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hypnagogics · 5 months ago

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heh.. okay, so you asked for different.. rubs hands together villaniously as i materialize from the bottomless shadows..

sub!vampire!ellie biting/bloodsucking denial.. reminding her how much of a good girl she needs to be even when your wrist is practically just brushing past her lips to cradle her face.. or when the weakest bead of blood is pricked from your finger.. flaunting it.. teasing.. goddess bless throw in whatever else you see fit freakmaster

TEMPTATION WAITS

before you read! ▪︎ my masterlist ☆: co-president...this is absolutely divine...shoulda seen the way i dropped everything for this im literally #TWEAKING. new fav thing i've ever written methinks. title song. (vibes aren't there but the title was too good.) ps: if you spot any typos i wrote this with one hand. KIDDING...or am i? divider creds—cafekitsune. ◇: not outright smut, but still suggestive!! and nsfw is described. fluffy end bc i think she earned it, lore sprinkled in because why nawt it's interesting, finger sucking (e! receiving), this is maybe a lil ooc idrc, she's described as looking quite ill in her vampiric form + begs like her century long life depends on it fr, (but also has a bit of an attitude, it issss ellie after all), mean!r, talk of blood/previous bite wounds. ++ 3.3k wc. doesn't need to be that long but atp? take it or leave it LOLL. filing under "oneshots" bc it's way more than usual reqs hehe.

“Please, baby. Just one taste. I'll do anything.” Desperate, shaky pleas spilled from Ellie, her voice noticeably tired from the effort. She's been at this for what felt like forever now, and you were getting tired of ignoring her. Or rather, a little bored.

She was kneeling on the wooden floor by your bed, fisting the creased sheets, trying to capture your attention. The shimmering moonlight was dancing on her features as if it was a sparkle of fireflies, making her oddly colored eyes appear to glow, and highlighting her sickly appearance.

In her vampiric form, her skin was tinted a ghostly—even chalky—white, barely a smidgen of blush dancing on the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes shifted from their original grassy green to a peculiar duochrome blend of emerald and ruby. She really looked unwell, but you knew it was merely a product of circumstance, her gloomy fate.

Ellie donned somber dark circles around her eyes, her lips withered, pale, and thin as a piece of tissue paper. Just behind them though, rested two deadly weapons of her very own—sizeable, razor-sharp, gleaming ivory canines reflecting the scarce lighting as if they were made of mirrored glass.

For the first time tonight, you met her gaze, assuming an unbreakable poker face. Her keen sight could pick out the most subtle of twitches, so you learned to defeat that. The moment you met her line of sight she perked up, her eyes widening in glee, you had finally acknowledged her existence after so long.

Scooting forward you placed yourself right in front of her still kneeling form, sitting so she was in between your legs, but she wasn't allowed to touch you until you said so. What torture.

She began again, “Can I do something to make you change your mind? I'll do anything. Anything in the world. I'll make you feel re-really good, and then I won't ask again…ever even, if that's what you want. Just please let me…I'm so thirsty.” She was rambling a million miles a minute, slurring her words and cutting herself off with hiccups, stuttering like was having a nervous breakdown.

Her chest heaving up and down was visible to you despite the dim surroundings, and you could just make out her facial expression—a pained grimace, as if she was experiencing all of humanity's greatest suffering. When you didn't reply but stayed observing her blankly, she sighed and hung her head in shame, you almost felt bad. Almost.

You extend a hand, twirling a strand of her hair—previously silky and vibrant, now as lifeless and dull as charred hay—and you feel her relax under your touch. You continue raking your fingers through her locks, scratching her scalp with your nails, and you hear her exhale forcefully. She's likely overwhelmed by your scent—it's invigorating, fresh, and full of life.

“Have you been good?” You pipe up with a voice colder than ice, softly caressing the flesh of her tense cheek, and letting your fingertips travel to the underside of her chin. You gently tilt her head up, noticing the way her eyelids flutter to a close. She's soaking up the heat radiating off of you, making sure to feel the sensations of your skin brush against hers as much as she can, commit them to memory for when she's apart from you.

Her lips part, allowing for hushed, woeful whimpers to pour out, and she instinctively bites her bottom lip to quiet herself. Only she forgets about the powerful daggers in her mouth, and almost pierces right through her own skin.

Taking notice, you tut at her, warning clicks of your tongue bouncing off the room’s walls, contrasting the dead of night’s eerie silence. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You push the pad of your thumb down on the plush of her lip, angling her jaw side to side, examining those killer gnashers she's got.

“You could hurt yourself with these y'know, be careful.” Her eyelids flicker open, she's staring up at you with the biggest doe eyes she could muster, somehow all while maintaining such a strong glare you feel as if she's trying to challenge you.

“I'll decide if you can have some, as long as you're good, and you let me have some fun first. Alright?” You explain in a neutral tone, earning a cute “mhm” of confirmation from the undead being before you. “Good girl.”

You slowly slip your thumb into her mouth, avoiding her fangs at all costs, and you let her wrap her slippery tongue around your digit, watching how her cheeks hollow and her eyes roll ever so slightly while she sucks, moaning as she takes in your taste—nothing more than just skin.

You chuckle at her desperation, revel in the power dynamic you have created. “Mmm, you taste so good, so sweet.” She mumbles, swirling her tongue around your thumb, coating the entirety of it in her spit. You allow it for now, but soon enough, to no surprise, she slyly tries to shift to the side in preparation to slice you and get her treat.

You sharply retract your hands from her, removing your finger from her mouth with a pop, disappointed by her greed, her audacity. She turns to the side and pouts, huffing and rolling her eyes with more attitude than a moody teen. “What did I say?” You calmly hiss at her. She whispers, almost inaudibly, “Sorry…taste so good, can't help m’self.” Her voice wavered, and the moonlight illuminated the faintest tinge of red across her features, it was nearly invisible.

But you could tell exactly what was up. She shifts uncomfortably in her spot, grunting with laughable, pitiful attempts to rub her thighs together, fingers toying with the cloth of her pants, putting her frustration on full display. You looked at her struggle, unable to contain your grin.

It was a different kind of high, seeing such a feared and fabled beast kneel before you in such a pathetic manner, but it turned you on like nothing else. It was also evident she enjoyed it as well, no matter how much she didn't want you to be aware of the fact. The extent to which she worships you and handles your body, the way she was willing to beg and let you order her around showed just how much you meant to her—it was beautiful in its own way, how devoted she was to you. You were her person.

The fact she couldn't stifle her desire anymore after all this time suggested a shift in the atmosphere of your wicked games, the tension in the air was getting impossibly thicker, and you were loving every second of it.

Ellie, you've got a short memory.” You tease, then gesture to the gauze wrapped around your forearm, protecting two puncture wounds left by none other than her just the previous night. She looks at it and cocks an eyebrow, grouching, “Yeah, I see that, what about it?” The husky edge to her voice had returned, the defiant attitude you loved to crack was back in full force.

“Hundreds of years old, you even have memories of wars, and you can't remember what happened, like, 24 hours ago? Wow…” Your voice is so patronizing, it's unpleasant and abrasive on the ears, even your own. She shrugs her shoulders, still kneeling on the cold, hard ground at your mercy. “Well let's have a refresher then, shall we?” Tearing the tan-colored bandage apart with a single rip, you reveal the puncture marks—they were still wet and irritated, the wounds reopening immediately at the slightest movement.

Ellie whines like an animal, a crude “ahh”, and she starts pleading harder than ever. “Please, baby, my pretty, my angel, please, please, pleasepleaseplease, just lemme have a drop, just one. That's all, I swear.” Her gaze darkens exponentially, if you didn't know her it would instill fear in your heart, but luckily you were well aware of all her tricks. She snarls, “Fuck you. I'm literally on my fucking knees right now. Why are you doing this?” Her voice breaks angrily, wobbling with great lust and need—the need to have you, the need to drink you and fondle you and taste you in all senses of the word, and at this point she didn't seem to care about preserving a morsel of her dignity, she was simply so drunk on you, you couldn't believe.

You reiterate the previously established explanation, “We have an agreement that says you're allowed to take my blood once a month, so you can have some more each time. Rather than taking a little bit but more often, you requested this yourself. And you already drank lots yesterday. Does that not ring a bell?”

She groans, a gravelly, guttural sound that had you coming back to your senses and realizing, this was technically, a monster who you loved so dearly.

It led you to wonder—to her kind, what was so special about the liquid coursing through your veins?

When you split your lip open as a kid, clumsily tumbling face-first onto the asphalt, or bit your tongue while eating something stubborn, the strange, metallic taste was purely disgusting. It had a certain heaviness to it, both physically with the way it sat in your mouth, but also mentally. Like a subconscious awareness you were not meant to consume it like she does, but to spit it out the millisecond it made contact with your taste buds. There were times where the thought made you queasy, the measly knowledge of just how much of this fluid was inside you, keeping you alive.

But to her, it was a completely different story. She lapped it up with such fervor, such thirst you've never seen before. A sloppy frenzy like there wasn't a single thing more delightfully flavorful.

Her teeth penetrating all the way through your epidermis, dermis, and hypodermis, and straight through the vein wall was a feeling you're likely never going to get used to. It stung, it really did, and you were quick to get all woozy from the blood volume loss, but Ellie knew your limits—even though hers were not even close. Her thirst was insatiable.

The intimacy of the act was a whole separate topic to think about too. It was such an erotic experience, and when probed about it she argues it's better than sex, somehow. When she drinks from you, Ellie is really messy with it, you noticed. Blood dribbles down her chin and stains her lips as if it's a designer lip oil, the distinct deep maroon color sometimes appearing clownish and too intense against her fair complexion.

She was really handsy as well, and you weren't sure if it was purposeful, but you didn't care to ask because you didn't really mind in the first place. It felt nice. Her muscular hands tend to trace your waist as she's suckling, hovering by your ass, and traveling north to knead the supple tissue of your breasts.

And how could you forget about the sheer proximity of it all, even when having sex normally, it didn't feel nearly as intimate or vulnerable as this. Her body would be tightly curled around yours, she couldn't bear to have one meager square inch of her not touching you.

When she drank from your neck, it was bordering on heavenly, you had to be honest with yourself. There was something about the combination of the light headed, dizzying feeling it brought you, her closeness, the licking sensations, and the hungry sounds she produced that all together mixed to form nothing short of a mind blowing, intoxicating concoction.

When you both were feeling it, she'd be able to draw breathy moans to fall from your lips, and would giggle into your skin before sucking harder, leaving bruised marks surrounding the punctures. You read in some folklore that vampires carried a sort of aphrodisiac in their fangs, or was it their saliva? Again, you didn't really know all the details, but the sessions made you both yearn for each other in a way that felt taboo to discuss—midnight feedings often turning into animalistic fucking, sometimes even simultaneously.

Like having Ellie latched onto the side of your neck while she grinds her dripping pussy onto yours, her pleasureful mewls filling your ears, or having her hold your wrist to her mouth while her other hand is pleasuring you into oblivion, prodding against your spongy walls, making your head spin.

The time you spent lost in thought, she had broken the rule of not touching you unless you said so, but all she had done was rest her head on your knee, zoning out, sulking like an injured puppy. Unfortunately for her, you weren't done torturing her just yet. You didn't move her off of you, she was just laying there, grumbling curses under her breath, saying how mean you were, how much she despised you and everything you stood for, although both of you knew the truth—she had said herself, “I've never tasted blood like yours,” and you felt intrinsically bound to her on a subconscious level, these were mere amusements you indulged in, that ended up beneficial for both.

She got her delicious elixir of life, at the cost of you having your way with her for a bit. You hear her sniffle, the little defenseless sound of defeat was able to break your act.

You resume stroking her hair, and she wraps trembling arms around your thigh. “Hmm?” You coo, putting on a sweet facade. “Don't talk to me like that, c'mon man.” She wails, the attempts to regain control over her voice proving unsuccessful.

You took your nails to the newly formed raspberry scabs on top of your bite wounds and picked them off, and she lunges to grab your arm with inhuman reflexes, but once again you emerge on top, having spent so much time memorizing every last one of her behavioral patterns, so much so you knew exactly how she was going to attempt catching you and moved out the way without thinking about it.

“Too slow, you've gotten predictable.” You ridicule her, embellishing your voice with the most fake, sickly sweet tone you could just to irritate her as much as you possibly could. Ellie lays her head on your thigh, sighing. It's like she's given everything up. Her own patience was running out, potentially entering unpredictable territory now.

You squeeze the sides of the hole in your skin to coax a bubble of bright red blood to ooze out, marveling, “It's such a nice color, I see why you like it so much.” You talk to her coolly, ignoring her tearful, yet terrifyingly rage-filled glares, her massive fangs bared as if you were a prey animal she caught herself and was preparing to rip apart.

“Want a taste, Ellie? Have you earned it?” You think out loud, comically tapping your chin to exaggerate the brainstorming act. “Whatever, it's not like I have anything left to say to you.” She sounded heartbroken, you've never seen someone have such sorrow, the sheer misery behind her eyes actually caught you off guard.

"Okay I think you have earned it, just need you to say one more thing.” She nods, a little too quickly, rushing to catch any tears that were planning an escape route down the sides of her pretty face. You cradle her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin, “Aw, baby, don't cry.” This time however, your tone is sincere.

She doesn't wait for your request, and starts all over again, this is getting old. “I promise everything. I'll make you feel so good, I'll give you whatever you want, please …you're too sweet.” She huffs, “Well, except when you're not.”

She continues mumbling, burying her face in the meat of your thigh, occasionally stopping to lovingly peck where she was laying, quiet smooching sounds. That really melted your heart, you were ready to give her what she needs after so much cruelty. This went on much longer than you had planned, but you were having fun with it. So you decided to abandon whatever you would ask of her. But could anyone blame you?

She slowly reaches for your wounded arm, gauging your reactions, like in the situation you were planning to do something to prevent her, but you come up with a better idea. “I'll do you one even better, Els.” The grin that envelops her face could light up a thousand suns, and melt the coldest of souls. Make vampire hunters quit their careers even, that's how adorable she could be, on the occasion.

You lean back to take your shirt off in one swift motion, and lay back on the edge of the bed, tilting your neck to give her access to the sweet pulsating spot, finding the droplet of drool that falls from her agape mouth utterly hilarious. “Go ahead, I've had my fun.” She hesitates. “But our agreement, I don't wanna hurt you.” “Ellie it's fine, unless you don't want t-” “No I do I do, oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so muchhhh.”

Her gratitude is silly, she's straddling you and kissing all over your neck, face, and collarbones with such care, and you inhale sharply once you feel the familiar sensation of her teeth piercing your sensitive skin.

She has one hand on the nape of your neck, holding you close to her so you couldn't move away, and the other one finds your fingers to intertwine with hers, loud gulping noises filling the room as she messily laps up all that flows from you.

Her bony hips are sat atop your pelvis, and soon enough you feel her start absentmindedly rocking back and forth on you, your breath hitching. You hold her waist to ground yourself, and aid her. She's whispering, mostly to herself, “Fuck that's so fucking good, needed this so bad, need you, fuck- shit. Ah, yes.”

The vertiginous feeling swirls in your head and you feel yourself fading, your grip on her sides loosening, but you don't feel one single ounce of panic, because you know she's got you. No matter what, until the end of time. Or at the very least, until the final bells tolled and you were lowered to your eternal resting place six feet underground.

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lovlidollie · 13 days ago

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i love whimsy!reader soso much… i was wondering if rafe joins in on making tea blends or perfumes w her or jus hovers over her making sure she doesnt make a mess? also i would love to read whimsey!reader making him some sort of cologne unprompted nd his reaction cause we all know this boy is feining for some attention and praise….

hello lovely nonnie thank u so much for this !!! not proofread so pls ignore typos c:

i think in the beginning he’d try to, kind of like it being his way of wooing her or impressing her. whimsy would think it’s just sooo sweet that he’s willing to do something that she loves so much, and would just give him free rein to do whatever he wants. the issue arises when it becomes glaringly obvious that he’s actually shit at choosing notes and complementary scents. his candles end up smelling like bog water and the mini perfumes he make seem to evaporate before they’re even on skin.

i think there’d be a similar issue with tea, starting with the fact that this man simply does not drink tea in the first place. i feel like he’s more of a coffee guy as it is, so green/black tea just never sounded appetising. HOWEVER. i think he falls in love with whimsy’s chai. like it’s got that milky element that he likes, it’s got the caffiene, and it just tastes that fucking good. his favourite would be her version of kashmiri chai; the little boy in him feels emasculated over ever enjoying a pink drink, but his tastebuds win him over everytime he takes a sip.

now whenever she is actively making her lil potions, rafe hovers. he’s a hover-er. he watches everything like a hawk; making sure her hands don’t get too close to any open flames, moving any jars she’d precariously left near the corners of her table. he’d always be reminding her to wear her gloves and apron and has that ‘disappointed dad’ expression whenever she accidentally burns herself whilst making candles. with the perfumes, he can’t stand to be in the room for too long, all the fumes and smells giving him a headache. he’s always asking whimsy how she can even survive in there, then realises he needs to start taking her out for fresh air whenever she becomes too absorbed; he wonders if the gases have had some sort of effect on her.. bc it would for one explain her ‘weirdness’.

he’s very good at collecting all her dried flowers though ^_^ i think his favourite thing to do is bag all the rose petals and organise her drawer of tea blends. he’d surprise her with expensive tea plants that he’d especially gotten imported just for her </3

if she were to gift him with a cologne out of nowhere, he’d literally be speechless. so that’s why he wasn’t allowed in her studio (he was like a lost puppy just sitting outside her door begging to be let in). she’d be like “just wanted to give my sun a little stardust. i tried to make it smell like things that remind me of you.” it’s literally the most thoughtful gift anyone’s ever gotten him, and his heart stutters painfully when she reveals it’s called ‘ray.’ a perfume for him, under her nickname for him. (you just know she got it good that night….)

you can bet your ass he’s going around shoving it under everyone’s noses. “look what m’girl made me. yeah, she’s reaaal talented, she’s uh — she’s good at what she does. n-no. no, she doesn’t take requests, the fuck…”

#went a bit overboard with this…#whimsy!reader #rafe x whimsy!reader #rafe cameron #rafe #rafe fluff #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe blurb #rafe prompt #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks #outer banks blurb #outerbanks x reader #obx #obx blurb #obx x reader #꩜ .ᐟ anon

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coffin-upalung · 1 year ago

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Vent post, TW mental illness, hospitalization, being fucking poor, speculation of symptoms

So I have a problem with disorganized speech, right? I kind of noticed it a few months ago but now it's impossibly to ignore. Or I'll just stop talking when i thought i already made my point but i actually only said half a sentence? I don't have health care, so I can't figure out right now if it's a mental illness symptom or a physical illness symptom, both of which I have several diagnosed.

But I also developed a stutter? Which makes me think it's gotta be mental illness. But also I've had like a good 10 concussions in my life, 4 of them were in 2019, so maybe just got a bruised melon.

And I've found myself fencesitting between reality and delusion. And I've caught myself hallucinating. Birds, music, people taking muffled outside my window where I can't make out any of the words, bugs in my food and spiders in my shower.

And I want so fucking bad to just voluntarily admit myself. I'm not a DANGER to myself, but I just can't function. I can't hold down a job, I spiral and bounce between panic attacks to disassociation. I feel fractured, like multiple people are living my life, like half the day is a dream or I'm in the passenger seat of my life.

I've been on antipsychotics since I was like 13 or 14, but I haven't had healthcare in years. And I just want to take a month or two and admit myself to get everything fixed. And it sucks that for YEARS I was repeatedly 5150'd and got thrown in residential for 4 months as a kid against my will but now I actually want the help and I can't AFFORD IT?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Like I'm not suicidal in the slightest. My husband and I are happy and living a good life, we never fight and it genuinely feels like a sleepover with my best friend every night-- depression is near non-existant. But I just want to not be crazy anymore so I can take a shower without thinking I can talk to the ghosts in the walls!!!!!

I literally just want the hallucinations to stop and the delusions and the rabbit holing to stop. I want to be able to think straight and speak clearly. I want to stop having episodes where I'm laughing and crying and pulling my hair out. And it's for no reason. The trigger will be like "thought about that one embarrassing thing you said" and I just can't breathe and then I'm gone. Like it's someone else and I can't think and then like I'm in the shower and I've calmed down and im singing to music that's playing on my phone.

Like how am I supposed to tackle this in weekly therapy. It's gotten bad enough I'm BEGGING to go back on meds.

Do you know how long this fucking took me to write? I feel so small and incapable of simple tasks like writing a paragraph-- things I used to do for fun with fanfiction and random essays on topics I'll never post. But I keep misspelling and starting with one sentence and writing the ending of another. I kept misspelling symptoms as mysomptms and that's the clearest example of how jumbled things get. Like everything is there it's just a mess. It's not like a typo, it's genuinely my brain tells me every letter at once and I can't remember what comes first. I'll tell a story about my day and I'll tell the middle then the first then the last, or in reverse and I know it's mixed up but I can't remember what came first. And my grammar is so absolutely fucked. Like I almost majored in English and my essays were the ONLY reason I got into some colleges because I absolutely bombed my SATs because I had just gotten out of the hospital. Not my point, but demonstrates that I used to have such a tight grasp of the English language and its mechanics and now for months it's felt like I'm struggling in a 3rd or 4th language, buffering and lagging like a 2006 Dell.

And im AWARE that none of this makes sense, I've got pinball brain and im trying to say too much with too few words but this is an exercise to at least push through and get as much as I can out. At least to document. I feel like I have to apologize for how hard it is to understand me. This feels like such a burden to everyone around me and that makes it harder to think and speak. I hate this and I just want to get better.

Idk just had to get this out, hopefully I'll be able tks how a doctor when I'm able to get help. This makes me feel so stupid. I can fucking write, I'm an articulate fucking human being. I've got so much going for me, why does my first language feel like I'm only conversational? I can't communicate, I've lost half my vocabulary and I used to pride myself on my intelligence. I was always the smart friend, the one who's good at everything and would write your papers and give advice and I was going to do great things. And now I'm just a college dropout lunatic housewife that needs help with everything.

And im not... sad? It's just anxiety and then a detachment of reality. And I've tried to write this more like I would say it, it feels like either my brain goes too fast for my mouth or fingers or that it's so slow I cant think there is no in-between.

#do not reblog #vent post #not all triggers tagged

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moemoemammon · 3 years ago

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Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now!

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven.

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

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laceymorganwrites · 2 years ago

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hq boys and how they text

A/N: this is a fun little mini collab with @miyaniacs that started out as me commenting: omg xy emoji reminds me of Bo. And then we just kept making hcs so...have those xD

Bokuto:

frequently used emojis: 💪🤩🥺👉👈😼🤣😥😲😭🥴😵🤠🤓🦄✨🙉🎉🐓👀😤

ALWAYS TEXTS IN ALL CAPS

doesthisannoyingthingtoo

always does typos cause he´s wayyy too excited

and when he does the * he still gets it wrong

will send 10 minute long audios talking about nothing

also will keep every group chat updated about his day, checks in on everyone every 5 minutes

also in way too many group chats but too scared to leave them cause he doesn´t want ppl thinking he´s rude

Atsumu:

emojis: 💔💦💯🔥😎😥🥵🤫🥴🤙👅❤☕

texts ppl who are like 5 feet away from him to get him something (poor Osamu)

always gets left on read

then double texts like

hello?🥺

r u mad at me?

flirts way too much but in a really direct way

is blocked by so many girls

he loves calling people and will annoy anyone when he´s bored

Tendou:

emojis: 👨‍🦯🦶👂✌🤘🥰😇🤠🙊✈🌜💁‍♂️🙆‍♂️🤦‍♂️🏃‍♂️😣😙

sends too many selfies

it´s like he´s vlogging cause he´s constantly sending pics to the gc

has a bunch of rps going on and he´s super good at them (actually has good and interesting ocs)

sometimes speaks uwu just to annoy people

randomly quotes anime

sends videos of himself talking rather than making audios

makes such cute faces too

sigh, I love this man

Suna:

emojis:🤗🙄😬🤦‍♀️💅👁👄👁🤧🤰😈💀😾

this man is on his damn phone too much

yet never texts back

will literally take up to 3 weeks to reply

is on discord a lot and just trolls people

has the do not disturb thingie

only texts 3 ppl (Kita, Osamu, Aran)

has Atsumu blocked

the type of guy to have a drama channel

Oikawa

always on his phone

texts

this

his gallery is rlly neat

has an album for everything and way too many photos

has an album just for receipts of drama he thought would be more important than it rlly is

ootd pics to the gc

expects all the compliments

gets: u still ugly

KING OF FACE TIME

🥰😘😫🥺🥱🤗👽👄✨🔥🌶💖🧘‍♀️🖖👉👈☕

Sakusa

short answers

uses punctuation

has all gcs muted

only texts in there to roast Atsumu

leaves ppl on read all the time

except for Komori

sooo many unopened chats

only emojis are: ❤ and :) also 🙄

Tsukki

sassy all the way

only reads messages when they´re important

otherwise he just ignores it

🤦‍♀️💅😍🤢😉🙄👁👁🤷‍♀️

involuntarily is in a gc with Kuroo and Bokuto

has a secret meme chat with Akaashi and Yamaguchi

picks up on too much gossip amd doesn´t even wanna know about it

Ushijima

had Tendou explain his phone to him

texts Oikawa at least once, showing him a picture of Shiratorizawa being like: this could´ve been you

is blocked now

does this thing where he overuses autocorrect and types the emoji instead of the word

🤠🍆 otherwise he rlly doesn´t use any

Filth stuff under the cut:

Bokuto

accidentally really good at sexting

doesn´t know what he´s doing but it works

keeps complimenting and praising you

has issues taking dick pics cause he can never get the right angle

always begs to have phone sex cause he gets too excited

wants to be on facetime with you all the time

okay but how can someone be so beautiful when they cum? and his moans are feral, will just stare at you all hazed

talks a lot during everything, just tells you how amazing it feels at all times

Atsumu

thinks he´s good at sexting

but tries too hard

legit just fuckboy energy

but we all know he´s just a sweet soft boy who wants to know if his dick if pretty cause he´s insecure abt it

texting game isn´t strong

BUT HIS PICTURE GAME 👀👀👀

would actually ace it once he had sex since his texting game would just....oof it´s so good

also not as awkward anymore

Tendou

sexting with him is so much fun

it´s super chill and lighthearted

tells you how good you make him feel

if you ever have phone sex he will moan just for you (usually he doesn´t cause he doesn´t see the point in it)

somehow it feels more intense with you watching him and touching yourself to him

gets his confidence (and dick) up

would be up to try everything with you, just gets so excited abt you overall

Suna

he WILL leave during a session to make food or smth

one time he forgot about you and just went back to gaming

kind of lackluster at times

you really have to initiate the convo

but he makes up for it with nice pics and vids

has a really pretty dick

somehow he takes really good pictures but without any effort

would do it on facetime and let me tell you:

prettiest moans

intense af eyes

THAT FUCKING SMIRK WHEN U CUM FOR HIM

Oikawa

never really shows his dick

partly because of bad experiences and cause of insecurities

makes you feel things by just his words

actually will either smirk like the little bitch he is or have a super cute soft smile on his face

probs has his phone in his one hand and is throwing a volleyball up and down in the other

sooo many adjectives to describe exactly what he´ll do to you

Sakusa

sends a pic of him in only sweats, hand on his cock and tells u to come over

or a random: I need to feel your mouth around me

´why do you want me to send a picture of my hand?´

can get really filthy, taking you by surprise

call him sir and watch him flip the switch

when he´s comfortable enough with you he will tell you all his dirty secrets

Tsukki

phone sex

teases you about being horny and needy

then supresses his own moans

makes you tell him what you want him to do

maybe he´ll reward you with a picture

never starts anything since he doesn´t wanna seem needy

but every time you sext or have phone sex he´s like super petty at first

being all like: aww you just can´t get enough of me~ what took you so long this time?

Ushijima

straight up dick pics or his abs/veiny arms

would send you pics after/while he works out and turns you on without intending to

accidentally leaves you on read after you call him out for it

kinda internal panic because...we all know this man is awkward asf

so you have to guide him through, tell him what you want him to do and what you wanna do to him

is kinda embarrassed the first few times, but slowly enjoys it more and more

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu writing #haikyuu reader insert #hq #hq writing #hq reader insert #hq imagines #hq hcs #hq headcanons

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anemo-writes · 4 years ago

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hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)

much love,

~ anemo-chan <3

(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)

super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.

Diluc

He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!

Lisa

She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,

Tartaglia

Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.

Zhongli

Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?

surprises you with homemade sweets.

Fischl

Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.

Ganyu

Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.

Keqing

Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.

Mona

Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)

Noelle

One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!

Xiangling

The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?

buys/makes a present for you.

Albedo

Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.

Amber

Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.

Barbara

Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.

Chongyun

He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.

Ningguang

She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)

Razor

He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.

Sucrose

At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)

whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.

Beidou

It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)

Bennett

He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)

Kaeya

He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!

Venti

You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)

Xingqiu

While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—

doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Jean

Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.

Xiao

“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)

#anemo-writes #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #THE WAY THIS IS A DAY LATE #can you tell that i’ve never written for zhongli before :’)#bennett’s is my favorite i almost cried while writing it because it was so wholesome #diluc x reader #Childe x reader #zhongli x reader #chongyun x reader #razor x reader

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just-some-random-blogger · 4 years ago

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Death By Bagel

NCT Culinary Student!Mark Lee x Fashion Design Student!Reader Summary: Mark makes a cake cause he's realized he can't lose you to some f-boy. Word Count: 3k+ Warnings: Fluff, childhood au, college au, slowish burn, slight cursing, reallllly fluffy, some broksi-dude action, typos sksksksks, etc.

R E Q U E S T my friend: mark lee, slow burn, friends to lovers

A/N: I wrote a fic that already had like 1k+ word then I LOST IT (i think i deleted it) thus this. It took me 10 years to write this msmsmkskskks. PLEASE TUMBLR IS MESSING WITH ME AND MIXED UP THE ORDER OF SOME OF THE DIALOGUE

“As a doctor, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Mark says, not even bothering to look at his patient seated rudely on the floor. Oop, he’s lying down now.

Mark huffs and looks up from the clay block he was molding on his tray, “YOU’RE SO UNPROFESSIONAL!”

Mark’s mother nearly spits out her coffee upon hearing the words of his five-year-old son. Her husband snorts, “He got that from you.”

The woman throws a look at the man and was supposed to give a snarky retort, up until the sound of the doorbell ringing. She grins from ear-to-ear and dashes to get the door.

When she comes back to the living room, she’s accompanies by another woman and a tiny version of her.

“Markie! Say hello to your Auntie!” Mark’s mom calls.

Mark from the carpeted floor looks up and blinks, examining the stranger-woman and its human-ling. Mark turns to his father who was sat on the couch and receives a nod of approval almost. Mark purses his lips and waves at the woman.

The woman waves back and then crouches down to the little girl, “Baby, say hello to Mark.”

Unwilling, she shakes her head.

“Aw come on, baby. Don’t be shy. Mark over there is a really sweet boy. I knew him when he was in his mommy’s tummy, just like Mark’s mom knew you when you were in mine. You’re the same age so you’ll get along just fine.”

With the unnecessary explanation that gave no justification to the scene whatsoever out of the way, the girl was fooled into peeping up, “Hi, Mark.”

“Hello,” Mark says, not particularly interested, as his patient was still in the midst of dying in his office. He turned to his stuffed toy called Mr. Lion and attempted to stand him up once more.

At this point, the girl makes her way to Mark.

“We’ll be back in two hours, honey. Keep an eye on the children,” Mrs. Lee tells his husband who had been occupied with TV the entire time.

“Yeah. I got this,” he smiles to his wife then goes back to watching.

The bumble bee clad figure sat down to Mark in blue and watched him play.

Mark ignored her for a few seconds, needing to assert all efforts on standing that dumb toy up. Once successful, Mark turns to her, “Do you play doctors?”

Mark was then met with the same lack on enthusiasm. She hums, “I like playing baker doctor.”

All at once, Mark gasps, “ME TOO!”

It was unbeknownst to the children it was oddly specific and the chance of this happening was pretty slim.

And in a blink of an eye, excited giggles erupt in the room, as if they had been having so much fun before this scene. It was here and there the two would become best friends to the very end.

... so I guess it means the reckoning is upon us.

“MARK LEE I SWEAR TO THE FU--” “WHAT! WHAT!?” Mark laughs.

"YOU ATE MY BAGEL! AGAIN!" I growl in a loud whisper, throwing the wrapper at him and his flat head before he could think to dodge it while he annoyingly laughs.

"I asked if I could have it though!" he says, fully knowing his sins.

I glared at him and say lowly, "I thought you were referring to my notes, bread for brains."

Mark snorts loud enough for our teacher to wake up from his nap. Once the class notices, we all pretend to be doing something productive and Mark plays it off with a cough.

"Mr. Lee." Mr. Kim says sternly, clicking his tongue, blinking his eyes rapidly.

Mark finishes coughing and turns to our seated professor, "Yes sir."

"Don't go to school if you're sick and going to cause a racket with your coughing."

Mark nods firmly and Mr. Kim closes his eyes again, mumbling, "page 65 is due tomorrow."

The entire class grumbles. Mark beside me scoffs and makes a face, "Yeah, yeah, Doyoung."

I turn to him and elbow his side.

"Whatever," Mark shakes his head, "professor bunny-teeth won't hear me."

Once class ended, we both get our things and head out for lunch. We walk to our canteen, fussing over assignments, deciding we should do it together later in our mutually free period.

I groan and narow your eyes at him as we have an argument over how he hasn't finished the essay for English, "That's not the point."

"Yo Mark!" a voice calls from afar. Mark and I turn, looking for the voice, and I spot the dimpled senior, Jung Jaehyun, in a table with the rest of his squad.

I nudge Mark and point at the pale guy seated by the corner.

Mark throws him a smile and waves. I follow closely behind him as he walks over to the table. "We're going to sit with them?" I say in some sort of gasp.

"Yeah." Mark replies simply, not bothering to turn to me, "they're cool."

I knit my brows at that and nod, "Yeah I know. But I'm not cute today."

Mark stops in his tracks and throws me a confused look, "what?"

"I didn't put any make-up on today, also I'm pretty sure there's a visible stain somewhere on my jacket, I just don't remember where."

Mark scrunches his face up again, even more confused. "What? How do you... forget a stai-- that's not the point. Why do you wanna look cute today?" He scoffs and continues lowly, "hardly as if you ever look cute."

I let out an annoyed groan and punch Mark's shoulder. "Like when you panicked when Seulgi came over and asked for notes."

Mark openes his mouth, "That is so not the same! Jaehyun's a fuck bo-"

"Just shut up already," I snap and shove him forward so he'd continue walking. "Let's not keep him waiting," I add and mumble, "also I know. Dong Sicheng however is very cute."

Mark chuckles, "he's dated every girl on the dance team."

"Okay, maybe not that cute."

"Ya, Mark," Jaehyun grins and greets the said person with a high-five and chest bump. He turns to me and speaks my name with a smile. I smile back politely and wave.

I'm about to sit next to Sicheng, but Mark shoves me and so I end up sitting on the other side of the bench table with Jaehyun. I turn to Jaehyun with a small, non-awkward smile and shoot Mark a glare. He seems unbothered though.

"So, you up for a round later?" Jaehyun asks Mark.

Mark talks over me, "you know it, dude."

Jaehyun flashes his dimple smile all the stupid girls fall for. I'm only half falling for it cause I'm only half stupid. He raises his brows, "you bought the dough, right?"

This makes me knit my brows.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I really did this time," Mark mumbles quickly. "It's my turn anyway."

Jaehyun gives an off look, "that's literally what you said last time bro."

"Yo, no for real. It's in my bag, if you wanna check."

Jaehyun shakes his head when Mark begins to scramble for it, "no, Lee, it's good. We wouldn't want you friend to get dirty."

Is it just me or do you feel slimey all of a sudden?

Jaehyun then gives me a somewhat, somehow sincere smile, "so. I hear you're in fashion design."

I give a soft chuckle, "yeah. That's me."

"I could tell from a mile away. Mark looks horrible next to your getup."

I look down at my sweater and ripped jeans. Mark exclaims in protest, "shut the hell up, Jae."

I give a soft smile at Jaehyun, "don't know where that comes from but thanks I guess."

Jaehyun chuckles, "I'm kidding," he eyes Mark, "I saw your Fashion Design pin on your bag when you sat down."

"Oooohhhh, haha, okay, that makes sense."

"Ya, Jeff," Sicheng calls for Jaehyun, "it's almost time."

Jaehyun turns to his friend and nods. He turns back to me and Mark, "well, it's nice to meet you. Mark won't put a sock in it even if I beg. See you around, fashionista."

He stands and slaps Mark's back, "see ya later, broski."

"Yeah, bruh," Mark replies.

Once it's just Mark and I, I snap at him and blurt out in a whisper yell, "YOU'RE ON BROSKI LEVEL WITH JUNG JAEHYUN?!"

Mark gives me a weird face, "bruh, I think he calls the principal broski, for real."

I smack Mark, making him whine, "you know what I'm talking about, Mark! And what, are you doing drugs?!?"

He shakes his head in confusion, "Wait, what!? Who the hell told you that?"

"Uhhhhh you were talking about dough and showing up later. Sounds like you owe him money for drugs, Mark."

"??? In what universe did we even mention drugs?? Does this," he slaps his face, "look like a face of a drug addict to you?"

"A gullible idiot maybe."

Mark's jaw drops, "oh wow, okay. I'm done with this conversation." He proceeds to stand attempt to walk away. I scoff, "not on my watch bitch."

Like the true idiot that he is, Mark begins to legit run away from me, like a criminal who stole my cookies. It's embarrassing that he, a man much taller than I, could not even outrun me. I suppose I should be grateful, but this just fortifies my thoughts of him being an idiot even more.

But okay... I wasn't actually expecting this... like... Mark and Jaehyun... like... actually baking bread after school with dough Mark premade at home. Also, uh, Jaehyun looks super cute in an apron that I'm having a mental breakdown. And what's new, so does Mark.

"I can't believe you thought I was a drug dealer," Jaehyun says in a soft pout as he rolls out dough on the marble counter of his friggin large kitchen in his friggin large house. Like dang, I knew he was rich, but he's like Rich™ Rich. Rich with a golden diamond encrusted Rolex watch rich that's in a glass display rich-- wtf.

Mark wheezes in his telltale high pitched laugh as he opens a pack of unsweetened chocolate pellets, "she thought dough was some sort of metaphor or something."

"Cute," they say at the same time. Mark turns to Jaehyun in slight surprise and Jaehyun turns to me. I roll my eyes, though I feel my neck burn. I avert my attention to the scene I was sketching on my pad, Jaehyun and Mark baking croissants. I clear my throat, "I'm just making use of the single braincell between us, cause if he doesn't die falling down the stairs, he's gonna pull some idiotic stuff like baking with Jung Jaehyun."

Oddly, it's Mark that reacts to that with a, "hey!"

Jaehyun rubs his chin on his shoulder, "I also can't believe you think so little of me.'

I break a sweat but decide to answer honestly, "... ... ... You have a reputation."

"Of being a fuck boy?"

Mark loudly transfers the chocolates into a metal bowl, making the two of us snap at him. Mark makes a face, "oh gosh, sorry."

Jaehyun sighs, "well. I admit I get around, but that's only because I get dumped every time."

I raise a brow.

Jaehyun purses his lips, "nah, let's not make this weird. The croissants will be flat."

"Dude," Mark turns to him, "that's literally only because you messed up the recipe."

Jaehyun grits his teeth, "no. It's because Kun's a little teacher's pet and sabotaged me so he could get the best grade."

"No, but like Kun is really nice, he helped me with the fold techinique."

Jaehyun scoffs, "He stole me vanilla extract, Mark. Who does that?!"

"No, listen, he's cool, like, for real--"

"No, you listen, he's a little shit and--"

The two begin to bicker like a married couple, and I begin to draw inspiration form the scene to design some random sketches of wedding dresses.

I look back to the two and still can't get over the fact that I learned Jaehyun was a culinary arts major with my best friend, and that I was currently in the Jung's boojie home because I thought Mark was buying drugs from him. Not what I was expecting at all my day to go like, but I'm not mad this is how it went.

"No, no, no, no," Jaehyun says. He turns to me and points, "let's just get an outside opinion. Babe, what's your favorite color?"

"BABE?!" Mark barks.

I take a moment to reply. I blink slowly, "uhh... pink?"

Jaehyun bites his lower lip and claps his flour covered hands, "Right. Pink croissants it is."

Mark shoots him a glare and turns to me, back to Jaehyun, "she has a name."

Jaehyun nods, "yeah, and she wants pink croissants."

Mark makes a face and Jaehyun examines it, chuckling under his breath. "Wah, you two are something, huh."

No one really responds.

We began to always eat lunch with Jaehyun and his friends. It's funny cause I realized Jaehyun, although I still firmly believed he was out to get nasty with every other girl he sees, he was actually just like Mark. A total loser with a love for cooking.

"Hey," Mark says with a snippy tone.

I give him a look and suddenly receive a paper bag to my face. Mark sits on his chair next to me, as per usual. I smell the thing before I realize what it is. It's a freshly baked bagel. I perk up and smile, "Aw, you baked me a bagel?"

Mark raises his upper lip, "no. Jaehyun did."

I knit my brows, "what? Why?"

Mark narrows his brows, "do you, like, like him?"

I give him a look. I take a bite of the bagel, making Mark look at me in disbelief. I answer, "You do know I only hang with him cause you do, right?"

"Then why'd you eat the bagel then?"

"Uh, a number of reasons. 1) it's a bagel, 2) free food, 3) I'm starving, 4) it smells amazingggg."

Mark does a face, "fair. I've been meaning to ask how he does his seasoning for a while now too." He releases a breath, "and anyway, I'm pretty sure he made a bagel cause I told him you liked them. Never talking about you to him anymore though."

I look at him, "why do you talk about me so much to him anyway?"

"Uh because you're amazing," Mark says instinctively.

I feel my heart skip at that. I coo and place my hands on my chest, "wait that's really sweet."

Mark looks at me. His face begin to shift, "too bad it's a lie- haha."

I give him a look and rebut, "jerk."

"Loser."

As quickly as I found out about Jaehyun being Mark's friend, that's about as quickly as I found out he didn't like hanging out with him anymore. It's kind of a shame I never got to go back to his boojie house.

There was this one encounter I had with Jaehyun though... which was a little weird, not gonna lie.

He was waiting for me outside my Tailoring class, smiling and waving when he saw me. I Reluctantly reciprocated and walked over to him.

He releases a breath, "I've been waiting for about 20 minutes for you. I didn't know when your class would end."

I raise my brows, "you could have asked?"

"Well I would need your number for that, and that would have ruined the surprise," he pulled out a brown paper bag, reminiscing the same one Mark chucked at my face.

"I made you two this time," he smiles.

I take a moment to reply, "you don't have to make me bagels, Jaehyun."

He grabs my hand, "yeah, but I want something out of ya," he places the bagels in my hand. He proceeds to lead us off and we begin to walk down the hall.

Truth be told, it's a little scary that his ulterior motive is up in the air. Jaehyun places his hands in his pockets, "I like your dress, by the way."

I smile, "thanks. I made it."

He smiles and nods, "right. That makes sense as to why it suits you well."

I can't help but blush at that, and simultaneously feel conscious when I realize a bunch of girls in my course are looking at me and Jaehyun as we strut down the hall.

"So, what did you want, Jaehyun?"

"Well, I clearly wanted to ask you out."

"..."

Jaehyun smiles and give a soft laugh, "is it so ground breaking?"

"... Uh..."

He sniggers, "hey, you can say no. I mean I hope you don't but you can." Jaehyun leans in and raises his hands, "I won't like it, but a man should take rejection from a lady well."

I turn to him as he straightens up. I turn to the bagels he made me and bring it back to him. He laughs, "no, I made them for you really. It's not poisoned, in fact it's made with love."

I visibly react to that, which makes Jaehyun wheeze. I can't help but laugh back, "that was hella tacky."

"Worth a shot though," he says. "Good luck with Mark."

I look at him with silence and he chuckles, "ya, you can't fool me."

I'm about to retort but then Jaehyun gets called by one of the frats dudes I identify as Johnny Seo. Jaehyun does a curtsy and clicks his tongue, "see ya later babez."

"You know, I would have said yes if you didn't do stuff like that."

Jaehyun purses his lips, "no you wouldn't."

I shrug, "worth a shot though."

Jaehyun places a hand on his chest, dramatically calling, "Uh, rejection hurts, man."

Yeah, I never went to Jaehyun's boojie house ever again.

Silver lining though was Mark's dorm smelled equally as nice because of all the food he cooks, although it came with a whiff of axe body spray from his roommate, Lucas. It's cool though, he was almost never around for me to smell it in its whole intensity.

"Aite," Mark calls from his side of the dorm. I perk up from the two seater dining table they had and turn to Mark who was covering the cake he was making for his finals.

"Don't, like, peek, okay. I want you to see the cake all at once and give me your honest reaction to it. Please, like, all my lives kinda depend on it."

"How many lives do you have?"

"9, I'm pretty sure."

I stand from my seat, "not you faking your life as a cat, but get it I guess."

Mark raises a hand at me as I walk over, "can you not, I'm high-key panicking right now."

"Over what? You literally made a box of donuts for your midterms and it looked better than Misty Mreme! I'm sure your cake is hot."

"It was in the minifridge for a day. I mean it barely fit cause of all of Lucas' mountain dew."

I groan, "just show me it, Mark Lee!"

Mark whined and dashes over to me, grabbing my shoulders, "okay, but like, don't be mean about it. I swear, I might cry."

I give a sound and fake cough, "it's ugly."

Mark doesn't respond to that particular jab, "I'm serioussss. Please be kind, okay?"

I look at Mark's nervous face and give a soft pout, "Markie, please, not that I think it would be ugly, but I promise you don't have to be nervous about my reaction."

He isn't soothed by that, but he does release a sigh, "okay. So for context, Mr. Moon wanted the cake to be one or two tiers, but I went with one, cause there aint no way I'm going to the other side of the campus to freeze a two tiered cake. Then, the theme was something from your childhood, so, I, uh, thought this was fitting. The exam is 60 percent decoration, 40 percent taste by the way."

Mark gives me a hesitant look, but steps way for me to see it. I then see a heart shaped, medium sized cake in my favorite pastel pink color. By the top there's a little boy on the floor playing with a toy oven set and little girl in a bumble bee dress, holding a stethoscope. At the bottom of the cake, there were jelly letters spelling out, "I like you."

I cup my cheeks at the sight of it and feel my eyes start to well at the sentiment.

Wait... was this really happening?

Mark heaves in and out, "okay, so like when Jaehyun began to like hit on you, that sucked pretty hard because he's known for getting girls and I thought maybe he'd get you too and I got panicky. Anyway, I....... have liked you since we were kids... And... I know you probably don't feel the same way but I have to try, you know.... Yolo."

My feel my tears retract from what I hear. I rub my eyes. I turn to Mark and find his nervous face. "Did you just say yolo in your confession, Mark?"

He looks like he's about to throw up.

I can't help but chuckle and pout, "dude..."

I prolong the moment. Mark gets even more nervous as he repeats softly, "dude..."

"We could have dated in grade school all this time."

It takes a moment to register in his head.

Like, a really long moment.

I sigh, "Mark! I like you too, dummy."

He freezes and blinks. His face begins to burn. He breaks into a soft smile, "nice."

I break into a laugh.

"... Uh... So... Can I like... Kiss you?"

I snort and feel my own cheeks begin to burn, "I think you should refrigerate your cake first."

Mark snaps out of this trance, "oh shoot, you-" I give him a quick peck on the lips.

He is dumbfounded.

I feel butterflies go wild in my stomach.

"I'll wait over there for when you've fixed that."

Mark watches as I walk away, "yooo.... That's not fair though."

284 notes · View notes

bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago

Text

I hate the way you drive my car

So, we’re ignoring the fact that it’s 4 am but here I am with the second part of 10 things I hate about you. Ignore typos, I’ll fix them at some point (maybe ?).

Also, this might be a little bit of, like, soft smut???? Unsure, but hey, stuff happens. I don’t know if this actually counts.

NOTE: the line about being ‘a pop-up book from hell’ I’m pretty sure that line is from Gilmore Girls that I used in here (I changed it a bit but still gotta give credit)

I hope you like it!

Read the whole series: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

__________________________

“Because we both know that’s not true.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

----------

“I need to ask you a huge favor,” you hear him say on the other end of the call as you’re pacing around your apartment out of boredom.

You groan, knowing that nothing good could come of him asking you for something at ten am on a Saturday. “No.”

“You don’t even know what it is!” he whines on the other end.

“But I know you and know that it’s probably not something I’m going to like if you have to call and ask me.”

“Can you at least hear what I need before you make a decision?” Matthew huffs, clearly a little bothered by the fact that you were dismissing him before giving him a chance.

You can’t help but laugh imagining the pout he has on his face, the one he would be giving you in person that always, without fail, made you say yes to whatever he was asking of you. But you weren’t in person, so instead of conceding, you tease him with, “Hard maybe, but you’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?”

“I need to borrow your car.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not!” he whines again. You can hear him mumbling to himself about what other options he could think that he had, knowing that he had none as it was if you were the one he was calling.

“Why do you need my car? Where’s yours?”

“We need alcohol and all the boys are busy. And my car is in the shop, the brakes were being a bitch. I didn’t want them to crap out on me when I need to make a sudden stop or something.”

“Yeah, because we both know you’re good at stopping even with good brakes,” you tease.

You hear him laugh on the other end, so strong and genuine that hearing him made you stop and smile for a moment. “What can I say, I pull out all the stops. And yet, I can never use them to get you in bed.” He closes his eyes, thankful that you couldn’t see him regretting saying something that stupid to you. If he kept up this shit with you, you would have a list of way more than ten things that you hated about him. “But, please, can I borrow your car?” You stop for a moment to think, really not wanting to hand over your keys to him. “Your silence means no?”

“You live two blocks from a liquor store. Are you fucking joking?” you let out.

“I never joke about fucking, especially with you,” he says, forcing you to roll your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. He really did mean it, no matter how oblivious you were to that fact. “But that one doesn’t have what we want and the nearest one that has our shit is too far to walk to.”

“I do not trust you to drive my car,” you tell him, hearing the line go dead. You pull the phone away from your ear to see that he was trying to switch to Facetime, probably to wear you down with his stupid pout that always made you say yes. “There is no way I am letting you drive my car.”

“Y/N, I am begging. I will do anything.” He juts out his lip, batting his eyes at you in hopes of convincing you.

“I’ll drive you there.”

“I feel like I’m two seconds from death every time I get in a car with you behind the wheel.”

“Order an Uber.”

“But you’re cheaper!”

Your jaw drops as you can’t help but scoff at what he just said. He can’t really think that saying something like that to you would work. He didn’t mean it like that, just that it was easier to buy you a bottle of wine than pay for the Uber there, back and the tip. But he wasn’t thinking about that enough to fully explain. You study the background behind him, clearly walking into a familiar building, not quite able to make out why you knew the building based on the angle he held the camera. “Wait, where are you?”

“Bye!” he says, hanging up on you immediately without you being able to get an answer.

“Evie!” you yell, clearly frustrated with Matthew’s antics. You wait to hear her open her door, praying that she was awake. “Evelina!” you screech again.

You hear her door open and slam shut, her bare feet hitting the tile of the floor in the hallway as she makes her way to you, “If you go any higher, only dogs will hear you. Why are you waking me up?”

“I have another thing to add to the list.”

She groans, closing her eyes and dropping her head back as her eyes followed to the ceiling. “You know how to write. The list is literally on the fridge. This is not something you needed me for.”

“Well, Miss ‘They have to be legitimate reasons,’” you mock her voice, “I had to make sure it was a real reason by your standards.”

“What else could you hate about Matthew?”

“I hate when he drives my car.”

“When the fuck does he do that?”

“When I asked her if I could get alcohol from the store on the other side of the city,” you hear Matthew’s voice behind you, causing both of you to jump.

“Jesus, you’re like the pop-up book from Hell. How the fuck did you get in here? The door was locked!”

“Evelina gave me a key,” he says, waving his key ring in the air as if you could tell which one he was referring to in the mess of keys.

You turn back to Evelina, your mouth open, eyes wide, eyebrows raised. Everything about your expression said, ‘what the hell?’ without verbally saying it. She shrugs, obviously still groggy from being woken up by your screaming. “He’s here all the time and you always happen to be busy when he’s knocking at the door. It was the third key our landlord gave us, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

You open and close your mouth like a fish, unable to figure out what to say. Of all the people she could give the spare key to Matthew of all people.

“So why do you hate when I drive your car?” Matthew cuts the silence out.

“Well if it’s anything like the way you skate, then I don’t think I want to see it.”

“I said I would do anything!” he whines, Evelina groans, leaving the two of you to head to the kitchen, presumably to write the new thing on the list.

“And what does that entail?”

“I would prefer something in the bedroom,” he flirts, earning another eye roll from you.

“How about you start by getting my bag from my bedroom and then we’ll go,” you say, waving him off and practically running to the kitchen to find Evelina. “Matthew doesn’t know about the list, right?”

Evelina looks at you, hesitating to answer. Something tells her that him knowing the entire plan wouldn’t bode well with you. “Did you tell him about it?”

“No.”

“Then, no,” she lies. “And the car thing doesn’t count. You’ve never had him drive your car before. Plus, why would him knowing be a bad thing?”

“Because you know him. He’s just gonna flirt with me and try to make me forget that I hate him. You know I’m a sucker for a sweet guy.”

She looks at you for a moment, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. “Ok, I’m going to list all the reasons why you’re wrong, and then I’m going back to bed because I don’t want to deal with you anymore.” You roll your eyes at her, something you had already done a lot today, yet still feel the need to keep doing. “So, one. I really do not know him that well, all I know is that he’s clearly in love with you. Plus, I’m closer with Elias, remember? Two. You clearly do not know what flirting is because you two flirt with each other all the time. Every day. Every minute. It’s annoying. Three. You have a very specific type, and sweet isn’t always a given. I know you have dated three guys, and all three of them were hockey players who always got in fights, had curly hair, really nice eyes, and are always someone pest-like. Does that sound like anyone?”

“None of that is true.”

“All of that is true,” she counters, leading to the two of you going back and forth, bickering about the validity of her three point list.

“Hey, is this it?” Matthew interrupts the two of you, holding up your bag.

“Yes, let’s go,” you say, taking the bag from him and pushing him out the door. “You head down and start up my car, the keys are by the door, Evelina just needs to finish the list first.” You swear you see his eyes go wide and look at your roommate before he darts out the front door. You could have meant the list of alcohol she wanted. Evelina wouldn’t lie to you about him knowing about the hate list. “You’re wrong,” you tell Evelina.

She throws her hands in the air, walking back to her room, “Don’t bother me unless you finally realize you love him or you can actually add ‘the way he drives my car’ to your list.”

“I hate you,” you call to her in a sing-songy voice.

“Love you, too,” you hear her reply, closing her door.

You go down to your car, hearing it before seeing it in your spot since Matthew had already turned the volume on your radio up louder than you ever wanted it to go. Your hand reaches for the volume button before you even put the seatbelt on, muting the music to tell him, “There is absolutely no way you’re listening to the music this loud. How can you hear yourself think?”

“I’m honestly surprised you even believe I think. But did Ev give you her list?”

“No, she left it on the fridge,” you say, without thinking.

“The fridge?”

You hesitate, not wanting to tell him about the list. You hated more things about him than you liked, so why did you have to keep reminding yourself about that? And why was it so hard to come up with things to put on there. “It was the grocery list, she’s buying the stuff after her nap and needed to know what I wanted for food,” you lie, hoping he would buy it.

“Is whipped cream on the list?” he asks, pulling out of the garage. The smirk on his face tells you that you shouldn’t ask to elaborate whatever thought was running through his mind, but you couldn’t help but ask anyway. “So you can spray it all over me and lick it off.”

“You’d have to clean up my vomit right after,” you joke, hearing his laugh again. “Who’s to say that I wouldn’t want you licking it off me, instead?” you flirt back, knowing it would get something out of him.

Hearing you say that makes him stop breathing for a moment, letting his mind wander to the image of that scene. His entire body tenses up thinking about it, only to be snapped out by you yelling, “Brake, brake, Matthew, brake!” He slams on the brakes of your car, narrowly avoiding rear ending the person in front of you. “This is why your brakes are crapping out!” you squeal, eyes wide with fury at his nonattention to the road in front of him. “I’m driving home, you are not allowed to drive my car back.”

“Calm down, are you dead?”

“I just died a little on the inside.”

The smirk from before returns to his face, “We both know you die a little every time we go to work, I’m just helping move that along.” Still at the red light, he takes his eyes off the road to look at you, the smirk turning into a soft smile.

You can’t help but bite part of your bottom lip, the rest of your lips forming a smile. His eyes flick between yours and your lips, knowing that he wanted to kiss you. You tear your eyes away to look at the road, fully aware of his eyes still on you, “Green light.”

The two of you drive the rest of the way in silence. Was that some sort of moment between the two of you? If he hadn’t been driving, would he have kissed you? And would you have let him?

No, you wouldn’t kiss your best friend. Nothing would make you want to kiss him. You take out your phone, pulling up your conversation with Evelina. ‘Add the way he drives my car to the list. Or the way he drives in general. I don’t care.’ You sigh, hesitating before hitting send.

“You ok?” you hear Matthew say, hitting send before you can decide not to as you pull into the parking lot of the liquor store.

“Oh, yeah. My boss is just asking me some stuff about one of my projects at work,” you lie to him. Evelina responds, just with an eye roll emoji.

“Alright,” Matthew says, leading you into the liquor store, “Get something for you and something for Evelina and I’ll pay for it.”

You just nod, both of you giving an awkward smile to the other as you went your separate ways in the store. Evelina needed another bottle of her favorite wine, but you had no idea what you wanted. You eventually find yourself looking at a bottle of wine with Snoop Dogg on the label, of all people. “What’s that?” Matthew startles you, causing you to almost drop the bottle right on the ground.

“This wine brand called 19 Crimes,” you say, showing him the bottle, “Snoop Dogg is a partner in the company.”

“19 Crimes? Is that how many we’re going to commit in the bedroom our first time,” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist.

You smile and roll your eyes at him. “It’s a reference to British and Australian history, Matthew,” you tell him, admittedly leaning in a little to his touch.

“Ok?”

“So starting in the 1780s or 90s, Britain, instead of killing their convicts, would send them to Australia as punishment. If you committed one of 19 Crimes, you would be sent there, starting a colony of criminals and eventually turning into the down under we know and love today.”

“What are the 19 crimes?” He asks, leading you through the store.

“The first is grand larceny, or theft above the value of one shilling.”

His hand moves from your waist into your back pocket, your breath hitching slightly at his touch. “Keep going,” he whispers into your air, still leading you around the store.

“The second: petty larceny, which is theft under one shilling.” You feel his fingers start to tense up in your pocket, sending a shiver down your spine as his touch became more intimate. Without waiting, you keep going, “The third was buying or receiving stolen goods.”

He pulls you closer to him, tightening the grip he has on you as he starts to grab bottles from the shelves with his free hand and put them into the cart he was pushing. “What’s the fourth?”

“Stealing, buying, or receiving lead, iron or copper.”

“Seems weird,” he notes.

“The fifth will really get you: impersonating an Egyptian.”

He laughs a low laugh, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Weirdly specific, but keep telling me more.” You could be telling him anything right now, and he would probably be going just as crazy as he was now. Keeping you slightly in front of him, he was glad he couldn’t see how red in the face he was getting from the history you were telling him.

“Six would be stealing from furnished lodgings, so anything stamped with the London County Council seal would send you to Australia. Seven was setting fire to underwood, which is undergrowth in a forest.” You were doing everything in your power to restrain yourself, your hand taking his from your back pocket and moving it back around to the front of you. His fingers find their way into your front pocket, settling on your hip bone as his thumb hooks onto your belt loop.

“Eight,” you keep going before he can say anything else, feeling his gaze on you as you try to ignore the tightening grip, “is stealing letters, advancing the postage, and secreting the money, which is robbing the post office of mail. The ninth was assaulting with an intent to rob.”

You realize Matthew had led you to the back corner of the store, secluded from the other customers. Behind the stake of boxes and the shelves of bottles that surrounded you, no one could see you. Everything he was doing, you would have the same reaction to any boy, you tell yourself. It’s not because it’s Matthew, it’s because he’s just a guy.

“Number ten?” he whispers in your ear, turning you so that you face him.

“Number ten is stealing fish from a pond or river,” you let out, his hands on your waist as he pulls you close to him. He presses his forehead against yours, your hands on his chest. You can feel his heart racing, almost in sync with yours as you keep going. “Similarly, 11 was stealing or destroying roots, trees or plants.”

“Eight more,” he says, kissing your forehead.

Your eyes flutter closed, knowing that looking at him would only make this worse for you. “Because of the divorce laws that were in place, number 12 was common: bigamy, the act of marriage while already in another marriage.” He places another kiss on your forehead, his hands on the small of your back to pull him even closer to you, allowing you to feel everything he felt.

“13 was assaulting, cutting or burning clothing. 14: counterfeiting the copper coin.” His kisses start to trail down the side of your face, tracing your jaw bone as you continue, “Clandestine, or secret marriage was 15.”

“I love that you know this. Four more,” you hear him say, kissing your collar bone as you try to stifle the moan that escaped from your lips anyway, praying that no one saw you two doing this.

Your eyes still closed, you continue, “Stealing a shroud out of a grave was 16. 17: watermen carrying too many passengers on the Thames, if any drowned.”

You let out another involuntary groan before he pulls away, a low chuckle escaping his lips as his forehead is once again pressed on yours. You open your eyes to see his blue ones staring straight into your soul. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as he whispered, “I think it’s pronounced ‘Tems,’ babe.”

A grin on your face, knowing he was right, “Where I’m from, we say it phonetically.” His eyes flicked between yours and your lips, just like they did in your car earlier. “18 was incorrigible rogues, people who had already been convicted as a rogue or vagabond and resists arrest, who broke out of prison and person reprieved from capital punishment.”

“What’s the last one?” he whispers again, his lips nearly ghosting yours.

“The nineteenth and final crime that would get a British convict sent to Australia was embeuling naval stores, or stealing naval supplies, in certain cases.”

His lips hovering against yours, not quite touching but close enough to be begging to connect. “In certain cases, would you want this?”

You knew what he was referring to. Did he actually want this? You were trying to convince yourself that he didn’t, but it was hard to believe that. “Matthew. We...” you hesitate, denying that fact that you wanted to. It wasn’t because it was Matthew, you would be this way with any boy. “We can’t.”

He exhales, pulling away from you. “Ok,” he says, a weak smile. He takes your hand, pushing the cart with the other towards the front of the store. You drop his hand, reaching for your phone to text Evelina.

‘I hate the way he teases me,’ you send her, not wanting to give her any more context. Ignoring the vibration that meant she was responding to you, you watch Matthew as he checks out the copious amount of alcohol that he had gotten for the guys. He bites his bottom lip as he pays, his chest now steadily moving up and down as his breath had calmed down from before.

‘This list has to work for me,’ he thinks to himself. He couldn’t let something like that happen again. He couldn’t let you think of ten things. He didn’t even know how close you were to being done.

The two of you get back into your car, the haul almost completely filling up your trunk. You hadn’t said a word to each other, but you did need to know how Matthew had planned on getting everything back to his place.

With Matthew in the driver's seat, you feel like you need to apologize. As much as you hate to admit it, you were definitely feeling something because of Matthew. Was it because it was specifically Matthew? No, no, it was just... you didn’t know. Something. But, did that just change anything between you?

“Hey, Y/N?” Matthew snaps you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you know all that?”

“We talked about the English colonization of Australia very briefly when I was in high school, but we never went in depth with it. Then I saw this video of a news report in Australia where a woman had submitted a comment saying that if they didn’t like having all the criminals in their country, they should just find another island to send them to. The news casters were laughing so hard saying that that was how Australia was pretty much founded. So I looked into what it took for Britain to send their convicts to Australia. I guess I liked it so much that I just memorized the list? I don’t know, it’s dumb,” you discount yourself. “Sometimes I feel like people forget that I’m actually a little intelligent.”

“I think you’re more than a little intelligent; you’re the smartest person I know.” He turns onto his street, you finally realizing that he had driven to his place to make it easier to bring everything up. “I love y-” he starts, realizing he can’t say what he wants to, “I love that you know so much.”

You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, getting out of the car to help him carry everything up to his place. You do so in silence, needing two trips to your car to get his haul into his apartment. “I’ll see you later?” he asks, once it’s all in. After that, he couldn’t stay in the same room as you, knowing that he would want to do so much more than what had happened in the store.

“Yeah, see ya,” you say, going out the door. You shut it behind you, leaning your back against it. You close your eyes, head touching the cold wood. You needed to finish that list as fast as possible. Seven more things before it was complete. “Fuck.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines #flames #flames imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl #nhl imagines

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freddiekluger · 4 years ago

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please drop the essay length analysis Judas and Jesus (extra gay Swedish edition), O great and knowledgeable monarch of our times

alright, you ask i deliver! please excuse any typos, my eyes aren't exactly working rn

welcome to my probably super subjective but correct analysis, aka

Judas Was Right and Jesus Was A Victim (At Least, In Swedish)

Before we get started, a couple points: i’ll try to avoid comparisons to other specific productions, i’ve only seen the other recorded 2012 british version which i didn’t like for reasons including but not limited to the amount of white people with dreadlocks. Also, my understanding of swedish is limited to a couple words and phrases, so most of the lyrics i reference will be english subtitles from Ola Salo’s swedish translation and therefore might not be the most accurate !

There’s so much i could cover in this, but for now i’m going to focus on how jesus and judas are portrayed in the 2014 swedish arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar (JCS) starring Ola Salo as Jesus and Peter Johansson as Judas, along with how this production more implicitly views god.

From the opening number, translated into swedish as En Dimmig Himmelsdröm (A Foggy Heaven’s Dream), Peter Johansson’s acting and semantic differences in the lyrics present us with a deeply sympathetic portrayal of Judas. Looking purely at language, the english equivalent Heaven On Their Minds instantly paints Judas as much more of a faithless doubter- lyrics exclusive to the english version like “all your followers have gone blind / too much heaven on their minds” and “they think you’re the new messiah / and they’ll hurt you when they find they’re wrong” strongly enforce Judas’ main motivation for his actions being that he has less belief in Jesus and God’s plan than any of the other disciples with strong statements judging the other disciples for following him and claiming that Jesus ISN’T the messiah. The swedish translation doesn’t paint exactly the same picture- the focus of Judas’ number becomes his fear for Jesus’ wellbeing, not because he isn’t the messiah (the production remains fairly ambiguous on this point), but because Jesus can’t cope. The root of Judas’ concern comes from fear for Jesus’ wellbeing, and the disciples are referenced as regularly misunderstanding and wilfully twisting Jesus’ words. The swedish equivalent lyrics for the above examples are “they say, “jesus is god’s son” / but you know how people can change” (judas isn’t concerned with truth, just the danger that jesus will be in if the tide turns), and “the kingdom of heaven is within us, that’s what you said / bu they sew it, stitch by stich into some kind of foggy heaven’s dream”. Judas is showing that he HAS been listening and cares for Jesus’ teachings, but ‘they’ [his disciples] are turning them into something else entirely, and Judas’ worries that the support of the masses is fragile at best- the lines “and everything you say gets twisted by your lackeys / it will be anything but what you’ve said” and “you are being used by people who want you in their battle” reinforces this again. When combined with Peter Johansson’s tough but tender performance, in which he dances between disdain for Jesus, the institution, and affection for Jesus, the man (an important distinction), Judas is the harsh realist doing his best to look out for the man he loves. The way he takes Jesus hands and looks at him with love and urgency straight away establishes that his motivations are pure- Judas is doing what he thinks is best, even though it feels like no one will listen to him.

That was long, but En Dimmig Himmelsdröm is the perfect character introduction for Judas. He’s not totally unrecognisable, still delivering digs about ‘Jesus, the little carpenter’s son’, his manner is still rough and at this point we’re not sure whether or not the claims he makes about the disciples have any truth to them, BUT we can also see how much Jesus means to him, an important point that give context to the intensity of their future arguments and really makes the whole story much more heartbreaking.

This brings me to Ola Salo’s Jesus. Delightfully camp and queercoded, Judas describes him as being caught up in his own magic and mystery and buckling under the pressure, and he’s not entirely wrong. Throughout the first act, Jesus basks in the luxuries that being messiah can give him (the oils Mary paid for using disciple funds that were supposed to go towards helping the poor, him absolutely thriving in the shopping cart in What’s the Buzz?), and is shown actively avoiding any reminders of the seriousness of his position. He’s sick of the disciples asking him for a plan, he chooses the comforting Mary, who’s theme consists of telling Jesus everything is okay and he doesn’t need to think about anything, over Judas, who is less perhaps ‘cosy’ but is actively trying to warn and protect Jesus from an awful fate. During The Temple, he starts to crack as he’s overcome by the followers begging him to make him well, fear in his eyes as he raises his arms while frozen on the spot trying to avoid being devoured by the frenzy in desperate need of a messiah. Judas’ point about Jesus buckling under the pressure is starting to look more and more reasonable, and the dashes of showbiz campness add to the sense that much of Jesus is a persona constructed for the masses to give himself enough distance to prevent him from being crushed by the weight of God entirely. Jesus, the institution, prances around, lays his hands on his followers, and projects an air of easygoing calm. Jesus, the man, is scared and alone, and Jesus, the man, really comes out in Last Supper, but before we get there, I want to circle back to the Jesus/Mary/Judas thing.

Jesus, Mary, and Judas are presented as a love triangle: so much so, that Judas seeing Mary sing of her love for Jesus (I Don’t Know How To Love Him) is actually played as the inciting incident that sends him to the pharisees. Judas, the picture of the jealous lover, storms onto the scene, breaking them up and attempting to kiss Jesus, who instead shoves him to the ground in disdain. Judas, who is perhaps a little controlling, realises that any influence he had over Jesus has gone, and it’s likely a combination of jealousy and the knowledge that Jesus won’t stop that prompts him to head to the pharisees. In his meeting with the pharisees (known in english as Damned For All Time, although that phrase doesn’t appear once in the swedish), Judas’ expresses outright that “I’m the one who sees / Jesus, he can’t handle it anymore” “the truth is that this hysteria is making him lose control”, once he can get past explaining how much this plan of action feels like a last resort. He never even verbally or physically accept the pharisees’ offer of money, he denies it twice before it is eventually thrown over him after he reluctantly gives them the date and time to find Jesus- we never even see him pick it up, unlike other productions which show Judas grabbing for the cash and place a higher emphasis on Judas making sure he ‘won’t be damned for all time’, painting Judas as far more self serving. When it comes to Jesus, Judas is active- he’s running around trying to help, caressing him, embracing him, grabbing his hand, kissing him. They share countless moment of intimacy, especially at the start, establishing the fondness between them instead of instantly jumping to their conflict. When it comes to Mary (and admittedly, this is partially because she’s a secondary character- don’t get me wrong I still love her and Gunilla Backman does a brilliant job), she’s much more passive. Other than the much more gentle kisses in I Don’t Know How To Love Him and her penchant for dabbing Jesus’ forehead, she’s mostly just ‘there’. She cares for Jesus after the fact, and even when performing acts of intimacy like the oil and the kiss, she maintains a lot of physical distance- her songs touch on this as, much like Jesus (admittedly for different reasons), she actively distances herself from feelings to protect herself, so naturally she literally places distance between herself and the object of her love.

This brings me back to Last Supper, Gethsemane ( I Only Want to Say), and the kiss of death that broke all of our hearts. Throughout this segment, this is when Jesus, the man, really comes through, and it’s devastating. In Last Supper, he properly expresses the sheer amount of loneliness he feels, reiterating how he feels everyone will forget about him once he’s gone, and doesn’t really care about him as a man (”for you, my blood is not worth more than wine / for you, my body is not worth more than bread” “you will have forgotten me as soon as i give up my life”). This devolves into the disciples fighting each other and, you guessed it, ignoring him. For the first time, Jesus meaningfully lets out his anger, and as it turns to Judas, Judas does the same. Because of the set up of their complicated romantic relationship and the stakes involved, the amount of personal attacks and anger that comes out of Jesus and Judas’ repeated fights (which get physical) make complete sense- Jesus’ frustrations come from the fact that his entire fate has been predetermined and to him, Judas is just another instrument in the ways he’s been controlled (both with Judas being his betrayer, but also the way that Judas’ constant advice and interference with Jesus’ life (most obviously, the mary thing) are acted by Ola Salo as becoming increasingly frustrating to Jesus)- these frustrations are directed at their real cause, God, in Gethsemane. Judas’ frustrations come from the fact that no matter how hard he tries to help Jesus and keep him safe, Jesus keeps rejecting his efforts resulting in “all that we’ve built up [being] destroyed”- Judas’ heart hasn’t just been broken by Jesus rejecting him romantically, but on every level. Here, he’s actually shown to be the disciple most passionate about helping people practically and long term, being the only one concerned about Mary taking money which was supposed to help people, manipulated by the pharisees with the promise of doing good for the masses, and criticising Jesus for how they could be doing so much for people, ending his part of Last Supper with “every time i look at you i ask myself why you let all your things go so wrong? / all i ever wanted was to help you”.

This is also the point where Judas’ claims about the disciples are essentially confirmed, and this productions intent to portray Judas as more of a tragic hero become absolutely clear. In the english version, the disciples chorus remains virtually the same each time it appears, generally being far too calm considering their leader is about to die, revealing their aspirations to be apostles, and their intent to write the gospels to be remembered. the swedish translation still achieve this, but with variations from chorus to chorus it becomes much more poignant. i’m just going to stick to ttwo, which are choruses 1 and 3. In chorus 1, lines roughly translate to “i’ve always wanted to be an apostle / life is so nice when you’re saved/ then when we’ve got time we’ll write the gospels / then everything will be the way we want”- the apostles declaring that life is so good when you’re saved supports Judas’ opening statement that they care more about some idea of heaven than anything else, not to mention ignoring the absolute horrors that Jesus will have to go through to be saved, while the final line about the gospels introduces their intent to change whichever details they need to make ‘everything the way we want’: once again, exactly what Judas warned us of in En Dimmig Himmelsdröm. In chorus 3, taking place after Judas storms out for the last time, these lines change to “never really liked that judas / never saw what jesus saw in him / then, when we’ve got time we’ll write the gospels / and we’ll angle it so he gets all the blame”. Judas as a sympathetic character is confirmed here, as the disciples straight up admit how they don’t like Judas anyways and intend to write him as a villain (also inadvertently admitting that, since they have to write the gospels to make it look like only Judas’ fault, Judas isn’t really the sole one responsible for everything that is to come). It’s deeply unsettling, and for me was the point where I really began to question how good any of these disciples were, and by extension, how good is this production’s God if his truly sanctified followers are acting like this?

Jesus vents out all of his anger and desperation in Gethsemane. He acknowledges his own powerlessness and begs him to change the plan, but with the dark stage and no response (along with Ola Salo’s spectacular acting) it becomes clear that if anyone is there, they’re certainly not listening (”you, who have all the power / can you please change the plan / for i can already feel the pain burning in me”). It’s worth mentioning that a lot of the imagery in this swedish version is much more intense than the english, both in this song and the production as a whole. Jesus plainly calls god “thoughtless”, begging to understand, and it’s that this point we realise that he agrees with much more of what Judas has been saying than he’s been letting on- Jesus’ faith appears to be the only thing keeping him from listening to Judas and running away. Judas’ messages about people misunderstanding Jesus’ words also come out (”you care that everyone sees / but not that anyone understands”), and his eventual agreeing to die is played less as an inspiring act of faith, and more an act of desperation as he realises, he realise has no other choice. In this song, we see just how much of Judas Jesus has valued and taken on board, and that his air of carefree aloofness which frustrated Judas was, as we’ve already touched on, a complete act. The line “might as well finish what i’ve... what YOU’VE started” is absolutely miserable, reinforcing one of the major themes of this production: the idea that Jesus and Judas were both just ordinary men tormented by futures defined by forces out of their control. Just as Jesus has absorbed Judas’ logic, as an audience so we have, and it’s difficult to view the rest of the play’s events as anything other than an immense and unnecessary act of cruelty.

we’re almost done i promise!

Even knowing what Judas has/will do, Jesus still greets him with love. Judas, still under the impression that Jesus will be okay and that he’s doing what’s best, approaches him with the utmost tenderness, and the kiss is a beautiful signifier of two things. For Jesus, the return of his love for Judas shows his realisation in Gethsemane that Judas isn’t the one who’s sealed his fate and has only being trying to help, it’s god himself who has decided Jesus’ future. For Judas, the kiss shows that despite all of the anger and frustration that has been pouring out of him, he truly does love Jesus, and the way he cradles the scared and alone Jesus to his chest afterwards shows just how much he wishes he could be the one to help him and keep him close. Even with all their arguments and dysfunction, here Jesus and Judas find comfort in each other, and it almost seems like everything will end up alright. It’s in this moment that Judas and Jesus are most identifiable not as enemies, or as villain and hero, but as archetypal lovers from a Shakespearean tragedy. Neither of them set out to hurt each other, but through miscommunications, their own flaws, and external forces (both natural and supernatural), their love is simply never to be. Furthermore, in the following torture and spectacle, everything that Judas predicted for Jesus is about to come true. Another detail I find interesting is the way that Jesus and Judas both sport black nail polish, leather pants, and similar length hair: along with just looking cool as hell, the similarities really reinforce how close they are and how much they influence each other- it feels like a contemporary version of carrying a cameo or a lock of your lover's hair with you, a way for 'star crossed lovers' to keep a piece of their beloved no matter what.

The disaffected persona of Jesus, the institution, comes back as he’s taken by the authorities and subsequently insulted, degraded, and whipped. Also the swedish version of The Arrest, when the chorus starts singing questions, contains this dick joke and I think we all deserve it: “why were you dating a whore? / talk about a huge magic wand!”

Skipping forward to Judas’ Death, this is where both his character and the production’s conception of god beautifully (and miserably) align. When Judas runs to the pharisees, minor semantic changes (along with the genuine concern and great acting from Peter Johansson) reinforce that this Judas genuinely didn’t know that Jesus would be beaten and sentenced to death the way he has been, and Judas’ concern regarding how things look is played less as ‘oh no people will hate ME!’, but how having sentenced the man you love to death is one nightmarish thing, but for everyone to think you did it knowingly and willingly and then congratulate you for it is unthinkable. Where the english shows Judas’ attempting to evade responsibility for Jesus death, the swedish is more focused on Judas’ guilt, horror, and regret. The english “I’d save him all the suffering if I could / don’t believe our good / save him if I could” is swapped in swedish for “If anyone should die here I should / don’t say I’m good / better if I died”. While the english statements are somewhat empty (sure, Judas says he’d save Jesus’ suffering if he could, but he can’t so we’ll never truly know) and are still focused on Judas’ attempt to construct himself as a good guy, the swedish translation has Judas admit his guilt (even if it’s not really his fault), and make the promise of “better if i died” which, given the name of this sequence, he later delivers on. When english Judas sings “Christ, I’d sell out the nation / For I have been saddled with the murder of you”, swedish Judas sings “Jesus, I’ve been deceived / because of my act your blood’s now being spilt”, and instead of ending this first section with “I should be dragged through the slime and the mud”, swedish jesus returns to the theme of character assasination with “i will be cursed as the one behind your murder”.

The swedish translation of the next rework of I Don’t Know How to Love Him also places much more emphasis on Judas’ genuine romantic love for Jesus- we’d be here for hours if i listed everything but here are a few key contrasts. The english has Judas sing “I don’t know how to love him / I don’t know why he moves me”, whereas the swedish has Judas crying while singing “how do I show my love / all I want is to be close to you”. Along with acknowledging Judas already loves Jesus, the entirety of this segment is shifted from Judas singing about Jesus in the third person ‘he’, to a direct address. Judas isn’t performing his sadness, or venting his emotions, he’s emitting one last desperate cry to the man he loves as he sobs on a stage completely shrouded in darkness, and it’s devastating. Peter Johansson lets his voice run raw as he’s belting, and interrupts lines with sobs, and this Judas answers the question of “do you love me too? do you care for me?” with a quiet “no”- Judas is about to go to his death convinced Jesus must hate him, just as Jesus will face his knowing his love inadvertently put him there.

We finally reach Judas’ actual death, and the production’s far more ambiguous (if not negatively geared) depiction of god comes to a head. Judas’ screaming at god the moment he realises that his god essentially forced Judas to be the one to kill Jesus (an act of ultimate cruelty given their love) comes across as horrifying in it’s validity, unlike in other english language productions where it follows the more common characterisation of Judas being an unbeliever who can’t take responsibility for his own actions. When he spits on the ground, screaming “you have murdered me!”, we can’t help but agree- Judas was trying everything he could to stop Jesus from dying, and yet here he is. Most notably, Judas doesn’t set up his own suicide- a noose literally descends from the heavens, already tied, and Judas is literally trapped between the edge of the stage, and the symbol of death behind him. Much like he didn’t choose to kill Jesus, Judas has no choice in his own suicide- it’s suggested to merely be another part of the plan god has for him, and Judas raising his arms to form a crucifixion pose before he finally turns and jumps, disappearing into the depths of the theatre as the rope trails down (somewhat evocative of a leap to hell), highlight the sick joke. Much like Jesus begging in Gethsemane, a plea with god that in anyway implies fault or cruelty is met with silence followed by a death sentence.

When Judas reappears to the broken and bloodied Jesus in Superstar, he appears as more of a twisted hallucination than the literal spirit of Judas. He’s the opposite of everything he was in life, draped in colour, surrounded by red lighting instead of the signature blue, his hair quite literally let down, joking and dancing. Despite singing about him, Judas virtually ignores Jesus for the whole song except when he’s taunting him, snatching his hand away after a broken and desperate Jesus reaches out for the image of his beloved (refuting Judas’ belief that Jesus would die hating him), along with the swedish additions of Judas repeatedly addressing him as “little Jesus”. Where the living Judas was serious, sometimes harsh but always well intention, often paying more attention to Jesus than he received, this Judas is the opposite: light hearted but cruel, not caring about Jesus one bit. It’s somewhat an inversion of the beginning of JCS, where the tormented Judas was constantly reaching out to Jesus, and often met with scorn and insult (see: most of their arguments, this line from Everything’s Alright: “the thought is beautiful but quite unrealistic / yes, even quite stupid”). As the song goes on, and even as Jesus is crucified, the victorious scoring of the Superstar theme ends up reinforcing the cruelty and questioning of god distinctive of this production: Ola Salo’s Jesus is one of the bloodiest Jesus’s (Jesii?) I’ve been able to find, with blood covering his torso, his arms, and all over his face, not in passive dribbles, but violent ‘swooshes’ spreading out from his eyes, emphasising the fear and pain contained within them. As the music suggests how great and wonderful Jesus’ death is, the images straight out of a horror movie before us don’t seem to match up: as both Judas and Jesus question, if no one is understanding what Jesus is saying, why kill him? instead of making a point, you’re ensuring that the falsehoods continue to circulate, unless spreading the true message isn’t really the intent at all. or, simply that Jesus was wrong: his interpretation and teachings of god were far too kind and practical, and the true god really is the one that he briefly saw in the garden of Gethsemane, and that Judas saw before his death- a cruel and vindictive god using them for his own sick purposes. If you're a strong Christian, I'm sure you could watch this production and still believe that God was right (although I think Jesus and Judas being in love counts as blasphemy), but I think in doing so you'd lose part of what makes this production so hard hitting and, as i keep saying, devastating.

that’s pretty much it for this one! i feel like jesus and judas as a queer couple is less significant to this production than the fact that it’s specifically jesus and judas that are in love - they don’t face explicit homophobia as such, although i do think the paratextual and historical associations of queerness (both with them each looking visibly queer, and them as a couple) adds a beautiful dimension by subverting the standard christian teaching of Jesus’ sacrifice as “a love that changed the world” and making the love that truly could have been transformative (and was, to a degree) the love between Jesus and another man, not to mention the way in which queerness is often viewed as radical perfectly upholding the ‘radical’ views of god and the story of Jesus shown in the production. Why wouldn’t the love between two men be the love which has us questioning god, faith, and that which many of us have been taught since birth? Ola Salo has talked about how he’s able to be positive and negative towards christianity, along with how he wanted Jesus and Judas to really represent two sides of the same coin (’faith and intelligence’), and being bisexual along with having alluded to being raised christian (not to mention Breaking Up With God, a song by his band The Ark), it’s not surprising he’s managed to present such a nuanced and layered interpretation of Jesus Christ Superstar that even me, a trans exvangelical, can fall in love with.

UPDATE: @bands-and-hobbits has just let me know that Ola's dad was a priest! Apparently he's said that he liked the organs and the music, but that was all when it comes to christianity, which (when combined with Ola stating in interviews that the JCS soundtrack has been one of his favourite albums since he was 14) makes a lot of sense about the level of familiarity he had with the text giving him confidence to go in and make changes to really capitalised off of some of the themes that are hinted at in the english version- you have enough information to understand how everything works together, but aren't so dedicated to preserving belief that you feel you can't improve/change things (and my god are we glad he did)

#thank you if you made it this far!#also the inherent rhythm in swedish as a language just makes all of the songs sound better i'm gonna say it #english is really hit and miss when it comes to music and can get especially clunky with musicals requiring exposition #also sorry there's so much i've left out !#anyways enjoy #jesus christ superstar #jesus christ superstar swedish arena tour 2014 #jcs #peter johansson #ola salo #also i have barely edited this so i hope it's coherent

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years ago

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Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 8

Word Count: 4,412

POV: Jamie

Warnings: Language, Angst

Recap: Things were going well for our high school sweethearts, that was until a backyard BBQ party. Our reader heard Caitlyn and Sara talking about her relationship with Jamie, and what she heard didn’t sit well. Let’s see if everything will be ruined or not?

Notes: So here we are the final chapter (though there will be an epilogue). Thank you guys so much for being patient with me on this one. I fully expet that this will not get any notes or reblogs but I seriously don’t care. I know that some of you really wanted to see how this story ended and I wanted to give you that. I loved this story from the start and I wasn’t just not going to end it. For those of you that are upset that I wrote this, please refrain from coming in my inbox at me, I’ve worked over 30 hours in 2 days and don’t need your hate this week. (Also if there are typos that’s why, my proofing suffered) At any rate, I hope those of you that do read it enjoy watching the pieces all fall together. As always Happy Reading!!!

MASTERLIST

Sidenote: Also (Y/NN) = Your Nickname (Y/LN) = Your Last Name

"Hey Segs, have you seen (Y/N)?"

Tyler cocked his head back before answering you. "Really? You're not attached to her side?" You didn't feel the need to respond and instead just gave him a death glare. Tyler just clasped your shoulder and drew you close to him. "Come on Chubbs, I'm just teasing, but you haven't let her out of your sight all night. It's kind of cute." You wanted to argue, but you might have kept her in your line of vision since the moment she got here, except when she was off with Jessi. Which is who you should be looking for since that's who (Y/N) had last been talking to.

You tried to move out of Tyler's grasp to do just that, but the man continued on. "I mean it, man. I haven't seen you like this before. I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks, Seggy." Most of your teammates felt the same way. They liked (Y/N), but then what was not to like. She was smart, funny, outgoing, and beautiful, and on top of that, she was a brilliant and talented doctor. Damn, you were lucky that she had given you another chance. There was no way you were going to screw this one up.

"There she is," Tyler pointed out, bringing you out of your musings. "And there she goes." He added as (Y/N) literally headed out the front door. You were striding towards the door before you even had time to think about it. You tried to calm your racing heart, telling yourself that maybe she'd spilled something on her clothes and that she was going home to change, or that she'd suddenly remembered she'd left the curling iron on. The feeling in the pit of your stomach was saying something different though. Something felt off. It was the way she ran to the front door not making eye contact with a single person and how she shut the door, not a full-out slam, but definitely done with more force than necessary.

"Hey Jamie, how about we…" you didn't even spare Caitlyn a second glance. You all but shoved her out of the way when she tried to step in front of the door. This time you were the one slamming it shut, letting her know that she was not welcome to follow you.

"(Y/N)!" you screamed, as she was halfway in the neighbor's yard, yet she didn't turn around. "(Y/N)!" You were in an all-out run now, panic kicking in as she wasn't answering you back. By the time you reached her she was at her door ready to punch in the key code. "(Y/N) didn't you hear me?" You grabbed her upper arm, as you caught your breath.

"Leave me alone, Jamie."

It was at that moment that you were able to turn her to face you. Tears were rolling down her face. "Jesus, what's wrong?" You tried to hold her close to your chest, comfort her, but she wasn't having any of it, as she pulled free of your hold on her.

"What's wrong?" She shouted indignantly. "What's wrong, is that I never want to see you again."

Her words felt like a slap to your face, and you flinched back as if she had actually struck you. "I…I…," now was not the time to become tongue-tied. "What did I do? Tell me and I'll make it right. I swear it." You went to touch her, but she jumped back out of your reach, shrugging you off. You couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening again. You wouldn't let it happen. "Talk to me (Y/N)."

Arms crossed she stood there defiantly, her whole demeanor changing. Gone was the weeping woman from moments ago, as she seemed to turn her whole wrath on you. "I'm sick and tired of it, Jamie. Am I just some sort of game to you? Is that all I am? All I ever was?"

"What are you talking about? Of course, you're not some game." Surely, she had to see how much she meant to you and how much none of this made sense at the moment. "If you'll just tell me what happened…"

"Like you don't know. Your little playing dumb game isn't going to work this time." She shoved your chest hard, causing you to stumble back. "Now get off my property." (Y/N) took advantage of the moment, opening the door and whisking away inside. She was just about to slam it shut, and lock you out more than likely, when you pushed the heel of your hand hard against the door, stopping her. "I said leave me alone."

You ignored her protests, shoving your way inside. "It's not going to work this time. I'm not leaving. I don't care if it takes days or weeks but I'm not giving up on us this time."

A bitter scoff left her lips as she crossed the entryway and headed deeper into her home. You stalked her every move, following her to the kitchen. "You can drop the act you know. Now that I know everything there's no need to pretend."

"I'm not pretending. I don't even know what the fuck we're talking about so how could I be." You could see the anger bubbling up inside her. What or who had made her question your feelings for her was beyond you, but one way or another you were going to get to the bottom of this. "Just tell me what happened?" You pleaded yet again. "Or I'll go back over to that house and question every damn person until I find out the truth."

"The truth?" she laughingly mocked. "That's rich considering you've been lying to me."

"What the hell have I lied about?" Your brain was working overtime going through every word that you'd said to her since bumping into her on the road that day. Sure, you'd maneuvered your way into being her guide around the arena but could you really consider that a lie? Then there was Jordie and Jessi's party, you'd used it to your advantage to see her again; it was a slight deception but harmless. You didn't think either of those things would cause her to be this angry with you. "Ok, so I begged Jordie to invite you to his house because I had to see you again (Y/N). I just wanted a chance to be with you again. I didn't think you'd be this upset about it."

"You what?" You could see her processing your words, and it registered then that that wasn't the lie she spoke of. What else could it be? "So, Jordie and Jessi are in on it too? I thought she was my friend."

You knew she spoke of her developing friendship with Jess and you didn't want her questioning that. "They only did it because they know how much I cared about you. How much I still do. How much I love you." You'd held back the words the past two days, knowing that she wasn't ready to hear them just yet. Now there was no reason. She needed to know how you felt. That your feelings for her had never gone away, not even one day in fourteen years.

"Those words fall so easily off your lips. Do you even know what love is?" She spat the allegation at you and it stung like a thousand bees all descending on you at once.

"How can you say that?" You walked closer to her, and she turned away. "I loved you all those years ago, just as I do now. I never stopped. Maybe back then I was stupid to realize how much our love meant to me, but I'm not young and naïve anymore. I know you're the only one for me and if you would just look at me right now, you would see that I'm telling you the truth." Gently, you touched her shoulder urging her to turn. She did. Her eyes raising to meet yours, both shining with tears and you prayed to God she would see the love you had for her there. "I love you, (Y/N). I always have and I always will."

She sucked in a breath at your admission and you knew that somehow, someway deep down she saw the love you had for her. "I…I…" She pivoted then on her heel, walking away, catching herself on the kitchen island as she took deep gulps of air.

Carefully, as if you were approaching a timid animal, for in essence (Y/N) was just as fragile, you made your way to her. You placed your hands on her shoulders, not asking her to turn to you, but needing to touch her and comfort her in any way you could. "It's ok if you don't love me. I can wait. I'll wait as long as you need. I'm not going anywhere."

She bowed her head and you could hear her sniffle. It took everything in you to not gather her up in your arms, but you knew she'd only reject that right now. "I don't understand how you can say those things," she finally whispered. "I know you don't want me here."

"Don't want you here? Who told you that?" She shrugged and this time you twirled her to face you. "Whoever told you that, lied. I would die without you here." The laugh she gave was hollow and you knew she didn't believe you. "I'm serious (Y/N). You live two houses from me and it's too far. I want to be with you every minute of every hour of the day."

"But they said you were trying to get me fired."

Your eyes grew round like saucers and now you were the one that had anger coursing through your veins. Who would say such a thing? Who would want to destroy your happiness like this? Though none of it mattered at the moment. The only thing that did was the woman in front of you. "(Y/N), I don't want you fired. That's the last thing I want. If I could I'd have you at every practice and every game; home and away." With a tilt of her chin, you raised her head up to look you in the eye once more. "You are a brilliant doctor and the Stars are lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have you." It was the first time since this all started that her lips turned up in a slight smile, before quickly going to a look of confusion.

"But they said you went and talked to the owner about getting rid of me."

You laughed. Probably not the best thing to do at the moment considering the scowl that crossed (Y/N)'s face. "The truth is, I did go talk to Tom, but not about getting you fired. I went to see if it was possible for you to come on the road with us as well." She shook her head in disbelief. "I told you (Y/N), I don't want to be without you. I'll call him right now and he can tell you that himself." You reached into your pocket to grab your phone to do just that, though she clasped your wrist to stop you.

"No, it's ok Jame. I believe you." Silently you thanked God for this small favor. Maybe if she believed you about this, she would know you were telling the truth about everything else. (Y/N) started to pace around the kitchen, her mind working overtime again. "I know it was fourteen years ago, Jame, but it feels like it's happening all over again."

It did feel that way. "So, let's not let history repeat itself. Let's work this out (Y/N)." She stopped in tracks, then gave a small nod.

"Ok."

"Maybe we should start at the beginning." She gave her agreement, but you clarified. "I think we need to go back fourteen years."

"You think that will change anything?"

You shrugged, not knowing if it would or not, but you thought it best that the two of you get everything out in the open. "Yes, no…I don't know. It's worth a try." It would hurt opening up old wounds but maybe talking about them would finally give her a chance to heal and in turn, give you both a chance at happiness.

You blew out a frustrated breath before starting. "I know it was wrong to talk about what happened between us with Jordie. I should've just kept it between us."

(Y/N) closed her eyes and you could see the pain of what had happened written all over her face. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing like what was going around the school; I swear it." You could see she didn't believe you. Given what was said, you could see why. "Look all I told Jamie was that it was the most amazing night of my life and…" you started to blush at reveling this next part. "And I thanked him for the couple of tips he gave me." There was a smirk on her face at your admission and you could see that she wanted to ask what they were but she also knew now was not the time to get into it. "I didn't realize that Connor was in the locker room and overheard everything."

"Conner Barnhart? You mean Alyssa's brother?"

"Yeah," It was still hard to believe that (Y/N)'s brother, Justin, had married Alyssa for you remembered how much of a menace she'd been to not only (Y/N) but yourself. Alyssa had tried, on more than one occasion, after you and (Y/N) broke up, to go out with you, though you'd refused her at every turn.

"So, let me get this straight. You told Connor that you only dated me because I was easy? Did you think that would keep him quiet or something?"

"I never said that, to him or anyone."

"But then…who did?" You'd like to know the answer to that as well.

"I'm not sure. I threw Connor up against the lockers and threatened to beat the shit out of him if he told anyone. Which is how I ended up suspended for the next three days." You can still remember how pissed your parents had been when they found out.

"I thought you were sick?"

You ran your hands through your hair as you remembered the look of disappointment on your parent's faces when they were called to the principal's office. "That's what we told everyone. The principal agreed not to have it on my formal record so that it didn't hurt my chances to get into college. At the time I thought I'd be playing hockey at some university and having a black mark on my transcript might hurt those chances. So, they agreed to keep me out of school for three days. Hence, my mom not letting me talk to you when you called." It had been the longest three days of your life back then. If you only knew back then that those three days would lead to fourteen years without (Y/N), you would've done things differently. "I wrote it all in that letter to you."

"But I ripped it up and threw it away." You nodded. It had been that moment that you knew you had no hope of getting back together with her and had given up. "So, let me get this straight. The only thing Connor ever knew was that we had sex."

"And that it was amazing." It probably didn't need to be said, but you were trying to get on her good side after rehashing all these old memories.

"It was," she admitted and you wanted to add that it still was, but again the timing seemed off. "He had to have made up the rest, but why would he do that?"

"I'm wondering that myself. He didn't have anything to gain that's for sure. Though I couldn't follow through with my threat after being suspended." Though you wanted to, more than anything. If the little shithead had played hockey, instead of soccer you would've checked him so hard into the boards, that he wouldn't be playing for a least a week. It would've been worth the five-minute penalty.

"Someone obviously wanted to break us up, just the same as tonight."

"(Y/N), Who said I wanted you fired and all the rest of that shit?"

It was her turn to blush this time, though, for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. "I overheard someone say it."

You could care less about her eavesdropping, that didn't matter. "Who said it?"

"Caitlyn and Sara." Red hot anger coursed through you, at the thought of these two girls making up lies to tear you and (Y/N) apart. The scary thing was it had almost worked. You wanted to march back over there only to throw them out of your house, but you could deal with them later. Right now, the only woman that mattered was the one in front of you, who looked as though she was ashamed to have believed them in the first place. "I'm sorry Jamie. I should've never believed a word they said. I was just too blind to see that they were lying."

This time when you took her in your arms she came easily. It felt so good to just hold her again. "It's ok," you told her in a soft soothing voice while you dropped a kiss on her head. "Given our past, I can see why you were skeptical. I just hope that you can trust me going forward."

She looked up into your eyes. "I do Jamie. I trust you. I should've trusted you fourteen years ago. I was stupid to think that you would say all those things after what we had shared that night. It's my fault we weren't together all this time."

"You weren't stupid. I should've been more aware of where I was and waited to talk to Jordie at home in private. I'm just as much to blame for what happened. I just don't understand why people want to break us apart when we're meant to be together." You leaned down and dropped a kiss to her lips. It was soft and tender, reminiscent of all those years ago when you'd first kissed her. You wanted to kiss her like this every day from now until the end of time but she pulled back from it, too quick for your liking.

"I think I know who started those rumors back in high school."

"Who?"

"I need to make a call to see if I'm right." She searched her pockets then the house, looking you assumed for her cell phone. "Shit, I left it in your bedroom."

You took her hand and started for the door. "Let's go."

"No, wait. Everyone is still there and I probably look a mess, just give me five minutes to freshen up." She headed for the stairs and you followed.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight." She laughed, the sound one of the best things you'd ever heard.

It took a little longer than the five minutes she'd anticipated as you showered her with kisses every so often, but soon you were headed across the lawn and back to your house. When you saw both Sara and Caitlyn as you walked through the front door, you stopped. It took every ounce of willpower in your body to not say anything to them. Instead, you clasped (Y/N)'s hand and spun her body into yours, before stealing her breath away in a searing kiss. You heard a few cheers from your teammates as you kissed her passionately, and you were pretty sure you heard Caitlyn stomp her feet before slamming your front door shut. Good riddance.

Once you were tucked away in your bedroom, the party still going on downstairs, (Y/N) grabbed her phone to make the call she spoke about. "Hey Justin," she said to her brother. "Is Alyssa there?" He must have replied yes then went off to find her. It was then that (Y/N) put the call on speaker.

"Hey (Y/N), what's up?"

"This might sound stupid, Alyssa, but I have to ask you something. Please be honest with me."

"Ok."

"Back in high school did you start that rumor about Jamie only sleeping with me because I was easy?" You started to put the pieces together as you waited for Alyssa to answer.

There was a long pause on the other end before she said anything. "I'm so sorry (Y/N). I was young and stupid…and…god can you ever forgive me?"

You looked at (Y/N), who looked back at you. It would be her call to forgive her sister-in-law, not yours. "What's done is done," (Y/N) finally told her. "We can't change it, but why did you do it?"

"I…I wanted Jamie." You had already figured that part out and you were pretty sure (Y/N) had as well. "So, when Connor told me what he overheard in the locker room, I started the rumor. I thought if I could break you two up, that he'd want to date me. Obviously, that backfired. I'm just so sorry I hurt you both in the process."

"We all make dumb mistakes Alyssa. I just wish you would've told me sooner."

"I know. I should've said something back then or at least when I got together with Justin, but I didn't want you to hate me. Say you don't hate me, please." You could tell Alyssa was crying in the background. She was going to have a lot of explaining to do to Justin as well.

"I don't hate you." (Y/N) told her. Part of you wanted to hate Alyssa for destroying what you had with (Y/N), but then it was so long ago and what you had now with her was so much better. "But I can't forgive you right now either. It's going to take time."

"I understand," Alyssa sobbed into the phone. "For what it's worth I am truly sorry."

"I know, and thank you for telling me the truth now. We'll talk soon." With that (Y/N) hung up the phone.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," you offered by way of apology for everything that she'd gone through tonight.

"Oh Jame," she said, grabbing your hands in hers in the process. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be apologizing to you. I should've known that you wouldn't have said those things about me then or even now. Instead, I doubted us." She took both your hands in hers, then looked you straight in the eye. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive. I told you before, I'm as much to blame. It's in the past and I'd rather concentrate on our future." Taking your joined hands, you brought hers to your lips and tenderly kissed them, hoping and praying that she wanted a future with you as well.

"I'd like that too, Jame." Cupping her face, you brought her lips to yours. Downstairs, the party continued on as you could hear music and people chattering in the background, yet ensconced here in your bedroom, it felt as though you were the only two that existed in this world. You weren't sure how long the two of you stayed like that, mouths just fused together, loving one another.

"We should probably go back down," you suggested even though you wanted nothing more than to simply lay (Y/N) on your bed and make love to her until neither of you could see straight. She nodded and you both got up off the bed from where you had been sitting, though you couldn't resist kissing her one more time.

“We should probably go back down,” you suggested even though you wanted nothing more than to simply lay (Y/N) on your bed and make love to her until neither of you could see straight. She nodded and you both got up off the bed from where you had been sitting. Taking her hand, you entwined your fingers with her then headed to the door. (Y/N) stopped though and tugged you back towards her.

“Before we go down there, there’s just one more thing I have to say.” You took a deep breath, still half afraid that she was going to run and never come back this time. “You said something earlier, that I can’t get out of my head.” You tried to replay the events of the last hour over in your head but so many things were said you couldn’t be sure what she was referring to, and so you furrowed your brow in question. “You said you never stopped loving me.” It was true. If someone would’ve said that to you years ago, you would’ve laughed at them and shrugged off their comments, but the moment (Y/N) walked back into your life, you knew that she was your first and only love. You went to tell her that but she continued. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I never stopped loving you either.” A grin that would stretch across the Grand Canyon took over your face and your arms wrapped around her waist to pull her close. “I pushed so many others out of my life and I’m only realizing now, that it’s because they weren’t you. I tried to close off my heart to you when I ran into that first day in Dallas, but you managed to burst through and not give up on us, and I’m so thankful you didn’t. I know I said before that I wanted to try to give us a shot, but there’s no one else in this world for me. I love you with my whole heart and soul, Jamie Benn.”

Your heart was pounding so hard, you thought it would beat right out of its chest, but then that would be fine because you knew that (Y/N) would be right there to catch it. “I love you too (Y/N), with all that I am and so much more.” Your mouth came down on hers and though you’d kissed a thousand times before, this was one special. It spoke not only of love but of pain, of sorrow but joy, of all things that had been and all that would come tomorrow, for your future was here with her and there was no place else that you’d rather be.

#ruined the series #jamie benn #jamie benn imagine #jamie benn imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #jamie benn fanfic #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction

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haikyuuties-xo · 4 years ago

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[Haikyuu Captains] A Story based off what I'm Currently Suffering through right here, right now, at 5am. sorry if there's typos oops // also underage drinking (in some countries)

it's a sleepover with the captains from kurasuno, nekoma, fukurodani, aoba johsai, and shiatorizawa!

and it's at oikawa's house :D

so let's relax~

so i made the awful decision that i wanted to get very drunk

even though we all have to get up at 6am for practice

everyone agrees with me that it is an excellent idea

oikawa is all like "i think we have taquilla i gotchu guys"

but oikawa's parents are also sleeping right next to the kitchen ◉‿◉

would they give a fuck ?? prolly not but for the sake of the hc we gon say yes

so you all take turns sneaking out to grab a huge bottle of alcohol

"never open something, never use something completely" - oikawa's motto for keeping out of trouble

there was no taquilla tho :(

but there was various kinds of vodka and bourbon!

n bokuto brought juice :) he is very proud of his famous fruit punch

perfect for daiquiris

so we manage somehow to not be completely fucking loud

together, we clink glasses and down some fireball, vodka shots and coffee bourbon (some of which tasted like actual asshole)

"you would know what that tastes like, oikawa"

"shut the fuck up kuroo"

daichi takes it like a champ but acts all like "i can't believe I'm doing this,,, breaking the rules" as if he isn't an actual fucking alcoholic dad

kuroo downs it with no hands, smirking as he set the shot glass down on the carpet below them to appear cool but as he's actually trying to down the drink he starts choking and sputtering

bokuto pours a shit ton of his juice in w the vodka and downs it fine but can't help screaming "HEY HEY HEY" as red immediately spreads across his cheeks

oikawa drinks that shit in .2 seconds and looks at everyone like "what"

ushijima takes his in little sips after smelling the acetone-like aroma of Smirnoff. it doesn't take like the aged wine of his cow farm (oikawa routinely reminds him he couldn't give a smaller amount of fucks if he tried)

i down it in a gulp like daichi and kuroo

and i feel so incredibly light

i feel very warm and my cheeks are so flushed

but i watch as oikawa begins spouting off nonsense

"thiS cRaYoN iS giRAfFe fLaVOreD!"

he calls Iwaizumi multiple times, declaring his love for him and apologizing to him when he'd accidentally compliment how beautiful one of the other captains was

"it's okay, shittykawa, stop crying."

so i had to take his phone away

i also had to take away daichi's phone bc he kept talking about his "soon to be" ex girlfriend and brought it up in every conversation

daichi would drunkenly beg me through out the night to "pretty please" let him text his girlfriend goodnight even tho she's pissed at him for getting drunk

bokuto soon followed as he kept drunk texting akashi saying he feels like he's being used for sex (when akashi is literally downstairs because he got worried when i texted an sos)

n bokuto's dramatic af

kuroo began to relentlessly flirt with anyone else in sight

unfortunately I'm still only a little tipsy despite pouring more vodka into my cup and sipping it gingerly

and I've apparently established I'm now the sober mom friend.

because 7 shots in and I'm unaffected (?)

but i am video taping all this

ushijima began to ramble on about volleyball, not making any real sense

"oik'kwa....... youuu should've come to shi'tor'zawa."

i said, "oikawa, stop, you can't do that"

he began to cry, "I'm sorry......are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad, oikawa"

"i think you are"

"I'm not."

i quickly removed all the glasses from our spot on the ground and returned with a glass of water

"oikawa, taste this, it's really good vodka"

he looked up at me with a dopey grin and sipped it, "wow that's good vodka haha"

(it was water)

"'s not vodka, 's waterrr" slurred kuroo

"taste it if you don't believe me"

they were all falling into my trap :∆

meanwhile bokuto and daichi are still rambling on about relationship problems

finally, i was able to encourage them that I'd be fun if they all had a sleepover and laid down

they all drunkenly obliged

i began removing more obvious signs of alcohol (despite kuroo, daichi and oikawa attempting to conceal more behind them) and held hands with bokuto, oikawa and kuroo to take them to go to the bathroom or get water

then up comes akashi

and bokuto is a mess

"aaaaaagaaaashhhhiiiiiiii"

"bokuto-san..."

i looked at him with sympathy, "he's... a little... drunk."

not as shit-faced as oikawa tho js

akashi looked surprised before quickly walking over to bokuto, who desparately wanted a hug.

i escorted them out of the room, moving to focus on getting oikawa, kuroo, ushijima, and daichi into bed with some water

when i heard a retching sound at the top of the stairs

and sure enough, bokuto threw up all down the stairs

akashi lovingly grabbed paper towels and began cleaning it up, wiping a stray puke mark off of bokuto's face (sorry, gross, ik)

"how much did he drink?"

"uhm.. fireball, vodka?"

"but how much!"

"dunno, 3 shots?"

"...3?!"

akashi was greatly relieved

"akashi, take bokuto and wash him up. make sure he lays on his side and drinks lots of water. I'll clean up the rest of this mess and bring you a cold compress in a bit"

akashi nodded and thanked me

i made quick work of trying to get the puke stains out of the carpet while also checking up on the 4 stooges left in the room

when i finally returned, daichi was passed out

kuroo was scrolling through his phone, sending videos to kenma

oikawa and ushijima, however, were whispering

i ignored them and kept collecting trash to subtly remove from the room

all of a sudden, ushijima says he has to go to the bathroom

oikawa says he does too

"I'll go with you, you guys need some water"

"you don't have to come with us"

"okay, just for water"

as they headed to the bathroom i made quick work of pouring some water into the cup for them.

but they were taking a longer time than normal

as i made my way to the bathroom, the door was locked, but i could hear loud smacking noises and heavy breathing

holy shit

oikawa and ushijima were totally making out.

at last i heard them at last say "we should probably go out now"

i made quick work of quietly speed walking to the faucet

they of course complete forgot about me getting them water in their drunk state

as i reminded them, they drank. i pulled oikawa aside as ushijima made his way up the stairs

"ya know, oikawa, you could've just told me if you were gonna make out with him"

oikawa's face got beet read as we walked over to ushijima "fuck, she knows"

"how!?"

"i don't know... i thought we were being discreet"

(yeah, so descrete that i totally didn't hear you slamming each other against the bathroom door. jesus.)

finally back in the solace of Oikawa's room

i felt kinda uncomfortable sleeping next to oikawa and ushijima

so i slept on the floor

my life sucks

being the mom friend

and having high alcohol tolerance

fml <3

based on true, traumatic events 💗 pls hmu if u have recommendations of alcohol that always gets u drunk :(

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years ago

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Simply, yours (8) (M)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: cursing, mature content, angst

A/N: This one was so easy and fun to write frankly! Thank you so much for letting me know your opinions for the last chap, it motivates me like 1000x more! If you could tell me what you thought about this one as well, it would be nice! Thank you 🎉 And sorry I edited this one, but Im sure there will be typos and sentences that made sense in my head while I edited but they actually dont, apologies!

Tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @ shesdreaminginoverdose (if you want to be tagged/untagged let me know! Im always open^^)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8

Once again, you entered your apartment in silence, except the few times Baekhyun let out a tired, exasperated sigh. Your phone was blowing up with messages from your boss; honestly, you didn't understand why was he even trying to contact you after everything that happened. By now you knew you wouldn't be able to save your work spot. Not after what Baekhyun did. And here you were, worrying about not telling your darn boss about your pregnancy.

In the safety of your apartment full of love, you were able to feel. The hotness of emotions was coming back to your bloodstream, the numbness from throwing up and the adrenaline of the fight -it was all palpable in fading touches.

This time, it was you who let out a tired sigh, but you felt the burn behind your eyes yet again as you made your way to the bedroom to collect some clean clothes before making a beeline for the bathroom, ignoring Baekhyun's angry expression as you passed by him.

Before you could close the door, he murmured your name in a warning.

“What.”

“You know we need to talk, right?” he snapped, turning to you. He spotted your bloodshot eyes, full of unshed tears and he assumed you weren't seeing him properly. He was right.

You saw him blurry like a modern art painting. Pretty, yet so… unreadable, almost worrying at how you couldn't see to the depths of it. “I know.”

At your terse answer, he clenched his jaw and you blinked, letting the tears roll down your cheeks just to see the tick in his jaw, the set of his chin almost scary. “Go,” he sighed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his dress trousers. “We will talk once you're out of there.”

Without waiting for your response, he turned abruptly but to your surprise, he reached for the front door, swinging it open. You closed your eyes just in time for it to slam shut. And he was gone.

Quietly, you took a long shower, thinking he wouldn't be back until… well, until he deemed good to be back. Which could be whenever.

Honestly speaking, you never had such a big, troubling fight before. Never. Yes, you did fight, but he never left you. Not at that hour, anyway. And you were also never pregnant. So this was one of a kind problem you found yourself in, and as you tried not to sob through your entire shower, your mind instead stormed through options you had with what happened.

Except, you had none.

You were out of job.

Your boyfriend, a hapkido master, used violence on your boss.

Your boyfriend could be reported.

You lied to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend… was mad at you. Livid.

Was this the end of your relationship?

No.

He wouldn't let go of you that easily, and the realisation of that made you sob right then and there. The relationship you two shared was stronger than any of your doubts that were scaring you; it was stronger than any bad word, any bad action, because you two were more than that and your connection was stronger than that. As much as it hurt you that he left without telling you, you knew him well enough to know he would be coming back to you. You knew he would forgive you and he wouldn't break up with you. Not when you were carrying his children. Baekhyun was much, much more than an angry emotion and a protective action.

And you were pregnant with him.

Three kids. Three.

“Fuck,” you sighed as you closed your eyes under the hot water, wanting it to drown out all of your intruding thoughts.

If there was an issue you two genuinely had to worry about, it was how you would feed them and yourselves. Would you even survive bearing three children till the end? Would you survive giving birth? You were way past the first trimester which meant you were over the dangerous period, but you knew better than that. Bearing one child was a constant risk. Three? Definitely playing with fire.

Not wanting to create a huge water bill, you reluctantly turned off the shower even though your body screamed for more. Tired and aching, you dried yourself up, not bothering to put on a lotion; smells had been playing with your stomach too much and you literally despised and hated the constant throwing up game.

It was just ten minutes after your shower; you were lying in the bed, tucked in and ready to call it a day, when Baekhyun came back. His timing was perfect and it meant he didn't wander off in the dark streets to let his frustrations out. He probably went for a short walk.

Some shuffling later, he appeared in the doorway, the small lamp next to the mattress you were lying on gently illuminating your tired self. You didn't dare to look at your boyfriend, but you knew you had to do it. He was expecting you to. He was not in the place to beg for forgiveness now. If it was anyone, it was you.

Sighing, you pressed your lips together as you sat up slowly, looking him dead in the eyes; those dark eyes that had still some leftover heavy showers in them.

“Baekhyun,” you started and he kept your gaze daringly, leaning against the doorframe. When he didn't speak, you pursed your lips. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have told you.”

Silence.

“I will need more than that.” Was his cold answer.

“Don't you want to sit down?”

He was quiet for a moment, but then he crossed his arms. You knew better than to test him. When it came to irrational stuff you did, he was using the “I'm older” type of power against you, and you couldn't argue with that. “What did he make you sign?”

Once again, it was quiet. He was burning you with his scorching gaze, and you felt your cheeks heat up in complete embarrassment and self-loathing. But you needed to be honest. “I-I'm not sure if it was in the contract,” you started, trying not to stutter, “but he made me… Ehm, I was not supposed to fall pregnant. In exchange of him promoting me at work.”

As expected, Baekhyun let nothing to be read from his face. “Did you sign the contract and not read what it said?”

Please, make this stop. “Yes. But I really didn't think that-t-that-”

He spoke your name, cold and harsh, obviously upset. “You didn't think what?! Just how irresponsible it is not to read the conditions of a piece of fucking paper that can be used against you, huh?!”

Slowly, you tried to breathe. This was necessary. He had to let it out.

“You could have signed him owning you for all I know! Fucking hell,” he sighed, now running his hand through his hair wildly, turning away from you for a moment before sharply turning back, startling you. “And you just wanted to do it because what- you wanted more money? Is it all about money for you?! Since when did you become so fucking materialistic that you would stand in your own damn dreams!!!”

Tears, tears, tears, and he was completely right. Opening your mouth, he snapped.

“No, don't speak! I don't want to hear it right now! Fuck,” he murmured, and paced in front of you, his jaw set strong. “You weren't even pregnant when it all happened, why would you want to get to more money so badly?!”

“I wanted to provide for us as well!” you shouted back now, but your voice was so shaky you felt like you sounded pathetic. He had to know, though. “We are coming from a low-class background, Baekhyun! Why is it so bad for me to want to do more when I am perfectly able to do so?”

“Because you would have ruined your own dreams while chasing something so artificial!” he shouted back, stepping closer to where you were sitting, but you didn't budge from the sudden movement. “Money was, and money will be! But us creating a family together won't be a forever opportunity! And you were willing to just hang it up for, what, 300.000 won more? Don't be ridiculous! Plus! He is a fucking arsehole! If he isn't touching you up, he is treating you like complete shit; you deserve better than any of this! And if I could have, I would have beaten him up long ago.”

You averted his gaze. His words were driven by his love for you, you knew that much. So as much as you wanted to be offended and hurt, he was hundred percent right. Everything he just threw into your face was correct and you couldn't defend yourself, because he would come at you right away.

“Is this really everything our relationship means to you?” he asked, a bit more quietly, but his tired tone was scarring your heart. You dared to look back at him, to see him staring on the ground, one hand on his hip.

“No,” you said and you cried again, “it isn't and you know it, too.”

“Do you think I am incapable of taking care of us? Of the kids?” he looked at you, huge puppy eyes on full display as he slowly let his guard down. “Because all of this just proves you don't trust me as the breadwinner of this household.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your arguments, but ended up going against it. “Baekhyun, we aren't in a situation where I need to stay home, clean and do nothing while you get to earn money as if it was some easy thing to do. I am, and I will continue to work,” you replied resolutely despised tears rolling down your cheeks, “and it isn't you as a breadwinner, but us.”

The society surely was patriarchal, so if you dared to talk to your father in this manner, he would have slapped you. There was no such thing as a woman who got to go against her husband or brother.

Baekhyun, however, wasn't your father or your brother. He wasn't even your husband, and when you saw his troubled look, he finally let himself sink down on the mattress. He was your kind, loving boyfriend. “I already said this,” he started, “but I am not, and I won't keep you inside the house, locked up, while waiting for me to return to you after work. I won't tell you what to do, you know I never did,” he said in a more friendly manner, but it still beared authority. “I respect you as a woman,” he said, speaking your name softly, “and you are my everything.” His hand reached out to caress your cheek that was still wet from your tears. “I need to see you only smiling, happily, but I cannot accept you lying to me like this again. I thought we had been together long enough for us to earn each other's trust, and you going like that behind my back and signing bullshit was nothing but stupid and irresponsible. Especially because your pregnancy was jeopardized like that. You can't be under stress like that, sweetie.”

Hearing him calling you a pet name, you knew the war was over and he finally was on the positive side. His authoritative voice still kept you on edge, so you didn't throw yourself at him just yet.

“If he kicked you out, which I'm pretty much convinced he did, I wouldn't be against you not working until you give birth.”

“Baekhy-”

“Shh, let me speak, honey,” he said quietly and shuffled himself closer, sitting right opposite you cross-legged as he took your hands in his. “Listen. I know you know it, but having three babies under your heart is a dangerous situation,” he whispered loudly, bringing your intertwined hands to his lips. “It's dangerous especially for you. You are very tired after work, and you come home late and don't get enough rest. Sukyeong even told me you don't always keep up with your meals, and I don't like it one bit.” The way his lips moved against the skin of your hand was soothing you. “Accept that he threw you out, before I file a lawsuit against him for harassing you and making you sign nonsense contracts, and stay home. Find a part-time job instead, but you need to rest, darling.”

“Baekhyun,” you finally spoke and he hummed, as he let your hands fall to his lap. His eyes were now so gentle and full of worry. “I am so sorry. For everything. I shouldn't have done any of that, but please know I did it with good intentions.”

Baekhyun went silent for a bit, analysing your face, your tired features and pale skin, which only reminded him you had been throwing up today and dealing with the situation in the restaurant. Suddenly, he felt so guilty for making you go through all of it in just one evening, (although you were responsible for it, too). Let alone he just shouted at you for good ten minutes. He couldn't even imagine what other things you must have been feeling the past weeks, given how your body was changing day by day. “It's alright, babe, it's alright. I understand. C'mere,” he whispered, opening his arms and you threw yourself at him, making him almost fall back on his back. You snuggled your face into his neck, and he let out a satisfied breath, caressing your back gently. “I'm sorry for shouting at you. But I'm not sorry for punching that idiot. He deserved it.”

You were looking at the skin on his neck and how it disappeared under his shirt that had the first two buttons undone. “Thank you for standing up for me, honey.”

“My baby,” he murmured lovingly into your hair before he gave it a kiss. “My only baby.”

You woke up to slow, gentle caresses on your small belly as your shirt was ridden up just a tiny bit, Baekhyun not wanting to wake you just yet. He was behind you, wanting to spoon you as soon as he washed up and fell in bed next to you last night. It didn't take long for both of you to fall asleep, as surprising as that was. The events tired you out, and he wanted you to sleep as much as you could.

He kissed your clothed shoulder before he nosed your neck and buried his face in your hair, while his caresses didn't stop. Letting his eyes close for a moment, he brought his front just a little closer to you, his leg wrapping around yours that were politely connected. His hand absentmindedly wandered further up before going dangerously low, sending shots of pleasure down your core without even paying attention. You knew he would soon realize his effect on you, because you definitely felt like squirming in his hold.

His hand lazily dragged upwards almost touching the underside of your breast when you couldn't keep it in anymore, breathing in sharply just for his hand to stop right under the-

“Oh, I finally have you awake,” he murmured, his husky voice sending another set of chills down your spine.

You couldn't help but smile, happy you woke up to this. The fluid down there was saying something else, though.

“Slept well?” he murmured into your ear, as he continued dragging his hand up. You groaned softly when he groped your breast as he pushed himself even more into you, and you felt it. He was so ready for you.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, enjoying the massage as he proceeded to nibble on your ear from behind, your eyes closed in pleasure. “You?”

“I realised we didn't keep our promise, babygirl.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when your realised what he was implying.

“So, is my beautiful lady still horny enough to go the remaining two rounds?” His voice was so deep, you felt yourself scrunching your eyes shut, the adrenaline quickly making its way into your bloodstream. “We will take it,” he murmured and this time his hand was going down, down, down, the panties the only barrier from his wandering hand as he lifted the hem of them teasingly, testing just how ready you were for him, “very slowly, my dear.”

His fingers played with you just for few seconds before he pushed his middle finger inside, your mouth opening in a silent moan as you leaned back into him.

“It's so early, but you are already like this,” he continued while your head was swimming, his ministrations nothing short of slow, yet so pleasurable, “all for me.”

Your insides were squeezing painfully, and he wasn't moving faster, nor did he have the intentions. “Baekhyun,” you said, trying not to pant too loudly, “I just want you.”

“Hmm? Speak louder, I'm still sleepy.”

“You're such a tease,” you whispered in disbelief before surprising him by reaching behind you to touch him exactly where he needed you. He hissed, his eyes looking at your profile to see the smirk you had on your face.

“I wanted it to be slow, romantic and all of that,” he mumbled before pushing your hand away while he sat up, causing you to fall on your back. As soon as his hand was out of your panties, you felt a pang of frustration before he covered your body with his, his face close to yours as you tried to calm down from him fingering you so sensually.

“I want none of that,” you replied as you grabbed his face for a heated kiss, “I want you inside me, just about now.”

“Needy, naughty…” he muttered with a flirty smirk as he teased you at your opening, causing both of you to groan. “Are you ready, sweetie?” And he still made sure you were okay with him.

“I'm always ready for you,” you whispered, spreading your legs even more for him, as he pushed himself in, your eyes instantly closing in wonderful pleasure only he was able to give you.

He stayed inside, buried and panting into your hot mouth as he rested his forehead on yours. “Sweetheart, open your eyes for me, hm? I love you, you know that?”

“I know that. And I love you, do you know that?” you reciprocated, smiling up at him only to be rewarded with his smiley eyes as he pushed back before diving right in few more times, where he hit your sweet spot. Moaning loudly, he dragged his face to suck on your neck before he took one of your hands, intertwining them with his as he pushed it up above your head.

“I know that. You are my angel,” he said, finishing it with a guttural groan as he felt you pulsing around him, knowing you were about to cross the edge and he was not far behind you. “Come for me. We have another round,” he breathed before kissing you passionately, messily, moanily.

You mentioned you wanted none of slow. And in the second round, he gave you just that. Baekhyun became ruthless, just before whispering: “Are you riding?” And he was fast to change positions. He helped you straddle him although you definitely had the energy to move and climb by yourself, given your crazy hormonal drive.

“That was just a warm-up session.” He warned, not waiting for you. Your screams, his groans, the heat, it was all so fucking amazing you were left in a complete bliss. You were fast to catch up to him, moving your hips while he was watching from beneath you, eyes dark, glazed over and completely smitten by you.

“You're the best,” you breathed out as you dragged your hands to you breasts, but Baekhyun wanted none of that. He swiftly sat up, his chest almost pressed to yours while you continuously rode him, up and down, your hands being pushed aside just to be switched with his as he added his sinful lips to the swell of your breasts.

“You're a goddess, mummy,” he muttered, leaving a wet trail on your chest while his hands squeezed and massaged your mounds.

“Baekhyun!” you scolded, and despite the sweat and the delightful pull in your belly approaching yet again, you blushed; the blush definitely caused by his choice of words.

He looked into your eyes, his ones proud and lustful. “It's true,” he muttered, groaning as you sank down exceptionally hard, almost falling onto his sturdy chest. His hands were now squeezing your sides, helping you out, unable to keep the needy touches to himself when you looked so gorgeous like that. He squeezed your arching body to his sweaty chest.

A quick glance at your swollen belly that he made sure you noticed, his hand came to touch against it and you were gone. He caressed you there gently while swallowing your moans as you grabbed his face, kissing him, your hair falling, creating an intimate curtain just around where your mouths were connected. You still had an unearthly energy to help your boyfriend out to his orgasm, not wanting to be in the ecstasy alone, and as much as Baekhyun needed the release, his hands slid across your sides, holding your hips to stop their movement.

“Enough, baby girl,” he whispered into your mouth, leaning back ever so slightly to see your flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead. “I don't want you to hurt yourself.” He was still panting and you swore to god he looked so handsome with his hair glued to his forehead, puffy cheeks. You might have gotten horny again.

“Come with me,” you insisted, attempting to to move again but he bit his lip, a cheeky glint in his eyes, and he held your back tenderly, moving you to lie on your back, while slipping out of you. Hissing, he stood up quickly.

“I'll be right back.”

Trying to calm your breath, you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling in your aching body. A knowing smile played on your lips; Baekhyun would rather get a cold shower then another orgasm from you, just because he was worried about you. If that wasn't some darn good self-control, you didn't know what it could be.

Just as he promised, he was back soon, a towel in his hands to help you clean up. Once done, he lied back down next to you and you immediately curled up by his chest. “That was amazing.”

“Hmm, you are amazing,” he said. After a little pause, he asked: “You feeling alright?”

“Perfect. But I could go again, you know? You don't have to be so careful with me.”

He snorted as he played with the ends of your hair. “Jeez, you already have my baby! Actually three of them! Slow down, woman.”

You both laughed heartily, and he loved the sound.

“But I want to have youuu, my love,” you whined.

“You have me. You always have me. I'm yours. I'm just simply yours.”

A/N: just to clarify, this isnt the end, we still have quite some things to get through actually - more drama ㅠㅠ! Just didnt want to leave you on a cliffhanger. Hope you liked this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Any feedback is very much appreciated 🥺 🥺

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fic #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun imagine #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo fluff #exo au #baekhyun au #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #kpop au #my writings

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aseriesofunfortunatejan · 4 years ago

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So I’ll say it here again since this is very much my fandom blog - I’m not hyped about the Great Ace Attorney coming to the West, not because I have any problem with the game (never played or watched it) but literally just because Sherlock Holmes with a typo is in it.

The very name “Sherlock Holmes” fills me with dread. I re-read the novels back to back in Summer 2019 and I still feel the exhaustion. I’ve read so much canon Sherlock Holmes, so many adaptations, watched or played so many adaptations too, I’ve had ENOUGH of Sherlock Holmes. Love the guy but from far away. I think I can say (jokingly) that I relate to Conan Doyle on a personal level. If I were him, I would also kill Holmes off and try to ignore his angry fans for as long as possible.

I don’t care whether he’s in anime form or in one of my favourite game franchises (namely Ace Attorney) - I don’t want Holmes in my life. Not right now. Give me more time. Please, I’m begging you

This isn’t an Ace Attorney rant this is a Sherlock Holmes rant. Thanks for tuning in.

#ace attorney #sherlock holmes #herlock sholmes #?#personal #random #lighthearted

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banashee · 5 years ago

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17 - Home alone

Clint is pacing back and forth in his apartment. He knows his steps must make at least a bit of noise, but he can't hear it.

When he wakes up that morning (early, way too early) he does so with a start and a strangled yelp on his lips which he is unable to hear then, too. His heart is beating too fast, and he's shaking, sweating. Slowly, he reaches out for his hearing aids on the bedside table, fumbles them in and switches them on. They pick up the low noises from the street, cars driving by, howling sirens. It helps him a little to come back to reality, to even out his breathing.

But then, glass is breaking and a man starts yelling down on the street, causing Clint to flinch violently and rip out his hearing aids again.

A low noise must be escaping his lips, and he's glad that no one is around to hear.

He almost flinches again when something is touching him, but it's soft and heavy on his back, and then a long wet tongue is affectionately slobbering all over his ear, and he can smell the dog treat breath near his nose. It's Lucky, and he relaxes a bit, stroking one of the paws that made its way around for him to reach.

Clint concentrates on the weight and the heartbeat on top of him, trying to calm down his breathing. The dog nudges him a little, as if to say, “I'm here, I'll help.”

When Clint manages to breathe better, he gently pushes Lucky off of him, but he keeps stroking his soft golden fur in the process, lets him lick his face and then Clint heads into the kitchen to give the dog his breakfast and to make some coffee for himself.

He doesn't remember the last time he's eaten something. When was the last neighbor BBQ again? Friday night, right? So that was roughly two days ago. He's not hungry.

Clint drinks another cup of black coffee, staring ahead on the wall by the breakfast bar. Now that he thinks about it, his last shower must have been a while ago, too. Too much work, too little energy.

He sighs and runs a hand through his shaggy blond hair – it feels greasy. He drinks another coffee and Lucky presses his head against his leg.

It takes him a while to get up and force himself into the bathroom.

Clint avoids the look into a mirror at all costs and slowly undresses himself. When he turns on the shower, he waits for it to get warm. His energy has left him by the time it does. He sits down on the edge of the bathtub for half an eternity, then shakes his head to get up and under the spray of water.

(Useless. Wasteful.)

Only, it's turned ice cold again by now. Clint curses all the way through washing up, getting it done as quickly as he possibly can, and by the time he's out and dressed again, his energy runs lower than before.

He ends up falling asleep sitting on the tile floor, head propped up against the bathtub behind him.

When he wakes again, he startles from a nightmare and he can already feel a wicked crick in the neck. Clint curses and pulls himself up from the floor. It hurts more than it should, but he steps out of the room.

All he wants is to curl up on the couch with Lucky and hope it'll get better on its own. But the dog isn't there. Instead, there is a short note taped to his kitchen table.

Hi Hawkeye,

Sorry I don't have more time, but you are in the shower right now, so. I'm out of town for a bit, Lucky is with me like we agreed. We'll be back soon, see ya!

Kate

it says in her handwriting. Clint blinks at it, confused. He must have forgotten about that. What day was it again? He checks his calendar on the wall, and yes, it says it right there.

He feels incredibly stupid, but he already misses Lucky. His day so far has been utter crap (let's be real, so have the last few months) and this ridiculously wonderful mutt really, really helps. But now he's gone, too.

Clint sighs unhappily. His phone lights up next to the note, and it's a message from Barney. Chances are that his brother is drunk off his ass right now, so Clint opens it cautiously. The text is full of typos and it proclaims how sorry he is for everything, that he misses him and loves him.

It leaves Clint numb and unfeeling, but later that day he spends about an hour crying over a fucking commercial, who knows what even for, but there is a happy, smiling family with your stereotypical 2.5 children and a big, cheerful dog.

Depression is strange like that.

Clint passes out on the couch, and when he wakes up, he has no idea what day it is – it's dark out, but his phone tells him that it's still the same shitty day, later in the evening. He scrubs his face with one hand, looks around him. There is something out of place on his kitchen counter. Something new. A bright blue plastic container. He frowns, gets up and steps closer. A small note sticks to the lid, and he reads through it.

Hi Clint,

This is leftover lasagna, enjoy. You were asleep when I came by, didn't want to wake you up.

I hope you're okay.

Simone

Bless Simone and her good heart. He makes a mental note to thank her later, and maybe bring something nice for the kids, too – they always appreciate it, and they do way too much for him, anyway.

There is a lump in his throat, and a gaping hole in his growling stomach. He puts the food in his microwave and eats dutifully. It makes him sick later, but that's okay. It's not Simone's fault that everything tastes like ash to him right now. If she asks, he'll lie and say it was great.

When he's done heaving into the toilet, he feels hick neck prickling, and the tell-tale panic in his guts.

He bolts out of the bathroom, stumbling with shaking legs, tremors in his hands, rushing through the apartment, searching every corner.

No one is there. No threat. Nothing.

He puts his hearing aids back in while his brain still runs crazy.

'You keep passing out when you can't even hear shit. Anyone could walk in at any time and you won't know. You're lucky it was only Kate and Simone earlier. You'll be useless kicking anyone's ass when they sneak in and overpower you! Stupid, weak! Waste of space!' His mind is screaming at him.

And Clint paces again, keeps shaking his head, trying to calm down his breathing.

His phone keeps ringing, but he ignores it. It turns over to voice mail, and it's Barney again. He's slurring badly, and he sounds like he might be on the verge of tears, as he begs Clint to call, he's so sorry. When Barney starts retching, the call ends abruptly and Clint closes his eyes, sliding down on the wall and stays seated on the dusty, wooden floor.

He wishes, his dog was here. But no one is around, so Clint manages to get up, go to the couch and curl up there, hugging a cushion close to his chest in an poor attempt to mimic company. He laughs out loud at that, but even to him it sounds sad and pathetic.

When he wakes up, the sun is high in the sky, so some amount of time must have passed. Also, his ears feel gross since he fell asleep with his aids in, but there wasn't anyone in his apartment, as far as he can tell. Clint want's to look on his phone, but it's dead.

He stares at the landline on the wall.

'Don't do it, it's not worth it!'

He gets up and steps closer.

'You're just lonely you idiot! Do. Not. Call. Your. Brother.'

But he does.

Barney picks up after a few rings, barking “What the fuck do you want?!” into the phone.

Ah, so he's sober today. Great.

“You called me first. And texted.” Clint replies flatly and Barney scoffs, “Bullshit!” and then he hangs up again.

It's like a punch in the guts. Just more painful. Clint doesn't know what he expected but he feels ('Stupid! Stupid! Useless!') and then he realizes that there are tears burning in his eyes.

Cursing, he hangs up violently enough for the phone to fall back down, but he doesn't care and just crawls back into bed.

He really wishes Lucky was here with him.

He sleeps restlessly, and with more than one panic attack interrupting him.

The next two days are so bad, that he can't even get out of bed.

Clint is in a constant state of questioning why he's even alive, shaking and clawing on the sheets, drenching them in sweat, tears and snot. It's probably a good thing he's too tired to do anything, or else he would have found some some sort of tool to end it.

He doesn't.

On the third day, he manages a shower and a cup of coffee with some dry crackers because his stomach is revolting by now.

Water. Would be a good idea, probably. So he forces himself to drink a bottle, too.

Then his pager sounds. Avengers Assemble, and so he suits up, packs his bow and heads to the rooftop, just in time for Iron Man to pick him up – literally. He swoops by and Clint holds on, long used to this way of transportation.

“Hey Clint.”

“Hey man. What are we going to shoot at?”

“Doombots. Again.”

“Aw. At least they're satisfying to blow up.”

“Sure are, once we know the latest shit update Doom gave those little fuckers. You look awful by the way, are you okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” but it comes out pressed and flat. He can't see Tony's face behind the helmet, but he just knows he gives him a look.

But then they're busy fighting annoying killer robots, and it's the most alive Clint has felt in weeks.

When all is said, done and wrapped up, he's being dragged along along to the tower for one of their ��Yai, we live another day”-parties. Clint plasters a smile on his face and it feels awfully fake. It probably looks just as bad.

But Clint tries to keep up chatting with his team mates, putting up a happy appearance which he hopes can fool people at least a little bit. It probably doesn't work, because they're starting to hover.

“You okay?” they ask, and he nods, smiling just a little bit brighter, joking and claiming he's just a bit tired.

Clint leaves rather quickly, sneaking out of the tower as soon as he's got a chance.

Back home, he drops his cheerful facade because keeping it up is exhausting. He skips the shower, even though he knows he's going to hate himself for it later. What else is new.

Clint burrows into the couch and wakes up to Natasha sitting on his coffee table, calmly cleaning her guns.

“Hey, Nat.” he rasps, and she looks up.

“Hi. Anything you wanna talk about?” she asks lightly, but it doesn't fool him. She's worried.

“No.” he replies hoarsely, and forces himself upright.

“Go shower. I'll have food here when you're done.” she instructs, and it's easier to just obey. Nat gently squeezes his arm when he walks past her.

Shower. Get dressed. Walk back out. Face potentially uncomfortable talk. Great. He's got this.

Natasha has moved to his couch in the meantime, and when he sits down next to her, his leg keeps bouncing up and down. Clint doesn't say anything, just stares right ahead into nothingness. His vision gets foggy again, and he faintly notices that Natasha puts the cup of soup she was offering him on the table and folds herself down on the floor in front of him, running a gentle hand through his hair until he slowly leans forward, into her touch until they sit in an embrace.

It would be so easy to give in and let go, but he holds himself back. The human contact feels good, tho. It's been too long.

Still, he pulls away when he realizes that he's going to have a complete breakdown if Nat hugs him for any longer now. Clint manages to pull himself together, holding onto threads at this point.

“Don't lie to me right now. How not okay are you, Clint?” Natasha asks quietly.

“I don't know.” he shakes his head slightly.

He could tell her about days spent in bed, wanting to die but feeling too tired to actually get up and do something about it. Clint figures she knows or at least suspects that.

“Things are fuzzy right now. I'm... I don't know how to explain it. But I'll be fine, I'm always fine.”

He can only hope that this will be true – it's getting harder to actually be fine lately. Natasha looks at him with concern and something... soft in her eyes as she keeps her hands placed on his knees. She doesn't come closer since he's pulled away, but she refuses to leave him alone and he loves her for it.

“You don't have to be fine all the time. I'm here. You've got me, the team, Kate... We're all very much willing to help you, if you'll let us. But we don't know how.”

“Can you stay with me for a little bit?” he asks, too silently for his own hearing aids to pick up but Natasha nods.

“Of course.”

She sits back down next to him on the couch, handing him the now lukewarm cup of soup and a bottle of water. Then she turns on the TV, filling the room with something light and brainless. Natasha settles against him, letting him choose how much physical contact he wants. Clint puts an arm around her and rests his head on top of her bright red curls.

Some time later, the front door opens and a second later he's greeted by a lapful of dog, and Lucky excitedly slobbers all over him.

“Hey Pizza Dog.” he says softly, burying his hands in the soft, golden fur and he can't help the small smile.

Lucky looks up at him, tail wagging and his one eye fixed at his human with an open mouthed doggy smile on his big, fluffy face.

Kate follows, and flops down onto the couch on Clint's other side with a “Hey Hawkeye” and grins when she gets the same words back as a greeting.

Something eases in his chest, and Clint pulls her close, too.

“What's up with the sappiness?” she asks, half jokingly, taking in her friends appearance – pale, eye bags, too much stubble, lost weight.

“Deal with it, Katie.” he grumbles goodnaturedly and she huffs but squeezes him in a tight hug.

“Yeah, whatever. Missed you, too. Hi, Nat.”

Clint leans back. There is still the heavy darkness inside of his head, and he's not sure if or how or when he can get rid of that. Or at least get a better grip on it.

But right now, with two of his best friends by his side and with his beloved dog sprawled out on his lap, drooling all over his sleeve while he pushing hid head into his stomach in an attempt to get even closer, Clint thinks that this car crash life of his looks a lot more bearable again.

*+~

OK so I know I've posted part 16 last night and it's like 6:40 in the morning on the 17th where I am now, but in all honesty, this story is one of my, if not THE favourite of all the stories I've written for KeGo. So I'm kinda excited for it to see the world because I'm kinda, super proud of it? I hope you like it, too.

*+~

About the KeGo https://banashee.tumblr.com/post/189288814786/keep-going-december-kego

Also, go check out @bananaink she is the other mastermind behind KeGo ♥

Go show her some love because she’s great ♥

Check out my AO3 while you’re at it ♥

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21829720

#kegodecember #kego december #banashee writes #marvel fanfiction #hawkguy #mental health issues #tw suicidal thoughts #tw depression

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daddycardan · 6 years ago

Note

Hi would u like to do some Jurdan prompt? After the QoN synopsis there’s so much to imagine

omg i wrote this thing really quickly i hope there are no embarrassing typos and grammar mistakes in it. this is probably the quickest hc i’ve ever written, eventho it still took like an hour, and also just sayin that i still hate taryn with all my heart but i can’t deny the twin vibe is very catchy

Jude lies draped over the couch, still in her streetwear

Balenciaga shoes she bought the other day from Vivi’s enchanted money

Airpods in her ears, listening to Killer Queen

Phone in her hand, scrolling through Instagram registering all the likes she got on her recent post without any particular interest

She basically got over this nonsense faerie shit and is living her best life

Vivi walks in, a wide smile on her face as she hops down on the couch and drapes her arms around Jude’s shoulders

She was never particularly huggy so this sparks a hint of suspicion in Jude

She can see her mouth forming words but she can’t make out what she’s saying

“WHAT.”

“I SAID TAKE THOSE FUCKING AIRPODS OUT,” Vivi shouts through the music

She takes them out, already grumpy at her sister

“What.”

“We have a little surprise here,” Vivi squeaks with overplayed excitement

“Umm. Cool. What is it?” Jude holds back a yawn

“Oh don’t try to play it cool,” Vivi smacks her shoulder, dragging her up on her feet. “It’s in the kitchen. I bet you will be VERY surprised!”

Jude rolls her eyes in silent disagreement, but stops protesting and makes her way to the kitchen with Vivi in her back

It is their third sister, Taryn standing beside the counter

Very awkwardly

She is dressed in a long green gown, barefoot, with bracelets of braided flowers around her wrists—so obviously out of place that it hurts Jude’s eyes

“Jude,” she says sweetly and goes for a long, warm hug

Against her better judgement, Jude swallows her bile and hugs her back

Her twin’s touch feels foreign and offensive and it scares her

Just how much have they drifted apart from each other?

When she looks at her pure, rosy face she sees tears in her eyes, and already knows that something is wrong

Taryn wouldn’t just show up for the sole reason of visiting her beloved sisters

She is up to something, and this realization makes Jude’s stomach lurch

“Oh gosh, I haven’t seen you in ages, you two have no idea for how long I’ve dreamt of a reunion like this” Vivi starts chattering, completely oblivious to the fact that Taryn looks completely destroyed despite her natural loveliness and that Jude is as hostile as she’s ever been

As Vivi starts making coffees, Jude and Taryn lock glances as they both descend to their seats on the opposite sides of the kitchen table

As they stare at each other, despite all the hatred and betrayal, Jude senses a deep, mutual agreement between the two of them

Taryn hasn’t said a word yet, but Jude already knows that something went wrong in Faerie

She sees a familiar, fierce glint in her eyes and realizes that it’s as though she’s looking into a mirror

“I’ll go to the toilet, I’ll be back in a sec,” Jude says suddenly, pushing back her chair and heading towards the bathroom

It doesn’t take half a minute for Taryn to follow

They lock the door and stare at each other once again for a silent moment

“What happened?” Jude asks finally, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub

Taryn’s lips press together into a straight line as she’s trying to hold her tears back, but nevertheless, they roll out onto her cheeks

Jude doesn’t comfort her but she listens carefully to her story about Locke being an ignorant and scandalously unfaithful husband

About Locke’s backhanded compliments about Taryn’s mortality, Taryn’s sensitivity, Taryn’s fragility

The way he makes soft jokes about the fact that Taryn is going to grow old and ugly

And that he might grow bored of her in time

The way he takes complete strangers into their bed, as though he is trying to trigger her

And that he discusses their private life in court as though it was nothing more special than the weather

By the end of the story, Taryn breaks down entirely, crying her heart out and using toilet paper to wipe her tears

“Please Jude, don’t tell me you told me so, I don’t want to hear this from you,” she sobs. “I can’t do this anymore, I feel like with every lonely day I spend in that godforsaken manor I lose a little bit of myself. I am becoming his creature, I am wasting away. Please, Jude, I beg you, do something, do anything! I can’t do this alone. I have no one but you.”

Jude sniffs once, considering

“Jude, you must—“

“Do you realize that you have been the biggest bitch in the entire universe?” Jude says abruptly. “When I needed help, when I was wasting away you literally had no fucks to give. When I was being played with and used as a pawn by Locke, you had no fucks to give. When I was hunted in the woods like an animal, shot in the leg and almost murdered by Locke, you had to fucks to give. You schemed behind my back for my disadvantage and betrayed me, not once but twice. So at this point, dear sister, I don’t have any obligations. I am not supposed to give any more fucks than you did, right? This is but fair.”

At this, Taryn buries her face in her hands and continues weeping, her shoulders shaking, her entire body burning with shame

She obviously cannot say anything that would excuse her actions, so she plays the victim, Jude registers

Jude genuinely doesn’t much feel like helping her, but that little glint of revenge she saw in the opportunity didn’t let her back down

“But,” she continues, her voice a tone softer, “I hate Locke just as much as you do, if not more. And eventhough I did not wish to get into the business of faeries again, I might have changed my mind.”

Taryn goes quiet, slowly raising her face from her hands, staring at Jude red-eyed

“I will help you, but on my own conditions. You can decide whether you want my help or not, but I will not change my approach.” She falls silent for a moment. “We kill him.”

Taryn looks shocked and she stands unnaturally still, gaping at her twin

But then Jude notices the same heated gleam in those innocent eyes that she saw on herself when she looked into the mirror, sick and feverish from the poisons she once took

She looks at Taryn and sees her own soul in her eyes

A slow smile spreads on both their lips

#tcp headcanon #qon #qon theories #tfota headcanon #cardan isnt even mentioned in this what am i doing with my life #this was enough taryn-vibe for me for now #twk headcanon #jude duarte #taryn duarte #locke #i hate locke so much i can’t breathe

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