#PB HAS NO FUCKING EARS

[floating-pisces]

TOGETHER, THEN

[paigebueckerlver]

Wet dream

Summary: Paige has a wet dream about her "straight" roomie(reader), somehow Paige can't get her off her mind...but she finds a way

Warnings: smut, 18+, plot, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), Paige makes you feel good..

A/n: first post and I'm feeling fweaky.. ENJOY! (Did not proof read sorry for mistakes 😢)

1:07 a.m.

The touch of her roommate, feeling the warmth of her fingers against her back. The lingering scent of her vanilla perfume she always wears. Every inch she touched Paige's body...never missed a spot. Kisses on her legs, her soft cherry lips moving down to her heat.

Paige lets out a soft moan which awakens her sleeping roommate. She looks around still fighting sleep, turns her desk light on low to not wake Paige. She gets up from her cream colored bed to check on Paige. Paige is letting out slower groans so y/n decides to wake Paige.

"P?... are you ok?" As Paige hears her roommates voice she shoots up from her sleep tiredly rubbing her eyes to answer. "mmh? why are you up so late y/n?" Paige opens her legs a bit to stretch but y/n notices a wet spot on her bed. "Did you have a good dream Bueckers..?" Paige is still confused and her roommate points to the spot on her bed, Paige, embarrassed shoves her face into her hands. Y/n giggles as she sits next to Paige wondering what her dream was.

"Wanna tell me what that dream was about? Or who...?" Y/n smirking a bit. "N-nothing I don't remember" Paige quickly trying to save herself from this moment. "I think you know exactly what that dream was about Paige." Her roommate says as she lifts Paige's hands from her face to look at her. Paige takes a second to admire the hot roommate she's thought about for months. She was wearing a loose white tank with no bra so you could see a little under due to the dim desk lamp, Paige's red plaid pj's that fit her hips perfectly. Y/n's eyes still watching Paige as she studies her body. "Like what you see P?" Her smirk is growing bigger. "Fuck" Paige breathes out while moving her eyes back to her roommates. "You don't know how badly I have thought about you since the day you moved in y/l/n" Paige says as she's now putting her slender fingers on your thigh inching to your heat. "Oh really... I think it's time I switched .. I need you PB" As soon as Paige heard the soft spoken girl say the last word, she doesn't take a second to pull the girl on top her lap shifting her hips perfectly on her thigh. "Fuck you don't even know what I wanna do to you right now baby" Paige explains. "Show me then." Y/n whispers into her ear. Next thing you know Paige smashes her pink lips onto her roommates cherry ones. during this intense make out , y/n is grinding back and forth against Paige's thigh letting out whimpers here ad there. "Paige I need to feel you" the roomie says. Paige turns her around throw her onto her back and getting between her legs. "Paige!" Y/n yells not expecting Paige to do that. "Take them off" Paige says sternly pulling on her roommates pj's . Y/n complies and slips them down and throws them somewhere in their shared dorm,leaving her in her Calvin Klein grey underwear. As she does that Paige does the same leaving herself in her black boxers. Paige kisses down y/n's neck leaving light marks on her , knowing she isn't necessarily "gay"

Her roommate groans at the dirty touch of Paiges lips. She hears this and smirks against her neck moving down to her boobs. Paige looks at y/n for consent, she nods implying to go ahead. Paige lifts her tank, the yellow dim light reflecting off her roomies pierced nipples. Paige takes her mouth over one, licking and sucking her nipple, her other hand playing with the other, pinching and rubbing it. "Omg Paige, feels so good" y/n breathes out due to the pleasure she's never received by any man. Paige moves lower until she gets to her heat. "I'm gonna make you feel s'good pretty girl" as soon as Paige finishes the sentence, she dives into her roommates pussy, pulling her underwear to the side. Licking up all of her wetness and letting it drip from her nose.

"FUCK P, h-holy shit" Paige smirks and starts sucking harding and licking long strokes over your clit, she moans at the new pace “too fast P, s-shit” y/n whimpering at the feelings of her roomies tongue on her pussy. Paige shakes her head back and forth “You can take it come on” she speaks firmly and dominantly.

She pulls away from her pussy, and takes her two middle fingers to y/n's mouth. Shoving it deep until she feels her finger tips touch the back of her throat. Y/n leaking from the mouth, sucking and licking every inch of paige. Paige takes her fingers out, teasing her rommates tight hole. "I want you to cum for me, you got that y/l/n?" Looking up at her roommate, laying there with a sloppy mess all on her face, slowly dripping to the side of her cheek. "Y-yes P, please just touch me, I need you s'bad" She enters her wet pussy. fingers deep inside her as her thumb comes to rub on her clit “Too much baby. it’s too much” her roommate whimpers at the overstimulation. That sounds only motivates Paige.

Her fingers curling inside y/n, her mouth agape due to the overwhelming feeling over Paiges fingers inside her. “i love seeing you like this, all slutty and vulnerable for me" paige rambles, her eyes lock y/n's , holding a deep an intense stare. Paige continues to finger fuck her roomies tight hole, going knuckles deep into her, letting her juices leak out. "FUCK BUECKERS IM GONNA CUM" y/n yells not being able to hold herself back anymore. "Cmon be my good girl, cum on my fingers, let me hear it" Paige says as she's watching her roommates limp body under her

“P-Paige I can’t” her roommate whines as her cum runs down her hand, the overstimulation starting to catch up even more. Paige rides out her high and she pulls away from y/n's sore pussy. “You did s'good for me mama, so well my girl.” praising her for being good for her. Paige gets up to grab a warm rag to wipe her tired roommate due to the action... After she's done Paige lies down next to her roommate trying to get comfy. Paige looks over to her, but she's already staring . "What?" Paige questions."tell me what that dream was about" y/n mumbles tiredly. Paige gets close to her ear, "it was a wet dream...about you sweet heart" y/n smirks, nuzzling her head into the crook of Paiges neck. paiges hand caressing y/n's back until they both fall asleep...

______________________________________________

HEY GIRLIES! I hope I served as much as I thought I did. First Tumblr post WOOOOO. Anyways I hope your week is going amazing, can't wait to write more fics for you pretty girls! 😘 😘

-Jay

[muniimyg]

6.5: baby 》 series m.list

note: oh my gawd ,, my friends !!! i’m so sorry for the wait! i was in my finals szn & tryna figure things out w my courses for my next sem … meanwhile ,, this entire ch has been brewing and consuming my mind like crazy! hope u guys enj ,, pls pls pls lmk what u guys think !!! i’m so glad i can finally push this ch out so lets fcking tawk abt it 😫

warnings: making out, mini fingering moment, raw sex, grinding, thigh humping ? ass slapping, pussy eating, 69, doggy style, cum shots & filming / sex tape vibes……… dirty talk / name calling <3 lol !!!

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook

//

Jungkook was afraid of this. 

From the moment he first made you laugh—oh, he knew he was fucked. Something inside him twisted and turned until his mind found ease from your very touch. Then, suddenly and all at once, every fiber in his body surrendered. Though he didn’t do the best job, he still tried. He tried his best to resist you and the feelings his heart felt. As his heart found rest with yours—it was then he realized that it was no use.

He was addicted to you. 

It’s like he’s a child all over again, tasting his favourite chocolate bar for the first time. It’s like he’s a timid high schooler trying weed and getting so high, that he’s already making plans to do this again tomorrow. Or, it’s like he’s a man falling in love for the first time. 

For real. 

No bullshit, just the plain and boring truth. No, he wasn’t only addicted to you… Jungkook is falling in love with—

“Cute room.” You step into his room and shut the door behind you. The room is dim, only lit with his warm lamp light and a few candles placed around. It looked romantic and for some reason, it did not scare you. If anything, it entices you. 

He was so thoughtful. 

Before you can look around any further, you feel Jungkook’s body embrace yours. He wraps himself around you, holding you tight by your waist and digging his face into the crook of your neck. He kisses you behind your ear, causing you to giggle from the ticklish feeling. At this moment, you take in the scent of his freshly washed hair.

Is it odd to say this has to be one of your favourite scents? You’ve grown to like it. If anything, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed when you see him and his hair isn’t a little damp. Something about him being freshly showered makes your heart race. His damp hair is a symbol of his priorities… And that priority is you. Not to mention, wet hair has got to be the most romantic look any boy could have… You’ve always told yourself that as a child. Now, here you are: standing in a room with a damp-haired boy clinging to you. 

Nothing makes you happier than this. 

“I think Yuna saw me—mmfphh,” your words are interrupted by Jungkook’s lips. He greets you with a peck before continuing to kiss you like it’s his last dying wish. 

His hands find their way to your hair, cupping your jaw as you kiss him back. Your lips sync together as if it’s been a lifetime since you two last did this.

Only it wasn’t—it hasn’t been.

It feels like it though. 

“Miss me much?” you ask, breaking away from the intense kiss. He leans his forehead against yours, wasting no time and letting his hands travel inside your shirt. You feel his fingers trace over your bra, quickly finding the clasp and undoing it with his one hand.

Impressive, you must admit.

Should you be mad at that? 

Jungkook smirks, “fuck around and find out.”

A small laugh escapes your lips as you raise your arms. He lifts your shirt over your head, leaving your top exposed. Your bra is barely hanging on and Jungkook can’t keep his eyes off your breasts. 

“How about a hi first?”

“Hi ___,” he obliges. Then, he taps his fingers together, bringing them close to his lips. Like a menace, he grins. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?” 

Playfully, you roll your eyes at him and respond by taking the bra off yourself. You fling it at his face, just enough for it to land perfectly on top of his hair. One cup covers his face and he takes a breath in. 

“Smells like you.”

“Smells like my boob sweat, you pervert.”

He takes the bra off from his face and licks his lips at the sight of your bare chest. “I can keep it in my pants… You on the other hand… A few nights ago? Drunk? You were coming on to me. Hard.”

You huff. “I was drunk.”

“You also said you’d hold my hand… Without arguing with me.”

“What? That doesn’t count. I was drunk.” Your words come out fast. It almost sounds defensive and harsh. “Jungkook, I was drunk.”

“Oh, I know.” He shrugs, taking the high road. “No need to be so uptight about it. It’s okay to hold hands, you know? The same way it’s okay to be obsessed with me, baby… This is a safe space.” 

The audacity! More than that, you wince at the pet name. “Who the fuck is baby?”

Jungkook ignores your question and takes a step closer to you. As he does so, he takes his shirt off. He then tosses his shirt to the side of his room where his laundry hamper is. As you turn your attention back to him, your eyes fall on his pelvis area as he begins to undo his pants. Then, he pauses when he notices your gaze. 

“Do it for me.”

You raise a brow. 

“Pardon?”

“Take my pants off,” he points at the floor. “Get on your knees and take my pants off.”

For a split second, you hesitate. Earlier tonight, as you made your way over, you thought about what kind of mood he must’ve been in. You’ve seen Jungkook happy, irritated, tired, and even hangry… But horny in a needy and demanding way? Boarder-line desperate? Never. His doe eyes and goofy attitude can’t fool you… You’ve wondered about this. 

You’ve waited for this side of him. 

Perhaps it was your curiosity that answered for you because, without breaking eye contact, you fell to your knees. Jungkook’s gaze lowers as you bring your hands to his crotch. You palm him, feeling his cock and gulping at how hard it already was. Faintly, you hear him snicker at your submissiveness. 

He likes this. 

Slowly, you undo his pants and tug them down. In his Calvins, his raging boner greets you. Just as you slip your thumbs in between the fabric to pull them down, Jungkook grabs your wrists and pulls you to stand up. You follow his lead, confused. 

“I thought I was going to—”

Jungkook undoes your cargo pants buttons and tugs them down. He gives you no warning as he licks his thumb and slips his hand inside your panties. You feel his wet thumb rubbing your clit. Your breath hitches as he draws circles and then adds another finger into the mix. He deepens his rubbing, slowly but surely dragging his fingers around your folds. Jungkook then shifts his hand placement, quickly inserting a finger inside of you. The shock sends shivers down your spine and completely takes your focus. He adds another finger and it earns a lewd moan from you. 

“Ooh my god—”

Then, he stops. 

He takes his fingers out and examines the wetness. Your eyebrows furrow together, completely unsure of the pace he’s going at. How long would this last? Why couldn’t he just continue?

“Sorry, were you enjoying that?” Jungkook asks innocently.

It’s official: you hate him.

Dumbfounded, you shoot him a glare. “Maybe I was. Who knows? I wasn’t finished.”

Jungkook exchanges with laughter. “Finished? Five minutes in? Pookie, you give me way too much credit.”

You stick your tongue out at him, annoyed at how cocky he is. Truth be told, this suited him. The nasty comments and the edging… It feels like this should’ve happened before. It’s hard to explain but he just looks so comfortable with control. In a more unexplainable way—you can’t help but feel comfortable with it.

“Come on,” he nods towards the bed. “If you wanna finish, you should do it sitting on my face.”

His words make your tummy flip. Was he serious? The texts he sent prior to this.. You were so sure it was all talk. The most you expected was a quickie and a few nasty exchanges… But this? You don’t know what to think.

Jungkook lays on his bed first, gesturing you to follow. 

“Are you serious?”

With a flat tone, he answers: “Why would I joke about this?”

To be completely honest, he was a little offended you weren’t taking him seriously. Of course, he’s serious about eating you out. This was no joke to him.

Crossing your arms, you look at him in disbelief. “You want to do everything you texted me? Jungkook, there are people downstairs. Our friends are downstairs and—”

“I know,” he groans. “That’s why you need to shut the fuck up and sit on my face already. The longer we take, the more they will wonder where you are. Didn’t you say Yuna saw you come up here?”

“Y-yeah,” you recall. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

He hits his bed with his fist like a child. “Why do you always deprive me?”

You gasp at his dramatic question. “Deprive you? It’s just my body, Jungkook. Do you crave pussy this bad?”

Tilting his head, he looks at you softly. “You,” he breathes. “I crave you.”

A silence falls between you two, followed by a heavy sigh. 

“Look, I’m never going to make you do things with me if you don’t want to. I’m only demanding tonight because I just—I really need you right now. If you want to go downstairs and find Yuna, go ahead. We can do this another time… I just thought you missed me just as much as I missed you.”

“Gaslighter.”

He chuckles, attempting to hide the smile on his face as you get on the bed. Moving closer to him, he watches your hands roam from his abdomen to his jaw. Placing chante kisses on him, he stutters his words. “I’m s-serious. It’s fine. It’s just pussy.”

“But it’s my pussy.”

“True,” Jungkook agrees, leaning back and watching you place yourself on his thigh. “So fucking true, pookie.”

You lean in to kiss him. His lips chase yours when you pull away, only to grind your hips. He feels your wet pussy on his thigh and he feels like he could choke on air. It’s torture watching you throw your head back at the sensation. You can’t help but embrace the feeling of relief.

“You’re not finishing on my thigh,” he mutters, placing his hands on your waist. He lifts you just enough for you to get off. Laughing, he squiggles down the bed so you have more space. Before you know it, you’re making yourself comfortable on his face. As you straddle yourself on, you make a confession.

“W-wait, I’m scared! I don’t want to suffocate you—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jungkook snaps, unable to watch his tone. “This is literally all I’ve ever wanted so you need to shut the fuck up and let me have this.”

“Okay, okay,” you snicker lightly, as you sink into his face. “But seriously! I don’t want to crush—“

You don’t even finish your sentence. You’re cut off by the feeling of Jungkook’s hot breath against your pussy. Then, you feel his nose against your clit and the texture of his tongue brush against your folds. The feeling shocks you, causing you to lift yourself out of reflex. Just as quickly, Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you to stay. 

“J-Jungkook, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. You can and you will, got it?” he hisses. “Hold the fucking headboard if you need to. You aren’t going anywhere until your cum is on my tongue.”

You do as he says.

You lean forward, grabbing a hold of his headboard for support. 

Just as those thoughts immerse your mind, you feel him dragging his tongue across your folds. It begins slow and soft. It feels like kitten licks and if the word cute was a feeling… This was it. Then, he flicks his tongue and it’s everything but cute from here on out. You want to jolt, but you keep what Jungkook said to you in mind. Besides, there is no place in the world you would rather be at than here. Jungkook eats you out like he’s a starved man. He doesn’t miss an inch of your pussy and tightens his grip around your thighs each time your body twitches. 

Biting your bottom lip, you hold in your moan. 

He feels so good. His tongue against your wet pussy feels so fucking good—it’s almost comical how you were so hesitant to do this. Soon enough, you let go of the headboard and search for his hands. Like second nature, you and Jungkook intertwine your fingers together and finally, you close your eyes and give in. 

You can have this.

You can have him.

“Y-you feel so good,” you confess shyly. “You make me feel so good.”

Jungkook smiles against your pussy as you begin to roll your hips against his face. He knew it would take some time, but you’d eventually come around. No pun intended. 

“C-close,” you utter in between heavy exhales. “Jungkook—I’m close! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

You hold his hand tighter and push your weight on him harder. You feel him quicken the pace as he licks you and—holy shit.

Are those stars?

You cum.

Messy, wet, and hard. 

Jungkook moans against your pussy, taking a moment to bite your inner thigh. Your legs practically shake, causing you to completely rest your weight on his face. After a few moments, you gather whatever energy you have left and shift your position. You turn your body around and line yourself with his cock. Jungkook stretches his neck out to figure out what you’re doing. Before he can comment, your lips are already placing kisses on his dick. Your fingers dig into his Calvins and pull them off. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaking from anticipation. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what you were doing—he just couldn’t believe it. He’s so fucking lucky. 

“34 plus 35! Do the math,” you tease. “Keep it up, okay?”

Jungkook laughs, pinching your ass in response. “Keep up with me then.”

“Is that a challenge?”

He rubs the spot he pinched your ass and shakes his head. “I already have one point… Doubt you’re gonna catch up.”

“You could nut twice,” you suggest. Then you turn your head and shake your ass in his face. “For me? So we’re even.”

Jungkook bites his lips. “Then it wouldn’t be a completion.”

“I hate losing.”

“So do I.” Jungkook then wastes no time. He digs himself in you again, flicking his tongue at all the right times and places. 

You groan, hating how much you love this. You try to focus. After pumping him a few times, you stuff his cock in your mouth. Moaning from how thick he is, you suck him off. Your cheeks begin to feel a little sore after a few minutes, but by then his dick is up. He’s as hard as can be and you can even feel his veins come out more and more. Every time you pull his cock out, you make sure to be as loud as you can. The pop sound makes Jungkook’s blood rush to his dick and the way you suck him so sloppy and hard only reminds him of the time you did this in his car. That night, Jungkook had never felt more attracted to you. 

Your jealousy had consumed his every thought for days after. 

Just like that, Jungkook’s stomach twitches. He feels a rush and it goes straight from his dick and out.

Like a loser, Jungkook cums and whimpers loudly. 

“F-fuck yes. Holy shit, ___.. Just like that… Mhmm,” his breath hitches. “Fuck!”

Lips pressed against his dick, you let his cum spill on your face. Mostly, it hits your nose bridge and your upper lip. You shift off of Jungkook and kneel in front of him. He gulps, watching you with longing eyes. You stick your tongue out, bring your fingers to where his cum landed and taste it. You lick your lips and swallow with a cute moan. 

“Yummy.”

He hisses, and immediately takes you by the waist. You giggle, unable to stop it from becoming a laugh. “Did that turn you on, pookie?”

Jungkook glares at you, swiping a bit of his cum with his thumb. Without warning, he then shoves his thumb into your mouth. As you suck, he cups the rest of his hand around your jaw and ravishes at your beauty. 

A layer of sweat makes you shine, and the strands of your hair on your forehead never made you look so beautiful to him before. Your lips are perfect—puffy and tainted with his cum. Your eyes—god, your eyes… They’re smiling at him and he swears he has never felt his heart flutter like this ever. 

As you sit on top of his dick, you roll your hips against it. When you do this, both of you watch it happen. You lean back, planting your hands on each side of his legs. Jungkook watches as your folds drag and split open against his cock. You can’t help but let out hitched breathes as you take in the feeling of his member. How his veins feel against you. How his soft skin feels as you soak it with your wetness.. All of it. 

All of him. 

“You like that, hmm? You like grinding on my cock with your pussy all wet?” He pries, turning up his dirty talk. “Come on, baby… You know how I like it, right? Why don’t you be a good girl and put it in? Sink into it like the little cockslut you are… For me?”

You moan, hissing his name. “Jungkook, shut the fuck up. Just enjoy this.”

As punishment, you rub yourself on him harder. Each roll of your hips has more pressure and his dick feels like it’s going to explore. He watches, hating you more and more as his head turns red. You hump his cock, moaning at the sensation.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook whines. “I’m not gonna last even if you ride me.”

“Loser.”

He chuckles, too lazy to put up a fight. “Let’s go doggy, please.”

You think about it. “Beg for it.”

“Very funny.” Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He tosses you over and gets on his knees. You arch your back and get taken aback when Jungkook swiftly places a pillow under your stomach. You turn back to give him a confused look. 

“You might cramp.” 

Huffing, you bite back. “I won’t cramp. You’re gonna nut before I cramp.”

He rolls his eyes at you and tells you to shut up. You bite your bottom lip, even more excited and eager to feel him. Doggy style isn’t your favourite… But for some reason, it feels hot. Doing this with Jungkook makes your mind spin and you aren’t sure if your playful remarks are masking how nervous you are. Underneath your teasing, you have no idea how you’re doing or saying any of these things. How are you even doing this with him right now? It’s fucking wild. 

“Gonna put it in now,” Jungkook’s voice sounds a little parched at this point. “If you cream my dick, can I film it?”

His question catches you by surprise.

“Your face wouldn’t be in it… And y-you don’t even have to say yes. I just… I miss you sometimes and I think about fucking you a lot so a video would be—”

“I trust you,” you say, flipping to face him. “Honestly? I’ll film a bit of it. Bet it’ll get you off in the future.” Then, you reach over his nightstand and swipe on his phone to the camera icon. You hold it and press record. Jungkook smirks and you zoom into his face. 

“Cute,” you laugh. 

Again, Jungkook rolls his eyes but loves every moment of this. You go back on all fours and hold the camera out. It captures half of your face, a bit of your boobs, and your ass. Jungkook places himself at your rear. You watch from the screen as Jungkook spits on his dick before he pushes himself inside you. He thrusts a few times before you let out a moan. 

You bite your lip for the camera and let a giggle escape in between Jungkook’s thrusts. His breathing gets heavy as he picks up the pace and fucks you harder. 

“J-Jungkook,” you whimper. 

“Louder,” he commands as he fucks you. You close your eyes, taking in how good he feels inside you. He’s throbbing. He’s so fucking big.

“Oh my god, Jungkook! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder! Please, please, please!”

“Say my name,” Jungkook growls. “Say it louder.” 

“Fuck me,” you ignore his request. “You’re so big. I’m so fucking lucky. I love it. I love your cock so much!”

He slaps your ass. 

“Say my fucking name.” Jungkook pushes himself deeper into you, taking his time doing so. You hate how slow it feels now. “Whose making you feel this way? You’re so wet taking my cock in. Don’t be a bad girl… Are you a bad girl?”

“N-no,” you cry, feeling each thrust intensify.

“What are you then? My little slut? My fucking cock hungry slut? You won’t even say my name… You’re just a dirty bad girl. Fucking disrespectful at this point.”

“No, I’m not!” you feel tears begin to jerk in. “I love your cock too much to disrespect it—I,” you catch your breath, “I’m not a dirty bad girl!”

“What are you then? Because if you were a good girl, you’d say my fucking name… Say it. Be a good girl and say whose fucking cock you’re going to cream.”

“J-Jungkook!”

“Louder.” He pauses, leaving his cock to twitch inside you. 

“Please… Fuck me so good I cream your cock…”

“No. My name. Say my fucking name—”

“Oh my god, Jungkook!”

He smirks.  

Jungkook loves this so much. It does more than feed his ego—it ignites it.

He loves the way you say his name. He loves the way you call for him and how soft your tone gets when the sentence gets to his name. He absolutely fucking loves it.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you sob as he continues to fuck you. He fucks you rough, sloppy, and messy. You feel his dick slip in and out so easily that the friction is pure pleasure. 

“Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook,” you chant. “I’m not a good girl—I’m just…”

“You’re what?”

“I’m your girl,” you exhale. “R-right?”

Jungkook loses it. 

He fucking loses his mind.

Hastly, he leans over and grabs your tits. He fucks himself into you more and more, while biting your ear and kissing your neck. You moan and whimper, watching how hot it all looks on camera. Jungkook then rides his orgasm, not leaving you behind. He takes his phone from your hands and begins to film himself fucking you. The camera captures his dick going in and out of your pussy. How your ass bounces each time it hits his pelvis. It captures his breathy moans and his hushed, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

“J-Jungkook—I’m gonna cum! Oh my god, oh my god.”

And you do.

You cream his dick. As he pulls in and out of you, the camera catches your creamy release on his dick. 

It doesn’t take much after that. He isn’t sure if it’s just the heat of the moment or the fact that your brain is all fucked out by now—it doesn’t matter. The words that escaped your lips were enough. Jungkook cums hard and loud. He groans, hissing as he spills himself. You gasp when you feel his cock pull out of you harshly. Jungkook slips his one hand under you and flips you on your back. As you lay there, you watch as he pumps himself. He then aims his squirts of cum at your tits, and films as they land over your nipples. His breath is shakey from the relief and tiresome act and yours is the same. Except, you can’t help but let out a lewd giggle. 

Holy fuck, this was such a workout.

Like earlier, you take your finger and swipe some of his cum off your breast. Bringing it to your lips, you lick it and smile sweetly at him. He chuckles as he films it and you laugh. Really, you laugh for real. Then he laughs and offers you high-5. 

You laugh even harder, especially as you recall this being your reward. Even though it’s childish, you accept his gesture and feel special. Slamming your hand onto his, you lock them together and tug him towards you. He ends the recording just before he collapses on you. 

After all that, finally, you two share a kiss. 

A deep, soft, and much-needed kiss. 

The addiction to you was no different than an adrenaline junkie getting ready to jump off a cliff. No, there was no turning back. 

Your lips were addictive. The sweetness of everything your body would give him—it was like a fucking reward. Every saliva exchange, every drip from your pussy, to every tear shed while he digs himself deeper and deeper into you… He wants them all. 

As sick as it sounds, he’d lick it all up just to have you in him even more. Just to be close to you. Just to be closer. 

Every inch of you, he wants to devour. 

Like a starved man, he’d fall to his knees and beg for an ounce of kindness. A chance to satisfy you—a simple kiss, deepened by the second. Hands intertwined as you spread your legs for him as he places himself in between. 

As he leans his forehead against yours, he sneaks in a few pecks. “I can’t believe we have a sex tape.”

You roll your eyes. “Perv.” 

“You consented,” he sings happily. “Do you want me to delete it?”

You shake your head as he makes himself comfortable. “No… Send it to me later though. I miss you sometimes too.” 

A hearty chuckle escapes his lips as he snuggles into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him. Jungkook digs his face into his favourite spot—aside from your pussy—the cook of your neck. 

Sometimes. 

You miss him sometimes?

That’s a funny way of saying always. 

The muffled sound of music blasting downstairs and people chatting becomes evident. Yet, you two stay silent. Laying together, fingers and legs intertwined. Naked. 

When was it ever this easy? Why did this feel so right? Being with Jungkook has never been difficult—but when was it like this? When did things change? The sudden realization of the words you said while you two were intimate hit you. Were you really his girl? Did you want to be? Would he accept you if you asked?

Not only that but—when did you… When has it…

When did this begin?

These feelings.

There’s a tightness in your chest you can’t explain. Something that has been around for a while now. Long enough that you don’t remember when it first occurred and began to glow whenever he was around. What the fuck is up with that? 

As he fucked you tonight, that’s all you felt. Your heart was glowing. The closeness with him—regardless of how nasty—it was so special. It felt so good and like nothing you’ve ever felt. As you trace random things on his back with your nails, you hear him murmur, “mhmm… Yup. I love it when you do this, ___.”

It startles you.

When did you begin doing this? Being so intimate with him? Scratching his back, drawing hearts with your fingernails… When did this all happen? He says it like this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. Then, it gets hot. Suddenly, you notice how sweaty you two are and how it’s way too comfortable in his bed with him. You sit yourself up, causing him to follow. 

“I’m glad you came.”

“Pun intended?”

Jungkook pinches your cheeks and presses a kiss on your nose. “Whatever you want.”

You shove him away and get up from his bed. At least, you attempt to. 

Your legs feel shaky. He quickly holds you by the waist and catches your stumble. Looking up at him, you huff. “Look at what you did!”

“What?” he panics. 

“Jungkook, I can’t fucking walk!” You begin to freak out. “How am I supposed to go downstairs and act normal? Yuna is gonna ask so many questions and—”

“Relax,” Jungkook sets you down on his bed. “I got you.”

You sit and pout as he heads to his bathroom. When he returns, he has a black shirt and pants on. He holds a damp towel and collects your clothes off the floor. Jungkook kneels in front of you and begins to pat wipe your sweaty skin. First, your forehead, neck, and then he uses a face towel to wipe his cum off your breast. Then, he continues to pat dry your arms and in between your legs. 

Without exchanging words, he helps dress you. The entire time, he was careful and used a soft tone whenever he did speak. For the most part, he just looked at you lovingly. That look in his eyes… You know in your heart you will never forget. 

When you’re all dressed, a good enough time has passed for you to recover. Not fully, but just enough. Jungkook helps you get up and you hiss at the initial soreness. 

“Round two?” 

You hit his chest and roll your eyes. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

“Insanely hot?”

“Whatever you want.”

He isn’t sure what to do. 

You laugh it off, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know how. As you two look into each other's eyes, he feels his heart race. 

He should just say it, right? It’s easy. 

Spit it out.

___, do you want to go out with me?

Or should he do a whole confession?

___, we’ve been doing this for a while now… And I think I’ve grown an unhealthy attachment to you. I miss you when I’m not with you. When I’m with you, I never want the moment to end. Being close to you has to be my favourite part of living. 

But when he opens his mouth to speak—

“Should we go downstairs? I need water.” 

He blinks. 

“Y-yeah,” Jungkook reaches for the door. Then, as he turns the door knob, he stops himself. “One more kiss, please.”

Without a fight, you tiptoe and kiss him. Smiling into the kiss, he leans more into it and gropes your ass. You hit his chest playfully, signaling him to pull away. With great sadness, he does so. 

“I’ll go out first.”

Your words cut him deeper than a knife. 

Right.

You two aren’t dating.

You two are just fucking—in secret, at that. 

“Why can’t we leave together?” he asks, sounding a little desperate. “You said it yourself. You don’t really care if people know or not… I doubt anyone will even care.”

Shrugging, you nod. “Sure,” you answer him. “I’m not trying to hide us or anything… I just don’t really want to be questioned… But, considering I can’t really walk right now…”

He laughs, feeling like he saved himself from sadness. 

“Can we hold hands?”

You give him a face. “Don’t push it.”

“But you said—”

“I was drunk!”

Jungkook laughs, as he opens the door. Stepping out together, he locks his bedroom door as you continue bantering. Pushing past everyone in the hall, he can’t help but feel a sense of relief. 

It was a small thing. Leaving the room together and even suggesting to hold hands—it was a long shot but here he was.

With you.

Lingering fingertips and all. 

As you two head down the stairs, you’re immediately greeted by the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies. Jungkook leans into your ear and whispers, “ahh… See? We’re blending right in.” 

He’s talking about smelling like sweaty sex. 

You bring your hands to your face, covering yourself and the shyness that rushes to your cheeks. He laughs and you hit his chest for the nth time tonight. 

“Why are you covering your face? It’s like I didn’t just see you naked. Like I didn’t fuck you—”

“Oh my god!” you cover his mouth and look around to see if anyone heard what he said so bluntly. “I know I said I don’t care if people knew but can you relax? Don’t be so proud you fucked me.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Jungkook says sincerely. “Do you have any idea how admired you are?”

“So I’m a prize?” you laugh. “What a joke.”

Jungkook gawks at you. 

“Do you have any idea how hard I’d try to win you if this was the fucking hunger games? I’d die for you.”

You snort. “Did you even read the series—”

“No,” he snickers. “But you get what I mean, right?”

“Not really…” you trail, turning your head in an attempt to avoid eye contact. You aren’t too sure where this conversation was heading and perhaps you aren’t ready for whatever he has to say next. “Can we—”

“I won’t get all gushy and all because you’re going to get all self-conscious and then retort by saying I have post-sex feelings—but just know you’re it. The standard. A prize. Endgame.. All of it. You’re it.”

Too stunned to speak, your lips curve into a small smile. “Jungkook—”

“___!”

You and Jungkook turn your heads and see Yuna approaching with Taehyung. She smiles brightly, practically throwing herself at you. You catch her, hug her, and tilt your head in confusion as Taehyung whispers something in Jungkook’s ear. 

Jungkook lowers his gaze at you, gulping as Taehyung finishes his exchange and steps away. Then, Taehyung offers you a short lived smile. 

“Hey, ___. How are you?” Taehyung’s voice is calm and sweet… It’s so opposite from how suspicious he’s acting.

“Good…” you say with your eyebrow raised. “What’s going on?”

Yuna tugs on your arm. “Nothing!” She sneers at Taehyung and gives him a warning look. “Way to be discrete.”

“You said to follow your lead! You aren’t doing much so I—”

“You’re the worst partner in crime ever!” Yuna scolds him.

You shake your head at the two, feeling at home with their bickering. Taehyung and Yuna act like such a married couple most of the time they’re together—you were used to it at this point. In between their bickering, you glance at Jungkook who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. 

For some reason, you can’t make out what the look on his face is. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look sad either. He wasn’t angry… He looked… Eager? Worried? In agony?

“You okay?” you ask, moving away from Yuna and to Jungkook’s side. He slides his arms around your waist. You let him. 

Pulling you close, his lips shape into a pout. You cup his cheeks and squish them together. “Jungkook?”

“Wanna go back upstairs?” he suggests, resting his face on the palm of your hands. “Wanna get out of here? I’m suddenly not in the mood.”

“To what? Party?”

“To be anywhere without you.”

“But I’m here.” You reason.

He shakes his head, insisting something else. “But not you’re here with me… You know?”

You do know. 

“S-sure,” you agree even though a part of you feels hesitant. Not that you don’t want too.. More like you’re nervous and afraid of what it’ll lead to. More feelings? More sex? You don’t think you can go another round. “Where should we—”

“___ baby!” 

Your head turns to your name being called by a familiar voice. 

From the corner of your eyes, you see Taehyung and Yuna exchange disappointed looks. Just as you’re about to ask what’s going on, Seokjin and Eunwoo approach you. 

“Eunwoo,” you greet warmly. You step away from Jungkook and hug him. 

“You haven’t been answering my texts… Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” he whines like a child. You laugh lightly and tiptoe to ruffle his hair. Though it’s only been a few months, he hasn’t changed. He still acts like a lost puppy. “Jungkook, what’s up?”

Jungkook dabs Eunwoo up with low effort. You give him a confused look, wondering why he was acting all sulky all of the sudden. From what you recall, these two are friends. As Eunwoo greets Yuna and Taehyung, Seokjin greets you rather drunkenly. Then, he excuses himself to piss. Everyone rolls their eyes at his behaviour but let him do what he needs to.

“Can we talk?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. His question breaks the ice, but wins a wide-eyes from you all.

You tilt your head. “What about?”

“Us.”

Instantly, Jungkook feels like he’s being punched in the face. No, he wishes he was being punched in the face. Being punched in the face would be more enjoyable than standing here in between you and Eunwoo.

He has only tried a handful of times to ask and understand what happened between you and Eunwoo, but he never pressed it. Right now, he wishes he had. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t feel so threatened right now. But he didn’t and he does. Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying his best to mask his feelings. 

Was there still something between you and Eunwoo? Were you still texting him? Is Eunwoo who you’re with when you’re not with him?

All these thoughts and self-doubt flood Jungkook’s mind. 

It sinks and his insecurities make a home as you nod politely and follow Eunwoo away from the crowd. Away from him.

Not even a goodbye?

As you slip away, Jungkook sighs. How did you do that? He feels disappointed and hurt—offended even. How dare you pick someone else over him? Though no feelings between you two were expressed or exchanged in a way where commitment and exclusivity would be the trade-off—still, this wasn’t fair.

How could you walk away? Like it was easy? Like you weren’t just with him seconds ago?

It aches.

It hurts so bad that it even his anger is weak. 

No matter how much he wants to—he can’t blame you. 

He never asked you out.

“I like the way you look at her,” Yuna comforts Jungkook by patting his back. 

“Huh?” Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts. “What do you mean? Look at who?”

Yuna nudges him and gives him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me,’ look. Then, she explains herself. “I always knew you were nice. Taehyung talks about the shit you put up with and the things you do to please people… Like how you joined the team again after they begged you to even though you felt burnt out… How you always limit your drinking so you’re sober enough to walk ___ home. How you come over and take care of her when she’s piss drunk and probably gave you a hard time—”

Jungkook’s eyes get shifty. “How do you know about that—”

“Doesn’t matter. She didn’t tell me shit, though. She doesn’t know I know and we’re going to keep it that way.” Yuna pokes Jungkook’s chest. 

He furrows his brows. “Why does everything have to be a secret when it comes to ___?”

Yuna doesn’t have an answer for him. Instead, she continues her little speech.

“You’re a nice guy… But to ___, you’re kind. It’s in your gaze. It’s in the way you always offer yourself to her. It’s in the way you’re her friend above all else—I’m so thankful you’re who you are when you’re with her. You look at her like she’s your entire world… I don’t know if you even know that—but that’s how you look at her. You look at her and it’s… It’s like she’s the only person in the world.”

Jungkook hates the words Yuna speaks. Partly because they’re all true and partly because he doesn’t know what to do after. Yuna squeezes his shoulders and he feels like he could cry. 

“Can you tell her I’ll be in my room? Waiting for her?” Jungkook pleas.

Yuna nods and excuses herself to find you in the crowd. You’re throwing your head back, laughing at whatever Eunwoo whispered in your ear. When Yuna approaches you and passes the message, you find Jungkook’s eyes from across the room. 

You smile at him and wave. 

He stands still, not knowing what to do. Before you know it, you watch him pick up his feet and head back upstairs. He doesn’t look back.

Yuna did tell you he’d be in his room… So that’s probably where he’s headed. In your mind, you make a mental note to go upstairs and figure things out with Jungkook in ten minutes. 

You’ll give Eunwoo ten more minutes... The rest of the night can be for Jungkook. 

Upstairs, Jungkook sits on the edge of his messy bed. Knees to his chest, he thinks about how fucked up everything got in a matter of moments. Did it really just take one conversation with your ex to lose you as quickly as he got you? Is this the reality of being a fuckbuddy?

He hates it. 

Jungkook clenches his fits, recalling the words Taehyung said to him. 

“Eunwoo’s tryna get back together with ___… I don’t know why it’s so important to Yuna but she said she tried to talk him out of it. Yuna said to get ___ out of here? Again, I don’t know why… I thought Eunwoo was Yuna’s favourite for ___ but I’m guessing not anymore…”

It was comforting to know that Yuna was on Jungkook’s side… But did it matter if you weren’t? You’re downstairs, talking and probably making plans to get back together with your ex.

Meanwhile, Jungkook sits in his room and waits until his eyes betray him. They flutter shut, falling asleep to the faint sound of your laugh downstairs and to the hope of you fulfilling a promise you never made.

In the morning, Jungkook wakes up and cries. He cries out of frustration and hurt. His heart feels heavy, like it could collapse and be broken. He has never felt so betrayed before.

And it’s pathetic because even then—especially then—he still waits for you.

[diamond-champagne]

5. I Need You

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

warnings: none but let me know!

feedback is always welcome, besties <3

Enjoy!!

December 2023

The UConn Women’s Basketball Team is celebrating at Ted’s on Thursday. The team is going into their Holiday break on a winning streak. Final exams are finally over. That and the overall giddiness from the holidays makes the team extra cheerful. The alcohol is flowing steadily and their table is buzzing with laughter.

Azzi is sitting at their shared table with her arm around Riley. The two are engaging in a conversation with Nika about Christmas movies when Aubrey yells “Y’all look at PB blushing like a schoolgirl”. The group immediately turns their attention to the blonde whose attention is currently being occupied by a man. He’s got a few inches on the basketball player, standing at a full 6’6. The man in question has caramel skin and Azzi can tell that he has at least half a sleeve on his right arm.

The group watches them interact. It’s obvious from his body language that he’s talking loudly so that Paige will hear him over the music playing. Whatever he says must be funny because the girl tosses her head back in laughter. It also must be complementary because she blushes harder. A smile graced her lips. Azzi can tell that she isn’t sure how to accept whatever compliments he’s dishing her.

It doesn’t matter though because he’s still talking to Paige. The mystery man is in the middle of doing said talking when he reaches for the basketball player’s waist. He pulls her closer so he can lean down to talk in her ear and she let’s him.

The two are completely unaware that they have an audience until they are about to part ways. Azzi watches them switch phones to seemingly exchange phone numbers when she catches Paige’s eyes. Her eyes widen and she blushes some more before scurrying back to the table with the rest of the group. She’s greeted with whoops, praise, and many variations of “Get it, Paige” before she sits down.

“Paige Madison, who was that?” Ice asked.

“His name is Cam. He’s on the football team.” Paige smiles.

“And what did this Cam say to have you smiling like that?” KK asks excitedly.

The blonde shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. The smile itching its way on her face betrays her. “He just called me pretty. I don’t know! He’s just nice.”

Azzi decides then that doesn’t like Cam. She doesn’t like his tattoos or that he plays football. She also thinks his name is stupid.

More importantly, Azzi doesn’t like he talked to Paige more in a 10 minute conversation that they have in weeks. She doesn’t like he pulled the older girl closer to him in a bar full of people. Azzi hates that Paige seemed to enjoy it because there was a time that she was pulling Paige closer in a bar full of people. Azzi hasn’t done that in a very long time.

That thought angers Azzi. She’s angry at herself for letting them get this messy. She’s angry at Paige for not fighting harder. She’s angry at Cam for doing all the things she couldn’t; all the things she wouldn’t.

It’s the anger that fuels her next comment.

“So it’s that easy, huh, Paige? We just have to call you pretty?”

The entire group, including Riley, looks at Azzi in shock. She doesn’t care about that, though. She cares about the look that Paige gives her. It’s a combination of shock, hurt, and embarrassment.

She just humiliated her best friend in front of everyone.

The worst part is that Paige doesn’t even argue back with her. She just looks down at her fingers and remains silent.

Azzi starts to apologize but before she can, Riley is pulling her out of the bar. The volleyball player only stops tugging her arm when they are alone, standing in a secluded section of the parking lot.

“What. The. Fuck. Was. That?” Azzi flinches unintentionally. She’s never seen the other so upset. The brown-eyed girl opens her mouth to speak but stops immediately as the other has raised her hand to communicate that she isn’t done.

“You’ve been off for fucking weeks. At first I thought I was crazy but then I saw how you reacted when Paige invited Blaire to Aubrey’s house.” Riley scoffed but then continued. “I knew you had feelings for her. I should’ve known better.”

Azzi immediately begins to apologize, “I’m so sorry-”. Riley doesn’t want to hear it. “You’re an asshole; and not just to me. What you said in there was fucking disgusting. Paige didn’t deserve that.”

The basketball player nods in agreement and understanding. She doesn’t trust herself to speak anymore. She doesn’t even know what she would say.

“I know, bu-” Riley cuts her off again. “You clearly don’t know, Azzi, because judging by the face Paige made, this isn’t the first time you’ve hurt her either.”

Azzi doesn’t know what to say, so she says nothing and watches as the volleyball player turns to leave. The basketball player turns to walk back inside Ted’s hoping that she gets the opportunity to apologize to her best friend.

That hope quickly deflates when she realizes that Paige isn’t there.

“Where did she go?” She asked desperately.

“She left.” KK answers. Azzi doesn't miss the glare that the freshman throws her way.

“Where did she go?”

“Azzi, maybe that’s not a good idea.” Caroline states carefully.

“Where did she go?” Azzi frustratedly repeats. Her patience is wearing thin. She needs to see Paige because for the first time since she’s known her, Azzi feels their friendship slipping away. Azzi knows that their friendship had changed; but she never thought that there would be a day when it was over. That can’t happen. Azzi needs Paige.

“She went home.” KK says suddenly. Her confession elicits looks from her teammates. Azzi assumes that they weren’t supposed to say anything. She doesn't care though because she’s leaving Ted’s before anyone can tell her otherwise.

-

Paige watches as Riley drags Azzi out the bar; waiting until they are completely out of sight before getting up to leave. The blonde-haired girl can feel her eyes fill with tears and quickly blinds rapidly to keep them at bay.

“Hey, I’m gonna head out.” Paige announces before getting up from her seat. There’s a chorus of protest from her teammates but all she wants to do is get home; preferably before she starts sobbing in the bar.

“Paige,” Carol starts. “Be careful.” Paige nods and leaves the bar.

She makes it all the way home and through the door before she breaks down. Paige doesn’t make it to her room; instead, she slides down her front door to sit on the floor. The blonde-haired girl sobs harder than she has in a while. Her body shakes, her nose is runny, and her head hurts. She sits there for a minute and while she is still crying, she is calm enough to get off the floor. Paige makes her way into the bathroom with tears down her face to get into the shower. She cries as she takes off her makeup and gets into the shower. She cries as she gets dressed in her pajamas. She cries as she sits on the couch, curled up in a blanket.

Paige is angry. She’s angry at herself for loving Azzi. She’s angry at Azzi for doing this to them.

She’s also tired.

Paige is tired of being angry. Paige is done.

-

The sight of Paige after she opens the door breaks Azzi’s heart. Her blue eyes are swollen and tear filled and her nose is red and runny. It strikes something deep within her to see the older girl so upset. Azzi isn’t even sure how to fix the mess she’s made.

“Can I come in?” Azzi asked softly. She watches as Paige wordlessly steps to the side to welcome her into her space. Paige shuts the door before moving into the kitchen to get a glass of water. The blonde-haired girl then grabs some Advil to ease her headache. She takes her medicine while Azzi starts the conversation.

“I’m sorry” Azzi whispers.

“For what?” Paige asks as she sits her glass on the counter. The younger girl immediately crosses the kitchen to invade the older’s space. She reaches for the blonde to pull her into a hug when Paige flinches away from her touch. Azzi’s eyes fill with tears as a result. Paige doesn’t want Azzi to touch her.

“Paige, please!” Azzi cries.

“What are you apologizing for, Az?” Paige asks. She’s not crying anymore but her voice is thick with emotion and her body drags.

“For what I said at Ted’s” The younger girl starts. “I got jealous seeing you with that guy and I got-.” she tries to explain before she gets interrupted. “You don’t get to be jealous.” Paige sneers. “Not when you have a girlfriend, not when you left me in the morning to see her, and certainly not after you left my apartment when I asked if you had feelings for me!” The blonde-haired girl spat.

“I know I messed up but I’m sorry, Paige.” Azzi pleads. Tears flow freely down her cheeks as she thinks of what she can say to fix this.

“You’re sorry for Ted’s?” The older girl questioned. Azzi shook her head in agreement.

“Fine. I forgive you. Now, leave.” Paige demanded.

“N-No” Azzi stutters out. “We need to talk about this!”

“Talk about what, Azzi?” Paige exclaimed. “Should we talk about how you don’t want me but clearly don't want anyone else to have me? or Should we talk about Riley? Or we can talk about-”

“Fuck, Paige! I said I’m fucking sorry!” Azzi exclaims while flailing her hands. In her movement, she knocks the glass off of the counter.

The glass shatters. Its contents, water and ice, leave a mess on the floor. Paige immediately drops to start picking up the broken glass. All of the energy she once had, gone. Azzi doesn’t miss a beat in helping her.

“I'm sorry.” Azzi speaks softly. Paige can only sigh as a response. She feels like she’s been here before too many times.

“Stop apologizing.” Paige grunts out. “If I apologize to this glass, it’ll still be broken. It won’t fix anything. You apologizing won’t fix anything. I’ll still love you in the end. My heart will still break in the end. So, just stop.” Her defeated tone shatters Azzi from the inside out.

“Paige-” Azzi starts before Paige cuts her off. “Just go.” the blonde says.

This time, Azzi listens.

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[spectral-phases]

A non-comprehensive guide to my cooking headcanons for the Batfam

I'll add comic panels to support myself when I feel like I'm going very much against the grain of fanon and have to defend my position a little.

Alfred: Master of the craft, learned to cook from French chefs and has been a professional chef as a cover while serving as a spy. He can make you croissants and puff pastry from scratch, but the waffle iron (every waffle iron, yes even that brand new fancy one that is supposed to be so easy to use) was designed in hell to torment him specifically. This may be because even God himself is jealous of Alfred's ability to master a recipe after only reading it once (never refers to it again while working), or watching the video once and so he was given an Achilles heal by the divine. He has a cookbook and personal recipes written down, but very rarely looks at them. He is not the best teacher, and he did not care for children or anyone else in the kitchen, but Martha Wayne was not having any of that, especially for Jewish holidays, and to date, the way he handles kids in the kitchen is his best approximation of how Martha taught Bruce how to cook, but he lacks the requisite patience because he learned how to cook from old school French chefs (Gordon Ramsey without the soft kids mode, but he's never screaming or yelling or cussing people out because he's refined).

He is allowed to cook in the kitchen by himself

The kitchen is his domain and he maintains the right to supervise as needed, with some exceptions

Select people can assist him, but he prefers to do the cooking by himself as its the only thing he adds to the family that they enjoy that isn't cutting off years of his life like medical treatment or running the comms is. He's also stupid fucking fast at it and good at cleaning as he goes, and its hard to have someone else in his very regulated and honed system without mucking it up

Bruce: Contrary to popular belief, the man can cook. Unfortunately, he can only do so if there is a written recipe to follow and it is written in the way that makes sense to his brain. Will read the recipe ahead of time for prep, but will miraculously forget that there is a 3 hour resting period if it is not at the top with the prep time and cook time. Please do not ask him to cook anything after watching a video, it does not stick. Has no sense of what spices do what, so if the recipe says we're using 2 tablespoons of ground cloves, then that's what we're doing. With a good recipe, he can make any food from around the world no matter how complex, however, even something as simple as a tuna salad, ham and cheese, or a PB&J sandwich needs a written recipe with exact amounts and instructions for him to get it done or he will mess it up in ways not even the devil himself could imagine. Look, he has an eidetic memory, but his brain just does not compute that way and he's alway second guessing himself without a written recipe. The only thing he can make from scratch without a recipe are his mother's latkes, but that is, of course, rarely made because of all the emotions, but sometimes he goes through it because he remembers how she had him make them and it feels like she's still there with him, whispering in his ear.

He and Alfred have both agreed to tell anyone who asks that he's not allowed to cook by himself in the kitchen because he will find a way to use three pots and every bowl to make hot chocolate (he will, as a matter of fact), but it's really because when he was younger, he was making a pan sauce that the recipe simply said to “reduce” and managed to burn it so badly it ruined a pan Alfred had inherited from his grandmother and Bruce cannot stomach the possibility of doing that again

He winds up cooking for real these days only if Alfred is injured, but can sit in the kitchen to help supervise (“No, Master Bruce, you'll need a much bigger pot for that”) and explain vague steps in the recipes ("Coat the back of a spoon means that...")(Alexa or other virtual assistants do not help)

He's also a bitch and a boss and a babe and he is? So tired. Most days he would probably wish for the sweet release of death over making one more decision about what to eat and how to get it on the table.

Dick: Despite what his kitchen cabinets may suggest, he makes phenomenal food. He's just putting all his emotional energy into keeping his people alive so if he's on his own then odds are he's having take-out, eating a mix of cereal/granola bars/trail-mix/cartons of protein shakes, or maybe a frozen meal prepped thing from the last time he had the wherewithal and time to do so and is thusly freezer burned to shit. If he is making food for other people? Amazing. Delicious. His repertoire is mainly dishes from Eastern Europe or Southwest Asia, but he has to know what the soul of the meal is if he's making something new. Rarely consults written recipes (unless they're online and have the whole novel of where the recipe came from and what it means and all the pictures of how it's supposed to look at various stages, and he will read that and the ingredient list only), prefers videos, but only from grandmas and grandpas or POC, not the rich white frat boys.

He cooks in any kitchen where Alfred is not and will not be present. You would be forgiven for thinking that he and Alfred could cook in the kitchen at the same time, especially since they can make the same dish with a reasonably similar flavor profile. The fact of the matter is, they both are very much type A personalities (even if Dick likes to pretend he's a type B) and if they are both present during the cooking process they will be at each other's throats constantly about their different methods, even if they are getting to the same destination in the end

Cass: Subsists mostly off of what she can find or what others feed her. She can cook a few simple dishes but they’re not mind blowing. She does make a phenomenal assistant, but she had zero working knowledge of what does what coming into the picture and has been gradually learning. Has learned how to work the waffle iron from Steph, and so is in charge of waffles for breakfast. Waffles has become her thing and everyone lets her have it. She can even make stuffed waffles these days.

Alfred is happy to leave all waffle breakfast adventures in the manor to Cass, she's very polite in the kitchen and doesn't make a huge mess, she'll even clean as she goes so it doesn't interfere with whatever else he is making

She is Alfred's favorite assistant (the rare times that he actually wants one) because she doesn't take his irritation personally because she can see how its meant to be directed at himself and will do exactly as he says

Jason: It's important you know I headcanon his paternal grandmother as Italian (so she cannot be Ma Gunn) and his step-mother as Latina going into this. He can fucking cook like no one's business. He can taste something and recreate it nearly flawlessly. However, he was taught by his nonna and mamita to measure with his heart, so he was presented with measuring cups once and broke out into hives. Only God knows how much of any one ingredient makes it into anything he makes, this includes cakes and breads. The only recipes he's interested in learning are strictly videos from the grandmas and grandpas or POC (Jason has a rule, the shittier the camera quality, the better the food will be, usually). He watched one popular white frat boy cooking video exactly once and was screaming about why they have to dirty approximately sixteen thousand little bowls to measure out each spice by themselves (and that wasn't nearly enough garlic!). He technically has recipes written down by hand from his nonna and mamita, and a few he wrote himself to try and help Alfred understand some meals, they're just hidden away in a drawer that he rarely references for cooking guidance over looking at their handwriting (The set from his family was in the box of stuff the neighbor saved for him that had his birth certificate in it, and he is forever grateful to still have that stuff. He thought for sure it was gone for good). Approximately 80% of all his meals are cooked by him or someone else, even if it's just a quick scrambled eggs and toast.

Jason and Alfred do not coexist happily in a kitchen together. However, they do coexist because Alfred asked him once why he was doing things “that way” as a child and he said his Nonna did it that way and that shut Alfred the fuck up immediately

Jason does not accept help in the kitchen from anyone unless he's making dumplings of any variety or tamales and then everyone's helping put them together

Tim: He only started learning how to cook at the age of 15, so he doesn't have a wide base of experience to draw from or pre-existing knowledge. Tim has a few staple dishes he has learned how to make. It's good, but not winning any awards. However, his hang up is he needs to know exactly how and why things work the way they work in a recipe before he can actually be trusted to cook it on his own. He likes recipes from food scientists, hobbyists or professionals, because they are more likely to explain all the things he needs to know before he can go ahead and cook something more complex. He measures everything in grams, and had to get a scale with 10ths of a gram for spices, once made coffee with lab equipment just for the science of it. Someone got him The Food Lab by J. Kenji Lopez-Alt and it was a game-changer. There is no deity out there that can explain to you the recipes he writes down himself, because their ever changing shorthand only make sense in his brain. Like Dick, Tim does not often have the wherewithal to make complex foods for himself, and so has a bunch of jars of sauces/curries/soups or vacuum sealed pre-seasoned meals ready to go in a sous vide or pot in the freezer to break out as needed. Often freezer-burned because of how little he is at his own place.

Tim is only allowed to cook in the manor's kitchen with supervision because he is likely to make disastrous experiments if left curious and unattended ("I know it's usually done this way, but…" is either going to lead to some delicious food, or an explosion. No way to know for sure unless you're there watching it happen live). What happens in his home kitchen is between him and God

He can make himself useful as an assistant if needed, but usually only for Dick because only he has the patience to put up with Tim in the kitchen

Damian: Has forced himself to learn to cook competently. Will not let himself be outdone by the others, but has learned from all of them. When he's older, he could whip up a Michelin star quality dinner with plating, but doesn't find it worth the effort unless he is trying to impress someone or prove he can. Opts for simple and nutritious meals on the rare occasion he is responsible for his own meals and has the time/desire to cook. Does he measure? Only exactly for baked goods, he will never admit it, but he has no idea how Jason can make baked goods without measuring. There are two things he knows how to make on his own as easy as breathing beyond eggs: Martha Wayne's latkes and Talia's karak chai.

Damian will only cook in the manor if it is more prudent to do so and everyone else there cannot (It's the middle of a blizzard and Bruce and Alfred are sick). Regardless, he is allowed to cook unsupervised in the manor when he's old enough for that to be reasonable.

Will help Alfred but complain the whole time, despite obviously enjoying the time spent with Alfred

Look, he's either helping someone else make something, or he's on his own. Does not care for assistants as he feels like he is constantly being judged.

Barbara: Can cook, will cook, and does cook. She uses slow-cookers and sous vide usually, because she needs something she can throw into a pot and then have to run away from for hours at a time at a moments notice without having to juggle it too. Otherwise it's a microwaved meal. Everything in her kitchen has been fit to accommodate her cooking in her wheelchair and when she's got the time and is really feeling up to it, she can cook a very amazing meal on the stove just for herself or anyone else she's having over.

Will only accept help in the kitchen from Cass or Steph because they are laid back enough to put up with

Steph: Can she cook? Yes. Does she love cooking? No. Cooking is a chore to her and it does not have the payoff she needs to engage with it more than absolutely necessary. She'll look through her pantry and declare that she doesn't have anything good because everything she has was bought when she had more ambition to cook than she currently possesses and then order door dash. The easiest way to get her to cook is to tell her that she's not allowed to. That said, she really loves to bake. She's not winning any awards for her presentation, but it tastes amazing.

Would rather clean dishes than help cook because she does not have the energy to put up with the way the others are while cooking

I haven't read much with Kate, Duke, Helena, or Harper in it, so I don't have anything for them.

[xiaq]

Steddie Time Travel Fixit: Pt. 6

Ao3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7

Steve wears the Hellfire shirt.

He wears it half tucked in to a pair of tight distressed jeans with black lace-up shitkicker boots, both of which Eddie knows Steve has never worn to school before because he would have fucking remembered.

His hair is just as stupidly teased as usual, but paired with the rest of him it looks a whole lot less preppy and a whole lot more like he should have a cigarette tucked behind his ear and a leather jacket over his shoulder.

And Eddie knows that he should be focused on whatever the hell is happening with the kids and Hopper and the fact that Steve apparently has war flashbacks involving D&D characters but all that mystery falls to the wayside when the former reigning jock king is walking around the hallways like a living breathing wet dream in a shirt Eddie created.

Eddie is but a man.

Distractible.

Fallible.

Horny.

Steve catches him staring from down the hall and gives him a lazy two finger salute, grinning with the kind of ease that comes from being attractive and knowing it.

It should be infuriating.

It is not.

“Is this a dream?” Gareth says, drawing even with Eddie. “This has to be a dream, right? No way is Steve fucking Harrington wearing a Hellfire shirt.”

“I don’t know about you,” Eddie says faintly, “but if this was my dream he wouldn’t be wearing anything at all.”

“Oh, gross.”

“Look at him,” Eddie insists. Ever since that time at Jeff’s last year when the band was all high and Eddie got a little too honest, they’ve all sort of ignored the fact that Eddie is gay. They don’t ask him about girls and he doesn’t talk to them about guys. But this is…a special circumstance. 

And it’s fine. Because Eddie is not the only person looking. Everyone is looking—some with sneers or confusion but most with envy or probably equal amounts of the lust that Eddie is currently trying to subdue. Even the straightest guy in the world has to admit that Steve is—

“Yeah,” Gareth says. “I  mean no, still gross because it’s Harrington,  but yeah I can see how—no. Never mind. I’m going to class.” Gareth pauses. “Wait. Do you think he’s going to sit with us at lunch?”

He sits with them at lunch.

Eddie more or less sleepwalks through his morning classes and leaves History before the bell so he can get to the lunchroom first and he does not save Steve a seat. He has no expectations when he enters the cafeteria. No hopes related to the company he’ll keep while consuming his soggy PB&J. He just has a jacket that ends up on the seat next to him and when Jeff tries to move it he maybe glares at him a little.

When Steve moves the jacket so he can sit down, Eddie does not glare.

“Fucking figures,” Jeff mutters.

Eddie is never going to live this down and he doesn’t even care. 

“Nice shirt, big boy,” he says, because apparently Eddie’s mouth is just saying things.

Steve stills. For a moment, Eddie is reminded of the night before–of terror and gasped breathing. But then, just as quickly, he’s grinning at Eddie like some sort of sunshine creature, like joy incarnate, plucking at the tight fabric straining across his chest.

“I dunno, I don’t think I’m particularly big, it’s not my fault you gave me such a small size.”

“Well, beggars can’t be choosers,” Eddie retorts.“Everyone who signed up at the beginning of the year got one custom made,” he gestures to the guys as proof before drumming his fingers against Steve’s shoulder. “This’s one of mine and the most exercise I get is hauling amps and running from cops.”

Steve reaches over to wrap his hand around Eddie’s bicep and it’s Eddie’s turn to go still under the heat of his palm and the weight of his attention. Steve meets his eyes for a fleeting second before they flick down to his own fingers. Steve squeezes.

“You seem plenty fit to me.”

“Amps,” Eddie repeats. It’s a little breathless. It’s fine.

“Jesus christ,” Jeff mutters.

Steve’s hand is still on his arm when nearly half the basketball team approaches, detouring to stop on their way to their standard table. 

He wouldn’t say that a hush falls over the cafeteria but there are certainly a lot of eyes suddenly on their table. And not much talking.

“What the fuck, Harrington,” one of them––Eddie doesn’t know, nor does he care to know, his name––says. “You ditched us for the freaks?” He looks genuinely baffled, which Eddie has to admit is fair. “Is this some kind of joke? Does Munson have something on you?”

Steve leans away from the table, hand moving from Eddie’s arm to the back of his chair, he hitches his opposite elbow on the back of his own chair. He kicks one foot up to brace on the table leg.  It’s the stereotypical jock position: chest wide, staking a possessive claim, except Eddie isn’t a cheerleader.

“I don’t like what you’re implying,”  Steve says.

“Dude, whatever it is,” the guy’s eyes linger on Eddie in a way that Eddie really does not like, “we can take care of it.”

Steve sighs.

It’s long and loud and purposeful.

“Listen, I feel like maybe Hagan hasn’t held up his end of our bargain, so let me make this as clear as I can and we can all be mature about it. Ah––” he interrupts himself, raising his voice a little, “No, hey. Look at me. All of you.”  His tone is calm and level and patronizing in a way that Eddie knows would be infuriating if it was directed at him.

“I need you to understand,” he says slowly, making eye contact with each of them in turn, “That I’m not joking. I’m not posturing. If you touch Eddie, if you touch anyone at this table, you’re going to have a lot more to worry about than passing your driving test or making the starting lineup. There are people in the world with real problems and if you fuck with any of my new friends, you’re going join them.”

A couple scoff. Tommy, near the back, is distinctly silent. And without their usual ringleader, no one else volunteers to step forward as the aggressor.

“What happened to you, man?” One of the guys says instead.

Steve sighs again. It feels more genuine this time. “I grew up,” he says. “I recommend it.”

And then he just…waves them off, like he’s tired.

And they leave.

The group retreats to their own table in a wake of low murmurs, and everyone lets out a collective exhale.

Except for Steve, who is leaning into Eddie’s space again.

“You were weirdly quiet through that,” Steve murmurs, pushing Eddie’s hair over his shoulder so he can whisper in his ear. It’s an entitled gesture. The heat of his breath, fanned against Eddie’s neck, sends goosebumps down his arms.

“If I’m mouthy, it tends to just piss people off,” Eddie mutters back. “And I’m trying not to cause trouble for you seeing as you seem to create plenty for yourself.”

“Do what you want,” Steve says easily. “I know how to fight.”

Eddie tells his dick to calm the fuck down.

Now is not the time.

“Besides,” Steve whispers, even quieter, lips practically against Eddie’s ear, “I think I prefer you mouthy.”

Fuck.

This is flirting, right? It has to be flirting. 

He makes frantic eye contact with Jeff and––yeah, judging by the expression on Jeff’s face Eddie is not making shit up. Steve Harrington is hitting on him. In the school cafeteria. 

“Oh hey,” Steve says abruptly, turning to pull a Tupperware container out of his stuffed full backpack. “I made cookies last night if you guys want some.”

“Cookies?” Gareth says faintly.

“Yeah, peanut butter chocolate chip. The kids I babysit wanted some so I made a double batch to share. They’re good, I promise. And I substituted applesauce for some of the sugar and oil so they’re not as unhealthy as they could be––but don’t tell the kids that.”

He peels off the lid and Eddie is hit with the second-most heavenly smell he’s ever encountered. The first may or may not be Steve Harrington himself, who is now handing him one of the cookies. Eddie takes it wordlessly, watching as Steve stands to carry the container around to everyone else.

Gareth leans across the table so only Eddie can hear him. “How confused is your boner right now?” Gareth whispers.

Eddie suppresses a slightly hysterical whine. “Oh, are we talking about this? We don’t need to talk about this.”

“I think we’re going to have to if he keeps this shit up.”

“No,” Eddie says. “No, no. I’ll be fine. I just need to…get my head straight.”

“Good luck with that.” Gareth takes a bite of his cookie, “Oh, damn, these are good.”

Eddie eats his own cookie and tries not to moan about it.

He’s fine. Everything is fine. 

••••

Steve Harrington is good at D&D.

Eddie had been worried, at first, that Steve might not take things seriously. That he’d laugh at their silly voices or make fun of the guys who wear costumes or just…make it clear that he thought they were ridiculous. Childish.

Instead, he maybe takes things too seriously––asking detailed questions about terrain and weather patterns and doing so many perception checks that Jeff is about ready to strangle him an hour in, but his overly cautious approach uncovers more than one trap Eddie had set. Steve is excellent at strategy and disconcertingly good at organizing the party when there’s something to fight. Even more disconcerting, most of his strategies appear to involve martyrdom and it’s only through Eddie fudging his combat rolls a little that Steve’s character survives the night. 

He’s not perfect, of course. Steve’s math skills are abysmal and he constantly has to be reminded what his modifiers are, which Eddie does gently and without complaint, because he’d copied down Steve’s stats the night before and he doesn’t want Steve to be embarrassed. The guys will definitely never, ever, let him live it down, but he figures he’s already lost so much credibility with them at this point a little more won’t be the end of the world.

And Steve keeps smiling at him, so.

Worth it.

When Steve’s watch alarm goes off, a minute before 7pm, he makes a hasty exit for the bathroom, bag in hand, and the other guys decide he must have some sort of medication he has to take and he didn’t want to do it in front of them. Eddie doesn’t correct them, doesn’t know how he would even try to correct the assumption because he doesn’t actually understand what Steve is doing. But it does remind him that there is a Mystery afoot and Eddie really should be trying to figure out what the hell is going on instead of just…mooning over Harrington’s pretty face.

Then again, nothing is stopping him from doing both.

The guys warm to Steve by the end of the session, patting his back and calling goodbye as they exit the doors under the external halogen lights.

The night is quiet and cool and when Steve offers to drive Eddie home, Eddie can only say yes. Eddie slides into the passenger seat, tossing his backpack into the back, and decides to take the opportunity to snoop. He opens the glove compartment and pulls out the handful of cassettes inside.

“Oh,” Steve says, “wait, that’s not––”

There’s Dio and Metallica, Iron Maiden and Motorhead, and then the artists Eddie suspected all along: Madonna, A-ha, Donna Summer, ABBA, Journey, The Eagles and—oh.

Fleetwood Mac. With Landslide on the B side. 

It’s shiny and new. No scuffs on the case.

“Shit,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“When did you even have time to get this?” Eddie asks, baffled. And maybe he shouldn’t assume, maybe he’s completely off-base, but Steve looks like he’s been caught doing something illegal so he thinks the assumption is apt. “You left our place at like 10pm last night and you’ve been in school all day.”

“I have a free period before lunch. The record store is a five minute drive from campus.”

“But…why?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says, with the soft resignation of someone lying. It sounds more like, “I can’t tell you,” which makes Eddie want to shake him.

Eddie considers Steve’s shadowed face: his downturned mouth and his stupidly long eyelashes. He looks tired.

Eddie exhales. “Well, we’re listening to it.”

Steve doesn’t argue.

He doesn’t say anything else at all until they get to the trailer and he’s hurrying around to open Eddie’s door for him and get his bag from the backseat like Eddie is some girl he’s dropping off after a date.

“Oh wait,” he says, ducking back to grab his own bag. “I have—hold on, it’s—there we go.”

He emerges with another tupperware container in his hands, this one smaller than the one he passed around at lunch.

“I thought Wayne might want some,” he says shyly, eyes on the cookies in his hands. “As a thank you. For yesterday.”

Eddie is going to scream.

“That’s really nice. I’m sure he’ll love them, and if he doesn’t I’ll eat them because apparently you’ve been possessed by Betty Crocker’s ghost. Or—actually I don’t know if she’s dead or not. Or if she was a real person. Anyway, the point is that—“

Steve is smiling at him. Softly. Like he’d be happy to listen to Eddie ramble as long as he wants.

Eddie clears his throat. “Wayne should be home if you want to give them to him.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll, uh, walk you in.”

So much screaming.

Steve does walk him in, hands over the cookies to a baffled-looking Wayne, and then touches Eddie’s hand—hardly a touch at all really, his first two fingers resting, briefly, on Eddie’s wrist, his thumb tucked just under the meat of Eddie’s palm, almost like he’s checking Eddie’s pulse.

“Goodnight,” he says.

Eddie doesn’t even know if he responds.

He’s still looking down at his wrist when Steve’s car engine starts and the headlights fan over the windows before everything goes dark and still outside.

“So,” Wayne says. “Is he…”

“What?” Eddie asks blankly.

 “...your sweetheart?”

That’s enough to break Eddie out of whatever trance he’d been in. “My–? Jesus. No. You know who you’re talking about, right?”

“I know what I’m seeing,” Wayne mutters. “Not sure I’m happy about it.”

Eddie’s stomach immediately goes sour. They’ve never actually discussed Eddie’s romantic preferences. Wayne knew. He had to know, considering the circumstances in which Wayne became Eddie’s guardian. But they’ve never said anything out loud to each other and Eddie was hoping to continue that tradition potentially for forever.

“Wait,” Wayne says, moving forward to squeeze his shoulder, “I didn’t mean––fuck, you know I’m no good at this shit. Come sit down.”

They move to the couch.

They sit.

Wayne digs the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“I don’t care who you’re sweet on or who you bring home, you hear me? As long as they treat you right and they don’t get you into trouble. But that Harrington boy… I get the feeling he’s trouble. And with his folks being who they are, I just want you to be careful. That boy has a history and I don’t know what it is, but I’d wager it isn’t pretty.”

“I don’t know what it is either,” Eddie murmurs. “He’s not––I don’t think he’s bad trouble, though. He’s trying to protect me. Us. At school. Even though it’s put a giant target on his back. He’s quit basketball and joined Hellfire and he’s. I don’t know. I like him.” It feels like a confession.

“I wonder how his Daddy feels about all that,” Wayne murmurs. “You ever seen him come to school hurt?”

Eddie considers. “I don’t know. Why?”

Wayne just looks at him.

“You think his parents––?”

“I think I know the kind of boy his father was. I can imagine the sort of man he turned into.”

Eddie feels chilled all the sudden. He gets up from the couch to close the open window above the sink. It doesn’t help. He rests his hands, fingers splayed, on the countertop. He taps his nails on the fornica.

Abuse wouldn’t explain the kids or the panic attack or why he suddenly seems obsessed with Eddie. But it would explain some things.

“I’m not going to start avoiding him,” Eddie says.

Wayne sighs. “I didn’t expect you would. Considering.”

Eddie doesn’t ask him to elaborate.

He holds up the container of cookies Wayne had abandoned on the counter, then carries them over to the couch when he nods. 

Wayne selects the largest one from the top. “Did he actually play your dragons game?”

Eddie nearly chokes on a laugh, helping himself to a cookie as well. “He did. Wasn’t half bad, either.”

Wayne takes a bite. His eyebrows go up. “Shit, did he make these?”

“He did,” Eddie says.

“Well. I suppose we can keep him around.”

Pt. 7

[estrellami-1]

Because of You

Steve’s not great at taking care of himself.

Everyone else, sure; he’ll bug them to hell and back about eating, about drinking water, about getting outside to see the sun. He’ll force vegetables down his kids’ throats if he has to.

But himself? He knows he’s not worth it. He knows he doesn’t need to take up that much space, that many resources. He gets by, eats when he needs to, drinks water if he remembers.

But he takes care of his people. And lately, his people has included one Eddie Munson.

“Hey, Eds,” he says, staring blankly at the wall as he cradles the phone to his ear.

“Hi, Steve. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Just wanted to check in, y’know? Make sure you’re doing alright.”

“Yeah, m’fine. How’re the kids?”

Steve chuckles. “The little shits are great. Driving me crazy, like always. Dustin claims he hates you because of whatever you pulled last Friday during the game.”

“Campaign, Steve.” He chuckles too. “Yeah, I was a little bit evil. It was a lot of fun. Henderson’s full of shit.”

“I know,” Steve answers. “We all do. He does. I think he gets his dramatics from you.”

Eddie gasps. Dramatically. “How dare,” he says, then immediately starts laughing when Steve does. “Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah, Eddie?”

He’s quiet now, serious. “How are you?”

Steve lets a quiet little chuckle slip out. “M’alright.”

“Just alright?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m fine, Munson, c’mon, quit worrying.”

“You’re always taking care of everyone,” Eddie says, bold like he knows Steve won’t stop him. He’s right, but still. “But who takes care of you?”

“You’re right,” Steve deflects. “I do take care of everyone. Speaking of which, have you eaten today?”

Eddie doesn’t laugh. “Have you?”

“Eddie.”

“Steve.”

“No.” Hesitant, quiet.

“Will you?”

“I don’t know.”

“For me?” Parroting Steve’s tone. Hesitant, quiet.

“For you? I- Yeah. I might… need help.”

“That’s okay. Want me to come over?”

“I don’t- no. Just… over the phone?”

Eddie hums. “I can do that. What’re you in the mood for?”

Steve huffs a humorless laugh. “Nothing.”

“Not really gonna cut it here, babe.” They both ignore the slip. “Want choices?”

Steve sighs. “Dunno. Sure.”

“Do you have the energy for anything involving more than five steps?”

“I- guess? If I have to?”

“So that’s a no,” Eddie says, mostly to himself. “PB and J?”

Steve makes a face. “What am I, Dustin?”

“You’re about as stubborn as him right now, yeah, and he gets that from you.”

“Fuck you too.”

“Maybe later. PB and J? Yes or no?”

Steve sighs again. “Fine.”

“Okay, good. Which phone are you using?”

“The one in the kitchen.”

“Okay, good, so you can narrate to me what you’re doing.”

Steve sighs. “We really don’t have to do this-”

“Y’know, I kinda think we do. Up and attem, Stevie-boy, first things first is bread.”

Steve groans, but goes and gets the bread, narrating the rest of it without prompting. “And you?” He asks after his sandwich is made. “Have you eaten?”

“Uh… no.”

“Goddamn hypocrite.”

“I forgot! It’s not an energy thing, I literally just… forgot. That I need to eat.”

“Right, because that makes perfect sense.”

He imagines Eddie rolling his eyes. “It does in my head,” Eddie argues. “I’ll eat, I swear. I’ll do it right now if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees quietly.

“Okay,” Eddie says, just as quietly. “Give me one second, I’m in my room, let me switch over to the one in the kitchen.”

“M’kay.”

A few seconds later Eddie’s back, panting slightly as he opens the fridge. “Okay. Shit, we need to go shopping. There’s not much to have in here. Uh… cheese? And tortillas? I could do a quesadilla?”

Steve snickers. “Who’re you, Mike?”

“Hey, fuck you, Harrington.”

“Maybe later,” Steve parrots.

He imagines Eddie rolling his eyes again. “Anyways. I’m just gonna think out loud while I cook, if you don’t mind, ‘cause there’s this one part of a song that I can’t quite nail down, right? I’ve got the melody and I’ve got most of the lyrics, and that’s what’s really giving me issues-”

Twenty minutes later he’s tossing the burnt quesadilla into the trash and hanging up to dial a pizza place. Steve laughs at him long after the line’s gone dead.

It keeps happening, is the thing. Steve asks if Eddie’s eaten, Eddie asks if Steve has, and they’ll eat over the phone together. One time, Steve changes the script. Says yes when Eddie asks if Steve wants him to come over. “Okay,” Eddie says. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

He arrives promptly when he said he would and proceeds to make himself at home in Steve’s kitchen, going through his fridge without a qualm. “Ooh, you’ve got rich people food, can I use it?” He holds up various vegetables as an example.

Steve snorts. “Sure.”

“M’kay. I’m gonna make stir fry, ‘cause I saw this recipe and have been dying to try it. Anything you don’t want?”

Steve shrugs. “‘M not really picky.”

Eddie cooks, and they eat, and Eddie makes Steve laugh five more times, even though he feels like shit, and Steve makes Eddie laugh too, and it feels more like an accomplishment than it should.

They keep flirting, too. They both know, and it’s not that they’re scared to say it, they just know it’s not time yet. Neither of them know when it will be time, but they both know they will know.

It confuses Steve if he thinks about it for longer than five seconds.

Then, one day, it comes to a head. Steve arrives at Eddie’s trailer, unannounced, eyes shining with something that has Eddie treading carefully. “Steve?”

“Eddie.” He swallows, looks around. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nah, you’re always welcome here. C’mon, let’s go sit on the couch, you look like you have something you want to say.”

Steve swallows again. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Eddie sits, watches as Steve does the same. “What’s up?”

“I like you,” Steve blurts out. “I know you know I do, and I know you like me, and we both know that we both like each other, but I realized it’s… it’s something else, Eds, because I- I ate. And it was hard but I did it by pretending your voice was in my ear, telling me I could do it, reminding me of the next step, and it was just a sandwich but-” he looks away, swipes at his eyes. “I did it,” he whispers. “I did it for you. Because of you. And I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing, man, why we’re dancing around each other, but I don’t want to anymore.” He shakes his head, looks directly in Eddie’s eyes. “I wanted to say it, to lay it out, and let you do what you will. Because I trust you. I feel safe with you. I believe you’ll take care of me, because you’ve already proven you will.”

Eddie swallows, eyes glassy. “I forgot to eat,” he whispers, and Steve laughs.

“That’s okay. I’ll remind you.”

“And on the days neither of us have the energy?”

“We rock-paper-scissors for who calls the pizza place.”

Eddie laughs, then. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay, Stevie.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees, and moves to lean into Eddie’s side.

They don’t kiss, not yet. They don’t need to. They both know. They get up a few minutes later, and Eddie finds something to eat, and Steve sits on the counter and teases Eddie with something akin to pure happiness shining in his eyes.

[stvharrngton]

a lesson in romantics; lesson six

summary: a multi-part series where reader is the new art teacher at hawkins high and the history teacher, mr. harrington, takes a shine to the new girl. mutual pining ensues on their road to love 🥀

a/n: i never really intended on this being a slowburn LMAO but i guess that's what it is now! also i am finding it increasingly difficult to not include 'y/n' or 'y/l/n' anywhere in this give me strength pls 😭

characters: steve harrington, robin buckley, only mentions of the reader

word count: 0.9k

warnings: none really, steve gets a little flustered, cursing

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

series taglist: @pbs-theundeadmaggot @alana4610 @onceuponaoneshot

SERIES MASTERLIST

HAWKINS HIGH, DECEMBER 1992

Steve was the cool teacher. 

The self-proclaimed chill teacher who spoke to his students like normal people, the teacher who shared everything with his kids.

But there was one subject that was secretly off limits, a silent rule within the classroom of Mr. Harrington. And that was Steve’s love life.

It was a Thursday afternoon and Steve was in the middle of his sophomore history class, the students quietly reading a chapter from the textbook when one of the girls near the back piped up with an interesting question.

“Do you like the new art teacher, Mr. H?”

Steve’s ears pricked up at the insinuating nature of the question, lowering his glasses so they perched on the bridge of his nose.

“She has a name, Olivia,” Steve replied, eyes scanning the room as other students started listening in on the conversation, “but sure I like her, she’s a good teacher.” Steve shrugged.

Steve hoped that would be the end of this truly awkward conversation, exhaling through his nose as he noticed Olivia leaning towards the girl who was sitting next to her, whispering something in her ear causing them to giggle.

“Girls,” Steve warned, never one for hard discipline but surely worried about where exactly this conversation was going if it carried on any longer.

The rumblings died down but not for long before Olivia popped up with another question for Steve.

“Do you have a crush on her, Mr. H?” Olivia asked, a totally innocent facade painted onto her face. The glass erupted into giggles and hushed conversation between the students as Steve pinched his eyebrows together with finger and thumb, groaning as he stood from his desk chair.

“That’s enough now, guys, come on,” hands on hips in his signature pose, that combined with his tone of voice had the kids simmering down in an instant, smirks still evident on their faces as they went back to reading. 

Steve sighed, dragging his palm over his face as he sat back down when it dawned on Steve. The realisation went off like a clock tower striking at midnight as all the colour drained from his face. Olivia and her gaggle of friends were the very same group of girls that were early to your class the same morning Steve brought you coffee. The same morning that Steve’s attempt at flirting with you got cut short.

The bell soon rang signalling the end of the lesson and the end of the school day. The kids soon rushed out of the classroom, waving and saying goodbye to their teacher all whilst Steve reminded them of the homework that was due on Monday. 

“Fuck,” Steve sighed, collecting his things in his arms as he made his way out, locking the door behind him. Was it really that obvious? Sure, Steve liked you, he had made peace with that now but was he so bold that even the kids had noticed how he acted a little different around you?

Barging into the teacher’s lounge as inconspicuous as he could, he made a beeline for Robin. Politely smiling at the other teachers Robin was sitting with and excusing himself for his abruptness, he placed his large palm on his best friend’s shoulder, “Can I talk to you? Like, now?”

Taking her hand in his, he pulled her out into the hallway, making sure the coast was clear before he spoke. “I’m in deep shit Robin!” Steve exclaimed, yet his tone still hushed, his hands wailing in the air.

“Wait,” Robin spoke, eyes scanning quickly across Steve’s face, trying to figure out whatever is the matter with him, “calm down, Steve, Jesus! What’s going on?”

“A group of kids in my last class started asking stupid questions,” he started, his brain almost working too fast for his mouth, “and then Olivia Johnson asked if I have a crush on–”

“Steve,” Robin sighed, cutting him off before he could finish, already knowing who he was going to say before he could say himself.

“--and now I’m just worrying, I guess, like– am I being too obvious about it? Am I doing too much? Fuck, Robin, I just don’t want this spreading round the whole school and–”

“Steve!” Robin spoke louder this time, doing her most to get Steve to stop rambling, “Just be quiet for a second, please?”

Steve sighed but nodded nonetheless, agreeing to let Robin unload her advice on him, whether he wanted it or not. 

“You like her, right? I mean, I know you do, we all know you do,” she exaggerated with her hands as she spoke, referring to their friend group, “and deep down I know you wanna ask her out so I think you should just bite the bullet and do it.” Robin ended the last sentence with a shrug, seeing the solution to all of Steve’s problems so clearly. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen, she says no and you move on.”

Robin made it sound so easy. Sure, he could suck it up and ask you out, but what if you did say no? Steve feared it wouldn’t be as easy as moving on like Robin suggested. Steve’s crush on you was becoming no laughing matter, more meaningful as the days went by. He wasn’t sure he would be able to recover from the heartache of your rejection, as dramatic as that sounded.

“Maybe,” Steve murmured, hands stuffed in his pockets, his gaze fixated on his shoes. He moved back and forth with the idea.

She rolled her eyes at him in response, shaking her head at his stubbornness, “You are so smart in so many ways, Steve,” Robin chuckled, “but you need to get out of your head sometimes.”

Maybe just this once he would take Robin’s advice.

[sinfulsalutations]

congrats on the 500 followers!

For the fic prompts, could I please request Rex and #14? 😏💙

Thanks so much and I am looking forward to reading all these!

➼ ɴᴏᴜʀ'ꜱ 500 ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ! ɪ’ᴍ ꜱᴏ ɢʟᴀᴅ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀᴛʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʀᴇx ᴏɴᴇ, ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅ, ʟᴏʟ 😍

➼ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ☆ “ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ɪ ᴡᴏɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ”

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʀᴇx x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴛʀɪᴘᴛᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɪᴍ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ 😭, ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ, ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ɢʀɪɴᴅɪɴɢ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 515

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Rex only has you for tonight.

He knows this damn well when you’re at 79’s together, watching the time with a vigilant eye. At the point it felt it was becoming too late, that he wouldn’t have the time he needed with you before he had to leave the morning tomorrow, he softly tucked his hair behind your ear and leaned in your ear.

“Let’s go home, cyare.”

Now, he has you on the bed already; you’re desperately stripping off your jacket while he unbuttons the shirt of his uniform, but your lips stay latched onto each other. There’s barely any space to breathe in the space he’s created, and the mere feeling of his bare skin against yours is heavenly once he’s got most of his clothes off.

He meets you on the bed, mouthing against your jaw,

“What do you want me to do, baby?”

You whine, hands crawling up to his back. You dig your nails into his shoulders, grounding yourself as you lift your hips to roll them against his boxers and prominent bulge. He groans softly but remains focused on getting an answer from you.

“How do you want me?”

Moving your head to press your foreheads together, a look of ravished desperation curses your features into a permanent state of helpless lust for your beautiful boyfriend.

“Make sure I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” You say in a firm voice, more steady than anticipated. Rex’s eyes widen, then he lets out a breathless chuckle. For a moment you notice a wrinkle of a smile, but it’s gone before you can surely get a proper look. 

“Yeah?” He maunders, voice becoming more desperate with the more time spent just talking. You hum, bring him down for another kiss, and moan into his mouth when you feel how hard he is for you. The soft skin of your thigh acts as his stabilizer, and he grips you tight to him. “Is that what you want, mesh’la?”

You nod again and smile softly.

“Make sure I don’t forget how good you feel,” You tell him. A laugh leaves you, washed in your breathy moan when the hand on your high decides to explore further. Rex flashes you a look of mischief, one you don’t get to see often, as he urges you to open your legs for him and let him run his hands over the fabric of your panties. You’re just able to giggle once more, running the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip. “Not like I would in the first place…”

That’s when Rex laughs with you, a flush of color over his face while he looks at you. He’s so pretty like this, you decide promptly, so exposed all for you and no other, filled with so much need it’s hard for him to simply stand above you without wishing to strip you down and fuck your brains out. It’s something that can be so intimate, so personal and doting even when wrapped in lace of filth and want. Even in this haze, he’s still yours.

tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dukeoftheblackstar @meshlaxbunny @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @star-burned @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @aconstructofamind @xflashcat @dreamie411 @padawancat97

[angry-teacher-says-fuck]

A foul-mouthed teacher's take on Gen Alpha

Can we stop saying that gen alpha is DOOMED?! They just fucking got here!

fucksake, they just hit sixth grade. We are registering the warning signs right now; the lack of respect or empathy, the inability to read , the need for instant gratification OR ELSE, and don't get me started on this Sephora bullshit. Yeah, it's looking pretty bad.

The fact is though, we are their skibidi gyatdamn parents! This is our wakeup call to do better. So here's a list of a few things that might improve the situation.

If you've got a younger child, please do not get them on an i-pad until they are at least 4. Even as an educational tool, they are no replacement for the hands-on and interpersonal learning that their developing brain needs. Talk to them, give them blocks and balls and plenty of things that they can safely place in their mouths. These things help them build a deeper understanding of the world that later social skills and academic stuff can anchor to. At pre-school a little supervised and directed exposure to educational programs can be a good supplement, but do not leave them to use screens feely. As they get into middle school, you should still be aware. There are a lot of dangers on there that tweens don't have the experience yet to recognize and it's a lot wierder than you think.

2. On that note, If you must put them in front of the TV (no shame, it has to happen from time to time in this late-stage capitalist hellscape) for the love of fuck, please pay attention to what they are watching! I cannot begin to tell you, as a teacher, what a difference this can make. Don't trust that everything on Nick jr or Disney is your friend no matter how colorful or silly it looks. Watch a couple episodes either on your own or with them to determine if it has substance or if its values are ones you are ready to expose your children to (I was shocked when I sat down to watch the original Thomas the Tank Engine).

I'll do another post on shows I recommend sometime but as a teacher, PLEASE let most of their TV time be PBS Kids. I shit you not, I can tell the difference between the kids that primarily watched Paw Patrol and the kids that watched Dinosaur Train.

For younger kids, violence is a no, for sure; their brains are still developing and no matter how smart they are, a toddler is not prepared to process whatever nuance you as an adult may have the context for. You don't want to normalize it.

The same goes for adult humor. I have had to send too many kids to the office because of a racial slur or sexist comment that they pulled straight from Southpark or Family Guy. That shit should not be happening!

3. From obscure, seemingly cutesie philosophies that turn out to be cults, to the fucking manosphere and any number of hate-groups that have perfected the art of planting-the-seed with kids, you need to keep them off social media, including Tik-tok and Youtube. There are parenting aps that can block these and limit screen time, but even they cannot be used as a "set it and forget it" solution.

4. Failing all of this, the most important thing you can do for your kids may be to actually converse with them. Sit and watch some shows with them, listen to their interests, let them talk your ear off about their favorite game. Normalize them sharing with you and do this as early as possible. The benefits are numerouse

A. It opens up the lines of communication. You can identify trouble a lot faster and support their goals a lot easier when you have this going for you.

B. It establishes early that you are a safe person to share things with. This is invaluable as they get older, and for keeping them safe at any age.

C. It gives them a chance to utilize RECALL PRACTICE. this is an often overlooked brain booster, but recalling information so they can share it with you, actively helps gear their developing brain for future learning by making it easier for them to call on and access information at will.

D. It builds confidence When you take time to listen to them, you are showing them that their input is valuable; that the things that interest them are worth sharing. There may be times when it is not appropriate, and you can guide them on that, but giving them the respect of listening when you can will help them recognize their worth when future "friends", colleagues, and partners consistently dismiss them or shame them for it.

E. It builds socio/emotional intelligence and models respectful dialogue.

5. Read to them and with them. Even if you aren't a reader, listen to audio-books. Give them a chance to practice their reading skills and comprehension. Normalize the idea that reading is enjoyable.

5. Finally, understand this: you are not being an authoritarian when you set rules and enforce them. They are going to test boundaries, not because they are bad, not because they crave a lack of restriction, but because they need to know that they are there in order to feel secure. There are as many new fads for parenting as there are diets, but whatever parenting style you choose, be firm and consistent with your core rules and principles. your kids, and the people who have to interact with them, will be better off for it.

And cut yourself a bit of slack too. Parenting is tricky, and there are new challenges we are having to learn quickly as we go. It doesn't help that our generation caught so much shit, but we cannot simultaneously be parents AND continue to be victims. Seek out support, and give it whenever you can. We have to recognize our worth and our importance to this generation and take a stand now for their well being.

You are their parent and you play a very needed, active role in their lives.

[mdhwrites]

It really does feel like the writers just kind of dont care about the world. When i first saw it, i was really interested in just how wild it was, a whole world based of hieronymous bosch? Cool.

But then they just contradict themselves, dont do anything with it or it just doesnt make sense? for example:

-In the first season the world is presented as this brutal, hostile place, where walking down the street can get you killed. Characters dont know what hugging or shaking hands is. The schools are brutal, teachers being downright vile at points. In season 2 they have a whole school dedicated to darwinian logic. But... later the teachers are suddenly nice, the world feels less hostile and they have therapists? what? in a place where you get thrown in prison for writing fanfiction?

-Some jokes are made that are 'haha get it cuz not human' but they make no sense. They have bard magic, walking guitars and bands, but when they have to look after luz, they suddenly think nightmare noises are a banger? Or how willow makes a '40s cartoon' joke, gus has a pb&j samwich, etc.

-Potion magic makes no sense. How is it a coven when you can do it WITHOUT magic. what happens when you get branded? do you just lose all magic? is it a pity coven for bad witches?

I feel on its own these things are nitpicky, but when they pile up it just feels like they were only thinking about making the place LOOK cool while having zero substance.

So you're correct that a lot of these are either nitpicks or just really lazy jokes on the part of the writers. In fact, the lazy, fish out of water jokes came back in S3 and make Amity just look like falling in love literally drained her brain out of her ears. However, that doesn't make them invalid, especially in a show with little worldbuilding. They pile up into making the whole thing feel like a construct.

Luckily, you don't have to go to nitpicks to point out that the writers didn't give a shit. Dana herself is one of the worst writers as far the worldbuilding goes. After all, she wrote Reaching Out.

She was the one who treated being a Wild Witch like choosing not to go to college.

She also co-wrote The First Day where, you know, they don't even acknowledge that multi-tracking is explicitly illegal in this society so why would an EC funded school EVER allow that?

There's SO MANY of these sorts of things peppered throughout the series that makes the ONE part of the world building we ever get, that is anything close to making this world actually unique besides implications, a straight up lie. It'd be like if Avatar made being able to multi-bend something you chose seven episodes in and suddenly slaughtered the entire point of the Avatar being special. It doesn't though because WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!?

And there's no way to call this a nitpick. It's the hard basis for one of the main cast, even though Eda's status as a criminal is ALL OVER THE PLACE in S1, especially for people giving a shit about it. It's effectively the core of the villain's plot and the society they created. Any crack in the coven system becomes a crack in your main plot... And when it was first introduced, rather than nine, their were hundred, a fact that persisted into S2 when a character VOICED BY DANA talked about joining the Cute Cat Coven. You know, a coven theoretically not affected by the draining spell.

It's even important thematically. It is the oppression that Luz is supposed to fighting against. The way that self expression and being true to you is repressed is through the coven system and the laws surrounding it. Those need to actually function for those themes to feel like they have weight or they fall apart. It's part of why TOH struggles with thematic consistency because self expression doesn't feel like a core part of it when no one gives a fuck what you do. When there is no actual pressure to conform and hide yourself. At least, not for a story like this.

It's probably the biggest reason why when I hear people exclaim that TOH has great worldbuilding I just have to look at them funny. After all, none of this is even new or actually unique *gestures at Dystopian Fiction in general and D&D wizards school of magic* and it's told like shit. And for a story like this, your fantasy epic about sticking it to the man by showing how special you are, it NEEDED to be told better. It needed to have point.

But it never did and it just makes the writers look either like they didn't care or are just incompetent, let alone when the show director themselves is shooting their core concepts in the head.

======+++++=======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Ok, after learning about Adrien getting shafted in the finale for Bug Noire to exist I thought of an alternative way that fight could go to fit both Adrien and Bug Noire in, and with some tweaks I think that it could partially work for how things go in PB au:

So my idea is that the finale fight goes pretty much like Chat Blanc. Ladynoir confront Monarch in the Agreste manor, the 2 v 1 eventually makes it to the evil lair, Adrichat sees Emilie and gets overwhelmed by his emotions.

Monarch sends an Akuma at him, this time without punting his own kid halfway across the city, but before Chat Blanc 2: Electric Boogaloo can get started, Adrien manages to rip off the Black Cat Miraculous and yeet it at Ladybug. The Akuma still gets to him, entering his jacket or phone or something, and Bug Noire unifies.

Bug Noire keeps Monarch too preoccupied to fully Akumatize Adrien, so the fight stays 1 v 1 for a bit, until Monarch is able to use Adrien fully as a hostage to get both the Black Cat and Ladybug Miraculous from Bug Noire

Gabriel makes his Wish, and it's made clear in the epilogue that the whole world has been rewritten so everyone, Marinette included, genuinely think he's the hero who finally stopped Monarch, but it ends on Adrienette feeling like something isn't quite right...

Now, to tweak this for PB, I had the idea of Marinette getting between the Akuma and Chat to prevent Chat Blanc, and her giving him the Ladybug Earrings so we get Monarch vs ...Mister Noir I guess?

Instead of using Marinette as a hostage, Monarch is the one to knock part of the ceiling onto Emilie's coffin (why the fuck did they have Maribug do that in cannon???) to distract Mister Noir.

Monarch tries to take the Miraculous while Mister Noir is keeping Emilie from being crushed, but Adrien is able to summon Gimmi before he can to wish for it to be impossible for Gabriel to ever use another Miraculous, which has the Equivalent Exchange side affects of making Adrien, Marinette, and their allies unable to any Miraculous ever again as well.

((Something which could also help Marinette realize Chloe's had character development bc she can't use any Miraculous either, so the cosmic energy of the universe or whatever felt Chloe was still her ally despite everything that happened with the both of them))

Idk if this helps or works, but it's the only ideas I've got

Fair idea!

[howsitduud]

FALSETTOS REVIEW

Holy crap Louis it's the lady from Rent.

To give context to what kind of headspace I was in when I watched this, I watched the 2016 PBS slime tutorial a skohsh tipsy seated directly between two diehard fans of it who were singing every single song right in my ears. It was genuinely one of the best times I've had watching a musical and I wouldn't trade that moment with anything in the world.

Just so I can spend the rest of the review glazing Falsettos, I am going to get my one major problem with it out of the way right now: the lesbians next door. Now, I love lesbians, especially Dr. Charlotte and Cordelia, but only having them come in Act 2 robs us of some time to get to know them much. What time they do get is good, with some great songs and moments together, like their bits in Year of the Child and Something Bad is Happening, but I don't really feel like they're as much a part of the main cast as a character like Trinna is. This is especially felt in the part of Unlikely Lovers when Marvin leans on them when Whizzer is in the hospital; I really want to feel all of the emotions that the characters are feeling, but I don't know the lesbians well enough to feel their anguish. There's other problems that I felt in the musical, like how Mendel loses some plot relevance after Act 1, but none of them are significant enough to hamper my enjoyment of the musical like this is.

Other than that one major problem, this musical is phenomenal. Most of what makes this musical so incredible is the characters and the music. Even though I have problems with how the lesbians next door were implemented, they still are great characters with a great report with each other, both of which are well acted by Tracie Thoms and Betsy Wolfe (just so I don't repeat myself, the acting across the board by the 2016 cast is incredible, Andy Randy especially). Marvin's arc throughout the show learning to love the people in his life again is well done, and I really liked how he was written, being unlikable but never to the point where you hated seeing him onstage, aside from the part where he slaps Trinna. Mendel is in a similar boat, but he gets better songs and he's just a funnier character in general.

But my favorite characters in this musical were Jason, Trinna and Whizzer. Jason, being a central focus of a lot of the plot, is great to watch, seeing him navigating his parent's issues and his own growth into maturity with his bar mitzvah is compelling to watch. Trinna is great because you can feel her bitterness and feeling of isolation throughout her songs. I'll talk about it later, but she gets by far my favorite song in the entire musical, not spoiling what. However, I like Whizzer just a tad bit more as a character. I expected his character to be more of an asshole, being the person that Marvin left Trinna for, but him forming a genuine connection with her and Jason was not something I was expecting and welcomed wholeheartedly. And the majority of Act 2 focusing on him dying of AIDS is heartbreaking to watch, especially in this production where the minimalist set made of grey cubes gets replaced by real furniture for the hospital scenes.

Finally, we need to talk about the music. I normally don't like sung-through musicals, but the songs here are insanely good. 4 Jews in a Room Bitching is a fun opening song, Marvin at the Psychiatrist, Jason's Therapy, and The Chess Game are great deep dives into each character's mentality, and I love how Trinna's Song, and incredibly moving ballad about how she views the men in her life, has March of the Falsettos sandwiched in it. Jason's Bar Mitzvah is a great climax for the musical with everyone celebrating in Whizzer's hospital bed and that song was so close to being my favorite in the entire show. But I just adore I'm Breaking Down. So well-written, so incredibly sung, just fucking incredible.

Yeah, I loved this show, could you tell? It has everything I love about the art of musical theatre, being able to tell a rich, intense story with great characters all without a single unsung line of dialogue.

9/10, if I put this any lower than @theatredragon will strap me to the wall, so thank god I loved it so much.

[churromancermasterofchurros]

“I just came from r/196” ask game

Saw another post. I think I should invite y'all to one of our longstanding traditions. Answer the questions then tag 10 (or more) people. I'll go first.

Name? Call me whatever, just dont call me late to dinner.

Pronouns and gender? he/him Guy

Sexuality? Hetero

Country? USA

Top 5 fandoms? Im into a lot of different things, but i would say im more a casual viewer in general. Some things i used to follow on reddit were gravity falls, AtLA, Pathfinder2e, stranger things, etc.

What is your Most forbidden snack? Probably erasers. Rubber makes good stim.

Would you pet a bug? Depends on the bug, but sure.

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. a weird fact about me would be that i have a slight notch in my left ear. Noone knows where it came from. Mom joked she bit my ear as a child. *shrugs*

What does the color blue taste like? The color blue im thinking of probably has a sweet vanilla taste.

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? My wife on our wedding day. I cried.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? I threw lemons at stop signs when i was a kid?

Probably not the stupidest thing, but the easiest one to think of.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? I knew someone who used the phrase "don't take the little things for granite"

Hyperfixation song? Probably Death by Melanie Martinez, but honestly the whole Portals album slaps.

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? I just yoinked my pic off the internet cuz i like dnd, but the name is dnd related too. I love necromancers, im mexican, i love churros, i like being silly. So i mooshed it all together.

Dream career as a child? Actor.

Dream career as an adult? Sugar baby. I just want to live comfortably with my family and spend time with them and doing odd hobbies..

Thoughts on cilantro? I could take it or leave it.

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? No, never. Ive definitely banned some places from me though.

What is your cursed food combination? I like cheese on my pb&js? I get weird looks for that one at least.

Trans rights? Fuck yea! Be who you are, beautiful people.

@allurasiren @schermit @dyinggoosenoises @happy-peppermint @aphr0dyke @calicostorms @wolfenchant

Sorry if yall have got hit with this already. :P

[insignificantmortalsshouldsuffer]

Divorced Beheaded Died

Divorced Beheaded Survived And tonight, New York City, we are Live!

Listen up, let me tell you a story A story that you think you've heard before We know you know our names and our fame and our faces Know all about the glories and the disgraces

I'm done 'cause all this time I've been just one word in a stupid rhyme So I picked up a pen and a microphone History's about to get overthrown

Divorced Beheaded Died Divorced Beheaded Survived But just for you tonight We're divorced, beheaded, live!

Welcome to the show, to the histo-remix Switching up the flow, as we add the prefix Everybody knows that we used to be six wives Raising up the roof, 'til we hit the ceiling Get ready for the truth that we'll be revealing Everybody knows that we used to be six wives But now we're ex-wives

New York, make some noise!

All you ever hear and read about Is our ex and the way it ended But a pair doesn't beat a royal flush You're gonna find out how we got unfriended

Tonight we're gonna do ourselves justice 'Cause we're taking you to court Every Tudor rose has its thorns And you're gonna hear 'em live in consort

Divorced Beheaded Died Divorced Beheaded Survived But just for you tonight We're divorced, beheaded, live!

Welcome to the show, to the histo-remix Switching up the flow, as we add the prefix Everybody knows that we used to be six wives Dancing through the night 'til the break of day Once we're done, we'll start again Like it's the Renaissance Everybody knows that we used to be six wives But now we're ex-wives

Remember us, from PBS?

Divorced

My name's Catherine Of Aragon Was married 24 years, I'm a paragon Of royalty, my loyalty is to the Vatican So if you try to dump me You won't try that again

Beheaded

I'm that Boleyn girl And I'm up next See, I broke England from the Church Yeah, I'm that sexy Why did I lose my head? Well, my sleeves may be green But my lipstick's red!

Died

Jane Seymour, the only one he truly loved Rude When my son was newly born, I died But I'm not what I seem Or am I? Stick around, and you'll suddenly see more

Divorced

Ich bin Anna of Cleves Ja When he saw my portrait he was like Ja! But I didn't look as good as I did in my pic Funny how we all discuss that, but never Henry's little

Prick up your ears, I'm the Katherine who lost her head

Beheaded

For my promiscuity outside of wed Lock up your husbands, lock up your sons K Howard is here, and the fun's begun

Survived

Five down, I'm the final wife I saw him to the end of his life I'm the survivor, Catherine Parr I bet you wanna know how I got this far I said, I bet you wanna know how I got this far

Do you wanna know how we got this far?

Then welcome to the show, to the histo-remix Switching up the flow as we add the prefix Everybody knows that we used to be six wives Come on, come on, come on! Turn the beat up, get this party buzzing You want a queen bee, well there's half a dozen Everybody knows that we used to be six wives But now we're ex-wives

One, two, three, four, five SIX!

Anon? I fucking hate you.

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun / Taemin ; drunk gangster baby ; PG-13

when you've been out doing gangster stuff and then you come back to the office and there is a drunk little slug flirting with you

Jonghyun’s quiet chuckles move his shoulder under Taemin’s head. “I think I’m the bad guy, technically,” he says. Taemin shrugs.

“You both are, but you’re my good guy and--god. That was so gay.” That was so fucking gay. He can’t believe he just said something that gay. Gross. Jonghyun can’t either, if the way he laughs louder and gets his arms around Taemin’s waist means anything.

Taemin is a little tipsy, maybe, but that doesn’t mean he means it any less when Jonghyun comes through the hideout door and Taemin greets him with a “Hello, my most lovely and darling babe of babes.”

And the fact that he says it with his cheek smushed against the surface of the kitchen table doesn’t mean he means it less either.

Jonghyun still snorts when he sees him, puts his hand on his head when he passes, and doesn’t say anything when he stops at the sink and starts to wash his hands. Taemin pouts. Mean. He’s full of wine and he needs attention.

“Where were you?” he asks, wiggling to his feet just so he can slump back down on Jonghyun’s back, peeping over his shoulder. From here he can see that Jonghyun is washing swirls of red from his hands down the drain and he grimaces. Ew. “Whose blood is that?” he asks. He didn’t know Jonghyun was out on a job tonight.

“Mostly someone else’s,” Jonghyun says. Taemin snorts this time. Mostly. He notices the brass knuckles sitting on the counter then and reaches for them curiously, then pouts when he realizes that they’re also covered in mostly someone else’s blood. This is mildly worrying.

“Did you tell Jinki you were out punching someone a lot?” he asks. That’s an important thing that needs to be told to Jinki. Jonghyun takes the knuckles out of his hand and rinses them in the sink as well, and then he sighs in a long suffering kind of way.

“No, I didn’t wanna get blood on my phone,” he grumbles. “Gosh, he’s gonna be so pissy about it, you know him. It’ll be my fault somehow that I got jumped because someone else here pissed someone else else off and I just happened to have the same boss.”

“Mmhmm,” Taemin hums, not really listening. He’s suddenly very interested in Jonghyun’s shoulder, which he’s just realized is sleeveless, and has very warm, very soft skin. He drops slow, sloppy kisses to it and slips his arms around Jonghyun’s waist.

“He’ll get over it,” he says. “He’ll tell you good job. You punch real good.” He mumbles all of these words into Jonghyun’s skin, trailing them up his neck and under his ear, where he latches on and starts to suck a tiny hickey. Before he gets very far Jonghyun rolls his shoulder to get him off.

“Hey. Drunky,” he says, turning in Taemin’s arms to peer into his eyes. “How much?” he asks, squinting in the darkness. Taemin pouts. Is he that bad?

“Not a lot,” he says. “Almost a bottle? But I had a pb&j too.” Food makes you less drunk. He thinks. That’s how it works. Jonghyun rolls his eyes and Taemin pouts more. “Was it my grammar?” he asks. Jonghyun always teases him about his drunky grammar. Maybe that’s how he can tell. “Well,” he says. “You punch real well.” He puts his forehead on Jonghyun’s shoulder, willing him with his brain thoughts to believe him. “You punch ‘em real well right in their bad guy noggins.”

Jonghyun’s quiet chuckles move his shoulder under Taemin’s head. “I think I’m the bad guy, technically,” he says. Taemin shrugs.

“You both are, but you’re my good guy and--god. That was so gay.” That was so fucking gay. He can’t believe he just said something that gay. Gross. Jonghyun can’t either, if the way he laughs louder and gets his arms around Taemin’s waist means anything.

“You being drunk isn’t so bad, if it makes you that soft,” he says. That Taemin grins at. At least Jonghyun likes it. Jonghyun uses his hold on Taemin to pick him up a little and turn him towards the hallway. “Come on. I gotta report to Jinki and then you can slime on me in bed.”

“Does that mean sex?” Taemin asks, watching his feet step just a little lopsided on the floorboards as Jonghyun takes him down the hall. “You can’t take advantage of me. I’m a bad guy too. I have stabby knives.” He reaches with the hand that isn’t around Jonghyun’s waist for one of the knives on his belt. Jonghyun slaps his hand away before he can get it.

“I meant you’re a drooly little slob when you’re drunky,” he says. As if to prove his point, he reaches up and thumbs away some spit at the corner of Taemin’s mouth. “And you’re gonna wiggle into bed with me even though you have your own bed and slobber all over my boob and pass out in a puddle of your own drool because you’re a fucking lightweight.”

“Oh,” Taemin says. Hmm. That sounds both better and worse than sex at the same time. “If you insist,” he says. “I would’ve blown you, but that’s fun too.” He’s not sure, but Jonghyun maybe rolls his eyes at him before he stops at Jinki’s office door and lifts his hand to knock.

Inside, he thinks Jinki goes a little easier on Jonghyun than he normally would, but he also thinks that’s because he himself is tispy and giggly and keeps pouting against Jonghyun’s cheek. He thinks maybe Jinki felt like dealing with him was enough of a nuisance for Jonghyun without getting a real scolding on top. Taemin is very proud of himself as Jonghyun tugs him to his room and lets him fumble out of his clothes and wiggle into his bed with him. He gets himself all situated to slobber all over Jonghyun’s chest before he nuzzles him and looks up.

“Are you hurt at all, by the way?” he asks. “Mostly not your blood means some of your blood.” He might be tipsy but he did catch that. Jonghyun grins and gives him his right hand, the one he didn’t have the brass knuckles on. Taemin takes it and presses a sloppy kiss to each already healing cut on his knuckles, and then to the scrapes that he notices on Jonghyun’s elbow.

“Thanks, drunky gay,” Jonghyun mumbles at him. There’s teasing in his voice but Taemin doesn’t mind. He really did mean it before when he said Jonghyun was his most lovely and darling babe of babes.