#I’m also a little sad to hear it’s not the he fell harder trope

[adonis-koo]

no cuz when you read the whole series you realize that jude n carden are the epitome of “he fell first but she fell harder” only thing is that he’s completely oblivious in it.

So I’m right??? He VERY clearly likes her and is big mad about it 😭 I only just finished chapter 11 so at this point, while I know what you’re saying is probably factual, but I’m having such a difficult time of imagining them in a relationship at the moment.

LIKE I see the vision!! The tension is there but god do they really hate each other

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 21)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4,800

Chapter Warning: Smut. Strong language. Non-consensual elements, but not non-con.

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

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Too many things have been different lately.

Between the both of you, there had been too many silences just like this, but this time it was different.

It was different because you knew your kiss with Pietro had affected Bucky. This time the silence was because Bucky was upset.

Back at the anti-climatic ball, after your meltdown with Pietro, you both spoke for a few more minutes before you excused yourself. Pietro was disappointed at your sudden departure, but he nodded, not digging any further. Before you’d left he had given you had address and he told you you could stop by whenever you wanted. He reminded you to stay safe with a kiss on your forehead.

He didn’t pry and you appreciated that. You put your ear piece back in and Bucky had taken extra long seconds to reply. The rest of the night his responses were one worded.

You both ended up finding Silas and Ashen’s men by the corner of the bar. You had eavesdropped and was able to confirm that the delivery tonight was for a tested cure for the virus and it was going to be administered to Ashen’s son, Ashens.

It was going to arrive at the back alley way at nine, but it wouldn’t even be administered until tomorrow afternoon. Ashens would be transferred from the tower to his home.

“We’re done here.” Bucky’s voice had come from your ear piece.

“What? We’re barely done.” You responded.

“Tonight is just the delivery. What I’m interested in is tomorrow. I’ll have to stake. Let’s go home.”

“Buck-“

“Meet you back where we were.”

beep.

The short walk to your hotel had been silent. Awkward.

You knew he had heard you. You were glad he did.

He deserved to know you had a choice in this. He also deserved to know you deserved better.

But what bothered you was that you knew the kiss bothered him but he was too proud to admit it to you.

You needed him to tell you. Him glooming was not doing you well.

Bucky had been frozen to the spot as he overheard you on the other end. He could move or breathe as he heard Pietro kissing you, as he heard you moaning for another man.

He could feel the blood pumping in his head along with the sudden feeling of pure regret.

He felt regret at not taking the initiative that he should have. He knows he has no right to feel the way he does right now, but he does. He feels the heartbreak and the jealousy over you kissing someone that wasn’t him.

He had been wanting to the last two weeks. At first, he had held himself back, now allowing himself to go down that path of intimacy, but it had began to get harder.

Bucky was going crazier for you, bit by bit.

He knew what you two had was only physical, and he knows he has no right to feel the way he does especially with how he had pushed you away, but he regrets it all.

He regrets the way he handled it.

What killed him the most about Pietro kissing you though, was the fact that Pietro was clearly a better guy for you.

Something Bucky could never be.

Not that you even wanted him anymore.

It took him two months to finally want you for more than sex and you had moved on.

He couldn’t speak to you. Not when it hurt him so much. Not when you drove him crazy the way you did.

He could still feel his heart beating just as quickly as it had an hour ago. What he felt around you didn’t even compare to how he felt around Daisy.

His relationship with Daisy had been carefree and easy.

You were a hurricane.

He wishes he could tell you everything he’s feeling, but he knows it’s for the best that he doesn’t.

You both take the elevator up to your room, silently. His eyes stays on the floor, his hands in his pockets.

Look at me. You think to yourself. Tell me what you’re thinking.

After walking through the door to your room, you turn around to face him.

You couldn’t see his face. He had been quick to avoid you and he was already turning the other way, making his way towards the bed.

The bed where he took your heart many times and squeezed it his fingers.

Little did you know that you had been doing the same to his.

His silence was overbearing and your heart tore at his facial expression.

He didn’t hold that blank look he usually held when he didn’t want to show emotions.

This time he bared it all for you. His face was fallen and he was trying his best to keep it down.

You hated this silence. You hated the lack of communication that complicated this relationship.

You and Bucky no longer made any sense.

This wasn’t sex without feelings. This was far from it.

You had expected to gain so much more after your kiss from Pietro - freedom and strength. Instead, you felt confused.

He was still quiet and the tension in the loft was thick.

“What are we doing?” You asked breathlessly, breaking the ice and literally mentioning the elephant in the room.

What was this?

You watched as he loosened his black tie from around his neck, pulling it up over his sharp jaw and head.

“I don’t know.” He says quietly. His voice sounds broken, life he was on the brink of giving up.

He sits down gently, and the bed sinks down with him.

He reaches down and removes each of his dress shoes one by one. He does it slowly.

You walk up to him and stare down at him in a clouded daze of mixed emotions.

He’s stopped and reluctantly looked up at you, eyes pausing at your hands for just a moment first.

Your face showed him that you were begging him to communicate, begging him to get off his chest what he needed.

It hurt you that he couldn’t do it.

Again, he was unhappy about your kiss with Pietro and you needed him to tell you why.

Bucky’s eyes fell back to the floor and he blinked away whatever it was.

He pushed off his jacket started unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

“Go to bed, sweetheart.” He says with heavy emotion in his voice. It almost breaks off at the end with how much feeling he puts into the words.

His term of endearment shocks you to the core. Your heart swells deep within your chest. This is the first time since you’ve met him where he’s ever used this tone and addressed you this way before.

You’re gaping as you watch him continue to unbutton his shirt. His fingers were meticulously. Somehow in a dystopian and near apocalyptic word he still kept his nails trimmed and perfect.  

Something so small that could go unnoticed but that said so much about his personality.

You find yourself moving closer until his knee is touching your left leg.

You feel the heat of his body radiating off yours. You reach down and touch his hand, stopping him from unbuttoning.

He stops and swallows hard.

He could feel the heat of your fingers on his own and it makes him ache inside.

What’s happening to me?

“You want to know why I kissed him?” Bucky’s gaze stays on the floor. He doesn’t respond. No I don’t, “I wanted my first kiss to be with someone who didn’t take it for granted. For the first time, I wanted to be the one who made the correct choice,” you let go of his hand, “but you already knew that, didn’t you?” Bucky inhales deeply and returns to undoing the last few buttons. Bucky shakes the shirt off his shoulders and then stands up to go hang it in the closet. He walks right past you, not saying a word. You close your eyes tightly together, “Talk to me.” You beg.

You turn around as he’s hanging the shirt on one of the hangers.

His jaw is tight. You can tell his teeth are clenched and he’s holding whatever he wants to say, in.

He moves onto his dress pants, removing them until he’s in his boxers, and then he pulls out a pair of grey sweats, slipping them on.

He grabs a black T-shirt and puts it on, too.

He walks past you, still not looking at you.

Without thinking, you reach your arm out to grab him, and he stumbles back like you’ve burned him. You’re shocked at his reaction and your eyes go from your hands to his own eyes.  Your heart shatters immediately.

He gapes down at your hands and you can see the fear and intense sadness in his eyes.

You take a step closer to him and he gulps as you slowly bring your hand up to run over his hard torso and eventually up the side of his neck. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to keep it from trembling.

You look up into his eyes as you play with the short hair on the back of his neck.

“Please.” It’s the first time he’s also begged you in such a small voice. His eyes close halfway as he whispers, “Please, no.”

You feel the need to comfort him; to comfort this man who has done nothing but hurt you the way he’s hurting right now.

You grasp the back of his neck with your whole hand, shaking your head to yourself as you do so. His head hangs low, eyes still closed.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whisper, “what are you so afraid of?” He opens his eyes and looks away from you. He lifts his head and looks out towards the window behind you. He reaches behind his head and takes your hand, pulling it off his skin.

“Please, let’s go to sleep.”  He says softly.

You watch in a daze as he spins around and walks down the hall and into the bathroom.

He needed a moment to breathe. He needed a moment to catch his breath and think.

After splashing his face with some cold water and brushing his teeth, he walks back into the room to see you already changed into a pearl colored silk camisole.

The edges graze your thighs as you crawl up the bed and towards your pillow.

The water did nothing to help him.

He still kept hearing the way you moaned as you gave away your first kiss.

All to get a reaction out of him.

Bucky flicks off the remaining light in the loft, his lamp, and crawls into bed next to you.

He pulls the comforter up until it’s halfway up his chest and he pulls at his hair, look up at ceiling and letting out a long breath.

If only you knew the affect you were having on him. If only you knew how much he cared about you.

Your mind was else where than his.

You felt a need for vengeance. You needed him to hurt. Just like you had told Pietro, you couldn’t let him do what he was doing to you anymore. He needed to respect you and if he wasn’t going to own up to his feelings and finally speak to you, you were going to move on.

You had Pietro now, anyway.

So you had a plan.

“I want you to fuck me.” You say quietly, looking out the window.

There’s a long pause before he replied.

“I’m not having sex with you tonight.” He tells you in a quiet voice.

You flip around until you’re staring at him. He’s on his back, looking up at the ceiling, a far away look in his eyes.

How dare he be the only one to make the choice?

You spread your legs a little wider and reached down between your legs. You reached under the band of your underwear and cupped yourself.

You kept staring at the side of his face, silently asking him to look your way. He didn’t budge but you could tell he knew what you were doing. If your soft moan and the shift of the bed was any conciliation.

He blinked and swallowed thickly.

This was all he was good for now. He lost his chance and your respect, and all he was now to you was a human dildo.

As much as he wanted to tell you how he changed his mind about giving it a try and as much as he wanted to tell you how he was starting to feel, part of him was still afraid. He was afraid of his emotions getting in the way and of him losing you.

Especially when you now had a chance to be happy with someone else; someone so much better than him.

As much as he wanted your touch and your caresses, he needed to push you away. Push you into the right direction.

You were hurting him and you didn’t even know it. Him pushing you away when he needed you, pained him.

You let out another moan. He closes his eyes, turning his face away from you.

You were hurting him.

“Please, y/n.” His voice came out in a whimper.

You removed your hand from yourself, half sat up, and looked down at him. He still had that same sad look in his eyes.

Two can play that game.

You sensually dragged your fingers that had just been on your core over his bottom lip. You watch him for a reaction.

His eyes flashed to yours, stunned at your move, and you stared at your fingers on his mouth just as shocked.

Was this what anger pushed you to do? Vengeance?

You found yourself panting as you continued to touch his lips.

Slowly, he grabbed your hand. You could see what was only the lingering of tears in his blues.

There it was.

“You fucked me nearly every day for the last two months. And the one time I want you to fuck me the most, the one time, you say no.” you say quietly. He swallows thickly, “you’ve used my body for two months,” your voice shakes and he blinks, his eyes burning, “I’m just asking you to do it again. As a friend. It’s not that hard, right?”

You could feel your own words hurt in your throat at your words.

You slowly lean down, laying half your body on top of his. He closes his eyes, sucking in a shaky deep breath. You lean down until your face in the crook of his neck, on his pillow.

Bucky gulped at the proximity, feeling his heart race like mad.

“If you can’t say what you want to say, if you’re too weak for that, you can at least show me using your body.”

You ran that same hand that was touching yourself down his neck and over his chest. You find the bottom of his shirt and you slide your hand underneath, feeling his hot skin.

“I don’t want to do this.” He whispers, pained.

He almost changes his mind when he feels your hand change direction, going under his sweats.

But you stop just below his navel.

As much as you wanted to convince him and push him off the edge, you also didn’t want to breach the line of consent.

Your touch was so gentle it burned through his skin and Bucky took it in. He closed his eyes tightly together, a soft cry leaving the break of his lips.

He was crying.

You lift your face from his pillow, looking down at him to watch.

He wasn’t sobbing but there was definitely tears leaking from his eyes. One drop runs down the far corner of his eye.

He lets out a long shakey breath, still looking up at he ceiling. You feel his left hand grab the back of your head and he rubs your head. You feel his legs widen slightly and you wonder if it’s an invitation for you to continue.

The proximity of your faces shocks you when he turns his head to the side to face you.

You can feel his breath hitting your face. And you lips are only inches apart. You watch him in awe as he continues to rub your head, his eyes searching yours as another tear leaks from his blue orbs.

He rubs his nose against yours, suddenly wanting to give you everything.

When you finally take him in your hand, Bucky’s eyes close together tightly. You give him two slow pumps before you maneuver yourself so you are laying on top of him.

He watches you in a daze like you’re a siren and he’s a pirate who’s been summoned.

You stretch your hands over next to his head, taking his in your own. Your camisole is pushed up to your waist and you sloppily kick off your underwear.

He leans his head up until it’s in the crook of your neck.

“Not like this.” He says quietly. You don’t know what’s he’s talking about. You continue pushing his bottoms down until the back band is under his ass and until you see his length slip out. The tip is already oozing pre cum, now dropping onto his black shirt.

You feel the need to pour all your emotions into this fuck.

You swirl your hips and rub down until your folds are sliding over his tip, the velvety skins touching each other like two pieces if expensive silk.

Bucky involuntarily bucks his hips at the feeling.

You let out a delicious moan.

“What are we without sex, Bucky?” You whisper, breathe hitting off his forehead, “This is all we’re good for, can’t you see that?” You grunt, sliding down until he’s half sheathed inside of you, “You’ve only treated me horribly, since the day I met you. You’ve never once gave me the chance to gain your honor, oh fuck, but this, this you always knew how to take from me, to give me—“

“Stop,” he begs, breathing harshly into your neck.

“You might be a great fuck and a good friend, but you’re not a good person.” You continue to fuck yourself on his rod, rubbing your nose against his as your harsh breaths mingle together, “but that’s okay,” you put your left hand on the side of his neck, rubbing him tenderly there, “you’re good for this.”

A struggled and very loud moan escapes Bucky’s throat and you feel his right hand go to your waist, stopping you.

You put you hand on his, releasing its grip, continuing to move over him.

You watch as more tears fall out of Bucky’s eyes, his eyes snapping to yours.

“You’ve gotta stop.” He whimpers.

You can’t tell if he’s talking about the things you are saying or the fucking, but he’s a super solider and you know that if he was talking about the sex, he would’ve had more than the strength to fully stop you by now.

You purr as you look down between your legs.

“Look how perfect your cock was made for me.” You say. Bucky moans, looking down with you, his own hips pushing up to meet your down stokes, “that’s it. You hate me, don’t you?” Bucky’s hips falter and his eyes snap to your face.

“Wha—“

“That’s right, you do. I deserve this. I deserve your anger, right? Never did anything bad to you a day in my life but I still deserve it.“

Bucky was close to edge seconds ago, but with each word you’re saying, he feels the need to correct you and he no longer want to cum anymore.

This was wrong. Everything about this was utterly wrong.

“You don’t, y/n—“ He tries to tell you before you cut him off again.

You’ve never felt anger like this. Never.

“Fucking fuck me, Bucky. For just one night pretend I’m her, fuck me like I’m her.” Bucky’s heart falls hard into his stomach and he sits up, stopping.

“Stop.”

“Please.” You beg through clenched teeth, “you’ve already made me suffer enough finish the damn job.”

“Stop!” He shouts, grabbing you by the waist and pushing your off of his body.

He looked shocked as he stared down at you, his still wet tears running down his face.

“Are you serious?” You say back to him as he stands up.

He’s running his hands through his hair, pulling on the strands as more tears fall out of his eyes.

His mouth opens and closes a few times as he stares down at you, still at lost for words.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” He shouts, stumbling back.

You take a note of how his cock is an angry red, bobbing up against his belly. Catch you, he pulls his boxers and pants up all the way.

“Did I say something that triggered you?” You ask through heavy pants. How does it feel to be on the other end? You want to add.

He’s breathing hard too as he watches you. His face was crest fallen and broken.

He looks you up and down, sniffing.

“You’ve gotta stop this,” he whispers harshly, his volume growing with each word, “whatever it is you’re trying to do.”

“What am I trying to do?”

His face crumbles.

“You’re purposely trying to hurt me!” His yell stuns you, “It’s hurting me!”

You’re both trying to catch your breath as you stare at each other. “All night that’s what you’ve been doing. You think I wanted to hear you kissing him? You think I want to fuck you like this? You think I wish it went down this way?” His voice becomes a whine. He closes his eyes and looks away from you running a hand down his face.

You tilt your head as his last question.

“What went down what way?” He lets out a pained chuckle, “What way, James?”

“Forget it Im sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“What went down what way?!” You shout, banging your fist down on the bed, “You tell me right now or I swear to fucking god, Bucky, I am walking out that door right now and never coming back. I’m giving you a chance right now. Im giving you a chance to make this right.”

Your mini lecture gives him enough time to catch his breath and compose himself. It finally dawns on him and a look of disgust fills his face. He tilts his head at you.

“So that’s what this was? So that’s why you fucked me just now? To persuade me into a fucking guilt trip? This borderline non consensual—”

“—Don’t be dramatic.”

“And then you talk about you feeling used. I’m just a guy, Y/N.”

You both stared each other down. You suck in a deep breath as you take the hair tie from around your wrist and begin to tie up your hair into a bun.

“I’m so fucking over you. I really am. I was lying about the using me for sex part. It’s obviously the only time we ever communicate anyway. I do get that out of it.”

“Yeah that makes me feel so much better,” he reaches down to grab the pillow and before he can take it, you grab it, “give me the damn pillow.”

“Stop closing up on me.”

“Give. Me. The. Pillow.” You don’t budge, “I don’t have the patience for this. Especially after you almost jeopardized our entire mission with your little stunt today. Which was reckless and completely irresponsible by the way.”

“Stunt?”

“Please, you put on a fucking show as you stuck your tongue down his throat just so I could hear and then you turned off your damn ear piece. This is why I’ve always said you’ve always been a girl who acts on emotion. Give. Me the pillow.”

“You’re lying.”

His eyes twitched.

“What?”

“That’s not the deal reason you’re upset. You’re upset because I hit a nerve.”

He seethes, looking you up and down again.

“Look. What you did here tonight was the lowest of the low.”

“You don’t communicate.” You say.

“What do you want me to say, sweetheart?”

“I want you to tell me why me kissing him bothered you so much you couldn’t say one damn word to me.”

“It doesn’t matter why it does or doesn’t bother me." “Of course it matters. It means something.” “It means shit. Just because it might bother me on some level it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop you from being happy, okay? You want to go ahead and kiss and sleep with other men, that’s you doing you. We were never exclusive.” “Sure so that’s why you overreacted so much —”

“—You didn’t even give me a heads up! We had sex just an hour before you told me you were going on a date with the guy, y/n.”

“And that’s what made you cry?” After that question it goes silent. He avoids your eye and attempts to take the pillow again, “Bucky. Please.”

He licks his lips and looks up at you.

“I can’t tell you what you want to hear because it doesn’t matter anymore.” He tries to take the pillow again and this time you let him. He hooks it under your arm.

“Are you going to sleep there because of what I did to you?” He looks up at you and then looks away. He reaches over you to take one of the throw blankets, “Bucky?”

You reach over to touch his face and he flinches at first. This makes you pull away first.

“I didn’t mean to scare you or make you feel like I was taking advantage of you.” You whisper.

He looks down at your lips.

“I might be a super soldier and an ex assassin but I’m still just a man.” He says quietly. You nod, reaching for the back of head, and pulling him into you for an embrace which he gladly accepts, "You can't do that again."

He leans his forehead on your shoulder, inhaling your sweet sent.

“Please stay here tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll stay.” He gives your shoulder a kiss, “I’ll stay. I’ll always stay.” He assures you as he feels you trembling beneath him.

He pulls away, cupping your face as he does so. He looks down at you and you share a silent conversation.

This was different.

This time, he’s the one who rolls your dress up until it’s bunched around your waist.

You’re both breathing quickly as you watch him push his sweats and boxers down.

You whimper at the sigh of him, and he guides you a little lower, but you’re still halfway sat up. He runs his right hand from your core up the inside of your left thigh, widening yourself for him.

He’s knelt down between you, his lips still lingering over your shoulder. He grabs your right thigh and pulls it up so it’s bent feet down on the bed. His left hand goes to your back, right over your bottom.

You whimper again when you feel him drag his cock over your clit over and over again, and then finally down your soaking slit. His nose hits the side of yours and you’re both staring deeply into each others eyes.

“I got you,” he tells you, “I got you.” He repeats, sliding into you. His thrusts are steady and hard. He watches your face as you gasp and moan, your right hand going into his hair and pulling on it. You’re both like that for about three minutes until he lays you fully back onto the bed.

He watches as you unravel below him and he can’t imagine not living like this anymore. He doesn’t remember what he even did before you entered the picture. He doesn’t want to.

He stretches his arms around on either side of your head, keeping his thrusts steady.

“Fuck.”

“I won’t stop.” He tells you breathlessly.

You clench around him and this makes him groan loudly.

He feels his end approaching embarrassingly fast and he reaches down to give your clit some flicks.

On the fifth flick you come undone and he follows you right behind, cumming inside of you. Your legs wrap around him like a vice and he falls on of you. Both your hands run through his hair as he breaths harshly into your neck.

He doesn’t pull out of you this time and you don’t let him.

This time he falls asleep in your arms.

For you, it’s the last time.

I won't hide the ways I've tried It's just not right, it's killing me tonight

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[dramionecommentfest]

Reader Profile: Kiwi05622

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Art of Betrayal by @hathawaywrites

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[omnivorousshipper]

So we all know the lovely “Pretend to date trope” but I raise you “A couple who has to pretend that they’re not dating” (can it be shortened? Maybe) but just imagine!. Shobbs if you don’t mind.

Oh ho! This trope is just as much fun, in my opinion!!

~~~

Tightening his arms, Luke smiled harder as he brought Deckard's body closer to his. The smaller man was smiling himself as he snuggled into Luke's chest

The morning light softly filled the room and fell on the couple as they laid in bed, completely lost in each other

Luke couldn't have been happier

But slowly, his smile dropped and he let out a sad sigh

"We need to get up, princess." Luke whispered, rubbing Deckard's back

"Don't wanna." The smaller man mumbled

"We need to get going. The crew is going to wonder where we are."

Deckard let out his own sigh

"Should I get there first?"

"Yeah." Luke nodded. "We don't need them wondering why we would come together."

"Fine." Deckard grunted and got out of bed

Luke frowned as Deckard went into the bathroom. He wished they could just tell the crew, but they didn't know how they would be received

Especially by Deckard's little brother and sister

---

Walking into the meeting room, Luke's eyes immediately zeroed in on Deckard, who was sitting in between Owen and Hattie

Luke tried to ignore the longing in his heart and wanting to sit by Deckard

The meeting was led by Mr. Nobody, but Luke swore he didn't listen to a single word

All he wanted to do was sit next to Deckard and hold his hand

When they all finally took a break to work on the cars and weapons they would need, Luke tried to look for Deckard

Walking down one of the many hallways, Luke felt a hand grab at his arm and pull him into a room

"What-?"

And just as suddenly, lips were crashing against his and Luke heard Deckard's moan. Smirking, Luke grabbed back at Deckard and pulled him close and deepening the kiss

So lost in Deckard, Luke didn't hear someone walking by

Not until Deckard was pushing him away, face red and eyes filled with panic

"Deck?" Hattie asked

She was standing in the doorway, brow furrowed as she glanced between them

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah." Deckard nodded quickly. "You need something?"

Hattie narrowed her eyes

"Oh and I were going to get lunch, wanna come?"

"Sure."

Without a backwards glance, Deckard followed Hattie out, and leaving Luke all alone in the empty room

---

Taking a sip of his water, Deckard looked down at a menu. His siblings had bugged him about going to a sit down place to eat, apparently wanting to spend more time with him

Which meant trouble

"Are you shagging anyone, Deck?"

And there it was

Choking on his water, Deckard glared at Hattie as she smirked at his coughing

"What the hell, Hatts?" He hissed

"Are you seeing anyone?" Owen rolled his eyes and then looked back down at his own menu. "Why the hell do you have to be so crude?"

"Cause it's fun to see Deck's reaction." Hattie smirked harder. "And you didn't answer the question."

"Why are you asking?" Deckard questioned instead

"Why are you deflecting it with another question?" Hattie shot back

"Why are you being so insistent?"

"Why are you stalling?"

"Why-"

"Knock it off!" Owen hissed, slamming his menu on the table. "Stop the bloody interrogation tactics!"

Deckard grimaced. Owen wasn't wrong and neither was Hattie. He was stalling and using Hattie's tactics against her

But he didn't want to answer

He wasn't ready to tell his siblings he was seeing Luke

But he also didn't want them to...

"If you're not seeing anyone, then I know someone you'll like, Deck." Hattie told him

...set him up

Sighing, Deckard shook his head

"I'm not interested in dating anyone right now, Hatts."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to?"

"There has to be a bigger reason than that!"

"Would you just leave it?" Deckard hissed

"Why? Are you hiding something?"

"Hattie, I swear to Christ!"

"What? I'm just asking-"

Owen slammed his menu again

"Do I need to separate you two?" He snapped, glaring at his brother and sister

"No." They mumbled together

"Deck, just give her a straight answer. Hatts, once he does, bloody drop it." He growled at them

"So?" Hattie asked again

"I want to spend more time you guys instead." Deckard said with baited breath. By the way Hattie narrowed her eyes, she didn't believe him

She opened her mouth to argue

"Hatts." Owen hissed

She snapped her mouth close

Sighing, Deckard felt his shoulders relax

But he knew she would question him again later

~~~

I hope you enjoyed friend!!

[mydearestreaderfanfics]

Wake Me Up (Shiro x Reader)

Warnings: swearing, fake dating, reader has light anxiety

Word Count: 4,855

Prompt/Request: Shiro x femreader with the fake relationship trope?? bonus if they're childhood best friends and pining idiots

Summary: Reader has gotten herself into a bit of a pickle with a study group at school, thankfully a helpful Shiro agrees to pretend to date her to fix things. What happens when their feelings are more real than they want to pretend they are? Read and find out!

Author's Note: I don't usually write in 1st person, but I really wanted to try something new out. Readers, let me know if you liked it, please. Also, to the anon that requested this, I especially hope you like this and sorry it took so long. Bonus! If you want an enhanced reading experience go listen to the Ed Sheeran song by the same name.

Author: Mod Alex

I knew from the first time I met you that you're something absolutely spectacular. The second your family’s moving truck left, my mom was dragging me over, insistent on the fact that we needed to make the new neighbors feel welcome. I had seen you hiding behind your mom’s leg as our mothers talked. I had waved but that only seemed to make you shrink back more. You had looked so timid and scared back then, even more so when your mom told you to take me to the back so we could play. You had begrudgingly agreed, hiding behind a big oak tree. I followed unsurely. “Hey, are you okay?”

“L-mm-on.” You’d hidden your face in your knees, effectively muffling your voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

You peeked up. “Leave m’lone.”

I was taken aback but had sat down regardless. “I’m not mean y’ know. We could be friends?”

You hid her face again, but not enough to muffle your words. “Can you read?”

“Read? Um, mostly. I can’t read real big books. Oh, did you want me to read to you?” You nodded sheepishly and I grinned. “Cool! I’ll be right back, okay. You stay here.” I had run back to my house (which was right next door) and brought back my favorite storybook. “Huff… I’m back… huff… I wasn’t sure what kind of… huff… story you like, so I brought this.” I held the book out for you to see. You startled, but relaxed when you saw the book. A shy smile tugged at your lips and you nodded. So I read, and read, and read. I read until my voice began to fade away and the crickets began to sing. “Takashi, sweetie, are you out here?” In my voice that was fainter still, I bid you goodbye, before I could leave though you tugged me back to hug me briefly and ask if I still wanted to be friends. I, of course, agreed, which to this day, I believe was the best decision of my life.

I guess I must have won you over that day because you deemed me worthy of being your best friend. I was elated, of course. Sometimes we played pretend, other times we played hide and seek or tag. Sometimes we read right behind the great oak tree just like that very first day. It was the same way throughout the entire time we went to school. Sometimes, although I’d never tell you this, whenever I notice you’re having a rough day I’ll call and ask you if we can meet up under the oak tree in your backyard. I’ll read to you then, not because you can’t read (you can, beautifully if I do say so myself), but because it's tradition and because it makes you smile and goodness knows I’d do anything in the world to make you smile. Which is where we are now.

“Kashi?’ I pause, eyes leaving the page to look at you.

“Yes, (N/n)?”

Your eyes are closed, if it weren’t for the fact that you had just spoken I might have mistaken you for being asleep. It wouldn’t be the first time you'd have fallen into an easy slumber slumped against me in the shade of the mid-afternoon. “Do you think you could read me something a little different?”

“Of course!” The words left my mouth faster than I meant to let them, making me sound like an over-eager to please labrador, which I suppose when it came to you I absolutely was. You hummed happily, but the creases in your forehead indicated that something was off. “Anything in specific you’d like?”

You blinked your eyes open, sighing before picking yourself up off me to shuffle through your phone. “This?” I took the phone from you, containing my surprise from you. It wasn’t the first time you’d asked me to read you a romance, but I still couldn’t help the butterflies that would awaken in my stomach when you did. You resumed your spot leaning against me, closing your eyes again. Pushing back the urge to kiss your forehead, I began reading.

As I recited the meet-cute to you I couldn’t help but picture us; is that bad? That I can’t even read a simple story to you without picturing us as the ones sharing secrets, swapping longing glances and flirty remarks. It’s why I never choose romance novels. Because then Hazel melts away with the words into you, and suddenly it's not her telling Augustus the lines, but you telling me and I can’t handle it. I feel like I can literally hear your voice, soft and melodic reciting the lines; when I realize it’s not just my brain supplying a pining fueled fantasy, it really is you actually mumbling along with me "...As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.” And even then it doesn’t slow my heart rate because why that line? The one line that makes sense in the situation we’re in. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to my heart?

We hadn’t even gotten halfway through when I heard you sniffle. My words faltered, resuming as I tried to steal glances at you. We had yet to even get to the sad part yet, so why? Eventually, I just gave up trying to theorize what might be wrong and stopped to gaze at you. Your wellbeing was my top priority after all. That’s the whole point of us sitting here, isn’t it? “(N/n), what’s wrong?” At this point, it was evident that you were crying. Your face was pressed into my arm, but I could still hear your sniffles. It broke my heart, to see you like this. Without a thought to be flustered over the intimate gesture, I cradled the side of your face, gently urging you to look up. “Hey, now, whatever’s troubling you, we’ll get through it.” You started to cry harder and I immediately felt the syrupy trickle of guilt through my veins. Had I said something wrong?

“It’s all my fault. I’m so stupid. Why do I always have to be such a fuckup, Kashi?” You wouldn’t meet my eyes, looking down pitifully. I wiped away a tear futilely.

“Hey, don’t talk about my best friend that way.” You giggled softly at that. “Really though, you aren’t a fuckup and as far as I’m concerned you’ve never done anything to deserve the berating you're giving yourself.” You sigh, leaning against my hand mumbling quietly.

“You’re sweet. But I really did fuck up this time.”

“What happened?”

“Do you remember when I told you about my group for my Fiction Writing class…”

“Yeah?” Of course, I remembered. Out of everybody in the group, you were the only one to take the assignments seriously, not to mention the guy you mentioned that kept hitting on you- Lotor was his name. I’m not a jealous person, but the thought of someone making you that uncomfortable for their own gain gets under my skin more than I’d like to admit.

“Well, um, it's just that they, um, they got it in their head that you and I, that we’re like, an, uh, an item? I-I was trying to tell them that we weren’t but they wouldn't let me get a word in, you know? Lotor said that that was the real reason I would have to reject his advances. And it was like they started kinda teasing me and I just didn’t know what to say anymore, so I told them that, uh, they could meet you… I’m sorry, you don’t have to, of course. I should’ve just tried harder to get them to listen to me. I should just, um, I can- I’ll just send Ezor a text. Word will definitely travel then...”

I frowned, listening as you continued to go further into your own head, curling in on yourself as you did. My heart twinged, was it so bad that I kind of wanted to play along? Wouldn’t it be a win-win anyway? The group you were in were not particularly nice people from what you'd told me and playing along with it would keep them from giving you shit, and well it didn’t hurt that I’d get to pretend to be your boyfriend… it might be the only chance I get. “What if… What if we just play along? I mean we already know everything about each other. It’d be easier than finding someone else or getting harassed every time you go to class. Anyways, it’s only until the end of the quarter.” And I was being sincere, regardless of my own personal interest, I would've done it for you. I’d do literally anything for you.

You stopped talking abruptly and looked at me with a look I couldn’t quite place. “You’d do that for me?”

I grinned. “Of course. It’d make it easier on you wouldn’t it?”

“I-I guess.” You bit your lip while you thought, a habit you’ve had since we were younger. “Yeah, okay... Yeah, this could work. Are you free Friday night?”

“Friday? What time, Matt and I have that conference.”

“Right, sorry I forgot. It’s, hmmm, let me check…” A beat of silence fell over us as you checked. “9:30?”

“9:30 is perfect.”

“Great! Okay, so the group is meeting up at the Lotor’s at 8, but the ‘study sesh’ doesn’t start till 9:30. Um, it’s really more of a party but Axca is bringing her notes, so I'd have to go either way. Also, I think they want to prove you are my boyfriend or whatever so…. Yeah.”

“I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can get something to eat before then. I have to take care of my girlfriend after all.” I was joking but saying it still made the butterflies stir up again.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Sure, sure. See you then, boyfriend.”

-

I’d gotten more dressed up than I may have needed to considering we were going to a college party, but I wrote it off on wanting to look good for the act we were about to put on, after all, it had to be believable right? And well it wasn’ too dressy, just nice. I didn’t look nearly as good as you, of course. When I picked you up, I’d nearly stumbled over my words. I felt like a teenager again, picking up my date for prom. You laughed when I offered you my arm, taking it anyway even though we didn’t have to put on the act just yet. “You like nice, are you ready to go?”

“As ready as I'll ever be," You fiddled with your jacket as you smiled shyly at me, "and thanks, you look good too."

My skin buzzed with a pleasant electricity at the compliment. “Thank you. Well hey, look at the bright side at the least we go eat now. I'm starving, the conference didn't break for lunch thanks to Matt.”

You laughed and I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips, you looked so beautiful and carefree. “Alright, Mr. Matt-Didn’t-Feed-Me, where are we gonna eat at?”

“I was thinking Rover’s?”

We had started walking to my car, at least we were until you stopped in your tracks. “Rover’s? Isn’t that place kind of on the up-and-up?”

“Sure it is.”

“Won’t that be… kinda pricey. Shiro, I don’t think I can- I’ve got textbooks and supplies I still have to get for next quarter.”

I waved my hand, turning to grin at you. “I don’t remember saying I was going to make you pay.”

You huffed looking somewhere between uncomfortable and flustered. “I’m not letting you dump a ton of money on me.”

“Hey, look, I just got a bonus, alright. Let me take us out to dinner. We’re always talking about how we want to go there, so let’s just do it. I promise you there is nothing I want to spend my money on more.”

You grumbled, and before I knew it you had yanked me into a hug. “You are way too good to me.”

I let myself chuckle as I wrapped my arms around you in return. “No way, you deserve it.”

-

At Rover’s we had to park a little ways away. “Hi, we have a reservation for 8.”

The host smiled pleasantly looking at the screen in front of them. “Shirogane?” I nodded. “ Right this way.”

“You tricked me!” You whisper yelled at me as we followed the host.

“I did no such thing.”

“You didn’t tell me you already reserved a spot here.”

“It’s the only way to get in. Although I will say, I’m glad you agreed before we got here.”

You gently socked my arm and I acted hurt, sticking my tongue out playfully. “You ass.” Your broad grin betrayed your words, showing just how excited you were to be here.

"Name-calling, that’s not nice, (N/n). And to think I brought you here-”

“Oh my god, shut up you nerd.”

“Your table.” The host had stopped, watching the both of us with an amused expression. He was older, nearing his late fifties surely. “I remember when my husband and I were your age. We were just like you.”

I laughed, somewhere between disbelief and absolute delight. “Thank you, sir.” I heard you splutter, masking it as a cough. While the host began to walk away I winked at you. “We have to get into character, right?”

-

Dinner was spectacular, although we could have been at a Denny’s and I still would have had a great time with your company. That’s not to say going to Rover’s was overrated, it really was as good as we thought it would be. You seemed so carefree, it was nice to see you free of your usual anxious demeanor. That was a far stretch from how you looked now as we drove to an exclusive party that you had no want to go to. You were practically white-knuckling in the car. My hand found yours, the other still planted firmly on the steering wheel. I gave it a gentle squeeze. You didn’t say anything, but the squeeze you returned to my hand told me more than any words would have anyway. It was one of my favorite things about our friendship, we knew each other better than anyone else, no words necessary.

The house spanned almost a block, with a smattering of people, all in varying states of drunkenness, across the lawn and flocking in through the wide set of French doors. I got out first, moving to open your door, before offering my arm. “Oh my god, you cheeseball.” You took my arm gingerly despite your words, letting your hand slip down to mine once we started walking. Before we made it in I made it a point to stop you, leaning down towards your ear, letting you hear me over the loud thrumming from the music inside.

“I won’t let us get separated, okay, so don’t worry.” I paused for a moment trying to articulate my thoughts in the least embarrassing way. “And, I don't know how far you're comfortable with taking the act. I know we didn't talk about it too much, so if anything happens and you're uncomfortable let me know and I'll figure a way out of it, okay? Is there anything you want to avoid?" My face was burning, asking was important to avoid causing you any unnecessary panic, but it still felt odd asking what the limits of our fake-relationship were. When I pulled back enough to hear your response, you were just as flustered as I was.

“If the situation calls for it, almost anything. And I'll only go through with it if you’re okay with it too. Can we go inside?” Your voice, even as close to me as it was, was just barely over a whisper, your nerves evident. It reminded me of my own voice, ripe with longing in so many conversations we had had and I entertained the thought, even if only for the briefest of moments, that maybe you were pining for me too.

The inside of the house made the front lawn look like the prohibition. People were passed out at random parts of the room, narrowly avoiding the houseguests who were in the middle of sloppy make-outs. The whole thing felt like it was ripped from a cheesy teen film. You were still holding my hand, having taken the lead to drag me through the house to the enclosed back deck where people thankfully seemed to be a little soberer.

“(Y/n), you were able to make it good, and oh- I knew you two were a thing, although I will say I’m surprised.” Lotor’s posh voice rang clear through the chatter and although he didn’t outright say it, his meaning hung heavy in the air: he was demeaning you, saying he was surprised you’d managed to be dating me. Just another tactic to lower your self-worth enough for him to go in for the kill. I hated guys like that, who thought that 'negging' was an appropriate way to win someone over. Besides that, the idea was stupid and I wanted to tell him off, I’d die happy if you ever decided to grace me with being my girlfriend, for him to even insinuate that I was too good for you was absurd.

“I'm Shiro, nice to meet you. (N/n), has told me all about you all, it’s good to finally be able to put a face to the name.” I laughed hollowly, enough to give the random passerby the idea of a friendly interaction but cold enough to let Lotor know I didn't appreciate what he was doing, at least I hoped it did.

“Oh my goodness! So you and her are actually dating?!” A bubbly girl came over, hair in a long reddish-pink ponytail and with a drink in her hand; it was definitely not her first. Lotor threw her a look that screamed: "shut up". SHe didn't even notice.

I smiled warmly, squeezing your hand. “We are. For a while now actually. I honestly thought it was common knowledge?” I laughed, hoping she bought it. Her eyes widened, lips forming an ‘o’.

“Wow! I actually had no idea.” She leaned over to you, winking. “Nice catch. Axca is over there by the way, but you should stay a while. Y’know- eat, drink, be merry.” She giggled before swaying back over to a group of people she had been talking to.

“Come on, I need to talk to Axca.” You pulled me along by the hand, maneuvering through the crowd uneasily. I drew closer to you, hoping the close proximity eased your nerves the same way it eased mine. When we finally stopped, you stayed tucked under my arm, making warm contentment spread through my chest.

“(Y/n), Ezor sent you my way, I presume?” A girl with electric blue hair and a dark jacket sat on a relatively untouched sofa in the corner on her phone, her bag slung next to her.

“Yeah. I’m glad she didn’t send me on a wild goose chase. You have the notes, right?” She nodded but made no move to take them out. You shuffled next to me, words tumbling out of your mouth to fill in the silence that had stretched on for an uncomfortable amount of time. “Can I please have them? Parties aren’t really my scene…” After another beat of silence you continued, “... and Shiro and I already had plans so… yeah.” This caught Axca’s attention, her eyes darting from the screen of her phone to meet your eyes.

“Oh? So you’re still pretending?” She said it without a hint of amusement as if genuinely puzzled.

“Pretending?” You practically squeaked the word out before continuing, quickly covering up your shock. “What in the world are you talking about?”

Axca looked between us. “There’s no trace of you two being together in your online presence. The four of us all figured you were faking. Almost none of us actually thought you were dating him, Ezor just wanted to get a rise out of you and Lotor…” She paused, deciding that what she was going to say was better left unsaid. “So you two really have been dating? You don’t make it too obvious.”

I could practically feel you fuming beside me. “Just because we don't flaunt it like some Insta-couple doesn't mean we haven't been dating.” Axca shrugged, fixing you with a disbelieving and uninterested look. “I mean, really! Isn’t it bad enough that you all tease me all the time!? Now you’re trying to catch me in a lie that you all set up?!” You were shouting, the weeks worth of subtle bullying finally boiling over. It was garnering the attention of party-goers nearby.

“What’s going on?” A tall girl with curly space buns spoke, Ezor was leaning heavily against her side. She radiated intimidation and I felt you shrink against me. Still, you held your ground.

“You all set me up and I don’t appreciate that. Especially since Shiro and I are actually dating and he went out of his way to be here to prove as much to you all.”

“Is that so? Axca what did you find out?”

“Not much. They’re all over each other’s pages, but it’s not necessarily romantic.” She tossed the tall girl, Zethrid if my memory of your description was right, her phone.

Zethrid looked over the contents of the phone before laughing. “Prove it then, (Y/n).”

“That’s enough. I’m not just going to let you all taunt her while I stand here. Axca, was it? (N/n) is here for the notes you have. If you would kindly hand them over. As she's already told you all we have plans and I’d rather not have to postpone the date I planned with my girlfriend because you all think making fun of her is fun.”

“Is that so?” Lotor came strolling from behind us, a fourth woman leading him. She stood quiet, her gaze piercing.

I turned to him. “Yeah. It is.”

“Go on then, Prince Charming. If you love, (Y/n) so much, then why don’t you do something to prove it. Otherwise, I'm sure there's someone who could make her much happier.” He spared a glance at you.

"She's not a prize to be won-" I looked over at you, you’d taken to squeezing my hand. As I turned you grabbed me by the collar and before my brain had a moment to register what was happening you’d pulled me down to press a kiss to my lips. My mind raced and after a second for my mind to process what was happening, I wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you closer as we kissed. You were the first to pull back, a shy smile gracing your lipstick smudged lips. A whistle sounded in the back, along with some cat-calls. You didn’t seem to care, and honestly, I knew how you felt. It was like a bubble was around us as I leaned down to kiss you again.

I would have kissed you until the sun came up and the crowd dispersed but an arrogant voice broke through the haze. “Alright, we get it!” When we broke apart, Lotor stood silently fuming. “Axca give her the notes so they can leave.”

“But I thought-”

“Just give her the notes.” Axca did, fishing a perfectly labeled folder from her bag and handing it to you. As she did, Lotor moved

towards you with a barely hidden sneer on his face as he leaned down to whisper something to you. Clutching the folder, you jogged back over to me, taking my hand in yours as you did.

We made it outside, walking down the sidewalk to the car. The voices and blaring music fading quickly behind us. “Are you okay?”

You hadn’t looked at me, much less answered. We sat in silence even as my question hung in the air. “You kissed me.”

“What? I thought we agreed... You pulled me-”

“The first would’ve proven enough. But you kissed me a second time. Why?”

I couldn’t discern the odd tone of your voice. I felt jumpy all of a sudden. “I just- we had to convince them-”

“Was it just an act then?” You turned to me, tears quickly polling in your eyes. Guilt stung at my heart, I’d been selfish, thinking that maybe your feelings were the same as my own and instead I’d made you uncomfortable and confused. You deserve the truth at the least.

I took a slightly ragged breath. There were a million ways to tell you that I’d loved you since we were nothing more than two kids sitting with a book in our laps behind a tree, hell I’d even imagined it a handful of times, and yet not once did I think this would be how you'd find out. “No. No, I- I shouldn’t have done this. It’s never been an act, not for me at least. I never meant for it to go this far but then you kissed me and I thought- I should have realized it was just for the act. I’m sorry, I fucked up. You have every right to be mad at me, but please if there’s any way that we can still be friends. I don’t want to lose you.” I was rambling, but I couldn’t find the right words and I couldn’t fix it- couldn’t make the harsh feeling of rejection leave or take my actions back.

“Shiro.” Your hand came to cup my cheek, stopping me in my tracks. “Slow down. Let me get this right, you were never acting?” Your eyes glanced between mine as if searching for the truth. I nodded. “So you really wanted to take me on a date and kiss me?” I nodded again, trying to dip my head to hide my blushing features. The hand cupping my cheek stopped me. “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you felt like this?”

I swallowed thickly. “How long? Um… yes?" A strained, nervous laugh escaped me, "I mean, I can’t even think of a time when I didn’t. M’sorry.”

I chanced a glance at you to see your reaction. I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be barely holding back a fit of giggles. Ouch. You must have seen me cringe because you quickly stopped. “Sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just, god, you mean to tell me we could have been doing this so much sooner?”

“I- what?” I couldn’t let myself believe what I was hearing. You rolled your eyes good-naturedly.

“You and I could have been dating for years now. Are we both seriously such disasters that we’ve literally been pining for each other for years?!” You sounded incredulous and I found myself laughing in disbelief along with you.

“I guess you’re right. So does that mean that we can…” My words faded away as we leaned towards each other.

“Please?” Your words ghosted over my lips, teasing me for what was only seconds away. In the warmth of the car we kissed, it was the same but different than the kisses from before. The same subtle taste of your cupcake chapstick and yet it was so much… More. Maybe it was because we both knew it was what we wanted or maybe it was just the knowledge that I would be allowed to do this again and again and again, but the feeling of kissing you was intoxicating, a sensation that I knew I would never be able to get enough of.

-

It had only been a week since we went to the party and confessed, but everything still seemed so perfect. Ironically, very little had changed. You were still my best friend, after all. We were sitting in our usual spot, I was reading out an original piece of yours, both to revise/edit it at your request and because I had been dying to read it. I’d finished it, marking out a few editorials and encouraging notes on the margins of the paper. As I wrote a thought came to mind. “I've been wondering something.”

“Oh?”

“What had Lotor said to you that night?”

You rolled your eyes, huffing with annoyance. “He said that when I had my heart broken by you that he’d be there for me to come groveling back to.”

“What a prick.”

“Right?”

“For the record, I will never break your heart.” You laughed.

“Thanks for the reassurance, casanova.”

“No problem, my love.” I grinned as your teasing expression gave way to a flustered one. You slipped your hand into mine, hiding your face on my arm.

“Mm-uff-oo.”

I chuckled, some things never changed. “I have no idea what you just said.”

You pulled back just enough to be heard. “I said, I love you.”

I smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you too.”

[victuurikatsu]

Victor loved everything that stories had to offer. He loved the way certain tales could leave you at the edge of your seat, how it could make you gasp in delight, how it could make you clutch at the edges of a couch cushion in honest to God anger, and even how it slowly chipped away at a careful guard laced around his heart. No matter what emotions were felt, he stayed invested enough to keep flipping through the pages of each novel he ever picked up.

Some of his favorites were tragic romances, and honestly he didn’t know what brought him in more: the underlying notion that despite how much you loved someone sometimes that simply wasn’t enough or the circumstances that would cause these lovers to separate to begin with. Overall, Victor would take to heart that no matter what came their way, they still chose to love each other in spite of it all, and that instantly brought tears to his eyes. How could one feel so much for such little return? Why would anyone long and pine for someone with so much of their heart and soul just to have it ripped from their hands?

“Vitya, what did I tell you about reading these books before a competition, you know how you get!” Yakov barked at him, an incoming lecture in the horizon.

Victor hadn’t realized tears were gently forming like crystals at the corners of his eyes as he was reading “Tristan & Isolde” Something about their longing, their devotion, the impossible circumstances that made it harder for them to be together, but against all odds they still fell for each other, that type of love that felt real to him. It made Victor’s heart race before promptly crushing it when he got to the end. The tears rushed down his pale face like a leaky faucet that could not be repaired despite how hard you tried to tighten up the source and he decided that year he wanted to incorporate a program that was based on the story alone.

“Yakov, can I try to skate to this piece from Tristan Und Isolde?” Victor prompted, feverishly typing in the name orchestral piece that accompanied the story.

It was the first year Victor performed his version of what he thought love must have been, though he had never experienced it to the fullest extent. It was also the first year, where the world was aware of how much they wanted to be the ones to mold and shape Victor’s heart. They wanted to take care of him, assure him that he would never come to any harm because who would dare to ever break Victor Nikiforov’s heart?

He wouldn’t be able to figure that out until he hears three words that always felt like a stab in his heart when he read it in his books. Poor Victor would never have been able to surmise that years later he would find that as much as he thought it hurt to read, it hurt even worse being uttered from the one he had come to love irrevocably, “Let’s end this.”

Just like in his stories, it was a punch in the gut. But unlike reading the stories and living through the eyes of the protagonist, he found that was at the center of it all. He couldn’t turn to another page to jump forward and see how it would end. And he became petrified of the ending. His books never told him that there were ever happy endings in situations like these. How could he let go of the one who ignited his inspiration, his passion, and his ability to truly love?

How could he say goodbye to those honey brown eyes, the ones that changed depending on the light, that let Victor know even an inkling of what he was thinking because Yuuri Katsuki was an endless world that he needed to explore and know to him. He was the prose he wanted to wrap up in after a hard day. The comfort he needed when he craved an escape, the one that against all odds he would be able to love and hold onto because their story was different. It had to be. There was no way he could let their story die in Barcelona, there was no way he would become yet another tragic trope in a sea of many.

Victor thinks back to that moment in Barcelona months after its ended, often the memories creep up when he’s alone for too long. This typically happens when he’s up brewing a pot of coffee and finds himself in a daze from the longer hours he’s been putting into both coaching and staying vigilant in his competitive training. He’s grateful to still be coaching, he’s grateful to be able to feel the air filling up his lungs and gently cascading out of his mouth. He’s grateful to feel his heart steadily beating, feeling absolutely full. He’s grateful to feel the same familiar tears bubbling up and escaping down his eyes. And that’s when he’s surprised for what felt like the thousandth time in months when strong arms coil around his waist, a flourish of heated cheeks resting on the crook of his shoulders.

“Mm, Vitya, good morning.” Yuuri sleepily murmured.

Victor doesn’t have enough time to wipe away at his tears and simply turns around with a flourish. Alarming the man as he holds him tight and close to him as he lets the tears fall down completely. He is unguarded, he is open, he is vulnerable, but he trusts Yuuri to take everything he has to give. He trusts Yuuri to know exactly what to do and say. Yuuri naturally is alarmed at first, quickly pulling slightly away to view Victor’s face, dabbing away at the stray droplets and finding that despite the crying he’s smiling.

“I’m not sad, I promise.” Victor finally declared, pressing his forehead against Yuuri’s.

“Did you have a bad dream then? Are you hurt?” Yuuri asked cautiously, waiting for Victor’s answer to know what to do next. To be whatever he needed at that moment, to do what he could to make him feel better.

Victor shakes his head before cupping Yuuri’s face in his hands, “I’m overwhelmed from the love I have for you. Grateful that our story hasn’t ended and that there’s still so much to tell. A whole world filled with you has brought me enough happiness to last three lifetimes. And the way I’m dealing with that is by crying.”

He feels silly at this point, not knowing what else to say. The notion brings a scarlet blush to Yuuri’s cheeks clear as day, and all he can think to do is perk up on his toes and capture Victor’s lips in his. Of course he loved him, how could he not? Of course there was still much to unfold for them, perhaps this lifetime simply wasn’t enough to hold it all, but it’s what they had to work with and he wasn’t going to give that up for anything. 

Victor can’t help but think that this kiss rivaled any that he had ever read in his books. The kind that always left the protagonist in a tizzy because they are filled with a resolution so pure that nothing else would ever compare. And that’s what his love for Yuuri and vice versa was for him, nothing could ever compare. He didn’t need his stories to tell him what most emotions were like anymore because he experienced new ones every day in their life together that was still unfolding.

(Inspired by @nikiforoov crying Vitya art) 

[spaceorphan18]

Glee Season 1 Wrap Up (Part 2)

Alright - let’s do this and see if I can actually manage to be concise, lol.  So, I wrote up a ranking - now I’m kinda looking at arcs as a whole.  It’d be too hard to rank those, so I’m just talking a little about each. 

Front 13 v Back 9

It’s no secret that I prefer the Back 9 episodes over the first batch.  The Front 13 focuses so heavily on the two love quadrangles - at the expense of pretty much everything else, that I get bored really easily.  And - dare I say - the Front 13 might actually be my least favorite part of the show.  Yes, that’s right, I’d rather watch Season 3 again (lol).  

The Front 13 does have things going for it - it’s very funny (on it’s first run - subsequent viewings don’t always help).  It’s tightly written.  The stories make sense (well as much as a fake baby makes sense).  And it’s good, solid television.  I can see why people fell in love with it.  But - as you may have noticed in my rankings, I have a hard time being bored, and now that I’ve seen the show a million times, I get bored too easily.  

I will say - having some distance from watching the episodes, and doing it at a weekly pace, helps me enjoy it more.  The episodes feel fresher, and as much as I whine, I still had fun with the rewatch of the F13.  

Meanwhile, the Back 9 just comes alive.  The show gets a bit crackier, the focus shifts more to the kids, and the pace speeds up.  But you know what else I noticed? As the show develops the characters a bit more, I feel like there’s a bit more emotion running through the Back 9.  I know we joke about Glee being one big cartoon, but the F13′s humor was often darker humor related to stereotypes.  By the B9 - the characters get to be fleshed out more, and become more like real people - and I dig that more than the dark sitcom-ish vibe of the F13.  

Kind of as aside, not really sure where to add this, one thing I find interesting about season 1 is that it seems to be this show that’s simultaneously trapped in the 80s, while still being relevant on current events - and very much being a product of the 2010s.  That aspect of it makes it a bit unique and nostalgic at the same time, and it’s a super fascinating way to look at the show.  

Will as a Problem of the Narrative

Look, we all know Will is a problem -- the ‘I Hate You Will’ meme is prevalent within fandom.  You would think that the first season would make him a bit more sympathetic since he is the original main character.  I mean kinda - but he’s still frustratingly selfish, nearsighted about everyone else around him, and, well, just not that great.  

But after doing some thinking, I came to the realization -- this is an issue with American television in general -- adult characters are not allowed growth.  Think about it.  In high school shows, the kids grow up, learn, and change.  But when we watch adults, more specifically adults in sitcoms, - the writers hit the reset button.  Did the characters of Friends really change all that much in the ten years they were on the show?  Or Modern Family? Or The Big Bang Theory? I mean - there will be slight changes, but nothing major.  (Some writers do - both The Office and Parks and Rec show growth in their characters, but I also think those are better sitcoms for it.)  

Anyway - my point is that Will falls victim to the fact that for the sake of conflict, he doesn’t really get any kind of character growth that sticks, and that what makes his character so hard to watch - even in season one.  

In addition, instead of framing Will as a teacher who loves teaching, they frame him as a performer who never made it out of Ohio, and is frustrated with never having gotten out of the place he grew up.  And while there’s some reality in that -- I’m still side-eyeing the show any time they give him accolades for being a great teacher.  

Also, there’s the whole ‘Be a Man’ thing that Will gets saddled with.  But...more on that later.

To no one’s surprise - Will being front and center most of the time amplifies all these issues leading to me not really caring much about the story and hence boredom.  

Will/Emma/Ken/Terri & Finn/Rachel/Puck/Quinn -- a Redundant Love Story for The Ages

It’s basically the same story only time displaced - with a chance for the high school kids not to make the same mistakes as the adults.  The adults being a cautionary tale.  Funny, I think the kids, at some points, are more mature about what’s going on in their relationships than the adults.  

Outside the satirical nature of it - I find it all kind of tedious to sit through, tbh, and as I said before, what makes the F13 kind of hard at times.  I realize I’m supposed to care about these relationships.  Guess what - I don’t.  

However -- Glee and it’s parallels.  Damn.  There’s, like, an entire thesis paper waiting to be written about these Quadrangles and how Glee masterfully pulls off writing the same story twice at the same time.  

Also worth noting, the two Quadrangles both embody two of the main themes of season one: 1. Be a Man and 2. It’s Okay to Be a Loser (or the HS Hierarchy Stuff) 

I don’t know why the show needs to prove so hard what being a real ‘man’ is - especially when the real men of the show don’t usually have to deal with this stupid trope, but I find myself rolling my eyes every time it gets brought up.  And the focus isn’t a favorite of mine -- unfortunately, another point against the F13.  

Meanwhile - I was never really interested in the whole HS Hierarchy stuff, and what it is to be cool.  Geez, now I’m being redundant as I continue to say that the themes brought up in the F13 just don’t interest me at all.  Good thing there was all this music to keep me distracted...  

Ken and Terri & Puck and Quinn - Mean Girls

Ryan Murphy has this weird obsession with awful popular people.  I don’t know why.  I don’t think it’s as interesting as he does - but I’m guessing he had some deep issues with these people in high school because this trope is used outside of Glee and in abundance.  

Something I think is interesting though - going back to my point about Will.  Ken and Terri don’t get to be more than the stereotypes that they are.  And because they’re probably (possibly) the most annoying characters on the show - the writers had enough sense to drop them after after the F13.  But I do think it’s interesting, also, that Ken and Terri are the real ‘losers’ of the show -- and they’re the ones who were popular in high school.  The point is made pretty loudly, but I never hear people talk about it much.  

Meanwhile, Puck and Quinn are pretty much on the road to being Ken and Terri - but the show, probably knowing these characters needed to stick around, got the growth and development that Ken and Terri didn’t, and even in season 1, seeds of - they’re not going to turn out to be as ‘loser-ish’.  

I don’t really care all that much about Puck or Quinn, but I will say they were pretty unwatchable (for me) in the F13, and they became much better characters in the B9.  Though, helping this is the fact that neither gets a whole lot to do.  But they soften both of them to make the more likable - and it works, I don’t mind them so much in the B9.  

Emma - The Non-Main Character

I love Emma - and it’s weird to me that she isn’t more of a main character (I mean she is in season 1, but that fades quickly).  It’s great that they have female character, good at her career, but struggling a bit in her personal life, and who has a mental health issue to deal with but is still seen as desirable.  I also love the fact that she has issues with sex.  There’s a lot of great things with Emma. I’m just sorry she’s tied to Will for the entire show, because she’s smart and likable and one of the few really ‘good’ characters on the show.   I’m sad that she doesn’t get to do much outside of being accessory in Will’s story.  It’ll change a little in season 2, but not much.  :( 

I don’t really have much to say about Wemma.  It starts out as a standard will-they, won’t-they but it doesn’t pull my attention much.  I will say that the final moment of Sectionals, however, is a beautiful moment -- and the Glee, when it wants to, has the ability to pull off some fantastic romantic moments.  

Sue Sylvester - Comedy Villain in a Realistic World

It’s no surprise that when you have a very talented and funny Jane Lynch on your show, you’re going to do what you can to give her a fair amount of material.  I get that.  And I give season 1 credit -- Sue might be one of the funniest characters on the show in season 1.  She worked as the villain and as a counter to Will, as well as allowing the show to have a mouthpiece for things they felt the main characters couldn’t say.  It worked.  She worked.  Jane Lynch worked.  

My issues with Sue are more with later seasons, when they run out of things to do with her, and make a fourth-wall breaking farce, but I’ll save that rant for later.  

I will say - I do enjoy her humanizing interactions with her sister and with Becky, and it’s a shame the show didn’t latch on to that more often.  Because Sue got hit with the reset button harder than any other character.  

Finn & Finchel

Finn is pretty much tied to Will in every season, but season 1 is in much abundance.  Fortunately, Finn fares better than Will does.  Finn needing a father figure, and direction, is more sensical than Will using Finn as a way to relive his youth, while treating Finn simultaneously as a best friend and son. I don’t think I like Finn all that much, but Cory Menteith is incredibly endearing -- and makes me care a bit more than I actually would.  Finn is, perhaps, the most rounded character to begin with - and shows more competence as a leader than Will ever does.  It’s funny, to me, for as much as these two are paralleled, Finn getting to grow and have an actual arc makes him much more interesting.  

Finn also has the benefit of having a more complete world around him -- his story isn’t stuck in the Quadrangle, his stories outside of it (mostly with his Mom and Kurt, but also the more fleshed out story with Rachel) make it much more interesting.  

So yeah.  Go season 1 Finn!  

Also - they were definitely setting up Finn to grow through this series long arc of hating being in a small town to being okay that that is his lot in his life.  (And it is sad we didn’t get to see that play fully out.)  Because unlike Will -- who kind of hates that he’s never moved on, Finn seems to come full circle rather nicely.  

So Finchel.  Believe it or not, I think Finchel is quite endearing in season 1.  And -- dare I say -- I like it more in the F13 than the B9.  I’ll always prefer Finchel as a story about two high schoolers who learn from each other in HS, but move away from each other later in life, and that Finn and Rachel, ultimately, don’t have a whole lot in common, but there moments in early s1 are sweet, and there’s a bit of chemistry there that I don’t see later on in the show.  

I can even pinpoint when I start to really not care about Finchel -- in Hello, between the introduction of Jesse St. James and making Finn kind of a douche (or paralleling him a little too close to Will).  But in the meantime, I can honestly say that Finchel was one of the more enjoyable parts of season 1.  Weird huh. 

Rachel Berry - Before They Were Stars

Another aspect of season 1 that I liked? Rachel Berry.  Before the show started handing her things on a platter because she /was/ Rachel Berry -- Rachel was a character you could root for.  No, she wasn’t the most likable character on the show, but she struggled, and we saw that she worked hard to get things.  She was also uncompromising in her desires - something not often shown as a) positive or b) in women.  

Also helping her out is that she gets to have a story arc outside (or maybe beyond is a better word) the Quadrangle.  She has developed relationships with pretty much everyone on the show and that helps her be a well rounded character.  

As an aside -- it’s interesting to me, for as much as everyone is paralleled with everyone else on the show, I don’t see a whole lot of parallels between Rachel and Emma.  There are some, both of them wanting someone they feel they can’t have, both of them wanting things too much, and both feeling like outsiders.  But I feel like those are generalizations of two vastly different characters.  Interesting.  

Mercedes, Artie, and Tina - The Back Up Singers

It’s funny to me -- that when the show was first airing, Mercedes, Artie, and Tina (and Kurt - but more on him in a minute) were used a lot in ads.  These actors did a lot of press, etc, etc.  And the whole notion of the show being for kids who didn’t fit in was a big angle for marketing.  So, it’s interesting that the F13 barely features any of them.  But I do think they are much more interesting than the Parallel Quadrangles.  Each of these characters has a unique set of characteristics - and yeah, a lot of it stemmed from stereotypes, which were fleshed out more in the B9.  But I appreciate these characters even being around - because if they weren’t there, the show would be (IMO) pretty bland.  

Interestingly, in the B9, each of these three do get their fair share of screentime and development.  Unfortunately, they don’t make it out from the ranks of the B-list characters (idk - there might be some irony there).  But they’re good characters, Mercedes especially, and I do enjoy them more than a lot of what’s going on with the A-plot.  I’m just sorry they never really got out of the shadow of the rest of the other characters.  

Kurt Hummel - Scene Stealer

Obviously, Kurt’s story in season 1 is my favorite story arc.  I’m sure anyone who has been to my blog could have guessed that in about two seconds.  And elsewhere is fully documented why.  His relationship with being different, and how that ripples in his personal life - with family and friends - and how he deals with that is a fantastically told story, not to mention one having a ton of heart and care.  I love Kurt, and season 1 Kurt gets to have such wonderful development, and it’s only the first portion of a much larger story of a really fantastic character.  

But here’s my thing about Kurt.  He wasn’t a part of the original story.  And because of that, a lot like Rachel, having his own story and his own development - he’s not locked into being apart of a boring and/or tired story (re: Quadrangle).  He somewhat exists outside the main narrative (though obviously has his ties within) and I think that really helps his character stand out in season 1.  But I also think it’s interesting that this character, who in the first incarnation was much of a stereotype, got to break free first, and is one of the best written characters on the show.  

He’s also so damn entertaining.  Giving the character life in the background is an art - but I should gush about Chris Colfer’s acting later.  

But in all honesty - I probably wouldn’t have kept watching this show without Kurt.  His story (like to so many others) reminds me of my own in a lot of ways.  And I think he was resonant with so many people in a way that a lot of the other things going on in season one weren’t.  He helped give the show depth and emotion, and helped it grow beyond the cartoonish dark comedy of early season 1.  There are a lot of things I enjoy about season 1, but I love Kurt’s story, and I probably wouldn’t be sitting here still talking about it if it weren’t for Kurt. 

Brittana and other Background Stories

One of the things stemming out of being bored with the main plot lines is that one has a tendency to gravitate towards what’s going on in the background.  Most shows - it’s not much.  Glee -- has a plethora of stuff going on.  Kurt gets a lot of the credit (rightfully so), but there’s a ton of interesting things happening. 

Brittany and Santana don’t get enough credit for their early season 1 stuff.  They have virtually nothing to do - but they’ll nail one-liners and/or do fascinating stuff sitting there in the background.  One reason they became such prevalent characters, and they start to become those starting with the B9, is because they’re doing things that people take notice of.  

Santana’s still too mean in season 1 for me, though layering over the fact that she’s a closested lesbian makes for a more interesting story upon rewatch, and Brittany really isn’t much of a character as she is a walking one-liner machine, but both characters make themselves visible in a huge cast - and I have to give them a lot of credit for that.  

Meanwhile at the other end of things are Mike and Matt.  Interestingly, I think Mike does seem to have more of a personality, and more of a presence, as well as a great acting ability, that helped him come out from the shadows a bit -- whereas Matt completely faded into the background to the point that I often forgot he was there.  It’s no surprise to me that Mike became a bigger character while Matt left before season 2.  

Guest Starring - Broadway Role Call

I can’t say that I’m really that attached to any of the guest stars on the show - but something I give Glee credit for in season one is grabbing guest stars who have ties in with Broadway.  And I think that’s a pretty cool route to go.  I may have not liked their characters all that much, but at least they can sing, and I can enjoy that.  :)  

Except Molly Shannon.  I still don’t get that.  

Jukebox Musical

So, obviously, music plays a huge part of this show.  I’ve talked other place about how music is used differently in the F13 vs the B9 (check out TDB’s Music of S1 special!) so I won’t get into that here.  

Season 1 probably has the lowest amount of songs from it on my play list - there’s just a lot of pop music I don’t really enjoy, and Will rapping, and just stuff I’m not really into.  Not to mention a lot of the music is Rachel, Finn, and Finn and Rachel heavy (which isn’t a sound I’m really into). 

 But I think one thing season 1 does right is how it uses it’s music.   And it’s interesting to see all the creative ways they try to be realistic about how they use music on the show.  Not to mention, each of the episodes didn’t have the mandated 5-7 songs, which left time for both the music and the story to breath.  

And then starting in the B9 - they began to get more creative in how they integrated music within the story.  

On a Macro Level

Season 1 is probably the most consistent the show ever is written, and possibly, has the best straight up comedy.  But the extreme focus on paralleling Quadrangles, the ‘Be a Man’ trope, and the whole ‘loser’ main themes kinda bore me (personally).  

Kurt’s story, all the b-characters, background moments, and music I’m here for, in the F13, and I can kinda leave all the rest.  The B9, though, gets us into the style of the rest of the series, and I’m here for that.  

[sfw-haikyuu-nsfw]

Would it be possible to ask you to do a scenario or headcannons with bokuto, kuroo, suga, and oikawa comforting their transgender female to male boyfriend who is insecure about his height, voice, and/or general manliness?

I was really excited when I got this is my inbox and I really wanted to do a good job at it, so I hope I did it justice (which is why I thought headcanons would be better?), Anon. If not, please don’t hesitate with informing me on my ignorance and I can change things!

Also, I did something a little different with Oikawa’s? It seems more like a get together story than a comfort thing, though it does have points about that.

Enjoy!

Bokuto Koutarou

This precious boy would be so in tune with their emotions. He would know the instant he saw them if something was wrong; their face would just tell it all. So, there’s no point in hiding it from him, because he’ll already know.

Right away he’ll start bombarding him with questions, hands gently cradled in his own. His eyes would just plead for an explanation, because if his love is hurt than he’s hurt.

“Did someone say something to you?” “Who was it?” “Was it something I did?” “What can I do to make it better?” “Do you need a hug? Chocolate? To skip class?”

After he confides in him their insecurities, he immediately jumps all over the comforting kisses and embracing hugs in the hope that he can sooth any sadness that had gathered in them up until that point. It would break his heart to see them so torn up about something they couldn’t even help - it wasn’t their decision to be born inside the wrong body.

Reassurances would come forth without hesitance: height doesn’t matter, there are so many shorter than them in the world. His voice would change with time, especially with hormone therapy (if they choose to go that route). And their masculinity has nothing to do with appearance, that he was perfect just the way was.

Literally as he’s saying all this to his boyfriend, he would be the one crying - probably the one  needing more comfort - desperate to get across that he was in love with his boyfriend and didn’t want him feeling as he was.

He would just have to name what he wanted Bokuto to do to make him feel better and the boy would be all over it without question. His love for his boyfriend knows no bounds and he would do anything to prove it no matter what it took.

Kuroo Tetsurou

His easy smile would instantly disappear if his boyfriend began giving off any negative, insecure vibes, his stomach would instantly twist with concern for what could be causing him to feel that way.

But he wouldn’t force him to tell what it was unless he really wanted to confide in him (especially if they were out in public), though that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything to find out what it was.

Kuroo would poke and probe gently, subtly bring up subjects or conversations to see how he would react to them. Maybe if he brought it up then his boyfriend would be more open to talking about it rather than having to bring it up themselves.

It would teasing when he said it - probably joking how if he were taller it would be easier to kiss him - and the instant shock of his hand being ripped from his own would stop his dead. He’d nailed it, he supposed, but he’s instantly regret it; he shouldn’t have probed.

With his heart sinking further into his stomach with each and every word he delivered about not asking for the body he got and that he was desperately to become a man and sorry that he couldn’t be a real boyfriend to Kuroo.

God, each one would kill Kuroo. His heart would actually feel as though it had stopped beating. He just wanted to talk about whatever was bothering him, it wasn’t his intention to make him think he was against his own boyfriend.

Hands would gather him up instantly, holding his boyfriend against his chest, and he would allow him to do whatever he wanted - cry, scream at him, hit him (whatever it may be) - and he wouldn’t let go. He’d never let go.

Apologizes would spill forth from Kuroo, his burying deep into his neck as he told him how desperately he loved him the way he was and that he was there for him in whatever he needed. Because he was the man he loved and nothing - not even natural biology - could change that.

Sugawara Koushi

I just feel like anyone who gets into a relationship with Suga would get conditioned to be very open with communication. They would probably update each other on anything they’re doing - not because of any possessiveness of neediness, but just because they genuinely want to know.

So because of this when his boyfriend starts to feel even the slightest bit insecure, he’s go right to Suga without hesitation and spill everything that he was thinking. All of it would come rambling out without a single worry that his boyfriend would do anything but support him.

And it’d be an easy conversation to have. Suga would listen to everything, not interrupting in the slightest.

“You have every right to feel that way,” Suga would say once it was his turn to speak, “but let me tell you everything that makes you a man that has nothing to do with your body.”

And you better freaking believe he could spend hours doing just that.

His confidence in himself and the ability to be who he was would be a big thing that drew Suga to him and he would express that deeply. Then there was his innate ability to always make Suga feel calm and protected despite the circumstances. And there was a dignity he held that not many young men his age could ever hope of possessing. So, all-in-all, he was a much better man than any other Suga encountered in his life.

Next would come cuddles, Suga would reach out for him but it would be his boyfriend’s choice whether he wanted to be the big spoon or little spoon. They’d probably end up with him being on his back and Suga curled up against his side, head on his shoulder.

They’d probably fall asleep like that. Wrapped in each others embrace knowing that they would always be supported no matter what the circumstances were.

Oikawa Tooru

Maybe I’m just obsessed with the ‘best-friends-since-childhood’ trope with Oikawa, but imagine it: these children were next door neighbors and were always running around play sword fighting and going on long bike rides to see who could catch the most air!

I’m sure there was the usual childish notion of “girls can’t be knights” but when they get a little older he confides in Oikawa that he feels like he was born in the wrong body. While maybe Oikawa didn’t entirely understand it at the time, he accepted it and always offered to play the princess that was rescued by his knight in shining armor.

When they hit high school, they start dating, which was something that came very naturally to them, it wasn’t an unexpected attraction for the two. And maybe they jumped it, thinking that they could be exactly as they were before without it affecting their emotions deeper? (if that makes any sense? More like they can hurt each other more since they have their hearts in hand.)

This is something that it quickly addressed when Oikawa teasingly bends and crouches to be at the same height of his boyfriend, resulting in him being shoved, almost knocking him to the ground. It was be their first serious fight that wasn’t about something stupid.

It would last a long time; Oikawa would always go back to him overreacting. He would always accuse Oikawa of not listening to him. Stubbornness kept them from understanding each other.

Finally, it was Oikawa that broke, terrified of the notion that they might be breaking up and losing one of his best friends in the process. He apologizes and listens to everything his boyfriend has to say. While he had always known he felt wrong in his own body, it was different really hearing how much so. He instantly felt like an ass for his thoughtless action that started it all.

He’d try harder, determined not to do anything to make his boyfriend feel anything less of a man, because he was a man. So beautifully the man he fell in love with and he deserved nothing less than being able to feel that way all the time.

[ponytailsandpaperbacks]

2016: A Reflection via an Escape

2016 kicked my butt. It punched me in the gut from the very beginning (Losing Alan Rickman is a pain I will never get over), picked me back up and shook me like a ragdoll. Now, I'm pretty strong. I do not go down easily. At the end of round one, I was still standing, albeit a little shakily. I mad it through the end of my junior year and thought from then on it would be easy cruising. Ha.    Summer was hard. A lot of heart sickness and feeling lonely, but nothing I couldn't handle.      I spent half the summer grasping at what was slipping away. Things were changing quicker than they ever had, and everything I thought was strength had melted into weakness. Things fell apart and I'm still not entirely sure how. I see now that this was for the better. My solid ground wasn't gone, it was just changing.         One of my favorite literary devices is The Escape. It is the very literal form of taking a step back and examining your life. It usually goes about like this: The main character is in a huge mess and every step they take seems to tangle it up even more. Suddenly something (a side emergency they don't have time to deal with but have to anyways, or an opportunity they can't miss, or maybe even something as simple as an obligation they scheduled forever ago that caught up with them at the most inopportune moment) comes up and they have to leave the center of the action to go on an entertaining but (seemingly) narratively pointless  journey right in the middle of the action. Did I make up this trope? Probably.       The big purpose of this trope is usually REFLECTION. The main character is very literally removed from the center of the conflict and can perceive things more clearly than they can in the middle of it all.  This is what sparks the resolution, as the protagonist comes to realize what they really need to do. Examples: Elizabeth's trip to the countryside - Pride and Prejudice , Dumbledore's office- Every Harry Potter Book Ever.        I think about this trope that I might be imagining every time I go out of town. I pull a cliché mid 2000s music video moment and stare out the car window as the rain rolls down the glass. I think. I reflect. I work out all the knots in my life. I think over all the jagged bits that threaten my world until they are rubbed dull and jagged. No, it doesn't always fix things, but it makes things generally easier to deal with, and helps me face my problems instead of mentally blocking them out. I did this on my trip to Colorado in July, and I did it again when I spent Christmas break at my Grandparents house a few hours away. In Colorado, I learned that: I'm okay. I'm loved. Life is full of revolving doors. Maybe not an even ratio of closing : opening, but it fluctuates enough to make up for the times when closing is ahead. There are some things that can never be taken away from me. There are some things I'm not meant to keep. I don't always have to be in control. Sometimes it's alright to loosen my grip. I am incredibly lucky to have the family I have. I have more confidence than I think I do. Burgers are especially fantastic when the bun is a cronut.

Getting away is therapeutic. It is too difficult to do a puzzle when you are one of the pieces.

I don't remember all that much about the rest of summer 2016, except crying a lot in my mom's car. Also Wing Stop. There were a few tears at Wing Stop if I remember correctly. More than anything, I was crying because I was exhausted in a way I had never been any more. I remember one phrase kept threatening to break out of my mouth, and it about a month after school started I finally couldn't help it anymore, and I said it out loud to my math class. "I just feel stretched so unbearably thin that anything else and I would bust like a rubber band. Give it a few months and I'd be getting home at 10 to eat dinner and start my homework (every night for about three weeks), and I started to notice just how many tears there already were. I desperately tried to fill in the places pulled so taught with superglue and Saturday mornings.

     Coming back to school was weird. I'm a senior. Now that I've had a semester to get used to it, it's- Nope. Still super weird.      Everything is a last, and there's so much pressure to make it all count. On top of that, there is the uncertainty of the future, the headache of a forever growing To Do List, and endless worries. Some worries are not that serious, admittedly. It probably won’t matter in 20 years who I go to prom with or how successful I am in band this year. Some are a little more serious, like where I'm going to spend the next four years or whether or not I get my IB Diploma.       As someone who thinks that worrying is actually pretty proactive, I would beg to differ that just because they might not matter later shouldn’t mean that they don’t matter now. If I spend my whole life thinking towards the future, how can I find be happiness in the present?        However stressful this year is, I would be remiss if I didn't recognize that this year had more joy than almost any other. Remembering this year is remembering a year of hugs. Hugs from teachers sharing in my success, hugs from someone very important to me as we looked back over how much we've been through together the past 6 years since we met. Hugs from my role model. Hugs from the family members that I became so much closer to this year. Hugs from people whose affection surprised me. This year I hugged people I hadn't seen in a few days like we were meeting again after years at war.

         And then, a different kind of adventure. October 2016 was easily the hardest month of my life, it’s only competition being the month that Began with my grandfather getting sick a few days before my first day of Junior High.          My family went through a lot in October. We lost someone we never even got the chance to know. We'll never get to tell them a story or listen to one of theirs. We'll never know what his laugh sounds like. It is so hard. It's harder for others in my family than me. We had 15 days. It wasn't anything close to enough, but it was all we got, and I'm trying so hard to be grateful that we got as much as we did. We lost a dog in October, too. That was gut wrenching. It felt like after everything else, we were being kicked while we were down.       October was heartbreaking. It was so unfathomably hard, and even now I'm tearing up typing this. I didn't handle it well. That is, I didn't handle it at all. I just kept going. I held my sister as we watched a baby die and 3 hours later I had my instrument and was getting on the bus to a football game. I put my head down and worked. The good news is that I got  a lot of college applications in that month. The bad news is that while I did a lot of work, I didn't work through anything I was feeling. I didn't talk to anyone about it, I didn't think about anything.     The next month or so went by in a blur. Christmas break came and I survived the first semester of senior year. Again, I packed my bags and escaped. Finally, it hit me. I sat in the twin bed at my grandparents house, hearing my sister talk about everything through the door the night before Christmas eve, and I lost it. I started hyperventilating. Without really knowing why or how, I was suddenly sobbing and couldn't stop. It hit me. The next day, everyone in the family would be over at the house. It would be fun and loud and everything I love about the holidays. It also wasn't going to be how it was supposed to be this year. There was supposed to be a baby. The youngest cousin is about to be 9, and I remember when she was a baby, someone was always holding her while everyone else mooned over her, playing with her feet and fingers. It was supposed to be like this again this year. And instead of there being this gaping hole in the family, it was just going to be like every other year. That somehow made it worse to think that he wasn't around long enough to have carved out a niche. At first, I panicked. I was supposed to be okay. I thought I was fine. I've always been the strong one, and suddenly I'm falling apart out of the blue? Then, I was relieved. I was relieved because I realized how many emotions I had kept bottled up, all so I could keep pretending that I was okay. I realized that I'm a jerk to myself. I hold myself to impossible double standards. To everyone else, I preach that emotions are natural and nothing to be ashamed of, but personally I put so much pressure on myself to be strong that I don't allow myself the weakness of being sad or scared. With this relief came healing and talking. I talked to my sister. I talked to my aunt. December was my emotional detox. I worked on some other things too. I talked to my grandfather for hours. He's the most amazing person I have. Every college I'm considering, it's always "that would just be so wonderful if you went there". It only matters to him that I'm happy. He is the only one who has told me that I go to college because that is what is going to make me happy, not because it is what someone else wants for me. He also helped me get some perspective, telling me that whatever I decide, I'm not marrying a school. My commitment to whatever college I chose is a semester long, and If I hate it I can always come home at the end of the semester and try again somewhere else. So 2016, know this: I refuse to let what I lost define this wonderful, transforming period of my life. For the rest of my life, I vow to look back on you, 2016, and see instead what you have given me. You gave us fifteen days with a tiny baby boy and in those fifteen days he brought us all closer together and defined our future as one we spend together as a family. You gave me perspective. You gave me big decisions and risks worth taking. In you, I found both triumph and failure like I never had before. My birthday gift this year was the recognition that I have the most amazing support system, and that I am so blessed to be loved by so many people. I spent most of you worried, stressed and sad, however, I also had some of my best moments so far during you. I went to a punk rock concert for nerds with my dad and best friend and had more fun than I ever have before. I accomplished things I really didn't think I could. (Cough, Chem IA, Cough). I went on a couple dates. I had a sleepover with my cousin and sister. I hung out with a few people I hadn't hung out with in years. I road around In shopping carts with some of my best friends in a dress and fancy heels. I became so much more confident in my own skin, even if my skin hates me sometimes. I road rollercoasters (as well as road in some of my friends cars which felt like being on a roller coaster- not always in the good way). I had fun and said screw it. I slow danced. So thank you. Thank you 2016 for proving to me what I already knew, but needed reminding. I am strong.  I can do anything I set my mind to, and I am special. I can't say that I'm sad to see you go, but I can appreciate what you leave me with.

2017, I have so much hope, and at the end of the day, isn't that all that matters?