#ITS ABOUT HOW CLOSING YOURSELF OFF FROM FEAR ALSO CLOSES YOU OFF FROM INTIMACY DO U UNDERSTAND

[yappacadaver]

Not to be a huge hater but I see so many people hard coping with the lich thing by making it some sans undertale skeleton fucking goofiness and I’m like. See where the change in tone gets us. Dao through inquisition would’ve had the guts (lol) to directly say “without his flesh and with his dick and balls in an urn, emmy can’t feel your tender caresses” instead of just the extremely lukewarm “some of his senses could be dulled”

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Ghost x City Girl Reader

You expected Ghost to leave you before the morning; he usually does. However, you're surprised to see him rush to your aid after being woken up by violent night terrors. A sweet and unexpected moment between you, that only ends as quickly as it began.

Tags: Romance, Drama, slight Hurt/Comfort, slight Angst, Intimacy, Fluff that turns sour, Mask-Kissing, Arguing, Swearing, Enemies to Lovers, FWB, Jealousy, Toxic Relationships, "Couples", Arguing, Swearing, A Little Melodramatic, I'm aiming for something more real though, Reader is somewhat bratty and immature, Ghost is bad at communicating his feelings, Damaged people not knowing how to talk to each other and let their walls down, reader has night terrors, I wanted representation!

WC: 4.5k~

Author's Note: I'm back from Vegas! I was on a drunken bender on Fremont St. partying with my brother for his birthday this week (I talked to a lot of interesting people too 😏). This chapter might be a little different, I don't know? I'm not gonna lie, after this chapter, the tone is about to take a shift. Please enjoy~

Also, thank you so much @argella1300 for helping me out when I asked. Your insight was greatly appreciated and it really meant a lot! 💞

Masterlist

It came in the dim shade of dusk, tucked in by shadows of your hall -- the abnormally tall silhouette of a man. Stalking you. Haunting you.

He looms at the brink of your hallway, expressionless, unmoving, and yet somehow inching forward all at once. With each step he closes between you and himself, an encroaching darkness fills the room behind him within the blink of an eye.

Who was he? It's a question you've had since adolescence. The answers never felt as true as his unsettling existence.

The world around you is silent, fogged as though you were being held underwater, your mind racing at an incoherent speed. The only sounds you hear are that of your own screaming. You knew what was happening; your body and mind had just been unable to control it.

Night terrors.

You've never told anyone about them before; you've never felt any need to. It's not exactly a hot topic of discussion, nor something you could even put forth any real value into if asked; you can't explain something you don't understand.

They haven't been anything beyond a waking three-minute inconvenience. An on-and-off occurrence throughout your life. But once it happens, there'd be no avoiding it.

They send your body into a mindless, cold panic, the only emotion coursing through your veins being the unknown fear that first woke you. Your arms thrash frantically as you scream, your body feeling as though it were being grabbed by a million hands...

Don't touch me, your mind cries out. Don't touch me. Don't touch me...

...Until you've felt the one, very real hand touch your shoulder, taking with it the darkness you'd thought had all but swallowed you whole and replacing it with the waking world around you.

The morning returns, as do the rest of its unpleasant realities.

"Hey." That deep and raspy Manchester voice is the first sound you finally register, and for once in your life, it couldn't have sounded any sweeter. "Hey," Ghost says again, placing both hands gently over your shoulders to wake you. "Everything's OK. You're in your living room."

Your chest heaves shallow breaths when sitting up on your couch, taking in your surroundings. That's right, you're still in your living room. You'd almost forgotten you'd passed out on your couch last night, now catching the breaking dawn which pooled through your windows.

It always takes you a moment to regather yourself after it happens, having to make sense of what had been real versus some strange in-between with you and your REM state. In those moments, everything felt real, and fake all at once.

Even the shattering and reforming of reality around you could not take your mind from Ghost's hand, which remained wrapped protectively over your arm, fingers trembling with the hesitancy of his own actions.

"Are you alright?" His dark eyes look your face up and down, taking in every twinge your lips made and how your eyes seemed to look in every direction but his own, still glossed over and dazed from sleep. "You just started screamin' out of nowhere."

Once his words run through your head a few more times, you realize that you'd made a scene right in front of the one person you hadn't wanted to know this about you, a new detail he no doubt did not expect from you at all.

Ghost has known you to be many things -- seductive, witty, cold, distant, and near every other synonym in between. He's heard your voice moan in pleasure more times enough to recognize it within a crowd; he's heard you hurl enough insults his way to send even the hardest of soldiers home crying and insecure.

Never has he heard you scream like this before, with such fear and strife. In fact, he can't think of a single time you've ever been so frightened around him. To see a glimpse of that had been more unsettling than he wished to let on.

He'd only woken up a few minutes shy of you, having slipped away to fix himself up and reset his balaclava. His lips had still felt stained by your kiss from last night, the skin on his face tingling off the memory of your touch alone.

Nearly two months he's spent with you in this odd, little fling and he's never actually kissed you like he had last night before. Never for so long. Never so deeply. He wouldn't allowed himself to. Kissing just for the sake of it always felt like a step beyond casual, as much as he often craved your lips on his most exhausting days.

Ghost must have stared at himself in the mirror longer than he should have, just chasing that feeling again, making himself sick with it. He debated on leaving before you woke, though he'd keep that to himself, having heard your screaming once he'd rounded the corner. In which case, Ghost ran to your aid without question.

His first thought had been that you were in danger; perhaps someone had broken in, or worse, you'd been hurt. You might get on the man's nerves, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't care about your well-being at least somewhat. He never wished any harm to you, and he damn sure wouldn't let anything happen to you if he can help it.

The archway between your hall and you had felt as foreign and distant as space itself, however. When Ghost found you on your couch, your arms writhing, and wide eyes locked on him with confusion and terror, he had frozen in place.

For a split second, he thought that fear had been caused by the sheer sight of him. And then, the strangest thing had happened -- it tore him to pieces being given a glimpse of a reality he didn't know he feared most of all. One where the sight of him brought you complete anguish.

Your screaming didn't stop when he approached you, nor had it stopped when he knelt beside you, saying your name and asking what was wrong, only falling on deaf ears.

Nothing had stopped your screaming, nor these emotions that ripped at him, until his hand had touched your shoulder, and you both felt the sensation of one another.

Your features calmed, your gaze softening at the sight of him, now having been pulled from that sudden trance. In a matter of seconds, you'd just barely managed to get your breathing to a more manageable pace, your heart not drumming so loudly in your ears. You played his words in your head, again and again, until you've slowly regained composure. Everything's fine. Everything's fine.

Had you noticed he had this effect on you? Ghost imagines you'll only carry on as though it were just another thing; the kindest of gestures are often the hardest to notice in the moment, and you never did like to dwell. It only took years' worth of tragedies for Ghost to be able to recognize them himself. Though every now and then, it isn't something he can catch either. He only wishes this hadn't been one of those times.

Embarrassment and shame flood within you like a crashing wave, though you mask it in an annoyed groan, turning your body away from Ghost in hopes he'd take the hint and give you some space. You always hated when this happened around others, most of all around the men you slept with. Slowly, you prepared yourself for your usual dose of reactions.

"I'm fine," you say. "I just... I'm fine." You rub your hands over your face in defeat, before sinking your head into them with a low groan.

There had been reasons you didn't sleep over or have others do the same often, this being one of them. You didn't need to have another guy slowly ghost you because you scared him awake at 2am in a frantic panic; the best way to avoid it would be to not put yourself in the situation at all, right?

But what happened last night hadn't been like any of your normal nights with Ghost. Last night had been something... not quite the same. There had to be some reason you haven't sent him home yet otherwise. You wondered if it had been the same reason why he hadn't gone home yet either.

"Fuckin' hell," Ghost sighs. "You might've woken the neighbors with that one."

"It's nothin' they're not used to," you say casually, though the second you do, you wish you hadn't been so cavalier about it. You hadn't meant to invite him into your world like this.

However, no one had been more understanding of these sorts of troubles than he; Ghost knew what a pain it could be feeling as though you needed to explain emotions you had no control over. So he wouldn't ask you what that was about, or why you think it may have happened. He didn't need to know anything beyond the fact that you were OK.

"Well," Ghost sits down beside you on the couch with a dramatic "oomph", huffing to himself with a certain contentment to it. "I've been there."

"I'm sure you have," you groan. You couldn't help being sly with him, even now. It came out of you impulsively, knowing he'd always reward you with some form of attention you both could get something out of. Something you both let sit at the back of your minds all day.

You stretch your arms over your head feline-like, your body now finally feeling as though you'd slept in your living room instead of your bed. Your shoulder ached dully, your back already popping at each stretch you made with your body. The wonderful joys of aging.

"That's one way to get the blood pumpin' in the mornin', yeah?" Ghost jokes, he always did feel a little humor could lighten any mood. "You never scream like that with me."

"Perhaps you should do a better job then," you tease.

"Don’t tempt me, love."

Love. He doesn't call you that often. Only in your most intimate of moments. You hadn't felt your face smiling, but you knew you were.

You looked so innocently up at him after without even thinking. "Tempt you, Manchester?" You give the man a rather tired but still lurid look, bumping his shoulder playfully with your own. "Perish the thought," you say. "As if it's that hard to do."

"Oh, fuck off." Ghost sighs, and you can practically feel the man smiling beneath his mask. A smile that felt as warm as a heater come after a snowstorm.

Wind chimes clung lightly outside your window, the finches gathered at your bird feeder chirping blissfully. You both laugh lightly to yourselves, your arms faintly brushing at every small exhale from your noses. And you both sat there even after the laughter, simply looking off ahead of yourselves, with eyes still heavy from waking.

It had felt suddenly a tremendous task to look over at Ghost. Once you've worked up the courage, you catch him gazing out your window aimlessly, peacefully, his body settled into your couch as though he'd been with you the day you bought the thing.

And then he looks down at you. Maybe he felt you staring, but you never noticed how brown his eyes are, or how deep they could look in a dimly lit room. Similarly, he's never noticed how animated your own eyes are, always moving and observing some small, unknown detail. It made his skin crawl delightfully. Ghost would have thought that feeling to be a bad thing, and yet it had been quite the opposite.

Why don't we ever do this? You asked him that last night, and though he'd answered you, it hadn't been the entire truth.

A sudden burst of energy springs from you, pulling you from your seat and inviting yourself onto Ghost's lap, who leans back and lets you do so without question. Your legs settle over his boulderous thighs, humming lightly as he rests his hands back against your hips, sighing pleasantly to himself and looking back up at you.

Ghost did his best not to squirm around too much with you on top of him. It hadn't been the worst thing you two have done together. However, it wasn't common for things to feel so... easy. He could stay like this all morning if you let him.

Something tells him you felt the same way; you don't usually take this long to start getting to the point of things physically.

"What is it?" he asks.

"I'm surprised you're still here."

You watch your comment bring him to a short pause and find yourself now at the edge of your seat, arms resting gently over his shoulders and not being used to this sudden anticipation towards his answer.

Ghost had thought about being completely honest with you, admitting that he'd been equally surprised. That's when he woke up and saw you still sleeping on the couch next to him, it had been the hardest thing to even excuse himself to the restroom.

Your arms had been entangled around him, cuddled against his large shoulder like a giant pillow. You slept soundly beside him, peacefully, having felt so at ease with letting your guard down, all things considered. An innocent sight too far and few between bitter exchanges.

He's never slept over after before, nor has he ever held you in his arms like this. Yet, it had felt like the most sensible thing to do now, something as natural as breathing or blinking.

He found himself just watching you sleep for a while, still. In the early morning light that crept through your living room window, he sees all these details to you he's never had the chance to; you are beautiful. Truly. And he hadn't meant it in ways that were superficial or lustful. Genuinely, he really did find you a stunning woman. He's always found you so, even behind the toxicity.

Seeing you next to him had made him happy, and all at once, it hurt him the same, knowing this time would always be finite. You'd bore of him soon enough, only to call him later as another passing thought. Maybe one of these days, he'll gather the strength to stop answering.

Even now, with you over him like this, it's odd. He doesn't want to get up, and yet he does. He wants to pull you in closer, and he wants to leave. He can feel himself breathing, yet the sight and touch of you made the air catch in his lungs each time he went to inhale.

Maybe he could just blame that on the smoking.

"Good thing I was 'ere, yeah?" he finally quips.

"Right," you lean forward, letting your nose brush the tip of his just faintly enough for him to long for its sensation beneath his mask. You watch the blond of his lashes flutter innocently, with eyes wrapped up in you even more than they had been last night. "My knight in shining armor. You won't hear me complaining."

"That's a first," he teases.

"Fuck you."

Your kiss is what truly wakes him that morning, your lips sculpting the shape of his mouth through his mask and gently planting slow, light pecks. His arms hug around you warmly, with strong fingers gently grazing their way up your back. He always did like these rare occasions where you'd treat him softly; he liked to think it had been a side of you that only he had seen. Even as he knew it wasn't true.

You continue to kiss him for a little while, the man's hands only remaining comfortably at your back to keep you over him. Ghost wasn't sure how much more he could take of you wiggling about on his lap before he gave you what you were clearly looking for. But it wasn't until you started reaching for his mask that he felt a sudden bolt of lightning strike him.

Both his hands shoot up to grab yours, large fingers hooping across your wrist like cuffs, keeping you just out of reach from the brim of his mask. His sudden hesitancy makes you smirk, and already does he know that you're about to push his buttons.

"Aw," you tease, purposefully rocking your hips into him. It makes you giggle when he huffs to himself. "Feeling shy?"

"Not shy," Ghost says. "Just..." Vulnerable. Anxious. Wary. Careful. "...You know how it is."

"Aww," you start to pout mockingly. "Is that honor only reserved for the special girls in your circle?" you ask. "Or just the ones you don't fuck?"

"For the ones actually interested in sticking around," he says. "Instead of just being some fling."

You can't help but scoff, and Ghost can't help but tense up afterward, already preparing himself for an outburst. You certainly were good for them, and Ghost hadn't wanted to kid himself here either; this would all end soon enough.

It wouldn't be long now... and he knows he should pull away before that day comes. He's lost enough people in his life to recognize not to get close to something that won't last long enough to really matter. So he won't hold back his words with you. You can't have your cake and eat it too, he thought.

But some small, sad part of himself wanted you to fight his words, however harsh that storm would be, just like you always do.

Your shoulders slouch and your eyes drift off somewhere into the room. You couldn't make it more obvious that what he said had stung, in ways you hadn't even known you'd been capable of feeling towards him.

A fling. A piece of meat. That's how you liked to present yourself -- it's how you've viewed others too -- most of the time. So you can't get mad if that's how he sees it.

Yet every time that truth is brought to attention, it can't help but make your gut twist up in knots. As if some delusional part of you felt you could continue to sleep with Ghost and see other men as well without him caring.

You've been in a losing battle with Ghost since you first slept together. You knew on that night that any real formalities between you two were forever gone; you'd already spoiled so many of the first joys of being with someone, and it often left this feeling of things being too late to change. What you have now will probably always be what it is. So why can't you enjoy it for that while you still can? Why must he complicate things?

"I just wanted to kiss you," you admit.

It's the honest truth. You dreamed about his lips; his kiss had felt that good. You never expected him to have left such an effect on you, yet you've woken up, and the want to taste him has not subsided.

Ghost takes his eyes from you, dark orbs lowering to your lips as though to telepathically share the same thoughts as you.

"I..."

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

Your eyes turn to the thunderous rumbling of your cell phone against your hardwood coffee table. A phone call.

Ghost looked back at you, expecting you to sit up and answer it. You merely turn back to him, letting it buzz until the call finally drops. You could always call them back.

As you've opened your mouth to speak, however, the phone begins to buzz again. Another phone call. It's this time that you've decided to sit up and see who it is; you freeze once you read the caller ID. Shit!

"Who is it?" Ghost regrets asking the second his voice lets the words rumble out.

"It's uh..." You stumble on your words, purposefully being coy, knowing he wouldn't like the answer.

"Your boyfriend?" Ghost answers for you, and your silence after speaks volumes.

Your boyfriend. Mr. Sweet and Super Understanding himself. This supposed "doomed" second relationship that has been nothing but highs since you've known him, if anything you told Ghost last night had been true. It figures he would call you so early this morning, you two had seemed close after all.

And like the strike of a match, his entire demeanor runs from cold to ticked off. Ghost can do nothing more than laugh to himself, shaking his head as though you'd just pulled the rug from underneath him and blown the ceiling off the roof of your prior delusions.

After all, you got exactly what you wanted here from him. He fixed your car, fucked you after, and now you get to send him on his merry way while you spend some real time with someone else.

Grumbling to himself, almost without him even knowing, he mutters, "I don't know what else I fucking expected-"

"He's not-" You struggle to find the right words to say, feeling as though every sentence spoken made a true difference between Ghost walking out of your life for good or not. The thought made you start to panic all of a sudden. "I'm not with him like that. You know this already."

You're right; he does know this. You haven't lied about a single thing since he drove over to jump your car. "Besides," you start to argue. "Why does it matter anyway? Why do you care? It's not like you want to be with me. You won't even let me look at you! You've said it yourself; I'm just some "slag" you sometimes like to fuck. Why the fuck do you care if I'm seeing someone who doesn't think that way about me?"

Because he hadn't felt that way about you. Not anymore. Not ever.

Never has he met a woman able to push his buttons so effectively, in ways all too familiar to his childhood. But at the same time, this woman, this human who unknowingly held so much power over him without even being aware, you equally found the littlest of ways to creep into his mind and bring him a bittersweet peace he had not felt since his youth.

But if he said that to you would you listen? Would you even understand? You've never been a woman to be tied down. He's known this. Who was he to think he'd be the difference when what you say is true. He has not been kind to you, not until it was too late, and now you've one foot out. How could he blame you for that?

And yet Ghost stands up, a bubble now having been burst. "As though you're so innocent," his voice raises, emotions finally starting to tip. He matches your hostile energy, his dark eyes glaring down at you, a mirror of wounded gazes. "How many times have I been here for you, only for you to cast me aside like an old toy you can just play with when you're bored? All I've ever been to you is an easy out; you've never cared what I've thought-"

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

Ghost's eyes shoot down to your phone ringing in your hand, and you swear you've never seen him more upset.

A passing fear of him stepping over and snatching your phone from your hand passes over you, and your entire body language subliminally shifts in response. You instinctively take a step back from him, lightly turning your body to keep your phone from his reach. You'll be damned if he thinks he can try that.

He notices this small action, and a part of himself felt akin to his father, recognizing that fear in your eyes from his mother, even as you hide it behind a biting glare. That feeling alone could have done him in for good.

Though Ghost wanted nothing more than to answer that call and tell that other man to fuck off already, he had more self-composure and respect than that, along with his own moral obligations.

Still, it didn't take long for the conversation to take a turn, and from that point, it had been as though everything this morning had been but a slow build-up to an inevitable argument between you two. It always did come naturally.

It started out antagonistic from the jump. You questioned and belittled his sudden emotional flare-up, criticizing every one of his reactions and ignoring the obvious signs that you really needed to back off and just let him go. Or it would be better to say you didn't care for it.

To be frank, you didn't understand his frustrations. If other men had been such a problem, why does he keep coming back? What is it that he keeps seeking here?

Ghost hadn't been interested in spending his whole morning arguing with you, and physically feeling a grave be dug for the remains of your tarnished relationship. He moves around you and begins gathering his things, needing the air now more than ever.

"Hold up-" you approach him, throwing any caution or personal space out the window, as you've stopped a few steps shy of him. "Where are you going?"

"Back home." Ghost starts to put his boots on, the frustration he controlled in his voice being taken out by the aggression he used to tie his laces. "It's time I've made myself scarce."

"You're just gonna run off now? Just like that? I didn't take you for such a pussy, Manchester-"

"Don't push me, Spice," Ghost warns you. "I mean it."

"Or what? You'll leave?" you taunt. "I'll do whatever the fuck I want to."

"And that's the problem," Ghost says, standing up on his two feet and towering over you. "All you ever do is what you want. You never care how your actions affect others or what someone might think of them."

"What do you want from me, Simon?" You finally ask him, voice starting to rise, your chest puffing up aggressively. You'd curse him for getting you so emotionally riled up this morning.

What do you want from me? What do you want? A simple question that had been impossible to answer, because answering it would mean being honest with himself about what's happened with him here. It would mean being vulnerable.

"Stop calling me," Ghost says. "Stop seeing me. Stop being with me. We should never have done this in the first fucking place... This has to stop."

No longer did he wish to feel this way, to feel as though the worst parts of himself came at a constant full display with you. No longer did he want to feel himself slowly start to care for you, knowing that at any moment you could be gone. He's not sure he could handle something like that again.

Your mouth opens, and then it closes, and then you frown. Ghost thought you wouldn't say anything to him. He thought you might even cry. But no, you never were one to just leave things at that. You always had to say the last thing in an argument, and you never minced words.

"Then fucking go already," you say. "Get out. You won't have to worry about me calling you ever again."

Ghost didn't say anything after that, though he had looked at you for a little while longer. If you hadn't known him as well as you think you did, you'd say his brown eyes looked rather sad.

He moves away from you, making his way to your front door and unlocking it. He makes sure not to look back as you see him out. The man wouldn't be able to stomach the sight.

He remained on the other side of the door after you'd slammed it, feeling the wind hit his back and the sharp silence that it brought with it. Ghost then cocks his head back and closes his eyes, sighing in defeat. He felt the warm, morning air hit the little parts of his skin left bare for the air to kiss, and as though his mood couldn't drop any lower, he remembered he still had to go to work with you this morning.

Part Seven Coming Soon. Stay Tuned~

Since I'm trying to explore toxic relationships, I wanted to delve into the complexities a little (while not being so on the nose about it). They have their ups and they have their downs; they blend and happen all at once and take each other's places at every positive or negative interaction. You can have genuine moments of care and empathy with people you simultaneously butt heads and take issue with I feel; nothing is ever just black and white. I'm rambling and probably not making a lot of sense.

But, now that Ghost and the Reader are in the pits, they've gotta look within themselves and fix their shit if it's meant to be. I want to write them in a way where it's clear if they could just sit and figure out what it was they wanted from each other, then this could be something real if they let it. However, life waits for no one, and they're about to be in for a doozy. The mission i have planned for them is gonna be 👺👺👺

Taglist: @cabreezer0117, @homicidal-slvt, @deadbranch, @argella1300, @poohkie90, @glitterypirateduck , @sarraa-26, @quincessimus, @0-444-4444, @crazymela, @13thprogenitor, @joce2fine, @sapszilla, @dmitriene, @justherebecauseafarisucks, @zevrajalexxandra, @corvusmorte

[denimbex1986]

'The chemistry between Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal in All of Us Strangers is palpable even from the glimpses we've gotten into the film, and as its premiere grows closer, we're finding out more and more about how that bond came to be.

During an awards-season Q&A for the American Film Institute, when director Andrew Haigh was asked about what he encouraged them to do to cultivate the chemistry, he jokingly said, “Yeah, I just made them have sex with each other and was just watching. It was a bit awkward, but it was good.”

In seriousness, he said the three of them went to a concert together in London, where Haigh says the two actors completely ignored him for the day and hit it off while leaving him in the dust.

In response to the interview, Mescal and Scott told Entertainment Weekly that wasn’t exactly how it went down, with Scott joking it was “a little bit of hyperbolic directorial license” and they needed “to have a word with him.”

Of course, fans already lost it when Mescal attended Scott’s birthday party, and while they admitted they knew each other “a little bit” before All of Us Strangers, it wasn’t “as well as we know each other now.”

“We know everything,” said Scott. “The whole kit and caboodle!”

Their connection, is, yes, physical, but also explores a deeply emotional bond that even took the actors by surprise when they attended their first public screening in Los Angeles earlier this week.

“I was balling,” said Scott. “We had to do a Q&A afterwards. It was really emotional.”

Haigh intended for the sex scenes be a reflection of the broader intimacy he wanted depict. “It’s about being vulnerable and then allowing yourself to feel a little bit fear and then tense up and be nervous and awkward and then let the sexuality of it override you.”

Scott agreed, saying, “To play being in love or falling in love with someone, it’s the best, completely wonderful thing to do. We were starting to get to know each other [as people], as well. Beyond our preliminary friendship, it was like both of those experiences were coexisting.”'

[moo-nstone]

mars through the houses

mars in the 1st house: your confident, reckless and inconsiderate nature is due to your innate fear of being taken advantage of. you fear being seen as weak and like a victim that others can prey on. you’re very impulsive and energetic, not afraid of expressing yourself and pursuing what you want most in life. you want to show the world what you’re capable of and to impress others with your confidence. you want things done your way, you’re very independent. your sincerity and straightforward nature gives you a capability of hurting others and being hostile, it’s your job to choose not to. determined and unable to give up. you don’t even think twice before doing something dangerous; there’s this happy-go-lucky nature in you that makes it so that even when you get in trouble, things still work out your way because you believed they would. you react very quickly to obstacles and adverse situations/people trying to bring you down.

mars in the 2nd house: you’re very protective of both the people you love and your possessions. there’s an innate need for stability that you possess that has you being an impulsive buyer an hoarder, someone who needs to be careful with how much they’re spending – but it’s because you’re simply terrified of instability. you work hard to gain money and be able to spend as much as you want, but you should refrain from holding on to things too tightly. your value is not about how much money you make – remember that. even if you’re lucky when it comes to money, too much spending could cause havoc. inconsistency from the ones you love terrifies you. your values and strong opinions are very important to you, just like your independence and sensuality. others can be bothered by your possessiveness over them, with good reason; you should refrain from thinking you always know what’s best for them.

mars in the 3rd house: you’re very straightforward when it comes to expressing yourself and you’re not at all afraid of speaking about sensible issues, even when everyone around you is. you’re very outspoken and provocative, loving to expand other’s people’s perspectives and help open their narrow minds. you can be an overthinker to the point of losing yourself in your thoughts and paranoias. there’s a tendency for creating conflict through discussing with your friends and family, investing a lot of time in trivial arguments. easily annoyed and very knowledgeable, it’s like you have something to say about every subject. there’s a capability for being very harsh with your words; you have a sharp tongue. apologies are rare but when they happen, they’re very sincere. an intellectual through and through but you should be careful about being too analytical and experiencing mental trauma.

mars in the 4th house: you may have come from an abusive family in which you had to deal with a difficult childhood due to controlling, aggressive or downright abusive parents. either way, for the best or worst, your family problems affect you greatly. that manifests in either cutting ties with everything that connects you to your family or wanting to reproduce the dynamic in your present relationships to try and do it “right” this time. i’ve also noticed that there’s a fear underlying this placement of having children in fear of them going through the same things the native did. this placement also indicates coming from a dangerous neighbourhood. you have an immense emotional strength that helps you fight for what you want. you’re very protective but you also have a tendency to argue and antagonize others. avoid getting too stuck in the past. you’re a human manipulation detective, no one can lie to you. it’s a challenge for you to learn to deal with your anger and the past. you’re also very enthusiastic and active, and no matter whether you exercise or not, you tend to be very physically strong.

mars in the 5th house: you’re incredibly proud and competitive, making it so that you don’t accept failure. you have an explosive creative and destructive energy; you’re a natural risk-taker and gambler. active hobbies like playing sports would be very beneficial for these natives. you also tend to have a selfish nature. very sexual, love is a way for you to express yourself. sex is almost an animalistic drive. even if you don’t have a particularly high sex-drive, you have this need to be admired and respected by others due to your sexual prowess, which can be very toxic and make you have this complicated relationship with sex and how you want to express it vs how you think you should be expressing it. underlying fear about not being good enough, which explains your desire to win. very sentimental and with a huge need to live life to the fullest. hurried and chaotic energy. impulsive and your pursue of excitement and adrenaline might have you involved in many relationships.

mars in the 6th house: you have a very deep need of being of service to others, to the point of forgetting to put yourself first. you’re very dedicated to your passions and eager to work hard, with a lot of energy when it comes to work life, but be careful of overworking yourself to the point of a breakdown. you can also be very irritable when others are not working as hard as you or meeting your expectations; you should work on your teamwork skills, and to be more gentler with those around you and not let your violent nature get the best of you. you should also be more attentive of your health. very calculated and disciplined. you melt when being appreciated for your efforts. you make for a strict boss but an amazing friend. you tend to see the worst in people, though, being very attentive to their flaws that should somehow be fixed. it’s not like you have bad intentions, you just have a need for improvement, seeing the potential in everything you lay your eyes on.

mars in the 7th house: your need to be constantly stimulated can have you be intensely argumentative, especially with the ones who are closest to you. you can easily offend others and have a hard time compromising, which can drive people away and make teamwork prove to be a difficulty; that and the fact that you simply desire to lead. you love being in a relationship because it prompts you to be more active, but those relationships cam have a dynamic of restlessness to them due to the constant fighting. you have a lot of romantic energy, you just need to learn to channel it in a constructive way. very energetic and creative, with a love for being challenged and provoking others just for the fun of it. even if you can be careless of what others want and only focus on your needs, you still invest a lot of time and energy into your relationships; you’re very devoted, passionate and loyal. being more open-minded and learning to be a better listener would do you wonders.

mars in the 8th house: you both crave and fear intimacy. on one hand, you might be hypersexual and very assertive about your wants and needs; on the other hand, you fear letting anyone close to you for fear of them ending up betraying you. paranoias about being cheated on by your partner; you might hold on too much and too tight to people, needing to learn to let go of that need to control the ones you love. fear of opening up and being vulnerable, yet you wouldn’t stand others acting like that towards you. sexually magnetic. you seek intense manifestation and answers to your many questions about the dark side of life, unresolved traumas, the workings of the universe, etc. transformation occurs when you conquer your paranoias and fear of losing control, and it’s through that manifestation that your energy runs at its highest. moving on might prove to be very difficult when you’ve learned to identify with that part of your life as a part of your character. this placement focuses a lot on acting out your self-expression, which was something you didn’t get to do when you were younger.

mars in the 9th house: you’re very enthusiastic about intellectual pursuits and achieving your dreams. open-minded, and a lover of discussing your ideas with others. you hate it whenever someone tries to impose their beliefs on you, but there’s a tendency for you to do do exactly that to other people, due to thinking you’re always right. you love learning and travelling. you don’t care for social status, you care for enriching your mind. you might have a complicated relationship with higher-powers and the belief of god. there’s an innate need to search for and find the Absolute Truth, and these natives might either study about these matters like god or the universe with all the urgency in the world or be very afraid to explore them. either way, they feel very strongly, nearly fanatically, about the subject of god, the universe, philosophy. it’d do you well to understand that there isn’t an Absolute Truth and that everyone is allowed to have a different outlook and perspective on life because we all go through different things that change and mold our beliefs.

mars in the 10th house: you practically demand an exciting work dynamic + public image. you want to be recognised by your unwavering determination and passion in everything you do, your willingness to work hard and take the lead; you destroy every obstacle that comes your way. though, this assertive nature can make you come off as too aggressive, leaving others who aren’t as bold with a negative impression of you. spontaneous, independent and strong-willed; you’d hate to feel like there’s anyone or anything controlling you beside yourself. which is why you might hate destiny, you’re not fond of a higher-power being the one to make things happen and not yourself. you love obstacles and you literally feel bored when there’s nothing standing between your way and what you want; you like being challenged because you believe that that’s the way for you to push your limits and build resilience. conflicts with authority; you hate those in power due to their incompetence or corruption and want to fight to change the system. secretive and mysterious nature. strong instincts. you constantly seek answers, analyse others’ intentions and actions.

mars in the 11th house: unmatched bravery. you become a leader even without the intent of doing so, your passion and bravery inspiring all those around you. social issues, problems concerning your friends or humanity as a whole are when your aggressiveness comes hardest (seriously, don’t fuck with these people’s friends). very strong sense of right and wrong. however, your sense of justice is very personal, making it sometimes difficult for you to accept differences between people. your big dreams and determination to do what must be done causes frustration when dealing with the pessimism and restrictions of your current reality. you’re a rebel through and through. cunning and unpredictable. you’re willing to sacrifice yourself if it’s for what you’re fighting for. energised by the thought of joining the whole world together to fight for the same cause. an enjoyment of friendships with a competitive edge, you might have a rival who you actually really respect. natural problem-solver.

mars in the 12th house: your problems of unresolved feelings of rage are due to the complexes you used to feel in your family. you’re likely to have been physically abused and/or bullied in your childhood, which now shows in your fear of physical confrontation, fear of being physically weak. you internalize your anger, taking it out on yourself. explosive anger that may come off at unpredictable times. this placement also indicates insecurities and a fear of not achieving anything in life. prone to delusion like a distorted sense of reality/paranoias of your friends hating you. you might get lost on your fantasies as a form of escapism. now, i know this all sounds terrible: but if you’re able to work through your anger issues, take action instead of escaping through fantasies and work on developing self-love, the potential this placement has is enormous. because no matter how many times you get knocked down, you’ll rise stronger than ever. your strength is found within. courage that comes from emotional sensitivity. sexually magnetic + mysterious aura that draws others in.

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Cucumber Day 5 Watching Con's Filmography

(I also listened to a short story he'd been in, scroll down a bit on my page and you'll find it. For everyone who watched this and needs a refresher only on Con, someone finally posted a compilation on youtube. If you haven't seen the series, you'll probably be lost. But I'm sure its a fun out of context watch)

Summary wrote after binging the entire series in one day.

Please, Please, Please go online and check every warning for this show. Not only for the graphic hate crime but see everything they warn about. Protect yourself. This review will discuss sexual topics, nudity, and substance abuse, and age gaps.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

So the show. I think it was fun, not the best tv show, and has some mixed messages, but a fun watch.

I grew up in a household/town where sex wasn't discussed. Especially queer shit. This show is very in-your-face about it and I admire the shit out of it. The friendships felt lived in. The experience of being a young queer 'hunted' by older queers was explored enough to not make Henry a complete hypocrite, sadly. But the focus was always more on Henry, even in the end, Henry still got off on the image of a 20 something during sex.

Fully noting, I did skip scenes. Some things were just a bit much for me, so I took the liberty to save peace and move on. Yet, the show does seem to balance heavy moments with joy and comedy. Hell, during a fucking funeral, some guys need to go check their dicks for hair. And you know what, I feel that if Lance were there, he wouldn't even be suprised.

I loved Freddy. Holy shit, at first, I was worried about how he'd be treated, but by the end, I was rooting for him. Obviously, the guy is just so used to being hunted for his body. This topic was brushed on with the teacher, and not really felt by the plot or the characters around him. I'm happy he felt like he could leave and just grow up as a person. I'm so happy they let the audience see a time jump where everyone turns up okay, and happy.

I'm not a queer man, but I know this shit can resonate. I've seen queer men online discuss these same points. Predatory age gaps, the pressure to be hot, aging, commitment, and communication issues in relationships...This isn't the best show for all that to be taken seriously but I'll leave that discussion to that community.

So Con's character, Cliff, was right about Henry in episode 1, and I fucking love when writers do this shit. "You always did that. Never had affairs, just obsessions." Cause in the context, yes, Henry never cheated. But he never has deep relationships; he has brief obsessions until things get too serious and he needs to move on. Hell, In episode 8, that's the conclusion Henry comes to himself. "Maybe one day I'll come to terms to it...being gay". Cause he wants intimacy but fears men and getting close to people. It's that closeness he struggles with.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The things that bugged me about the series

The entire bit about the boys playing chicken for internet attention. Again, I know this is a thing. But now a days we legitimately have children doing this stuff unknowingly for people online. Or parents unknowingly showing their children on tik tok for millions of people. I know people who were groomed, and avoided it like crazy growing up as a kid online. I cringed every time this plot point was mentioned, feeling like a kid was a second away from getting hurt. It just felt a bit much to touch on for me in this type of show. Again, they tried to have their cake and eat it too by showing Harry get a slap on the wrist, but it just didn't feel like it justified the plot line being there in the first place. Seriously, what did it add to the story besides showing Henry that maybe he should go back home? He could have done so many other things. The only funny bit is when Cliff commented how fucking weird straight people are sometimes.

Cliff says in ep 1 he had a history of going after older men when he was young, and the age gap is boggeling. Again, this could mean he only had a crush on him. But if we're going to bring up how wierd it was, then why is this and the teacher sub plot where minors brought up the only time its mentioned. Like yeah, the teacher-student situation was fucked up. How about the 30 and 40-year-olds going after people in their early 20s. "I'm horrified to discover I have standards." Fun line Cliff, yeah. But they are literally minors. Age gaps and taking advantage of younger queers is a real issue in the queer community. There should 100% be a place to talk about it. But when every 'likable' character does it without issue, then it's still a problem. Hell, this is why Freddy's plot felt so out of left field in ep 8 with Cliff and him fucking before running off. I don't know why he did it, knowing that Cliff wanted him for his body? Or maybe he just wanted comfort after that argument and knew he'd get it by having sex? I genuinely want to know other interpretations. If Freddy felt like this, it would have been more satisfying for Henry to learn his lesson and not use 20-year-old Freddy as wank material for the next 6/7 years. Also, Freddy running away from Cliff with his pants down was just funny.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, wash most of that out of your head!

The fun part that we have all been waiting for-

TALKING ABOUT CLIFF COSTELLO

(Yes, Cliff is kind of a douche early on. Enjoying eyeing Freddy and praising Henry for leaving his boyfriend for a 'young boy toy'. But, as the series goes, it dies down. Cliff, pre-episode 6 was a fun jackass. Post-ep 6 is one of the best characters in the show and the best friend you could ask for.)

I have seen most gifs online for this character. The soft outfits, smoking, suits, smiling. And fucking YET. The three scenes to me that make me love this character are-

"And obviously, I could take a statement. Have a briefcase with me, files and a pen. Because solicitors get searched entering a prison just like everyone else, but I'd still have a pen. Because a pen is all I'd need, really. I think it would take me a second to lean across and insert the pen through his throat. Right here. At the base. Straight through to the spine. (I could do that.) He'd bleed out in seconds. Dead. So... that's what I'll do. With your permission." I need Izzy to do this speech. Please god. In all your infinite wisdom. In this moment, I 100% felt that this lawyer would murder the murderer of his friend in sheer rage with a fucking pen.

Cliff pulling up(no crutches *curtsies with a smile*) to save Henry's ass from saying something stupid to the cops after their place gets ransacked. Stepping in and ensuring Freddy doesn't assault someone in front of cops.

"I look forward to the tribunal because the law is magnificent in this regard. It's not up to us to prove homophobia, it's up to you to prove homophobia does not exist. Best of luck. Thank you." AHHHHHHHH Smarmy, confident, smiling Con, I love it. Maybe the hottest thing Cliff does in this series, the outfit, the glaring before hand, the confidence, and AHHH.

His stand-out moments are when he's being a loyal, caring motherfucker. Trust me, after days of seeing a sad, depressed, miserable Con, seeing him thirsting after men was fun. Seeing him make dick jokes and act like an 'Elder Gay' that protected his own did heal my soul. But there was just a fucking genuine happiness he brought to the role.

I love that, even though he's a character Henry can rely on, Henry would never stay at his flat. (Obviously, cause then the plot wouldn't happen, but I like to think they know they'd both bring out the worst in each other).

Henry uses him for his knowledge of the law when doing cagey shit. It's great. Like getting his job back or doing the whole weird shit mentioned above for extra money. Seeing Cliff doing his best to stay semi-professional and not visibly judge the shit out of Henry for essentially being a soft core pimp is so fucking funny. Also, his 'that's our song' speech, where he goes on about how people steal underground culture, was fun.

The funeral made me respect Cliff, as he knew how to handle the situation. Keeping the situation safe enough in public so that Henry could have his own time to break down.

When Cliff didn't push, let Henry grieve on his own time, it was beautiful. Many of us would have immediately pushed that boundary. Trying to let ourselves feel better by stopping someone else from having destructive emotions. But Cliff knows better. Hell, when Henry is crying we see Cliff tearing up. Showing that Cliff knows to just step back tells us so much about how these two men care for each other.

Now a tiny praise corner about writing an Elder Gay lawyer character-

The sheer joy in Cliff knowing he could use the 'law' to protect queer people. Both for Lance and for getting Henry his job back. If Cliff is as old as Con, he'd have been a lawyer starting in the 1990's. He would have in practice during queer legalization post-thatcher in the UK. There's a good reason he seemed to be the happiest when they got home after getting his job back. He would have been taught Section 28 as a queer man.

'The fight for sexual equality however, was far from over. Section 28 of the Local Government Act 1988, introduced by the Conservative Government under Margaret Thatcher, banned local authorities from ‘promoting homosexuality’ or ‘pretended family relationships’, and prohibited councils from funding educational materials and projects perceived to 'promote homosexuality'. The legislation prevented the discussion of LGBT issues and stopped pupils getting the support they needed. Section 28 was repealed in 2003, and Prime Minister David Cameron apologised for the legislation in 2009.'

He went from learning about all that shit as a young lawyer(who fucking survived the AIDS crisis), plus worse, to using ANTI DISCRIMINATION LAW for LGBTQ people! (kinda) So yeah. There's a very good fucking reason why that scene made me pause and stim for the fucking life of me. He was the happiest one when they came home, belting and smiling! So much has changed over his life and AHHH-

(This just hurts knowing this defence is all still legal where I live. And rights are being stripped every day... But hope still exists...yatta yatta.)

The friendship between Cliff and Henry feel so lived in. Burrowed and nestled. Clearly, Cliff has his own sad law show going on in the background and Henry is where he can let his (glorious) hair down.

I think it's funny as shit that when Henry panics and tries to find someone in mind to keep him in the moment sometimes he accidentally imagines Cliff. In a 'I've heard way to much about my friends sex lives so I think I know what it looks like' kind of way.

I also think it's funny that in the two times we see him in time jump to the future (At the table toasting Freddy and in Bed) Cliff is still not entirely gray after 6-7 years (obviously, they didn't think/want to age him up or do makeup just for a gag). However, Icon behavior.

His outfits? I would wear most of them. He is gender and life envy. Again, I think Cliff could have been a character to show how happy some people are without relationships. We get this vibe from him with the whole 'you're not tied down' speech, and I wish that was a concept explored more on TV.

He's the least depressed lawyer character I have seen on TV. If I could be a Cliff Costello type, I would go into law.

I think a good mix of the best parts of Cliff Costello and all of Val Pearson is who I want to be as an 'elder'(again, I turn 21 in January). Confident, loyal, willing to stick up for others, funny as shit. Maybe has a more stable love life than them, and hopefully not any substance addictions, but god. They just have so much joy when you know these characters had to have lived through such shitty times for queer people.

At first, I did this just to explore Con's work. But I think this has all helped me feel some hope for the future. What people need is support and love and a place to exist.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Overall ratings

Cinematography: 7/10. Fun edits. Fun motifs. Loved the opening, and the sound effects to suggest certain things to the audience was fun.

Story: 6/10. Would be higher but some shit just got stuck in my craw. Again, the show just got better and better as it went and by the end I just felt satisfied. Would be an 8 ish if not for my issues mentioned above.

Characters besides Con: 7/10. Everyone plays really fun parts. Everyone is shitty in their own unique way, and for the most part, they get what they deserve. Even if they haven't really learned their lesson yet (Henry, I swear to god you are on a wire). Satisfying arcs for everyone besides Henry, but that's the point. I'm happy the Collective wheedled out into a more realistic ending where these people could go on and live happy lives and not coddle the man.

Con: 8/10. He is so much fun, and he is having so much fun. I wish he was in it longer, but in every scene, he is in, he eats it up. He goes from serious lawyer to best friend in a flash and it just makes me so happy. Cliff is up there with my favorite performances, some of his actions just kill the vibe a bit for me. Again. Any series where Con smiles is a win. Also, I love that he bodied a character who uses movement aids, and it just made me more excited to see what he'd do with Izzy for S2.

OVERALL: 6-7/10.

Not an easy recommend but could be a fun rewatch when I start losing somd hope about our community, while trying to see the real issues that exist to this day...or see more people online criticize queer people for wanting to have sex.

I would love to know your opinions about Cliff, thoughts about my thoughts, and more below! Have a Lovely day/night, everyone!

Next on the docket: Kisses in the Dark. An 8 ish hour audiobook on Spotify! Seems to be a supernatural horror Staring Con O'Neill and Rhiannon Clements(hopefully not a romance, since, with the person I googled, the age gap is 28 years. It's a bit different with voice acting...but now that I know? eh). I will be listening to that on Saturday (the 17th), and will have my thoughts on that here soon. I've been warned it was recorded during the pandemic at homes. So if you want to join in, prepare yourself for that.

As always, some of you lovelies who suggested/commented on my last few posts! Thank you so much!

@ivegotnonameidea

@treesofgreen

[adorerdraco]

Whole Lot of Red ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Sneaky meet ups with Draco where nobody knows the two of you have a thing for the other until the day he sees someone flirting with you and lets his jealousy get the best of him. AU where its around seventh year and Voldermort never existed so Draco never got traumatized !

Warnings: light smut/hinted smut, jealous/possessive-ish Draco, a little more mature themes 

Words: 1.8K

A/N: aging him UP for this one ! and making draco a tad rude bc the way i picture it is just WOW also i like to try to change up the way i write him sometimes :) also couldn’t find this gif anywhere so if it looks low quality its bc i made it >:( i want so badly for him to walk up to me like thaaaat anyways I HOPE THIS IS GOOD

It was a funny thing, feelings, and the way they blossomed in places they had no business being in. Those very specific stomach churning butterflies and skipped heartbeats were unmistakably there every time you found yourself in the Slytherin Prince’s presence. It was a shame really, you had never even given him the time of day prior to the time you were forced to work on a Charms project together but now here you were; completely and undeniably entranced by him. 

Your group of y/h friends and you were gathered in the foyer outside the Great Hall, the doors wide open and welcoming students for the lunch that was going to be served in just a few minutes. Your friends were lost in conversation and you couldn’t be happier as your focus darted around the room hoping to spot the platinum mop of hair.

Out of sheer coincidence, a boisterous group of Slytherins had entered the foyer from the direction of the dungeons, all talking loudly and jokingly pushing each other as they came into view. Your eyes landed on the laughing blond in the middle, his toothy grin almost twinkling under the sunlight that streamed in through the large medieval windows. His gaze wandered around the room for a moment before stopping on you, the smile on his face morphing into a smug knowing smirk. 

A shivering weakness shot up your legs, your heart doing somersaults in your stomach as you recalled the previous night. It involved you sneaking out of the common room to meet Draco in a dark and hidden corner of the castle in the dead hours of night, his Prefect duties long finished and a looming fear of getting caught by Filch. It was you being backed into said corner, his body flush against your quivering one, a strong hand clamped tightly over your mouth to muffle the whimpers that unwillingly left your mouth as his lips left trails of wet kisses along the exposed skin of your neck and chest. It was his knee in between your legs, pushing you harder against the wall as your hands got tangled in his hair while he held your face in place by your jaw, whispering compliments and desires into your ear with kisses to it in between, smiling coyly to himself when he heard the small gasps of pleasure coming from you.

All this was because of a simple charms project, the two of you forced to spend a couple weeks together where it was constant bickering and malicious teasing until the tension between the two of you had gotten so overwhelmingly strong it was suffocating. It had gotten so unbearable that one day, Draco finally had enough as you were reading something out of your textbook for him, suddenly knocking it out of your hands and scooting closer to you on the shared bench, his minty breath hot against your face and darkening gray eyes flickering from your lips to your widened e/c’s as he whispered a breathless, “can I kiss you?” 

Post study make out sessions quickly turned into sneaking away from friends throughout the day which finally led into slipping out of common rooms to meet at night. No one ever noticed nor caught on to the two of you, the both of you keeping it a secret so you wouldn’t have to deal with people’s undesired two cents. 

As much as you enjoyed the hands on affection, you found yourself liking the intimacy afterwards even more. You looked forward to sitting down somewhere with him, his arms wrapped warmly around your body as you asked about each other’s day that branched out into talking about anything and everything. You would skip back to your room afterwards, smiling from ear to ear with your head in the clouds until one day it dawned on you; you were in a sticky situation of constantly wondering “what are we?”

You never dared to ask him though, terrified of his answer and that he would leave you in the dust for even bringing it up. In all your years at Hogwarts, you’ve never seen Draco with a girlfriend, he was the most well-known boy at school, an arrogant and proud Slytherin, a skilled quidditch seeker, and an irresistible flirt. But never having the title of ‘the boyfriend’, despite the countless girls that hung off his arms nearly begging for his attention.

“Y/N,” your friend broke you out of your thoughts, a sly smile on her face as she elbowed your side. “Your little friend is headed this way.”

You looked at her in confusion, turning your attention towards the tall Gryffindor, Trevor, that was walking towards your small group, a bright smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on you. Your friends giggled teasingly, already knowing what his presence would ensue. He was nice, but annoying as he relentlessly flirted with you every time you had your Transfigurations class with him. You just chose to ignore him even though he always ended up sitting next to you or around you no matter how many times you moved. He was someone who you complained restlessly about to your group which caused them to laugh and poke fun every time he would come up to you around them.

“Y/L/N!” He said happily, attempting to give you a hug as he came up to you which you only begrudgingly returned with a lazy side hug. He took your hand, leading you a few feet away from your group so he could talk to you privately. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet up at the library after lunch to study for our test later this week?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, trying to come up with an excuse but in the midst of your thoughts you remembered you had already made plans with Draco. Speaking of, you had forgotten he was only across the room, unbeknownst to you that he was staring hard at you and your classmate. “I’m busy today.”

“How about after tomorrow?” He asked again hopefully. “We can even go to Hogsmeade after, butterbeers on me!”

You frowned slightly, knowing that this was not a friendly collegiate conversation, but another ploy to try and get you to go out with him. His attempts were increasing week by week and you denied him every single time yet he never got the hint.

“Still busy,” you smiled at him, hoping that if you were to appear nice, it would soften the continuous blow of rejection.

“I’m not going to stop asking until you say yes,” he sighs, hands slipping into the pockets of his robe as he longingly looked down at you. “You might as well give in.”

His hand came up towards your hair, a skinny finger brushing through a strand of your hair as he pulled a small fluff of lint from your robes before flicking it into the air. You stood frozen in place, the gesture being painstakingly too much for your comfort and borderline creepy coming from him.

Draco felt himself shake with anger, the sight of you smiling at the Gryffindor and that he was running his fingers through your hair made his blood boil. Greeting the git with a hug. You being led away from your friends by your hand. He hated the sight. The thought of any man other than him being so close to you made him feel sick to his stomach, a rage sparking from deep within him he never even knew existed. He watched as you looked up at the boy above you, a weird expression on your face that instantly let him know you were uncomfortable.

That was it for him. He was seeing red as he threw his schoolbooks into Crabbe’s hands, pushing aggressively past a pair of boys that were in his way as he power walked towards you and your classmate.

“Didn’t you ever learn to keep your hands to yourself?” Draco called out condescendingly in his haughty accent, his scowl deepening as he approached. Trevor’s head snapped towards Draco, a frown etching itself onto his face.

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Trevor sneered. “Go find someone else to bother.”

“Take your own advice, filth,” Draco shot back.

“Filth? You’re one to talk,” the Gryffindor chortled. By now, everyone within a few feet of the debacle was watching, entertained at the argument that was beginning to unfold, your friends and Draco’s goons staring oddly at the encounter. You only stood there, looking between both boys towering over you in a daze that left you paralyzed in your spot. You were so close to telling off Trevor before Draco came, feeling grateful at your delayed reaction now that he was there defending you.

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Draco threatened, stepping in between you and Trevor as he spoke. “Leave Y/N alone, or I swear you’ll regret it.”

“Why? You think she’d pick you over me?” He snickered. “We’ll see who’s the one feeling regretful when you find her making that decision.”

By now, Trevor had stepped up to the spiteful Slytherin, getting in his face with a patronizing smile. Draco’s face twisted up in anger as his temper got worse, shoving his competition back with the side of his forearm, feeling satisfied when Trevor stumbled back.

“Funny,” he laughed darkly, “I seem to remember her already making that decision every single day while we’re snogging.”

Multiple gasps can be heard throughout the foyer, including your own as you gaped up at the blond, his eyes staying focused on Trevor as he looked taken aback.

“You trying to say she’s your girlfriend?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Your legs nearly gave out below you at his response. This was everything you had been hoping for recently, except not like this. But that still didn’t stop you from feeling giddy, however, the bliss of his revelation filling your entire body with glee. The ‘what are we?’ question being ripped from your mind with relief.

“Is that true?” Trevor asks you, a devastated look glazing over his eyes as you slowly nodded. He gives Draco one more pointed look, bumping shoulders with him before he stalked off into the Great Hall in a rush, everyone scattering around to go inside as well now that the show was over.

Draco turned to peer down at you, fury draining from his body as he admired you. He cupped your cheek, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on the opposite side of your face before whispering hotly into your ear.

“If he tries anything with you again, let me know and I swear I’ll deal with him,” he pulls back from you, smiling at you innocently. “I’ll see you later, darling.”

And with that, he sends you a wink, turning around to saunter over to his eager minions while your friends immediately rush towards you with a million questions that you would inevitably have to answer. This was not at all how you expected the day to turn out, not in the slightest.

[jackalopesao3]

Obey Me Cast Receiving Oral HCs

Super NSFW

⛔️ Minors do not read/interact ⛔️

⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️

I don't even like giving blowjobs but here we are 🤷‍♀️ I have no idea why I felt the need to write this. I'm such a hoe for these fictional demons, a fictional angel, and a fictional sorcerer. Please put me out of my misery.

Characters: The Brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Solomon

Lucifer

💙 Likes to be in control when receiving so you will be on your knees.

💙 Sometimes he will stand and other times he will sit at his desk chair.

💙 Likes to keep a hand on your head to control your movements.

💙 Sometimes he'll just hold your head still with both hands and fuck your face.

💙 Typically doesn't get naked for them and just unzips his trousers.

💙 Lucifer isn't very expressive when receiving and stays pretty composed. He'll either just stare at whatever is in front of him or look down at you to make sure you're servicing him properly.

💙 Loves the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock and deepthroating him.

💙 When he gets to close to release, a very faint blush will spread across his cheeks and his mouth will open just slightly in a silent pant.

💙 He lets out one breathy moan when he cums and his eyes close.

💙 Will praise you for your efforts and stroke your head as he comes down from his high.

Mammon

💛 Is a blushing mess when he's receiving.

💛 "Of course you want to pleasure the Great Mammon."

💛 Prefers you on the bed with him while he's on his back, he can hide his facial expressions better this way.

💛 He gets hot easily so his clothes always end up in a pile on the floor.

💛 Is very sensitive. Has come from just you licking and teasing underneath his head.

💛 He is a whiny, needy, drooling mess. He just looks so adorable when his breaths puff out from his reddened face.

💛 Will also keen and bite his pillow as he nears release.

💛 You may have to hold his hips still as he will start bucking his hips uncontrollably. He just gets so into it.

💛 Slip a finger into his ass and curl it while you deepthroat him and Mammon.EXE will stop working.

💛 Gets really clingy after he fills your mouth with his seed. He is super affectionate and thanks you for pleasing him.

Leviathan

🧡 Is also a blushing mess when receiving. No matter how long you've been in a relationship, he is still a shy boy at heart.

🧡 Leviathan is loud. You have to be careful when his brothers are home due to the volume of his moans.

🧡 Will totally let you go down on him while he's gaming. Has forgotten to mute his mic before though so best to remind him lest his teammates hear all those lewd noises he makes from your ministrations.

🧡 Will give you shy little praises as you suck him off. "Y/N...s-so good...aah!"

🧡 He can go either way with keeping his clothes on. If he's not gaming while you're doing it, he likes when you take your time with him and strip him of his clothes.

🧡 Despite thinking of himself as a, "yucky otaku", when you kiss down his body and praise him it makes his heart soar.

🧡 He is very sensitive, almost as much as Mammon. He will tear up from the pleasure.

🧡 He loves when you cosplay as his favorite characters during the act.

🧡 Play with his balls gently while bobbing your head up and down on his length and he will lose it.

🧡 When he gets close to climax his toes curl and he bites his lip.

🧡 Afterwards he likes to pull you close and kiss all over your face while repeatedly whispering "I love you," to you again and again.

Satan

💚 Prefers to be in control when you're going down on him and much like Lucifer, you will find yourself on your knees.

💚 Likes to be seated in a chair, clothed or unclothed it depends on his mood.

💚 If he's feeling particularly randy that day, he will collar and leash you, holding your leash as he looks down at you working so hard to please him.

💚 He loves watching your head bob up and down on his cock but he also enjoys holding your head still and fucking your face.

💚 If he has any precum on his head before you start, he will tell you to lick it off, watching intently as your tongue laps up each little bead.

💚 Will growl things like, "Right there, kitten! Don't stop!" when he's getting close. He growls in arousal, doesn't moan.

💚 Despite his almost feral growling as you bring him to the edge, he remains in control. Will keep his dick perfectly still as he empties his seed down your throat, you can feel his member throbbing against your tongue as he releases.

💚 Likes to pull you on his lap afterwards and praise you for a job well done.

Asmodeus

💗 Asmodeus loves a good blowjob, anytime and any place really.

💗 "Such a naughty little minx, aren't you, Y/N?" He'll tease you if you do it somewhere you could get caught.

💗 When the two of you are alone, he prefers that you both are naked so you can enjoy each other's bodies in all their glory.

💗 Please worship his cock and tell him how amazing it is - kiss along its length and rub his balls.

💗 He likes when you start with his tip, sucking on it softly and slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth.

💗 Is very vocal, calling out your name while he moans in ecstasy.

💗 If you're okay with it, he will take pictures of you with your lips wrapped around his cock or your tongue licking up his shaft.

💗 Kiss and suck along the underside of his member to watch him lose his mind.

💗 His moans get louder and louder as he reaches climax and he will stroke your hair as he cums, cupping your cheek as he watches you drink every last drop.

💗 He is also very cuddly and loving afterwards and will snuggle into your side.

Beelzebub

❤️ Will suggest doing a 69 with you - he loves to give and the vibrations from the moans you make around his cock.

❤️ Beel gets hot easily, so he prefers being naked when receiving.

❤️ Does get worried about you choking on his massive length and girth of his package.

❤️ Seeing your cheeks stuffed full of everything he has to offer is a big turn on though.

❤️ Despite not having control with things like food, Beelzebub is a very gentle lover and good at controlling his reactions. He's very aware of his size and strength.

❤️ He's vocal, letting out low moans and guttural growls as you work him towards release.

❤️ Insists on making you as comfortable as possible so isn't picky on what position the two of you are in.

❤️ Loves when you suck on his balls and tease them.

❤️ Will warn you when he's about to release as he typically cums a lot more than the average demon.

❤️ He will moan your name as he empties himself down your throat and thank you afterwards.

❤️ Definitely cuddles afterwards and will want to return the favor as soon as you're ready.

Belphegor

💜 Will be a pillow prince on days he's feeling particularly in tune with his sin.

💜 Just lays on the bed as you suck him off, eyes closed and letting out soft moans.

💜 Gets incredibly aroused if you tease him and will beg for release if he's in more of a sub mood that day.

💜 On other days he likes you on your back while he straddles you.

💜 Will fuck your face as you lay on the bed, in complete control of your body as he thrusts in and out of your mouth.

💜 Likes both of you to be naked when he's on top like that.

💜 Belphie has just a slight sadistic streak in the bedroom and gets turned on when you're all but choking around him.

💜 He will never hurt you though and if you show any sign of distress, he stops immediately.

💜 For either position, his tail will come out and wrap around you affectionately.

💜 When he's on his back, he whispers your name as he releases his seed into your mouth. If he's on top, he lets out a growl as he fills your throat with his cum.

💜 Is always up for cuddling after. Gets really sleepy after orgasm. Likes to nuzzle into your neck and shoulder while his arms, legs, and tail wrap around you.

Diavolo

💙 I wholeheartedly agree with the majority of the fandom that Diavolo has a huge dick so he tries his very best not to buck his hips when you go down on him for fear of hurting you.

💙 He likes to sit on the edge of the bed while you kneel between his legs so he can watch you. Diavolo absolutely adores you and loves seeing you work your little mouth around his girth and length. He always has a comfy pillow for you to kneel on so you don't feel sore.

💙 If you can't kneel, that's okay. Dia is honestly quite happy with any position. He wants his lover to be as comfortable as possible.

💙 He let's out soft moans and whines. He's definitely touched starved so he gets really into it. Don't be surprised if he lets out a deep growl and fists your hair.

💙 He loves praising you while you suck him off. He will stroke your face and hair lovingly during gentle sessions.

💙 One of his favorite things is when you make eye contact with him and the two of you exchange a loving look. He loves when all your attention is focused on him. Sometimes he will take one of your hands and lace your fingers together, giving your hand a squeeze when you lick a particularly sensitive spot.

💙 When Diavolo cums, he cums A LOT. He will warn you ahead of time and always gives you the option of swallowing. He will not be hurt in the least if you spit. He knows his load is a lot to handle.

💙 Diavolo likes to reciprocate and will happily go down on you afterwards if he hasn't already.

💙 He loves to cuddle and becomes slightly possessive post-orgasm and will hold you close to him.

Barbatos

💛 This man is not used to others doing things for him both in and out of the bedroom. He probably doesn't have a lot of time to relieve himself either as he's so busy.

💛 That being said, he prefers to sit or lay down on the bed when you go down on him. He wants to be completely relaxed so he can focus on the pleasure you're giving him.

💛  For some reason, I imagine him being slightly shy about it. You will have to ask/initiate. It's probably been a long time since he's had intimacy with anyone. Barbatos might even be a bit shy about it.

💛 He doesn't make much noise except for some small gasps when you swirl your tongue on his head just right. He may let out a few soft grunts and pants as well.

💛 Barb likes foreplay and when you take your time pleasing him. He wants to enjoy these rare moments of intimacy with you. Play with his nipples and gently bite his thighs when you're warming up. That will really get his blood pumping.

💛 He tends to stiffen up as he comes before letting out low moan and releasing all that tension. He really doesn't care if you spit or swallow. He is sure to praise you after.

Solomon

💗 Shady wizard is likely a horn dog and will let you suck him off just about anywhere. Sometimes he'll even pull his cloak around you and hide you in it while you do your thing to him.

💗 When you're alone he prefers to sit or stand so he can watch you. Will place a hand on your head and sometimes help you bob your head up and down on his length.

💗 Solomon isn't shy about telling you what he wants. He'll tell you when to suck and where to lick and will watch you as he gives you instruction.

💗 Sometimes he'll just hold your head still and fuck your face when he's feeling particularly dominant. He'll also talk dirty to you as he uses you and your mouth like a sex doll.

💗 He uses magic to soundproof the room if he wants to be loud. Definitely curses and grunts as he's getting close.

💗 If you don't want to swallow, he'll occasionally pull out and come on your face or chest. Will pat you on the head afterwards while teasing and also praising you.

Simeon

💚 Holy boy is still a horny boy at times but he is the most shy out of everyone. You will definitely have to ask and be the one to bring it up.

💚 Always makes sure the door is locked and that he has some kind of sound proofing spell up as he doesn't want anyone walking in.

💚 Even with a sound proofing spell, he's still rather quiet. Simeon will bite his wrist or muffle his cries into a pillow.

💚 Prefers to be on his back so you can't his flushed face and his blissful expression. He also wants you to be comfortable though so he will do another position if that's better for you.

💚 The underside of his shaft is pretty sensitive and he will buck his hips on reflex if you slowly trail your tongue from his balls to the underside of his head.

💚 The closer he gets to orgasm the less he cares about keeping quiet. Will moan and sigh your name as he fills your mouth with his seed.

💚 Is a little shy afterwards but also clingy. Simeon will hold you close but will blush when he makes eye contact with you.

[beyondspaceandstars]

hi dear!! do you think that you could do a loki laufeyson smut oneshot with the prompt “Doing so good for me, honey.” it’s okay if not!! thank you for considering!

Slow and Sweet

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, dirty talk - 18+, minors DNI

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This uses some of my favorite cheesy tropes so I hope that’s okay! thank you so much for requesting, I hope this was alright!

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki was unlike any other lover you had had before. A literal god, he exuded a dominance both inside and outside the bedroom that you were very much addicted to. He knew how to take care of you in every way shape and form, having you weak and babbling as he pulled pleasure out of you for hours in bed using ropes, toys, degradation… Anything to get you off in the rawest way possible.

And you very, very much enjoyed it all, obviously. Loki’s style of loving was so fresh and inviting. You had never been with a man that could be so commanding. Heck — you never thought you’d be attracted to any kind of commanding from any man. But while he brought out a secret primal side in you, at heart, you were still a sucker for softer, more loving nighttime activities.

You just… You just didn’t know how to bring it up with him. For as much of a confident man he could be, you knew some insecurities lied beneath that armor. He was always very insistent at the end of your nights that you let him know if you enjoyed yourself. You certainly never lied but you also really, really craved something slow.

Still unsure, you called a friend one night to vent and hope she had some ideas. Really, though, she didn’t understand your dilemma.

"Girl, you’re getting railed by an Asgardian God. I don’t understand the problem."

You sighed into the phone, gripping it between your shoulder and cheek as you began prepping dinner. "I don’t know. I just want him to be a bit softer, I think. Maybe something closer to love-making."

She chuckled. "Do you think he even has that in him?"

"Of course," you said. "He’s more than sweet out in public. There’s no reason that can’t translate into the bedroom."

"Well, then I think you should just tell him."

"I know, but-,"

Your words were cut off suddenly but the sound of something loudly hitting the dinner table behind you. You jumped, turning abruptly to find Loki standing in the kitchen, staring you down. He must’ve thrown his book on the table to get your attention. You looked between the item and him.

All while you’re engaged in a staring contest with your visibly confused boyfriend, your friend is screaming at you on the other end of the line asking what happened.

"I-I’ll call you back," you said quickly into the receiver before ending the call. The vibe in the room had gone cold. You didn’t know how but you knew Loki knew.

Still, you forced a smile, deciding maybe it was best to act like you weren’t discussing such intimacies with a third party. "Hey, babe," you said before turning back to the food you were preparing.

Loki didn’t respond and you were way too nervous to look over your shoulder. You focused on the slicing of vegetables very, very closely…

A hand landed on your hip. He was behind you now. You could practically feel him breathing down your neck. His hard body was pressed to your back. But nothing about him seemed to scream angry or hurt. He was amazingly calm.

"Who was that on the phone?" Loki asked. He was just about whispering in your ear. You gulped, trying to keep your focus on the cutting board in front of you.

"My- My friend," you responded. Another hand was suddenly on your other hip, pulling you into your boyfriend. You sighed at the contact.

"That’s nice," he hummed. "Must be good to catch up with your friend."

"Yeah-,"

"But tell me, dear, do your conversations together always end up with you complaining about our sex life?"

You shook your head. "Loki, I wasn’t complaining-,"

"You want me to be softer," he gritted.

You sighed, placing your kitchen knife back on the counter and pushing away the vegetables. Dinner was definitely on hold now. "That doesn’t mean I’m complaining," you explained. "I love what we do so much, you make me feel incredible, but I also want to slow down sometimes. I’ve loved exploring the rougher side of sex with you, I just… I want the other side of it, too. A balance, maybe."

There was a lull for a moment before Loki hesitantly spoke, "I’m afraid I won’t know how to."

You closed your eyes, absolutely dreading hearing the words you had feared. But you pulled through, slowly nodding your head, trying to accept it. "Alright, I understand—"

"But I want to try."

"Y-You do?"

He nodded as one of his hands slowly began creeping its way up and under your blouse. His hands were so rough compared to your soft skin. As Loki’s hand brushed over your bra-covered breasts, warm lips began decorating your neck with kisses. He nipped and sucked still but it was nothing compared to how he used to do it. It didn’t feel like he was trying to devour but instead savor you.

"Is this close to what you had in mind?" Loki asked, his voice dropping lowly. You moaned in response as his hand began traveling south, fingers light and delicate as they skimmed the top of your shorts.

Your eyes slowly drifted shut in anticipation as you murmured, "Feels good…"

Loki tsked. His hand stopped. "You haven’t felt anything yet."

There was a swooshing sound. You opened your eyes and in your confusion took in the sights of your bedroom. Loki was still pressed behind you. You were facing the bed.

"If my darling wants traditional loving then it needs to happen in a traditional spot, correct?"

You wanted to comment that being transported to the bedroom in such a manner wasn’t traditional by any means but before you could speak, Loki was guiding you to the bed, sitting you at the edge of it.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. "Are you…" You began to ask but were cut off by him placing a kiss in your inner thigh.

"Now," he mumbled into your skin, "I prefer to feast rather hungrily but I’m going to try it your way, okay?"

You bit your lip, nodding slowly, completely hypnotized by the sight of Loki kneeling for you. Usually, when he ate you out you were completely lying down in bed. He had never dropped to the floor for you.

"Terrific," he said and with a flick of the wrist, your clothes had vanished.

Again, you wanted to bite back that that certainly wasn’t part of old-fashioned love-making but your protests were silenced by his tongue finding your clit. Gently, he moved in soft, tight circles around your clit before testing your folds. Instinctively, your hands flew to his hair, tangling your fingers in his dark locks as your body arched in pleasure.

Loki let out a low hum at your grip before his tongue slowly maneuvered its way inside you, caressing your folds. You gasped as his tongue worked on you, bringing you closer to an orgasm. He began altering now from your folds to your clit, pulling pleasure in surprising ways. To add to it all, Loki’s hands were running up and down your thighs as he went. You didn’t know what it was about the simple touch but it was driving you crazy.

The longer you stared, the faster the tongue worked, the closer you were getting… Your brain was spinning as you felt your orgasm building.

"I-I’m-," you tried muttering out but Loki seemed to get the memo. Abruptly, he removed all contact. You gasped, a bit surprised, a bit angry. You shot daggers at him.

"Patience, honey," he snickered, "You wanted it slow and sweet, didn’t you?"

"Yes, but…" Your words couldn’t finish, once again, as Loki attached his lips to yours. Slowly, he pushed you back on the bed as your tongues now fought with one another. You were completely encapsulated in tasting remnants of yourself on him and the kind way he was kissing you, you didn’t even realize what was happening until your head hit your pillow.

His lips left yours and began working down to your jaw, your neck, across your breasts… It felt like he was loving every inch of your skin. You felt truly beautiful, admired, at that moment as he practically worshipped you. He placed a quick kiss on your clit and you thought maybe he’d continue his actions down there but then he was back, face level with you.

"Fair warning, darling," Loki whispered, "it’s going to take all the patience I possess to go slow once my cock is buried deep in your soaking core."

His gaze was intense, almost too much, but you just nervously nodded and waited. Loki intertwined one of your hands together while the other one fell to your hip. Typically, at this point he’d just grab your waist and pull you into him, never giving you the chance to breathe or adjust. He’d fuck you a bit wildly, letting bruises from his fingertips litter your skin.

Tonight, though, everything was with a lighter touch. And when he entered you, he stopped halfway, letting you both really feel the moment. You moaned at the fullness as Loki groaned in your ear. When settled, he eased in fully and you were just about done for.

You could see Loki resisting the urge to just take you relentlessly but then he placed a gentle kiss on your lips and pulled out a little, slowly, before diving back in. Your back arched as you felt every inch of him, really felt him. It was so snug but just right. You felt your wetness pooling shamelessly.

"That’s it," Loki groaned as his pace continued at a slightly antagonizing slow rhythm. "Doing so good for me, honey."

"Feels amazing…" You sighed, taking in every time Loki’s cock would nudge the right spot or stretch you just a little bit more. It felt… It felt like a first time. Like you two had been saving this moment.

Loki’s pace picked up just slightly and you knew he was getting close. That was maybe one thing he could never resist — chasing his orgasm with you at all cost. You snaked your free hand down to your clit, working for that extra pleasure but Loki’s hand on your hip quickly pushed it away.

"I’ve got you, darling," he whispered and replaced your fingers with his. He rubbed tight, cautious circles on your clit. You squealed as your orgasm began approaching quicker and quicker.

"Please," you begged, "I need to cum." Loki could never resist your begging and it seemed to drop the facade a bit. The circles and pumping picked up even faster. It hit you at that moment that while you loved the slow foreplay, getting fucked in such unconventional ways was really delightful.

Loki must’ve felt your walls tightening because he mumbled, a bit weakly, "Cum for me, dear. Come on, cum for me."

A few more flicks on your clit and you were there. Your back arched off the bed again as your body shook. Your orgasm filled you just as Loki was now filling you. The warmth of both actions consumed your body, bringing pleasure beyond belief. You twisted and turned on the bed as you two slowly came down from the highs.

Loki gently wrapped his arms around you, still huffing and puffing from his own pleasure. He was still inside you as he laid on the bed. You could feel his release leaking out of you and onto your thighs. You sighed, very content.

"Was… Was that okay?" Loki eventually hesitantly asked. You were watching the ceiling, still trying to get your breathing under control, as he stared at you. He disconnected your hands and began carefully running his fingers through your hair, lovingly.

You nodded. "That was lovely," you smiled. "Thank you."

"I just want to make sure that every time you leave this bed, you’re satisfied."

"I-I didn’t mean to make you think I’m not satisfied," you mumbled. "I’m always pleased when you’re pleasing me."

Loki grinned at the silly phrase. "Good," he said then began moving a sneaky hand down your body. It stopped where you two were still connected. You let out a sharp breath at his touch. "Would a round two be satisfying? You’ve had your love-making. Now I want to fuck you."

You could barely nod your head in response before Loki was pouncing on you.

[beels-burger-babe]

Totally Not Lost

***Holy!! I'm so happy you sent in a request! You know I love my boy Mammon, so I will gladly do this. I hope you enjoy @holygarm. I decided to up the intensity a little and also add in my own personal phobia of the dark, so I hope you don't mind. *** Summary: Mammon takes MC treasure hunting, only they kind of get more than a little lost along the way, and it's starting to get dark. TW: Anxiety/Anxiety Attacks

You glanced around nervously as you and Mammon continued to trek down the gnarled, unmarked, trail of the deep woods. It had been hours since your adventure had first begun. Mammon had come to you early that morning, super excited about a treasure map that he had found. His face was practically glowing with joy in a way that made it impossible to say no to him when he asked you to tag along.

It was as bright as it could possibly be in the Devildom when you two first took off. According to the map, the treasure was supposed to be under a crow-shaped stone near the base of a lake deep in the woods. At first, you were just as excited as Mammon and eagerly tried to help him decipher the map as went further and further into the wilderness. But now what little light the sky offered was beginning to fade, and threatened to trap Mammon and you into a blanket of pitch darkness. You glanced nervously up at the sky and tugged on Mammon's jacket. "H-Hey Mammon? Maybe we should be getting back soon." Mammon whipped around to look at you with wide eyes. "And forget about the treasure?! Are ya insane? We've been lookin' for it all day; we ain't givin' up now!"

You swallowed down the lump of fear in your throat as you noticed just how dark it was getting. There could be all kinds of monstrosities around you, lurking in the black, and you wouldn't even know. "I know. B-But I really want to go back. Please. It's getting dark." Mammon's expression lit up as he put an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close. "Not to worry MC! As a demon, I can see the dark. I'll lead the way. You just stay close the GREAT Mammon, and I'll take care of everythin'!" You felt your stomach sink. You knew he meant well, but you really didn't know how much longer you could be out here. "M-Mammon that's really kind and sweet of you, b-but I just want to go home. I don't like the dark." He looked at you for a moment before his expression softened. Now that you mentioned it, he could see the way you nervously clenching and unclenching your fists. He could feel the subtle tremor in your body. Most obviously, he could see your wide eyes darting around you, searching for any signs of danger. His poor human was scared out of their mind! Mammon sighed and nodded. "Alright. I suppose a fragile little human like yourself shouldn't be out here this late anyway," he took your hand into his own and turned around. "Come on, MC. I'll lead the way back. You'll be safe with me." You nodded and allowed yourself to press closer to Mammon as the two of you walked through the woods. Only ten minutes later, you found yourselves back by the same tree you had initially stopped at. You frowned as you noticed it, and glanced up at Mammon who had a slightly confused expression on his face. You felt your heart stop at the sight of it. "Mammon...are we lost?" Mammon quickly looked down at you with wide eyes. "Lost? What no! We're not lost! We're just...taking the scenic route?"

He was very obviously lying. You didn't have time for this. The dark was getting closer and closer. Soon it would completely envelop you and trap you its void. You wouldn't be able to see, and you'd be vulnerable to Diavolo knows what. The fact that you were lost made matters worse because it meant that there would truly be no escape. You'd be stuck in these stupid woods forever and no one would ever be able to find you, and- "MC? MC, ya need to breathe." You let out a squeak at the sound of Mammon's voice and suddenly became aware of the fact that he was right; you weren't breathing. You should feel yourself shaking and your heart pounding in your chest as though it was about to burst from your rib cage at any moment. Mammon took one of your hands and placed it on his chest as he looked down at you. His expression was also one of panic and fear, but for a very different reason than your own. "MC, ya need to listen to me. I-I'm not as good at this stuff as Satan or Levi, but I'm tryin' my best here. Just breathe. Follow along with me." Under your sweaty palm, you could feel Mammon's chest rise and fall with each exaggerated breath. You took in a staggered breath as you tried to copy the rhythm, causing Mammon to relax a little. "Good. Keep going. Y-You're doing good," he pulled you closer to him and pressed his forehead against yours. "We're gonna be okay, MC. The moment you're calm, I'm gonna get us outta here. I promise." Wrapped in the safety of Mammon's arms, you were able to gather yourself enough to steady your breathing once more. However, by the time you had, the darkness had finally fallen, and you could barely see an inch ahead of you. You whimpered and pulled your hands into your chest as you felt panic begin to rise within you once more. Mammon snarled and looked around the two of you. He wasn't going to let you work yourself up like that again. He refused to have you being so scared while you were with him. He was your protector, and he'd be damned if he let you panic again. "Right. Enough of this. I'm gettin' ya home. Now." Mammon shifted into his demon form and unfurled his wings. He grabbed your arms and laced them tightly around his neck. Although you couldn't see it, his face was flushed as became nearly nose to nose with you. "Hold on tight, okay? I won't drop ya, or nothin'. I just need ya to trust me." "O-Okay." You tightened your grip on him and yelped as he swept you up into his arms. You could feel his breath tickle your face as he smiled softly down at you. "Ya ready?" With your nod of confirmation, Mammon flapped his wings and launched the two of you into the air.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as the wind roared around you. Mammon tightened his hold you, and flew quick and fast with all the confidence of a former angel. Though the air around you was cold, you felt your cheeks heat up at the intimacy of the moment. You closed your eyes and nuzzled your face against his chest, hearing the fast beating of his heart. In no time at all, the two of you were back at the House of Lamentation. The moment Mammon had your feet on the ground, he cupped your face with his hands and frantically started searching for any sign of injury or pain. "Are you alright? You didn't get hurt or nothin' right?" Rather than respond, you simply wrapped your arms tightly around him. "I'm alright. Thanks for helping me." You bit back a smile as you heard him sputter in search of words. Eventually, you felt him hug you back and place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "Don't worry about it. You're my human. It's my job to look after ya." ***Holy this was so cute! Thank you so much for the recommendation! I hope you like it!***

[madame-fouquet]

2022 Anime Retrospective

With the year having come and gone, and a whirlwind of, frankly incredible, anime with it, it's time to do what has become a tradition for me and present my annual end of the year anime round-up! Each year it feels like I talk about just how hard it was to narrow the field as if it is something unique to that year's batch of anime, but perhaps it's time to admit that every year has a ton of great stuff that make it difficult to pick just a few to represent the best of them.

That said there were still a couple factors that made this year uniquely difficult, mainly the threat of a sweep by one particular series. However I am nothing if not fair, so I imposed a rule that I wouldn't let any series occupy more than two spots. I WILL however be doing a special mini-shout-out at the end of each category to that one particular series. That out of the way I do want to also open with a quick shout-out to some entries that didn't quite make the cut. My Dress Up Darling was a positively incredible series with an equally incredible main couple who were impossible to not root for, Marin herself being an especially lovable goober who had me constantly “Squeee”-ing along with her. Chainsaw Man was also a GREAT late-year entry that I feel is gonna really get a chance to shine in later seasons/coeurs so I'm gonna let it wait til then for me to really gush. Eve from Birdie Wing, Marin from Dress Up Darling, Chainsaw Man's Power, and Do It Yourself's own Jobko-chan are all wonderful and delightful ladies, but couldn't quite measure up to the character who did come away with this year's accolade. I do still absolutely love all of them though. And One Piece Film Red's Backlight encapsulates both an absolute banger of a song as well as a potent and emotional moment in the movie, but there were reasons it couldn't be on the list for either of those categories. That will not, however, stop me from listening to it on repeat.

Best of the Year: Call of the Night

“Take me away midnight, Bloodshot red eyes, A lullaby for grown-ups.”* The unprecedented power of the temptation offered by a street lit, not by the sun, but by the harsh burning glow of neon signs and muted business windows. The freedom you find wrapping itself around you just as the gloomy shadows of murky alleys close in on either side. The endless possibilities of the deep, dark, and beautiful night.

Crazy how something like an anime can encapsulate such profound and abstract concepts, how it can make me long for those quiet and intimate walks to a 7-11 at midnight, the way it felt like the whole town was just for me and a single other person. But conveying those feelings of nostalgia for distant memories of the romantic and unknown is clearly EXACTLY what Call of the Night was setting out to do, and the fact that it was able to so perfectly do just that is exactly why it is my best show of the year.

Call of the Night is more than just a vehicle for exquisitely communicated vibes though. It's also the story of Ko-kun and Nazuna finding each other, and trying to find meaning in their lives through that connection. Of Ko trying to come to terms with who he is, and what connecting with other people actually means. Of Nazuna trying to shake off the deep malaise that has haunted the long nights of her unnaturally long life. It is a story of people finding themselves through each other and through the freedom offered only by the mystery of the night.

Along with the harsh feelings of entropy and malaise Call of the Night also understands how to perfectly communicate things like fear, intimacy, joy, and raw sex appeal. Every other series that makes an attempt at being erotic ends up feeling sophomoric and lazy next to the subtle, classy, and perfectly potent showings from Call of the Night.

I would love to keep going on about Call of the Night, and I will! But not here. This series threatened to sweep nearly every category this year and, though I denied it that privilege, I will give the show its due and note, as an honorable mention, each thing it would have contributed to those categories. If that isn't the ultimate endorsement of a single series, I don't know what is. “Flooded with don't-do's, Smeared with shouldn't know's. Under the screen of darkness coming to get us, You're always so capricious, The Call of the Night.”* *Yofukashi no Uta by Creepy Nuts

Runner-Up: Made in Abyss Golden City of the Scorching Sun

***This is one of the first times I feel like I need to tag one of my entries with a SPOILER warning. So if you haven't watched the latest MiA season and have plans to, maybe consider skipping over this entry. Just know that I highly recommend it!*** With all the romanticism out of the way it's time to get heavy. Made in Abyss can be a very divisive series, and for good reasons, but it qualifies as a “problematic fave” for me. I'm not here to get into the weeds about the series though, what I am here to do it talk about what a fantastic follow-up this second season is to the initial outing as well as the movie.

For me, Made in Abyss was always about three things: The unrelenting power of the human spirit, the awe-inspiring beauty of the bizarre and dangerous, and the strength to retain one's identity and principles in the face of overwhelming horror that dares you to lose your way. Golden City of the Scorching Sun follows up on all of these themes perfectly, willing to pursue just how far the human spirit can be pushed while still refusing to break.

The new characters are also extremely good fits for the continuation of those thematic explorations, with new-comer Faputa having an arc that ties wonderfully into Reg's own continued growth while still also focusing on the question posed by her own existence: Even if you are in the right to seek revenge and enact abhorrent acts in its name, is it still morally just to do so? (if you were to ask me the answer is: yes.)

The new villain of Wazukyan also does a fantastic job of following up on past antagonists by continuing to show how easy it is for raw confidence and unstoppable ambition, like that exhibited by spunky protagonist Riko, to spiral into self-serving cruelty and arrogance. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and the Abyss is allegory enough for the awful afterlife that I think the original exhibition leader's intentions qualify as a guiding beacon into the dark. And while a lot of parallels can be draw between Wazukyan and series supervillain bad-dad Bondrewd, I think Wazukyan's approach and mindset are different enough from the “Father of the Year” that he stands well on his own. Overall this entry was exactly what it needed to be, different enough to stand apart from it predecessors, but still fully acting on that mission statement that we started the exhibition on. And it has me just that much more excited to continue down into the Abyss and see what beautiful horrors are waiting for our heroes when they finally reach the bottom.

Runner-Up-Up: Kaguya-sama Love is War -Ultra Romantic-

Any season that has Kaguya-sama means that every other show is competing for a best of slot with Kaguya-sama. Any year that has Kaguya-sama is a year where every other show is competing for a best of slot with Kaguya-sama. This show is like the new gold standard for both rom-coms and absurdist high school comedies, and the third season shows that it absolutely refuses to slow down when it comes to “pause the show and take a minute to finish laughing” comedy, as well as absolute gut-punching emotional peaks.

I lauded the second season for achieving the previously thought to be impossible task of making me actually care about and feel bad for Ishigami, a feat which this season follows up on by continuing to feature him as a... surprisingly good guy? Yeah it's wild. It also made me form an emotional connection with Ino, despite her rather off-putting personality. Honestly Kaguya-sama really is just “the show that makes you see the good in a bunch of stupid kids.” (Gosh they're all so dumb.)

What also helped this season, I think, was giving some more screen-time and substantial growth to the long-suffering ultimate wingman who is Hayasaka. Hayasaka has spent so much time in Kaguya's shadow, having to expend so much time and energy managing her mistress's emotions that, both personally and narratively, she's had ZERO time to experience growth and handle her own problems. But now it's her turn to shine in the spotlight and express all that pent up frustration in the most normal and natural way anyone could- with a rap-battle. She deserves everything they finally give her honestly, especially considering this season also saw her being forced to confront one of the most brutal ordeals any character in the series could ever suffer... being locked in a small room while Shirogane sings. Heaven have mercy.

The absurdity of it all and the stupidity of the characters is 100% why we're here. Well, that and the fluffy fuwa-fuwa doki-doki emotions we experience from watching Kaguya and Shirogane FINALLY make some of the most substantial progress in their relationship yet. The finale of the season is a “needs to be seen to be understood” sort of thing, and has me absolutely chomping at the bit for that cinematic follow-up.

Runner-Up-Up: Birdie Wing -Golf Girls' Story-

“Golf requires goofy pants and a fat ass.” -Happy Gilmore 1996

While many of the outfits in this series are quite goofy, and a number of the asses are definitely fat, I like to think that Birdie Wing has shown that golf needs just a little bit more than that. According to Birdie Wing, golf also requires Mafia connections, amnesia, a shady underground golf teacher, the hypnotizing powers of pussy-stank, a wlw bent, and Gundam references aplenty.

Seriously though, Birdie Wing has no right making me enjoy watching, and being engaged as heavily with the sport of golf as it did. I'm not a sports show girl, it takes a rare and special series to make me tune in for the scores and drama and, well... Birdie Wing is definitely both rare and SPECIAL. Anime is the only medium that could give us mob-backed underground life-or-death golfing and get me to type that sentence with a straight face.

If Birdie Wing was JUST empty spectacle it would still probably be a pretty good time. But it somehow manages to squeeze very real character work and emotional drama in between the physics-bending drives and mob violence. The incredibly sweet and genuine budding relationship and emotions between leads Eve and Aoi is the actual driving force behind the series, even if it's easy to occasionally lose track of it behind all the VR and mechanically randomized underground golf courses.

I find myself just kinda going in circles trying to talk about this show, unable to describe it any other way than wonderfully absurd and beautiful. Birdie Wing kicks in the door to the sports-anime-bar to a perfectly timed record scratch as the other series full of spunky, hopeful, and wide-eyed high schoolers stare in disbelief at the explosive assassination of a political leader the series features as a slight aside. It takes one look around the room and dares anyone to ask what ridiculous heights it's going to get up to next. And I am so ready to see what those heights are.

Runner-Up-Up: Sasaki and Miyano

Standing in stark contrast to that last entry is something rooted more deeply in reality and subtlety. Sasaki and Miyano is such a powerfully sugar sweet romance that I feel like even the most bitter among us can find themselves drawn into the budding feelings between the leads. Along with being an exceptional example of the classic fluffy romantic comedy, Sasaki and Miyano also proves you can have your pining, and actual advancement of the relationship too.

It's one thing to have characters in a series who are genre-savvy, aware of the tropes of the story they exist in and able to note when they're happening, but it's another thing I think to have a lead who is savvy of the genre he's in (in this case Boys Love) and also in complete denial of it happening. Miyano loves to love Boys Love, but dang is the boy is in such deep denial about what that means for his own romance. I think one of the strengths of our uke-adjacent lead is that, while he spends part of the series in denial about his sexual preferences, it never comes off as paradoxically homophobic or anything. Instead we just get a young guy who had never thought to consider that liking other dudes was an option for HIM specifically, and I feel like that is a pretty relatable feeling.

I'll admit that I was worried going into this series that it was going to be yet another single coeur MLM/WLW series that spent the entire time on setting up the central relationship without ever reaching the payoff, (a trend I've been seeing a bit more often than I'd like lately.) I was then incredibly pleasantly surprised when the series ends with an actual substantial step in the advancement of the central relationship. It sounds minor, but when it comes to romance, I'm not just here for pining and longing looks- I wanna see some actual payoff dammit!

Sasaki and Miyano was never the most lavish production, but it certainly did know how to spend it's budget smartly. Things never looked awkward, or off model, and even if they weren't an incredibly extravagant effect, the colored shapes that would float by during the particularly soft moments never failed to make me melt and feel the gentleness and emotions of the moments. And I think that's the best way I could describe this show's strengths. It always made me feel the softness, the tenderness, and the love infused into it, and that sounds like the most you could ask of a romantic series.

Honorable Mention: I'm Kodama Kawashiri

I love short form series. I still consider Working Buddies to be one of my favorite anime of the past decade. The format, it seems, is ironically often allotted more freedom than its full length brethren. The amount of creativity that has to be utilized to tell a story, move a character forward, or make a point in three to five minutes can be startling. But that this series just uses that time to be painfully relatable is possibly even more impressive.

For a series that is sixty-six percent opening by volume it is astounding how much they got me to care about the titular character of Kawashiri. Maybe it's because I too am constantly procrastinating on any given project I'm currently working on, or wish I could just eat fried foods and drink beer for every meal, or have also made attempts to game the sleep system that have all ended in abject failure. I'm not sure, but I do know I would die for this pitiful little kappa woman.

And maybe that's the magic of Kodama Kawashiri. She doesn't need to strive for something profound, or accomplish amazing feats, or dig into the deep levels of the human condition and examine what it truly means to be a person for us to love her and enjoy our time with her. She just needs to remind us that, it's okay to occasionally have a mini-mart dinner or linger in the bath knowing full well there are things we need to be actually accomplishing. That deadline can totally wait, and there's no way this will come back to bite us in any way. We're all human, we're all flawed. We should all take time to slow down and let ourselves be just a little slothful sometimes. You should be kinder to yourself. I should be kinder to myself. I'm Kodama Kawashiri. And You are too.

Best Character of the Year: Riko (Made in Abyss Golden City of the Scorching Sun)

***This is one of the first times I feel like I need to tag one of my entries with a SPOILER warning. So if you haven't watched the latest MiA season and have plans to, maybe consider skipping over this entry. Just know that I highly recommend it!***

It feels a little odd giving this award to a character who made her premiere in animated form several years ago but, while Riko in the first season and movie was fantastic, I find that this season was the one where her character really materialized and compelled me. As good as she was in that first coeur, she did unfortunately spend most of its incredible final act sidelined and unconscious, so it was difficult to fully appreciate her impact. Similarly the movie felt like more of Nanachi and Prushka's story than Riko's, again making her feel like a supporting character in the story she is technically the protagonist of.

One thing that really stood out to me as Riko progressed through this latest season was how easy it would be to take her optimism and positivity for granted. Riko has seen, done, and been involved with horrors both natural and man-made beyond comprehension, but she has been left in a situation where she isn't allowed time to deal with and internalize any of it. She is being forced, constantly, to push it down and forge ahead, because to lose to her traumas and emotions now means death. So to see her allowing herself to blanket that trauma in her genuine love and fascination for the Abyss can really come across as one of the most heroic things she's done, at least for herself. She knows that she will have to confront these things some day, but she also understands that now is just unfortunately not that time.

Riko's empathy, despite the depths of human cruelty she's had to face, is perhaps the most important thing she contributes to the tenacious trio that is her, Reg, and Nanachi, and it is on full display in this season. The way she frees Vueko without a thought, the way she can answer Wazukyan's final question with her characteristic sense of wonder, the fact that she was able to forgive Maa and by extension get ME to forgive Maa. She is constantly showing that, despite the growing and impossibly heavy burden on it, she still has a heart, and that might be the one thing keeping her from becoming like so many of the other people she has encountered on her journey, and the thing that defines and separates her from the other White Whistles.

Honorable Mention: As I mentioned before, Call of the Night ran the risk of sweeping this whole year. So my CotN character shout-out goes to Seri Kikiyou: The far too relatable ennui-afflicted vampire gyaru.

Best Moment of the Year: Rose's Arm (Birdie Wing -Golf Girls' Story-)

Were there more emotionally affecting and deeper reaching moments in anime this year? Oh, absolutely. Are there any real ramifications or far reaching consequences from this event? Not really. But when I tell you that not a single other moment this year got the kind of genuine audible reaction that  came out of me when Rose's futuristic robot arm prosthetic exploded out from beneath her glove, I am being absolutely serious.

Birdie Wing had me thinking I was fully prepared for it, that I knew exactly what level it was operating on and that, while it may be able to impress me with the depths of excess and ridiculousness that it could reach, I didn't think it would have the ability to fully surprise me. And then, despite my acceptance of the mechanical modular underground golf course they were playing on, I was NOT actually ready for the reveal that Rose had a gosh-danged ROBOT ARM. And the way this information is presented to us, with it exploding off her body after making a drive? I just couldn't. I screamed. I cried. I died laughing. I said “No” repeatedly, I asked “Why?” just as often, and I had to pause and catch my breath. No one else is out here doing it like Birdie Wing, I still have trouble believing this moment actually happened on screen like that in a series about GOLF!

The fact that such a short moment could produce so many emotions and at such intensity means that I couldn't give this award to anything else. Please, if you haven't, watch Birdie Wing. This show is the completely fake real anime that anime deserves and I love its absurdity with all my heart.

Honorable Mention: I almost gave this award to Call of Night's first episode when Nazuna and Ko take flight at the end. The insert song kicking in, the ethereal lighted sky that is almost synonymous with the series, the lingering beginnings of a budding romance, absolutely incredible visual storytelling.

Best Theme Song of the Year: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang by Queendom (Ya Boy Kongming)

I was unsure about Ya Boy Kongming when the spring season first started up. Just reading the synopsis I didn't know if the series could actually execute such a unique concept. Before I could make a decision though, my partner rushed over to me with a video he'd found on social media and together we watched the OP for the series with all of its incredible imagery and energy as this monstrous ear worm of a song belted out alongside it. After watching that, there was no more need for waffling. I knew we were going to watch the show.

That alone should speak to the strength of the OP. The point of an opening number is to get you in the mood and headspace for the piece of media you're about to enjoy, but in this case it was the single most convincing advertisement that could have possibly been made for the series. The raw “getting hyped in the club” vibes of the song, the positively excellent energy of watching the cast dancing along or engaging in hilarious music video style shows of excess, it makes it impossible to not have a good time while it's playing. And I think Eiko herself would approve considering that all she wants to do is spread happiness to the world through music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNn9NxZH2Vo Honorable Mention: All three Creepy Nuts tracks from Call of the Night have not left my mind (or playlist) since the show ended. I'd be hard-pressed to pick only one of the three as a favorite, but considering their own Yofukashi no Uta was the inspiration for the series itself, it feels fair to give it to that one especially. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zArhnXbh3Yc https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OndK9RknCYU https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6WjVGEVbNc

Best Movie of the Year: One Piece Film Red

So here's a fun story: A buddy of mine hit me up asking if I'd be interested in going to see One Piece Film Red in theaters with him. He'd gotten a pair of tickets but his friend he was going to go with had to drop at the last minute. I told him I'd be happy to go, but I asked, since I'd only ever read maybe a couple dozen chapters of One Piece and picked up some other bits of info through cultural osmosis, if he'd be okay with me occasionally leaning over and asking who someone was or if I was supposed to know something from the series or not. He then confessed that he knew even LESS than that about One Piece and had primarily gotten the tickets because the buddy who had dropped was a huge fan.

I think that is able to speak more to the strength of the movie than anything else. If you at least know the basics of how the world of One Piece works and who the Strawhat Pirates are, you are going to be able to enjoy this movie I can assure you, because I absolutely did. And I didn't just enjoy it, I fell in love with it. More-so than anything else, this film has gotten me the closest to finally going back and tackling the insurmountable task that is “catching up on One Piece.”

I'm a fan of musicals, and especially love when an anime is a musical (Go watch Starmyu) but after Uta's bombastic performance of “New Genesis” I had just assumed it was a clever diegetic opening number. But when she started singing again during the lighthearted battle with the various pirates during “I'm Invincible” my attention was once more piqued. And when she unleashed the absolute banger that is “Backlight” during that heartbreaking confrontation, I knew this was something very special.

And perhaps, fittingly, Uta is that special something that made the movie so great. The combined performances of Kaori Nazuka (speaking) and Ado (singing) help bring to life a character who is so much more compelling and deep than I was prepared to give her credit for going in. This movie is just as much, if not more, her story than that of the Strawhat Pirates whose series it occupies. From what little One Piece I had engaged with I was already quite taken with Shanks, but his daughter has proven to be a character who I hold even more near and dear to my heart.

If you're a One Piece faithful, you've probably already seen this movie. If you're a One Piece casual who has been waffling on it, do yourself a favor and see it now. And if you're a One Piece Newbie or just someone who has heard a lot but never taken the leap, this is your ship coming in, and it's time you climbed aboard.

Worst of the Year: The Yakuza's Guide to Babysitting

***Disclaimer: I only vote a series “worst of the year” that I have watched all or the majority of. I will not vote for something that I tried for one or two episodes and dropped due to not liking it, so this often ends up as more of a “least favorite” or “most disappointing” category. I also will NOT vote for something with an infamous reputation. I know by word of mouth of some truly ABYSMAL shows, but I didn't watch them, so it's not fair for me to give them that flack (No matter how well deserved).***

With the now usual disclaimer out of the way let's dig into the crimes committed by this series and the manner in which it has disgraced the family name. Don't misunderstand my thematic hyperbole, Yakuza Babysitter is by no means an abhorrent show, but it is a series that seems to have somehow misunderstood its own core concept and the potential contained within.

Lots of people, myself included, love the comical juxtaposition of something like members of  organized crime syndicates and mundane heartwarming activities, just look at the explosive popularity of the Yakuza game series. However when you do something like this you need to nail down what the very specific tone or tones you're going to be working with are and present them fully and succinctly from the beginning. Which is not something YGtB ever really did? The beginning of the first episode implies that we're going to be primarily in for the cross-section of Toru's violent, unhinged personality and the sweet and innocent activity of caring for a young child. But we rarely ever see Toru enact that much violence, and when we do it's always for the sake of others, or in the name of righting wrongs. We never really actually SEE much that reinforces what we're constantly told, that Toru is an madman on the edge, only barely contained by the family head's strength of will.

And that's where the series mostly drops the ball. We're constantly being told things, but never shown the evidence of their truth. There's this mysterious and threatening individual who pops up at the end of several episodes to attempt to spread a foreboding cloud over the future, but the rest of the series never commits to this concept (at least not up til the eighth or ninth episode when I finally gave up.) Though frankly I wouldn't blame anyone for dropping during the absolutely awful time of a head-scratcher that was the fourth episode. Here's a writing tip: Just because you've cleared the three episode test, if you haven't fully nailed down your core vibes and concepts, or even introduced all the members of your primary cast, it might not be a good idea to air an episode that you admit UP FRONT is completely non-canon and is just wasting the viewers time.

[calpalirwin]

Spotlight

Summary: Ashton gets back to his craft

Word Count: 2.3k

And away, and away we go!

__

To say that watching Ashton under a year and a half of quarantine and uncertainty was difficult would be an understatement. Watching him ride out his lowest lows as he chased for the slightest high broke your heart in ways you didn’t know were possible. Sure, there were the moments when you thought he was pulling himself out of his personal pit of hell- the immediate release of CALM a week into lockdown, the creation of Superbloom and its release, along with the mini virtual concert. But oftentimes your usually happy-go-lucky sweetheart of a boyfriend was incredibly short-tempered, the smallest of things igniting a wildfire of frustration that tested both your patience and relationship with him. 

It was a tense year and a half, filled with screaming matches, tears falling like broken glass, and slamming doors. But it was also a year and a half of heartfelt confessions, new routines allowing for renewed intimacy, and selfish desires that the time would stay stopped.

Oh, but the way he lit up like the sky on the 4th of July when he learned the news that he could go back into the studio with his boys? Worth every damn thing watching his grin as he circled the date on the calendar in a wide streak of black Sharpie. 

And when those studio days turned into rehearsal days? You thought he’d fall apart as he tried to spit out the words. 

“BABE!” Ashton’s voice boomed the second the front door opened, loud with excitement.

“What?” you asked, coming to greet him.

Your own cheeks hurt looking at the grin plastered across his face. “Rehearsals!” he whooped.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah!”

“For tour?!”

“Yes and no. We have a show!”

“ASHTON!”

“I KNOW!” His arms were around you in a flash, picking you up and spinning you around as both of your laughs bounced off the walls. 

“Dizzy, dizzy!” you called out to him still laughing.

He set you down on your feet, and then his lips were on yours in a bruising kiss. “FUCK!” he couldn’t stop laughing or smiling. “Baby, I’m so excited. I have a show. With the boys. It’s real. We’re back. If we get to do this show… God, baby, it changes everything. I- It means we really get to go back. We won’t have to keep postponing our tour. We can put out the new album. And…” the words fell in a flurry as the reality of what he’d been missing for so long being within arm’s reach again set in. A rogue tear rolled down his cheek. “Fuck, I’ve missed this feeling.”

“I’ve missed seeing you this happy,” you smiled at him, catching the tear with your thumb before brushing his wild hair from his face.

“You’re coming right?” he asked, his smile faltering as his voice took on a note of fear. 

“To the show? Of course, babe. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

His lips curved upwards again, but it didn’t quite match the smile he’d been wearing when he first came bounding through the door. “And tour? If we get that far? If we get that lucky?”

“Stop,” you said, holding his face in your hands. “Stop the spiral. Let yourself be excited.”

“But-” The doubts were beginning to rear their ugly head. He had already allowed himself to believe the covid shit was behind him once before. 

“I don’t want the rug pulled out from under you either,” you told him softly. “But allow yourself this moment, Ash. And we’ll deal with the rest later.”

His eyes fluttered shut for a second as he leaned into your touch. When he opened them again, the kaleidoscope of colors that were his hazel eyes were soft. “I-” he started, words of how sorry he was for all the times he snapped harshly at you, how grateful he was for you toughing it out with him, and how he selfishly wasn’t ready to start missing you again a trapped jumble on his tongue. “I-” he tried again.

“I know,” you interrupted, stretching upwards to nudge your nose against his. “I know.”

~~~

While he hadn’t been able to get the words out, he found a different way of expressing himself in a way that left you both breathless and at a loss for words. 

And when you woke the next morning, rolling over to find his side of the bed empty, despite your excitement for Ashton, your heart ached for the reality of what was to come of him stepping back into the spotlight. 

But the bed was still warm, suggesting it hadn’t been long since he had left, and when you stumbled downstairs, you easily found him standing in the kitchen, his back to you as he poured coffee into two mugs. “Morning,” you greeted, wrapping your arms around his bare waist and pressing a kiss between his shoulders.

“Oh, hey,” he said, turning in your arms to kiss the top of your head. “You coulda stayed in bed. I was bringing up the coffee.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he giggled. “What? Did you think I’d left already?”

Your shoulders shrugged as you let go of your hold on him. “Yeah.”

“Without saying goodbye, first? C’mon, you gotta know me better than that.”

You shrugged again, reaching around him for one of the coffee mugs. “Well, thanks,” you murmured, taking a sip.

He frowned as he grabbed the other mug. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N… C’mon, we’ve been stuck together in this house forever now. You think I don’t know when you’re hiding from me?”

“I- It’s nothing. When do you gotta meet with the guys?”

“Not for a while. Stop deflecting.”

You sighed. “The bed was empty, okay? Let’s face it. For the shitshow that’s covid, it gave us a lot of time. A lot of time we don’t normally get to share because of our jobs. And that’s all I want to say about it because I’m happy, Ash. I’m happy you have studio days and rehearsal days again. I’m happy you have shows again.”

“But you can be happy for me, and pissed about an empty bed. You can be both at the same time.”

“Yeah, but it makes me feel fuckin’ lousy, Ash. Like this is the reality of your job. We’re not strangers to it. I’m just being selfish.”

He chuckled, taking your coffee mug from you and setting it along with his on the counter. “I’m not ready to miss you either.” Then his arms were pulling you in close to him, his hold both strong and gentle. “Wanna be selfish with me before I have to leave?” he asked, his breath hot on your neck, the kiss hungry as it traveled up the column of your throat to your lips. “Be selfish with me until we can’t.”

And how could you deny Ashton’s request when he held you, looked at you, and loved you the way he did?

~~~

A couple hours after Ashton left for rehearsals, you left yourself to go surprise him. The house was too quiet without him, and rehearsals were different from regular studio time. More special in a way you couldn’t put words to. 

For some reason you were nervous as you pushed your way into the studio, his head snapping up at the sound of the door. “Baby!” he grinned up at you from where he was sitting on the floor next to Calum. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d surprise you guys. Bring you all some lunch,” you said, holding up a food bag as proof. 

“You’re the greatest,” he beamed, pushing himself up onto his feet and crossing the room to you. 

“So you rehearse on the floor?” you questioned with a teasing smile.

“Well, we were taking a small break,” he told you with a sheepish smile.

“We were actually ordering food, but this is way better,” Michael chimed in, taking the bag of food from you, and giving you a quick hug hello. “Ash is right. You’re the greatest.”

“Yeah, best surprise ever, especially for Mike,” Luke laughed and Calum nodded in agreement.

Happy chatter ensued as food was passed around, Ashton sitting as close to you as he could, his nerves making the tips of his fingers shake. “You okay?” you whispered, gripping one of his hands tightly in yours.

He nodded. “Yeah. Just nerves about getting back into things.” He gave you a quick kiss before getting up to go sit at his drum kit. And how he could manage to look both so at home and so vulnerable at the same time was beyond you. 

You looked over at the other guys, wondering if they were seeing what you were seeing, and Calum nodded knowingly at you while Luke and Michael offered up sad smiles of confirmation. Sighing, you got up and made your way over to Ashton, wedging yourself between him and his drum kit. “Talk to me,” you urged softly.

“It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” you agreed. “But you didn’t stop being a musician. You still played. You still made music this whole time.”

“What if we mess up? What if I mess up?”

“What if you don’t?”

He scoffed lightly. “I’m being serious, Y/N.”

“I am, too. Look, Ash. These are your boys. Playing music with them is what you were born to do. And I’m pretty sure they’re having the same worry as you about messing up. And it’s okay if you guys mess up. That’s why you’re having rehearsals.”

He let out a slow breath. “Yeah… Suppose you’re right.” He pushed his hands through his hair, taking another slow breath. “Okay. Okay, I can do this. Muscle memory.”

“Muscle memory,” you smiled reassuringly at him, draping your arms across his shoulders and leaning your forehead against his. “You got this, baby.”

“Will you stay? Having an audience… having you… It might help.”

“Of course, babe.”

~~~

The night of the show, you stood off to the side and out of the way as Ashton and the guys talked with the press about being back after almost two years of not playing a show together. You watched with a smile at the way Calum and Luke started humming their responses, and Michael took over the conversation when Ashton started fidgeting with his hands, giving Ashton that brief pause to collect his thoughts and settle his nerves. 

“Muscle memory,” you reminded him softly when they all came back to prepare to go on stage.

“Muscle memory,” he nodded, shrugging out of his jacket. But his hands still shook as he draped it over a chair. So you grabbed them, holding them still in your own hands. “Fuck, I hate this,” he whispered in defeat.

“You’re allowed to be nervous, Ash.”

“I know. I just hate it. Of all the feelings I’ve missed, this isn’t one of them.”

“So focus on that. Focus on how great it feels knowing that there’s a crowd of people out there waiting for you guys. And fuck the rest.”

“It really helps that you’re here, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t miss this moment for anything.”

“I-” he started, but a stagehand came rushing through, ushering them towards the stage.

You kissed him swiftly. “I love you, too. Now go be amazing.”

Again, with a smile plastered on your face, you watched them from the wings. It was effortless how easily they fell back into performing live with each other, as if covid had never stopped them. The perfect team of brothers. 

Ashton’s eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree when he came backstage, a sweaty smile on his own face as he hugged you tight. “That was amazing!” you beamed.

“That!” He pointed a finger towards that stage. “That I’ve missed!”

“This!” You grabbed his face in your hands. “This is the Ash I’ve missed.”

“I was trying to tell you something before I went on. Something I’ve been trying to tell you for a while now actually.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah… I, um… Fuck, I dunno why this is so hard for me. But I wanted to say thanks. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to love lately. I know I’ve been more moody than usual under covid, and I know I’ve taken a lot of my frustration out on you.”

“Ash-”

He held up a finger, cutting you off. “Lemme finish. I- I know I hit some of the lowest lows I’ve hit in a long time because of covid. And I know this shit’s far from over, and there’s probably going to be more rough moments as we get back into the swing of things after so long. But thank you, okay? I dunno what I would’ve done without you.”

“Ash-”

“Hold on. There’s one last thing. When we go on tour, I want you to come with us. If you can, of course. I just… I’d rather not miss you if I don’t have to. I- I need you. In a way I never thought I’d need someone. And for reasons I don’t think I’ll ever understand. But I need you.”

“Can I talk now?”

“Yeah.”

“For as much as covid has sucked, it gave us a lot of time to be together. A lot of time we didn’t have before.”

“You told me that already.”

“Shush. It’s my turn. We’ve seen the best and the worst of each other. And for all the times we could have given up, we didn’t. Every unlovable moment, we just loved each other harder. And for a while I wondered why that was. And it’s like you said. For whatever reason, I need you the same way you need me. And getting to see you get back to being this happy again… I wanna keep seeing it. And I wanna keep seeing it in ways that don’t keep us apart. So… I was talking with my boss, and with the band, and your team. And this was supposed to be a surprise but…”

“You’re coming on tour?” he interrupted, voice full of hope.

“I’m coming on tour,” you grinned.

__

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996​ @creator-appreciator​ @philthepegacorn​ @myfavfanficsever​ @cxddlyash​ @youngblood199456​ @stormrider505​ @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​ @hoodhoran​ @metalandboybands​ @maybeememez​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @binxiboo​

[forever-rogue]

5 with Bucky?

-💛

Prompts | 5. “I’m sick of being useless.”

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings | language, mentions of injury, suggestive themes

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Let me come with you,” you frowned at Bucky as he vehemently shook his head. You threw your hands up in exasperation, momentarily contemplating pushing his chest to get your point across. You knew it would be in vain, so instead you put your hands on your hips and scoffed, “seriously, Buck? You’re just an asshole. You’re just saying no because you have some weird ego shit about it.”

“You don’t need to come along this mission,” he insisted, keeping his composure as you were the one that was nearing a meltdown. You hated how calm he could be, especially when you wanted to get an actual answer out of him, “it’s not safe. Sam and I will handle it on our own.”

“I helped you idiots in Europe, in Madripoor, and here in New York,” you reminded him as he hung his head and sighed lightly. There had definitely been some wild adventures as you’d tagged along with the two of them. The first time it had been inadvertent and you’d just happened to be there along with Bucky. The other times you’d invited yourself along, much to his chagrin, despite proving useful, “I can do this. I can help. You know I can.”

“But we don’t need you to,” he insisted, flexing his jaw in the way that would normally make you want to jump him then and there. Today it just worked to put fire into your blood, “we can handle it on our own.”

“You’ve been shielding me ever since we got back from Delacroix,” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest as you glared at him, “I don’t need you to protect me. I’m sick of feeling useless when the two of you are working and I’m left behind. I’m not a super soldier or anything, but I’ve got skills too.”

A tense silence fell over the two of you as you stared at each other. Bucky sighed as he ran a hand over his face as you attempted to push past him. But he was quicker and his vibranium fingers latched around your wrist in a firm grasp, “stop and listen to me for a moment and quit acting like a brat.”

“I’m busy being annoyed at you,” you pouted at him as he relaxed slightly when he realized you weren’t going to fight him off, “let me go, Buck.”

“The reason I keep you away from what we do is not because I don’t think you’re capable or that I don’t trust you,” he insisted as he pulled you into body as if you were nothing but a rag-doll. Your chest was pressed against his as he watched you closely, your breath suddenly hitching in your throat as his hands found your waist, “I want to keep you safe. Your safety is my main goal - my only priority.”

“Nothing’s ever happened,” you couldn’t help but chance at his lips as you subconsciously licked your own, “I’ve always been safe.”

“We both know that’s a lie, sugar,” he insisted, his fingers grazing over the scar on your hip from where you’d gotten stabbed by one of Karli’s Flag Smashers in Europe. Bucky had almost lost his mind at the injury and wanted nothing but vengeance, but that wasn’t him anymore.  Instead his focus had been on getting you safe and treated - everything else could wait for later, "or have you so easily forgotten about this? That you now have because of me."

"I don't have that because of you," you grabbed his jaw in your hand and forced him to look at you. His ocean eyes were tinged with fear but slowly melted as you stared at him, "I hope you don't truly believe that. It happened in the moment - it could have been anyone. I just happened to be on the receiving end."

"Exactly...it was you."

"It was a one time thing, baby," you promised as you brushed your lips against his, "its not going to happen again, I swear it. I know you protect me - I am also more capable than you think."

"Its not you I don't trust," he almost moaned into your mouth as you carded your arms around his neck, "its everyone else."

"I know," you agreed as your kisses grew more frantic, “but there’s always going to be shitty people in the world, but I know you’ll be there to help me. Fuck, I love you.”

“I would tear anyone from limb to limb if they even thought about hurting my girl,” he insisted as he parted from you to catch his breath. You gave him a moment to recollect himself before gently pulling on his dog tags and pulling him back down to your lips. 

“How do you think I would feel if anything happened to you, my honey baby?” you whispered before trailing kisses along his jaw, “I would hurt anyone that even came near you with bad intentions.” 

Bucky effortlessly picked you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom. His lips almost never parted from yours as he tried to keep you as close to him as possible. After having been denied of touch and intimacy for so long, he craved it more than anything - especially from you. There was nothing he loved more than getting to feel your skin on his skin, to feel your heart beating in time with his. 

"I love you, Bucky," he trailed kisses down your neck as he laid you down on the bed. He stopped for a moment as he studied you, a hand gently going to your face as he stroked your cheek. 

It was then that he reached around his neck and slowly pulled off his dog tags, letting them glint into the light for a moment. Your lips parted slightly as he gently placed when around your own neck, letting them fall in the valley of your breasts. 

"There," he leaned down to kiss you, "now everyone knows you're my girl. Don't take them off."

"Never," you promised him softly, "you're a fool sometimes but I love you so much, Bucky."

"A fool for being protective-"

"Overprotective," you grinned as he nipped at the skin of your neck.

"Fine," he smirked against your skin, "call me overprotective, but I still love you."

"I love you too," you promised, "now hurry up and fuck me."

"Yes ma'am."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Marvel Taglist (add yourself to a taglist here!)(strike-through means I couldn’t tag you - please check your settings)

@qhbr2013  @greeneyedblondie44  @april-showers-and-flowers  @softboiipascal @im-an-adult-ish  @patzammit  @niki-xie  @xxlovingfandomsxx  @startrekkingaroundasgard  @welcometothepedroverse  @actual-spawn-of-satan  @punkerthanpascal  @lazybeeches @someday-when-you-leave-me @justgivemethekeys @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday  @neptunesglow  @artsymaddie @haildoodles @amneris21 @star017 @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater @its–fandom–darling @ayamenimthiriel @alyispunk @djarinbarnes @edencherries @ashamed23 @sunsetskywalkerr  @nikkixostan @spookispunk @cable-kenobi @hrtsgetbrkn @ironicfoxes @iilwjbb @cc13723things @thenormreedus @gooddaykate @natthebattygeologist @sociallyantisocialbutterfly @n3ssm0nique @daughterofthenight117 @riddikulus-obsessions @imaginelover88 @saint-bvcky @banana-cheese-cake @sleep-tight1 @missstef23 @moonlacebeam @asylummara @wakandabiitch2

[binniesthighs]

[01:53]

nsfw. seo changbin. fem reader. soft sex. strings attached. 2.2k

✨ you've got mail! read below! ✨

wet hair dripping; just enough to send a slight shiver down every bone in your spine. smooth skin crinkles with the bedsheets just washed and your skin still dewy from the droplets that remain. under your head his hand snakes to cradle the back of your neck pulling you deeper into him.

the rest of your body caves at his touch tracing down your stomach to pull aside the robe which has untied itself around your waist. his fingertips tickle with his touch gentle enough to make you feel as if he fears he could break you. your bare and vulnerable form quivers for him as he presses his weight down upon you with a chest swelling with pink heat.

with him you bare everything: every single part of yourself you hide to yourself only for your own eyes to see. you share yourself with him now, taking immediate notice to how the way his eyes dredge over your body as if the very sight of you can satiate him. he grins, running his hand up and down your side threatening to tickle the goosebumps he creates himself.

your hands wrap their way around his back which stretches wide and fleshy, squishy even where his muscles tense and twist dipping his body over yours. his elbows dig deep into the mattress leading up to his hands which find the sides of your cheeks and caress into them as soft as seafoam. he smells of the scent which you keep trapped in your bed, and absorb into your own clothes to take in every bit of his comfort.

his lips attach with yours lightly at first, brushing over the space where you bite in your nervousness, but he doesn't even notice. he traces careful shapes into your mouth which feels too raw to be anything that you could never experience. the skin on skin of him becoming one with you like this is your safe place. a tiny grin forms between his lips as he presses deeply into your parted lips, teasing the warmth from his tongue against your bottom lip.

hips grind down harder, and press you into the bed where you feel a quick friction between your bare hips and his. his skin smells of the water caught up in sudsy soap that had existed on him only moments ago. you gasp, now realizing that it's the heat from his hardened member which presses into your folds teased open by your restless legs.

you gasp into his mouth, only for him to suck your breath right back into his own lungs. "bin--" you whimper, for him to feel the vibrations of his own name upon his lip.

"you want to do this?" he hushes between each careful kiss from him to you.

"yes." you agree, hands finding their way now to the sides of his face to rub over each and every curve, including the scar lined right under his chin.

changbin leads his way down your jaw, sucking harder as he trails to your neck and the soft parts to your nape. he nibbles, pursing his lips so that your sensitivity can feel every ounce of his attention. the soft wet of his kisses hits the air in the room, and your body cools from the shower. your hips buckle upward to beg him for more.

"impatient?" he tsks, "aww, baby..." he coos his words as if he wants to scold you, but you know he never could when its like this.

you're starved of him, starved from not being this close for so long, starved after life got in the way of you and him. being close with him as such, feeling the way that he loves you beyond words has been something you hadn't felt ever since life got more complicated.

you knew though he would always wait for you.

changbin takes the hint, kissing a couple last kisses directly into your neck while wrapping his arms around your back.

"i'm assuming that you want to be on top first?" he smirks; the same little sideways grin that makes you feel like you're beautifully melting from the inside.

you look up to him where his dark hair falls over his forehead. "mm, you know me so well."

the both of you switch positions, giving you all the space to do as you please to your boyfriend waiting patiently and gleefully under your touch.

"it's been a while." you begin, imitating the same kisses that he gave to you before. you paint them onto his chest, his neck, his collarbones, and waterfall then down his stomach as his sides twitch. his chest takes in each of his inhales deeply, allowing you to feel the influence that you now have over his body. his teeth bite as his lip after his eyes wander to your nails digging after each kiss you plant.

"god--feels so fucking good, angel." he laughs out with an air.

"i haven't even started yet?" you tease finally reaching down to his pelvis.

"just watching you...it's enough for me..." changbin throws his head back, partially to hide his obvious grin, but also to steady himself once you begin.

at first, you squeeze, giving his cock the pleasure that you know that he craves. from the single action alone his tip beats with the stringy pre-cum eager enough to drip to your hand. his thighs shake, and soon you feel his grip dig into your shoulder.

"look me baby." he asks, pulling you by the chin. he basks in you and how unreal you look just like this for him, and no one else. his hand falls, not able to wait a second longer.

your lips loosely part around his heart-shaped tip, letting your salvia mix with his own excitement and swirl on your tongue. you know he doesn't mind it sloppier, choosing to grant him the gift of hearing each and every one of your kisses to his head while running your hand down his shaft. every vein throbbing there bumps against your palm, prompting you to squeeze even harder. when it comes to him, you never have to be careful about being gentle.

deeper you let your mouth take him in, eyes rolling at the way that your throat feels tight around him and your tongue compressed. its a somewhat of a comfortable feeling, this. you take him all the way down, swallowing and pushing until your eyes water just slightly. you gasp, seeking air afterwards, and sinfully soaking up the way that he looks at you astonished.

"you want more, baby?" you ask while still pumping him up and down.

"please." he begs with legs shaking even harder, "anything you want to do angel, do it."

you nod, sucking in a breath to continue, settling into a rhythm finding what's comfortable to you, stopping every few moments to feel the way that you can make him bulge your neck. the slick of your spit wets him entirely and fills him to the brim with euphoria and each of those tiny gasps that you practically hear in your dreams.

"baby--you've got me...so, so close..." changbin breathlessly gasps with a bit of a loose smile as he tries his best to keep himself together.

you stop, knowing the exact cue. "so you're saying...?"

his chest, red with his pent up frustration flinches, and he sits up on his forearms. "...that if you'll let me, I'd like to fuck you now?" changbin's expression darkens, eyes hooded and focused, and nearly intimidating enough to make you feel small.

"oh?" you dip your lips into his neck to kiss your answer there, "and if i say yes?"

before you can say much more, his arms wrap their way around you again, guiding you to your back and the comfort of the cushion. he parts your legs, revealing your glistening pussy that's dripped to the inside of your thighs. he leans, taking his index and ring finger to slide between your walls that tighten around his stimulations. your back arches now too, and the chill leaves you--replacing itself with something much hotter that even feels like too much to bear with the thin robe.

changbin curls his fingers within you, pressing at your g-spot and then positioning to sweep his thumb over your clit, sending shock waves all through your body and through every limb.

"you like it like that?" his voice asks with a bit of a growl to it. "like it when if fuck your pussy in deep with my fingers?" he tilts his head in his sympathy, "it's not even my dick fucking this pretty pussy of yours and you're already such a gorgeous mess for me, aren't you angel?"

you nod, knowing that words wouldn't possibly be formed by your lips at the moment.

he removes his fingers slowly, careful to watch the way that you shudder from feeling the moss of contact. he greedily twists his fingers together, watching the way that your slick pulls clear between them. he pauses, making sure that he's got your attention through your light-headed gasps. one by one, he holds your eyes while pressing his fingers against his tongue to suck them clean.

"b-bin..." your voice wavers, as he finishes off with that same damned smirk. he moves over you like a shadow, pressing his chest into yours while giving you a taste of your own arousal on his tongue where both of your lips meet in the heady ecstacy of it all.

changbin aligns his hips over you perfectly, using a firm grip to push one of your legs higher and press into your torso. water droplets form in his hair from a trick of gravity, and drip onto you in cold beads just enough to soothe your burning chest. he teases his tip at first to your clit throbbing for attention, then moves lower, pushing in as both of you sigh out at the intimacy of how full he fills you.

your teeth grit feeling him bottom out and reach as deeply within you as possible, then he starts to thrust, slow at first--just so you can feel every inch of his length and the way that he can use it. moans shake up your chest and come hazily between your lips, then onto his when he goes to feel them on his own while picking up his pace.

your toes point feeling him work himself up even more hurriedly, and his breaths shake with the gruff of his groans tied along with them as he loses himself in your connection. changbin pushes our leg even closer to your body: tightening your hole around himself even greater, and sending delightful little whines from his throat.

you lose yourself in the rhythm of him, mind now blank except for how utterly close you feel to him, how vulnerable and malleable, how unscrewed but whole. he meets your eyes, never stopping, and within him you see everything that you love, and that you know that you always will.

your hands weave behind his neck, bringing him into a kiss that speaks fathoms more than you could never tell him out loud. you explore each and every part of him here where your lips kiss away and pull at his plump lower lip.

it builds within you, threatening and even a little terrifying: edging your whole body to the precipice of an orgasm made by him, and heightened by the way his head grazes you deeply and gives your own thighs a turn to shake helplessly. it all feels so otherworldly you know that you could never put it to words.

the wet of your pussy slicks around his length, and he exhales out your name before collapsing as close to you as he can get, repeating, "so fucking good for me baby, so fucking good."

the pressure builds behind your clit, just about to explode when you feel his own cum thickly pulsate within you and his heady gasps echo. he fucks it into you, still not pausing even when he overstimulates himself between your walls. he moans out beautifully as his form shakes over yours, the last of his thrusts still strongly coaxing your orgasm from you and right to him latching yourself to him in the most primal sense--with the arch of your back and the crescents that you decorate into his shoulder blades with your nails, the electric delight spreads over your whole being, leaving your open mouthed gasps directly into his skin soft and clean.

you shake with him, unmoving and entangled. by now, the wet has seeped into the bed, but it still feels just as comforting as it had done before. his arms tremble too when he rises to look at you in your afterglow. he too looks even softer somehow, and even more adoring.

"i think..." he pants slightly, "this is the point where i tell you how much i love you? and how i could do this with you for the rest of my life?"

"i think so." you beam, ruffling up his dark strands. "and this is the point where i say i'd do the exact same."

"forgetting something?" he sighs in content, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you already know how much i love you."

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[red-doll-face]

Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.

Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.

Slashers x gn nervous Reader

Jason Voorhees:

Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.

Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.

The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.

If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.

He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.

Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.

Michael Myers:

In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.

Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.

There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.

Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you’ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.

It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.

You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.

His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.

RZ Michael Myers:

This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.

As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.

An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.

So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.

Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.

Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.

Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.

He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?

He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.

Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful

Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.

So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.

Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?

Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.

I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!

[yoonpobs]

cold | pjm

pairing: park jimin x oc

genre: fluff, slight tsundere jimin, just cuteness tbh

words: 3, 339

summary: where jimin is ice cold but he wants you to warm him up (not in the way you think)

When Jimin pulls away for the first time in a year since you’ve met him during your movie nights, you suspect that something’s up. But, you also know Jimin—he would have said something to you if there was.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You good?”

Jimin sighs at you, frustrated and you can’t help but feel confused at the sudden shift of atmosphere. You thought picking La La Land was a good choice, but you suppose that since Jimin was a little emotionally constipated he didn’t like it as much.

“I’m not, actually.” He declares, tugging off the blanket that covered both of your lower halves and withdrew from the warmth that settled into the couch.

“Do you—” You contemplate on asking because being Jimin’s friend meant respecting certain boundaries, and you weren't intending to be that friend that stuck their nose in his business.

You choose to remain silent and purse your lips and settle back into the couch, though it felt a little empty without Jimin bunched up next to you. But he was an enigma of unopened thoughts, and the time you spent navigating the course of your friendship in the first few months was ... heavy.

He’d never tell you anything, let alone allow you to indulge in the greatness that was his mind. You’d always hear from Namjoon how much he looks up to and respects Jimin’s way of thinking and mindset, but you rarely get to see that part of him. Sometimes, you felt more of a seat-warmer than a friend. You appreciate him, nonetheless.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about it?” He pries you.

You shrug, covering yourself with the blanket in hopes that it masks your vulnerability and insecurity, too.

“I know you.” You tell him, “You don’t like being questioned unless you say something about it first.”

He purses his lips in a straight line and looks at you ... like he really looks at you. So much that you feel his eyes burning into the side of your head; as if he was attempting to unravel your mind and dig into its deepest depths to understand its content.

“I don’t …” He says after looking at you, head-turning to face the television. Was La La Land seriously still relevant now?

“But I’m asking you to ask me.” He says, and the look of surprise on your face doesn’t disappoint. You gaped at him, forgetting the fact that Ryan Gosling looked really handsome on the screen—because Jimin had just prompted you to ask him about his … feelings.

“I—I don’t understand …” You say, dumbly. He rolls his eyes at you, and you’re familiar with his expression because it’s the one he usually has when he wants to call you an idiot.

“Ask me how I feel.”

You open your mouth, then close it. Your words fail you because the entire situation was sprung onto you so unexpectedly, and you suddenly feel self-conscious about everything. Was this Jimin’s way of assessing you as a friend and throwing you to the curb after a year of being platonically involved with one another?

As if he could hear the millions of thoughts running in your head, he turns to you and grabs your cheeks in between his large palms, and this time you actually short-circuit.

Your intimacy with Jimin stopped at sitting next to each other during movie nights and embracing the warmth that your bodies radiated. Maybe even the occasional accidental brush of fingers when he hands you something, but besides that—Jimin was conservative with his touches.

You can’t lie and say that your heart doesn’t react differently, because for the most part of your friendship you’ve suppressed any romantic feelings that you had or could have had for Jimin. Mostly out of self-preservation because Jimin was just … Jimin.

Cold, aloof but still someone that cared deeply. Yes, he was emotionally constipated when it came to his own feelings, and yes —his gaze more often than not had you cowering in fear. But he never made you feel uncomfortable. Even in the silences, you spent with one another you felt safe. Home.

Not to mention, his entire brooding and stoic persona hit it really well with the women on campus—and the fact he was obscenely attractive. He and you were the types of people that remained just as friends. And suddenly, that could end tonight, too.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He hums, eyes chasing your own but you divert your attention away from him because your eyes tell.

You shake your head, “I’m just confused.”

And confused you were because this was a territory that was unheard of for you—much less for Jimin. If only you could telepathically speak to Namjoon right now because you had no idea what to do or say.

“Well, I’ll keep it simple for you,” He says, “ Ask me how I feel.”

He doesn’t ask you anymore, instead, he insists—as if there was a preconceived answer for you already in the back of his head. Maybe this was how he softened the blow.

“No.” You push him away, flustered. “I won’t let you friend break up with me like this!”

He raises an eyebrow at the sudden rise of voice you admitted, “I like being your friend even if you don’t—and—and I know that yeah, consent matters—but I do not consent to be friend broken up with.”

He listens to you, and his face is still in its signature blankness and you nearly scream at how you wished he’d display a little emotion or a reaction to your blow up. But it seems that between the two of you, you were the emotionally unstable one.

“I know I can be annoying and all over the place and loud but ...” You immediately opt to self-deprecate yourself because nothing could triumph the way it felt to do it yourself than have him say it to your face, “... you’re not allowed to leave me. Ever .”

You fold your arms across your chest and look away because what the fuck did you just do and your face was undebatably on fire right now.

As if he’s noticed the way your eyes widen in realisation, he holds you again—but this time he pulls you closer to his chest until you are forced to look up at him with your flushed cheeks.

“Silly girl.” He hums and you whine.

“What!”

“I have to do everything myself, hm?” He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ears and it was instinctual for you to pull away because you’ve never felt Jimin like this before. Close, and warm—and all yours.

“Jimin I don’t understand— mpf!” And it was like a scene straight out of a romcom, and you nearly forget that La La Land was still running in the background. You felt like the main character of your own movie, and Jimin was the protagonist's love interest because he kissed you.

Jimin was kissing you.

Kissing. Like lip-locking. Sharing saliva. With you.

He pulls away too soon for your liking, but you gape at him like a fish out of water.

“You—” You stutter, and he chuckles. You feel it more than you hear it because his chest was resting against your cheek.

“Do you understand now?”

You shake your head, “... you feel bad for me?”

He snorts.

“I don’t know if you’re actually this much of an idiot, or are you just hopeless in the romantic department?” He says, and you open your mouth in the offense, ready to defend yourself but he hugs you closer to him and all you could feel was him.

“Excuse me? I’m not an idiot.”

“I just kissed you and you thought I felt bad for you.”

You huff, “What am I supposed to feel! You never speak about your emotions to me, and the most I’ve ever got out from you was a chuckle from the time where I slipped in front of the entire campus during freshers week.”

“That was when we met, yes.” He hums, “Why did you think I’ve been with you ever since?”

You still looked confused and Jimin internally sighs at the way he let himself fall for a dense excuse of a human being like you.

“Cause … you felt 'bad for me?”

"Just because you air-quote it doesn't make it any different from what you said earlier ____."

He groans, “No you dumbass—it’s cause no one makes me feel things the way you do. Strange weirdo who slipped on absolutely nothing, and as a friend who forces me to watch shitty romcoms like La La Land.”

“La La Land is not shitty!” You gasp.

He blinks.

“Is that all you got from what I said?”

“La La Land is phenomenal! All from the artistic production, to the soundtrack—so I don't know why people keep shitting on it because personally I really enjoyed—” But he kisses you again, and you melt into him immediately.

This time he lingers for a bit longer, and when he pulls away you grab onto his shirt to keep him close. You realise your mistake and suddenly push him away, but his hold on you was tight enough to resist your poor attempt.

“I like you, dummy.” He says, and you gasp.

“Nooo.” You say in disbelief.

“I like you.” He emphasises again, and you gasp. Again.

“No, you don’t.” You tell him, and he sighs—knowing that this was going to take a while.

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I do .”

“Nope.”

“ Yes .”

“Nuh-uh—!”

He clamps his hand over your mouth and glares at you.

“Me. Park Jimin—likes you, ____ ____, and yes —I can’t believe I like a complete idiot like you, but I do because you fucked up and made me like you from the moment you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone so bad that it was probably the hardest I’ve ever cringed in my life—”

“Hey!”

“—but you quite literally stumbled into my life with your whirlwind of emotions and you made me feel things that I’ve tried to avoid my entire life.” He holds your chin between his thumb and finger so you’d look at him. And you know that Jimin never lies, but something in your heart doesn't allow you that moment of happiness for yourself.

“But I'm annoying …” You say, a little unsure. Jimin simply looks at you, and you're frustrated again at the lack of emotion on his face.

“Yes, you are.” Is all he says, and you gape at his audacity.

You huff, throw the blanket off your body and make way to grab at your belongings that lay idle on the floor next to the couch. You pulled away from Jimin who attempted to grab at your wrist and glare at him so vehemently that he looked taken aback.

“This isn't a joke.” You tell him, and you hoped you looked as strong as you sounded because you felt played. Jimin didn't do this—you were just the clumsy freshmen that somehow befriended him, and he had no way out of it. So you decided to give him a way out on your own.

“Wait—of course, it's not—where are you going?” He exasperates when you make a beeline go to his door. You've never seen Jimin move as quickly as he did, but he manages to secure a tight grip on your elbow.

You try to shove him aside all while you felt like an immense idiot for allowing yourself to feel this way. To feel so human, and raw when you were with Jimin when he hadn't shown an inkling of emotion even when he declared that he ‘liked’ you.

“____—what’s wrong? Is it because I kissed you without asking you? I'm sorry but— ” He apologises and you groan.

“Stop treating me like this!” You yell at him to cut him off, “I know I'm clumsy, and a ditz—but I have feelings and it's not cool how you're doing all of—” You gesture to the hand on your elbow and to your lips, “— this, making me feel things that I shouldn't be feeling.”

“You're missing the point—!”

“Am I Jimin?” You exasperate, and he lets go of you for a moment to allow you space. “You've never shown any sign that you liked me for the past year of being friends, and now you're telling me you do?”

You scoff, “If you wanted out of this friendship, here it is.”

You reach to his doorknob with your back turned towards him, but Jimin was far stronger than you and reached out at the same time; essentially locking you into your position with nowhere to go.

“Just let me go,” You sigh, “I'm giving you your out.”

Jimin turns your body to face him and you avoid his stare. He was taller than you so being locked against the door was a little intimidating, given the fact that Jimin’s stare was nothing short of intimidating.

“Why would I want out?” He asks you, and you blink at him as if he's grown a second head.

“Now you're just treating me like I'm stupid .” You pout, “Did you not hear what I said? I know I'm annoying and I'll get out of your hair, just let me go—!”

You pull at his wrist but he holds you tighter and uses his other hand to softly grab at your cheeks to look at him. You stare at him with wide eyes and mouth scrunched like a fish, and you're sure this doesn't look the least bit flattering at all.

“Dude!”

“Please don't dude me after I just said I liked you.” He grimaces, then sighs.

He proceeds to clamp his hand over your mouth, “Now I need you to listen to me. And I mean— really listen. Not the thing that you do where you completely ignore my point and go on some childish rampage of how I think you’re annoying and want out.”

You glare at him.

He sighs, “I don't know how explicit I have to be—but I like you. I like your presence, I like hanging out with you—and I want to date you. I want everything that's in the book of romance and relationships with you.”

Your eyes widened and you attempt to speak but he clamps down harder than you whine.

“I know I'm an emotionless brick but I've been with you for the past year and my physical presence is the way I show you that I like you.”

You blink.

“And, I don't know if you've noticed but I've been inviting you over every fortnight just to cuddle up next to you to watch movies that are cheesy as fuck because I know that it makes your heart flutter—” He looks straight into your eyes and you're sure he can feel the heat of your cheeks on his hand.

“—I didn’t say this earlier because I was under the impression that you were aware and that we were kind-of-dating but not really— clearly, I was wrong.”

You manage to rip his hand off in his moment of weakness and gasp, “Kind-of-dating? Since when did that even happen?!”

He pointedly looks at you, “You have a toothbrush at my place, half of your closet is in mine—you walk my dog when I'm not home, and I buy your favourite cereal when I do groceries.”

“But—”

“Nope—the only reason I explicitly told you tonight because it was now clear to me that you weren't aware—” He gestures to your frazzled state, “—and that you said you were going out with Taehyung. Alone. To a pizza parlour.”

You barely manage to respond because he exasperates, “Do you know how datey a pizza parlour is?”

You gape at him, “Well excuse me! I didn't even know we were kind-of-dating until a minute ago!”

He glares at you, “And you didn't even believe me when I told you I liked you.”

You fold your arms across your chest, “Obviously. You don't even hold my hand, and you've never kissed me until tonight.”

You punch his shoulder and he hisses, “You didn't even formally ask me out!”

“You’re a scaredy-cat and if I did ask you out you’d probably run away from me!” He exasperates with his hands in the air.

“I’m not a scaredy-cat and I won’t run away!” You argue back and you were suddenly aware of how close he was to you.

You look up at him and notice how pretty his eyelashes were, and how he does look at you with an intimacy that you've only seen for yourself. The look that he reserved for you.

“I'm asking you out now,” He whispers, cupping your cheek.

“Date me. Be with me.”

You scoff, “God. Can’t you even be a little romantic? It’s like you’re demanding me to be with you.” You respond petulantly like a child.

He groans, “I'm not going to grovel you if that's what you're expecting.”

“Tell me why then.”

He raises an eyebrow.

You clear your throat and fiddle with your thumbs, a nervous tick you have.

“Tell me why you like me.”

Jimin stares at you and you want to complain about his stoic expression but he cups your cheeks in his hands a little harder and forces you to really look at him—as if his face held all the answers.

And when you did, you see the desperation behind his eyes, the dedication that he possesses only for you. The way he looks at you like he's meant to prove something to you, and then everything made sense to you—he wasn't inexpressive—you were just too caught up in your own world that you never noticed.

“Jimin—” Your voice cracks but he shushes you, softly.

“Listen to me, okay?” He asks of you and you gently nod.

“I like you because you're here,” He starts off and you were about to scoff but he speaks again knowing your predetermined reaction, “You’re present— always. I don't mean just because we're always together, but because even when we're texting you're there. You're involved.”

“You're expressive in ways that don't need words to tell me anything, which is why I know you like me too.”

“Cocky, much?” You scoff but the burn on your cheeks give the truth away

He smiles a little before continuing, “But that's not it—I like you because you're patient. You stuck with me being emotionally constipated for the first half of our friendship, and yet you're still here.”

“Even though you nearly ran out of here spewing some bullshit about me taking you as a joke—”

“Okay … I may have blown it out of proportion.”

“—but I wouldn't want to have you any other way. Even if it took me literally trapping you against a door for you to listen.”

You melt into his touch and look up at him, “Do you really like me?”

“I really do.” He affirms you, and you tug him closer to bury your head into his chest.

“Can you hold my hand next time?” You ask, softly. And he chuckles against the top of your head, caressing it gently.

“Of course. That's the only way you won't run away from me next time, right?” He teases.

You whine.

“I'm never going to let you go.” He tells you, “You're pretty like this—all mine .”

You smile up at him and Jimin swears his heart melts to be rebuilt whole by you again.

“But you called me an idiot ...”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

You gasp, “Rude—!”

He shuts you up with a kiss more passionate, and a lot more eager that has your head spinning.

When he pulls away, you feel your heartbeat a little faster—especially at the string of saliva that connects your mouths.

“Mine,” He says. You can't help but nod.

His.

[crash-cinematic-universe]

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!!  (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names ,  @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling​ 

1. 

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up. 

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew. 

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture. 

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love. 

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames. 

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in. 

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him. 

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though. 

“That would be nice,” He said softly. 

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24. 

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces. 

2. 

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway. 

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower. 

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights. 

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it. 

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around. 

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though. 

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head. 

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

3. 

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers. 

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive. 

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death. 

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be. 

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep. 

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.  

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

 “What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants. 

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask. 

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.” 

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape. 

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away. 

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--” 

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins. 

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid. 

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away. 

 “Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed. 

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that? 

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top. 

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside. 

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.” 

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made. 

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

4.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it. 

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun. 

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology. 

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet. 

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.  

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways. 

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it. 

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine. 

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back. 

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad. 

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet. 

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear. 

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do. 

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

5.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him. 

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face. 

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime. 

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.