#also they both wear blue in the last scene

[tinderbox210]

Noa and Mae + bonding

From Mae taking something important representing the bond between apes and eagles/clan from Noa, to Noa freely giving something important that's representing the bond between apes and humans to Mae.

[deconstructthesoup]

One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.

From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.

Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.

Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.

When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.

You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.

Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.

Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?

Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.

And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.

The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.

So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!

[kroosluvr]

temptation

i lowkey have too many notes to write down properly KDFHKDS but ill write them down for Future Cele so i can read it later and be like omggg past cele ur so fun and interesting

in general, the more "color" the scenes have, the closer it is to "real life" as opposed to the muted/hushed winter blues of maruki's reality

i.e. the dark frames w akira smiling and the very last panel are when reality sinks in: first for akira, then for goro

by the way this is long winter au but sumire is still brainwashed. this also works for canonverse but i just had long winter au in mind:o

youve heard of laundry and taxes now get ready for coffee and pastries

in every panel, akira is smiling! :) and goro is very much not smiling.

intentionally his face is hidden in the last 2 pages so its unclear whether it's the "ideal reality" already (akira/goro's daydreams/wants/desires), or if goro is still fighting akira on making sure he picks the right choice

the smoke from the first page kinda leads into the 3rd page omfg COMPLETELY UNINTENTIONAL BUT REALLY COOL LMAOOO

that's nameless and belladonna in jazz jin!!! i love them. I LOVETHEM. i miss them so bad is it obvious

the cafe is loosely based off of caffe strada @ uc berkeley LMAO. my parents used to take me there a lot as a little kid so that's the first cafe i think of when i imagine one. its like right on the streetside, basically on the sidewalk, so its very bustling and people are always walking by... probably a little disconcerting to see everyones summery bright smiles despite the bitter cold and snow

in long winter AU, the Ideal Reality starts before 1/1 so yeah they get to see the new years fireworks together (or something)

also intentional that they wear the same winter outfits in the whole comic although it Probably does not take place at the same time. in maruki's snowglobe, time seems frozen in place... but akira and goro are both acutely aware that the sands are running thru QUICK

goro's frustrated expression on page 3 is one also of disdain: "don't speak FOR me you fucking imbecile" type of expression.

goro, who's never lived a normal life and therefore doesn't know much abt "normalcy" nor really actively seeks it. this 3rd semester is basically purgatory for him and he doesn't care to try and go through the motions the way akira does. akira what do YOU know about the type of "normalcy" i deserve? how do YOU know if i "deserve" that?

im thinking that this is a naive akira who is mostly set on taking the deal because he feels hopeless... seeing all his friends with good happy lives while goro and himself are alive and miserable and shouldering the weight of the world during the horror of long winter......

oh but if he takes the deal they could all be good and alive and happy!!!.... and goro knows this. i feel like in any other universe (i.e. akira is 100% certain on not taking the deal and goro knows this) then goro would be happy and carefree to do these little indulgences for himself and akira's sake, to just enjoy the snowglobe world while it exists.

but this goro is discontent. he sees how akira is enjoying the snowglobe and knows maruki is depending on this. goro has to be the one to remind akira that none of this is his to keep........ in this fucked up world, routine is dangerous. becoming comfortable is dangerous. they cannot keep any of this.

on that note, goro says "i hate you" in a halfhearted sort of way (it's not true and akira knows that.) but he's trying to think of a way that he can dissuade akira from picking the wrong choice.....

and i think the thing is, goro thinks all of this, but he still falls into the rhythm of routine with akira anyway. in a way, goro feels hopeless too.

all of this is maruki's doing........ paralyzed by the inability to choose... whatever you do, you lose. goro needs to hold akira at arm's length so the stupid sentimental fool doesn't get too attached and falls into the wrong universe. akira needs to make a concentrated effort to detach himself from goro even though he wants the simplest thing in the world: just one more unremarkable day with him. it's lose-lose..........,

also i liked drawing the tentacles in the last pic the freaking blue lines on them were SO satisfying to draw

edit: also the last page: the blood flooding the panel….. the idea of the ideal world being built off of the blood and sweat and tears and bodies of the people who could have been. of those lost in the actualization, of those destroyed, of those stitched together and brought back to life. all just for a little false happiness. goro sees it but akira doesn’t, and it’s a grim sight.

[samodivaa]

permeated by jealously

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Summary: In your tight-fitting red dress, you look ravishing for the date with a Russian guy—but the moment you retort to Bucky in Russian, it begs to be ripped from your body.

Warnings: smut, angst, kitchen sex, rough/possessive, unprotected p in v, miscommunication Words: 4k

Bucky's veins are full of the serum, but at this moment, they are full with belladonna tincture, the substance of jealousy. Seeing you with another man, he speaks of Love in the past tense. The scene that plays in front of him—that guy coming to pick you up from the compound, is perfectly adapted to a temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, already a memory. For a split second you stare at each other, you smile at him ruefully. A fleeting, lasting moment for Bucky. Why do you even notice him? Seeing you happy, gives mixed colors to the air of the moment—he is lost in time, sleeping being his only lover.

Bucky wants to kiss you. Instead he puts his lips on the tumbler glass, pretending that it is you. His t-shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and he runs a hand through his hair before he puts the glass down on the kitchen counter—flashes of you in that dress that you wear for your date and the way it lifts your body up from a single look races through his head.

His cock jerks and he shakes his head, grinning as he stares down the bottle of vodka next to his cup.

And, for the first time in his innocent and confined life, he senses in himself a potential for a different corruption that takes his breath away. He doesn’t blame himself. He is a curious, wanting thing—finally, enlightened and free, but also lustful and carnal. But It stabs at him, almost like a physical pain, and he feels both deprived and angry, deprived because Bucky wishes to be with you and angry, because his own choices causes him misery. ----- “It is almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare, you're so relieved. I just wake up into another nightmare."

"And what is that nightmare, Bucky?" He keeps his blue, lusterless eyes fixed on Natasha with a calm but warm and kindly expression in them as he thinks how to say it  "My love life” “Maybe you need to ask her on a date, that’s what Vladimir does”

“Vladimir? Oh , so it is not just 'that one guy' anymore?”  he says in a quiet voice, without a trace of irritation, with a note of the simplest curiosity, his lips quivering as a forced smile comes on to his face. Nat momentarily startles. Then she starts to laugh. “You’re jealous of him?”

He clenches his jaw. “I’m not jealous,” a note of personal affront creeps into his voice “I don’t like his name”  ----- You are on a date, having fun—but anxiety grabs his mind, it is self-perpetuating. Worrisome thoughts reproduce faster than rabbits, he is trying not to lose his balance. Not yet. Especially when the jealousy sets in. 

Bucky is conscious every moment in himself of many, many elements positively swarming in him, ah these, opposite elements. He knows that they have been swarming in him since you started going out with Vladimir and they are craving some outlet from him, but he doesn't let them, would not let them, purposely would not let them come out, because he believes there is nothing so self-destroying, and so despicable, as his jealousy. He tries to appear as a hard shell on the outside when you finally enter the kitchen at 1 am—while there is a runny mess on the inside as he tenses, waiting for you to say something, anything. When you near the sink, your fingers find the curve of the faucet, the metal cool beneath the touch. He turns around to lean against the counter as you pour a cup of cold water. Bucky stares hard at you, watching you take a long drink then he follows the flick of your tongue over your bottom lip. His heart stumbles a beat. He is in such an irritated frame of mind, because of your quietness that in rude and abrupt fashion he blurts out the words:    “You must love that dress”

He takes time persing down the length of your body as you take a step back, watching you press against the counter and then back up before locking on your eyes again. You are not wearing a bra and your nipples harden from having his eyes on you. Red, the front needlessly too scandalous—at least for Bucky. The dipping v lets him see the swelled sides of your breasts pushed up and together. Just to be sure, though, a golden necklace with a teardrop pearl at the end, letting it trail just over your cleavage.

  “I didn’t know that you notice what I am wearing when I go out”

You answer, trying to look as innocent as possible. The vindictive smile that stretches on your ruined lipstick sends shivers down Bucky’s spine—did you make out with the guy, maybe more than that? You look beautiful sitting there looking at him like a she-cat. All he has to do is look at you, and he lusts. He wants to take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to go out with anyone else ever again.

  “You’ve worn it for the second time. For your date.”

His gaze drops from your eyes, to the swell of your chest. Your chest tightens and you bite your lip to hide the grin wanting to escape. You notice the disgust written on his face and you laugh coldly, gaze never leaving his buff frame. With the certainty that you have well and truly punished him for not asking you on a single date. The angry, feral part of you feels so close to the surface that you can almost scent its blood-clotted fur. You want to lick the scratches you’ve made on him. You want to scratch him until he breaks apart. You gulp down the rest of your water to ease the heat flaming across your skin. Then you lick your lips. His gaze tracks the movement. You think you stopped breathing.

  “His name is Vlad” 

An audacious expression plasters on his face as you sigh in irritation at Bucky, rolling your eyes. Bucky is still leaning against the counter and rests his metal hand on the countertop while sipping vodka from the mug in his other hand. A beautiful yet deadly ornament—vibranium has no business being as hot as it is on him.

A note of personal affront creeps into his voice “Vladimir, mhm”

  “What else have you noticed about me?” your grin becomes a touch leery, innocently cocking your head to the side.

  “Try me” he says softly.

  “Favorite color?” you ask, interrogatively.

  He chuckles “Red”

  “Favorite quote?”

Your brows lift, anticipation making your nerves sing. You are not sure what he is about to say, but you have the feeling that it will be the right one, your heart leaps at the thought.

  “Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid”  he answers, this time winking at you  “I know everything about you, sweetheart”   he adds and you feel like smacking that stupid grin off his face.

His mind works well when it comes to his work as an avenger, hovering on hummingbird wings, but when it comes to you, especially when you purposely play with his jealousy, It finds a way to push through any seal of his mind, his expressions are always an array of masks he uses to cover it up his emotions—but now, it is all over his face, pure surrender, because he is affected and you can tell, he is staring impudently at you, awning for your response.

  “I prefer kotyonok. Vlad says that cognac and wine is all for the heart and that vodka is for the soul. If it's hurting real bad and you’ve never had vodka before”

His brows lift, because this does surprise him and his stomach tightens at that particular Russian word. His mouth curls into a small snarl at the thought of that stupid man calling you that. A pang of jealousy surges through him. The bad kind. The kind of longing that makes him wonder that there must be a natural comorbidity between sexual appetite and sexual jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill. He clears his throat, his face souring before his mocking tone grates:

  “Looks like you know a thing or two about me, too”   

He is trying to not be overcome by emotion. Emotion is the art of breaking hearts, minds, and tongues―but jealousy is too much, even for Bucky. He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control as he cages you to the counter, his flesh hand still holding his half full cup. Your throat gurgles slightly, looking at the bigger frame towering you through your lashes like the starved woman you are. You are overwhelmed by his bold move, leaving you both speechless and breathless, but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion here—lust, a longing that goes on a loop. You try to ignore his hard cock pressing against your thigh, your attention remains on his face. You feel drunk without a drink, your nerves tighten, making your muscles clench―this is going exactly how you want. You want him to kiss you. But you make sure to keep your facial features mundane and level.   “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to think you have a crush on me, Bucky” You also ignore the annoying, visible blush on your cheeks, he must have noticed it because his expression goes grim for a second before a surprised laugh almost breaks free from his lips, responding only by a clink of his tumbler against yours. Judging by the rumble that vibrates in his chest, he likes your reaction, though the noise ends on a cynical note. His blue eyes drop to your mouth, warmth pours through your body and you moisturize your lips as he presses his knee between your legs. Right against your clit—you breathe out, a wave of pleasure sliding down your spine while Bucky just tips his glass back the last of vodka, allowing the burn to sear his throat and warm his stomach—while casually grinding his leg slowly against you, creating a sensation that has heat winding through your core and shooting down your legs.   “Na zdorovie” (cheers) You smile venomously with a kind of joyous sigh, your arrogance in this moment makes you feel very confident. Up to this moment possessiveness has not been that much of a torment, now it suddenly gnaws at his heart. As in slow motion, he pulls back to put both glasses on the counter. He realizes that you do something to him. Every time. It’s your only detriment this past month. To step on his heart—to test his feelings for you, and his jealousy already has made him erupt like a volcano. He has never been jealous before he met you. It burns. Some nights, watching you go with other men on missions, even that drives him mad. 

   “You and that fucking mouth, kotyonok” His voice sounds ill-natured, bitter, politeness that would only be laughed at, restraining an unruly nature, wary of the ways that you are trying to provoke him, but his tone shifts at the last word. Voice warm and low. Intimate. You like it this way. You like the way it sounds and it makes you gasp.   “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl?” Your character has absolutely changed. It is an entirely new and hitherto unknown being who now stands and stares at him somewhat lovingly. There is evidently, he concludes, something at work here, some storm of the mind, some paroxysm of emotion which he won’t question. When you say nothing, his hands move to your waist, his vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire. You let out a deep breath and can’t deny the strange elation you feel when you feel his hands, needing more of it, of his touch. Your pussy contracts as his hands reach around, gripping a handful of your ass, forcing you harder against his both body and leg. The grip is both bruising and possessive, controlling every movement.     “Oh, god-” You open your mouth, and Bucky dips down, catching the moan with his tongue. Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head and keeps watching you with those fucking lethal eyes of his. Bucky gives a small grin, a fake one. The type that shows no teeth and barely lifts at the corners. You feel a very small spark to your ego, knowing you are getting a rise out of him. But all of the playfulness in the air drowns beneath the intensity of his thousand shades of blue dancing in his eyes as if he is peeling back your mental layers, his eyes looking down watching the bare length of thigh that shows through the slit in your dress. 

   “You and these dresses” he groans. Whether you want to admit it or not, physically, this man affects you more than anyone else ever has, and that causes panic to percolate through every nerve, you feel like you are losing control, but you don’t mind it. You feel vulnerable, exposed, almost at his mercy at this point. Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but his jealousy is combined with modesty and there's even something touching about the filthy words coming out of his mouth. He wants you—and finally, he is not afraid to both tell and show it.

   “Ya ne mogu vyrazit', kak sil'no ty menya zavodish'” (I can’t explain to you how much you turn me on) Your lips part and you swallow audibly while he has the most delicious visual of his dick slipping between them, your eyes staring up at him in surprise and that sweet tongue running along the shaft. He surges forward, your face is an inch from his when you breathe out, he breaths in before crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing his lips to yours. It is not a sweet kiss. It is hard, demanding, and possessive, borne out of weeks of pent-up frustration and tension. His mouth is hungry and insistent, his tongue probing your lips, asking for greater intimacy. You grant it, tongues swirling together, yours follow his when it retreats and tasting his in return. When he finally pulls back, he rests his hands on your hips, and stares into your eyes for a minute.

  “Tvoy zapakh s uma menya svodit” (your scent drives me crazy) 

He speaks without haste, controlling himself so well, yet there is something in his voice, determined and euphoric, resentful and insolently defiant. Passion smolders in his eyes as he traces the line of your clavicle with his index flesh finger, pausing for only a fraction of a second. And then you become aware of all the magnificent silk wrapping around your body, you have the feeling that you might drown in his eyes, his two drops of winter rain.   “I would love to make love to you, but not tonight”  He studies your face, pleading silently for your approval, searching for the smallest sign, the slightest movement of your brow, the vaguest reddening of your cheeks, the surprise of your eyes. At that moment, your soul clenches as well as your pussy. The hard dick still pressing into you distracts you from replying. You can feel your panties dampening. And your nipples are suddenly incredibly sensitive, aching as they pucker against the material of your dress. Your chest warms, desire winding like a rope around your core. You think you like Bucky this way. A smile shows on your face. This would be invisible to any, but the closest scrutiny—Bucky has noticed it and taken it for his sign. Then he leans forward and presses his lips once more, his sugar roughness, his possessiveness is what you need to finally feel.   “What did you do when you went out?”   “We had a few drinks. We danced.” you reply, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. His lip quivers slightly, forcing himself to seem calm, but Bucky’s eyes are sparkling irefully, there is no doubt in his expression the full success of your endeavors to make him even more detested.   “You danced with him?” he asks, with sudden vivacity.   “Well, he is my date” You murmur, trying to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, you sense a physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of your own heart, which beats visibly and audibly under the excess of agitation—but before you can even manage to open your mouth again, his metal fingers grab the front of your gown and pull it until it tears, no matter how beautiful, it was meant for another man—perfect breast on display just for him, his cock pulses at the sight. His touch tickles you on his way up to your boobs, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his palms. “Tony’s rules include no sex in the common areas” “Fuck the rules” he grits out, more animal than you have ever heard from a human. And then he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet—with the filthy touch of his hands, that unexpected warmth rushes through you. His thumbs run over the hardened peaks, making you moan and his dick is so stiff that he is worried that he might come.   “Ty moya” he says coolly. (you are mine)

   He leans in, his voice a rumble in your ear.   “Moy kotyonok” (my kitten)

Bucky moves, gripping the meat of your thighs before he spins you harshly around and bends you over the counter. Your walls are squelching around nothing as you feel him pull back, murmuring something in Russian, it is sinful—and pleasurable, drawing a muffled whimper from your mouth as you hear him tear apart your panties. You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you hear his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs before pressing his body against yours until every inch of him melds into you one more. Bucky’s metal hand grips your chin and forces your head back while the other closes around your throat as his cock presses against you—chills slide up your spine, arousal sending a shot of adrenaline through your center as you feel pre-cum on your naval. Fuck, he is huge. There is a certain satisfaction in manhandling you into this position, the flesh arm tightens around your nape, holding you close to him. 

   "How about we make a deal? You wear dresses for me and I take you out on dates?” He rambles against your ear, tongue slipping out to taste you, just a little bit. His cock nudges around your ass cheeks, to your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead with his metal hand, gliding through your delicate folds and returning his cold grasp around your chin. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you with ease, your wetness sucking him in, making it easy for him to thrust into you until he buries himself to the hilt.     “Fuck, you feel good”

Bucky moans quietly as his eyes close, focusing on feeling your cunt wrapping around his dick for the first time. His lips stay silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands hold, the way he fucks you. You want to see his face, but you can only imagine how perfect he looks.

His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind. It is an igniting feeling to have so much control over your body. It is sick and twisted, he has long learned to run from what he feels and wants, that's why he has nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control. And he needs to take control over something for once in his life. You. He has lost control over everything, even the places in his head. When your moans become too loud, his hand closes around your neck, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. His growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length.

   “Come for me, drench my dick”

He whispers, fucking his cock against your cervix. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath as you struggle to breathe. Jealousy…teeth dragging against your skin, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples, shooting up and down your spine as his thrusts never falter, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb.

Lust is the best of all the deadly sins, you realize as he pulls out and helps you go back on your shaky feet. It all happened too fast. You only wanted a kiss. You push his chest like you want him off of you, but your fingers have Bucky’s shirt clutched in them and he knows you are full of shit. You want him. 

   “I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.” The timbre of his voice goes into that low register that makes your insides curl in on themselves. You want that tongue to swipe your sex like licking the frosting off a cupcake. It is the sexual chemistry you want more of. It is electric. But guilt sets in. You are feeling torn between your commitment to building a relationship with Vlad while engaging with Bucky, in a way it feels like cheating. A part of you is hoping someone from the team would wake up and catch you, so you wouldn't have to live with this lie. But no one wakes up and in the silence that follows, you understand the nature of your new curse: you are going to get away with it. Your silence hurts him, his mouth tightens. But there are some wounds that he can heal only by deepening them and making them worse. And yet, sometimes facts are no more than pitiful consequences, Bucky knows how the public will perceive you if you are dating the former Winter Soldier. Seeing you standing there unresponsive makes him realize that silence has a sound—he knows that you regret sleeping with him. You are the people's favorite Avenger, the one everyone look up to with admiration and reverence—he is sure that you are thinking about it, but he understands. The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put his finger on—and he should be sad, but instead, he feels nothing. He feels a lot of nothing these days. He is empty, as if whatever makes him feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving him hollowed out like a shell. This is for your happy ever after, Vlad might be a stupid Russian, but he is at the very core of his existence—a real human. He turns around and paces the room, as if he can leave his regret, you, behind. But it cracks you as you see him walk away, leaving you naked like an ugly shadow made by himself. You have mistaken his lust for love. Regret. It turns into anger, into hatred. And where there is anger there is always pain underneath. You eventually come to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards Bucky who has hurt you, you are giving the reins of control over to him—maybe It’s time to finally say “yes” to being Vlad’s girlfriend.

[astraystayyh]

you're in the wind, i'm in the water

hyunjin x reader. friends to lovers with a pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw). this is pure brainrot so suggestive at the end. but also fluffy and soft. also reader wears a two piece swimsuit.

a.n: again, sanest response i could have to this hyune. please enjoy my descent to madness :) also the last scene is heavily inspired by my favorite dialogue in the song of achilles!!

pt. 2- orange

The first time you went on a vacation with Hyunjin’s family, you were only seven years old.

You don't clearly remember the island his parents took you to, the details of the travel elusive to your memory's grasp. But you remember Hyunjin- his hair darkening under the touch of the saline sea, akin to a night sky devoid of its stars. You remember the dimple on his left cheek- the sheer pride in you each time you managed to bring it to light. And you remember thinking that Hyunjin was pretty, for the first time in your small existence.

It's a thought that scorched itself indelibly into your brain, and as the years cascaded by, the branches of your love grew, each leave bearing new adjectives to describe Hyunjin- caring, emotional, talented.

But never yours.

You're both older now, and you see him less since his house is no longer right next to yours, the rhythm of life distancing you both. Hyunjin comes in and out of your life as an ephemeral tide, gently brushing your shores. You cling to the sea shells his oceans sometimes throw at your feet- the rare times when your schedules align, when you can see him beyond the confines of your phone, in pixelated video calls late into the night.

And it seems as if you've caught a rare shell this time- one with an ivory pearl hidden within it. Because you're traveling once again with him.

You're all much different, the passage of time marked you in different, but palpable ways. But your presence with Hyunjin's family still felt just as effortless as it did when you were seven. You never had to second guess what you said or how you acted with them. You were just like running water, flowing naturally within the nooks and crannies of his family.

And at night, under the moon's watchful gaze, your hushed conversations with Hyunjin remained. Beneath a shared blanket knitted by his mom, the warm sand melded with your feet, his dimple appearing once again at every word you uttered. He was still as pretty, perhaps even more so with time's gentle sculpting, molding his features into much sharper ones. It seemed only fitting for a soul as beautiful as his.

"I want to take you somewhere tomorrow," he had whispered excitedly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, momentarily leaving you breathless- tongue dissolving in your mouth like ivory seafoam.

"You want to kidnap me?" you playfully asked, nudging him.

"You don't want to come with me?" he pouted, his gaze locked into yours, pupils appearing much darker with the absence of the sun, like a boundless ocean. The water was right beside you and yet your only wish was to swim in his eyes.

"I want to," you admitted.

"Anywhere?" he asked, irises trembling slightly as he sought your response. You were both very different, chemicals binding his molecules, and your love for him binding yours. You stood faraway from one another- you in the water and he in the wind, stirring your waves, submerging you in the seas of your longing.

"Anywhere."

...

Faraway land punctures the ocean you're gazing at, crystal blue water filling the small pool Hyunjin took you to. You admit it's a breathtaking view, only your eyes can't depart from Hyunjin's figure.

He jumped into the pool first, while you went to retrieve your camera from your bag. And now you stand by the door, heart caught in your throat, as you watch him swim around. Hyunjin is graceful, in the way he moves his limbs, bending the water to his will. It doesn't look like he's swimming, rather dancing on liquid ground.

Kkami joyfully barks once he sees you, and Hyunjin finally lifts his eyes, locking them with yours. He is pretty, unattainable, a singular star outshining all the celestial light. Foolish of them to even think they could compare.

And he's still not yours.

"I’ll take a picture of you both," you smile softly, willing yourself to conceal the lump growing in your throat. Hyunjin nods, draping his hand over Kkami's body, softly scratching the spot behind his ear. You take the first pic, capturing the tenderness in Hyunjin’s eyes. This one's for you alone.

"Okay, look at the camera," you call out cheerfully, and they both turn to look at you in unison. Though your bodies did not touch, the intensity of Hyunjin's gaze seemed to sear into your skin, igniting a fire within you. Foolish of you to dream of more.

You set the camera aside, before sitting at the edge of the pool, dipping your toes into the cool water. Hyunjin swims towards you, positioning himself between your legs, his warm hand wrapping around your ankle. You want to flee, to go back to to the innocence of seven, to never recognize how pretty Hyunjin is, to avoid the heartbreak of dreaming of someone you'll never have.

"Come swim with me," he pouts, palm pressing against your damp skin. You shake your head, a teasing smile on your face, and he pulls you to him, hands holding your waist promptly to prevent you from sinking under.

You free yourself from his intoxicating hold, before diving into the water, a desperate attempt to get away from him. Because when Hyunjin held your waist, a tenderness so earnest in his eyes it made your heart skip a beat, you dared to imagine a future together. For a fleeting moment you became the ocean and he the sky, merging at the faraway horizon.

Hyunjin dives right after you, and then you both swim around one another, giddy smiles on your faces, your laughter echoing around the room. He tries to drown you, hands gliding across the surface of your skin, making goosebumps ripple in you. You attempt to do the same, but you soon regret it. His skin was smooth, taut muscles flexing under your touch; broad shoulders you wrapped your arms around, trying to push him down. Your hand accidentally brushed against his pulse, and you removed it as if it had burned you. There is life beating within him, wildly. But not for you. Never for you.

"Wait, hold on. Your straps are loosening," he notices, reaching for your arm and spinning you around, your back now facing him. "Can I?" he asks, voice dipping to a lower timber. You feel it in the depths of your stomach, depths only he can unravel.

"Yes," you whisper, as he undoes the loose knot of your swimsuit, the one behind your neck still holding up the fabric against your skin. You can feel his cold breath traveling across your bare back, crystalizing the droplets of water trailing on it. His fingers are a stark warmth as they brush against your spine, fingertips gently grazing your skin, like a delicate feather. You imagine your body is molten wax, and he's the seal stamp pressing onto you, molding you whichever way he'd like.

He's tentative as he grabs the undone straps, wrapping them in a knot. Or at least attempting to. You can tell that he's shaking, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. "Im sorry, I didn't tie it well," he giggles sheepishly, undoing the knot once again. You don't reply, unsure of what words will stumble out of your mouth. 'I don't mind you touching me' instead of 'it's okay'.

You turn around once he's done, but he doesn't move back, his body mere centimeters away from yours. You can see the rise and fall of his chest, the slight blush creeping up his neck, coloring him in the prettiest shade of crimson. The droplets cascading down his body, forging a tantalizing path you wish you could undergo. His dampened hair, a shade darker than his usual color. His lips slightly parted, rosy as they've always been. His adam's apple bobbing up and down furiously.

And you suddenly can no longer breathe.

Beneath the water, his hand encircles your wrist, a touch so faint you almost believe that you've imagined it. His fingers trail down, holding your palm and bringing it to his face. He closes his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale, one you inhale right back in. You're cradling his cheek, his hand right on top of yours, holding it in place.

"Hyunjin..." you start, but he shakes his head, eyes still shut.

"Please," he whispers, "just for a little." and the clouds slightly uncover, a singular sun ray piercing through them- one petal of hope unfurling at his words.

"Don't- don't do this," you plead back, tone tinged with panic. You couldn't have him, not even for a second, not even in a dream. That's the way things are. Two parallel lines, traveling down the same path, forever adjacent, but never merging as one.

Hyunjin plants a soft kiss on your wrist, lips barely brushing against your pulse. You've never truly known gentleness until this moment.

"If I told you that this trip with you is the happiest I’ve been in a while, would you believe me?" he whispers against your skin, head slightly tilted.

You shake your head no.

"If I ask you something would you be honest with me? I'm tired, yn," he says, his voice softening as it always did when he uttered your name. As if the syllables were always coated in honey, even in his sadness, in his anger, and now, in his pleading for you.

"I will," you respond with an equally quiet voice, and yet it resounds loudly around the room, amplified by the consequences looming around the corner.

"Do you want me?" he asks simply, expecting you to easily uncover a secret you've buried for years, to dust the weight of your fear in mere seconds.

You remain silent and Hyunjin deflates a bit, shoulders slumping forward, the dimple in his face vanishing completely.

"Because I'm drowning in my want for you."

A water droplet falls from the strands of his hair, landing softly on his mouth. You follow its descent, as he licks his lips nervously, his hold on your wrist faltering. The wind is gliding across the water- he's offering himself to you. Who are you to ever refuse?

Your lips crash on his before you even realize it, years of longing exploding before your eyes, spilling from your mouth to his in the most vibrant colors. His lips are soft as you've always imagined them, and they move against yours perfectly, as if molded from the same dough, created to meet again and again, in a fervor, and then in a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

You're kissing Hyunjin, and you aren't burning, disintegrating under the weight of longing for someone so unattainable. You aren't Icarus- you flew too close to the sun but it hadn't burned you, instead it embraced you, it's now wrapping its hands around your waist, pressing your chest to its warm one. It's a touch you welcome, one that liquefies in your veins like molten amber.

You wrap your legs around Hyunjin’s waist, as he walks backward until your back is against the pool railing. Your hands are tugging his damp strands, fingers threading through his locks the way sunshine weaves between the leaves. He tastes sweet, sweeter than anything you've ever had in your life. And you're greedy, you can't get enough of him, so you part for a second only to meet again, his hands digging into your sides. Chest to chest, skin to skin, heart to heart.

"Say it," Hyunjin whispers against your lips, "say that you want me back."

"I want you. So much, Hyune. You're the only one I’ve ever wanted," your words wash over him, erasing every doubt that was anchored in his heart. How could you not have seen it, all this time? In each photograph you took, his gaze, always on you. The fondness in his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks, only ever coming forth for you.

You lean away, head dipped down to kiss his shoulders. Your lips trail down his collarbones, moving to the mole on his arm. He smells like chlorine, and the sweet scent of your monoi oil. Hyunjin is pretty, Hyunjin is warm, Hyunjin is yours.

Your eyes meet his and you both let out giddy giggles, the flush of your cheeks matching his. His lips are slightly swollen, and he bites the lower one as he glances at Kkami, who was idly watching you both.

"Do you think we traumatized him?" you ask in a hushed whisper.

"I think he's glad this happened and he no longer has to hear my rants about you," Hyunjin smiles sheepishly and you laugh, the sound reverberating through Hyunjin’s heart.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your laugh?" he asks, thumb swiping across your cheek with a tenderness that leaves you dizzy in its trail.

"You have," you whisper, the sound of it getting caught in your throat.

"And this?" he gently grazes your cupid bow. "Have I told you how much I love your lips?"

"You haven't," you say, mouth parting slightly at his words.

"This then," he trails across your neck, skimming your pulse. "Did I tell you how I feel about your blush? How it always always starts up your neck? Always so pretty?"

"No," you are breathless now, shuddering under his touch.

"What about this?" his hands hold your waist, kneading the tender flesh. "Did I ever tell you? About this?" They go over your hips, gliding across the bare skin. "Surely I did."

You shake your head. Skin burning up where he had touched it. He smiles, tongue poking against his cheek, hands going to your back, tracing over your spine, undoing the knots of your swimsuit. "And this? Did I tell you how much I want you?"

You close your eyes, wind meeting water. "Tell me again."

[miwiheroes]

Full Airport Scene Analysis

I've seen like, a lot of people do analyses of the airport scene, but they often do it in parts when I just want to fully hone in on the whole ass scene and give it a full run-down. So, get ready for this post to be extremely long.

So, the camera pans across from Argyle and Jonathan looking super bored and tired to both Will and El, and I think this is actually very clever. Before this scene, you're not really sure who Will is in love with or who he made the painting for. The fact that the audience may remember El saying 'i think there is someone he likes' and then see how Will is holding the painting so proudly means that they subconsciously realise, oh the painting is for Mike meaning -- Will has feelings for Mike. Note how the juxtaposition between Argyle and Jonathan's demeanour and Will and El's demeanour further showcases how they feel the same way about him (supposedly).

Also this is random, but watching this scene over and over again made me realise that Will's is literally shaking so much in this scene. (WATCH HIS HAND WHEN EL IS LOOKING FOR MIKE)

Now let's talk about Mike's outfit (yes this isn't just talking about how ass it is)

So in the amazing GQ video on youtube, the costume designer talks about how Mike probably bought this outfit at the airport. He's dressing up how he thinks he should in California -- the double meaning being that he is trying to 'be more normal' as Finn Wolfhard says in another interview.

In this scene we know that Mike's trying really hard to push down his feelings about Will, he's trying to seem like he fits in, and in the GQ video, Amy Parris talks about how 'it's bright, it's not a colour Mike normally wears'. Orange and purple? Mike usually wears blue..... and yellow........... i mean what

I guess you could say that in a more surface-y way, he's trying to fit in by wearing something less edgy than he would normally wear, but if you look deeper into the colour coding of byler, he's trying to disconnect himself from Will because of him trying to deny his feelings. Will is wearing blue in this scene, but Mike's wearing orange, showing the disconnect between them in the scenes with these outfits on. I know a lot of people say he's wearing yellow, but nah, it's orange and that's actually more proof that he's trying to hide his feelings for Will.

Also this is another quote from Parris: 'he's worn teal before, so it felt like orange was the best colour that was different from his closet that felt like he was trying to make it work in california.'

And it's not like they just forgot the colour coding for byler. I mean, there's blue and yellow in this shot of Mike when we first see his outfit.

Can you spot it?

Okay moving on

In the first and last Milkvan kissing scene, it is important to note that the directors of the show are very intentional with the extras and where they move to during the scenes. During the shot of them kissing, the camera is focused on them, yes, but it is very busy. Watch the shippers try to edit this scene, the duffers really said.

Firstly, Mike is wearing a visor, he's holding a bag so he can barely hug her, he's also wearing sunglasses inside?? You can't see his facial expression, further showing this season is not in his pov. Not only that, but people are moving in front of the camera, it's very very busy. It's supposed to be a little overwhelming. I could barely take a screenshot without someone walking in front of the camera... like that is not a coincidence, they aren't filming in an actual busy airport. So so many extras walk in front of them during the whole scene, not just the kiss, but while they are speaking as well.

When El goes to hug him, as soon as she does, he makes a little noise of protest or something and is like 'careful, careful' almost like he put the flowers in front of them on purpose so there's like an excuse for them to stop hugging? They then stop hugging and he finally takes off his glasses so we can see his face.

He is wearing sunglasses only in the parts where he's being slightly intimate with his girlfriend -- eyes are windows into the soul, no? Without them being seen, you wouldn't be able to tell what he is thinking, and he needs these in these intimate moments especially, in case anyone notices something's wrong.

Okay now we go onto the flower theory thing, and there are many things to unpack here, and stuff that I personally don't believe, and some theories that I do.

What is super clear to me is that these flowers are the exact same dead flowers that El picks up at the end of season 4 to signify that her relationship with Mike is.... dead (sorry if that's kind of on the nose). However, it is also key to note that Mike says that he 'handpicked' them for her in Hawkins, which on the surface makes it seem like he made more effort, but really this actually sets up the fact that they are the same flowers that can be found on the field. If he bought them in the shop, they may not be the exact same flowers in the last scene.

So Mike says 'I know you like yellow, but now I'm realising it's too much yellow'. The writers of the show did not have to put that in, let's just think about that for a moment. What was the reason for putting this line in? And the '70-30' split line is also very very specific.

Will's colour in the byler colour coding is yellow, it has been subconsciously put into our minds ever since they started colour coding them, for example the s3 netflix icons, the shirt he wears for the majority of s4 and the lights over his head in Rink-o-mania.

Personally, I think this might be a bit of a reach, but could Mike just simply mean that he was thinking too much about Will, in his opinion? Like subconsciously he kind of added lots of yellow because he was thinking of Will when he was thinking of El.

As for the 'So I sort of did a 70-30 split thing' line, I'm not really sure what this means. It could mean that he's putting in 30% of the relationship because he also added 30% purple flowers which symbolises what he's putting into the relationship. Meanwhile, El's favourite colour of flower has a 70% weight in the bouquet, meaning she's putting more into the relationship.

It's also worthy to see that El looks at the note which has 'From, Mike' on it right as he's saying all this stuff about the yellow flowers, and the music dies down from this joyful tone to a sombre one, kind of showing how the yellow flowers are a symbol for something.

Now, before this ^^, the only problem that we think is going on in Mike and El's relationship is the fact that El's lying to him about having friends and not being bullied. But now we have a possible reason. She is insecure about their relationship and how real it is. Her face says everything, she notices it, she then tries to ignore it and tells herself everything is fine.

The audience notices this, obviously, and is like??? wait what's going on? Why does it say 'from Mike'?

They get the answer real quick.

Because right after this, is when Will bounds over.

They shot it so that he's kind of in between them, subconsciously placing a thought or idea in the audience's head about what the problem is between Mike and El, even though it's very implicit at this point. The audience should also have the slight idea in this scene that Will has feelings for Mike, and they get reminded of this fact when they see Will in the background. They're then like.... oh so that's why they having problems? Damn....

Before El even stops speaking, Mike sees Will. We can tell from the way that he literally takes his eyes off El and goes 'oh,' before doing the second 'oh!'. I bet if this was shot so you could see his face, this would be way more obvious, but they shot it so that we could see Will's initial happiness at seeing Mike instead.

Awkward bro hug... um yeah so this is one of the biggest byler proofs to me. I mean, why would you need to hug your best friend like that? When you are perfectly fine at hugging your other male friends? (He hugged Dustin in the first episode btw).

Given everything that we know so far, that Will has feelings for Mike because he made him the painting that El said is for someone he likes; that there must be problems going on in the Milkvan relationship; that Mike is hiding his face and dressing unlike normal.... yeah he's trying to repress something. He won't let himself hug his best friend. Will is acting normal, they could have made him the one not to hug Mike because he is in love with him, but they didn't.

Also, unlike the Milkvan reunion, his face and his reaction can be very easily seen here. They literally zoom in on both their reactions to seeing each other because it is more important than Mike and El's reunion. This is what the scene is about!! It's main focus is on the development of byler and the breakdown of Milkvan. There are like very little extras passing across the camera because the directors want you to focus on their reactions here and how Will and Mike are feeling.

Obviously, Will is dejected but Mike's reaction is more telling. On the right gif, he looks down. Maybe he sees Will's painting and remembers what El told him, which was that it was for someone that Will likes. In my opinion, Mike does not know that it is for him. In Finn's words: 'I don't think he knows'.

After seeing that painting, he instantly looks to other people for their reactions to the hug, maybe being like, hey guys was that normal enough? Did anyone see that? Showing how he cares about the opinions of those around him or maybe that he doesn't want to look at Will for much longer idk.

After that...

Okay so now he's ready to ask about the painting. There's a beat, then he asks 'Uh, what's that' in this kind of breathy, panicky voice. It's not a casual tone at all, it's very tense, and the audience can tell, because this makes the audience tense too. When I first watched it I was like AHHH because oh shit. He asks it like he knows something is up with it, he knows that Will made it and it's significant.

The next shot is a slide-up from the painting to Will's face. This could be in Mike's pov to show that he was looking Will up and down, and this shot is inherently kind of romantic in that way. Either that or it's simply just to focus on the painting before showing what Will's going to say so that the audience know he's talking about the painting.

You can kind of see the cogs working in Will's head in the very little time between 'um' and 'it's nothing', as he realises that he probably shouldn't show Mike the painting based on how Mike didn't hug him.

Also notice how in the gif, an extra walks by the camera as soon as Will is not entirely truthful, so why would this not be done with El and Mike's reunion scene??

Now, this further pushes the agenda that Mike didn't hug Will because of his feelings for him. The audience already knows that this painting is supposed to be a gift for someone that Will 'likes' based on El's letter to Mike at the beginning. The fact that Will no longer feels comfortable with sharing that painting means that he is more unsure of Mike's feelings now that he's seen him irl.

However, the way that Mike goes cool is supposed to be weird. It's supposed to show the audience that he's pretending. I honestly don't know whether it's bias or the directors or the writers or the actors somehow made it this way but the speed at which Mike says 'cool' kind of just implies that he was not ready for that kind of confrontation. He was not ready to confront his feelings or enter into an interaction with Will about the painting. Because it means he can't deny the fact that he's jealous of Will having a crush on some girl. So he quickly shut it down.

He doesn't want to feel the disappointment that Will just basically confirmed the painting isn't for him.

In season 3, he is very interested in knowing who Suzie is, Dustin's girlfriend, but when he knows that Will has made a painting for a girl he likes, he doesn't bother asking at all what it is or who the girl is. He doesn't want to acknowledge it.

Also, the fact he wasn't ready to feel like this and is so focused on Will is shown by how startled he is by other people breaking the moment.

Now this next part is so funny given what we have already been presented with. We already know that Mike is self-conscious about hugging his supposed best friend, and that he does not want to confront his feelings about the painting. He is trying to be someone else because he is wearing unusual clothes for him, trying to seem like a normal person in California. He didn't want to hug his best friend because he wants to seem normal. He's out of character.

"Oh no, no. It's a shitty knockoff."

Laughing my whole ass off.

This ties the whole scene together. It makes the audience go OHHH right he's just been pretending this whole time (if they have any sense). It's genius writing. Without Argyle saying this, we might never really have full confirmation on whether he is really out of character or whether this is just how he has always been. NO, he is lying to himself. He is pretending.

They did not have to make Argyle say this. Ever heard of double meanings folks?

And Mike's reaction?

This reaction has always kind of been interesting to me. How would you assume how Mike would react to someone insulting him? Usually he would scowl or look annoyed but here he doesn't, he almost looks worried. Like oh no he's just been found out lmao

After this there's an awkward moment spurred on by Argyle Mike's like 'yeah this is so awkward'.

Now, since I'm literally Mike and he is me, I know what he's doing here by saying this.

I've done it before, it's where you kind of say that it's really awkward in order to make it seem like you're not the one making it awkward, like you're blaming other people (which he always does).

But Michael, it's kind of your fault?? Like, you didn't have to do the bro tap, you also didn't have to act that way around Argyle.

BRO WE ARE HALFWAY THROUGH NOW LMAOOOO THIS IS SUCH A LONG POST

Now onto the next part, where El is talking about Rink-o-mania and she starts lying again. I have watched this scene over and over and literally Mike barely looks at her once, while he glances at Will multiple times. I feel like audience members don't catch this explicitly, but subconsciously, they can sense that there is tension between the two because of the way that Will is placed during this scene…

I counted them up in this video and Mike glances at Will..

6 Times

Just want to say before we talk about each glance, this scene is extremely telling. It tells you exactly, through subtext, what the atmosphere between Will, Mike and El is going to be like throughout the season/ the beginning of the season. It's textbook foreshadowing.

Will is standing off to the side while Mike has his arm like really tightly around El. They could have had this scene be a cute scene between Milkvan because of how close they are, but instead this scene is about Will's sadness, about how he was ignored by Mike. He's still holding the painting, so the audience are still aware of its existence and what it could imply for Mike and El's relationship.

This scene is also about El lying! Not about how 'cute' Mike and El are.

Okay so here is me talking about every single glance <3

"Wha- Really?" -- Could Mike make it clearer if he tried? I think this is the most obvious one that the audience could easily catch, if they are watching without distraction. Which is important, because it is the first one. He stutters over his words when he realises that Will is looking back at him. Sound familiar? In a much more obvious scene, he does this with the triple take in the desert... It's also kind of clear that they looked at each other because Mike and Will look down/ away straight after Mike goes 'wha-'

"Trust me" "No I trust you" -- So this one's a little more subtle and maybe to the audience it could seem like Mike's looking at El, but then the camera turns to focus directly on Will and him looking at Mike with disappointment. I don't think he's upset about Mike completely ignoring him, but he's upset about this weird little awkward dance they're doing. The reaction from Will is because of the uncertainty. The fact they focus on Will with a single shot at all instantly makes this scene about his emotions primarily. This becomes a pattern.

"Rink-o-mania..." -- This one's also super subtle. I'm not even sure why Mike looked at Will here, but it is clear that he's not looking at El, if you want to slow it down then you ig. Maybe he sensed that Will was staring at him just a few seconds prior.

"Are your friends gonna meet us there?" -- Even though he is speaking to El, he looks at Will. This kind of shows that even when he is supposedly thinking about El and what they are going to do together, subconsciously, his mind is still on Will. This can then be seen in the Rink-o-mania argument when it is revealed that he has been focusing on Will's reactions all day when the audience believes originally that he was ignoring him: "You were! You were rolling your eyes, you were moping, you were barely talking, you basically sabotaged the whole day!" Mike, Mike, Mike. Your girlfriend being bullied didn't ruin the day, Will being pissy to you did? ANYWAYS THIS ISNT ABOUT RINKOMANIA JHDGASJHDG

"Friends what friends?" -- So this fifth one is kind of ambiguous because he has his visor on, hiding his expression and where his eyes are looking. But you can see with the way his head turned, that he was looking at Will because of the way he said "Friends what friends?" This is probably just Mike being confused on what's going on, then. BUT it is another thing that makes this whole scene not about 'uwu mike and el awww' but about Will's feelings or the fact that El's lying and the unstableness of their relationship.

"Angela?" -- This one is very notable. Firstly, here is what we know: Mike knows about the fact that Will has probably done the painting for a 'girl he likes'. Mike thinks that this 'girl' isn't him because Will says 'it's nothing'. Mike maybe thinks that El's friends are also Will's friends. AND Mike does not want to ask Will about the girl he likes because he doesn't want to know about Will liking someone else/ he does not want to confront his own feelings. So, The way that Mike looks at Will with that kind of dead expression, (and he actually does a little double take) is super duper telling. You don't know what he's thinking but if you read into it, he could be thinking that Will was feeling hopeful that Angela would come and is kind of nervous for it.

Finally, El says "I want this day to be about me and you!" which is meant to be ironic. The showrunners would not have put this little line in if it wasn't supposed to be funny tbh..... like this whole scene was about how El was lying and she's suddenly saying it's just about them.

Because of what she says as well, Will rolls his eyes and crushes his painting a bit. (HEARTBREAKING)... The fact that he rolls his eyes is probably just him being annoyed about what she said, because it further makes him feel like the third wheel. The scene ends with his eye roll, emphasising how this whole scene was about how Will is feeling, not the "Main Couple Of The Show tm??" But alsoooo, he crushes the painting :(((( meaning he was also feeling heartbroken a little by the fact that they are acting very coupley and Mike doesn't seem to care about him oops, since the painting is for him.

OKAY IM DONE LMAOOOO

In conclusion, this scene is about byler in the first half, and the flaws of Milkvan and Will's feelings in the second half. This scene is meant to foreshadow the arc between Will, El and Mike which transpires in the rest of the season. The bro tap is the gayest thing I've ever seen, and did not have to be included in this scene. It could have been Will that was awkward. It shows that Mike has changed. He has changed ever since Will moved away and he had that realisation. In season 3, Mike seems confused, unaware of his feelings. But now, in this scene, in only 2 minutes, we know for sure that Mike is in denial. He knows.

Anyways

Byler Endgame.

[come-on-darling-honey]

colourblind [paul lahote x reader]

AN:// this pushes all of the wolves and new moon plot to summer.

summary: based on this post of how the shift Paul and the others experience would give them physical attributes akin to a wolf, which is being colourblind. Which Paul finds himself in, until of course, he sees you for the first time in months on the first day of summer.

warnings- mature language and themes. one suggestive scene. 18+ word count 10k.

“La Push baby! Its LaPush!”

“Do you have to say that every time we go to LaPush?” I asked, staring at the back of Mike and Eric’s heads in the van. They were singing and screaming into the warm air as we drove down to First Beach.

“He said that to me when I first came to LaPush,” Bella added, meekly. I laughed, lightly pushing against her. She was wearing a white blouse and tan shorts, opposing my dark shorts and tight blue shirt, Angela had gotten me it when she went to the Grand Canyon with her family. It read “visit the Grand Canyon today!” on the back, so ugly I loved it.

“He’s been saying it since we were five and our parents would carpool us in the summer.” I whispered to Bella; we were both laughing at the terrifying attempt from Mike to sing ‘Wanna Be’ by Spice Girls. Butchering the lines didn’t matter to Mike, it was summer. First day of it. Bella was finally out of the pit she had found herself in.

I’d spent almost every Friday and Saturday night of the past seven months sleeping over at the Swan house, waiting for Bella to come through. At first it was scary, the screaming and the vacancy of her mind, but she’s better now. At least I hope she is, Charlie thinks so, but I’m worried she’s becoming dependent on our friend Jacob. Coming to First Beach did mean a far chance we could run into Jacob, but it also means she’s surrounded by other people, and as annoying as Mikes singing is, I can tell she’s enjoying it.

“Are you okay?” I heard Bella say, we’d parked, and the boys were getting their surfing gear on. I hadn’t even noticed; Bella was wide eyed like a little deer and grasping onto my shoulder. “Is it to do with Paul?”

“No,” I laughed uncomfortably shaking her off as I got out of the seat into the back, taking of my clothes to reveal my favourite bikini underneath. “Not even thinking about him.” Which was true, to an extent. I had been thinking about Paul Lahote all morning and all last night and the day before, and every day since three weeks ago but that wasn’t in this moment. So technically… not a lie!

She watched me in clear disbelief but didn’t push it. She knew some rumours about Paul from Jacob, not kind ones but as the days go on, I’m starting to believe them myself. Hall monitors on steroids. “What book are you bringing?” Bella asked, changing the subject.

“The Metamorphosis by Kafka, are you rereading Austen again?” I said, searching through my bag for suncream. The only way id gotten Bella to agree to coming today was to promise I’d stay by her side all day and we can just read on the beach. Which worked out well for me, I always hated getting changed after leaving the ocean, everything stuck to you; clothes, sand, everything. She nodded and sheepishly pulled Persuasion out of her bag. Bella grabbed the towels we were going to lay on as I surveyed the beach for the best spot, there were a lot more people than usual but it’s what I expected. The remote spot in the south corner seemed perfect. Setting down camp, I heard laughter and colliding footsteps coming towards us, Mike, Eric and now Tyler ran to our spot, and all jumped over one another to lay on the sand. Not a single cloud in the sky, not that the boys noticed, too busy apologising to Bella for covering her towel with sand. Laughing it off quietly she shook the towel and threw all the sand on the boys. She stopped laughing as she looked over my shoulder. Standing up I saw, Sam Uley talking with Jared, Paul and Embry? But Embry was huge and at least half a foot taller than when I last saw him. They began kicking a ball around until Paul suddenly turned in my direction. Swivelling quickly, I stared into the sea. Sitting down on my towel that I was apparently sharing with Jess, I looked over at Bella. Giving me a comforting smile, she nodded towards our books that sat in the bag at the foot of her towel.

A few hours had passed when Jacob and Quil had made their way over to us, Jess, Angela, and the boys had all decided to go on an impromptu adventure leaving Bella and I in peace, that is until Quil collapsed on my towel and Jacob calmly sat next to Bella.

“See how normal Jake is?” I asked kicking Quil with my foot, “Be more like Jake.” They all laughed as the fiend on my towel rolled over.

“Figured you needed protecting.” He said, puffing his chest put lightly with a boyish smile.

“From what?” Bella laughed.

“Lahote’s been staring at you for a while,” Jacob said staring at me. Turning around I saw Paul from a distance, I could barely make out his face but saw that he definitely wasn’t happy.

“Well thank you gentlemen, but we can handle ourselves.” I said, laughing when Quil got hit with a rouge baseball.

We spoke for a while, making jokes at each other’s expense and avoiding the subject of Embry completely. Bella and I had come to an unspoken agreement that if they wanted to talk about it, they would. I looked around the beach and saw a stall on the pavement beyond the pavilion, an old lady selling handmade jewellery. I told Bella, Jake, and Quil that I was going to see what she was selling and grabbed my purse from my bag. Making my way over across the hot sand I regretted not grabbing a shirt from Quil or Jake or even making a detour to the van, so many people were looking at me, even if they were wearing the same thing, I felt so exposed.

“Hello dear, having a good day?” The lady asked as I finally reached her stand. We spoke about the weather and then about her creations, one with a beautiful orange crystal in the middle had caught my eye. “Citrine, they bring positivity and happiness” she winked once she caught where I was looking. I grabbed my purse but before I could hand over the $5 someone else passed it to her. Following the tan hand, I saw Paul; he was looking at the lady and explained he’d buy it for me. She smiled and accepted the money, handing him the necklace over. Paul looked at the necklace in his hand and squinted, looking oddly heartbroken.

“I can buy it myself.” I said as he walked a few steps out of earshot of the old lady. He still hadn’t actually looked me in the eye yet. It was infuriating. “You know its super fucking rude of you to ignore me for weeks, replace me with new friends, act like I don’t exist and then pretend like nothings happened.” He tensed at this; I kept going. “And now you won’t even look me in the eye!” I laughed, his large shoulders straightened, God when did he get so big.

As he turned around something shifted, I’m not sure what but it was definitely something. He stared at me wide eyed, speechless and I saw tension fall from him. But I had no patience for him.

“Are you going to give me the necklace or should I just go and buy one for myself.” This seemed to snap him out of it, he passed me the necklace and kept looking at me. Not staring anymore, more of a gaze. Not voyeuristic as the other gazes from men on the beach but an intimate one, one I wanted to avoid. His eyes are a stunning brown, I think to my painting at home, I’d made him sit for hours, waiting for the result when I’d spent twenty minutes alone painting half an eye, he waited.

Tearing myself away from him I look down at the necklace, it was beautiful. I had to not owe him this. I took the $5 out of my purse and pressed it to his chest. He finally caught on and gently pushed my hand away.

“Take it.” I demanded.

“It’s a gift.” He whispered, the way he used to.

“Please take it.” I begged lightly; I couldn’t owe him for this.

“What is going on?” A harsh voice interrupted us. Quil had stood in front of my right shoulder, not hiding me completely but being a clear attempt to shield me. He didn’t know any of the details of what happened between Paul and I, but honestly, I didn’t either. He just knew how broken I was, crying to him when Bella, Jake, and Embry weren’t around. Knowing I couldn’t handle their silent looks.

“None of your fucking business, Ateara.” Paul snapped, his body tightening. Quil pushed him, suddenly Jared was holding Paul back and Sam had appeared in front of us. He had whispered something to Paul that I couldn’t catch but it looked more like a demand. One I wasn’t entirely sure was in Quil and I’s favour or not.

Jacob had arrived by this point, staring at Embry in disbelief who had told Quil to ‘back off’, Embry was normally so sweet and quiet. The way he was acting as he was influenced by the others was a clear sign to the mentality that I didn’t want anything to do with. Paul had caught my eye from over Sam’s shoulder, a pleading sense to him. I looked away, staring at Quil’s back. I couldn’t do this, get caught up in whatever teenage boy bullshit was going on. I was 18, Paul 19, Quil 17. I had no fucking interest. Ignoring the yells of my name I walked back to Bella who had watched the whole affair in bewilderment. I walked back to Bella in more confidence then when I had left, I couldn’t explain it, but I knew the people looking know, weren’t looking at me and if they were it, was a good thing. Sitting on the towel I thanked Bella for staying with the stuff and picked up my book. Not before placing the Citrine necklace in my bag. She watched me as I lied back down but I couldn’t care, knowing I’d have to tell her every detail later anyway. Jess practically ran to us, monopolising my towel once again and demanding to know what she had seen from across the beach.

“I mean not only was he completely eye-fucking you but who were all his friends?!” She practically screamed, I hit her shoulder lightly with my book for ‘eye-fucking’ as Bella blushed, but explained who the boys were.

“Oh, they’re coming over!” Jess said, elated with the drama unfolding right in front of her. My legs slid over Jess so she wouldn’t leave and who ever was coming wouldn’t stay, which thankfully she understood as she grabbed my legs lightly with a comforting rub.

“Can you believe the nerve of Embry?” I heard Jake yell as he was approaching us, Bella’s cheeks were as pink as Jess’ bikini. Jess’ jaw dropped as she ate up Quil and Jake’s physique, I watched her over my book, smirking as she stared at the long haired boys.

Quil called my name, and I looked up, with my head laid down I saw him as a giant, which made me laugh.

“What the fuck was he saying to you.” Quil demanded, staring at me.

“It’s over, don’t worry about it.” I said calmly.

“Don’t worry? He’s a fucked-up dude! Literally almost exploded on me, again!” he gave Jess context, that Paul had almost ‘attacked’ Quil in a convenience store a few weeks ago. She looked down at me in surprise. I still read my book.

“As hot as he is,” Jess said with Quil and Jake protesting as she ignored them, “no boy is worth it if he has anger like that.” She said with the older sister tone she normally used on her younger siblings. Quil and Jake agreed with her, but Bella stayed silent, I looked at her from the corner of my eye and saw her staring at the pavilion.

“Honestly, if you go back to him, I can’t be your fucking friend.” I caught Quil saying. I stood up so quick I dropped my book on the towel, loosing the page. Where did this come from? Bella, Jake and even Jess went quiet. Quil had snapped, he never snapped at me.

“First of all, that would be my decision, second, I wasn’t ‘with’ him in the first place and thirdly you don’t get to be so fucking rude to me.” I snapped, pointing a finger at his chest.

“He’s a bad fucking person and you know it.” His eyes stared into mine, harsh and true.

“You don’t know him how I know him.” I defended Paul, for some unknown reason. I didn’t even fully believe myself I was just so hurt with how Quil was acting everything was blurring out of anger.

“After everything he did, you’re defending him!” Quil yelled, desperation in his eyes, he was looking at me as if I was crazy, which I was beginning to feel.

“You don’t fucking care about me.” I yelled back. Storming away, grabbing only my bag and purse, leaving my book and towel. All but Quil yelled after me.

Opening the van, Mike was sat in the back struggling to get the sand of his feet. “Pass me my clothes.” I said, I couldn’t hear myself due to the anger raising and blurring everything, but I could tell I was being rude, Mike’s smile dropped into a worried expression as he gave me my clothes. I dressed in silence as he asked me if someone did something, like the protective older brother he always acted like. I shook my head, unable to fathom words that weren’t a string of swears. Did Quil really think that lowly of me? Did he think he could just give me an ultimatum like that, and I’d accept it? Fuck this and fuck him.

I told Mike I was going home and as he asked if I wanted a lift, I slammed the door of the van shut too hard and made my way to the back streets of first beach. I knew if I got to the centre of LaPush that I could find the bus stops I used to use when I’d hang out with Paul. Led hit me over the head when I thought about him. I suddenly had an urge to sit by his side unlike the recent weeks where id sworn him off and cried and cried.

A truck pulled up beside me, old and worn I recognised it as Sam Uley’s. I looked over to see him sat in the driver’s seat looking at me.

“I’ll give you a ride.” He said, in a way I felt oddly comforted by as I got in. Normally, I would’ve told him to fuck off, but I felt way too emotional to walk the twenty minute walk to the centre of town. We sat in silence for ten minuets after I’d told him my address. I wanted to ask him about Paul, even about Emily and Leah but it didn’t feel right. This would be the fifth time I’d been near him let alone speak to him, so it just felt wrong. But he must’ve been thinking the same thing.

“It’s not Paul’s fault.”

“What?” I asked, looking at him. He was staring intensely into the road, it was weird, it felt like Sam was effortlessly the comforting older brother figure Mike had tried to be. Yet he seemed guilty like he’d made a mistake, not know but before.  

“I told him to stay away from you, it was my fault. He had no choice.” I decided to listen, to make sense of what he was saying. “There’s somethings you need to know, do you remember Emily?” I nodded, unable to speak in fear he’d stop speaking. “I’ll write her address down for you, visit any time and she’ll help you.” How cryptic could one person be.

“Why did Paul listen to you?” I questioned, staring at him. His dark brown hair was swooped back so he could see the road.

“He had no choice, you’ll understand.”

“I don’t understand anything.” He laughed.

“You will.” He pulled over and stopped driving, we’d reached my house. He pulled a notebook from the glove compartment. “Here’s her address and my number if you need a ride.”

“I can get Bella to drive me.”

“No, Bella can’t know about this, it doesn’t involve her. I’m sorry but you must trust me.”

“I tell Bella everything.” I said, taking the sheet of paper from him.

“But does she tell you everything?” he asked, his tone wasn’t accusatory like Quil’s had been, no Sam asked me like he was genuinely worried about me. He was right, I knew Bella wasn’t telling me something. I couldn’t ask, hoping she’d finally tell me.

“I guess this means don’t tell Jake or… Quil.” He nodded, I got out of the truck, thanking him for the ride.

“You hike a lot, right?” It was my turn to nod. “Take a break for a while, with all those attacks it really isn’t safe.” I agreed, sadly, and went inside, after thanking him again for the ride. “Ever need a lift, just let me know, I’ll sort one out for you.”

I was glad it was summer break. All my free time had been spent on art, painting, sketching, and avoiding literally everything else. I’d been missing all of Bella’s calls and thankfully when she came over to my house I was working. Sam had been giving me lifts to work since I normally did a small hike there. I worked on the other side of Forks at a plant shop and nowhere near Bella. Whatever she was hiding from me had been eating away at me for a while. Summer break had also given me an escape from running into Jess, I loved her, but I had literally no answers for her. And the theories I had were so bat-shit crazy I had feeling no one would believe them.

Quil had called seventeen times. I couldn’t call him back, still angry at the way he spoke to me. Maybe he was right about Paul, but a small voice in the back of my head I’d nicknamed ‘stupid consciousness’ told me I should give Paul a fair chance and listen to Sam. Maybe it was some crazy mastermind ploy to pull down my defences, but id started to befriend Sam, and Emily as she’d joined him a few times to take me to work. I couldn’t figure out why they’d decided to help me out suddenly, but I decided to just go with it, I felt safer, loved and they never brought up Paul.

8:30am on a Tuesday morning I sat in the garden waiting for Sam. My headphones blasting Noah Kahan’s new album. It was chiller then it would be for this time of year, so a loose fleece hung around my body. We had another month of beautiful sun until the constant hood of clouds and rain returned to Forks. I had started worrying this morning that Sam driving me to and from work was an inconvenience, I hadn’t been insecure about this before, but it was daunting on me now. What if I was just pushing him out of his way and annoying him? Annoying Emily? I felt suddenly sick. But the truck in front of me pulled me out of the haze. Sam’s brotherly grin made me smile, my older brother was away at college, and I missed him. He opened my door form his side and I got in, the fear of inconvenience looming over me. Taking off my headphones I heard the soft folk music playing form the old truck. It was a twenty-minute drive to my work; we made nice conversation till Sam said something that struck me.

“Come to Ems tonight, I’ll finally explain it to you.” Weeks had passed since Sam initially asked me, it was clear I didn’t want to ask, so he’d decided to tell me. I nodded, silently looking out the window. Five minutes till we got there.

“Will he be there?”

“Yes.” He was short, sweet, and blunt. I knew I couldn’t hide from this, so I decided to ask what had been looming over me all morning.

“Why do you drive me? You work on the res; this is completely out of your way.” I still held my gaze out of the window. But I heard him grin as he told me.

“Well, I like your company, I always wanted a baby sister,” I scoffed at ‘baby’ which he caught and laughed, “plus it really is not safe if you walk to work, you walk through the bush, it isn’t safe.” His tone was serious at the end. I knew he was telling the truth. When we arrived, he looked over at me, smiling he passed me a brown bag. Holding back a laugh he told me “Em’s worried you aren’t eating enough”.

“She does know I’m an adult right?” I laughed, taking the bag.

“Well do you have any lunch today?” the silence from me made him laugh as I clearly did not, infact, have lunch. I threw a piece of card from the car door at him as I mumbled in protest.

“Pick me up at four?” I asked, putting the brown bag in my own. He nodded, as he drove away, I realised how long today was going to be.

I was right. So annoyingly, right. The day dragged, it felt that five hours had passed when in fact it was only two and I couldn’t even go for my lunch yet. If one more old lady asked me to point her in the direction of the roses, I was going to lose my mind. Not only was it weird that roses were extremely popular among old ladies but that they couldn’t see that the roses were at the front of the store, they were the first things you saw as you walked in.

At 1:25pm I heard a familiar gruff voice echo in the small shop. Charlie Swan. I was praying he was talking to a friend, or that there had been a horrible crime and the shop was under investigation. But as I heard a small, feminine voice I knew I wouldn’t have such luck. Of course, when I was working Chief Swan would decide to finally re-do his front garden. My lunch break was in five minutes if I could just hide here then my 60-year-old co-worker Henry would serve them. Henry was a true one, he’d help me in my hour of need. I hid behind the seeds, staring at Iris in its many forms as I heard Bella ask Henry if I was working too, I wasn’t sure if Henry and I had some super cool intuition or if he had genuinely forgotten I was working as he told her I wasn’t today. As I snuck away for my lunch break, I internally praised Henry for being the best co-worker that has ever lived.

Checking my phone, I noticed a missed call from Sam and a text.

“Can’t pick you up, Em is going to, she’ll be using her truck- its blue same make as Bella’s. Will be there when you arrive. Sorry.”

As weird as that was, I was just thankful I had a ride, I didn’t trust Henry behind the wheel.

The afternoon had passed quicker than the morning, the lunch Emily had made me was embarrassingly good and oddly comforting. As I finished my shift I gave Henry a fist bump, he laughed the way old people do, as a reflex showing that they’ve been laughing all their life. Emily’s blue truck pulled up; it was in a better paint job then Sam’s but I had a feeling Sam worked on her truck more than his own.

“How was your day?” Em gleamed as I got into the car.

“Dull but the lunch was amazing, thank you.” I laughed as she grinned like a fool.

“I knew you’d like it! Paul told me you were vegetarian, and I’ve been dying to pull out those veggie cookbooks! The boys always avoid vegetables, it’s ridiculous!” she laughed as I wound the window down, warm air sifting through. My fleece cocooned in my bag form this morning, abandoned in the heat. I smiled, feeling warm at the casual mentioning of Paul. I’d assumed Sam’s business was something to do with work and that it wasn’t my business but at Em’s odd avoidance of it, something felt different.

I’d told her about Henry and Bella, talking more about Henry then Bella, Em laughed so hard she coughed. Pulling up to her house, I was shocked. It was beautiful. When we got out, I stared at the cabin, two stories and covered in flowers and plants. Wooden furniture, big windows, and open doors. It was beautiful. Em pulled me in, it was even more perfect inside. Bright colours and paintings everywhere. Sitting at a round, wooden table Em beckoned me to join her.

“Your home is… wow just amazing,” I was still looking at everything, the open kitchen and dining room was so homely and comforting. She smiled and grabbed my hand.

Emily was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen. The scar on her face to her arm didn’t change that. She was even more beautiful; she wore it proudly. When she smiled part of the scar creased at her eye. Her long black hair hung over her shoulders, bangs perfectly trimmed. My hair was almost as long as hers, but she had a few inches on me.

“How are you feeling?” her caring tone standing through.

“Nervous, I have no idea what is about to happen.”

She nodded, squeezing my hand. “I’ll be here the whole time, if you don’t want to be here at any moment just say and we’ll go, no questions asked.” She must’ve noticed the apprehension in my face. “Nothings going to hurt you, Sam and Paul have made sure of that.” I trusted her, more than I trusted the people I grew up with. I knew for certain there was something going on, that involved Paul and Sam, probably Jared and Embry too. Whatever it was I hoped it didn’t involve Quil and Jake too.

Voices came through the door behind us that led out to Emily’s extensive garden. Sam and Paul came in. Both shirtless and only wearing shorts. Which was weird but I guess they felt the heat more than Emily and I, Emily was wearing a stunning white sundress and I white pants and black shirt, my apron from work stuffed in my bag along side the fleece.

Paul looked at me, he looked horrible, dark bags under his eyes, and it looked as if he had to hold himself back from me. Not in a threatening way, not the relief in his eyes told me this was good, that I was safe. Sam rubbed my shoulder as he passed me to Emily. As they hugged and kissed, I saw Paul still watching me, turning back to him I saw the weight in his eyes.

“Are you joining us?” I asked him, an olive branch being thrown in his direction.

He took a moment to process what I asked then silently nodded and sat a chair away from me, which did hurt. But I ignored it and looked to Sam and Emily who had both sat back down. Emily’s hand was once again in mine, Paul looked with an odd… jealousy? Till his eyes trailed up my arm to my neck, where the necklace laid. I’d worn it every day since the beach that I didn’t even think about it anymore.

“So,” Sam started, “there are some things we have to tell you, but I think it’ll be easier if we show you then explain.” Emily’s head snapped to him as Pauls hung in shame. He smiled at her reassuringly and guided us all to the garden where Jared and Embry were talking. They both greeted me with a relaxed voice I was deeply confused as to what was going to happen.

Sam and Paul stood slightly in front of me, Emily’s grip tightened as she held onto my arm. Without warning Jared had… disappeared? And there was a wolf in his place. I looked in frozen shock to Embry who was grinning ear to ear and then his body contorted itself into another oversized wolf. Both started chasing each other and I couldn’t find it in myself to be scared. Instead, I found it hilarious, two boys had just turned into great big wolves, and I was worried about my friend not liking me anymore! All my problems felt so small as I watched them both. Emily pinched me, whipping my head to her in pain I asked her what’s wrong.

“What is wrong? What is wrong! They just shifted into wolves and you’re acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world!” She yelled, trying to grasp anything from me.

“Let’s go inside.” Sam said, leaving Embry and Jared to playfight in the garden. Emily dragged me in, I couldn’t stop watching them. Enamoured by how small it made my problems feel. Everything had been feeling so all-consuming as I experienced every little emotion, it was awesome to feel so insignificant.

“How familiar are you with the tribe’s history?” Sam asked, trying to read me as we sat back in Emily’s kitchen. I finally turned away from the wolves in the garden to face him.

It all hit me, everything Paul had told me growing up and Quil had been telling me before the beach. About the vampires, about the three bloodlines that became protectors. Quil was in that bloodline. So was Jake. Fuck.

“I know a fair bit.” I said. The next ten minutes were spent by Sam monologuing everything they knew so far but I could tell he was leaving something out. Something I knew that I knew. Paul or Quil must have mentioned it. After he had finished, I sat processing, knowing there was something else. The leaches. Was it just the one Sam had mentioned. Oh god. I dropped the glass of water I was holding, Paul caught it.

“The Cullen’s.” I breathed, looking at Sam and Paul in horror.

“You caught that quicker than I thought you would,” Sam laughed, “the treaty doesn’t allow us to tell people what they are.”

“I sat next to them in classes… Bella dated one!” silence. “She knew?” I was bewildered. She knew that Edward Cullen was an ancient old man murderer and dated him? What is wrong with her. I can’t judge her completely, as gross and weirdly necrophiliac as that is, I didn’t know her story. I’m glad Sam warned me that she wasn’t telling me everything.

“Does she know about you guys?” Sam shook his head.

“Only the people in this room, Jared and Embry and the tribe’s elders know. Its safer that way.” I nodded. Embry was 17. He must’ve been so scared.

Suddenly it hit me how cruel I’ve been to Paul; Sam had explained the gag order he’d put on Paul. Thinking about him, I knew there was something else, but I couldn’t help but just feel horrible for how I acted. The way I spoke about him to Quil, not meaning a single word but loving how good it made me feel. Without looking at him I let go of Emily’s hand and held his. He squeezed in and I could practically feel the smile radiating of him. I knew I shouldn’t feel too bad for how I acted; I didn’t know. But I wish I did. Sam explained lightly how his transformation was, how painful and terrified he was. I didn’t want to imagine a similar story leaving Paul’s mouth.

“I’m thankful you told me but why exactly are you telling me?” I asked, Paul stiffened, my thumb absent and idly ran circles around the back of hand as I stared at Sam. He shifted uneasily under my gaze. Which felt wrong, Sam was never uncomfortable. What was he avoiding? What am I forgetting?

A ring ran through the silent kitchen, and I dropped Paul’s hand to look at my phone. Jakes name read across the screen, which was weird. Jake never called me. He texted me when he was picking me up to come hang out and that was it. It’d been radio silence on both ends since I had that argument with Quil.

“Erm, I’m gonna get this.” I went outside to Emily’s front porch rather than the open garden.

“Jake?” I asked to the empty phone line.

“Hello?” He panted; his breaths disjointed.

“Jake what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, something-” he was cut of by a pained groan. “Somethings wrong.” He sounded like a child, one who couldn’t understand the pain of a broken arm or where a relative had gone and why they wouldn’t come back.

“Jake? Is Quil there?”

“No, I just got back from the movies with Bella.” He screamed again. Then began pleading with me. I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly two wolves ran past me into the Woodline, I turned back to see Sam telling Paul and Emily something as he shifted into the clearly biggest wolf.

“Listen to me okay. Deep breaths Jake, help is coming. You just gotta keep calm. Please, okay?” I asked, figuring out what was going on. Jake was shifting. I was panicking and felt like crying at his screams of pain.

“How are you feeling?” a pained yell was all I got in reply, Emily came to the porch behind me and put a hand to my back, ‘keep going’ she mouthed.

“Focus on- Bella! Think of her okay. Bella she’s going to be an anchor for you. Think about her okay. What shirt was she wearing today?” I asked keeping my voice as calm and steady as I could.

“She was wearing-” another scream through gritted teeth.

“Focus.”

“a green jacket, and a white blouse.” I heard crashing through the call, Sam’s voice, more screaming. I hung up the phone. This was too much. Too soon. Emily’s hand ran up and down my back, I was breathing heavily. I only found out about this an hour ago, how was this happening to Jake? Bella had once called him “earthbound sun” and now all I was hearing was his screams of pain playing on repeat.

“Everything will be okay.” She whispered, taking me upstairs into a bedroom. The walls were wooden, and the large bed was plush, and it smelt of lavender when I sat on it. Emily leant in front of me, both my hands in hers as we breathed together, she must’ve gone threw this a few times now. I couldn’t even pinpoint why I was so worried. The idea of Jake or any of them making a mistake and Paul getting hurt was eating me up. As my eyes fell into Emily’s and my breathing matched hers, I remembered the last bit of the story Paul told me years ago.

We were 15, sat cross legged on his lawn. I was making daisy chains as he told the legends to me. He blushed as he mentioned imprinting. The two souls who were destined to meet brought together by fate. How the shifter devotes themselves to their imprint even at the cost of themselves. At the time we both couldn’t comprehend the power of it, we thought it was ludicrous. And it was, a complete lack of agency. But in a selfish way, it was fantastical. My breathing was normal, and Emily sat next to me.

“Did Paul… did he imprint on me?” I asked quietly, scared if I said it any louder id be ridiculed. Emily didn’t say anything, she just squeezed my hands gently.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight? I have some spare pyjamas; I can wash your uniform for tomorrow.” She asked, eyes searching my own. Nodding I waited as she left the room. She told me to start getting changed as she left, stripping down to my underwear I became oddly aware of how insane this was, but I trusted Emily. And I knew now, I was safe. She came in holding a brown tank top and white shorts, they were so soft as I put them on. I was still dazed as the panic left my system; every movement was a cloud in my mind.

“Would you like to join me?” she asked, as I lifted my head up in confusion she continued “I’m going to watch a film, we can watch it together, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” I replied, Emily put my clothes in the wash with some of her own and we got comfy on the sofa, I’d learnt the room with the lavender smelling bed was a guest room, and I was welcome to stay over whenever. Emily’s room was just down the hall. Her Gran had left her this house and she spent two years renovating it. She always made sure anyone was welcome here. I texted my parents to let them know I wouldn’t be home tonight, they told me to stay safe and call them if something is wrong. I was an adult, and I knew they liked knowing I was okay.

“Paul stays over most nights,” she said, braiding my hair, “but he sleeps on the couch. I can’t get him to take a room.” I was laying half on her chest half on her the sofa. I felt like a child. It was the most comforting experience of my life. We watched 2005 Pride and Prejudice. Laughing and swooning the whole time. We cried at the love in the film, the hand moments making us kick our feet, giggling. It was relaxing, to be with a friend. One that wasn’t hiding anything. I guess I would be the friend that was hiding something now to all my friends, to Jess, Bella, and Angela. But I couldn’t dwell on that. I told Emily about how I was feeling with Bella, and she told me about Leah, my stomach dropped when she told me Sam gave her that scar.

“I couldn’t be angry at him, what happened to him, to all the boys, it takes away their agency in emotional moments. I forgive him.” She told me, watching the film. Like this was second nature. Merely an afterthought. I knew I was safe here but was that just hysterics? Was I in danger and too naive to notice? No. Sam and Paul care for me. But Sam loves Emily? No. I reassure myself as I fall into a drowsy slumber as Emily ran her fingers through my hair. Sam can control it, so can Paul and Jared and Embry and Jake will be able to.

Warm arms lifted me, I felt the soft plush of the bed beneath me. I wanted to grab onto to the body holding me, my eyes wouldn’t open but I tried. A light chuckle sifted through the air as I finally let go.

A pink sunrise fell over me. I was drenched in the colours. Walking through the house I saw Paul, asleep on the sofa. The pink and purple began to fall onto him, he shifted awake as I made my way to the kitchen.

“Did I wake you?” I froze, looking at him through sleep festered eyes. He shook his head, smiling. We made coffee and cereal in silence, I the coffee and Paul the cereal. As we ate, I asked about Jake.

“He’s better now, the first shift is always the worst. What you did on the phone really helped.”

“All I did was keep him talking till you guys got there,” I said, finishing my cereal.

“He mentioned you called Bella an anchor, that helps more than you know.” He was looking at me intently. Suddenly I remembered my conversation with Emily last night.

“Paul…” Emily and Sam walked in, laughing with each other. I didn’t want to ask Paul with others around. He seemed brighter though, maybe he’d finally had a full night of sleep. Sleep, id fallen asleep with Emily on the couch and woken up in bed. Looking back at Paul, he was already watching me, waiting. “Did you take me to bed last night? You could’ve just woken me.” I laughed, trying to play off my feelings.

Sam laughed, sitting down with a coffee, “You were both sound asleep when we got back, no use waking you.” Emily looked at me, asking if id said anything, lightly shaking my head I pulled myself away from the conversation as they updated Emily on Jacob. From the window I saw the orange sun dance across the green summer leaves, sway through the crisp morning grass. The sun had risen by now, but the early morning was still prevalent in its colourful glory.

Sam called my name, pulling me out of my thoughts. “When do you start work?”

“9am,” I lied. Well, it wasn’t an actual lie, but I had decided. I wasn’t going to go to work today, Henry had been telling me I need to take advantage of the paid sick days we get, so today I will. I need to process what the hell just happened. Alone. As much as I want to be here, I don’t know how much more I can handle. Sam had told us he hadn’t expected Jake to shift so soon and Quil’s grandfather has noticed he has a fever. It’s happening too fast and is still don’t really know why I am involved. Expect I do, which makes it so much worse. I would get dropped of at work, and then catch a bus to First Beach, which yes was counter intuitive, but it felt wrong to tell the people who immediately accepted me I didn’t want to be around them right now. I’d tell them id get a ride home from Henry and just walk back home. No, I shouldn’t walk. I promised Sam I wouldn’t walk. I’ll get the bus home or ask Bella as awkward as it might be.

Paul eyed me, brow furrowing. Sam and Emily didn’t notice but I couldn’t help feeling like Paul could read my mind. It feels weird being known so well. I sat with them for an hour or so before going to get a shower and then get dressed, Emily had layed my clothes on my bed while I was in the shower, and I suddenly felt insanely sick at the thought of lying to her.

Wandering back into the kitchen I saw Paul wearing worker pants that were just wow. I looked away before he caught my gaze. My heart beating in my throat.

“Where are you working?” I asked, he was looking for a job before all of this.

“Sam’s construction, he let Jared and I join after we shifted, he runs the business you know?” he said looking at my clothes. Wide legged white pants and black shirt, I was holding my apron, the ugly thing.

“Actually, Sam’s gone in early, so can I drive you to work?”

I nod, grabbing my bag and kissing Emily’s cheek goodbye as she started working on a wooden chair. Emily sold wooden furniture, I made sure to make note of that since my parents were looking at getting a new kitchen done. As we left, I noticed Sam had taken Emily’s truck and left his own for Paul. Fuckers had planned this.

“you’re a horrible liar, you know.” Paul said as we drove away from Emily’s. Is he psychic? “Sam told me you normally finish early on Wednesday’s, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. I finish at 12, ill pick you up and explain everything.” I decided to play dumb.

“I thought you explained everything?” his laugh echoed in the car.

“We both know you’re too smart to think that.” The conversation ended, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not the same feeling as when Sam drove me, this was new.

“You can meet Henry when you pick me up.” I added, laughing at the thought.

“Who?” Paul said, the familiar jealousy peaking in his voice.

“Oh, he’s a real catch, total ladies’ man. I have a conspiracy that we’re psychically linked.” I said nonchalantly, absolutely doing it on purpose.

“That’s cool.” He said, sharply. These three hours were gonna go smoothly.

And they did. I was so excited for Paul to come pick me up I was practically jumping the whole three-hour shift. Henry had been side eyeing me all day, possibly worried I was on drugs or something.

“So, Paul’s going to pick me up and I’d like for you to meet him.” I told Henry as we stocked the shelves, or as I stocked them, and he micromanaged me.

“Eh okay.” He grumbled, I smiled, excited.

As 12 came I was practically glued to the window. Seeing Sam’s truck pull up my chest had a weight lifted off that I didn’t know was there. Pauls stocky figure walked up to the front door, and I beckoned him over to where I stood.

“Where’s this Henry then?” he asked, trying to seem calm.

“This way!” he must’ve been taken back by my excitement as he gasped slightly as I dragged him to the back of the store. “Henry! This is Paul.”

I watched as Pauls deflated face turned quickly into annoyance and relief as he saw Henry, who looked him up and down, grumbled and asked him if he could pick up some boxes for him. Paul agreed, but it didn’t feel like he had much choice in the matter. After ten minutes of Paul moving boxes around for Henry, I finally got him away, saying goodbye we left the store.

“You minx.” He laughed, opening my door for me.

Laughing I asked him what he was talking about.

“All morning. All morning! I spent worrying some hot bachelor called Henry had stolen your heart! Jared was getting annoyed at how pissy I was acting!” he whined, driving to LaPush.

We made it to first beach without Paul ripping my head off from annoyance. I tried not to dwell too hard on his blatant admission to his jealousy. But it made my head spin.

But he went silent as we walked to the rocks on the southside of the beach. Whatever he was about to tell me was very serious, and I was ready to hear. As we sat down, he looked at the necklace I was wearing, the citrine he bought me.

“You know when I bought you that necklace, I had no idea how beautiful it was.” He said, slowly looking up into my eyes.

“What do you mean? The lady handed it to you, I saw you look down at it.” I asked, searching his eyes for whatever he was trying to tell me.

“What do you remember about imprinting?” he asked, his hand lightly holding onto mine, the other splayed against the rocks. He took me off guard which must be visible on my face as he laughed at my expression.

“I remember you telling me about the imprint who saved the tribe from the vampires by sacrificing herself.” It was a harrowing tale, one that even as children Paul and I treaded on lightly.

“Uh huh, anything else?” he probed.

“I know how the elders described the imprint to feel.” At his silence I continued “that the universe centres around them,” I was whispering to him now, “that it is a love of the souls, bonded and combined.” He nodded.

“Anything else?”

“Paul why are you asking me this?” dread filled me, what if he had imprinted on someone else, I would respect it and understand but telling me like this had to be some form of torture. Deep down I knew that wasn’t the case.

“I imprinted on you.” My head whirled. Everything else became singular as I looked at Paul Lahote who became a multitude. “I was scared I’d imprint on someone else, and it’d be me loosing my agency in life you know,” I did, it was what I was worried about. “But I imprinted on you, at the beach. And I’ve always been in love with you. When we were kids and you would always climb the highest tree, never scared if you fell. When we’d braid each other’s hair. It’s always been you, even the fates agree.” The wind was knocked out of his lungs as I practically jumped onto him. My arms around his neck, his around my waist.

I pulled away. Remembering how this conversation started. “What did you mean, when you said you didn’t know how beautiful the necklace was?”

“That’s the other thing, turns out when we shift for the first time, we go colourblind.”

“What?”

“Wolves, they are naturally colourblind, Sam thinks that’s why we lose it, Jared and I used to think it was just another way the fates could steal life from us.” I listened intently. “That was until Sam imprinted on Emily. He said it was the most overwhelming experience of his life, not only because of the horrible family drama but because it was the first time in months, he had seen colour. We realised then that the only way we could see truly again was when we imprinted. You have to understand how terrifying it was after we’d first shifted, I thought I was dying” He took a deep, steadying breath. “After I first shifted you sent me a picture, do you remember?”

“Not really.” I admitted.

“It was of that cloud with the colours on it.” I nodded, remembering. It was a pileus cloud I’d seen in my back garden; he pulled out his phone. Scrolling sheepishly past the texts from him asking to talk to me and then texts from me, begging for an answer. He landed on a picture I sent, on the pileus cloud, they have colours sitting on them, rainbows laying on the soft clouds of the sky. Had I been taking my sight for granted? Spending my whole life gazing while he had it stolen from him?

“I cried for hours when you sent me this, I couldn’t see it, Sam had told me to cut off all contact with you and all I needed was you to- I don’t know- explain the colours to me since I couldn’t see them.” He breathed heavily; I could see the anger weighing on his shoulders once more. I didn’t interrupt him, just placed a hand on his thigh as an attempt to soothe. He smiled gently at this, still looking at the cloud. “It was two days after I’d shifted for the first time, and I was always so overwhelmed. I kept snapping and shifting in a fit of rage.”

As he waited for a response from me, I finally formed a semi-coherent sentence.

“I would’ve done the same. I can’t imagine how it- losing that- I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s those bloodsuckers.” He laughed. Smiling at me. We spoke for what felt like hours, it probably was but I didn’t mind. “I’m sorry to unload all of this onto you. I didn’t want to drag you into it, but you have to realise you call the shots, all you.”

“Is this why Sam didn’t pick me up yesterday?” I asked, remembering the hasty text Sam had sent me yesterday afternoon.

“Yeah,” he blushed, “I got angry at him, and he spent the whole day trying to convince me.”

“Couldn’t he just demand it?” the authority Sam had over the boys couldn’t be questioned, but it was a natural thing to him I felt it too.

“Yeah, but I know that he wanted me to make the choice, you’re my imprint after all.” He smiled, putting a hair behind my ear.

The sun had begun to set when Paul and I stopped talking, we’d spoke for hours. Catching up on each other’s lives, I told him about my fight with Quil and how I was feeling about Bella, and he listened. He told me about his dad, who’d decided to go work down south for a few months, leaving Paul the house to himself. That even though he gets the entire one-story building to himself he prefers to stay at Emily’s, he’d always hated being alone. He watched the sun set and I watched him. How it reflected on his clear skin, how his short hair was growing back. He’d explained that they’d all cut their hair after their first shift as to now only be practical but because they were grieving, grieving themselves. Paul was growing his hair again, determined to have a piece of himself back again, the hair length only mattered on the first few shifts. No one was sure why.

Going back to Sam’s truck I hold onto Paul’s hand, pulling him to a stop halfway across the beach. Getting closer to him I felt the warmth radiate from him, he couldn’t help but become the sun. The confused look on his face amused me, as I pulled him in and kissed him. His hand let go of mine as he wove his arms around my waist. My hands going to his back and his hair. He didn’t drive back to Emily’s. We spent the night in his house, the blue walls of his bedroom were known better than my own. Making out on his bed I sat on his lap, pulling his shirt of and then my own he grinned up at me.

“You’re so beautiful.” I didn’t say anything as I unhooked my bra, his jaw dropped slightly, and I blushed. He pulled his own jeans off and then switched our positions, so I was on my back as he took my white trousers of, discarding them somewhere in the room. I felt his lips on mine again which stopped me from staring at his well-defined chest, my hands felt him completely. I reached into his boxers as he whined slightly into my mouth at my slow and teasing actions.

“Don’t play with me.” He whispered into my ears as he ripped his boxers off, slowly taking my underwear off. As I felt him align himself, I looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but love.

Three weeks had passed since I found out about Paul’s imprint. Summer had begun to spread itself thinly and form into fall. I’d spoken to Quil, but he could tell I was hiding something. Especially since Jake had abandoned him without word and so did I. I knew he wanted to be apart of whatever was going on, but we all hoped he would never have to know, never feel the pain they all went through.

I spent most nights at Emily’s and some at Pauls but few and few at home. I wasn’t sure why my parents trusted my choices so much, but I figured they trusted Paul and I’d been a well-behaved teen. They did, however, begin to question why Bella Swan was constantly coming over asking for me. I couldn’t tell her. I still wasn’t over her not telling me anything. But Jake had ghosted her, just after I did. After the Cullen did. She had other friends, but it felt like a really shitty thing to do, I knew if I saw her, I’d just tell her everything. Even if she wouldn’t do the same for me.

I was at Emily’s when Embry, Jared, and Bella Swan herself came into the kitchen. She looked at me in shock and I gestured to the seat beside me, she shook her head. As Emily and I were informed on how Bella found herself in this predicament I laughed at the thought of Jake and Paul fighting, it didn’t surprise me. But I was shocked at Bella slapping him, she defended herself explaining she was angry and didn’t know we’d made up at this point. She didn’t know much. Jared told her that the pack was faster and better than the leaches, Bella seemed to feel more comfortable.

Sam, Jake, and Paul came into the house, Bella seemed to stow herself away in the corner. Her face went bright red after Paul apologised to her and kissed me, Sam complimented how well she took seeing two men turn into wolves in front of her and she laughed it off.

“How are you feeling?” Paul asked as I climbed into bed beside him.

“Tired, Bella gave me a hard time about me ignoring her, she’s right I guess.” Facing him in bed I tried to savour how the moon bounced off him. How he seemed to glow in the blue moonlight. He disagreed, but I knew Paul was biased he’d never really trusted Bella.

“What about Quil have you made up your mind on what you’re going to do?” He asked, kissing my nose as he pulled me to his chest.

“I’m going to go to his house tomorrow. I can’t tell him anything, but I need him to know I’m still his friend and I still love him. He’s one of my closest friends, his love is tough but its true you know?”

“I know.”

“How are you feeling?”

“everything’s getting calmer, but the red leech is still circling, these hikers need to learn to stay on the trail for their own sake.” He laughed; it wasn’t a happy laugh but an exhausted one. “Plus, Quil really might shift soon, I’m not sure how I feel about you going to see him in person.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Doesn’t make me worry any less.” He was holding me so close, our legs intertwined.

“He knows me better than anyone, which is scary but I won’t talk to him about the fight it doesn’t matter to me anymore. I can’t not have him in my life, it feels so good to be known so well. And not in the way you know me,” I clarified, “he knows me in a way that is tried and true, its not as intimate as how you know me, Quil challenges me, I challenge him. I can’t stand ignoring him.”

Paul nodded, he understood. He just hoped he didn’t shift in front of me.

“I love you.” He whispered into my hair.

“I love you more.” I whispered back, falling into a perfect sleep.

“Are you happy being with Paul?” Quil asked, grey hoodie swamping his tall figure.

“Yes.” I replied, arms crossed over my chest.

“I’m not surprised.” He sighed. Then, crossing the front room he looked out of his front window. “You really hurt me, you know.”

“I know.”

“And you can’t even tell me why!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You, Embry and Jake can’t tell me a single thing!” he yelled, still not looking at me. I had prepared for this, for him to hate me. I just didn’t expect it to feel so horrible.

“I’m sorry, Quil, I really am.” He looked at me, eyes desperate.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered. Tears in my eyes I ran to him, colliding with his chest we both cried on each other. “Remember we’re not keeping score, no arguments-”

“No winners.” I finished; we didn’t keep score.

As he pulled away, we both wiped at the tears streaming down our faces.

“Lahote? Really?” he laughed; I punched him in the arm. “Ow! Okay, okay.”

For now, everything was okay. I could handle okay.

pauls pinterest board

an:// i hoped you all loved reading this as much as i loved writing it! you can see why its taken me so long to actually write this :') Tumblr always gets rid of my paragraph spacing it kills me:( the word doc for this fic is 19 pages long! this is the longest fic i've written, im very proud of it!! requests are open, take care of yourself. i love you- em x

@ribbons-in-your-hair @notperfect-justme @thebestrouge [you guys asked me to tag you if i wrote anything about this headcannon! i hope you enjoy it!]

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Marlene Dietrich (Shanghai Express, Witness for the Prosecution, Morocco)—Bisexual icon, super hot when dressed both masculine and feminine, lived up her life in the queer Berlin scene of the 1920s, central to the 'sewing circle' of the secret sapphic actresses of Old Hollywood, refused lucrative offers by the Nazis and helped Jews and others under persecution to escape Nazi Germany, the love of my life

Xia Meng, also known as Hsia Moog or Miranda Yang (Sunrise, Bride Hunter)—For those who are familiar with Hong Kong's early cinema, Xia Meng is THE leading woman of an era, the earliest "silver-screen goddess", "The Great Beauty" and "Audrey Hepburn of the East". Xia Meng starred in 38 films in her 17-year career, and famously had rarely any flops, from her first film at the age of 18 to her last at the age of 35. She was a rare all-round actress in Mandarin-language films, acting, singing, and dancing with an enchanting ease in films of diverse genres, from contemporary drama to period operas. She was regarded as the "crown princess" among the "Three Princesses of the Great Wall", the iconic leading stars of the Great Wall Movie Enterprises, which was Hong Kong's leading left-wing studio in the 1950s-60s. At the time, Hong Kong cinema had only just taken off, but Xia Meng's influence had already spread out to China, Singapore, etc. Overseas Chinese-language magazines and newspapers often featured her on their covers. The famous HK wuxia novelist Jin Yong had such a huge crush on her that he made up a whole fake identity as a nobody-screenwriter to join the Great Wall studio just so he can write scripts for her. He famously said, "No one has really seen how beautiful Xi Shi (one of the renowned Four Beauties of ancient China) is, I think she should be just like Xia Meng to live up to her name." In 1980, she returned to the HK film industry by forming the Bluebird Movie Enterprises. As a producer with a heart for the community, she wanted to make a film on the Vietnam War and the many Vietnam War refugees migrating to Hong Kong. She approached director Ann Hui and produced the debut film Boat People (1982), a globally successful movie and landmark feature for Hong Kong New Wave, which won several awards including the best picture and best director in the second Hong Kong Film Award. Years later, Ann Hui looked back on her collaboration with Xia Meng, "I'm very grateful to her for allowing me to make what is probably the best film I've ever made in my life."

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Xia Meng:

Marlene Dietrich:

ms dietrich....ms dietrich pls.....sit on my face

its marlene dietrich!!!! queer legend, easily the hottest person to ever wear a tuxedo, that hot hot voice, those glamorous glamorous movies…. most famously she starred in a string of movies directed by josef von sternberg throughout the 1930s, beginning with the blue angel which catapulted her to stardom in the role of the cabaret singer lola lola. known for his exquisite eye for lighting, texture, imagery, von sternberg devoted himself over the course of their collaborations to acquiring exceptional skill at photographing dietrich herself in particular, a worthy direction in which to expend effort im sure we can all agree. she collaborated with many other great directors of the era as well, including rouben mamoulian (song of songs), frank borzage (desire), ernst lubitsch (angel), fritz lang (rancho notorious), and billy wilder (witness for the prosecution). the encyclopedia britannica entry im looking at while compiling this propaganda describes her as having an “aura of sophistication and languid sexuality” which✔️💯. born marie magdalene dietrich, she combined her first and middle names to coin the moniker “marlene”. she was a trendsetter in her incorporation of trousers, suits, and menswear into her wardrobe and her androgynous allure was often remarked upon. critic kenneth tynan wrote, “She has sex, but no particular gender. She has the bearing of a man; the characters she plays love power and wear trousers. Her masculinity appeals to women and her sexuality to men.” in the 1920s she enjoyed the vibrant queer nightlife of weimar berlin, visiting gay bars and drag balls, and in hollywood her love affairs with men and women were an open secret. she was an ardent opponent of nazi germany, refusing lucrative contacts offered her to make films there, raising money with billy wilder to help jews and dissidents escape, and undertaking extensive USO tours to entertain soldiers with an act that included her a playing musical saw and doing a mindreading routine she learned from orson welles. starting in the 50s and continuing into the mid-70s she worked largely as a cabaret artist touring the world to large audiences, employing burt bacharach as her musical arranger.

First of all, there are those publicity photos of her in a tux. Second of all, I have never been the same since knowing that she sent copies of those photos to her Berlin lovers signed "Daddy Marlene." Not only is she hot in all circumstances, but she can do everything from earthy to ice queen. Also, she kept getting sexy romantic lead parts in Hollywood after the age of 40, which would be rare even now. She hated Nazis, loved her friends, and had a sapphic social circle in Hollywood. She also had cheekbones that could cut glass and a voice that could melt you.

Her GENDER her looks her voice her everything

“In her films and record-breaking cabaret performances, Miss Dietrich artfully projected cool sophistication, self-mockery and infinite experience. Her sexuality was audacious, her wit was insolent and her manner was ageless. With a world-weary charm and a diaphanous gown showing off her celebrated legs, she was the quintessential cabaret entertainer of Weimar-era Germany.”

The bar scene in Morocco awoke something in me and ultimately changed my gender

"Her manner, the critic Kenneth Tynan wrote, was that of ‘a serpentine lasso whereby her voice casually winds itself around our most vulnerable fantasies.’ Her friend Maurice Chevalier said: ‘Dietrich is something that never existed before and may never exist again.’”

"Songstress, photographer, fashion icon, out bisexual phenom (notoriously stole Lupe Velez and Joan Crawford's men, and Errol Flynn's wife, had a torrid affair with Greta Garbo that ended in a 60-year feud, other notable conquests including Erich Maria Remarque -yes, the guy who wrote All Quiet on the Western Front- Douglas Fairbanks Junior, Claudette Colbert, Mercedes de Acosta, Edith Piaf), anti-Nazi activist. Marlene was a bitch - she had an open marriage for decades and one of her favorite things was making catty commentary about her current lover with her husband, and her relationship with her daughter was painful- but she was also immensely talented, a hard worker, an opponent of fascism and the hottest ice queen in Hollywood for a long time."

"She can sing! She can act! She told the Nazis to fuck off and became a US citizen out of spite! She worked with other German exiles to create a fund to help Jews and German dissidents escape (she donated an entire movie salary, about $450k, to the cause). She looks REALLY GOOD in a suit. If you're not convinced, please listen to her sing "Lili Marlene". Absolutely gorgeous woman with a gorgeous voice."

Gifset link

"Bisexual icon and Nazi-hater. Looks absolutely stunning in the suits she liked to wear. 'I dress for the image. Not for myself, not for the public, not for fashion, not for men'."

"would you not let her walk on you?"

[jxckchxmpi0n]

hi :) love your writing btw

could you possibly do something where jack and actress!reader are both in scream 6 and they’re like really close or in a relationship and she steals one of his hoodies or shirts and he notices while hanging out on sept or in his trailer or something? (prompt being “is that my shirt?”)

tysm ilyyy

Behind the Scenes

Jack Champion x femReader! | m.list

Summary: the on screen relationship started to form off-screen. You and Jack aren't against it.

Warning: just fluff

Word count: 509

Did not proofread.

Ahhh, hi love! I hope you enjoy this! Thank you for requesting this ♡

Edit: first small post <3

There was about a week left to film Scream Six. Over the last few months, you have grown so close with the cast, both you, Jack and Devyn were welcomed with open arms. There was always something fun happening on set with everyone.

And with the last few days of your shoot, you decided to hang out longer on set even if you were done. At some point you and Jack became inseparable. always being at each other's sides having inside jokes. everyone saw the feelings you two had for each other and so did you, but both of you wanted to wait until filming and the press tour were done before going any further.

you were waiting for him in his trailer while he finished shooting his last scene. mindlessly scrolling through your phone you looked up seeing the door open. he came in with his blue shirt with fake blood on the front when he saw you he had this big smile. "oh there you are i was looking for you" he came in and closed the door behind him.

"been here the whole time" you sat up a little bit so he could sit next to you. he had a tired expression "long shoot?" you asked turning to him you rested on the back of the couch holding your head up.

he took the spot next to you closing his eyes for a moment and nodded. you kept quiet knowing he needed the silence. he eventually turned his head to you with a small smile on his lips. "what?" your voice was in a low whisper.

he lets his eyes linger on your face taking in all your little details. his eyes drifted taking in the familiar color jacket. he lifted his head and looked at the jacket closer then looked back at you.

you had a small smile on your face the corners of your lips tugged up as you looked at him. he reached out grabbing the material. then looked back at you. "is- is that mine?" he asked with a softness and with a chuckle following it.

you looked down and smiles "i got cold" you didn't answer his question so he looked at you reached up to lift your chin up.

"did you take my jacket?" he asked his voice soft but also raspy from being tired.

you nodded "i was cold and it was just here on the couch" a big smile took over his face as he thought about how cute you were. his hand brushing your jawline so softly.

"you know i like you wearing it" he said softly. your cheeks filled with a heat as you blushed.

your heart beating fast at this little moment. his chest also pounding from his heart rate. "keep wearing it" he let go of your chin and let his hand rest back into his lap.

you guys stayed in his trailer for another hour just talking and sharing soft little touches. the desire for the press tour and filming wanting to be over faster.

[bitchinbarzal]

thirteen | Mat Barzal

summary: the little green monster comes out when you’re wearing another jersey.

-

You and Mat had an argument about Mat’s newfound friendship with the new islanders presenter.

You’d seen them after one of his games, they were no longer filming their interview and instead were just talking.

Admittedly, you felt a pang of jealousy watching the scene unfold before you but then it all came to a head when you returned home and mentioned it to him.

He blew up, accusing you of thinking he was cheating, that you didn’t trust him. Essentially just blaming you for this whole argument.

You didn’t retaliate, opting to get your side out another way. Because when he goes low, you go lower.

So when the rangers found themselves at UBS arena, you were wearing blue.

“He’s gonna kill you” Sydney laughed as she found you at the bar, looking at your jersey before catching the name and number on the back.

“Oh my god! He’s gonna really kill you!”

You laugh and do a twirl for her “Like?”

“What did he do?”

You giggled and explained the situation to her “Oh my god, what a dick! Also she has totally been making the eyes at Matt this week too I get where you’re coming from”

“Right?!” You say, holding onto her arm as you both laugh about the situation.

In the suite, Alexis found you and looked at your jersey with wide eyes “Oh he fucked up!”

“Very!” Syd adds from her seat in the front and you smile at her playfully before turning to Alexis

“Me and Mat had a fight and I’m giving him a taste of his own medicine”

“Oh girl don’t explain! I’m on your side!”

The game is rough, as per usual when these two teams meet during the season.

Mat’s never one to get involved in the fighting, typically just sitting and looking pretty which you liked because it meant you were never worried about him.

That was until the period break, Mat was pulled for yet another interview by her. In which she showed him a fab picture of you in your rangers jersey

“So Mat, we hear your girlfriend is repping the Rangers tonight or better yet repping another number thirteen?!”

He looks confused until she shows him the image, his eyes immediately filling with anger.

There you were standing at the bar, in his arena wearing your ex boyfriends jersey. The name Lafrenière where Barzal usually sits.

“Uh… I didn’t know” he laughs it off but anyone who knows him can see his mind running a million miles a minute.

As soon as the interview is done he’s having to go back out, no time to text you and tell you to take it off.

Instead he goes out on the ice like a raging bull.

You watch from your spot in the box as the puck drops and Mat heads strait for Alexis on the ice, taking him straight to the floor.

You gasp as they hit the ground and begin fighting.

It doesn’t last long, Mat being sent to the box straight after. You see his face on the jumbotron, his nose is bent the wrong way and there’s blood rolling down his cheek.

You don’t say anything else, simply curling into yourself and thinking about what you’d caused. It was meant to be harmless, just a way to get back at mat for what he’d said but now his nose was broken, you felt horrible and you’re sure Alexis was out for the rest of the game.

Mat always had a jealous streak in him, from day one. You met at an event where you were Alexis’ date, Mathew introduced himself to you and immediately fell.

He waited months, scrolling through your socials for the day you’d be single and when he finally heard you had broken up he grasped the opportunity but that didn’t stop the comments and his own insecurities getting to him about your relationship.

By the end of the game you’re not celebrating like the rest of the girls, you silently made your way down to wait for Mat.

When he comes out of the locker room sporting a wrapped nose you wince. He looks at your jersey and growls

“Take it off for fuck sake”

“I don’t have anything on underneath” you mumble, the sleeves now crumbled up into your palms as you clutch them anxiously.

He doesn’t respond just walking to the car, you begin walking behind him. There was no congratulations kiss, no conversation as you sat in the car silently as he drove back to your apartment in Manhattan.

Traffic was bad which didn’t help Mat’s mood.

You tried to turn on the radio but he muted it immediately.

It wasn’t until you got to sunnyside when Mat said

“I would never hurt you like this”

You turn to him, his eyes still on the road

“Mat I’m sorry… I was annoyed about the whole-“

“I told you there was nothing happening between us! You were the one convinced I was doing something”

“I know that! And I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine!”you shouted, angry he wasn’t listening.

“Giving me a taste of my own medicine? y/n he was your fiancé… do you think I don’t feel bad about that? That you were actually so in love with him you wanted to marry him at one point!”

You sunk into the seat of the Range Rover and mumbled “Yeah well now I see it was a stupid idea”

Arriving at your apartment, Mat waited for you to get out and you asked “Are you coming in?”

“I’m going back to Long Island. I think maybe we were a mistake”

Your heart dropped in your chest and you leaned back into the car “Mat I’m sorry ok! It was stupid and I’m so sorry-“

“I’ve told you how he makes me feel y/n and you threw it in my face, in public infront of everyone to see and you embarrassed me. I don’t think I want to go through life constantly worried about everything and feeling insecure”

Tears were rolling down your cheeks “Mat please… I’m so sorry baby it’s only you, I’ll take it off, I’ll stop with the games just please-“

“I love you, but I’ve got to protect myself first” he says, starting the car again and waiting for you to step away before he drives off back home.

Leaving you standing there watching the Range Rover leave, your heart going with it.

[autumnmobile12]

All right, here's the thing about the Todoroki fire-users.

Most forms of glass melt at a temperature of 1,400°C to 1,600° C.

Orange flames have a range of 1100°C to 1200°C.

So unless either of them can exceed the 1400°C threshold and get into the white flame range (1300°C - 1500°C), Shouto and Endeavor cannot melt glass.

But with a blue flame that burns 1,400°C-1,600°C, this bitch sure can.

So now that in the Ambush Simulation AU I've revealed Nine and his entourage are the LoV, imagine the opening scene of Heroes Rising:

Whichever henchmen they've hired to transport the cargo in that car chase scene are careening down the highway, the Pros are in pursuit...and so's the Vanguard.

Car accidents caused by the fleeing villains have put Rock Lock and company out of commission, but Shimura's motorcycle can maneuver through just fine, so he and his passenger are still in the game like it's a Greek chariot race. Nobody really knew the Vanguard was going to make an appearance, nobody knows how they got the info on what was happening, but hey, they're provisionally licensed and can operate under Pros now, so no one's going to complain about the extra manpower on their side.

So my thoughts and prayers are with the poor driver of the armored vehicle whose sole job is to focus on the road. He just wants to survive the night without getting arrested, his comrades can worry about the Pros behind them, he's more concerned about the Pros blockading the road in front of them, one of whom is Endeavor. He's not paying attention to that loud thunk he heard on the roof.

Things are already looking a little sticky...

...and then this crazy bastard appears in the windshield and starts melting the glass. Not breaking it; it's too thick to break without a weapon. Just slowly melting it so the poor guy has enough time to contemplate and regret some key life choices.

(There's a very specific image in my head here and it's the drowned corpse scene from the anime Ghost Hunt if anyone's familiar with that one.)

Anyway, the getaway driver just panics and veers over the guardrail and down the mountainside as it goes in the film, which pretty much leaves Shimura to stop his bike and stare alongside Endeavor down at the path of destroyed vegetation in horror as the sound of screeching metal fades to silence.

Shimura: ....

Endeavor: .... *slowly turns to look at Shimura*

Shimura: *doesn't look up* Hey, don't look at me. You created that monster.

...

And recall that scene ends with Endeavor heading down the hill to investigate the crash and finds Hawks already there:

Touya: What's the situation with my leg? It feels like it's either been broken or impaled.

Hawks: Actually, it's both. That's an...impressive compound fracture.

Touya: All that and I only got a busted leg? *sits up* Oh, no wait, fuck, there's two of you and Endeavor's multiplying.

Endeavor: *fed up* ....scared me to death, you shit for brains. Where's the League?

Hawks: I think they managed to warp out at the last minute. Genius here is the only body I found breathing or otherwise.

Touya: *cackling* Shut the fuck up, Feathers!

...

Shimura: You have got to stop smiling like you regularly devour the souls of small children and their pets.

Touya: *adrenaline wearing off, pain finally setting in* I have no idea what you're talking about.

Rock Lock: *standing over both of them* Exactly what was your plan back there?

Touya: Obviously, I was thinking I could get control of the steering wheel. Not my fault the driver had the nerves of a dandelion. Also, I'm not the one who thought chasing down an armored vehicle with four-door sedans was a good idea, so why I am the only stupid one here? Now everyone be quiet, my head is splitting and I just suffered the indignity of being carried away from an accident by my father.

Endeavor: Carrying you was easier when you were four.

Touya: The last time you carried me is when I was four!

[vidavalor]

You can leave your hat on

So Crowley comes up for a nightcap in The Blitz, Part 2 and takes off the wool overcoat the minisode introduced but leaves his hat on.

If you then go backwards and look at what he had on and when in The Blitz, Parts 1 & 2, it gets even more amusingly Ineffable Husbands pretty quickly...

When Crowley shows up in the church in The Blitz, Part 1 in his suit with the hat on, he's the last character to arrive in the scene but the clinch of a subtle commentary happening via the costuming by way of hats. Until the early 1960s, as you probably already know, a man didn't leave the house without a hat on, but they would take them off as a sign of respect in different places indoors-- churches and theatres among them. Women were not expected to do so, largely because the style of women's hats were often the kind that were pinned into their hair and to take it off was a whole damn thing that required more extensive grooming than is possible when just entering/exiting a place. As a result, the Nazis in the church scene are following social custom-- the male Nazis have their hats off because they're inside a church but Greta is not violating anything by having her (rather fabulous, ngl) hat on. Aziraphale, of course, took his hat off and has it in his hand for the duration of the scene.

Crowley kept his on and we're bemused more than anything because we know that while this is technically impolite, Crowley is far more of a good presently-man-shaped-being than these half-witted Nazi spies, right? Which is basically the point of the commentary-- that the rebels are often more morally sound than the conformers. Also goes without saying that Crowley shouldn't have the sunglasses on in church either (and that this is all set at night and during a blackout makes the fact that he does all the funnier) but Crowley can't take the glasses off around humans so... but then, after the rest of The Blitz, Part 1, we then hop into The Bentley with Crowley & Aziraphale at the start of The Blitz, Part 2 and find that Crowley has a new wardrobe addition:

Crowley is now wearing a black wool dress overcoat over his suit. Yes, they're magical and can regulate their body temperatures without actually needing the clothes they wear but the clothes they wear are also part of blending in with the humans of their day and we're now reminded that the 1941 part of The Blitz was going on over the winter into the early spring, something we could forget about momentarily when everyone had their coats off in the church but for Aziraphale, who has just worn the same coat for awhile now. This then serves to show us that Crowley got out of The Bentley outside of the church to go rescue Aziraphale and stopped to take his winter coat off and leave it in the car before doing so, all while choosing to not leave his hat behind as well. Yeah, wearing your hat into a church as a demon could be-- or only be-- about being a demon but we're going to see pretty soon that it's not *just* about that. So, why take his coat off?

Because he wants his angel to see his suit.

Crowley wears a lot of black and he had to be careful not to be mistaken for SS, so he's added in some color. He has some angelic white in the form of a hankerchief and a shirt that's a shade of grey that makes it actually look blue-- wearing his Aziraphale colors, we see-- and a snazzy red tie. You can't see this very well if he has his overcoat on so he left the coat in the car, consciously wanting to look as dashing as possible when showing up to grand romantic gesture Aziraphale.

When they get to the Windmill Theatre, Crowley wears both the hat and coat into the theatre-- but he takes the hat off once they're inside. Churches can go pound sand but Mrs. H? Crowley wouldn't dare disrespect her or her theatre lol. Aziraphale also takes his hat off in the theatre and we see that he does in every place of reverence to him, as he also takes his hat off in the magic shop later on. Crowley then wears the hat and coat both back from the theatre to the bookshop and once he settles in there to help Aziraphale prepare for his magic show, he *settles in*, as we know, tossing his hat on an angel statue, hanging up his overcoat, and unbuttoning and opening up his suit jacket as he sits down. The jacket now open, the design on his tie is now visible for the first time. Aziraphale is amusingly invested in his magic but when he does get around to unburying his nose from his autographed Prof. Hoff magic book, he can look his full at Crowley's whole ensemble here, which Crowley has been alternately hiding and revealing in bits and pieces so far (like a certain show we know lol.)

Crowley wears all of it on their date to the magic shop but keeps his overcoat open and takes his hat off again at The Windmill when he's in the audience and on stage with Aziraphale. However, after the performance, when Furfur confronts them, Crowley has the hat back on-- while he's lounging on the couch, alone with Aziraphale in the dressing room. They weren't exactly about to leave in that moment when Furfur showed up. Aziraphale is still in costume and they're still chatting about the performance. Crowley isn't standing by the door waiting for him to get his stuff so they can go and so already has his hat on. He's sitting on the couch. But the hat's back.

After Aziraphale manages to set Furfur up in this scene, we then next see them again in the bookshop, drinking Chateauneuf-du-Pape and talking about how Aziraphale saved the photo. Crowley's overcoat is nowhere to be seen, presumably hung up on the coat rack in the front part of the shop, but he's kept the hat on and, at this point, there's no other possible reason to not have taken it off but for that Aziraphale likes the hat. A lot.

(And yes, before anyone messages me, I know that's Terry Pratchett's hat. In the context of GO, though, that's Crowley's 1941 hat.)

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 1

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’, you decide to check it out. 

Chapter One: Of Breakups and New Housing

You’re sitting on the curb next to several suitcases and trash bags full of your belongings, feeling humiliated as cars pass by. You can’t fucking believe you thought it would be a good idea to rent an off campus apartment with your boyfriend—well, now ex-boyfriend, of three years. It’s not even a full two months into the semester and you both already decided to call it quits. Things had been rocky over the summer to begin with, but you hoped living together would fix it. 

You were wrong. And stupid for letting him put only his name on the lease.

So what are you gonna do now? You can’t call your parents, they told you this was a bad idea from the start. You can’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they were right. Your friends are all in the dorms and, sure, you can crash with them for a couple nights but you need to find something for the remainder of the year. 

You take out your phone, wiping the tears that fall from your eyes as you start looking for somewhere to live. A one bedroom apartment by yourself is completely out of the monthly budget your parents send. You’ll have to settle on a room or some sort of shared living environment. 

Your scrolling stops when you see a post that says ‘FREE IN-HOUSE STAY’. You click on it to read more. 

FREE IN-HOUSE STAY

It’s that time of year again. The members of Sigma Kappa Zeta (SKZ) have beds to fill. Stay will be free of charge, however there are stipulations. Further details will be provided in person. Send a direct message if you’re interested and we will provide the interview date.

You’ve heard of the SKZ fraternity in passing, but never participated much in Greek life on campus. The post feels a little sketchy, if you’re being honest with yourself, but you send the email anyways. If you can pocket the money your parents are sending and stay somewhere for free, maybe you can turn this shitty situation around in your favor. 

You receive an email the following day that advises you to fill out an NDA and an application complete with a picture of yourself. You also go to a nearby clinic to complete a drug test and various other checks. Your interest in the ad is piqued, but the night spent on the floor of your friends dorm encourages you to pursue it.   

Two days later you find yourself standing outside of the SKZ house with ten other women. The house is in a gated community and sits on a pretty large lot, enough room between it and the next that neighbors probably didn’t mind a bunch of college students staying there. It’s a three-story home and not too far from campus, maybe a thirty minute walk. 

At 1:00pm the door opens and a tall, kinda lanky boy with a slender face greets you all. His eyebrows and most of his eyes are hidden behind his bangs, but he dons a welcoming smile. He’s wearing jeans and a black shirt with ΣΚΖ written across the chest in green letters. 

“Please, come in,” he says, gesturing for you all to enter. 

You all huddle in the foyer and he closes the door when the last girl enters before leading you into the living room. There’s a large, navy blue sectional where you all sit. When he exits the room, you fold your hands in your lap and cross your legs, shaking your nerves out through your foot. as you wait for whatever is about to happen.

You hear footsteps coming down the hall and eight men enter the room. If your life were a movie (it most definitely isn’t, you’re sleeping on a floor, remember?), this scene would play out in slow motion. They exude an air of confidence and nonchalance all at the same time. They’re all of similar heights, with hair color ranging from black to blonde, some are lanky, some are muscular—one is flat-out buff, and they’re all Korean. They’re…handsome? The word doesn’t feel like it suffices, though. Each and every one of them are breathtaking in a way that feels completely unfair and makes you question why you’re even there. 

They spread out in a line in front of the TV mounted on the wall opposite the sectional. They’re all wearing the same thing—jeans and the black shirt with their fraternity initial across the front. 

“Thank you for coming here today, ladies,” one of them starts to speak with a light Australian accent. 

As your eyes focus on him, he looks familiar. He’s in one of your classes. He seemed rather quiet and reserved in class, but here he’s easily taking charge and leading the situation. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment and he offers a tight-lipped half-smile and nod. 

“I’m Chan,” he continues. “The is Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin.”

Each member waves as he gestures to them and says their name. Seungmin is the one who had opened the door. 

“We’re sure you’re curious as to what our post entails…let me explain.” Chan begins. “Here at Sigma Kappa Zeta, we strongly pursue the strongest version of ourselves. We work hard, study hard, and play hard. We want all of our members to be at their best at all times. We cannot achieve the goals and dreams we have if we are weak in any area. Which brings us to having you here today.”

Your eyes dart to the other men standing in the line, but it’s impossible to read their expressions. 

“We are looking for four women to reside in our home. Your duties will be cooking and cleaning for the household, and pleasing the members you are assigned to.” 

You can only blink as you stare at him. Assigned to? And did he say please the members? Does he mean fuck?

“We believe that with these essential needs met,” he continues without missing a beat. As if he hasn’t just uttered something completely scandalous. “Our members will be free to flourish and earn our spots next to our SKZ predecessors.” 

He stops for a moment and steps forward from the others.

 “I know how this sounds. Misogynistic. Throughout the many years of this tradition, it has proved to work in our Stays’ favor as well, though. You’ll have your needs met, less stress and many Stays have reported a boost in their overall happiness and confidence.” He says. “We know you are students, too, and we don’t want to impede on your education or your own personal goals. That being said, it’s not a position suitable for everyone, we know that. We also know, that should you choose to participate, you will have an invaluable sense of community throughout your time here. You will have free room and board, and be allowed time to focus on your own success. Any resources we have access to can be yours as well.”

He claps his hands together.

“Now that you know what this entails, please remain seated if you’re still interested. If not, kindly exit—but we would like to remind you of the NDA you signed.”

He pauses for a beat. Two girls stand and promptly exits the home. You stay rooted in your seat. You’re a decent cook. You can clean. You think you could be a good fit for the position. You’ve also been with the same guy since your freshman year, so the prospect of experiencing something new in any capacity intrigues you. And honestly, right now, a free bed sounds more tantalizing than the floor, doesn’t it? You subconsciously roll out the kink in your neck at the thought. 

“Eight of you still here,” he says with a nod. “We’ll call each of you up, you’ll introduce yourself, walk past each member, then take your seat. We will then leave to deliberate. When we come back, we’ll let you know which of you are staying and who you’re assigned to.”

You shift around in your seat and nod your head. Chan steps back in line and calls the first name. You watch as each girl walks in front of the men, wondering what’s going through their head—what are they looking for exactly? 

When you hear your name called, your heart begins to race. You stand and announce your name, your major, and year in school. You then walk towards Jeongin and slowly make your way to Chan. It’s quick, but not painless. It’s fucking nerve-racking as they each stand there, stone faced. 

When all the girls are seated on the couch again, the men exit the room. You’re all quiet as you wait for them to come back. It takes nearly half an hour. 

Chan announces the names. The first girl called is assigned to Jeongin and Han. The second is assigned to Felix and Lee Know. The third goes to Seungmin and Changbin. 

There are five of you left on the couch. You begin to feel nervous that you may not be chosen, but the next name that falls from Chan’s lips is yours. 

Your try your best to hide your surprise as you stand and step forward, hearing that you’re with Chan and Hyunjin. 

“Thank you, ladies, for coming today. If you haven’t graduated next year, we welcome you to come back again.” Chan says to the others on the couch before showing them to the door. 

When he returns, the eight of them shift around to stand in front of their assignee.

In front of you is Chan. You can’t help but notice the way the sleeves fit tightly around his biceps, and the veins protruding from his arms. Hyunjin is standing next to him—he’s taller than Chan, but a little more thin. His overall presence is softer. You try not to stare too much. 

“We’ll give you a tour of the place, show you where you’re staying and then you may retrieve your belongings and return by 5:00pm to prepare dinner. You will cook for whoever you’re assigned to, and get to know each other over dinner.” Chan continues to take charge. 

You’re then led on a tour of the house. The first floor has the living room, kitchen, and a bathroom. The kitchen has two separate stoves, a huge pantry and a ton of cabinet space. There’s even an island with bar stools along one side of it. They then take you all down to the basement where there’s a pool table, an old keg, a bar, TV, and beer pong table. 

On the second floor is four bedrooms. They tell you who resides on each floor, but do not allow you into the rooms unless it’s someone you’re assigned to. Hyunjin is on the second floor. 

He opens the door to the room and you peek inside. You see that there’s a Queen sized bed, dresser, and desk covered in art supplies. Next to his bed is a twin sized bed, bare of any sheets. Is that where you’ll sleep? You wonder. 

“The bathroom at the end of the hall on the second floor is strictly for you all to use,” Chan announces as you all make your way up to the next floor.

On the third floor, you’re allowed to see Chan’s room. It’s significantly larger than Hyunjin’s, with it’s own bathroom. He also has a queen bed, nightstands, a dresser and desk. However, the twin sized bed is further from his own, against the opposite wall. It, too, is bare of any sheets. 

After the tour, everyone breaks off into groups of whomever their paired with. You’re in the kitchen with Hyunjin and Chan standing on either side of you. You exchange numbers with both of them. 

“So you’re majoring in Biology?” Hyunjin speaks to you for the first time. 

You nod, unable to find your voice. Still somewhat in shock of what the hell is even happening.

“She’s nervous,” Chan says, easily able to read you.  

“Don’t be,” Hyunjin says with softened eyes. “It sounds more intimidating than it really is. This is a mutual thing, okay? We help each other.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly.

“Do something simple for dinner tonight,” Hyunjin continues. “Pasta? With shrimp?”

He looks over to Chan who shrugs and nods in response. 

“We’re not as demanding as the others—we won’t be expecting full course meals.”

“You got lucky,” Chan adds. 

Got lucky? Did you? Or did you just get yourself into an inexplicable situation? They didn’t mention anything about what should happen if you change your mind. Are you even allowed to? Perhaps you should have read through the NDA a little better. First the lease, now this…you’re not the best with contracts, are you? 

Chan produces a credit card from his wallet and hands it to you. 

“Return with your things by 5:00pm. You can get groceries and bedding with this. Two twin-sized sets.”

You take the card from him and put it in your pocket. 

“We’ll see you soon,” Hyunjin says in a sing-songy voice with a smile. 

“See you,” you say lightly and try to return the smile. 

You’re still feeling awkward about the entire ordeal, but you’re somewhat at ease at how respectful they all seem. You’re not sure if you’ll be forced to do anything you don’t want to…but as you think about how handsome every single man in the house is…will you eventually want to?

After going to get groceries and bedding (two sets), you get your belongings from your friends dorm then take an Uber back to SKZ house. 

You’re a little early, but the door is open. You place your personal things to the side and go to the kitchen to start on dinner. You’re thankful they chose an easy meal, but go the extra mile to make the Alfredo sauce from scratch. It’s one of the few recipes you remember by heart from your mother. You season the shrimp and cook it up with butter and garlic. 

The other girls start to arrive and space in the kitchen becomes severely limited, even with two stoves for you all to use. You start to wonder if they’ll all have dinner at the same time every day because that may prove to be quite a challenge. You all move around each other easily enough, but you don’t really say much. 

When the food is done and plated, you send Hyunjin and Chan a text that dinner is ready. 

They come into the kitchen moments later, grab their plates, then lead you down to the basement for the second time today. 

It’s definitely not a fancy or romantic environment. Sitting at a beer pong table and seated on fold out chairs, but you’re not uncomfortable. Nervous as shit. But not uncomfortable. 

You wait for them to eat first. They both nod appreciatively after taking their fist bite. 

“You must have a lot of questions,” Chan says, twirling pasta around his fork. 

“Ask us anything,” Hyunjin prompts. 

You’re silent for a moment, chewing your food. You have what feels like a million questions, and want to get the most important one out of the way first.

“Am I gonna be fucking you both?”

Hyunjin coughs on the food he’s eating and Chan let’s out a soft chuckle. He hands Hyunjin his glass of water.

“Well…yes,” is Chan’s blatant reply. 

You expect him to say more, but he doesn’t. 

“Like…at the same time or is there some sort of schedule or…?” You trail off.

Hyunjin, finally recovered from his coughing fit replies, “It’s really up to the three of us to decide specifics. You’ll be in either of our rooms, on a rotating schedule. We could do every three nights. Monday-Wednesday and Thursday-Saturday? Sunday will be your choice.”

You nod slowly, more in understanding than agreement at this particular moment. 

“This tradition works best when it operates like a well oiled machine,” Chan says. “Always be honest with us. Let us know if you aren’t feeling well, if you have your period—anything.”

“There’s actually an app we can all access if you’re uncomfortable telling us, we can use that.” Hyunjin adds. 

“And when it comes to cooking and cleaning, you and the other girls can work out whatever kind of schedule works best for all of you.” Chan continues. 

The absurdity of the arrangement starts to feel less worrisome as they talk. The situation itself is still quite insane, but they speak about it so casually that it seems normal. 

They allow you to pester them with questions as you finish up the meal. They’re all business majors, Hyunjin’s minor is Art and Chan’s is music. They’re all legacies at Sigma Kappa Zeta—meaning their fathers, and grandfathers for some, had been members too. They have all been on a certain career track since they were born to father’s that are successful business owners in Korea and Australia. They each came to the states in high school, studied at a prestigious boarding school and now here they all are, in college, together. 

You can’t fathom having your entire life planned out that way. Perhaps it would take out some of the things you stress about regarding your future, though. Clearly, their parents all want what’s best for them. 

They explain a few other rules like—you’re not allowed to date or have sex with anyone outside of the members, and that’s a rule everyone in the house follows. Failure to adhere will result in immediate removal from the home. 

After you’ve asked all your questions, you all head back up stairs. The others are scattered throughout the house, some at the dinning room table, some in the living room. Through the sliding glass door leading to the backyard, you see a few of them out there too. 

“We’ll handle the dishes for tonight,” Hyunjin tells you, taking the plate and glass from your hands. 

“Take your things upstairs, make up your bed in each of our rooms. There’s some closet and drawer space in each for you.” Chan says. 

“Where am I sleeping tonight?” You ask. 

“It's Sunday. Your choice,” replies Hyunjin. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s really just where you’ll sleep. It’s not like you won’t be able to interact with the other person or anyone else in the house based on where you sleep, okay?”

You nod. 

They take off towards the kitchen. You retrieve your belongings and head up stairs. In Hyunjin’s room you make the bed with the dark blue bedding set—it’s adorned with different flower types and feels fitting. You recalled seeing the flowers he was painting on his desk when you made this choice. You’re not sure how to divide up your clothing but decide to place a bit of everything in both rooms. 

When you make it up to Chan’s room, you put away the rest of your clothes then make up the bed here too. The set you chose for his room is black with teal and purple nebula on it. He has LED lights lining all four walls, near the ceiling. You thought it might look nice when they’re turned on. 

After making the bed, you sit down on and allow yourself a break to think.

You now have to decide who's room you’ll be sleeping in tonight. 

[ read chapter two here ]

a/n: yeah, this was a random idea that i'm just gonna roll with. no idea where its gonna go yet, but this will be fun to write. have to set the scene with this first chapter, the smut is coming, don't worry :)

[lover-of-mine]

Welcome to the use of blue and green with 911 couples is not confined to clothing and how I believe this applies to buddie since season 2, a masterpost. (this does contain an explanation of the use of blue and green in the more obvious way, the clothes, so even if you don't believe the other elements of the scene part, this could still bring some clarity on the way blue and green is important)

Okay, so, after 706 a lot of people said they thought about me with the buddie/bathena blue and green scene, and I LOVE THAT, but a few people also came to ask me to explain more about the blue and green in general and why that is important and I realized my blue and green thoughts are scattered into multiple posts because I did figure out more stuff since I wrote the first one and season 7 is giving me more things to support the 2 main color theory theories I have when it comes to buddie/Buck, so I decided I need to write one long post about it all, including thoughts on 706 specifically.

Okay, so easy pattern to spot first, the blue and green thing is used with a lot of couples throughout the show, core couples, adjacent couples, random people in calls, the blue and green is used in a major piece of clothing in a couple, a shirt, a jacket, a dress, after s6 the use of pants was introduced more explicitly, and that has transferred to s7, but it is something heavily used since s2 (I can't find a conclusive example in s1 and the first obvious example is madney's first scene in 206) (this will have a bunch of tiny images because I'm trying to stay within the image limit, but if you click on them you can zoom in if tumblr doesn't decide to hellsite, I made them high quality enough)

And it is not just about meant-to-be couples, it's literally just a way to exemplify romantic connection. And while it is used a lot with most of the couples we see, the easiest couple to track is madney, since they have a lot of blue and green scenes, tracking back all the way down to their first scene, but bathena also have quite a few scenes. I love the scene at the station in 308 (last column, 3rd row down) because the cutout of kid Bobby makes it so there's a double blue Bobby there.

So the clothes element is very easy to track. It is a very real aspect of the show. And that is interesting when you consider the actual color theory aspect of it, because blue and green are analogous colors, which means they are right next to each other in the color wheel, and that's a color scheme used to create a harmonious look, it's about cohesion, creating visual unity, and it is what this accomplishes, the couples look balanced even if we don't fully register why, they just naturally work well together and that translates even if you don't know color theory.

This is the part we know exists in the show, but the thing is, I don't believe the show only uses that with the clothes, and again, madney is the easiest way to track that.

I noticed this while making a 512 set for the hiatus rewatch since I was focusing on the scenery to pick the shots I wanted because something about that episode is that it is green in nature since it is a Saint Patrick's Day episode. But everything about madney that episode is blue and green even when madney isn't dressed in blue and green. Pretty much everything about it has blue or green elements.

Maddie is wearing blue in the video, Chim is wearing green when he watches it, she's in blue while she's alone (even her hospital gown is blue, and that's not a common thing for the show), he's in green when he's alone, so we are still in the color scheme, there is a lot of green in the background that makes Chim and his vest stand out, we have green walls, that green bench, the blue red sox merch on the walls. But when they meet again, they are in neutral-colored clothing, contrasting with the background, and when Maddie tells Chim she wants to go home, both of them have blue and green shirts that are covered by a jacket, so the blue and green are not a focal point even if it's there, probably because they are not back in a place where they can get back together yet, and they are explicitly in blue and green in 601 when they do get back together.

They also did the whole make the episode blue and green with 706.

The backgrounds are very blue or green or both, a lot of the people are wearing blue or green, Maddie's phone is green, Chim's car is blue, there is a lot of blue and green happening there.

Something else about madney being blue and green is that their house has a lot of blue and green decorations. So, I definitely wanna say that the blue and green are being completed by other elements of the scene.

But I obviously have examples with other couples.

While doing the rewatch sets for 606 I noticed there are a few examples using Henren and other elements of the scene, 606 is also the episode that allowed me to include pants into this madness.

The thing about henren is that they don't have a lot of blue and green scenes, the 2 we had before s7, because s7 did gave us a few more, are in when they decide on fostering and when Eva comes back the last time, but since their color palette is based on patterns a lot, I decided maybe I should expand my definition of what counted, that gives us one of the flashbacks, because Karen's pants are patterned in green and Hen's shirt is patterned in blue, they also have Hen in green pants for one of the dates and there's the blue lighting, there's the scene with Hen in a blue hoodie and the green background. So more elements of the scene were being employed there.

Another couple is Eddie and Shannon. I will be honest, it took me a WHILE to clock they had an explicit blue and green moment in the form of Chris' birth. BUT, looking at them season 2 and the flashbacks in Eddie begins, they have moments where Eddie is blue or green and Shannon has blue and green detailing, her jewelry, her nails, her car, background of a scene. Also when they are fighting about Eddie reenlisting, they keep switching holding blue and green stuff. Shannon has a blue cup, Eddie is holding a green bottle, the rag on Eddie's hand is blue, the oven mitt next to Shannon is green, so even though Shannon is never a fully blue or green character, she always has blue and green accents.

Randon addon, but Thomas and Mitchell, the gay couple from Buck, Actually that is the couple that shows Buck what love is supposed to look like, they have a lot of blue and green details in their montage, the car, the driveway, the transition from a green cake to a blue cake, I just love that.

Now that we have all of this established, let's talk blue and green applied to buddie.

So, using the established, just the top, point of focus of the outfit, buddie has 3 blue and green outfits, technically 4, but we will talk about the hangar later, because I have a lot to say lol, the loft scene in 613, the station scene in 617, the hangar scene in 704, and the dispatch scene, the street scene, and the wedding in 706 (I will also talk more about 706 later)

One thing about buddie in blue and green is that they tend to have similar shades to past scenes with past love interests.

I don't know why they repeated the shooting combo, I guess it's just because Taylor's greens tended to be less earthy than Eddie's usual shades, but, I was scrolling through bucktaylor blue and green scenes to see if I could find a match for the hangar, and I do think that works, but I was fully ready to go full delusional here and say Buck's hoodie in 706 matches Shannon's nails in 207, because they do, BUT, that one seems to be a double kill and I don't have to sound all that crazy, because it seems like it is a bucktaylor combo from 509 too (the lighting on the loft is obviously different from two scenes in natural sunlight, but they are similar enough)

(Wait last minute addition that you don't know it's a last minute addition and can read more about here, but all thought s6, Buck and Eddie have matching blue and green phone cases, and the 706 scene seems to also somewhat match the shade of the phone cases from last season)

And these are the explicit ones, I would say the 706 scene is even more on the nose since bathena are also in blue and green right next to them.

Now, for other elements of the scene tho, we can go back down to the beginning. As in the you can have my back any day scene.

(Yes, I know the blue is because of the sirens, and it will eventually be red, but since red is such a prominent color for Buck, I can't really mind that all that much because I also have a color-theory theory that deals with the idea that Buck is red in scenes about doing the right thing about love and what more right for Buck than Eddie?)

But since I'm trying to stay within the image limit, let's rapid-fire some scenes here. If we ignore the uniform (I am choosing to because they don't have a lot of room with the uniform, it is what it is, and sometimes a scene will happen in the firehouse) Eddie is wearing blue after the tsunami and the will reveal, Buck's wearing blue after Chim goes after Maddie, Buck's wearing blue in the kitchen talk in 511 (and yes he's wearing blue because Taylor is wearing green, but he's still in blue), the shirt Buck has under the red jacket during the breakdown is blue, Buck is wearing something blue(ish) when they talk about the couches, Eddie is wearing blue on the poker date, Buck is wearing green on the cemetery. In the Carla scene, when Eddie shows up, they're not in the kitchen, and the backgrounds behind them are somewhat neutral. But funnily enough, it's only green behind Eddie there. (if you read my eddie fell first essay, you know I will die saying this is the moment that Eddie is done for so, love when an insane thought solidifies another lol), after the tsunami, we have green scrubs dude behind Eddie when Eddie sees Buck, even though most scrubs in the show are blue and everything behind Eddie is white, we have Buck and the blue of the tent, when they turn around, there's the green thingie behind Eddie and Chris, and the scrubs behind Buck are blue. Grocery store, the toilet papers behind Buck are blue and the outside along with the flowers behind Eddie are very green. Shooting, whatever that green thing behind Eddie is, Mehta's uniform, more blue uniforms, and a green medical person. 511 I just think are funny because Buck is wearing blue in the kitchen but everything about Eddie is white, and that's a fun contrast to the Carla scene and 517 is funny the way one side of Chris' room is mostly green and red and the other is yellow and blue and how Buck is on the green side and Eddie is on the blue (including his shirt). And the poker date, Eddie is in blue and the tables and chairs are green.

Considering using the pants, we also have the post-tsunami talk, the will reveal, and the 504 talk where Eddie has green pants on. Sure, the post tsunami talk, Eddie is both blue and green and there are no blue elements on Buck, but the will reveal, Eddie is both blue and green and the wall behind Buck is blue, and the 504 talk, Eddie has green pants and Buck has a blue hoodie on, considering the way the season 6 had the pants being in used with henren in 606 and with the girls from the oil well (both queer couples, I might add), I kinda wanna say that the 504 talk is traditionally blue and green lol

We also have my Roman Empire, aka the cemetery scene.

Because here's the thing, the sky is only blue behind Eddie and Buck is dressed in green. And also considering the way that they were being pretty consistent with Eddie being green and Buck being blue and the general breakup feelings surrounding the cemetery scene, the fact that bucktaylor switched colors mid-relationship, aka, when Buck tells her he kissed someone else, this is very interesting to me, because the colors in that scene feel like something that was accomplished on post-production, so they are like that on purpose.

This is also something that is used in the gym scene in 705, because Buck is wearing a green coat and Eddie completes the blue and green with the towel and the bottle, and considering green is Buck there is something wrong color and Buck is beating himself up for lying to Eddie, the switch in colors when applied to Buck usually means something.

With all this, let's talk blue and green in 706. Bathena is in 2 different blue and green outfits, the Buckley parents are in blue and green, bucktommy and buddie.

The bucktommy blue and green is very interesting because for one I had to swatch the color of Tommy's shirt and also because when talking about the blue and green in general, the shades tend to match, so to have Buck in a very light mint green and Tommy in a very dark, almost black blue is... a choice, especially considering that bucktommy did match during their date in 705, and Buck is in green, Buck in green is never a good sign (meta on that here), and considering Buck switches colors during crisis, I'm curious as to why they already switched the colors for them, since green is Buck's breakup color.

And the buddie of it all, well, they spent the whole episode matching, literally with the costumes for the bachelor party, but they also stay in their blue and green combo for the duration.

And to have buddie matching even in the bachelor party when the dude Buck is dating is there during the madney wedding episode is definitely a choice, even more, when you consider the way that Eddie is the one who is supposed to be the third wheel, in the costume design of it all Tommy was the one who was the odd one out, and considering the general married behavior buddie was exhibiting during the episode, it's a choice.

And since I'm already here, let's talk hangar scene.

For starters, with this scene, we had a blue and green scene for buddie 3 episodes in a row, which is something on its own, BUT, I will say that I watched the clip of this scene before 704 aired and said "oh, buddie just went canon", because here's the thing, for starters they are in blue and green and Tommy is in shades of beige, so the color on their clothes is the focus, but they are not really the focus, and they do match, but we have to consider the way Buck is wearing a maroon hoodie under his blue and Eddie is wearing a black jacket over his green. That clearly meant some sort of development was coming they're just not fully there yet. For me at least. Because the show has Eddie in the army green armor and Buck in the red jacket of love, and to have Eddie in the army green but with something over it, not using it to protect himself is something, and Buck not being in his brighter reds is also something.

To have this was very interesting for me, Eddie most of all because he's wearing black a lot and I have theories but I can't figure out why. But those are all colors used when Eddie is protecting himself and Buck is trying to understand something, so interesting. And then there's the actual dialogue of the scene "wait, you're not thinking about jumping ship?" "uh, no, I'm just, you know, keeping my options fluid." There is literally no more on the nose way to say don't jump ship than to literally have Eddie say don't jump ship. All that paired with the very obvious blue and green, definitely meant a plan was just set in motion for me.

I will link my Buck and the use of green and red again if you feel like reading more color theory theories. And also a theory about the use of blue and yellow this season.

Anyway, I think this is all, if you read this I love you 💜

tagging the ones of you who asked me about this or interacted with the post I asked about this: @dangerpronebuddie @missmagooglie @steadfastsaturnsrings @millymaki @inell @bella-bothered-and-bewildered @sparkedblaze @frihetstyrke @ilostyou @your-catfish-friend @estheticpotaeto @marmarthehatterverse @planetlet263 @mirrorbuck @lolpuppy

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

The Lookalike (Epilogue, Acknowledgments and Requests)

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awakened in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fell into the clutches of his nemesis, before stumbling into the arms of the Radio Demon himself. A whole lot of fucking later, you became the catalyst for something resembling a reconciliation, and now you're back in the TV Demon's private quarters with both Vox and Alastor, hung over and sore. 

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, they/them pronouns used, explicit sexual content, Vox X reader, Alastor X reader, Vox X Alastor, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios.

☒ Series Links: Now completed! Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

The thing about Hell was that your internal body clock woke you after only a couple hours of sleep, just enough of the alcohol out of your system that your head throbbed and the rich bittersweet taste of last night’s whiskey had been transmuted with the alchemy of the morning after, the interior of your mouth now tasting of rancid orange peel and dirt. You lay splayed across the couch, Alastor’s tailcoat covering your nakedness, its red unmarred by the blood it had soaked up, your head in Alastor’s lap, your hooves in Vox’s lap.

Consciousness brought with it the awareness of the various injuries you had acquired, the fullness of your bladder, and the generalized muscular ache that was probably from all the wall-climbing you’d done. You were also filthy, your whole body faintly sticky like a budding rhododendron. You moved to get up, but found Alastor’s arm around you.

“-very dear to me,” mumbled Alastor, the radio filter almost entirely missing from his hoarse, sleepy voice, and his claws wrapped around your shoulder, hard.

“Darling. I have to piss,” you croaked, stroking Alastor’s fingers, and he gave a noise of irritation, his red eyes opening a fraction, but his grip loosened and you pulled yourself free.

Brushing away Alastor’s shadow’s hand as it snagged at your hoof, you staggered naked across Vox’s small living space, to where you remembered the bathroom to be, and took a piss that felt like it lasted at least a minute and a half, your head throbbing all the while. The things that Vox had brought for you during your short stay were still there; the little blue toothbrush, the showercap with room for your ears, the robe.

You brushed your teeth, drank several cups of water from the tap, and ate a Tylenol before grabbing the bottle of deer shampoo from the cabinet and stepping into the shower.

Vox’s shower was large, enough to comfortably fit three or more people, the flooring some kind of expensive looking stone tiling that was probably fiendishly difficult to get blood out of, and the showerheads set at chest height. You hesitated at the shower controls- which button turned the water on, again?

“You, uh- you want some help with that?” Vox stood at the entryway to the shower, wearing only pants and looking pretty much exactly like you felt.

“Sure,” you sighed, not really surprised when Vox stripped off the rest of the way and stepped into the space with you.

A gesture from him was all it took for the water to start running, no uncomfortably hot or cold initial flow but something close to body temperature. You stepped into the stream, sighing as it hit you, the water swirling a brownish color around your feet as it began to wash away the blood that had caked onto your skin.

“Temperature?” Vox asked, stepping closer.

“Warmer,” you said, an involuntary noise in your throat as Vox made it so. It stung the lacerations on your back, the small wounds on your hips and thighs, the scrapes that Alastor’s teeth had made on your neck.

“You like that?” Vox asked.

“Warmer,” you repeated, and the temperature rose to something crueler, enough that steam rose as it hit your skin, a truly scouring sort of heat. You felt your soreness recede, a little of the tension in your shoulders relaxing. “There,” you said, content to stand under the water for a few moments before uncapping the shampoo you had brought in with you.

“Let me?” Vox asked, and there was a little of the Vox who had sat in the armchair in your bedroom in his voice, pleading. You handed him the bottle, and he unhooked a second showerhead from the wall and turned it on, wetting your hair with a trickle of warm water before he lathered shampoo between his palms. It was strange; anyone else save Alastor and you might’ve had second thoughts, but Vox had had you last night, quivering and vulnerable in his hands, so you had no qualms turning your back to him.

Vox’s hands in your hair were a gift. You stood under the stream of near-scalding water as he drew close, his fingers running from the back of your neck and up, fingers parting your hair, massaging the lather into your skull. You groaned low as he worked the base of each ear, his body pressing closer to your back. He was hard, his cock brushing up against your tail and the small of your back, but there was no threat to it, no intent beyond simple closeness.

“That good, eh?” he asked, as you gave another appreciative grunt, and you braced yourself against the wall to avoid melting completely under the touch.

“You’re making me forget about my headache,” you said, which was rewarded by Vox pressing his fingers more firmly against your skull, more head massage than shampoo application. “Don’t you have things to do?”

“It is five fuckin’ thirty am,” said Vox, his voice thick and hoarse, and he leaned into you, his chest pressing warm against your narrow back, his erection squashing temptingly against the meat of your ass. “I’m all yours, baby deer.”

It would be so easy to let him fuck you like this- even as hungover as he clearly was, he was strong enough to lift you against the wall of the shower and fuck you against it until you were whimpering and quivering, your orgasm smoothing the edges of this rough and difficult morning. It would feel good.

But no. No fucking. Only Vox’s soapy hands in your hair, rubbing your back-tilted ears until you wanted to purr, his thumbs experimental around the base of your antlers. He told you to close your eyes before he raised the spare showerhead to rinse you off, the water dark, even the soap bubbles brownish as the blood was sluiced away. Vox repeated the process twice more before the water ran clear, finger combing your hair to check for errant viscera.

“I don’t need you to wash my back for me, you know,” you said, as Vox put the shampoo aside and reached for the bodywash.

“Course you don’t,” he said, eyes narrowed, and for a second his grin reminded you of Alastor’s. “But you fuckin’ like it, don’t you? You like my hands-” he said, rubbing soap into your flank, then tracing a line down, over your thigh. “My mouth.”

You opened one eye. “I hope you’re not proposing to lick me clean.”

The glazed expression on Vox’s face, along with the way his antennae flopped, told you that yes, yes he would very much like that, his gaze drifting to between your thighs, the faint trickle of Alastor’s cum mixed with his as it leaked out of you and mixed with the water from the shower.

Vox swallowed. “Please,” he groaned. “Fuck, please, baby deer. Just a little. Don’t make me fuckin’ beg.”

“I’m not making you do anything, Vox,” you said, a sidelong look at him. The steam from the shower was fogging his screen, droplets of the splashback running down the front of his wide face like sweat, and his eyes were wide. “You’re begging of your own accord.”

You put your palm on Vox’s grey-skinned shoulder and pushed him down. He sank to his knees, obedient, the water on your back slowing to a trickle, still under his control. His eyes weren’t hearts but they might as well have been with the expression he made as he reached out to touch your thighs, pulling his face close to your legs, his long blue tongue extending.

Vox’s tongue against wet skin was a new sensation; a crackling pressure that conducted over a wider area than his tongue touched as he lapped blissfully at the rivulets of diluted cum that ran out of you. You shivered, and breathed in as you watched him eat, running a hand over the top of his screen, your claws gentle on the fragile antennae that sprouted from it.

Vox whimpered as you held the tip of his antennae between thumb and fingertip, and it occurred to you, belatedly, that maybe these were analogous to antlers for him. You stopped touching them, returning to stroking his frame. His hand found yours, your fingers twining, and you knew that if you asked him he would fuck you with his tongue, lap every last drop of Alastor’s seed from your aching cunt and drink it down like a man starved.

“Please-” he whined, looking up at you between strokes of his tongue.

“You know,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Alastor has very sharp hearing, and he was mostly awake when I got up. He can definitely hear us right now.” You paused to take a breath as you felt Vox freeze, his tongue still on your thigh. “He definitely heard you begging me to let you lick his cum from my legs.”

Vox’s eyes fluttered closed, a low groan in his throat. “Fuck.”

“Tell me,” you said, pushing him a little as his tongue swept up your leg, perilously close to your sex. “Tell me what you’re begging for now.”

Vox’s voice came as a stream of consciousness as you squeezed the top of his screen, hard enough that colors distorted around the pads of your fingers, his breath in gasps as he tasted you between each word, a prayer to you, a prayer to Alastor. “Fuck, yes, please, I fucking want it, oh god, fucking god, let me, let me, please please, let me taste him. I wanna taste him in your pussy, oh god.” He swallowed, whimpering, cock finding friction against your leg, and he trembled. “God-” Vox’s eyes sprang open as he came, his body jerking as he shot his load over your hooves. “Fuck-” he breathed, softly, his screen tilting against your thigh.

You were gentle with him as you pulled him to his feet, letting him lean against you as he came down from his high. You rubbed his back, his shoulders, and the edges of his screen, eliciting soft groans from him, and he nudged his face into your shoulder before you grabbed the soap and started to lather it into his chest.

As if realizing where he was, Vox started the water running at full pressure again. When you had finished him he washed your back for you without complaint, merely a pleading look in his eyes as he scrubbed you down, the runoff going from dark brown to pink as the ablution opened a few of your newer injuries, his hands gentle enough on you to make you sigh and forget your hangover for another few seconds.

When you emerged from the bathroom, toweled dry and dressed in the monogrammed robe Vox had kept for you, you felt almost alive.

“You were in there a while,” Alastor commented from the couch as you emerged, one eye opening, his voice rough and crackling like old vinyl.

“You didn’t want to join us?” you asked, squeezing a little more moisture from your hair.

Alastor shrugged, his lips a tiny smirk. “You seemed to have everything under control,” he said, a statement not lost on Vox, who did not meet his eyes.

Vox’s arm was protective round your waist, or perhaps simply clingy, as the three of you proceeded out of his quarters and into the living area he shared with the other members of his coterie. You sat at the breakfast bar as Vox operated what was perhaps the most complicated coffee machine you had ever seen. Alastor took a seat at the breakfast bar too, his tailcoat on, overdressed compared to you in a robe and Vox in his lounge pants and t-shirt. Alastor’s shadow looked more hung over than he was, sulking in a pool by his feet and clutching its head. Vox seemed to have some level of sympathy for his condition, because he turned to Alastor first.

“So, Al, you want anything? This baby makes a mean fuckin’ macchiato, I’ll tell you that much. We’ve got three types of coffee, too, a Columbian-”

“Coffee,” said Alastor, a grinding edge of almost mechanical stress to his voice. “Make me a coffee.”

Vox sighed. “Americano it is,” he said, setting the machine running with a cheerful beep as he manipulated his way through the menus.

Alastor was sniffing his americano and the expensive looking machine was grinding something in its innards when the door on the lower level opened and a small group of people came in, clearly still mid revelry, brightly colored plastic drink containers in hand. You recognized one of them as the man who had dumped you on Vox’s bedroom floor on your first night in Hell, dressed to the nines in patent leather thigh high boots and a naked effect body-stocking with red sequins that barely covered the essentials. Valentino.

“Ah.” Vox froze with one hand on the coffee machine. “Fuck.”

“Vox?” Valentino’s tone was disbelieving, and he sashayed up the stairs to the breakfast bar to stare at the three of you, lowering his pink glasses dramatically. “What the fuck is this?”

“Val.” Vox hopped the breakfast bar with surprising alacrity, placing himself bodily between you and Valentino, his hands up in a placating gesture. It was unnecessary, all things considered, but sexy. “I can explain.”

Alastor, meanwhile, lowered his ears and hid his face behind his fuck Alastor mug, clearly uncomfortable at being witnessed in Vox’s residence at such an early hour.

“So this is where you’ve been?” Valentino gesticulated. “You don’t take my calls, you say you don’t wanna party with me, all so you can stay home and jerk off onto your pile of Alastor lookalikes?” He turned to Alastor, the real Alastor, his eyes squinting behind his pink glasses. “Where did you even get this one? He looks like shit!”

“Gotta agree with you there,” you deadpanned. “Not a word of English either.”

“Bonjou,” said Alastor, gamely, his voice gruff with the full impact of his night of drinking, his radio filter completely absent.

“You see?” Valentino waved. “You want more Alastors, chulo, you come to me. None of this amateur hour carajo.” He shook his head. “Me and these professionals are going to my room.”

“Val, wait-” Vox called, but Valentino was already on his way out. He stopped, perhaps realizing the futility of it, and rubbed the front of his face with his hand. “Fuck.”

“Is that-” you watched Valentino walk out, shooing the squad of sex workers through the door ahead of him so that he could slam it. “-is that gonna be okay?”

“Fuck knows.” Vox’s shoulders sank, and he walked back to the coffee machine. “It’s hard to tell what he wants sometimes. I mean, first he gives me you, then he’s pissy I’m spending time with you. Does he want me to chase after him? I don’t fucking know anymore.” The machine finished making your drink, and Vox picked it up, vanishing in electricity and arcing to appear behind you. “I know what you want, though,” he purred, his face close enough to your back that the hairs on your neck stood on end, and pushed your coffee in front of you.

You turned your head to grin at him, eyes half-lidded. “A full and unredacted list of the members of my fanclub still extant in Hell?”

“Fuck.” Vox’s expression soured, and he leaned back. “You're all business, aren't you? You know, I preferred it when you were pretending to be stupid.”

“And I preferred it when you had your tongue up my ass,” you said, enjoying the instant of startlement and arousal that flashed across his screen, Alastor smirking into his cup of coffee behind him. “I guess we’re just not our best selves this morning.”

“I liked that too, but I can't just hand you those names, baby deer,” said Vox, leaning on the breakfast bar beside you. “That's not how business works around here. It's about trust.”

“He’s lying,” Alastor interjected, mildly. “He could give you whatever it is you’re talking about, he just doesn’t want to.”

“Oh, butt out, Al,” groused Vox. “I’m not lying. There’s a cost.”

“One which you could well afford to waive,” said Alastor, smiling. “Given our situation.”

“Yeah, and what situation is that?” Vox shot.

He was unprepared as Alastor stood, closing the distance between them and seizing Vox by the front of his shirt, bringing their faces close, not quite touching, but close enough to kiss, or bite. Vox made a noise in his throat, and Alastor grinned, violence in his teeth.

“If you want this to continue,” said Alastor, his voice low menace. “You’re going to have to give our delightful young friend here everything they want. I don’t care what it is, I don’t care what it costs you. Everything.”

“Fuck,” Vox croaked, his eyes wide.

“Well?” said Alastor. “Do we have a deal?”

“This isn’t fair, Al.”

Alastor’s grin was steady. “These things rarely are. Yes or no, old pal?”

“Shit, I’m such a fucking idiot.” Vox closed his eyes. “Yes.”

Alastor set Vox down gently, a sly wink to you as he did so, then stalked his way over to you, taking a small sip from your coffee cup before winding an arm around your waist and burying his face in your hair.

Vox looked at the both of you with something approaching dismay. “He likes you way too much, baby deer,” he said, shaking his head. “Way, way too much.”

Alastor just laughed, his nose pressing against your neck.

The following list is all of the people without whom this work would not exist in its present form; who cheered for me, who reassured me, who pointed out where my phrasing was awkward, and all in all encouraged me to go the whole hog and not just the tip. Thank you for putting up with me and my incessant self-aggrandizing wank and telling me, each in your own way, that the dog exploded.

Bapple Fraugwinska Macabre Barbie Miggy Katethulu Rein Miz blue Molly Anne

The others in the discord server for whom I do not have an ao3 or tumblr account

Special thanks to Shunypie/Shunyhuny who drew fanart (holy shit I am still absolutely fucking floored by this, it's so beautiful)

My final acknowledgment goes to everyone else who read this and thought it was hot, love you guys. Your comments feed me, your likes sustain me.

Though my planned procession of porn is past its climax, I am still open to penning vignettes about the lookalike and set in the lookalike’s timeline. If you have an idea or request, please post a comment here, or if you fancy remaining anonymous, you can use my inbox at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/impale-me-radio-daddy

Regretfully, I do not take commissions (I can’t think of an amount of money that would be worth the expression of confusion and fear from my accountant) so all requests will be undertaken at my own discretion.

Until next time, dear readers.

[verysium]

ACT 1, SCENE 4: blue lock headcanons

shidou would view traditionally ugly creatures as strangely cute. it's not a disgusting cockroach, it's a silly little bug with eyelashes as long as his. no, he's not going to let go of that scraggly one-eyed cat that likely has rabies. it looks too sweet to be abandoned on the streets. his dream childhood pet was definitely a piranha.

aiku wears band t-shirts without knowing the actual music group. no, he does not listen to sex and the pistols, he just thought the design looked very cool. would also wear lana del rey merchandise just to impress the ladies. the only song he realistically knows is west coast, and even then he's only heard it at a random sushi restaurant.

reo would have stereotypical rich people problems. he can't decide if he should bring his chauffeur and valet or actually drive the car himself for your upcoming date. also spends at least one hour seriously pondering over which gucci silk pattern tie looks better on him. trick question, they're both the exact same shade.

shidou steals your covergirl perfect point eyeliner because he thinks it looks way better on him. also a big fan of body glitter and super vulgar eyeshadow palette names. his favorite hue so far is that one hot pink fuchsia that literally burns your eyes with its brightness. nothing is too neon with this man.

ness is the epitome of the sunshine-turned-unhinged-maniacal-killer trope. he would be the bestest boy, but if someone even lays a single hand on you, he’s already plotting their murder. eerily good at hiding bodies but would never divulge his secrets in fear of scaring you off.

shidou would walk unashamedly to the women’s clothing section of the general department store. would never be embarrassed by the bra sizes. you have a double D? he’s already trying three of the cup sizes on just to see if he can get you a comfortable one. if you’re part of the itty bitty titty committee, he wouldn’t judge either. this man loves femininity in all its full glory.

aryu exclusively uses dior beauty. he would rather die than use a generic drugstore makeup brand. sometimes you wonder if he's secretly a dermatologist because this man knows the exact shade, tint, and quality of product for every possible skin tone and type. also very passionate about the controversies behind animal testing and parabens. would be exceedingly picky when it comes to anything he smears on his face (think jeffree star but without the problematic issues.)

sae has his phone screen set to default wallpaper. he only has the translator app downloaded, and that's about it. his personal trainer takes care of all the rest of his stats. after he started dating you though, he kept pictures of you in his private photo albums.

noa cannot tell a white lie to save his life. if he doesn't know something, he will not know something. he doesn't see the point in hiding that. sometimes has trouble reading the room, so you need to remind him that brutal honesty and pure rationality aren't always the way to go. he does become more conscientious after that.

bachira used to draw crayon portraits of all the imaginary monsters he saw at night. scared the shit out of his parents because they thought he was hallucinating (he actually was.) nowadays, he's a lot tamer because you force him to take his meds.

isagi is, in fact, the number one mind reader and manipulator throughout the entire series. this man is clairvoyant, psychic, and telepathic all packaged into one. sometimes his right ear twitches, and he just knows someone is talking about him behind his back. unfortunately, all of this occurs in his head, so no one on the outside world actually knows about his sixth sense.

rin was absolutely bombarded with valentine's chocolates last year, but when he sorted through the entire pile and realized you hadn't given him one, he returned them all to their respective senders. will refuse any form of sweets unless it came directly from you. you need to be there physically to hand him the box.

kaiser writes, thinks, and speaks entirely in german even if no one else can understand him. he secretly can speak english but chooses not to because he absolutely hates anglicization. refuses to compromise his own language and culture just to fit in with the rest of the world. it's degrading. if he had it his way, german would be the new lingua franca. definitely thinks translation is for dummies. what do you mean you're not already bilingual? you better run, not walk, to that little green owl app. does use his foreign accent to make you feel flustered though. has a voice kink but in a non-traditional sort of way. you have to be the one turned on by his voice. only then will he start feeling it.

yukimiya loves it when you lose your shit. one time a jerk cut you off in traffic, and you started aggressively cursing. he fell in love with you right there on the spot. it was something about the fire in your eyes and the way you refused to take any attitude from the other party. that self-assertiveness you exhibit is so empowering.

aiku takes you out to karaoke bars just to hear you sing. you look so pretty under the purple disco lights, belting your little heart out to the rock lyrics. sometimes he has to take a minute to just appreciate how lucky he is to have you.

nagi didn't know that you have to actively check and update your email inbox. he had no clue school even started until one day the principal called his parents over his thirteen student absences. he thinks it's a headache to even get out of bed and put his fingers on his laptop keyboard. since when was the distance between his arrow cursor and the search bar that wide? it looks too long for him to reach. maybe he should just do this tomorrow.

reo does not know what saving money is. the first time you asked him for a promo code, he looked at you as if you had just spouted a strange language. when you showed him your little wallet full of cut-out coupons, he literally had to hold them up to the light and closely inspect them. it was definitely a moment of enlightenment.

sae likes anklets, especially the super thin gold chain ones. something about the way it brushes against his bare leg when you sleep beside him drives him out of his mind. he's also a sucker for subtle jewelry as evidenced by his necklace and wrist bands.

otoya practically lives for instant gratification. he would be guilty of love bombing. loses interest quickly, but sometimes wishes he could actually commit for once. football is important to him because it is one of the only activities he has consistently practiced for over a decade.

karasu is down bad for anyone who can actually outsmart him. you got a higher mark than him on the recent exam? damn, his heart just beat a little faster. spaces out in a love-filled haze whenever you ramble on about your nerdy little subject interests. he is a sapiophile through and through. intelligence just does it for him.

loki is the type of person who absolutely demolishes your self-esteem, and yet you still cannot bring yourself to hate him. when people say god has his favorites, they mean this man right here. he would be an innately talented genius while simultaneously being the most humble human being in existence. at this point, it's not his problem. it's a you problem. try harder next time.

chris is very similar to a neurosurgery resident. he has the largest self-entitled ego in existence. not a single day goes by when he doesn't remind you that he is, in fact, one of the highest ranking football players in the world. you can't say anything about it though because he has rightfully earned his arrogance. i mean, what are you going to use against him? his grueling hours of blood, sweat, and tears? this man works harder than the devil himself. in fact, he is the devil.

rin is the type to get emotionally attached to the most ordinary objects ever. he collects batteries and keeps a separate drawer as a graveyard for them once they die. the triple A ones get a special funeral since they're so hard to find. he just can't bring himself to let go of objects that no longer serve a purpose (just like his relationship with sae, sorry not sorry.)

hiori cannot go to bed unless it is absolutely dark. the curtains have to be closed. the door has to be locked. everything has to be drowned in pitch black. the reason he does this is because he still has flashbacks from that tiny strip of light underneath his bedroom door. his parents would argue all night when they thought he had gone to sleep. it still haunts him to this very day.

nagi wishes he could be a cat. sleeping all day and sunbathing on the rooftop seem like great ways to spend his life. unfortunately for him, he is not a cat. when he dies though, he wants to be reincarnated as one. either that, or a rock.

rin snores like a whole power drill at night. sae secretly hates his brother for that but can’t bring himself to wake him. whenever the itoshi family goes on vacation, ear plugs are not an option but a necessity.

chigiri knows ventriloquism. he used to play with his sister's dolls and make up character voices for each of them. definitely uses it as a party trick or as a way to make you laugh when you've had a bad day.

sae always keeps his feelings to himself. sometimes he finds it easier to rant to you than others, but then he almost always ends up retracting back into himself after realizing just how much he's revealed. he hates being emotionally slutty.

ness is the big scary dog in his relationship with kaiser, not the other way around. everyone thinks kaiser is the intimidating one, but ness wears a leash for a reason. one of them is the chihuahua, and the other one is a rottweiler. you can already guess who is who.

reo was having a mental breakdown in his limousine one time, but he ran out of his usual luxury aloe vera lotion tissues. instead of buying more, he took out his cheque-book and ripped out the pages to dry his tears. money is just paper to him. it can be recycled (no, it can't.)

loki is the type to show you a sweet and heartwarming smile before pulling out the most atrocious uno card combination in existence. i'm talking reverse, wild card, skip, draw 2. you sat there for twenty-five minutes trying desperately to draw a green. by the time you were done, he only had one card left. (screw you, loki.)

niko draws his own manga whenever he doesn't like how the official plot ends. if the canon ever diverges from the way he imagined it in his own head, he will draft his own fan fiction instead. one time, he rewrote an entire shonen jump series just to bring his favorite character back to life (*cough cough* said character wears a blindfold.)

karasu is definitely the "um, actually..." type of student. he will always have a rebuttal on hand. the truth is never black-and-white with this man, and he will argue both sides if it furthers his own agenda. he reads the encyclopedia front and back every night just so he can pull out a random arbitrary fact to win an argument some time in the near future.

shidou had a bad habit of chewing pens as a child until one day it finally exploded in his mouth. from then on, he vowed only to chew glittery gel pens. that way when it exploded in his mouth, his tongue would be stained a bright, shimmery purple. if you ever got him a scented gel pen pack, his life would finally be complete.

rin cannot differentiate between colors. if you asked him to find the difference between bubblegum pink and cotton candy pink, he would not know. to him, seven colors is already a lot to memorize. when he was a child, he only drew pictures with a single color because it was less of a hassle that way.

otoya used to think lime green was the most aesthetically pleasing color in existence. almost considered dying his hair that shade until karasu told him that girls don't actually like guys who look like neon highlighters. still wishes he did it though. he wants to glow in the dark.

© verysium 2023 / please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize any of my works