#So I basically forget about these facts and then have a well duh moment after the fact

[applejarjar]

Can't believe I just blew half the eggs I bought on tuna salad

[agaypanic]

reese wilkerson nsfw alphabet 🤭

Reese Wilkerson NSFW Alphabet

Masterlist

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A/N: been writing smut for a few months now and i think this is my first time doing the nsfw alphabet lol

C/W: (kind of explicit) talks of sex (duh) you’ve been warned

***

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

At first, he doesn’t really know what to do besides clean up any mess that’s been made. But after a few times, he gets into a routine. If it was a bit rough, he’ll put you in a warm bath to relax your muscles and tell you how good you were. If it was more soft and sensual, he’ll hold you close until you either fall asleep or decided to do something. Either way, he has a quick snack and water bottle for you.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Reese’s favorite body part on you is probably your boobs. (yall remember how he was in that cynthia episode, like come on) He likes playing with them as foreplay or during sex. Don’t be surprised if you find a couple hickeys across your chest.

Reese’s favorite body part on himself is definitely his arms. Although he looks skinny, he’s really strong. He likes the way his muscles flex when he’s hovering over you, or holding you up against a wall and pounding into you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

I feel this way with all the Wilkerson brothers, but I don’t think he’d think about not using a condom until he’s in a very committed relationship. Having lived with so many brothers with such little room, he doesn’t want to risk something he knows he’s not ready for. He’d probably consider the pull-out method at first but would forget it if you told him it doesn’t always work. 

But when you’re both okay doing it without protection, he’ll come anywhere you’ll let him. Inside, tits, stomach, face, you name it.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you got together and were just friends, he jacked off to you a few times. He felt a bit guilty about it after the fact, but that never stopped him from doing it again.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I think he may have had sex a few times before meeting you, but he could also definitely be a virgin when you first start dating him. Overall, not very experienced. But despite how he is in school (and pretty much all other aspects of life), I like to think he’s a bit of a fast learner.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Any position where he can see your face and tits. Reese is definitely a boob guy. If he can’t touch or kiss your chest, he’ll be a bit whiny and manhandle you into a better position.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Depends on the type of sex, but it’s probably an equal balance. Reese wants the both of you to feel good, but if something funny or slightly embarrassing happens, he’ll laugh it off. But if it’s like jealousy or angry sex, he’s 100% serious.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I think Reese would be well groomed down there, considering how he’s so into his appearance. Neatly trimmed, but not all the way shaved. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

There’s always some level of intimacy with Reese, but it definitely depends on the type of sex. Rough sex, it’s there in the little things like holding your hand above your head or kissing your cheek before nipping at your neck. If it’s soft sex, he can be very romantic, whispering about how good you’re doing for him and how pretty you look.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Did it a decent amount before you got together. Now that you’re dating, he doesn’t feel the need to do it as often. But if you’re away for a while, he might do it once or twice, depending on how long you’re gone.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Definitely has a praise kink. Goes both ways, but mainly receiving. He’s so used to Malcolm getting all the attention and feels like he never measures up to anyone else in the family. So he likes to know how good he’s doing when he’s with you.

Hair pulling. Mainly giving since his hair is kinda short. He usually does it when he wants you to look at him or when you’re having rough sex. But if he’s going down on you, pull. his. hair. 

Marking. Goes both ways. He gets cocky knowing that there are love bites and bruises all over your body in places only he can see. And if you give him a hickey, he flaunts that shit with pride. 

Dumbification. He’s so used to being the “dumb one” in the room, he gets a bit smug when he’s able to make you an incoherent babbling mess. Knowing he’s the only one who makes you that way (especially if you’re considered smart or a genius like Malcolm) gives his ego a big boost.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Probably your room. His house is so crowded all the time, he doesn’t wanna risk someone walking in. Sure, he could probably just beat them into secrecy. But if it’s his parents that catch you, he’s fucked.

Sometimes, when he has it (or if you have one), he’ll fuck you in the car after a date when neither of you can stay over.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, you don’t have to do much. Wearing a low-cut top? He has a boner. Putting on lipgloss? Boner. Listening to him talk, smiling and batting your lashes at him the whole time? Boner.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

No intense impact play. Yeah, he’ll slap your ass sometimes. But it’s always light and playful. And he would never hit you in the face. A major fear of his is that he’ll somehow hurt you because of how much of a brute he is.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Pretty equal, but he prefers receiving slightly more. Just because he doesn’t wanna do a bad job of getting you off. But trust me, he’s very good with his mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the scenario, but generally, he’s a bit fast while still being sensual. If it’s makeup sex or you haven’t seen each other in a long time, he’ll take more time with you. If it’s jealousy or angry sex, let’s hope you weren’t planning on walking anywhere for the next day or so.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’d prefer proper sex, but he’s definitely never opposed to a quickie. Sometimes, he just wants to take you right then and there but doesn’t have the time to fully ravish you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s down if you’re down. But only if it’s not something too intense. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can usually last 2 to 3 rounds. 4 if he’s lucky. He lasts longer than he did when you first started having sex.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I think he’d have one vibrator, and that’s it. But he’d probably make you keep it at your place since his brothers and parents kinda snoop. He only uses it on you, mainly when he feels like being a tease. If you’ve really pissed him off somehow, he’s edging you for at least an hour with it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Biggest fucking tease ever!! Sometimes, he does that little weird-ass giggle of his when you writhe around and whine too much, before talking to you in a condescending tone about how needy you are. But don’t tease him too much because then you’ll be in for a long night.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I don’t think he’s particularly loud, unless he’s feeling really subby. But overall, it’s a lot of low grunts and groans, sometimes while his face is buried in your neck or tits.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Kind of likes being tied up. You wanted to try it out once and tied his hands to your headboard before riding him. He’ll only let you do it if he doesn’t feel like being too much in control, though.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

5 and a half inches, not too girthy, but definitely knows how to use it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’s a teenage boy with a hot girlfriend, it’s really fucking high. If he wasn’t worried about consequences (although he never really is), you’d probably have sex 3 or more times a day, regardless of location. He gets that shit from Hal.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Depends on the type of sex, but usually, he’ll fall asleep a little bit after aftercare. But he always makes sure that you fall asleep first.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

Reese Wilkerson Taglist: @hollymaybank @theogirlovermattheogirl

[sugar-petals]

♡ physical affection; levi

↳ NOTE. characterizing boyfriend levi, my passion project lmao! with some sexy moments included 👀

WORDS. ⇢ 7k

tags / warnings. ⚠️ smut, fluff, soft sub!levi x female reader, hurt/comfort hc, angst, shower sex, blowjobs + handjobs + boobjobs (yep. spoiling the captain), face-sitting, protected sex, soap kink, season 3-4 setting, no manga spoilers

Ready for a surprise? It’s not really about what kind of skinship he’s extremely selective about and what not. This is only something people would perceive about him at first glance. Instead, it comes down to how emotionally sheltered he feels. Because of his experiences, that predicates everything else. Which is why Levi’s sexuality is as complex as it is.

But also, in its sudden perfect expression once a person gives him a different perspective: That’s the time when he is touchier. The more in private, the better. The lights down low, with only a candle or two shining from another room. Broad daylight brings the harsh truths and the shaking ground. Nighttime is when Levi feels more intimate and open to caress, down his back and arms, the shoulders, the side of his neck. Done with extreme gentleness, and all of your deep respect.

If you offer him an environment of trust, Levi is open to almost anything and would even magically doze off in your arms for a little while. Breathing softly, resting for the first time in weeks, the brows becoming less tense the deeper he sleeps. You asking if you can stroke his hair (carefully, not messing it up or anything) is something he can’t say no to. The closet romantic in him will fulfill you any reasonable wish as soon as you’d ask anyway.

We know how receptive the captain is to a request, and how much there can be a soft spot for somebody in his heart. If you’re forward enough to just ask, Levi sets himself that goal and opens up. He is diligent with it just as you’d expect. That especially includes the things he says are „absolute horseshit nonsense“ and „disgusting, useless activities“ when reacting to newly formed couples kissing in the survey corps at the other end of the room. Is he a hypocrite and a hater? Actually— not at all.

Levi is a raised rather than born skeptic. Between courage and care, he is always gonna be torn. Both didn’t work in his favor at some point. But at the end of the day, he fears recklessness more than being cautious. Looking at these couples, he knows that they could lose each other the very next day. Or hell, the next hour. Not everybody has 200 titan kills. 

Not everybody is a physically indestructible Ackerman destined and designed to escape death and outlive others whether they want it or not. And showing themselves this vulnerable out in the open is even more dangerous considering all the political intrigues, chaos, attacks, and espionage going on.

When he’s scoffing at skinship in the survey corps, it’s not his intent to ruin the couples and their little happiness in the present moment (nothing he sees as more tragically precious), or say only he can have a relationship because he’s strong enough to make it survive. If anything, Levi is the prime example of how all his connections were doomed exactly because of his status pulling in all the danger. He very well and painfully knows.

What I mean is: He sees the brutality of consequences that can create more misery than if two people would just go about their business. Levi already dreads that the same might happen to him. But after all, the behavior of others is easier to rectify than his own undeniable feelings for you. Which he cannot control in any way, which is why he reacts to others instead. Looking at other people holding hands, he’s also afraid how dabbling in love is a distraction from threats that can even backfire on uninvolved others if someone is suddenly in harm’s way.

Levi does associate physical touch with something that takes an otherwise observing mind off when it shouldn’t be. To him, it creates something so valuable that can become an unintended burden through all kinds of circumstances, he’s seen it all, it’s terrible he had to. And the reason why he has such a torn relationship with it. You really have to know your stuff to build a resilient little bubble where Levi is not constantly hypervigilant and either past- or future-focused.

Which is pretty damn hardwired into him. It’s almost impossible to bring on that kind of atmosphere spontaneously. It has to be ritualized. His intelligence comes with the downside of overthinking and having problems with spontaneous romance, it’s good to direct his thought into something that’s always done in a specific, structured way. You sit down with tea, put the candles on, Levi finishes cleaning his weapons, makes everything combat-ready and usable in seconds, and you carefully lay down on his impeccably made bed together.

Which he never uses, Levi sleeps in chairs. Or on the ground, so he can feel any titan steps in the distance with his whole body, using the cleanest possible mat or towel as a mattress and nothing else. The bed he basically just makes to have it neat, and for you, and to have a spot to lay together. 

But yeah. He will never remove his harness. Not even when you’re sleeping with each other. He’s not once gonna risk having to put it on in a hurry. The only time you will be skin to skin with him is for not even five minutes under the shower. It’s when his cleanliness beats his anxiety around being always ready, which is why that’s a time to fully cherish.

And then, he really has no qualms about you wrapping your hands around his soap-covered torso in the shower anyway. It’s the only time his inner default germaphobe is not vehemently screaming inside his already heavy heart. It doesn’t have anything to do with you, this is about his demons only, confronted with the immense relief you give him. If the latter wins over his mind’s struggle, Levi might draw out the shower time sometimes.

The other voice that tells him ‚don’t make it end so soon’ is now finally convincing him. He will dial down the water stream so he can hear what’s going on outside better to compensate, to know if there’s any ruckus or approaching hazards. Levi has instructed a fast runner among the cadets to bang on the front door under any critical circumstances immediately in the first place.

Levi says he wants to save water, too. He won’t admit it, but he also turns the showerhead to a medium pressure to hear your calm, almost-quiet moans — the barracks have terribly thin walls — better when you’re sucking him off. Slowly, smoothly, not too much spit. Folded towel under your knees because Levi insists, and he is right. The showers in the survey corps have uncomfortable floor tiles. 

He makes sure you won’t get soap in your mouth as well, I don’t have to tell you that he is very circumspect. Levi isn’t usually feeling overly heated in moments like this, but he gets hard and releases fast. You swear his cum tastes like afternoon tea with milk but you won’t tell him that. And who doesn’t like tea and Levi’s homemade milk, no complaints alright.

What’s still a shame is that Levi, always being in such a constant hurry and alertness, puts too much stress on his body for him to become horny all the way. In fact, he often forgets it. He feels numb, and can’t fully take in the sensations. Levi has not been able to feel a lot of genuine pleasure in his life. 

A racing mind is an absolute sex killer, and his adrenaline spikes are so high in combat that most normal things don’t do anything for him. Which is why he brews his tea extra strong. But seriously: It’s a concerning thing. And it tells you to take your time. With his whole body, doing the things he loves the most. And what else could that be? It’s straightforward: Keepin’ it clean.

You make sure that Levi feels extra comfortable by thoroughly massaging his loins and thighs with a sponge during foreplay. Yes, you’re gently working him up. All in circles and light brushing motions. Lots of soap. Suave and bubbly, like silk on his skin. It’s handmade, with oat milk, lavender, and honey. For your honey. You regularly gift a new one to him to try out scents and have supply. You can guess how much Levi appreciates it, to the moon and back in fact. The present box is neatly stored on his office table where he can always see it.

Sending out its balmy fragrance throughout the day, making the room smell amazingly aromatic to him. His nose will never grow tired or accustomed to it. Levi puts the soapbox in a drawer within literal split seconds when someone who isn’t you enters the room. „Tsk, announce yourself when you knock…“ That could even be the newest recruit who doesn’t know anything at all about the place and people. But this is just a you and him thing.

Levi doesn’t want nosy questions from the squad even though nobody would probably even notice the soap laying there in its case, much less ask him about it or the fresh scent in the air because duh, it’s Levi’s office. But it feels absolutely personal for him — so he reacts sensitively about it. This man would probably protect your lavender soap with his blades if he had to. 

The captain is very secretive about your relationship in general. Who on earth would go as far as buy him a new scented bar of joy bi-weekly? At this point, he would crawl on hot coals, needles, lava, ice shards, desert sand, and a mile-long straight of legos (laid out by a maniacally laughing Zeke personally) for you.

Although you wouldn’t allow any of it. Nothing should ever hurt those kitty paws, I mean captain hands and captain feet. You’d put Zeke on blast on your own, luring him with a banana to confuse his senses and then, whack, homerun the monkey into the ocean with Levi’s bristle broom. Problem solved. Anyway.

 Levi wouldn’t hurt himself willingly that way either, the ice shards don’t stand a chance. He has sworn to protect his own life out of self-respect, to honor those passed by living on bravely toward the goal they worked for and being the one always coming home to you. You can rely on him.

So enough about gleaming hot coals and Zeke’s evil legos, back to the point — you already get what I mean. Levi might seem totally grumpy on the outside, but for sure is a devoted man, a caliber as always. He takes all of your presents to heart and is unbelieving as to why he’d be deserving of so much. You prove a point using the gifts as regularly as possible on his body. Where he can feel every bit of your fondness of him. And remember it with muscle memory. Oh shit, this soap does smell so good. As anything on him, who are we kidding.

Dousing Levi with all your attention is the best thing ever. He feels great relaxing with you, and his face softens up. He’s looking at you with a tiny smile in response to you whispering sweet things to him, all while you’re using the sponge on his legs, the chest, and ever-tense back that can definitely use some alleviation. „Thank you for cleaning me“ has got to be the best thing ever to hear from Levi Ackerman. It means the entire world to him. Captain, your mommy kink is showing. His arousal increasing is a natural side effect in no time.

Recently, you’ve been slipping his cock between your breasts as well, and it’s been slowing him down a lot after an eventful mission. While at the same time making him more in the moment, he really enjoys you gradually lathering him up like that. The feeling of skin on skin is amazing. It might be something that… often crosses his mind when he trains during the day, but he can blend it out for the important things. Until you do it all over again, and he ruminates about how much you turn him on until the sun rises.

You also never do a blowjob hands-free. Why would you, anyway? His body is amazingly buff and compact, you want to hold onto those gorgeous lil’ hips and his own hands that need a fair share of holding after carrying the world. You feel him twitching on your tongue when you run either hand over his ass and abs, making sure to trace across all his most erogenous spots there. What’s more: Levi feels really protected and soothed when he feels your palms on him under the streaming water, he can’t explain it.

That's why you like doing shower handjobs just as much. I don’t have to tell you that Levi really delights in them as well and his poker face regularly cracks a bit. His eyes fixate on you, you can tell the connection and involvement. He thinks your fingertips are heavenly, a welcome change to his rugged days. 

He loves how softly they tease and stimulate him with the smallest movements and subtle presses. Yes, Levi doesn’t like rough action, those are vulnerable moments. He has enough brutality elsewhere, violently jerking him off and insulting him would be entirely inappropriate and even scare him.

He’d probably brush your wrists off right away, it’d be so uncomfortable in the silence of the evening. A tender chain of kisses on the nose tip, chin, collar bone, and especially forehead gets him going a lot more. The more chaste and doting the kiss, the more he melts on the inside. 

His anxiety baseline goes down, and he feels like he can let you in. However you guide him and however you choose to indulge him with your lips, Levi is on board, quietly enjoying. Since it’s something that he’s still feeling so new to, leaving you the active role comes naturally.

Stroking him with a deep pace, carefully brushing your lips against his to give him goosebumps — Levi definitely grows into that. In those moments, he really feels taken care of, in safe hands, hands that will stay with him. He’s gonna be surprised just how good something like this feels many times. And be overwhelmed by pleasure to the point where it almost frightens him, he didn’t have that a lot until now.

The satisfaction of a spotless table simply does not compare. Just so you know: He will either be dead silent or mumble under his breath nonstop. That he is okay with you touching him below the belt and even take him in your mouth tells you how much Levi trusts you, how much he knows you love him, and how meticulously he’s already scrubbed and shaved himself beforehand. Yes, the sheer preparation. He puts a lot of work into his body. He couldn’t stand you becoming dirty.

That’s also why the shower is the place oral goes down. And even there, he uses like ten cleaning products to double rinse the stall and himself before and after. Mind you. He sees you eating healthy, brushing your teeth well. Your lips are very beautiful and a masterpiece of nature to him. So it’s not you who he thinks is dirty. Levi is pretty damn paranoid about his own skin and hygiene. If only he would think about himself the way he thinks of your body.

He feels like he has to earn it, be acceptable, and prepare himself endlessly to enjoy touch. Even then, he thinks he must be ugly and revolting. You have to respect him fussing about it rather than forcing him to cut down on his routines. You don’t criticize his perfectionism and see the motivation behind it. So instead, you reassure Levi your own way.

The more he sees you having fun and enjoying his body, the more accepted, confident, and clean he feels. Most people would like to see their partner play up the enthusiasm obviously (unless you have a ‚hiding his amazement’ emo boy kink, which is exactly why you like Levi don’t cha), but it’s particularly meaningful to Levi. Guess why he looks up to Armin’s mentality, and Hange is one of the few people who truly vibe with Levi.

She’s easily amused, dedicated, swooning, excited, and constantly eager. Levi does appreciate a bit of zeal in someone. If you’re a little ardent about touching him, it’ll give his esteem a boost he’s long needed, oh god. Nobody has the guts to praise this guy like that, even if he’s so extremely good-looking. Don’t let him off the hook there. Give him feedback, you’ll be surprised how much it resonates.

It’s already apparent to yourself how keen you are being touchy with him, hell, you’re so in love. Still, it’s a good idea to give him an idea how stoked you are. He doesn’t like it fast and brutally raw without a second thought, but passionate is a whole other debate. A simple „Levi, stay like this, let me do it“ or „Levi, you smell so good“ works wonders. Say what you think and his ease will set in. And I don’t have to tell you that you won’t look like sex is a chore anyway. With Levi, that’s an honor and a pleasure.

That he puts his faith in you and gives you his time is already a massive deal and goes against everything we know of him, what he’s used to, and how his avoidant personality works, being so ridden with losses. And it’s all because of how much you desire and approach him. That’s what it comes down to. 

Even if he’d suffer decades from yearning, he’d not go out of his way to kickstart something, never ever. He’d feel like he’d cause you so much trouble. You wanting him so badly and treating his body like a treasure on the other hand changes his mind.

It proves him wrong all the way. There is still time to enjoy love, the chance is now. Anything else would plague Levi with solitude and self-pity all over again. And the feeling of missing you around in his rooms. Two teacups on the table until he grows old and grey are his ideal of a good life, after all. He will open himself to your emotional and physical presence, realizing how touch-starved he is, and how much it improves his life to have someone to kiss and lay down next to at night.

The even breath at the back of his neck gives him a sense of finally someone sticking around with him side by side, even if he’s gone during the day. It feels good and right to be wanted by you, and nuzzling his face into your cotton dress. Your commitment gives him the little smiles and the silver lining he’s been searching for. He can’t label that feeling, but it’s joy of life and humankind, more than just a willingness for it. He would stay forever pained and bitter if he wouldn’t invite it in now, and you won’t waste that chance with being silent.

You’re attracted to everything about him, tell him, make him aware. The voice, the hair, the mannerisms, his height, his abilities, his mind, his care for others, the posture, how soft his cheeks are, the list is endless. Levi won’t miss how much he’s your type at some point. Which gives him a lot of ease, comfort. You show him that his inferiority complex was an entire smokescreen in his mind. 

He fucking deserves to be called handsome. And by the way — you can lust over him as much as you want when he’s made that time window for your couple stuff. It’s good if you make it as obvious as possible for him. Which is hard to hide anyway. You’ve been masturbating over Levi just sitting there sternly writing something. And he’s like why, and you’re like, it’s you! Look at you!

Levi does want you to touch his skin all over but it’s always sore. And he remains insecure on many days. So he only has particular comfortable spots in the first place. Since hardly anybody dares to touch him, and even if he pats someone’s shoulder nobody would ever be courageous enough to reciprocate, you would feel a bit like a lab scientist. Silently theorizing over him at first even if you really don’t have to. Other people say they’d rather run towards a titan than expose themselves to Levi’s moods, swords, and barking tone after trying to caress him in any way.

News flash, Levi has had such terrible moods since forever because there’s no affection coming to him from anywhere just because people decided he might not need it. And no, he won’t yell at you for touching. He finds it very sweet of you instead. Touching Levi always creates an occasion that will float around in his head for the entire day, that’s guaranteed. He sees how someone goes out of their way and cares for his well-being. He might not like it like standing in the middle of the whole corps, but anywhere else is fair game, at home anyway.

The pressure of dealing with threats he can manage to a degree, and he has lord how many coping strategies. The lack of love he cannot. Big difference that everybody seems to confuse. On top of how he has to be unrelenting in his position because battlefield and the Yeagers being a pain. Most people — except maybe Armin — see that as a closedness to touching altogether. 

The whole world seemingly can't intuit Levi’s craving of gentleness behind the arguably pretty convincing armor, but still. It seems like only a few souls ever think about the Levi that sits down on his bed in the evening completely depleted. You have to make it clear to yourself and him that it’s obviously a one-dimensional way of looking at Levi Ackerman and not good for him.

Which has covertly shaped how he interacts with others in return like a vicious spiral, which is why he blames solely himself for his depravation. And, how severe and untouchable the circumstances made his character. Yes, Levi despises himself for being inaccessible and unable to change it on top, added to how it happened to him over the years. 

Which he had pretty much zero influence on being basically at the gunpoint of life. It’s what you hate seeing the most and comfort him about with brewing tea. It definitely comes back tenfold, Levi won’t take it for granted when you brush out his hair and speak soothingly to him in the evening. „I don’t care, those are all reasons why you’re the apple of my eye“ seems to be what makes Levi’s heart a little mushy in particular.

He is very preoccupied with blame at the start of your relationship. Levi is torn apart by daily guilt and a constantly looming perception of failure to show an opening to his heart. He also crumbles under how the majority of people don’t take him seriously, overreact, or fear he snaps back into soldier mode — he doesn’t — when he does show affection. 

That you gaze behind his reputation and touch him without prejudice is the most important thing to him. You can ignore his mad and gloomy expression, Paradis has carved it into his face for half an eternity (the other half is for you and him when this is over). It doesn’t mean he’s angry on the inside about you. The causes for his madness are way elsewhere, knowing his early story it goes without saying. What made Levi callous and broken-hearted are things very opposite to you.

Those who only see and enjoy his fighting personality probably want him as their poster boy, people who are reflected enough to bother with the idea of a private, cuddling Levi are the only truly caring ones. Because private Levi needs that physical and emotional connection the most. Patting his cadets on their heads is only a little, albeit meaningful moment. The teacup is still half-empty regardless if you wanna think of it in those terms.

Because he can only do so much in terms of initiative — which already shocks people to the point of paralysis, which ruins the moment since he assumes it’s not appreciated then — and it’s only one-sided. Giving isn’t fully making him happy even if it’s his only option given how most people perceive him. 

The teacup only fills to the brim if Levi can let go for like half an hour getting some good ole kitty on your lap treatment. He silently lays there and enjoys your hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He looks genuinely peaceful that way. His hand palms gently at your thigh and knee, and rests there all tranquil while he ruminates about his day and how lucky he is to have you.

The whole ‚theorzing rather than going for it‘ thing stems from you listening to those people a bit too much at the beginning. Instead of asking Levi directly about touch, and to be fair: Not a single human being has done that yet, you try to figure him out at a distance. Which is also a good thing though. 

You learn about many Levi habits others would overlook, misinterpret, or don’t think have any meaning. The more you learn about him, the more understanding you become, the more protective you will be, the less he will avoid intimacy. Because Levi really doesn’t want to shy away, but often his body has too much memory in it to be instantly receptive. So it rather starts with the mind, then.

The irony is. Levi rejecting bonds with others as not to have them weigh heavy on his mind when fighting will only make it worse. You make a statement to him that if he fully immerses himself in what you have, he can fight better and actually be without those godforsaken regrets he’s always talking about. That’s why when you’re having sex, you make him look in your eyes and kiss their lids, and wrap your legs around him very firmly because Levi has to know he’s deeply yours. 

Hugs, the same thing. You squeeze the last curse out of him every time and tell him to hold you tight as well. You do have to tell him twice. Just because Levi is the strongest man in history, doesn’t mean he embraces very roughly. In fact, Levi is not used to this at all. Even more irony. Paradis’ ever-swearing, most badass titan killer with the physical excellence of a hundred acrobats can’t execute the simple act of putting his arms around you in a normal, casual way.

The why is the harder thing to talk about. Last time he got proper, truly loving hugs was way over 20 years ago. From Kuchel, during a time where he was too young to remember these things long-term. Let that sink in. It confuses him when he does it and even more so when others do. Kissing Historia’s hand even as a light official gesture was already completely unusual for him and a first time. 

Levi doesn’t go beyond what he sees others doing in that regard. No extra miles, just imitating. Now think of him with something as big a deal as embracing his lover for minutes. He lets his arms just hang there and you gotta make him learn how to intertwine fingers or how to press his palms on your back. You’re the one holding him tight there, while Levi’s mind and stare go blank, he’s even more speechless and perplexed after confronting his uncle back then.

I’m not kidding. You have to ask Levi to be forthcoming with those things as well, it simply does not occur to him, and he’s unsure about everything there is to it. What a loveless world this guy is in. If it already frustrates you to see him struggle, imagine how deprived he must be. One of his inner blocks is, Levi has major jealousy of guys who are what he thinks a better hugging height. It’s obviously the other way around to anybody who’d be in love with Levi. 

Of course he has the best hugging height by far. What’s not to like? He’s ideal. But in his perspective, imagine all these people above him wrapping around each other in moments of enthusiasm, shoulder-level on shoulder-level, or only with slight differences. And when it comes to him, it feels awkward because they feel strange bending down only for him and Armin.

And that’s probably the issue. Because it’s much better not to bend and try and intertwine, but just have Levi bury his face into your winter coat without a hassle. You don’t have to be perfectly chest to chest to make it work. Besides… romantic hugs are always a bit different. And, you invite Levi to do exactly that with you. Since Levi’s pet peeve is politeness, you’ll also have to show him the difference between mere courtesy and love, he hasn’t fully learned it either. 

But just so you know. Levi is not a naive baby or raging bull in a china shop once he has given his love to someone. He observes well, adapts well. When it’s heartfelt, when it’s the right moment, it comes out almost by surprise, he’s feeling it and he will respond to you. With serenity and intent.

If there’s someone who can be unpretentious with physicality, that’s him. He just has to transfer that to romantic gestures and Levi will be the perfect lover after some time. He’ll end up like, „Eh, so what. We do this hugging thing!“ — Hilarious. Levi, knowing his battle tactics, does have a sort of innate courage to approach bodies: This time, it’s about someone he wants to give pleasure and gratitude to, though. Which will feel very different. 

And you’re a lady he’s all whipped for, that changes everything. He might sort of try to lean at the wall next to you, to murmur about you kissing him after eating cake so he’s full of crumbs „and now I have to dust it all off again, hmph“, but he is not prepared for another kiss and you tickling him pinned against the wall (he’s not ticklish, but you still love it, and Levi has a thing for you being all over him despite his stoic face).

So yeah, Levi will be super grumpy and do the „Oi oi!“ thing, but also turn around so you won’t see the blush. Man, is he embarrassed. He will try to waddle away awkwardly to do paperwork, but no chance if you tug him back by the sleeve, dust off his shirt from crumbs, and squeeze his cheeks into a perfect Levi snoot. I’m telling you, he has a nice pouty face. 

He might assume that you’re out of your mind because nobody has done that with him yet, but once you tell him that you just wanna look at him because every day might be the last, he sees the point of your antics. Merely saying you kiss him just because won’t make sense to the captain, it’s gotta have a purpose for the future.  

So, you will tell him to always remember what your soothing lips do on him before he draws the blade tomorrow, and that he has plenty of filthy crumbs to come home to. „I think that’s right by what we’ve seen today“ is what he’ll admit, and carries you off to the bed to get grinding because all that stuff made him kinda turned on. Or rather, you grind, Levi on the other hand gets flustered. He complains about you being a tease at length since he’s having a huge she-pinned-me-to-the-wall boner. 

You sit on his face to take it even further and as his favorite treat, end of discussion, your goddess is here mister. Geez, you’ll make him a hot mess. That dick won’t go soft anytime soon. You’ll talk to him about when his face is already ruined with cake crumbs, he has nothing to lose, gotta clean up anyway. The grumbling noise from below tells you that the argument is a good one. For good measure, you palm at his trousers to see his legs react and his voice suddenly hitch. Ah, it’s a wonderful day.

Levi knows a thing or two about holding his breath correctly, but what he likes the most is that he feels perfectly sandwiched between thigh Rose and thigh Maria. Yeah, he does consider them his personal comfort walls and hopes they’ll always be there. Congruently, Levi wraps his arms around them, in fact it’s locking rather than wrapping, and you’re like I see wow he’s serious. 

On goes his tongue lapping away between your labia pretty much incessantly. The arousal is so intense, you have to breathe in yourself. Oh shit, Levi is gonna try to finish you off, shots fired. Not fast, but insisting. He does not bother with you panting pretty damn hard whatsoever. He’s calling people like that, but Levi might be the real brat all along.

Fair enough, he currently doesn’t hear anything, which he also loves the idea of. All day, people everywhere are talking nonsense, and now he gets to enjoy perfect silence. His ears are small, they’re easy to cover with thighs. He just goes on and on and gets you past lord how many brinks with a heated buildup. 

There are a lot of evil things Mister Zeke has said and committed, but by far the most offending thing he has yet insinuated is that Levi is not popular with the ladies. Blasphemy, treason, outrage, éclat, trickery, criminal offense, international slander, the most grueling case of fake news since the horse left the building, and no, Jean is not meant. With those oral skills, any lady interested in him would get a permanently bleeding nose and something else permanently wet as you can personally attest to.

If Paradis would even remotely know what he can do in bed (and they would if Connie told them, he lives next door), even more people would run down his house than they already do to get a piece of him. Jesus Christ, the Ackerstamina. But I mean. People are probably suspecting it. 

How can you not move like a god in bed if you can bend yourself into any Pythagorean shape mid-air. Him being a fighter also gives him experience with managing energy when you have sex, I’m not kidding. Levi can even handle you thrusting right back on his tongue, and even your jokes about how he’s getting the cream to his tea now.

Levi is already kind of dripping in juice. His fingers are sweaty, this time it’s something on his face and hands he prefers though. He won’t wipe it off just yet. So you take on the task to put a condom on him — kind of expensive, mysteriously imported, gotta make every one count my friend — and have Levi take you from behind to soil the bedsheets completely at this point. 

Levi lets all the leaking happen, of course he notices, and yet he’s too focused on you gripping his cock hard all the way. So much for walls. Levi has to surrender to the thought of you squeezing him in any way you fancy at this point. That doesn’t just include the face, that much he learned. His cock is gonna fall off, you tighten up so much and make him squirm, Levi’s all blissed out.

He can’t handle your ass either. He just stares like the Founding Titan invented a brand new method to hypnotize the Ackermans or something. Although. Why’d you need to come up with something, though? People they love completely enthrall them already. 

If we know something by now, it's that every Ackerman gets completely fucked in the head out of the blue and sent to another dimension when they’re with the love of their life, no hypnotizing device needed. Levi is clasping his teeth for his dear life back there. People asking him if he’s gone mad he’d answer ‚maybe‘, but if you asked him if this made him lose it he would admit it.

Since he doesn’t know what to do with his hands again, you ask him to place them at your waist. „Properly, now slide in, Levi.“ — He takes his time for the first few thrusts, grunts, but gets the hang of it, in fact he’s a pro in the making. All that vertical maneuvering can turn into horizontal maneuvering very quickly. Levi feels so strange and so good at the same time, it’s overwhelming. How can something he thought would be so dirty be this amazing? 

And since this position allows him to penetrate you even deeper, Levi gets the full experience of being inside of you times two. The wet noise already turns him on, his body feels so warmed up, and he feels really shocked he’s doing this. Although his face won’t show, it’ll be concentrated as before. On the inside, Levi is losing it.

He can’t get enough of your body and how you tell him what to do, Levi will be driving it home in no time. You’re gonna have your jaw dropped by how lusty he can get yourself, but also love how he’s really breaking a sweat just because of your hard grip. Who would have thought. 14-meter class titans got nothing on you. Levi’s entire neck and chest is glazed over. You call him out on it, all you’re gonna get is a little ‚tch, that’s your fault, woman‘. I mean of course it is. He’s literally at your mercy. I told you he’s hilarious.

Little did you know that Levi will straight-up ignore his sweatiness and just continue, one heartbeat at a time, to really fill you out and make you feel good. Can you imagine. Levi dedicating like 20 minutes to make sweet love to you doggystyle. 

He has a good feeling for keeping you just on the verge of cumming. He even reaches around to press two fingers into your clit after five minutes of figuring out his angles. You didn’t expect this at all. It’s as if Levi can read your mind going „but his hands are gonna get really messy, why?“ — he just goes on rubbing and says, deadpan: „Miss, do I look like I care.“

Some dirty things in the world are just there to annoy him. They’re not existing to make his life easier. And toilet humor-related things: We know Levi’s stance on that. Wet pussy on the other hand: Surprise. He thinks of it very differently. Levi is pretty caught off guard by the fact that you loving and adoring him is the reason you’re leaking so much. 

It sinks in (um, literally) that you’re all drippy because you really want him inside. Not to mention that he constantly realizes just how attracted to him you are. Your desire for him, that’s Ackerman kryptonite. Levi doesn’t miss your eyes, nope. That motherfucker is a damn good face reader.

And— How warmed up your body feels in his hands, how you’re breathing. How you’re telling him exactly how to tilt to hit the good spots. How you’re sucking in air when he does just that. How you sound, grip the pillow, the sheets. Your goosebumps all over your legs. How your lips part. How you wait for every thrust. The way you tell him how good it is. Your pulse. Your own sweaty back, letting his hands on your waist slip and slide a little with the rhythm. 

How he’s struggling not to moan his soul out and chokes back. How you’re softly moving to glide off, he’s gonna lose his mind. How much you’re enjoying him and how cute you tell him he is. Whatever you’d ask of him, he’s so ready to fulfill it. You having the absolute hots for Levi is probably gonna preoccupy him for the whole night while you’re sleeping and he sits in the chair.

He’s been shooting grumpy cat level eye daggers with extra Ackerpoison at the corps couples for walking around showing any signs of this. Making all those lovey-dovey faces or going to the back of the barn together. Levi has chased them with his favored broom to whoop-diddly-doop those horndog soldiers back on track, swirling his weapon of choice around to send a sweeping cloud of dust after them.

Whereas now… he has to deal with the fact that he really loves all that horny stuff. Cognitive dissonance 101 is striking him out of nowhere. I mean he’d not fuck in the barn, that one is truly disgustingly shittily bastardly filthy or however he’d word it, but you get the gist. He caught feelings and caught pleasure — and that’s such a good thing.

His problem is, Levi wouldn’t know how to fawn right back at you. Except saying „good job“ like he’d praise a cadet, but he decides that’s not something to say during sex. He’s very right about that indeed. So instead: He will always reply to you accordingly and with Levi-typical honesty. 

If you say you love how he kisses your neck from behind, he will tell you he’s enjoying it as well because damn he loves that spot indeed (titans can tell you a story about it… Levi has such a neck fixation, that fucker). And: Letting actions speak the loudest with him. He’s a practical guy. Levi’s hands can to the most complicated reverse grips and all that crazy human Beyblade shit. Getting you off at his fingertips is gonna be his easiest exercise ever once he gets into it.

He doesn’t even do it to show off at this point. Levi is just that kind of a sex machine and eager to please, not to mention god, is he obedient and a giver in disguise. If Levi were offered the most luxurious, expensive tea available versus your breasts to suck on for a week given he’s free of titan duty… that cup is gonna turn cold. He loves the skinship and he loves giving you a fuckton of orgasms, as many as you like and as many he has time for.

Self-explanatory, this is something he will not feel one bit of regret about. Hours touching you is the farthest from wasting time to Levi. The less he holds back with his love, the more secure things become. He doesn’t feel the misery he thought he’d run into, nor does it feel like a reckless act that’s only something feeble. 

The new soap every other week on his table alone reminds him you’re here to stay and like his every quirk, and make this a private thing rather than something to parade around. You never lied saying „Levi, you’re mine.“ He does wrap his head around the fact that all of this is happening with time.

Levi finds your relationship meaningful because it gives him feelings and exactly that emotional harbor he never had before, and he gifts you the reverence of your lifetime since Levi doesn’t half-ass anything. You reassured and guided him so much, he looks up to that, it breaks down his prejudice against loving more and more. That’s how you’ll feel intimate in all kinds of ways for very intense hours he can spare to make the most out of it. 

From the light touch at his arm to making out until the candles burn down. And if you tell Levi to sell the deal and dedicate his heart, how can he not take that as a serious order. He has to be guarded to put his guard down, and that’s what you can offer him, and he will create something lasting out of it. Promise is promise to him, we all know.

RELATED:  sub!levi hc (tea shop au) | life after war (levi’s happy end)

multifandom mlist | levi writings on ao3

© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts and translations allowed.

[thats-a-rock]

Your Relationship | Lin Beifong x Reader

I saw you guys patiently waiting for Lin x Reader updates, so I decided to try my luck with some fluff facts of how Lin acts around you.

Feel free to give me your opinion❤️

Warnings: a sprinkle of spice, mentions of panic attacks and venting situations. If there is more, please let me know ❤️

Basics:

▪️Both you and Lin are independent women who can mostly take care of themselves and even defend themselves. Lin at least made sure of that while you got to know each other. She has a high title as Chief of Police, which means a lot of her enemies might have heared about you as her partner/fiancée/wife. If anyone ever dares to put a hand on you, you give them a fight of a lifetime, at least until Lin arrives to take care of the rest. It doesn't matter if you are a born fighter or an ex-damsel in distress, Lin would have most likely dragged you to the gym or taught you some self defense techniques herself (no matter if you can bend or not). And she loves how much self confidence you got when you learn a new skill. All she wants is that you are safe.

▪️Lin isn't the type for PDA, but there are some gray zones. If she notices you are quiet while being around the group, she will take your hand and press it lightly, followed by a worried gaze at you. This is her way to ask if you are OK without speaking and getting anyone's unnecessary attention. If you shake your head, she will stroke with her thumb over yours and slowly let go. If you nod however, she will excuse yourselves and take you somewhere private to talk about it. She will react the same way if you catch her being a bit to quiet or exhausted. The trust you guys build overtime is solid.

▪️Lin and you are a well balanced Team. If the situation gets too dangerous for Lins liking, she wants you to get the ones that need protection and flee. That could be innocent civilians or even Korra. She trusts you with the task to get everyone to safety. Does it worry you to leave your partner behind? Yes. But it is necessary. The people who are being evacuated out of this situation need your protection. When you and Lin reunite after that, expact the most loving bear hug and praises.

▪️You visit Lin at her job rather often in her office. She is a workaholic and often forgets to take Lunch with her or take breaks in general, so someone has to slow her down. You arrive with a termo bag to keep the cooked rice and other goodies warm, in a shopping bag you have a few bottles of water, two to drink at lunch, and a few to store underneath her desk. You stick a few notes to the bottles that are stored for later, usually you write her compliments, how much you love her and other wholesome stuff. Lin appreciates your visits every time and she will shower you in the most loving and warm gazes while spending the lunchbreak with you. She won't admit to it, but the notes you stick everywhere... She keeps them in her locked top drawer ���

In Private:

▪️If Lin is at home while you cook anything, she will hug you from behind, always. Lin is a bit taller then you and she enjoys feeling your body against hers without distracting you. Sometimes she starts to talk about her day, asks you about yours or just vents about something that has been nagging her for quiet a while. But what gets you weak in the knees is when she starts kissing your temples, your cheek or your neck. She won't distract you too much from your task, unless you slowly turn around to her and answer with passionate kisses. All you hear from there on is the stove being clicked off before Lin lifts you on the counter and takes her sweet time with you~

▪️If you hug Lin from behind while she is cooking, she gets all warm. I can hear her saying 'What do you think you're doing, dove?' in such a warm and deep tone while you get on your tiptoes to reach the back of her neck and her backmuscles. Do that a few seconds longer and Lin will turn off the stove to face you -no- tower over you. 'Guess the food has to wait until I'm done with you...' *insert make out session here👀*

▪️Lin's favorite kissing spots on you:

Lips (of course)

Forhead

Temples

Neck

Shoulders

Top of your head

▪️Lin's favorite spots to be kissed:

Lips (duh)

Back of her Neck

Between her shoulder plates

Corners of her mouth

Palms of her hand (especially when she caresses your cheeks)

Neck

▪️Lin is thankful for everything you do, but something she could praise you for like a goddess, is when you massage her back after a long day of work. One day she came home all tense and moody, so you shoved her into the shover, let her rinse off the sweat and dirt, and then waited for her in the bedroom with some calm and relaxing music, the blinds being almost completely down and your hands warming up the hydration lotion in your palms. Lin was a bit confused at first, but followed your instructions on laying down on her stomach topless. You sat down on her lower back and applied the lotion on her whole back before starting to massage her. From the first moment on, Lin was hooked. You might not be an expert, but what you did with your hands was pure magic. Her tense knots loosened up after a while and Lin almost fell asleep then and there, if she wasn't to busy praising you like the goddess you are. Ever since that, Lin starts glowing whenever you suggest to massage her after a hard day of work. It isn't a routine, but a luxury.

▪️If Lin notices that you are upset, she will go through the mental list she made based on your boundaries. You need to vent and someone to listen to you? She's up for it. You need your space and collect yourself before talking about it? Sure, she won't pressure you and give you some space. Just need a cuddle session to forget what happened? Get your ass on the couch, it's about to get cozy, you want some tea with that? She knows that you would do the same for her. She might not know why certain things get you so frustrated, but she knows that this is your problem and that it should be taken seriously. After that she does some breathing exercise with you, if you feel comfortable for it, especially if you are suffering from panic attacks. The most commen breathing techniques she does with you is breath in for four seconds, hold it for five and breath out for six. It helps the body to relax. After collecting yourself it is much easier to deal with the problem at hand (talking about self experience, hope it helps <3)

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Sorry if this is a bit short, but this is my first headcanon post 🥺 Hope you like it!

[babybluebex]

quad cuddle puddle [tom holland fluff]

➽ pairing: dad!tom holland x fem!reader ➽ word count: 2.5k ➽ summary: tom forgets his birthday, so you and your twin sons help him remember. ➽ warnings: EXTREME FLUFF, dad!tom to boys with super curly hair :,)) ➽ a/n: this entire thing makes me go uwu wow i nEED dad!tom

“‘Morning, Mummy.” 

There was a swift kiss placed on my cheek, accompanied by the smell of Tom’s shampoo, and I watched my husband pick up a mug and hand it to me. “‘Morning, babes,” I mumbled. “You’re up early.” 

“The lads wanted me to make them breakfast before football,” Tom shrugged. “Their eyes got all big and they started pouting; you know how it goes.” 

“And where would the lads be?” I asked, sipping at the warm earl grey in a mug that declared Tom to be the world’s best daddy. 

“Garden,” Tom said. “Running around with Tess.” 

I nodded and placed the tea down, and I captured Tom’s arm in a hug. I sighed heavily, and I whispered, “Let me think. We have a football match today, yes? Anything else?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Tom said, nestling his mouth into my messy hair. 

My heart thrummed. He had forgotten, which was so typical of him. Tom Holland would forget his head if it wasn’t screwed onto his neck. “Silly old bear,” I giggled. “Old, old bear.” 

“Hey,” Tom squeaked. “I’m not that old!”

“Are you sure?” I asked. Just then, I saw Tessa in a blur, rushing past the sliding glass door, quickly followed by Theodore and William. “You’re not forgetting something?” 

“Christ on a cracker, Y/N,” Tom chuckled. “Am I?” 

“I’d say so,” I told him, unwrapping myself from around his arm. “But what exactly?” I turned and stuck my tongue out at him as I walked backwards towards the door, and Tom’s eyebrows knitted together as he mumbled to himself. 

As soon as I opened the door, I heard shouts of “Mummy!” and Tess’s baying at my entrance. Tom and I had just started dating when he got Tess and all of the Hollands said that I was her true owner, more so than Tom. She always came running to me with tail wagging and drool dripping. My boys weren’t much different in their greetings. 

I kneeled to the ground and was tackled by a 40 pound boy. Theodore was the oldest twin, but he was still über attached to me. A lot of other boys at school and football were starting to shed their mothers, but my Theo was always at my hip. I didn’t mind one bit, of course. Even when Theo gets to be older with his own family, I’d still gladly let him hold my hand. “Hi, Mummy,” Theo said with a toothy grin. 

“Hi, my darling,” I smiled back and I ruffled up his tawny curls. “Did Daddy brush your hair?” 

“Yeah,” Theo nodded quickly. “Liam’s too.” 

I looked over Theo’s shoulder to see my other boy Liam laid on the grass and wrestling with Tess. William was younger by a half hour and was a bit smaller than Theo, but everything else was identical. Same brown curls that turned caramel in the summertime, dark brown eyes, freckles and button noses and-- as much I hated to say it-- crooked teeth. Tom had had braces when he was young, as did I, and I hated the thought that my boys would have to endure that. Theo and Liam were the spitting image of their father, hardly anything left for me to contribute to them, but I didn’t mind. Having the house full of Tom and a pair of Tom clones made me happy. 

Liam’s hair was a mess just like Theo’s, and I laughed softly. Liam’s hair was getting long, to about his shoulders, and I briefly wondered if he would let me braid his hair before his match, but the thought was interrupted by Tom from the door. “Lads!” He called. “Breakie!” 

Our boys raced to the door and careened to get their food, and I hung back at Tom’s side. “Theo said you brushed their hair,” I said. 

“Yeah,” Tom said. “Wanted to let you sleep.” 

“Hmm,” I hummed softly. “Did you dress them too?” 

“Yeah,” Tom nodded. “Why do you ask?” 

“Liam’s shirt is backwards,” I said, stifling my laugh. 

“What? No,” Tom said quickly. “No, I-- The logo’s on the back, isn’t it?” 

“No, my love, the logo is on the front of their kit,” I told him. 

“Yeah, Daddy,” Liam chimed in, climbing up into the stool at the counter. “Logo’s on the front, or how else will you see it?” 

Tom scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me, you goose?” he said and lightly tickled Liam’s side. Where Theo was a momma’s boy, Liam was a daddy’s boy through and through. He had always been that way, ever since he was born; I could hold him, Dominic and Nikki could try, we even let Harry, Sam, Patty, and Harrison have a crack at it, but Liam only ever stopped his awful wailing when Tom held him. There was a time when the boys were two and Liam absolutely refused to wear clothes unless they matched Tom’s. That led to several months of candid paparazzi pictures and headlines about how Liam was basically Tom’s Mini-Me. That was a hidden perk to marrying and having children with a famous actor: I could never run out of pictures of Tom or him with our boys. “You goose!” 

“You’re the goose, Daddy,” Liam giggled. “‘Cause you forgot--” 

“Liam,” I giggled, snuffling into his neck. “Let Daddy remember for himself.” 

“You’re killing me,” Tom laughed. His eyes wrinkled at the corners as he smiled, and he turned his attention towards Theo. “How’re you liking those eggs there, T?” 

“There’s some shell in them, Daddy,” Theo said, patting the scrambled eggs with his fork. “They’re crunchy.” 

“Isn’t that how Uncle Sammy makes your eggs?” Tom asked. “I could have sworn he told me that you liked your eggs extra crunchy.” 

“No,” Theo said, his cheeks turning pink as he giggled. “I didn’t say that.” 

“We can get something to eat on the way to football,” I offered. “I think today’s worth celebrating, right, lads?” 

Luckily, Theo and Liam had caught on, and they nodded. “What’re we celebrating?” Tom sighed. “Why won’t you just tell me?”

“I’ll give you three guesses,” I told him. I began to carefully plait up Liam’s hair, and I watched the gears turning in Tom’s head. 

“It’s not our anniversary,” Tom began. His nose scrunched up, and he mumbled, “And it’s not any birthdays… Theo. Is it your birthday today?” 

“No,” Theo giggled. 

“Liam? Is it yours?” Tom asked, his brown eyes twinkling. 

“No! Theo and I have the same birthday!” 

“Oh yeah. Duh. Not yours, I know that…” Tom said, looking at me, and his eyes suddenly widened. “Is it my birthday?” 

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Liam exclaimed. I had seen him ready to burst with it, and the look on Tom’s face was unforgettable. It was glee, the most potent and joyful glee. 

“How did I forget my own birthday?” Tom laughed. “Is that why you called me old?” 

“You’re getting there, love,” I said, pressing my finger to his chin. 

“You’re mean,” Tom told me, and I wound my arms around him. 

“But you deal with it somehow,” I said, and Tom nodded. 

“How do I manage?” Tom sighed, and he leaned down and quickly kissed my cheek. With that, the boys groaned, and Tom rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Mummy and Daddy are gross, I know. You’ll understand one day.” 

The glass door was open as I sat on the couch, a July evening breeze warming the room. Theo and Liam had won their football match, and we all had gone to lunch with Tom’s family and Harrison (who was an honorary Holland at this point). I could hear my husband and sons in the back garden playing, with a bark from Tess every so often, and I looked down at my book. Then, there was an exaggerated yell from the yard, and Tom called, “They’ve got me! I’m being attacked! Mummy, help! Oh, Jesus, Tess, that’s my mouth.” 

When I looked into the yard, I saw Tom splayed out on the grass, twins sitting on his chest as Tessa was licking all over his face. Theo and Liam loved to wrestle with Tom, even though they always won, and it had become a nightly routine ever since we realized that the boys were out like a light about half an hour after the whole thing. 

“How’d you get yourself into this?” I asked. “I thought Spiderman was a really good fighter.” 

“Not when-- Tess, stop the licking, please-- not when he’s ambushed by clones,” Tom said, pushing Tessa away, but she went right back to licking his forehead. “Genetically modified clones!” 

“Oh, dear,” I playfully sighed. 

“We’ve got you, Spiderman!” Theo cried. 

“You might’ve caught me,” Tom began, wrapping a muscled arm around each boy. “But I… Am… Spiderman!” With that, he worked himself to his feet, each son under his arm, and he began to spin in circles as they screamed with glee. I’m not sure either Theo or Liam would ever get over their dad being Spiderman. I remember taking them to set when they could barely walk and having Zendaya and Jacob go all heart-eyes over the “baby Toms”, but Liam had been in a world of his own that day. He clung to Tom’s leg nearly all day, and, whenever Tom was able to take off the mask. Liam just looked up at him and giggled. Theo also liked the fact that his dad was Spiderman; he had told me once that it made him feel safe and happy, and that spoke volumes to me. 

Tom was terrified when I first told him that I was pregnant. We were young; he was only 19 and had just officially landed the role of Spiderman hardly a month before. I was scared out of my wits as well, but I knew that Tom’s heart was good and that he would be a loving father; not to mention I had a whole clan of Hollands behind me to catch Tom if he started slipping up. The first few doctors appointments he missed, due to Civil War filming, and when he finally had a break at the same time as an appointment, he held my hand the entire time. The doctor had passed the wand over my swelling belly and, after a moment, there was the faintest heartbeat. Tom cried. He often cried when it came to our boys. Then, when the second heartbeat joined, that’s when panic started to come in. Twins. We were hardly adults, Tom had a new job, I was still a uni student, and we were fit to have twins. It all seemed impossible. 

Until Civil War was released. Tom-Mania extended to the far corners of the globe, and suddenly there were millions of people backing us. His management team around him was advising him on how to tell his new fans that I was pregnant, but Tom, in typical fashion, didn’t listen to any suggestions and opted instead to post a picture of me on his story with my sweatpants pulled under my big belly, crying about Toy Story. And everyone loved them. Theodore Dominic Holland and William Thomas Holland were more loved than they could ever fathom and now, at five years old, they continued to amass a fanbase of their own. 

According to routine, after our nightly wrestling was bath time (translation: Liam tries to take a shower like a big boy but always ends up needed help washing his hair, so either Tom or I sit in there for half an hour and let him do his thing until he calls upon us), and, if need be, a small snack. When Tom was training for a movie, I tried to keep the whole family on a semi-similar diet, but you could definitely tell when Tom had wrapped a movie just by the state of our larder. It was usually at the pre-bedtime snack that the Oreos were brought out, even if I tried in vain to get them to have a bit of orange. My self control was fairly weak, however, and I gave into the cookies every time. 

And then, the main event. Bedtime. The boys had gotten into a habit of falling asleep in our bed and having us tuck them into their own, but lately, we kept “forgetting” to move them and ended up letting them sleep with us. Two adults, two children, and a dog didn’t leave much room, but we made it work. I was extra conscious of small moments like waking up with little boy drool on my chest, because I knew that there would come a day when I didn’t have that. One day, my boys would grow up and would maybe tolerate a hug at times, and I wanted to savor the moments I had with them. 

Tom read them a story every single night. Lately, at the recommendation of their school teacher, we had begun to read them chapter books, and they were nearly halfway through the first Lord of the Rings book already. The time it took to read a chapter was enough for me to manage a shower, and then I would make sure they stayed down while Tom did the same. 

Usually I did. Sometimes, like tonight, Tom fell asleep while reading. 

He was laying in bed, his legs crossed at the ankle, propped up against the pillows. Liam was nestled in the crook of his right arm, sucking the corner of his blankie, and Theo was in his left. The sight of all three of my boys sleeping together made tears well in my eyes. If I thought they looked alike when they were awake, it was nothing compared to when they were asleep. Tom’s cheeks went red when he slept, usually if he was having a good dream, and Theo and Liam had inherited that. The universe really said copy-paste with my boys. Sometimes, I would hear Liam or Theo say something, and I could’ve sworn that my husband was the one to utter it. 

I stopped briefly to take a picture of the affair, topped off with a toppled book, and I quickly sent it to Nikki. I was nowhere near as good of a photographer as she was, but I knew that she appreciated the little candid moments in our house that she couldn’t capture. Then, moving slowly so as to not wake the sleeping boys, I slipped under the blankets. Tom gave a little snuffle in his sleep and his eyes opened slowly. He looked at me, then at his sons, and he sighed. “How long s’I asleep?” He mumbled, smacking his lips. 

“I only just got out of the shower,” I whispered. “Couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes.”

“Goodness, I’m sorry, love,” Tom whispered. 

“For what?” I asked. “You had a big day, Mr. Birthday Boy.” 

“Dunno,” Tom said, and he brushed a hand over Theo’s curls. “I’m just exhausted.” 

“Go to sleep, my love,” I whispered. “I think they’re gonna sleep really well tonight, what do you think?” 

“Yeah,” Tom whispered. 

I scooted closer to the trio and put an arm over Theo and across Tom’s stomach so that my hand could reach Liam’s side. We had perfected the art of a quadruple cuddle puddle. “I love you.” I whispered. 

“Love you, Mummy,” Theo mumbled, his little voice oh-so quiet, and a tear escaped my eye. Oh, how I loved my babies so.

[mercurytrinemoon]

On houses, house rulerships & how ya'll should stop associating them with signs + a rant on the meaning of the 8th house

This is one of those moments where I'm going to say (read: rant, so heads up, I may sound pretentious) that modern times keep distorting astrology. I’m talking about associating houses with signs/planets (aka the “12 letter alphabet”, briefly mentioned by William Lilly in the 17th century but ultimately it became a product of modern astrologers: first attempted by Alan Leo and decades later popularized and named by Zip Dobyns). Can we just... use a neuralyzer and make people forget that method? It's ingrained in people's minds because, seemingly, it's easier to learn that way - search astro basics in google and you'll see things like "9th house=Sagittarius=Jupiter". This compressed version of astrology seems more accessible and easily digestible for a casual reader and not many newbies try to even question that approach. But there's a reason reputable astrologers these days are trying to erase it from everyone's minds. Signs are traits, planets are vessels, houses are areas of life. Houses are a completely different thing + every person has their own chart with their own house rulers. You can't say Mars is the “natural” ruler of the 1st... well unless, of course, you're an Aries rising, then yeah, your 1st is ruled by Mars, 2nd by Venus and so on.

Sure, some houses share accidental similarities with planets that have been assigned to them by modern *cough*lazy*cought* approach. Example, the 3rd rules communication... oh and so does Mercury. But then again, Mercury has nothing to do with health, injuries, work - all things 6th house. 7th is relationships and 2nd is money & values... and it so happens that Venus shows our attitude towards these things. I would sometimes find myself loosely refer houses to planets, like “oh the 3rd mercurial house” just because SOME of them do fit with the characteristics... and because it's a language that is well-understood (I won't do that anymore). BUT even when I started learning astrology, I had a red light go on in my head when people would straight up go "Moon in Virgo or Moon in the 6th". It never made sense to me. These are completely different things. And I've seen some awesome astrologers who would state things like "oh Aquarius Sun is basically the same as Sun in the 11th", like nah, dude. Because why? Aquarius is the friendly type and the 11th rules friends? Because Aquarius is the big innovator and 11th stands for hopes and dreams? But Aquarius is also a rebel who's stiff in their beliefs. Aquarius is a weirdo, is the 11th house the house of weirdos? No. Aquarius likes to be independent and usually has issues with feeling of not belonging anywhere, while 11th rules communities. THAT'S CONTRADICTORY. Because they're not the same.

Want more examples? Having Venus in Aries is completely different than Venus in the 1st. What do people usually say about Venus in the 1st? That it makes the native charming, lovely, well-put together, with great manners, maybe beautiful, graceful, maybe a bit shallow. When in Aries? None of these characteristics fit, on top of that, it's in its detriment. Our poor gal Venus is uncomfortable and confused in Aries. She's like, "conquer? Swords? Selfishness? Obnoxiousness? Sparring? You're telling me to fight people? What am I doing here???" 

I think it most shows in the 8th house, which... *deep breath* has gone through so much (ironically since it rules transformation), like, there's a lot to unpack here. "tHe sCorPioNic HoUse": tell me in what way does Scorpio have to do with inheritance, death, taxes, other people's stuff? These are the og topics associated with the 8th house. And by the way, it doesn't have to be a material inheritance, because I saw people being confused by that. You can have your 10th house ruler in the 8th so maybe you'll inherit that job as a chairman in your father's corporation, along with its renowned name. Or your 6th house ruler is in the 8th so you'll inherit a genetic health condition from your parent. 

Now, modern astrology, as per usual, tried to turn it into something positive (and psychological because apparently according to modern notion, astrology can’t predict anything so it’s only psychological *eye roll*) and put its rose-colored glasses on it so they'll say things like: transformation or taboo topics - like okay, makes sense, it's an intense house after all. Like a near-death experience or a metaphorical death will be transformative and maybe hard to talk about. And Scorpios do have the tendency to go through drastic situations in their lives and to dig deep & not being afraid to uncover secrets and all that's unknown and scary for others. There you have it, some convergence. But still, Scorpio and the 8th house are two different things.

Then there's the topic of the 8th house and sex. Actually, side note, a quick history bit, the 2nd century astrologer, Vettius Valens saw sex in the 7th house - because that was the thing that happened after marriage - it represented two people coming together. In medieval times it then moved to 5th house of kids - because children-making requires intercourse, duh. Listen, I get that the 8th, as the follow-up to the 7th, is seen as joined resources; and joined everything, including bodies... or bodily fluids... (tmi?) after you get married or whatever. I don't think that makes sense in the modern times. I mean, go ahead if you want to associate the 8th with sex but after some time of studying astrology, I see it almost exclusively in the 5th as it's the house of pleasures. Simply. Besides, technically you can get yourself off and don’t need anyone else to assist you. My issue, again, comes from the root of the association with the 8th. Modern astrologers started linking 8th with Pluto and Scorpio in medical astrology rules reproductive system and so Scorpio is seen as the fReAky sEx dEMon blAh blaH (honestly, try asking Scorpios about their intimate life and they'll run for the hills abashed). So it turned out that 8th house is the "plutonian one" (I had a moment today wondering if it's plutonian or plutonic and idk anymore) so therefore it must rule sex. Well that logic doesn't make sense because everyone knows that the first and most important planet in the matters of sex is Mars but none of ya'll go and say "1st house is the house of sex because it's ruled by Aries". So no, houses are not the same as signs/planets.

12th house has a similar issue. This one has literally nothing to do with Pisces. Like, I feel bad for Pisces honestly, you guys don’t deserve being dumped into the 12th. It's a rather gloomy house and the most positive thing you could come up with it is being the house of imagination and intuition - because it rules the subconscious and partially your mind. And Pisces is usually characterized by those two. Or you could say that they're both kinda foggy in nature - 12th is the unattainable. But that is literally the closest you can get with them correlating. Other than that, 12th is hidden enemies, succlusion, illness (but mental or chronic, it's a bit different than 6th). There's nothing piscean about it really.

But I get it, open most of the astrology books and you'll see chapters called that way. Why? Because it's easier to publish something that's shorter aka simpler for the reader (actually that was one of Dobyns' reasoning behind spreading that approach). That’s why I said it’s lazy. And someone would argue that it’s easier to learn this way - because the information is compressed into 12 sections (signs) instead of 24 (signs+houses) or even more if you include delineations of every house ruled by each sign. Like, “well if I memorize the meaning of Cancer and Moon then automatically I’ll also memorize the 4th house”. But in fact, it’s so limiting in the long run and then forces you to unlearn what you have learnt, which is actually harder than taking the time and grasping the proper meaning right away. And again, with time it warps the meaning of everything.

Saying house=sign completely discredits the purpose of even having houses. And then on top of that it leads to people not understanding their own charts because they don't know the core meanings of the houses and instead look at them through the lens of signs. "I have planets in Gemini but I'm not that talkative and extroverted". Well okay, where are those planets? Are they in the 7th? Then maybe they're not talking about you but about people you come in contact with? Are they in the 4th? Well maybe it's your fam that has those qualities? The 11th? Are your friends like that? Houses are areas of your life, you can't say "Moon in the 3rd or Moon in Gemini" - Moon is "how", house is "where" - these are not the same things, even if they have a few traits in common. 

Ok, rant over, bye.

[inskz]

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop  on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse. 

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence. 

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them). 

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you. 

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now. 

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago. 

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh). 

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before  since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him. 

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen. 

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff. 

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.  

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it. 

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups. 

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything. 

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas. 

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly. 

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil. 

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear. 

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch. 

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.  

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. 

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.  

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little… 

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter. 

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered. 

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask. 

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain. 

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.  

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in. 

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt. 

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately. 

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget). 

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground. 

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you. 

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch. 

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy. 

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials. 

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.  

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter. 

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview. 

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes. 

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can. 

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today. 

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.  

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso. 

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling. 

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue). 

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you? 

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time. 

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall. 

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next. 

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right? 

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.  

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should. 

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.  

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball. 

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves. 

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious. 

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.  

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in. 

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start. 

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. 

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil. 

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.  

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - - 

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him. 

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross. 

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal. 

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning. 

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes. 

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it. 

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe. 

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars. 

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate. 

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm? 

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Movie Night, Pillow Fight [Version 2]

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-13/T (maybe pushing M? but there’s still nothing super explicit. this is just a lot dirtier than I usually write holy cannoli. Heavy kissing, a little bit of suggestive dialogue and narration, minor swearing?)

Original Idea: This (V1 follows this idea a lot more than this one, which I spun off of about halfway through and did my own thing)

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I didn’t think this would be as long as Version 1. I was wrong. This one is ~200 words longer, at 3,491. Version 1 here. They start the exact same but change about halfway through. I wrote both of these two over the course of 1 day by the way, and refuse to pick a favorite. @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

“No, Bruce,” Jason said sharply into his phone as he grabbed his motorcycle helmet. “I’ve already told you a hundred times: Tuesdays are my day off. Unless it’s a Court-of-Owls-attacking-All-Hands-On-Deck emergency, I’m not going on patrol. I’m allowed one night off per week. And I have plans. It’s weekly movie night with a friend of mine. We’ve been doing movie night since college and I refuse to disappoint her. You know why I chose Tuesdays? Because Gotham’s crime rate is lowest. You’ll be fine without me.” He hung up before Bruce could reply.

—

I opened the door. “You’re late,” I said.

“Yeah. I had to go to two different stores to find your popcorn because they were out at the first one,” Jason replied, letting himself in and dropping his motorcycle helmet on my couch. “Let me go change into my sweats.” He pulled his grey sweatpants out of his backpack, two microwave popcorn bags falling out.

I grabbed them. “Thanks Jay,” I said playfully.

He gave me a brief hug before stepping past me to my bathroom. “The things I do for you,” he teased with a sigh.

“Get out of those jeans. You know they aren’t allowed,” I retorted before going over to the microwave. My bathroom door shut loudly. I boosted myself onto the counter and watched the popcorn spin in the microwave.

By the time Jason emerged from the bathroom, only one bag was done. He leaned against the counter next to me, arms folded, and joined my staring.

“So what movie did you bring?” I asked. “You said in your text it was one of your favorites.”

He beamed at me. “Well, my friend, we are watching the very first ever made Frankenstein. From nineteen-thirty-one.” He fixed me with a stare as my shoulders slouched. “Don’t you start moaning in complaint. You put me through watching that awful musical last week—”

“Excuse you, Phantom of the Opera is also a classic.”

“It’s basic.”

“You’re basic.”

“Maybe so, but after going through that ordeal, you promised we could watch one of my favorites. I managed not to fall asleep last week, so it’s my turn.” He stuck his tongue out at me, then shook his head. “I really need to refine your taste in theatre. Remind me to convince Bruce to give me his season tickets to the real opera. He never uses them anyway. Doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

Given Bruce’s parents were shot after leaving the opera, I imagined there was some childhood trauma there. I didn’t bring it up with Jason. We didn’t talk about family besides passing comments on movie nights.

When the second bag of popcorn was finished popping and put in its own large bowl—I had quite the collection of popcorn bowls, usually given to me—we went to my room.

Ever since we’d graduated college—two years ago—we’d had movie night in my bed, rather than on the couch, like we’d done in my dorm. The bed was comfier and gave us more room to spread out. I can’t even remember who suggested it, but it was probably me one week when I was sick or something and we’d just stayed that way ever since.

I’d always hosted too. In college it was because my roommate was never there, and now Jason just liked the escape from his family. They didn’t know where I lived, so the one time he hosted and they interrupted by coming over, he and I agreed we’d just have it at my place. I liked his brothers and sister well enough, but they’d ruined that movie night. I doubted Wayne Manor movie nights ever involved any movies no one had seen before—because everyone talked and yelled at each other too much to actually pay attention to the movie.

Jason put the DVD in the player in my room. “Prepare to be wowed,” he said.

“I’m prepared, trust me,” I replied flatly.

—

“Heeey,” Jason’s voice said softly. “Wake up, doofus.”

I blinked my eyes open blearily. “Wha…?”

He started chuckling. “You fell asleep about halfway through.”

“Duh. It was boring. What did you expect for a casual movie fan from this century watching something from nineteen-thirty-one?”

“Well, all that means is that we get to rewatch it—from the beginning—next week!” Jason declared. I frowned. “Don’t you pout at me. Those have been the official movie night rules since our freshman year of college.”

“That’s not true,” I said, pulling out my phone. I dug deep into the Google Docs on my phone for Movie Night Rules from our freshman year of college. Six years was a long way to scroll through, but eventually I found it. I opened the doc and scanned the rules. “Oh, buzz off,” I muttered, poking Jason in the side.

“No poking!” He lurched away. Jason was selectively ticklish. Sometimes I would poke him in the side and he’d jump, other times he wouldn’t even notice I touched him. And he swapped between the two randomly.

“Why didn’t you wake me up like two minutes after I fell asleep?”

Jason pursed his lips, trying not to smile. “I thought about it. But you looked so cute—” He pinched my cheek and I was reminded of the fact that he had the personality traits of an eighty-year-old grandmother. “—with your hair all messy and your cheeks all squished that I just couldn’t.” He laughed as I batted his hand away from my face. I poked him again. “No poking!”

“Then don’t tease.”

“I have a right to tease you. Look at my shirt! You drooled all over it.”

I grabbed the hem of it and pulled it up. “Let me throw it in the wash, then.”

I expected him to smack my hand away and shove the shirt back down over his torso, but to my surprise, he helped me take it off. I’d seen him shirtless too many times to bother staring at his remarkably muscular torso. I just climbed out of my bed and went to the small closet out in the hall that held my tiny washer and dryer. I threw his shirt in the washer, dumped a bit of detergent in, and got it started before going back to my room.

“Take that off! You’ll stretch it out!” I snapped.

Jason struggled to get one of my—much smaller—T-shirts from college off. I scoffed and helped him yank it over his head before throwing one my pajama shirts at him. I wore my dad’s old T-shirts to sleep in, so it was even big on Jason. “You could have just asked for a replacement and I’d have handed you this.”

“That’s not as fun as surprising you,” he joked.

I rolled my eyes and perched back on the bed. “Fine. Next week, we rewatch Frankenstein. I won’t fall asleep. But you’re bringing snacks again.”

“Of course.”

“And don’t forget the popcorn.”

“Doofus, if I forgot the popcorn, you wouldn’t let me through the door.”

I snickered. “True enough.”

Jason leaned over to set his popcorn bowl on the bedside table closest to him. “Maybe next week we should try this on the couch. I always feel bad about getting popcorn on your sheets—and then you won’t be so comfortable that you fall asleep.”

I grabbed a pillow and whacked him in the chest. His expression turned affronted.

“Did you just initiate a pillow fight?” he demanded.

“No,” I retorted. “I got payback for you insulting me.” I whacked him again. “That was me initiating a pillow fight.” I started flinging the pillow at him again and again.

“Hey! Not fair!” Jason protested. “I’m unarmed!”

I ignored him and kept up my pillow smacking.

He laughed. “Well, if you’re going to play dirty, I will too.” He reached out as my pillow hit him again and he wrangled it from me. “A-ha! Look at that! Got your ammo. How does it feel, to be attacked by your own pillow?”

Jason started smacking me with it. I squealed and blocked him as best I could with my arms. We were both laughing as I tried to reach around him to the pillow he’d been using to brace his back against my headboard. He grabbed my wrist with one hand and hit me with the pillow using the other. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m not going easy on you just because you’re adorable.”

I laughed as he nearly hit me hard enough to knock me off the bed.

So, I switched tactics.

Getting inside his much longer reach was the hard part. Once I managed to duck around his arms and wrench my wrist free, I started tickling him. Tonight was a ticklish night. He squirmed away from me.

Jason yowled—and I hoped my neighbors weren’t home—in laughter. “Stop it—stop tickling!”

I didn’t. I ran my wiggling fingers up his sides and across his neck. He tried to catch my hands, but I was quick enough to evade him.

For a few moments anyway.

“No. No!” His protests didn’t work on me. “Oh you’re as bad as my brothers. Stop it—stop it.” His voice went firm, all traces of laughter gone. With one quick movement, the pillow we’d attacked each other with was discarded on the floor. He grabbed my ankles and pulled me so I was lying flat in the center of the bed.

Jason straddled my waist, trapping my lower legs with his ankles and pinning both my hands above my head on the mattress. He was breathing hard. We both were.

He smiled. “There. Not so feisty now, are you? Hands pinned above your head, lying beneath me all… helpless.” He chuckled and licked his lower lip, his smile turning both playful and wicked. “I could have… any kind of revenge I want.” He bent his elbows, lowering himself over me. My breathing grew shorter and blood roared in my ears. “I can have any…” He paused, eyes flicking from mine to where my necklace charm had fallen down one side and landed on the mattress. His eyes widened, as if he seemed to just barely realize how close we were. “This is…” His elbows straightened, pushing him higher above me. “I’m… sorry.” He started to gently pick his way off of me. “I’m gonna let you go now.”

He released his grip on my wrists. I rolled them and flexed my hands to get some feeling back into them.

He swung his leg to get off me and used it to step off the bed. “I should go,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry. I’ll grab my T-shirt next week.” He strode to the door of my bedroom while I sat on the bed, dumbfounded, jaw hanging open.

As he opened the door, I bounded off the bed.

I caught him before he could reach for his stuff on my couch, grabbing his wrist. “What was that about?” I demanded. He refused to turn and look at me.

“Just… let it go,” he said, shaking his head. He tried to pull his wrist out of my hand, but I grabbed it with my other one to hold him in both.

“No! What the hell is going on with you?”

“Leave it alone,” he growled out.

“I can’t! What happened in there that made you shut down? What did I do wrong?”

He whirled. “It’s nothing to do with you. It’s me!”

“Then tell me what it is!” I shouted.

Jason grabbed me by the shoulders, wrenching out of my grip so hard my fingers ached. He spun me around and pinned me by the shoulders against my front door. A muscle worked in his jaw as he clenched it before fixing me with a crystal blue stare. “It’s just… seeing you beneath me—all flushed pink and panting, your eyes hooded and staring up at me… seeing you like that… I just felt myself fall in love with you!”

If he hadn’t pinned me against the door I probably would have fallen over from shock. My mouth definitely fell open. “Jay… I…” I breathed.

Still holding my shoulders, he spun me around so I was away from the front door and moved to shove his jeans into his backpack.

Before he could, I threw reservation to the wind.

I grabbed his shoulders, forced him to turn and face me, moved my hands to the back of his head, and pulled him down to kiss me.

Our mouths crashed together hard enough to make my front teeth ache, but I didn’t care. My heart leapt into my throat and I almost melted as his arms circled my waist, pulling me closer, so our torsos were pressed against each other. My eyelids closed as I sighed. We were both breathing hard, air from our noses warm against each other’s skin. Holding my waist in both arms, he turned and pinned my back against the door again.

“Oh, God…” Jason breathed against my lips. He kissed me again and I moaned. He reached one hand up and tangled it in my hair. He could palm the back of my skull as though it were a basketball. His fingers were warm against my scalp.

When he pulled his lips away from me, I groaned quietly in complaint.

“We—we should not be doing this,” he whispered, shaking his head. The white streak at the front of his hairline flopped back and forth with the movement. I wanted to reach my fingers up and twist that streak between them. But I didn’t.

“Why not?” I replied, just as breathless.

“We’re friends. This isn’t us.”

“You just said that you just barely fell in love with me.”

“I did. But I’m not willing to ruin the good thing we’ve had going on here for six years.” He panted, shoulders heaving up and down, as he reached up and took my hands away from his face, gently dragging them by the wrists. “You’ve been the best friend I’ve been able to keep longer than a year or two. I can’t… I can’t just… this isn’t about what I want.”

“I’m the one who kissed you,” I pointed out. “What does that say about what I want?”

“It’s not just about wants,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Us being together is dangerous? To whom?”

“To you.”

“Why would it be dangerous for me?” I pushed.

He let me go and spun away from me. He looked like he wanted to shout and rage—maybe throw something—but he just clenched his fists and panted.

When he finally turned back to face me, he’d calmed down a little. “It’s dangerous… because… I… oh, Bruce is gonna kill me…” he whispered, shaking his head again. “Because I… am… the Red Hood.”

Two big confessions in one night. I felt a little dizzy and remembered to breathe.

“Red Hood. As in… the vigilante. And… the crime boss.”

“Vigilante, yes. Crime boss days are behind me. I was newly-back-from-the-dead and not in a stable mindset when I became a crime boss.” I decided not to ask about that. He huffed and sat on my coffee table, instead of the sofa, rubbing his temples. “And I wasn’t going to tell you about it, by the way. You’re the only normal friend I have right now. But it’s too dangerous for us to be together. If any of the rogues in this city knew I had someone I cared about as much as I care about—as much as I love you… you would not survive to the end of the year.”

I crossed from the front door to the sofa and sat on the sofa cushion closest to him, setting my hand on his knee. “Jay, I… I’m willing to risk it. To be with you. We just need to be careful—”

“I’m not willing to lose you. I would have been terrified before tonight if someone worse than me caught you. Knew you were just a friend. Now, though? Now, I don’t know what I’d do if you were captured, and that scares me even more. I saw you under me in that bedroom and I saw a future that was good—for the first time in the nine years since I was resurrected—but I can’t let that be my future. For your sake.”

I bit down on my tongue to keep from shouting. But I did tighten my grip on his knee hard and snap, “Get over yourself, Todd. You’re not the only one who gets to make this decision.”

“No, but apparently I’m the only one who can see things objectively enough to make the wise decision.”

It was my turn to want to throw something. “Jason. Peter. Todd. I don’t care about the danger. And I know you do. But do you know what it’d do to me, knowing that you love me and I feel the same, but you won’t let me be yours? Do you know what it would do to you? I know what it would do to me. It would eat me up inside day in and day out. I would sit here dying for you, waiting for you to come to your senses and carry me back into that bedroom to stay in there all night. But you never would. And I would just wait. I’d never date anyone else. If I tried, all I’d be doing was wishing they were you.

“You and I are cut from the same cloth. Some people are just born to sacrifice. To give up what they want—what they need—for the sake of other people. It’s the only choice we’re ever given, so it’s the choice we make over and over and over again. Sometimes people will split others into Givers and Takers. Those of us born to sacrifice are a step beyond even Givers. We’re the ones who give up everything for others. I’ve done it with my family my entire life. Everyone else always wanted so strongly that my only option was to give up my own. You’re the same, I see it every time I see you with your brothers.

“Jason, it’s time for us to Take. It’s time to let life give us something. This is the moment to be selfish. To put aside Batman and his zealous crusade for one damn moment and let yourself be happy.” I dug my fingernails into his knee through his sweats. “Be selfish for once, Jason.”

He finally looked up at me, eyes meeting mine. “I can’t,” he said.

I clamped my mouth shut and sighed loudly through them. “Yes, you can. If you’re waiting for my consent, you’ve more than got it. I’m telling you now to give yourself consent to want. To take. Get over this hold out that a double life has on you and—mmph!”

He cut me off by slamming his lips against mine, surging off the coffee table and straddling me on the sofa. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled me to one side, sitting on the sofa and guiding me to straddle himself. His hands were splayed over my shoulder blades. I twisted his white streak through my fingers. Our breath shuddered in and out of our lungs. I parted my lips slightly and ran the tip of my tongue over the seam of his lips.

They opened immediately and let me in. I sighed out my nose. “Please ruin our friendship,” I breathed into his lips. “This is so much better.”

He snickered out his nose, smiling. “Does your consent to let me want you include me carrying you back into that bedroom and neither of us leaving until dawn?” He nodded toward my room.

My body shivered. Not from cold. Excitement. Electricity.

“Definitely,” I said breathlessly.

His hands slid from my shoulder blades and down to my legs. He held them and stood up. I hooked my ankles around his back, locking my arms’ grip around his neck.

He carried me to my room, kicked the door shut, and laid me gently on the messed-up bedsheets and disarrayed pillows. On all fours above me, my legs around his waist, he kissed me. Gently, at first, but he quickly grew hungry. His hands worked their way under my shirt, callused palms scraping slightly against my skin.

“Still okay with this?” His voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

“Oh yeah,” I breathed, unable to even speak loud enough to be heard from inches away.

He smiled. Wicked delight flickering on his face. “Well, get ready for me to call you mine. Because I am all yours.”

I smiled. “I’m yours, Jason.”

[clumsyclifford]

you read my mind (better to leave it unsaid)

(x)

here you go @cringeycal​ i hate you <3

read it here on ao3

-

Calum’s not tired enough for this time difference.

Sixteen hours is too many. One day is not enough time to adjust to a whole new circadian rhythm. Their 7pm concert is 11am to Calum, and by the time it’s over it’s smack-bang in the middle of the day in Calum’s brain, and the fact that it’s dark outside is really, really fucking him up.

“This is really, really fucking me up,” he mutters, pulling the curtains of his and Michael’s hotel room shut with a swish. 

“What is?” Michael’s voice echoes from the bathroom, where he’s brushing his teeth. It’s a strange choice, since Michael also brushed his teeth before the show and they haven’t eaten anything since then, but whatever. 

“The fact that it’s dark outside and I feel like it’s the middle of the afternoon,” Calum says. He pulls his cap off his head and throws it aside, ruffling up the matted hair underneath. It’s nice and air-conditioned in the room, and the sweat sticking Calum’s shirt to his chest from the show is starting to dry. It strikes Calum that he doesn’t need to be wearing his gross sweaty t-shirt anymore, so he pulls that off, too, and throws it in the general direction of the hat.

Michael makes a kind of humming noise. Calum can hear the sounds of a toothbrush, and takes no offence at Michael’s non-answer. He kicks off his jeans and flops back onto the bed, revelling in the cool air on his sticky skin for a minute before sliding off to put on some clothes.

Michael traipses out of the bathroom. He’s still in full show attire, and he’s wearing the camouflage baseball cap from before, a pastel galaxy of lavender hair sticking out underneath it. Calum likes this colour on Michael. A lot of the time Michael makes his bizarre hair colour look good, but this time, the hair colour looks good on its own, which is a refreshing change of pace. 

“You look tired,” Michael says.

Calum frowns. “I’m not. And no I don’t.”

“Fine, you look cosy.”

“That’s not the same thing at all.” The sweatpants and hoodie Calum have donned are cosy, but in his mind it’s still that lazy break between lunch and dinner where the only way to kill time is to play video games. He blinks owlishly at Michael. “You look…colourful.”

Michael snorts a laugh. The only colourful part of him is his hair; his attire is all-black, as usual, but Calum is pretty focused on the hair. Maybe the jet lag is getting to him more than he knows, because all Calum can think is that Michael looks yummy, deliciously kissable, and he wants to tangle his fingers in the lilac mess that is his hair and make it worse. 

“You look…like you’re plotting something evil,” Michael returns, strolling towards Calum. He grins. “Stop staring at me! What are you planning?”

“I may be delirious,” Calum solemnly informs him. “What time is it?”

“Midnight,” Michael says without checking. He steps even closer. ��Stop staring, you weirdo.”

“Make me.”

“No offence, but you look like you might snap and go serial killer,” Michael says. “I’m not kissing you, crazy eyes.”

Calum blinks. His gaze refocuses, flitting around Michael’s face too quickly, like trying to calibrate himself. “What if I kissed you?”

Michael shifts his weight, barely a foot away, and smirks. “That’d be okay.”

“I would never snap and serial killer kill you,” Calum says, frowning as Michael’s words finally pierce the thick haze of jet lag clouding his mind. “If I killed you it would be deeply personal and I’d leave a note and everything.”

Michael bursts into laughter. “This is why I say you’re insane!”

“I’m not insane! I’m adorable.”

“Adorably insane.” Michael calms down and catches his breath. “Well? Are you gonna kiss me or—”

“Stop calling me insane and we’ll just see,” Calum says, except then he kisses Michael anyway because he’s tired of not kissing Michael and this argument is not worth the time they’re wasting not kissing.

Michael’s hands immediately find their way to Calum’s waist, pulling him closer so they’re flush against each other. In the stillness of the room, Calum’s own heartbeat is loud in his ears. He wonders if Michael can hear it, or feel it, or if he’d find it strange if he could. They’re just friends who kiss. There’s nothing strange about that.

Anyway, Calum’s a man on a mission, and his palms slide up Michael’s arms and shoulders, framing his face for a second, then continue around the back of his head to the unexpectedly soft strands of hair at the back. 

Victory.

Well, almost victory. His fingertips bump against the brim of the cap on Michael’s head, and Calum grabs the hat and tugs it off him. The gesture makes Michael choke on a laugh and pull away.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s in the way,” Calum insists, taking advantage of the pause to push Michael’s hair off his forehead. A blissful smile breaks across Michael’s face, but he shakes his head anyway like he has to at least pretend to mock every single thing Calum does.

“It’s part of my look,” he says. Calum drops the cap carelessly to the floor and wraps his arms around Michael’s neck.

“Don’t care,” he says airily. “My enjoyment of our kiss is more important than your aesthetic.”

Michael breathes a laugh. “Rude.”

“Rude of you to wear a hat and hide all this sexy hair.”

“Oh, I see. It’s all about the hair.”

“Yeah, duh.” Calum leans their foreheads together. “Pick a bad colour and this is over.”

“Better not pick a bad colour, then.”

Calum smiles. “Don’t think a bad colour exists for you,” he admits. And I don’t think anything could convince me to end this, no matter what I say.

Michael is quiet, watching him, and after a moment of silence he leans in to kiss Calum again, like it’s the only adequate reply he can come up with.

Calum threads his fingers through Michael’s lilac hair and imagines the colour staining his skin, leaving an amethyst residue on his fingertips. He drags his hands down to Michael’s face, imagines leaving a lavender trail, marking the trajectory of his touch. Smudging violet across Michael’s cheeks with his thumbs.

Michael doesn’t taste like lavender or lilac — he tastes like mint toothpaste — but the colours are so vivid behind Calum’s closed eyes that he can swear he can taste them on Michael’s tongue.

When Michael pulls away, Calum licks his lips and opens his eyes. He’s disappointed to find Michael looking like Michael, no extraneous hair dye anywhere, all pale and pink lips but no purple in sight beyond the disaster that is his hair.

“Um,” Calum says, catching up to his own train of thought. “I think I’m tired.”

“Wow,” Michael says. “Hard for me not to take that personally, Cal.”

Calum grins. He’s not sure if he’s tired so much as just ready to call it a night. Otherwise he risks ruining this perfect ending to their day. Any day that ends with kissing Michael can’t be that bad.

“Hey, I could keep going,” he says.

Michael shakes his head, then hesitates, then kisses Calum once more. It goes straight to Calum’s toes, to the tips of his fingers. Somehow, the last kiss is always the best one.

“Well I, for one, am fuckin’ beat,” Michael says when they’re separate again.

Calum resists every single urge to just keep kissing him. If it were up to him they’d never stop. The only reason he ever lets up is the promise that at least they’ll get to do it again the next day. Even now, with the post-show exhaustion catching up to him and Michael basically swaying where he stands — even now, he wants to steal one more, one for safekeeping, one to lock up in a memory box Just In Case.

That would be insane, though.

“We need to sleep,” Michael says. “Or at least I need to sleep.”

“Fine, I’ll sleep,” Calum says. “But dibs little spoon.”

Michael sighs. “Fine.”

Calum kisses his cheek, then leaps backwards and lands on the bed spread-eagle. He doesn’t even have a chance to readjust before Michael’s climbing on top of him like a baby goat or a particularly needy cat. “Oof,” Calum says. “Get off me, stupid.”

“Technically, I think this counts as you being the little spoon,” Michael observes, which is absolutely not true and complete bullshit. 

Calum jerks his shoulder until he dislodges Michael from on top of him. “You’re still in your show clothes, you disgusting pig. Put on some pyjamas at least, Jesus Christ. I’m not cuddling with your sweaty arse.”

“Alright, fuck, chillax,” Michael huffs, clumsily stumbling off the bed and over to his suitcase. While he changes, Calum pushes the covers back and snuggles up underneath. It’s wonderfully warm with the blanket and the hoodie and everything. Calum sighs contentedly. “Don’t forget to turn off the lights,” he adds.

Michael finishes changing into sweats and a t-shirt and kills the lights. On his way back to the bed Calum hears him almost trip. “What the fuck is this?” Another pause. “Oh, it’s my hat.”

“Whoops,” says Calum. Michael finally returns to bed and crawls under the blanket where Calum’s made himself comfortable. “You looked pretty good in it. I just really— I wanted to touch your hair.”

Michael kind of laughs quietly. “And? How was it?”

“Delicious,” Calum hums. He grabs Michael’s hand and presses a kiss to his palm. “Very tasty. Would touch again.”

“You can’t— that doesn’t even—”

“Shh. Shhhhh. Just let it happen.”

Michael sighs. His arm wraps snugly around Calum’s waist, and Calum takes back his thoughts about jet lag. It doesn’t seem like such an issue anymore. “I love you, weirdo. Goodnight.”

“Love you too,” Calum says. He yawns, which leads to Michael yawning; they both giggle, but then silence descends, and Calum falls asleep surprisingly quickly after that, with Michael breathing in his ear.

[melodiesofblueroses]

𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘶𝘱 𝘚𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

→ 𝘈𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

›› 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: You thoroughly enjoyed your makeup sessions with Asmo. Not only were his stories so extravagant and entertaining, but he also loved giving you advice on any of your troubles. In this particular session, you start to reflect on your feelings for your coworker

›› 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: Fluff

›› 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: ~2.5k  

›› 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱: gn!reader , makeup artist!asmo, actor/actress!reader, human au (? kinda)

“ah, y/n, it’s a treat to see you again!” at the sound of your makeup artist, you couldn’t help let out a small smile, happy to have your favorite person on set with you yet again. sure, he may have been the artist that was sometimes assigned to you, meaning that the two of you were nothing more than coworkers, but you also became close friends with him. plus, asmo’s craft and talent with his brushes never ceased to amaze you. your makeup, no matter how extravagant or simple, always seemed to take the spotlight during each shot. it was perfect to say the least, for both the scene and the atmosphere. besides, asmo always knew how to make you look good in anything. he truly had a talent for this. 

“asmo! i’m so happy that you’re my artist,” you exclaimed, finding it quite hard to contain your excitement. you moved to sit in a black chair that was in front of his work station, sitting up straight as you prepared to, once again, be blown away by him. as much as you enjoyed the other artists that were on set, asmo just had a magical touch to his work. he was your favorite by far, although that is to say you weren’t putting down the others. asmo’s makeup work, in particular, exudes confidence, elegance, and beauty all in one. it not only served to accentuate your character’s traits, but also gave you much more confidence when you were up on set. 

“well, i’m glad to hear that you love me so much,” he giggled, getting right to preparing his brushes and kit. this time, he was given the orders to create a natural and simple look. your character was supposed to be at a cafe in this scene, supposedly on a date with some hotshot you’d met in a previous scene. although asmo did get orders from the head makeup artist, he often liked to deviate a little and add his own personal touches in order to make you stand out. as much as that would serve as a reprimand, everyone on set was always taken aback by your makeup, so they let asmo run free. “so, would you like to hear the story of my last failed date?” he sighed, opening up the primer as he dipped his brush in. 

“of course i would, duh. your stories are the highlight of my day.” although that may have sounded a bit of an exaggeration, you weren’t lying. asmo always seemed to have the wildest stories, yet they were exciting and always kept you on your toes. you couldn’t help but wonder how he led such a fascinating and eventful life. currently, your life was quite dull. all you did was wake up each morning and arrive on set, that or practice your lines over and over again to your audience of stuffed animals that sat on your bed. you wished your life held an ounce of excitement that asmo’s had. “did you run into your psycho ex this time too?”

“yep,” he sighed once more, though he never stopped applying makeup. his soft touch on your skin felt so electric, though that was your crush on the man speaking. yes, despite his narcissism and usual shamelessness, you couldn’t help but fall for your coworker. of course, he was dreamy in a sense, with his good looks and fashion taste and all, but asmo was also very caring, a side he didn’t seem to show to just anyone (he seemed to only care for folks that he deemed to be attractive or interesting). however, he always listened to your problems and gave advice whenever you vented to him. and as someone who moved out to a big city in order to pursue more acting opportunities, it really did help to have someone by your side that truly did care. that, plus, he was just so interesting! you swear you could listen to asmo talk on and on for hours about his crazy stories. 

as he went on about his encounter with one of his exes, applying concealer, foundation, etc. in the meantime, you listened to each and every one of his words rather intently. as mentioned before, these stories always kept you on edge. you also couldn’t help but admire asmo’s voice. it was so full of emotion and expression. it was so lively! his voice was honestly really nice. plus, when he sometimes sang little songs under his breath, you couldn’t help but be blown away by this man’s singing talent. who knew he was such a good singer too? geez, now you needed to hear him sing a cover of your favorite songs or perhaps even a lullaby. although you were quite fixated on his story and voice, you didn’t forget to respond every once in a while and throw in your input and reactions, which asmo seemed to admire as well. 

“and that’s basically how i now have a cease and desist on my ex as well as a wanted criminal in the next town over.”

“wait wait wait, back up a second. wanted criminal?” 

“i’m just teasing you darling. just wanted to make sure you were paying attention,” asmo replied in a singsong voice, booping your nose with one of his clean brushes in the process. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, quite used to his incessant teasing. you never knew how you still fell for it after many years of working with him. “anyway, is there anything new with you?” 

“well,” you started, though you were immediately interrupted as asmo applied a small dash of lipstick to your lips. ahh, his soft touch on your ever so sensitive lips made you feel goosebumps. it felt almost electrical in a sense, and you couldn’t help but jump a bit from the contact. geez, you really were head over heels for your makeup artist, especially if a simple touch was enough to make you feel butterflies. asmo took notice of your startled reaction and tilted his head (rather cutely you should say), making sure that you were alright before continuing on. when you nodded that you were fine, asmo happily smiled and continued on applying the lipstick, though you weren’t any calmer the second time around. 

it’s not like you despised his touch. you, in fact, were so in love with it, but the fact that you had such a huge crush on him really didn’t help. you also couldn’t help but recall the time that he had accidentally applied too much lipstick, and when you jokingly asked how you’d take it off, he grabbed your chin and said in such a sultry voice that he’d just kiss it off. gahh, just the memory of it got your heart rate up. of course, he did say that he was merely joking with you in a flirty way, but it felt so real that you didn’t really believe him. despite that memory resurfacing at the moment, you shook it off and continued on with what you wanted to say. “will you ever let me know your real name?”

“nope~” well, that was a quick response, and one that you weren’t even expecting to be quite honest. asmo, for some strange reason, never really let anyone in on his true name, insisting on the fact that everyone around him just called him asmo. you weren’t quite sure as to why he only ever wanted to go by his nickname, but you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he hated his name. if that was the case, then it would be better off if you just dropped it. “it’s not that i hate it or anything,” he continued on, though you were surprised by how well he seemed to be reading your thoughts. “i think that the mystery aspect of it makes me much more appealing, don’t you think?” with that, he added a dangerous flirtatious wink which surely got your heartbeat rising. 

“alright, i get it,” you sighed, smiling as you felt him powder blush on your cheeks. “but you are an expert on relationships and love and whatnot, right?”

“y/n, you’ve known me for a while now, what do you think?” 

“i know i know, just thought i’d ask. it’s just that...well.” oh now asmo was listening rather intently to you while simultaneously continuing to put on your makeup. he really was the biggest gossiper you knew, always wanting in on the juciest of details. and your dull love life was no exception. “i don’t know how to tell this person that i like them…” you couldn’t help but avert your gaze from asmo’s the moment you muttered that sentence, embarrassed that you were talking about your crush in front of him. it really wasn’t something that you had mentioned to anyone beforehand. 

“oo, who are they? you gotta tell me everything if you want me to help,” asmo responded, quite intrigued at where this entire thing was going. “i must say though, they are quite lucky to have someone as cute as you crushing on them.”

perhaps it’s the other way around you thought to yourself, though all you did was smile at asmo’s statement. “well, they’re always so kind. a bit eccentric at times, but that’s part of their charm!” you couldn’t really see asmo’s face at the moment since he was applying the tiniest bit of natural eyeshadow to your lids, knowing that he did so in order to make your eyes pop out a bit. if you could see him, however, you’d assume that asmo was giving you a face that basically told you to continue on. “um, let’s see,” you mumbled, trying your best to articulate your feelings in the best way possible. “although they can be shameless and really flirty, i know that they are really loving and can be a bit insecure at times. i think that their love would be my type of love, ya know?” 

“you haven’t told me much, but you sound so smitten with this person.” dang, asmo really knew a lot about love, huh? it was rather embarrassing that he was able to quickly catch on to your strong feelings. “i say that you confess. who knows, they may even like you back~” with that final statement, you couldn’t help but shake off the feeling that asmo most likely knew that you were talking about him, as much as you prayed that wasn’t the case. imagine telling your crush to their face that you liked them, and they knew that you were talking about them but feigned ignorance anyway. that in and of itself was so embarrassing. but if that was the case, then wouldn’t it be better to take his advice and confess? well, in the heat of the moment, you decided that you’d go with it. 

“you think so?” 

“mm” 

“ok then, asmo, would you like to go out with me?” 

there was a few seconds of silence between the two of you, painful silence that felt like years in your eyes. oh no, what if you just ruined your friendship with your coworker that you had cultivated over the years? all those years of friendship, down the drain due to some stupid five second confession. how dumb could you get? before you could mentally beat yourself over it, however, asmo replied. 

“oo, i like that confidence~ i find it quite hot.” of course, you should’ve known that asmo would’ve found a way to tease you in such a situation. it wasn’t the ideal response, especially since it kinda felt like he was making fun of your feelings, but you knew that it was just his nature to do so. didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less though. you felt yourself tearing up a bit, though that all went away when you heard his next words. “of course i’d go out with you though. i’ve liked you for a while now too.” 

“really?!” it was a bit too enthusiastic and loud of a response that the other artists and actors couldn’t help but turn their gaze towards you for a few seconds. becoming flustered, you averted your gaze and focused on asmo, mumbling out your answer once more. everything had happened so fast that you hadn’t processed the entire situation yet, unsure whether you were stuck in a dream or not. this surely was one exciting thing that happened in your life. 

“yep,” he replied, giggling a bit at your enthusiasm. in his eyes, your reaction was adorable. he really did have a lot of love for you. 

“do you wanna go on a date this saturday then?” wow, you really were quite enthusiastic and fast-acting. it’s not that you were desperate (though some people may argue otherwise), but you were rather bored, and your life was uneventful, so you figured that a date would be perfect. 

“ahh, no can do,” he pouted as he added the finishing touches on your makeup. “my brother lucy,” he rolled his eyes at the mention of the name, “wants me and my other brothers back home for some reason.” he spun you around so that you faced the mirror, opening your eyes to be met with a job well done. his makeup work was truly top of the line, and you were always blown away at the spectacle beforehand. “how about next weekend though?”

“that sounds perfect,” you muttered to both asmo and the makeup look before you. first you snatched yourself a perfect makeup look and then a handsome boyfriend? today really was a great day for you. as you sat there speechless, you heard the director call your name out of the blue. it was finally time for your scene, and right on time too. “oh! i have to go,” you said to asmo, quickly getting up from your seat and adjusting your clothes. “i’ll definitely call you later to set up the details!”

“sounds good.” with that, asmo gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before he turned back to washing and fixing up his station, preparing to do a job well done for the next round of actors. shocked at the sudden kiss, you stood frozen for a few seconds, contemplating on what had just occurred. your first ever kiss from your boyfriend. this truly was a moment to treasure. though, before you could continue on with your daydreams, you heard the director call out to you once more, causing you to drop everything and rush on over. 

although you couldn’t tell, asmo was staring at you quite lovingly from afar, admiring how pretty you looked in both your makeup and costume. too bad he had to go back to the devildom for a few days to prepare for the exchange program. he really did want to spend more time with you.

[seongsangi]

nonstop (2)

author’s note: READ PART 1 IF YOU HAVENT ALREADY. 

pairing: seonghwa x reader

summary: after a night with jaehyun, you wake up to find a mysterious stranger lurking in your room. you have no idea who he is, but he knows you all too well.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: incubus seonghwa, overstimulation, spitting, creampie — this shits kinda nasty imo BUT LET ME KNOW HOW YALL FEEL

***********************************************

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Seonghwa?"

*********************************************** 

"Why are you with Y/N?" Seonghwa raises his voice.

Jaehyun gets defensive. "Wait, how do you know Y/N?"

Seonghwa scoffs, moving towards the bed to pick you up bridal style, eyeing the mess you and Jaehyun made. "Don't worry about how I know her. You said you would be right back, but I guess you couldn't keep your dick in your pants."

"Duh, that's just who we are. Where the hell are you going?" Jaehyun tries to make a move to stop him from leaving, but Seonghwa blinks out of sight with you in his arms.

The next time you open your eyes, the clock reads 4 am. You don't remember how you got back to your place, but everything from last night seems like a blur. You're not even in the same clothes, in fact you're in pajamas. Now you’re not sure if it actually happened or if you've just been in bed all night. Granted, you do still feel drained, no energy to move, and definitely sore in the lower region. You recall just how hard Jaehyun was making you see stars. It couldn't have been just a dream.

"Maybe it did happen," you whisper to yourself.

"Maybe what happened?" You hear a voice you don't recognize from the corner of your room. What the fuck who the fuck is that?! You scream, trying to climb out of bed and head for the door. He's so much faster than you. He blinks in front of the door just before you reach it, eyes glowing a deep red. Holy fuck this is not happening. You're shaking, scared of what will happen now. So many questions are racing through your head but you're too afraid to say anything. You back away slowly, trying to put some distance between yourselves.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," his voice is calm, but his eyes tell a different story. They're intimidating, he's intimidating, but at the same time, your nerves are less on edge and you start to feel more relaxed just from that. "Trust me, I would never hurt you, Y/N."

"H-how do you know my name? How did you get in here? Who the fuck are you?" You whisper, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed. He's got you trapped in your own room with no way out. His eyes soften, the red glow fading. He makes his way towards you, and you can't help but take in his figure. Oh god, he's so fine. You thought Jaehyun was the most gorgeous man you've ever seen, but this stranger might just give him a run for his money. His face is beautifully chiseled, all black outfit hugging him perfectly. Bitch are you stupid why are you fawning over him when he could quite literally kill you right now?

"Now why would I kill you, sweet girl?" He's standing right in front of you, but you can't bring yourself to make a move. He runs his hand through your hair, his soft touch making you feel lightheaded. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you in close. You’re not shaking any more, but it feels like you’re in a trance. You feel like putty under his hands, even though you still have no idea who he is or what he wants. Fuck this should not be happening but you can't get away even if you tried. He has the same aura as Jaehyun, making you feel helpless when you're around them, making you crave more of their touch.

"Why are you thinking about him when I'm right here?" There's a hint of jealousy in his voice, and he holds you even tighter against his body. The hand that was stroking your hair now has a grip on it, craning your head back to get a good look at his face. His eyes are glowing again, but you don't feel fear. You feel something you shouldn't be feeling in this situation, but you can't do anything about the wetness pooling in your panties. He senses that, a small smirk on his face when he realizes he's got you right where he wants you.

"How do you know what I'm thinking?" Your breath gets caught in your throat when he leans down, lips grazing your neck in just the right spot. There's no fight in you left, just a strong desire to have him touch you more.

"There's so much about me you don't know," his hand inching its way up to your breasts. "But I bet you want to find out, don't you?" Every single touch leaves a burning sensation in its wake. You let your head loll to the side, giving in to the way his lips feel on your neck and the way his hand underneath your shirt is making your core warm. You don't know what's gotten into you, but you don't think you have it in you to tell him to stop.

"Show me," you sound pathetic, basically whining for him. You can feel the smirk he's got on his face, ego skyrocketing at your pleas.

“How do you want it?” his hands are a bit more eager now, playing with your breasts and pinching your nipple with just the right amount of pressure.

“Any way you like,” sighing as he leaves a dark hickey on your neck, trailing his lips down to your chest to do the same. He’s marking you like you’re his, but you might as well be in this moment. He pushes you down so you’re sitting on the edge, legs dangling. He’s still standing, towering over you, making you feel tiny in his presence. He reaches to unbutton his shirt and you almost forget to breathe, taking in his half naked figure right before your eyes. His abs are so well-defined, tempted to reach out and touch them. He looks so attractive, the moonlight shining on him from your window, making him seem like a god. But you know those eyes mean something else, but you can’t bring yourself to worry about that. The only thing you can think of is letting him have his way with you.

“Let me take care of you sweetheart,” he says as he kneels, hands on your thighs. His velvety voice makes you spread your legs for him, watching as he settles in between. He starts off soft, kissing your inner thigh, so close yet so far from where you want him. He’s lost in your arousal, loving how much you crave him. When he tugs on your shorts, you lift your hips so he can pull them down. You’re drenched and he takes pride in that, sliding two fingers across your core. You can hear how wet you are, such a lewd sound that it makes you blush.

“All for me, huh?” he sounds so smug, slipping his fingers in and setting the pace. You clench around him, trying to change angles since you’re still sore. He senses a bit of discomfort from you, quickly attributing it to Jaehyun from earlier.

“Tell me what he did to you,” his voice is calm but stern, hand still pumping in and out of you. You’re confused, how does he know about Jaehyun? Why is he asking about him when he’s the one in between your legs? You wrinkle your forehead, not sure what to say.

“Did he eat you out?” You don’t want to tell him about your time with Jaehyun, you just want to focus on him right now.

“He didn’t. He’s missing out,” he brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting your arousal. “You taste so sweet baby.” Fuck that’s so hot, you bite your lip at the sight. Before you can even blink, his lips are attached to your core, licking long stripes up your slit. His skilled tongue draws out long moans from you. His hands are keeping your legs apart, your knuckles turning white from how hard you’re gripping the sheets. When he sucks on your clit, you just about lose it, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his tongue flicking against your sensitive nub. A random thought comes to you: you don’t even know his name.

“Seonghwa, you’ll need it for later,” he says with a wink. He lets go of your thighs, opting to use his hands to spread your lips apart, committing the sight of you to memory. Core glistening with your own wetness and his saliva, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, eyes heavy. You don’t know how sexy you look to him right now. As he plays with your clit, he slips two fingers in again, doubling the pleasure. You fall back onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up from how good he’s making you feel. He loves the power he has over you, over your body. He's learning what makes you moan a little louder, what makes you clench around his fingers, what makes your legs shake. You feel like you're about to explode, the pit in your stomach growing more and more.

"Don't stop please Seonghwa," he could listen to you begging for him all night. Of course he won't stop, he wants to give you everything you ask for and then some. He swirls your clit around his tongue, moving his fingers as fast as he can to drive you crazy. He wants to see your body writhe in pleasure, the pleasure he's giving you. His ministrations quickly send you over the edge, a moaning mess underneath him, trying to push yourself away from him when your orgasm washes over. He doesn't let you get away, licking your core and pumping his fingers nonstop, the sound of you saying his name fueling him.

He feels a rush of power coursing through him, feeding on your fucked out state. He almost chuckles to himself, if you're feeling this way already, you have no idea what's in store for you soon. He takes mercy on you, trying your best to get him to stop so you can gather yourself after the intense orgasm he just gave you. He stands up, wiping your wetness off his chin. You feel so tired, you could literally fall asleep right now.

"That's not even the best part yet," he says to you. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear him taking his pants off. Fuck you don't know if you can take it.

"Mmm, you have no choice baby," you still don't know how he's able to read your mind. You open your eyes slightly to see Seonghwa fully naked, member in hand. He reaches for your tank top, pulling it off swiftly to see you in all your glory. The marks he left on you look so pretty on your skin, making him feel cocky knowing he left them there. He lightly taps the tip of his dick against your core, teasing you with it.

"Are you gonna fuck me better than Jaehyun?" Oh god why the fuck did you just say that. His eyes narrow, the deep red coming back, obviously affected by your sudden outburst. Fuck you're in for it now.

"Yes you are, I can't believe you just said that." Instead of his member, he uses his hand to slap your pussy over and over, punishing you for being such a brat. He's being rough with you, but you both know you deserve it. You can't even think about Jaehyun any more when all your thoughts are now clouded with Seonghwa.

"I'm sorry," you cry out, "I didn't mean it." You can't help the tears that leave your eyes. It feels so good, but it's so overwhelming.

"I think you did mean it. You want me to fuck you so badly, you got it." He slides in without warning and with much ease. He grabs your hands, pinning them above your head. His hips are snapping against yours so quickly, so roughly, you can't think straight. Your whimpers only egg him on even more. You can't close your legs, can't move your hands, can't do anything but let him absolutely ruin you. He leans down, watching your face contort in pleasure. His brows are furrowed, letting you know he's feeling the same pleasure as you. You feel like you're being too loud, worried your neighbors in the apartment building may hear. He slaps one hand over your mouth, sensing your concern.

One hand keeping your wrists in place, the other hand keeping you quiet, dark eyes staring into yours, hips making your head dizzy, fuck what more could you ask for? He's so in tune with your body, your emotions are going wild. The more his hips rock against yours, the weaker you feel. How does he have so much control over you? His eyes continue to glow but you wouldn't put it past him to punish you again if you dare to look away.

His hips don't stop, but he does slow down his movements. He pulls out to the tip and inches his way back in repeatedly, which feels just as heavenly as him ravaging your body with quick thrusts. The slow thrusts this time still manage to make you crazy. He lets your wrists go, but you still can't move them. Your hands are stuck above your head, no matter how much you try to reach out and touch him. His hand moves from your mouth to your clit, rubbing slow circles. You bite your lip to stifle your moans, still maintaining eye contact with him as he uses your body. His free hand roams over your breasts, squeezing your nipples harder than before.

"Tell me you like it," he huffs, leaning down to capture one of your buds in his mouth.

"Oh my god I love it, you feel so so good," you moan, telling the truth because you feel like he would know otherwise. He hums at your affirmation, pleased with your response.

"Yeah I love that big dick in my tight little pussy," you keep going, not holding back your need for him. He takes a deep breath, feeding more and more on the pleasure you feel and the vulgar words you're saying.

"You're a slut," he moves from your breasts to your face, lips barely touching. "Open your mouth," you do as he says, sticking your tongue out a bit. He lets a trail of spit fall onto your tongue. You swallow quickly, giving him a sly smile. You've never done that before, but it feels so right with him, turning you on even more.

"I can't get enough of you," he's definitely consuming loads of energy from you, you must be feeling so weak and delirious right now. Before he takes too much, he wants to make you finish again. He sits up straight, hand stroking your hair, his soft touch now such a contrast from how brutal he was being earlier. His hips are still moving slowly but deeply inside you, trying to savor the way your walls feel around him.

"Harder," your voice is faint, but he heard you loud and clear. He pushes your legs towards your chest, the new angle letting him reach even deeper inside you. He loves the sight of you spread wide open for him, taking him so well.

"Play with yourself," he commands, and you're now able to move your hands from above your head. You quickly reach for your clit, rubbing fast circles to chase your high as Seonghwa fucks you hard. Your toes curl, clenching your walls at the same time. Neither of you can take your eyes off each other, making the moment even more intimate. You're watching him as he gets lost in your pussy, he's watching you as you bring yourself closer and closer to the edge.

"Will you cum in me, please?" you half whisper, half moan. You're incredible, he thinks to himself. How can he pass that up if you sound so sweet begging for him?

With a few more thrusts, you both reach your orgasms at the same time. Seonghwa groans loudly, spilling himself into you as you cry out. You feel so full, so dirty, and so tired. You can't keep your eyes open, head rolling to the side by the end of your high. Seonghwa, on the other hand, feels invigorated. Arguably the best sex he's ever had, he feels an immense power running through him. He's addicted to you, to the way you say his name, to the way you make him feel on top of the world. He doesn't want to let you go just yet, cradling your body as you drift to sleep again. He cleans you up with a snap of his fingers, tucking you under the covers. He leaves a lingering kiss on your forehead, distorting your memories so this would all feel like a dream when you wake up.

[keepingupwithpotters]

go ‘head ruin my makeup

Inspired by that photo. Yup, that one.

Thank you @frustratedpoetwrites for turning this chunk of words into a readable mess. Can also be found on ao3.

“— if you would just stop moving around—“

“Oh, this isn’t moving around Evans. This is a basic bloody reflex. Happens when someone pokes your eye repeatedly with a sharp object - can even be called survival instinct, really.”

Jamie can tell her audience is not appreciating these smartarse responses from the way she huffs while passing the eye pencil she holds from one hand to another. She’s even willing to bet that Lily is currently rolling her eyes in exasperation, but she finds it a little hard to care much for her annoyance at the moment. All her thoughts are focused on how nervous she is, how sweaty her palms are, and how much time she has left until her date. She realizes what a bad idea it was to even think about the date as her right leg starts jumping up and down again. Right… Better not open that can of worms and focus on the present then - which honestly starts to seem much worse for her nerves because Lily has decided to stop the shaking leg with a firm press of her hand.

A breath held. For one second, two maybe. Her leg stilling so abruptly... The hand has left her thigh. She really doesn’t know how long she can keep doing this.

“Did you forget the part where you asked for this Potter? I thought you wanted to look Muggle for tonight,” huffs Lily while she turns her back to the sitting witch beside her and rummages through the impromptu makeup counter in front of her, trying to choose her next product.

When she turns back she has an admittedly slightly less dangerous pointy stick in her hand but a much, much more wicked smile. “Well, this is how we do things – á la Muggle.”

Jamie can’t tell if she is terrified of or excited with the promises behind that smile, those two feelings that become so interchangeable whenever she’s around her.

“Okay, I need you to close your eyes,” instructs Lily while leaning into her face slowly, causing Jamie’s mind to short-circuit completely, rendering the dazed witch unable to follow the simple command.

She is still looking a little stunned and not even blinking - which is, you know, the opposite of what she ought to do - when Lily’s face clouds with worry as she feels the need to add, “so I can smudge the pencil? A little hard to do when your eyes are open without you screaming bloody murder about maiming and survival instincts.”

This, Jamie can understand and readily comply with – thinking that maybe not seeing the girl standing oh so close to her can help with some of her worries at the moment. Which are mainly concentrated on not making a fool out of herself, as they always are. She realizes how wrong she was, and what an idiot she had been to even think otherwise when Lily’s hand comes out of nowhere and holds her head in place.

Now, logically Jamie can understand that the said hand did not actually come from nowhere – she just had the misfortune of having her eyes closed and had no time to prepare herself for it. She also understands the necessity of holding her head in one place as she is prone to fidgeting around whenever Lily becomes too close. The problem is however, her warming cheeks, out of rhythm heart, and swooping stomach did not seem to get the same memo as her brain. 

The swooping stomach, she’s used to. It has become an almost permanent feeling whenever she’s around Evans. Considering they are roommates who have the same schedule, it was safe to say that this was a daily occurrence – which you’d think would give her some time to get used to it. But every time Lily laughed, smiled or yelled at her at questionably high volumes, it came back - strong as ever. So Jamie learned to live with her butterflies’ residence in her middle, their daily flutters not resented but expected.

Her heartbeat is a rhythm she is prone to pay attention to for many different reasons. It pounds in her ears under her invisibility cloak, with the adrenaline of almost getting caught after a good prank. It beats out of her chest, just before the starting of a Quidditch match, blocking her ears to the screams coming from the stands. And now it stops and it starts again whenever Lily decides to call her Jamie, whenever she leans in to her while they are sitting like this is just something they normally do.Whenever she recalls something that Jamie mentioned ages ago – never expecting her to pay attention, never expecting her to care. She doesn’t know how many missteps her heart can take, she can take. She supposes it can’t be healthy, to have a heart that loses its rhythm this much around one person, but she never was one to take the doctor’s orders was she?

The quickly rising temperature of her cheeks, she is trying to will into disappearing to no avail. At first she thinks it’s because her eyes are closed - she was just hyper aware of the soft and small hand on her face, barely covering her cheek. As she feels the warmth spreading from her cheeks to her neck as Lily strokes her face slightly –she’s stroking her face!- she realizes that it is actually a blush blossoming on the highs of her cheeks, wherever the pale skinned hand touches.

 Jamie wants to open her eyes desperately, needs to see Lily’s face. She needs to gauge what’s going through her mind because it is impossible to do so with your eyes closed, and she has to tell her that she is not just holding, but actually stroking her face, because Jamie really isn’t sure the redheaded girl realizes what she’s doing or how she is affecting the subject of her gentle touch. She also doesn’t know which option is worse – Lily doing this intentionally, knowing exactly how it makes Jamie dysfunction momentarily, or Lily just casually stroking her face without any thought, dare she even think because she wants to?

 Unfortunately Jamie is not able to solve any of these mysteries because she still can’t open her eyes so she decides to focus on a problem she can solve – her traitorous cheeks.

Blushing always used to be Evans’ thing. Her face waiting for any moment to betray her and display the many emotions she was feeling at that moment for the whole world to see. Jamie adored Lily when she was angry and her face matched the colour of her hair, adored her when she was embarrassed and her cheeks lit aflame with emotion, when one of Jamie’s many suggestive lines left her speechless with the apples of her cheeks burning bright. 

Lately though it has become Jamie who’s rendered speechless, who is staring at Evans’ back, dumbfounded with a blush forming on her cheeks. Jamie who can’t form coherent sentences and stammers over every word, where she used to be able to speak even if the recipient was not always fond of the sentiments. She doesn’t know what to think of this new update, just hopes that Lily is as observant about this as she used to be.

When Lily finally tells her to open her eyes, with one last lingering feather light touch, she is still at square one on her mission to get rid of her red cheeks. At least now she has the opportunity to observe Lily closely, looking for clues in her face about the presence of her ever persisting blush. It’s hard to do so as thoroughly as she desired because Lily removed her glasses at the beginning of this makeover, and she isn’t able to make out much of her facial expressions unless she comes real close to her – not that she is complaining, she thought it was a brilliant idea to help her control herself around the fluttering girl.

Squinting her eyes, she tries to look at Lily as distinctly as possible.She is very sure that Lily is in fact not aware of Jamie’s blush, because there is no bloody way that she would be able to hide the self-satisfied smirk she gets anytime Jamie blunders in front of her. The sort of smile that makes you feel like she is in on a joke that you are not part of, so you better catch up to her. And Jamie is trying so hard - to catch up, to be a part, to not blunder. Just as she relaxes in her chair she sees Lily slyly putting the unused pink blush back in the makeup bag, never to be mentioned again.

And she realizes, once again, that she is an idiot.

Lily decides to talk to her again as she is leaning against the table casually, her whole posture relaxed. “I was thinking something golden obviously, for your eye shadow”

Obviously?

Jamie is sure she is missing something entirely, a glaring fact that is probably right in front of her face. But she had already made a fool out of herself too many times to count, and she is not going to be the butt of the joke this time. And so she repeats back the sentiment confidently, 

“Obviously.”

Her desired duh effect seems not to convey to the other side, as the word out of her mouth sounds like a question more than anything and Lily is raising her eyebrows again.

“Are you fishing for compliments here Potter?”

“Ah, is it because gold complements my tan complexion perfectly?”

“Yes, like a drop of sunshine gliding across your face,” she says with a straight face. She only hesitates for a moment before adding, “To bring out the gold in your eyes.”

“My eyes aren’t golden,” Jamie retorts quickly before she can stop herself.

She is met with another eye roll, “I didn't say they are golden, did I? Just that they’ve gold flecks in ‘em.” She tilts her head to the side as she ponders over something before saying, “They come out when sunlight hits your eyes, or when you—“

This time she does stop herself abruptly, looking like she already said too much before finishing her sentence, “or firelight. Any light really, just stand under a big candle next time you want to impress someone.”

Jamie knows she was not going to end her sentence this way, and she knows Lily is aware of that. But right now she looks so bloody uncomfortable that Jamie can’t find it in herself to push for more answers, not when all she wants to do is make her relax again.

“Well, I am ready Evans. Go ahead, make me a pretty girl.”

This does seem to bring the smile back on her face. “Don’t act like this makeup shindig is not just me indulging myself,” she scoffs,” you’re already drop dead gorgeous.”

While putting on the eye shadow, Lily allows Jamie to keep her eyes open, on the condition that she only looks down.Which means her hands on her lap are the only things in her line of vision. She can see them start fidgeting clear as a day when she feels Lily’s warm breath on her temple.

The standing witch manages to tolerate it for three seconds before snapping. “I swear to Merlin if you don’t stop fumbling your bloody hands around I’ll sit on them, you know I will.”

 Jamie lets herself think about the possibility for one glorious moment before gripping the arms of her chair so hard her knuckles turn white. She can’t see Lily’s face but she can feel the smugness radiating off her. Whatever, she can have this round. She can win any round really, as far as Jamie is concerned.

“Look ahead for me now Potter, I need to see if both sides are equal”

She happily obeys, realizing she can now stare at Lily without getting noticed as she crouches down to her eye level in front of her.

Jamie uses this time wisely, drinking in the sight of her as she concentrates on the task - trying to keep the eye shadow the same level. She seems to find her work satisfactory enough, leaning back slightly to give her a once over.

“Did it work?” Jamie asks with excitement in her voice, finally free from the intoxication of having those green eyes so close to her face.

“Yeah, sure. You are officially a pretty girl.”

“Not that, Evans. And you said I was drop dead gorgeous, no take backs now” she counters quickly. “I meant the gold flecks, did they appear?”

She gets a contemplative look on her face that is disrupted by the warm smile on her lips, eyes lightening up with affection and something else that Jamie can’t place. “Yes, it worked. I am clearly a brilliant makeup artist.”

The smile is still on her face as she gets up from her position on the floor to walk back to where the rest of her makeup products lay. She quirks an eyebrow as she asks, “How do you feel about false eyelashes?”

“Uh, scared? Fear seems to be the general emotion, yeah.”

Lily sighs like it pains her so, “Fine, we’ll stick to mascara like a boring little wuss.”

She doesn’t even have the time to object to that slander before Lily is right back by her side again, asking her to keep her eyes open as she applies the mascara. She needs to slightly bend towards Jamie’s face while she does it, the height difference when one of them sits down makes it impossible not to.

The slight tilt of her posture causes the wide neck of her shirt to dip a little, just enough to give Jamie an eyeful of constellations across her chest – spreading down, down and down. She counts one, two, three freckles starting from her collarbones before she realizes with a start where they are headed, snapping her eyes up immediately as she stops connecting the little dots before her.

While she has the opportunity to see if her ogling was noticed by Lily, she is too embarrassed to do so – choosing to focus on a spot over her shoulder instead. When she gathers the courage to look at her face again, she is already gone from her side – seemingly done with her lashes for now.

But she doesn’t jump on the next product she plans to use immediately like she had been doing until now. She doesn’t even pick up a new brush with clear glee in her face. What she does appear to be doing is staring at Jamie’s face with a thoughtful look on her face, like she is trying to calculate what her next move should be.

Jamie quickly trıes to go through all the steps she knows about makeup in her mind, frantically trying to figure out if this is the end of their little moment. If it is, she knows that means it is time for her date and she also knows she is still not ready to think about that yet.

She tries to cling on to their time desperately, “Well, is that all then?”

“No,” Lily hums, “we still have to put on some lipstick of course.”

Of bloody course, Jamie had never been more relieved to hear those words as she did now.

“Trying to pick a colour for me, Evans? I’ve been told I look absolutely smashing with a pink lip you know?”

Lily lets a small smile interrupt her pensive face for a moment, “I’ve chosen a red lipstick so you can keep representing Gryffindor pride for the rest of the day.”

The unsaid question lies in the air - Jamie doesn’t open her mouth to ask what the hold-up is, but she has a feeling Lily is about to answer it anyway.

“There is just something I want to do before I have to worry about messing up your lipstick.”

And Lily Evans is kissing her… again. Jamie was a fool to think that nothing could top their first kiss she realizes, as she feels Lily’s soft lips on her own, tries to breathe her in, tries not to die. The warm feeling in her belly still has not passed since they went on their first date. Since they walked under the snow until their cheeks turned to poppies, since Lily decided that she actually couldn’t wait for Jamie to make the first move and kissed her. A soppy smile has not been far from her lips ever since that day, widening when she looks at snow, widening even more when she gazes at those green eyes.

When Lily came to her with all the excitement of the world in her face, asking if she could take her to Muggle London for their next date - how was Jamie going to say no, really?  Not when she prattled on giddily about after that how their next date could be in somewhere magical again, talking about taking turns planning dates – like Jamie hadn’t been planning them since 5th year, like it escaped her notice she basically confirmed at least four dates in their future in one breath.

The maddening effect of talking to Evans’ has left her body completely this afternoon, when it finally sunk in that she was going to Muggle London - a place she had never been before. The pressure on her poor nerves only rising when she turned to Sirius for some advice, wear corduroy trousers with no knickers Prongs, that’s what all Muggles in London do I swear.

So that’s how Lily finds her when she walks into their dorm – standing around a big pile of clothes, talking about how it is completely barbaric to not put on knickers.  Thankfully she catches on swiftly that Jamie is seconds away from spiralling into a panic and she comes up with the great idea to help her with her makeup – in the latest Muggle style, no less.

To no one’s surprise, her plan works swimmingly - Jamie, no longer thinking about corduroys or knickers, focused only on Lily as she usually is. And now her whole body relaxes once more, as she is still kissing her with all she’s got. She feels Lily’s hair slipping through her fingers like silk, counting her blessings while getting lost in all the soft sounds she makes.

She is still dizzy from something purely Lily when they stop kissing. They both take a moment to just breathe each other in before Lily steps away from her, a fact she only knows because her warmth is missing. She opens her eyes just in time to see Lily’s bashful but pleased smile – a smile she is getting used to now.

From all those moments her brain was low on oxygen – at least that’s what she wants to believe- the first words to come out of her mouth were, “Does that mean you won’t kiss me after you put my lipstick on?”

“Let me make that decision after I actually put it on, “Lily said while not taking her eyes off her, “We are already late as it is.”

Lipstick proves itself to be the hardest part for Jamie - Lily is both holding her face and leaning in to her, and this time Jamie’s eyes are free to roam her face as she pleases. She has a hard time breathing as she stares at the freckles on her nose, trying not to think about the others she saw not too long ago. Just as she is starting to think she is about to turn into a puddle under the intensity of Lily’s eyes on her lips, it’s over and Jamie can breathe again.

“And one last finishing touch,” Lily breathes as she goes to bring Jamie back her glasses, handing them over as fast as she can.

Jamie takes a moment to drink her in when her vision finally clears up, thinking if it’s possible for her to have gotten more beautiful somehow while she was partially blind. She keeps her eyes on Lily’s face to not miss any emotion this time, “Well Evans, what’s the verdict?”

The same wicked smile spreads through Lily’s lips, “Looks like I’ll be kissing you for a very long time, Potter.”

[appledotcodotuk]

why the hive fckin suck at its job: a rant

spoilers for tgwdlm ahead!

first of all, it's important to consider what exactly the hive's job is. my answer is... who the fuck knows. literally. what is the hive's aim. what do you want Paul? more like, what do you want hive? let's find out!

it kinda evolves, as the play progresses. the intial aim of the hive, and one that does actually remain consistent is the constant burning need to grow and devour and gain more and more (insert capitalism metaphor here).

however, this is distorted by the people it possess who influence that aim, as we'll see later.

also the fact it crashes into a theatre displaying Mamma Mia gives the hive the motive it need to fit the world around it to the structure of the musical. having no originality of its own, the hive instead just picks up what is given to it. kinda like an evil baby.

it wants uniformity, that is indeed its ultimate goal and desire, no duh. it thinks it can achieve that through musical theatre, shame that the hive is dead wrong. cause the hive fucking sucks at its own job / aim / ultimate purpose / one concrete goal that motivates all its actions.

can't maintain control over its subjects

okay, so, the hive wants uniformity. it wants everyone to be dancing to the beat of its own tune. right? yeah. shame it literally can't keep its own possessed subjects in line at all. at the risk of sounding like the 10th doctor waxing lyrical abt humanity for the 50th time, humans are really difficult to control cause we're not really motivated by an altruistic allegiance to one primary good. we've got icky emotions that often move us to do stupid unpredictable stuff way more. it makes me wonder if the reason the hive wanted to use musical theatre to try and persuade ppl was cause it seems to think that is how theyll get emotive humans; through emotive songs. anyways. let's look at some examples shall weeeee?

Mr Davidson:

so, Mr Davidson. funnily enough, he's the guy whose in part acting as the hive trying to figure out what it wants through his interactions w/ Paul. every person it possess gives it just a bit more humanity and curiosity abt the world it is currently taking over. at least I think so. hence why as the musical develops u get character's like possessed!Alice wondering 'why does it hurt to love?' - the change in music and mood to something much more introspective really suggests to me that the hive is beginning to question the thoughts and emotions of its human hosts.

Mr Davidson is a family man through and through, he loves his wife Carol. she's his muse, his source of light. his feelings for her are not concrete or easy to explain and solve - hence why his sudden ahem demand of her is so hilarious and also jarring. it completely clashes with the 'I want song' which is simple, and often pushes forward a wider cause. not so with Mr Davidson, he just really loves his wife man. enough to break a frickin alien possession.

tbh I think its hilarious that (at least to me) the hive has to force him to forget and continue with the song, like, he straight up is just talking to his wife in that phone call, talking, not singing. so, no possession until he reverts back into song. ergo, the hive cannot maintain the uniformity it wants. even from the get go when theoretically its control should be stronger cause it has less ppl to co-ordinate. bad. at. its. job.

Paul:

this one hurts folks. yes, I know it's generally agreed, though somewhat debated that the state of Paul by the end of the tgwdlm is not purely possessed. I agree. once again, the hive is unable to truly enforce uniformity.

at this point, the motives of Paul and the hive are kinda just mixed, neither fully human nor fully alien. hence the constant shifts between pleeing for her to get away, to hide, to stay safe: 'what if the only choice is you have to sing to survive' and just full on old style hive nastiness 'let me puke in your mouth and just open your food bin girl' (so romantic 🥰 /j).

the hive has gone away from its original aim, and become something... different. no longer stuck to just one type of genre or style of song, it's really clever to show the developing complexity of the hive by showing how it is now juggling lots of different motifs with references to all the old songs from before recontextualised in a new way - its learning. evil baby... no longer uniform.

general miscommunication:

there are several instances of the hive not fully having uniform control over its subjects. for instance, right after not your seed with the three teens having to like... calibrate. they aren't just completely connected then?? also, this is a very small thing, but uhhhh at the end of inevitable when Paul is about to say the apotheosis is upon... the chorus interrupts him with USSSSSSS. interruptions??? not very in sync of u hive.

I think this inability to exert uniformity is also shown in the contrast between genre of musical theatre. my alien abomination cannot decide whether it wants to be the more modern edgy rock musical (join us (and die), not your seed ) or super happy go lucky old style musical theatre (lah dee dah dah day, and inevitable). it tries to do both, even while trying to encourage union, and sticking to one thing. hypocrite!!!!!

2. aims are guided by the people it possess

so, I mentioned this a bit already, but the hive isn't only mutating the humans, the humans are mutating the hive right back. this is more an interesting observation than any actual analysis but let's goooo.

greenpeace girl:

I think it's very likely that greenpeace girl is one of the first to be possessed. This is probably easily debunkable but whatever this analysis is flying by the seat or its pants anywayyyyy. why? cause where else would it pick up that whole 'this planet needs fixing' thing? it's interesting too, cause it morphs from expressing the desire to join hands and sing together, unity and peace with no actual action behind it. this then goes right to the other end, with the hive going 'fine I'll do it myself' and trying to save things by enforcing a dictatorship on the world. it develops and changes, and strays from its original means of accomplishing its aims! speaking oooooof...

3. inconsistent in means of accomplishing aims

okay, ur an evil hive mind. u think musicals are the way to win over these silly humans cause they're all weak and emotive and seem to respond to them. but, wait! schwoopsie! you haven't realised that for emotional depth and growth to mean anything, you need there to be established development and well... growth. otherwise the sentiments are as vague as the ones expressed in What Do You Want, Paul?

this show has genuine emotional moments, just not really during the musical numbers WITH EXCEPTIONS. any strife is smoothed over quickly, and so the development and change that would have to go into such growth is just gone. (see, You Tied Up My Heart) all so it can achieve its own desire to grow and grow and grow, maybe a metaphor for art being killed under late stage capitalism??

what actually matters is the impact the songs have afterwards, in causing a death - because we have a bond and care abt these characters. those short scenes between Paul and Emma are actually way more resonant than any song. except... inevitable, and also not your seed a bit. at this point the hive has learnt a thing or two, and can actually twist human emotion a little. but for it to do that, it has to reject the uniformity it prizes, and be adaptable. point towards being more human than it first thought? methinks so. and yet it's just not enough...

it's also why let it out, to me, feels really ingenuine. Paul has expressed himself in much better ways already. what they're doing is clearly paining him, and hurting the guy. he's terrified bless.

you can't force someone into being emotional vulnerable, man.

it's why all the deaths for the characters who are forced to express themselves are really violent, involving them being ripped open - literally forcing them to expose themselves from the 'inside out' as Alice reflects in Not Your Seed. you can't force genuine emotional connection, it has to be fostered, shown in the much more affecting relationship of Paul and Emma. the only reason the hive actually has power over our characters is because of these genuine emotional connections, which it tries and often fails to take advantage of, resulting in just resorting to brute violence. messy hive, very messy.

at the core, the musical's a kinda attack on that toxic positivity mindst: trying to force people to reach the sort of easy solutions by sharing feelings in a way that feels pretty invasive and deciding you are instantly fixed. the problems these characters face are jarringly not really what you'd expect a character in a musical to face, cheating, a lot of it, mid-life crisis. problems that are bland, or wayyyy too real. this is purposefully done, to reveal just how silly the hive's aim to use musical theatre to solve everyone's problem is. life is more complex than that smh.

4. a human can write a much more expressive, and genuine song than they ever could lol

u know which song I'm talking abt. what more is there to say. so much for making persuasive songs to tempt people over.

5. make me sad cause they took some perfectly nice ppl and funked them up 😭

this was a stupid point lol. basically I'm just bitter that this hive took a bunch of perfectly okay ppl and gave them hive brain. screw u hive. I swear I'm gonna watch Black Friday soon, cause I'm sure it's gonna completely destroy every thought I've had so far, but whateve,,, just take this as a look at tgwdlm like it's a stand-alone piece.

these guys are supposed to all be 'individuals' on one level, but also 'appendages of a much larger organism'. there's a little too much individualism and fracturing to be cohesive enough to do that I feel. the hive to me is not an infallible, unstoppable force, in fact, every human it takes over only brings it closer to understanding us. so that's maybe a slight positive note??? idk ?! I just have lots of thoughts and feelings abt this musical even if this doesn't make sense I'm proud i wrote it down hehe.

[dirtyoatmeall]

Unexpected Meeting pt 2 (Kaminari x reader)

A/N: It’s here! I set this up with the possibility of doing more parts, I hope this is good. If you guys would like to send in requests, just send in an ask! 

Part 1

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x Bakugo sister! reader (female pronouns)

Word Count: 1548

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, allusions to past trauma (kind of), swearing ofc, Everyone is 21+

Taglist: @doubled-up-jeans

~~~~~

Laughter surrounded you as your eyes held fast to Kaminari’s. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve this, and you internally cringed thinking back to what you told your brother and his boyfriend about that night. You can vaguely hear Bakugo saying something in a disgusted voice, probably about what you said earlier.

Your face still beet red, you grabbed the blonds hand and dragged him into the kitchen, suddenly glad your apartment wasn’t open concept. After a moment you realize you’re still holding his hand, and you let go, face flushing impossibly redder, and you took a step back. Kaminari seemed to have recovered quickly, possibly from the fact he was no longer in your brother’s presence. He smirked and looked you over, like he hadn’t seen you naked last night.

“So, come here often?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the fact your lips twitched up. His smile widened, taking a step closer to you. “I take it this is why you couldn’t go out to dinner with me tonight?” You nodded, and raised your chin a little to look into his eyes.

“It is, and you were planning on skipping this dinner if I had said yes?” He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, “I actually forgot about this dinner, my roommate reminded me after I got home.” You smiled, face finally returning to a normal temperature. “Well, I’m glad they did, or else I wouldn’t of been able to see the absolute look of disgust on my brother’s face.” Kaminari laughed at your words before getting a mischievous look. “And I wouldn’t of been able to hear that you told them I’m the best you’ve had?” Well, that didn’t last long you thought as your faced flushed for the umpth time that night.

“Okay, well you weren’t supposed to hear that, but I’m not going to retract my statement.” You looked everywhere but him as he made a quite “oh?” and stepped closer to you. Brow arched, he grabbed your chin gently between his thumb and finger, bringing your attention to his now heated gaze. It seemed like time slowed as his face came closer to yours. You felt a slight tingle of electricity as your lips barely brushed, but before you could deepen the, a voice sounded out from the entryway.

“Are you fucking kidding me? No, stop, I’m going to literally fucking throw up get away from the food.” Your brother demanded as he walked over to get the food that was on the counter next to you. You and Kaminari broke apart, you made a face at your sibling as you handed him the food. “I’m keeping this in mind the next time you and Kiri forget that I live here too.” Bakugo made a face right back and turned to go back to the dining room, muttering about you going back to Europe.

You sigh and turn back to , well, whatever this was, and smiled, gesturing in the direction your brother went. “ I guess we should join them before Bakugo has an aneurysm.” Kaminari snorted as he followed you back into the dining room.

Honestly you don’t know why you expected better. Of course, everyone is seated by now, with two empty seats sandwiched between Kirishima and your brother’s pink haired friend. It’s better than being next to your brother you think, as the pair of you get seated, ignoring the smirks the rest of the table (excluding your brother, who still grimaced every time he looked at the two of you). The attention slowly shifted from you and Kaminari to just you, and you finally got introduced to everyone.

As the conversation lulled, Ashido shifted slightly in her seat to face you, speaking after she finished chewing her food. “You were in Europe right? What’d you go there for?” You smiled, setting down your drink before turning your attention to her. You saw Kaminari out of the corner of your eye, sipping the alcoholic seltzer they had brought as a house warming gift.

“Oh, I went to study abroad! I was pretty much there for my whole first year, which is why I hadn’t met you guys sooner. But basically me and a small group of other students went to different countries and got to see their education models in action, for example, Finland doesn’t really assign homework or focus on standardized testing, while the US focuses heavily on them.” You rattled off some other facts about what you learned during study abroad before taking a breath and taking a drink. You could probably talk about this all night long. When Ashido had first spoken to you, everyone was in their own little conversations, but at the end of it, everyone was focused on you. Your cheeks turned pink, and you tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, figuring out what else you could say, when Sero spoke up.

“Oh rad! So you’re an education major? What do you want to specialize in? My mom’s an Asian studies professor!” You eyes widened and you got giddy. “Woah really? That’s so cool! Honestly I’m really stuck between literature and history, but definitely high school or college, I can’t handle little kids having accidents and middle schoolers would make me cry.” Everyone snickered at your completely serious statement, and you gushed some more, talking about how you’d always loved history since you and Bakugo were kids but Literature was such a great subject, when Mina gasps in shock.

“Wait, you and Bakugo are twins?” You looked at her quizzically and nodded, you had figured that was obvious. “Well duh Pinky, she just mentioned coming back to Japan for her second year of college, and we’re all in our second year of college” Bakugo speaks up from Kirishima’s other side, the red head rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s refusal to call their friends by their names.

While Mina is still bickering with Bakugo, Sero turns his attention to you. “So does that mean you two have the same quirk?” That caught Mina and Kaminari’s attention easily, the three looking at you eagerly. But before you could explain, your brother speaks up. “Psh, of course not, no one has a quirk as great as mine.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to them “No, While Bakugo pretty much has a perfect combination of our parent’s quirks, I take after my mom and can secrete glycerin from my skin. It’s not very flammable at low temperatures, so it’s better for like moisturizing and can help heal small burns.” The two boys nod in understanding while Mina gets excited. “Wow! So you like never have to pay for moisturizer? That’s so cool! That explains why your skin looks so great!” You smile and nod, “Its pretty nice, but I have to admit, sometimes I wish I had a more offensive quirk, I can’t really moisturize a bad guy into leaving me alone.” You chuckled light heartedly, but Kaminari could see the pain hidden in your gaze, did something happen? Before he could ask, Kirishima, having stayed mostly quiet during dinner, speaks up. “Well that’s why you have us silly. But enough of pestering (Y/N), lets watch a movie!”

Bakugo goes to set up the movie, you can hear him in the living room bickering with Mina over movies choices, while you pick up the dishes to take into the kitchen. Kaminari wordlessly helps, following you into the kitchen with dirty plates in hand. He dries as you wash, a comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. You hum softly and bump your hip into his, smiling up at him, lovesick gaze rendering him speechless. You were so pretty, and Kaminari was thinking of ways to ask you out before you spoke.

“I know I already said it earlier, but I’m really glad you came tonight. I’d really like to see you again, maybe without my brother and everyone else.” You wink before turning back to the dishes, a faint blush dusting both of your cheeks. He nods, even though you can’t see him. “I’d-uh-I’d really like that.”

You smile to yourself as you watch him dry the last dish, turning your body towards him as he places the dishtowel back oh its hook. You meet eyes, and he takes a step closer, placing a hand on the counter on either side of you, caging you. You rest a hand of his chest, slightly twisting the fabric as you bring him down to your height. “I figured we could pick up where we left off last time we were in here.” Denki smirked, eyebrow raising slightly as he looked from your eyes down to your lips, licking his own. “Oh really? I was thinking the same thing actually.” He sighs as he closes the gap between the two of you. This time you felt the slight tingle of electricity on your lips it only made you smile into the kiss, shifting your arms to wind around his neck, pulling him closer as his own hands moved onto your waist, dipping under the fabric of your shirt.  Yeah, you definitely wanted to see him again.

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Imagine Sokka and Azula getting stuck babysitting together and it being chaos.  

Azula entered the room she was instructed to by Zuko’s note and looked around. The room was empty and silent and she frowned, Zuko’s note had been so brief and panicked it just asked her to come and help Katara with something and he’d owe her a huge favour in return but the water bender wasn’t here. Azula got ready to leave when she heard voices. “Sokka I have to go but you won’t be alone okay, Zuko’s coming to help”. “Zuko? well atleast i’m not alone”. “Exactly” the voice said before opening the door. Katara was stood there a bag on her back and noticed Azula. “Azula?”. “Obviously” Azula said dryly “Zuko asked me to come and help you with something”. “He can’t make it?” Katara asked and Azula nodded “obviously”. Katara’s eye twitched and Azula sighed “he had a last minute fire lord meeting so left this note for me” “Well i’m grateful he sent someone” Katara smiled “look I really have to go but Sokka’s in there and Mai will only be a few hours at most, okay?”. Katara rushed off and Azula frowned going into the room. Sokka was stood leaning over something and Azula coughed so he’d know she was there. “Hey Zuk.....AZULA?” Sokka gaped. Azula rolled her eyes at this family’s need for announcing the obvious “duh, now why are we here? Your sister didn’t tell me”. “Ah that explains it” Sokka nodded to himself “I didn’t think Mai would want you babysitting her brother”. “DOING WHAT?” Azula cried. Sokka pointed to the basket and Azula stepped forward to see a sleeping Tom-tom. “No way am I doing this! I don’t care if Zuko will owe me a favour I am not doing this!”. “You have to I can’t do this by myself! I only agreed because Katara said I’d have help, you can’t leave me alone!” Sokka whined. “Watch me” Azula shrugged when Sokka blocked the door “I didn’t want to do this but...you’re gonna need that favour with Zuko soon”. “What? why?” Azula asked and Sokka shrugged “I’d love to tell you but why would I when you’re going to leave me here?”. “Because I can do this” Azula said lighting her hand on fire and Sokka rolled his eyes “ow yeah so you’ve resisted the urge to torch all those boring council members and idiot nobels at parties Ty Lee drags you to just to attack me and get sent back to prison? I don’t think so”. Azula rolled her eyes “so if I stay and help you will tell me what Zuko is planning for me that I need to stop?”. Sokka nodded “i promise”. “Fine” Azula sighed and Sokka grinned at how well his plan to force Azula to help had worked before he paused “wow I never thought I’d be happy you’re spending time with me, weird huh?”. “Very” Azula agreed as Tom-tom started to cry.

Sokka and Azula looked over at the basket with fear and approached it slowly. They looked in to see Tom-tom red faced and very angry as he screamed his lungs out. “I think you woke it” Sokka commented and Azula glared “me? you were the one talking so much!”. “Well it doesn’t really matter who did it the fact is it’s awake and very loud”. Azula and Sokka frowned at Tom-tom and then glanced at one another. “Very loud” Azula complained “is it meant to be that red?”. "I don’t know” Sokka shrugged staring at the baby. “Well...pick it up" Sokka nudged Azula and she glared "me why me?!". "Because well, don’t girls like babies or something". Azula’s glare intensified and Sokka realised his mistake "okay not all girls! Not all girls!" he cried as Azula squared up to him. Azula smirked as Sokka raised his hands above his head and nodded to him "and don’t you forget it, now you pick it up". Sokka cautiously approached Tom-tom and picked him up gingerly. "No not like that" Azula commented "you'll drop it". Sokka turned Tom-tom around and Azula frowned "no not like that either!". Tom-tom squirmed and cried again and Sokka panicked and thrust him into Azula. "Take it i’m losing my grip". Azula instinctively grabbed the baby and Sokka laughed pulling his hands away "ha ha your problem now". "You filthy...." Azula started when Sokka shushed her "don’t yell! It’s stopped crying". Azula halted and looked down at the thing against her and saw what Sokka said was true. Tom-tom was giggling touching the gold buttons on her shirt. "Ow..well what do i do?". "Do?" Sokka asked. "Yes how do i make it stay like this?". "Erm im not sure do whatever you’re doing now?". "But I don’t know what i’m doing now" Azula cried panicking and Tom-tom started to cry again as Azula gripped him too hard. "Well you did something right before...don’t you know this kid?". "I know Mai but I don’t hang out with her baby brother for fun too! I don’t know what he likes, aren’t you an older sibling, shouldn't you know what babies like?". Sokka frowned "no, I kept well away from Katara until she could walk so I don’t know what to do!". "Well i don’t know what to do either" Azula said raising her voice to be heard over Tom-tom’s crying. Sokka took that as a challenge and raised his voice even higher "well what are we going to do then?". “I don’t know” Azula screetched and they both glared at one another.

3 hours later

Mai pushed open the door and sighed she couldn’t wait to just get back home and relax. "Thanks for looking after Tom-tom guys" she started and stopped abruptly to see Sokka and Azula. "What are you doing?" She yelled. Sokka and Azula froze but shrugged "what?". Tom-tom was strapped to Sokka with what looked like tape and Azula was waving fire infront of the baby. The room was a mess, toys, nappys, baby food and basically all belongings thrown everywhere. Mai was speechless "what? Why is my brother strapped to you and why are you trying to burn him?". "Don't be so dramatic Mai if I wanted to burn him I could do it easily" Azula said rolling her eyes "he likes it". True to her word Tom-tom was giggling trying to reach for the flames which Azula kept out of his way. "We were doing it to make him fall asleep but i think it just excites him". Mai stared "you used fire to make him sleep?". Azula shrugged "it seemed like a good plan". Sokka nodded "yeah babies like fire right?". Mai glared and strode to them, she pulled Azula back and unstrapped Tom-tom from Sokka "and why was he strapped to you?". "He kept moving" Sokka said straight faced and Azula nodded just as seriously. "So you strapped him down?" Mai asked angrily. Sokka shrugged “what were we supposed to do? He was too quick when we put him on the floor so Azula found some tape and started sticking and he seemed to like that too! Atleast this way we couldn’t lose him”. Mai rolled her eyes “idiots! Just put him in his cot or something”. “Tried that and he cried, why do children do that it’s just awful” Azula sighed and Sokka nodded sympathetically. “I think we did pretty good aswell” Azula said defensively “neither me or water boy wanted to baby sit but he’s alive and well isn’t he”. “Barely” Mai said dryly and Sokka raised an eyebrow “hey I think Tom-tom really liked us! Right Azula?”. Azula shrugged “he did seem to warm to us, I think it was when we stopped screaming and passing him to one another”. Sokka nodded “or when we stopped calling him an it”. Azula nodded thoughtfully and Mai groaned “both of you get out now you’re banned from babysitting ever! I’ll kill Katara and Zuko for this”. “Gosh fine! We know when were not wanted” Sokka pouted and Azula nodded “no respect for anyone these days” she muttered and Mai glared slamming the door on them both. “Well that was rude and after we did it as a favour” Sokka commented and Azula nodded “I know, some people are just difficult”. Sokka nodded and it only just dawned on him who he was talking to. “You know Azula you’re not so bad” Sokka thought outloud “sure you tried to kill me a few times and you sacraficed Tom-tom that time remember? Anyway the point is the three of us got along well so there’s hope for anyone!”. Azula nodded “yes I suppose you’re not too bad for a p..” she’s been about to say peasant but saw Sokka’s face and changed it quickly “person” she finished “you’re not as annoying as the others...suprisingly” she added and Sokka smirked. “Anyway I must be going” Azula said standing up straight “so goodbye”. “Bye Azula” Sokka waved smiling and Azula tensed. It was weird having someone smile at her and say her name so happily. Weird but not bad, it actually felt nice to have...well a friend. The thought of making a friend embarssed Azula so she hurried away but she smiled slightly to Sokka as she passed. After years of thinking she was unlovable and incapable of forming natural friendships Azula couldn’t believe how easy it had been to befriend Sokka. She’d made a friend all on her alone and barely trying too! Azula grinned to herself hurrying to her room. Ty lee was going to be so impressed when she told her!  

---

So this could be interpreted as Tyzula or Sokkla because I ship both and do think Sokka and Azula would be a very good couple. I mean they’re both intelligent sarcastic tacticians with resentment towards their siblings and both had extreme pressures on them from a young age from their families (for Azula it was to be a prodogy firebender and Sokka to protect his whole tribe and become a warrior). Plus even in the series Azula recognised Sokka as a threat and in the comics they share a couple of really cute canon moments. The combination of their brain power and personalities would be the literal defenition of a power couple (just imagine them as a team for pictionary or something). Also just imagine everyone’s reaction to them announcing they’re dating, everyone expected it was Katara and Zuko who had something going on when Sokka and Azula have been together secretly for months (Zuko and Katara’s reaction alone I would pay to see!).

But even if it’s not as a couple I still think Azula and Sokka would be amazing friends too! They’re pretty similar in that they’re both stuborn which would make for very interesting interactions! Azula needs someone like Sokka that isn’t afraid to call her out on her bad behaviour but can also relate to her traumas and be there for her!  So anyway I just want more interaction between my two favourite characters thats all!! :) 

[popcorn-hero]

The Tales of the Todorokis

Acknowledging character development and writing character development is not and making excuses for ones crimes.

Disclaimer: I read, I interpret, I express. This is a long post filled with images. Also probably some horrible grammar

Apologizing: Apologizing is  acknowledging ones faults and vowing to never commit the same mistakes. What has happened has happened. Nothing can change the past or the effect it had. What you do now, does not change or erase the past, but it helps guide a path of healing for the future. It can be the start of change and morphing into a better person. BUT, only if that person truly means it.

Apologies is not making an excuse for yourself.

Forgiveness: Forgiveness can be rightfully given, or not. It can be a tricky thing to understand at times. Forgiveness doesn’t remove the pain. Forgiveness doesn’t erase the memories. But for some people, forgiveness is a key to freedom, for inner peace. For other people, forgiveness doesn’t offer them that, and that's fine too.

We are not monoliths, we are individual people, with individual brains, with individual emotions, with experiences that affects us as individuals. Our stories might overlap - they might even be identical, but how we process it may not be.

I don’t like this narrative I’ve been seeing recently in the fandom of Horikoshi being an abuse apologist. I think Horikoshi is challenging us and its working. 

The Tales of the Todoroki’s: Enji, Rei, Touya, Fuyumi, Natsuo, Shoto

6 people

6 perspectives

6 stories

1 truth

Each viewpoint and each experience from everyone is very important in putting the pieces together (yes, even Enji). In fact, I think it was important to have Enjis viewpoint to the situation because it was such a contrast to what we’ve heard and seen from everyone else. In Enjis mind, he truly thought everyone was complaisant. He saw nothing wrong with attempting to live vicariously through his kids. In the same breath he expresses contempt for this children, its also laced with disappointment

He speaks of Rei as though she was consensual, but we know he essentially used her a valuable Mare and hurt her as well.

His treatment of Rei cannot be erased, justified, or forgotten. It happened. We as the audience are suppose to carry that in our minds because we are reading a story about Heroes. This challenges us to understand that heroic actions is not what a hero makes.

There are cops who (most of them tbh) that become cops simply for the power dynamic, not because they desire to protect. A lot of cops abuse their spouse.

 Rei: We are only introduced to her through the lowest point of her life and we have no insight on how Enji acquired her (yeah that sound harsh, but isn’t that what happened) nor her domestic life with him. What we know of her are scenes of her pain, and I think thats relevant enough. She may have had some “good” moments out of her situation, but she was still a mouse trapped in a lions den. Good days do not erase her state. Thats why this panel, was so odd to me 

Because it implies that Rei was complicit in having kids even though we as the audience understand that he basically brought her for that single purpose. Now note, this is coming from Enjs mouth, not hers so I can’t sit her be like “oh yeah she was fine with everything”

To me, this is simply Enjis projection because what was Rei honestly going to do? Say no? But who’s to say that she didn’t want Touya to be lonely? Idk, that panel was too wishy washy for me.

Moving on

She replies to Natsuo by saying that's not true

Its not in his defense like how Natsuo claimed. Rei never states that she forgives him, and we can see she is still on her journey of healing when she mentions shes still a bit scared of him. However, she acknowledges his acts as stepping stone for his own path of atonement.

If she does come to forgive him later in the story, thats her decision (Horikoshi actually lol). If she doesn’t, that her decision. 

Natsuo: 

The only insight from Natsuo is his resentment towards his father with what happened to Touya and the hurt of their mother. It is revealed later that Natsuo was Touya confidant in the house (I’ll get into that when I talk about Touya).

But He doesn’t forgive him....or hes not at that stage yet

When endeavor saves him from the villain, we are able to see Natsuos raw thoughts:

He’s conflicted: He wants to maintain the peace, but he can’t deny how he feels.

Natsuo felt like he had to compromise his feelings, and that shouldn’t be fair. Even thought he is the middle child, I feel like he took on the presence of the big brother and wanted to protect his siblings. But when you have a man like Enji as your father and you know how he is.....standing up to him as a child is terrifying

So when Enji says this

I’m like: DUH! Of course he would feel like that

But I’m taking this scene has Enji recognizing how he made Natsuo feel as a child which showcases. he owns up to the fact that he pushed Touya to the edge.

Yet with all that said, hes not suppose to forget. Hes not suppose to suppress how he feels. And even at his age, that child inside him still hurt and was never offered a chance to properly heal. I know what that feels like.

Natsuo must figure out what he needs to do to find peace - however that may be.

Fuyumi :

We don’t have much insight to Fuyumi and I’m sure  her experience is completely different from her brothers. One, because she was a girl and Enji is misogynistic, I doubt he gave her any type of attention as a father figure especially since she only inherited her moms quirk. I don’t recall  signs of physically abuse on Fuyumi and (Natsuo), but there probably was demeaning behavior at some point. Just being in that environment and seeing their sibling subjected to that, negatively impact her however 

But with Fuyumi, she is trying to move on

I think Fuyumi is on her path of forgiving her father -  thats her choice to make to find peace for her experience.  After expressing her desire  to move on as a family, she ask Shoto how he feels....

Oh my sweet prince Shoto: 

Shoto has a lot of baggage and being one of the main protagonist, we get a more in depth experience on his relationship with is father. I’m not going to go into too much detail because we all know he detested his father. I’m mainly going to focus on this middle ground that I find him at.

In the panels above he mentions having grudges and how it clouds the mind. Thats a toxic feeling to carry with you, especially when you’re trying to be a hero. He recognized that, and he’s been working on fixing that. Even his mother had to forgive herself towards what she did to him.

Shoto is not here to forgive Enji, hes here to forgive himself

What I mean by that is the fact that Shoto experienced self-hate. He hated a part of who was, how he looked, where he came from.  He had no control of his childhood, but he now has control of his future. At the sports festival, that was Shotos first step towards finding his healing. It wasn’t about Enji apologizing to him. It was about him.

And now look at him, he’s more social, more expressive, more powerful once he began to love himself. He got there on his own and with the support of his friends.

It doesn’t change what happened to him, and it doesn’t erase his feelings However, it gave him control over himself.

This is almost the same position Natsuo is in. He hasn’t seen anything (yet) for himself that warrants him to forgive his father. Maybe we will see it in these later chapters... maybe we wont.

Thats his decision

And last: Touya

Touya, touya, touya touya......

I honestly don’t know how to tackle his situation, but shoot me

From this memory (by Enji), Touya appears...enthusiastic. He appeared that he wanted to train with his father. 

And I think this is where things went wrong in his rearing. He was GROOMED .

Enji, being who he was, probably placed the ideas in Touya head of great success, importance, power, fame, ect. These things sound good to a child, and being the only child at the time, he had all his fathers attention. But as he got older and his quirk became incompatible, things started change.

Even before his quirk no longer became compatible for him, Enji still didn't see Touya as his ideal child, but he accepted it. Touya looks to be about 6 here meaning Shoto wasnt born yet or an infant.

 Going by the ages given for Shoto, Fuyumi, and Natsuo I’m going to state that 

Touya was 13 when he staged his death

Fuyumi was 11, Natsuo was 8, and Shoto was 5 and thats when we are introduced into in abuse.

So there is a 8 year window between Touya shift in his relationship with his father and the start of Shoto gaining his quirk.

That is a missing puzzle piece, and I can only speculate what happened in that time period to drive Touya to his mental breaking point and what his father did or, didn’t do for him.

Here, there is more white in his hair and he looks to be maybe 10? And this is when he starts to question his existence.

I can’t say all that Touya went through from the time Shoto was born to his faked death. 

I think Touya suffered from feeling abandoned by his father father, the feelings of being a failure because of these ideals of greatness only to be sideline. That he was just a placeholder like the rest of his sibling and not worthy to work along his fathers side.

I don’t think he faced the same treatment from his father as Shoto did.  I think he became blinded by approval and pushed himself to his limits to compete for Enji attention, He probably developed depression, anxiety, and a lot stressors as he became more and more incompatible with his quirk

And I think thats why there is the hate for Shoto because he feels like he took away his purpose ( which has nothing to do with Shoto but everything to do with Enjis grooming)

We know Touya is absolutely not on the scale of ever forgiving his father for what he did. For him to sit there and watch his father on TV and proclaim to be a hero when he knew what went on behind closed doors, it can drive him towards wanting to retaliate. 

His story showcases damages of a broken child. Where Shouto found liberation, Touya remained bound to the ambers Enji left on his worth and lies on being a hero.

Not everything can be fixed, and once a crack forms, it will continue to spread until it shatters.

In conclusion

The Tale of The Todorokis is not to serve as excusing abuse. Its a showcase of how 1 man can affect the lives of many people in different ways. It is a tale of moving forward, finding peace, and gaining control over your own person. 

Enji knows he can’t snap his figures and all will be well.  Though I think some actions he could have done was to take it upon himself to address the country, come clean,  and maybe retire as a hero, but he’s not a perfect character.

But I’ll take what I can get. Enji knows his place, he knows what he has done.

Happiness to his family is absence

Its there space

And there nothing more better he can do than that.