just take my word on that and don’t fact check that statement

okay lol the one tiny bit of discourse I will allow is that it’s bullshit that he just did that with his right arm. like, I’ll fully acknowledge that. that makes no fucking sense, and I demand an explanation from the Great Plot Hole Filler himself. he’s never let us down before when it comes to continuity so I’m trusting him not to suddenly start now

that said, we love to see a rematch against a boring guy settled quickly and decisively within the span of a single chapter. THANK YOU

I like that Deku implies that his power is being a smart nerd who battles villains using the power of ANALYTICS. he basically didn’t do anything except restrain Muscular and wait for Shindou’s attack to take effect while halfheartedly checking to see if he regretted any of that murder and stuff

(ETA: and almost forgot to mention, he made excellent use of all four of his active SIXQUIRKS. it’s like the chapter title said; this is basically him fighting all-out, and it’s a sight to see.)

also, as cool as the mask was, this just feels right. like, we had our fun, now let us see his face, yes good

anyway, I think this was a good start towards establishing What’s Up With Deku Right Now! so if it’s all the same to Horikoshi, I would next like to take some time to explore Why’s Up With Deku. that, and What’s Up With Everyone Else, Especially Kacchan. por favor