#and at the end of the convo they were like ''youre so pleasant. youre really smart young lady'' and i was like ''ty

[ruimuse]

PJSEKAI CHARACTERS STARTING TO BECOME MORE AWARE.

( FANTASISTA SQUAD, PART 1: AOYAGI TOYA )

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Aoyagi Toya ,,,

Toya swore he’d feel someone eyes on him. whenever he was at home. At school, or whenever he breathe, it’s like someone eyes were staring daggers into his back — and that gave him shivers.

It wasn’t exactly pleasant to be exact. no, not at all. it felt so creepy to him. Toya just wanted this to end, for all of it to go back like the times were before.

unfortunately, luck wasn’t on Toya’s side. because, whenever he’d normally attend classes and talk to any of his classmates, which he usually didn’t really do — he’d hear a voice coming from afar.

from where he wondered. is it the sky? That’s absurd though? what is happening to him. the more frustrating thing is no one else experienced it. Toya asked Akito, Tsukasa, Rui, Saki, Kohane, An, none of them seemed to have this problem…

“I must be going crazy…” Toya muttered to himself, standing by himself outside Kamiyama.

thats when you — [name] pressed on the area convo. you were wondering. why’s he stressed?

“Toyaaa, why are you stressed???” you tapped on his face aggressively, which caused Toya to tense up.

Did someone really just touch his cheek? was it air? he heard that voice again.

again, being the idiot you are, you press the convo again. only this time — Toya had a different expression from the first time you tapped him.

“Who’s there?” — was what was in the speech bubble. Toya’s eyes had narrowed.

what the fuck. your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “WHAT THE HELL???”

Toya winced, the voice was now raising their voice and it was frustrating to listen to.

“please, don’t yell.”

your jaw nearly dislocated, “can…can you hear me?” your voice drops to a whisper. almost pin drop quiet.

“I assure you that I can hear you quite well.” Toya speaks with a calm tone, in contrast to your loud one.

“what the fu—….how the hell? this isn’t supposed to be happening.” you tap on his face again, and look at what he’s saying.

Toya’s staring exactly at you, as if he figured where the voice is coming from. “I’ll appreciate it if you stop touching my face.”

your heart was nearly gonna jump out of your chest.

“who are you?”

oh.

“A person…a human?” you shrug, How the hell were you gonna explain to your favorite project Sekai character.

“I’d happily listen to a more than elaborate answer than ‘A person.’ if you’d please.” you swear his eyes sharpened.

“uhm…so, here goes nothing…”

…

that’s all for toya !

[libra-stellium]

Venus Transits I tracked!

Descriptions from Planets in Transit - Robert Hand

Venus opposite Moon (Apr 17 - Apr 21)

Any problems under this transit are likely to come from doing something to excess

Did I drink a whole bottle of wine on 4/20? yes. Was I feeling it the next day? yes lol Do I regret it? nope! I was trying to have a great night in and that's exactly what I had!

This transit arouses your affections and makes you willing to give and receive love, relationships with women are meaningful

I made this really good pasta with mussels and I invite my aunt to have dinner with me which is simple but I don't usually do that lol

The rest of this transit description was talking about problems in romantic relationships but I'm single soooo N/A

Venus opposite Mercury (Apr 18 - Apr 22)

Favorable time for communication about love and relationships

If you watch 911 you know how it's been this month lol but I've been enjoying watching people watch the show for the first time! Idk which day exactly but it had me thinking about how I used to write fics when I was younger and make fan videos of shows lol such a fun time! Then I had a convo with my bestie about her love live bc she's a late bloomer and naturally is scared of everything lmao

The mercurial side of your personality does not take emotional matters seriously

I forgot to pay attention to this lmfao but I know I was a joker this entire time! lmao I tried to cut back but everything was just toooo funny!!

Be careful what you say about friends and loved ones under this transit , someone may take it seriously

I made a separate entry about the last time this transit happened for me in 2021 so this time around I was very intentional to not talk about anybody lmao about to make myself a shirt like "My friends and I survived my Venus Opposite Mercury transit <3"

One of the most unemotional of all Venus transits

I don't know lol is laughter not an emotion? I was intrigued by this when I wrote it but maybe I would have experienced this if I didn't know it was happening? Or maybe it was something small like me laughing during the serious situation in a show bc the drama was just toooo much I had to laugh lmao

Venus trine MC (Apr 18 - Apr 22)

Good time for any kind of creative activity/getting involved in the arts

I randomly started cooking this pasta with mussels and I've never made it before and it came out so good!!

Excellent time to redecorate your home and make your personal surroundings more attractive, you are much more sensitive to the aesthetic nature of your surroundings

I did do my dishes and clean my kitchen!

Time when you feel very affectionate and have a great need to express your affection, you are pleasant to be around, others can sense how you feel about them which makes them feel good

I didn't really feel thisss? I'm usually pleasant to be around anyway lol but I did text a couple more friends during this time and we were laughing a lot

Transit makes you feel peaceful and anxious to avoid conflict

Bro this bc after my job messed up my pay last week they asked me to update my timesheet again and I was on that email and had it fixed in 2 minutes lmao just for my supervisor to be like oh she doesn't see it on her end like girl....i texted her pictures of my screen like it's there! Don't stress me out!

Venus square Neptune (Apr 21 - Apr 25)

Transit stimulates your romantic imagination making you somewhat unrealistic

As a libra with a pisces rising this was just another regular day lmao but I was more in my synchronicity bag because on 4/25 I started reading this book that I stopped reading last year on May 19 bc I left it in my friend's car for months and I was reading something else by the time I got it back buttttt the back of the page I stopped on the main character was talking about how the only place she had visited in Europe was Amsterdam and i was like ohmygod??? What are the odds that i was so close to reading that last year and it's now almost a year later and I travel to Amsterdam ON MAY 19???

Daydreaming and creativity are high

Idk if that counts but I stitched a tiktok on 4/23 and it's still getting engagement and it's at 50k+ views rn on 4/28 and like 7k+ likes lolll

Venus square Uranus (Apr 24 - Apr 28)

You seek excitement and stimulation through love relationships

single as a pringle lol

Tendency to flirt under this influence, don't make anything more out of an encounter than what it really is

I didn't go anywhere bc work had me working for real during this time and now it's the weekend and I have my period but one of my friends posted a story about how her outfit made her look like a teacher and I commented "What's 5x5? Twenty Fine!!" lmfaoo the corniest pick up line and I still think I was so funny for saying that lol

You are likely to be impulsive with money

yeah Sweetgreen has had me in a chokehold ngl lol every year I go through a phase where I get obsessed with a salad from there! $18 is absolutely wild but so so good! Just writing this makes me want to order again omg

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Love Sea - Episode 1

Like I said before I'm feeling chatty today so I'm just gonna write while I watch and then decide if I'm gonna post. I'll probably post. If you're reading this I obviously did. Anyway I've had dinner and now I have my coffee. How are we feeling about another Mame show? I haven't read anything about this one. I went into Wedding Plan sceptic, to say the least, and it was a wonderful surprise. Although Love in the air part 2 was not a pleasant experience, I will do my best to have an open mind. OK. Let's do this.

-The sea is always a plus. I miss it so much. -LOL the slow-mo. We get it, we're suppose to be drooling. -This is an important pen. ok maybe not. is it just for the title shot? -This place is gorgeous. Heaven indeed. -No one will get this, but I just rewatched Barakamon and this is exactly what happens when Handa gets to the island as well. Heaven for some. Hell for others. -Are they gonna write 'southern dialect' on top of the subs every time he speaks??? -See I don't know thai, so how different is the southern dialect really? If anyone knows please tell me. I'm really curious now. -I don't think it's because he has a pretty face though. I'm sure he suffered some trauma and that's why he's an asshole. -Oh her. I missed her. Is she gonna be a couple too? Does this have a gl side couple? -oh hello Ja. you're here too? I'm pretty sure I watched the trailer for this but apparently I don't remember anything. -This hostility feels so forced. Like they are creating the enemies in 'the enemies to lovers' as we speak. -I'd like a Martini. But I don't have vermouth. Life is so unfair. -I like that he keeps speaking in dialect. It's so petty I love it. - That backfired now but I'm sure this is all atitude and Mut will actually be thinking about this moment later. -Declarations like this in a bl are guaranteed to mean exactly the opposite. -It's because of people like this guy that hotels have so much food waste. That's probably the most depressing think about working in a hotel. Also costumers like him. -'Money can't buy me.' That's just something people say. How much? 5000 bhts? let me just quickly google how much that is. 125,65 euros as of right now. Just to not speak the dialect? I think you can get more. 7000... 10 000… 15000… so that's around 376 euros. Not bad for basically doing nothing. -This whole convo is reminding of Auto in DR. 'Yeah, throw money at me. Screw dignity' -I'm really enjoying Fort. The sarcasm is delicious. -I really miss the beach. -This proposal sounds..indecent. -The last man on earth thing again. You're just asking for it now. -Yiwa is back. I know that's not her name here but it's too soon. Rehearsing in front of the mirror. I should do this. I'm sure it would save me some headaches. -Second person in a ql that can't change a lightbulb. Oh wait she's lying. Is this like Dee? She pretends she can't change the lightbulb just so the girl does it for her? Very mysterious. What is she planning... - I also don't get it. What does having sex have to do with anything? -That was fast. Already thinking of him? I guess if rude is your thing who am I to judge? or have they met before? have they met as kids??? The plot thickens. just in my head tho. -Never trust auto-save. Just when you need it, it will let you down. -That was so dramatic. Like I get that this is probably a trauma response but that was a lot. He's been an asshole this whole time, how am I suppose to empathise? Mut is a better person than me. -I choose clams. I love clams. But on land. I'm getting seasick just from watching. The End oh wait. there's more. wait what did he say? There were no subs for that bit. Oh well he's already smitten.

That's a nice background for the credits. I wonder if it will change with the episodes. Like Gaya Sa Pelikula. Probably, right?

Well that was...okay. Too early to say much but I'm enjoying Mut. And Yiwa is back on my screen! And I'm really happy to have a show set on the beach. I shall continue watching this for now.

I won't do this every time though. Today is an aberration. It was a weird day but I have too much energy.

I should check on the elections, I'm sure that will bring my mood right back down. Oh but tomorrow is a holiday so I can do nothing all day. I'm happy again. Ok. bye.

[toomuchracket]

mads does birthday party girlie speak french ? i've seen in a lot of them that she'll say like a sentence ! do u speak french ?

i think birthday party girly speaks a little bit of french, but not fluently! the little french hangovers in the middle of conversations (there's an "et toi" randomly in part 2 of tbp, for example) are a result of a fairly intense dark academia/classic lit phase you had as a teenager where you tried to incorporate french and latin phrases into conversations to seem wordly and wise lol. in hindsight, it was deeply, deeply pretentious of you, but some of the french responses stuck; matty found this story ridiculously funny and endearing when you first told him it not long after you two became friends, and you inevitably had the bret easton ellis/donna tartt besties convo right after it. matty also found it extremely endearing that you decided to relearn french before you went on the first paris trip with all your friends. he did take the piss out of you a little bit along with the rest of them - "darlin' we're going for a week there's no way you need to relearn the whole language" - but they were all forced to eat their words when a) they had to rely on you to do a solid 85% of the talking while you were away and b) you managed to get special treatment/people to be nicer to you all just because of your linguistic semi-proficiency and pleasant attitude. the day you and matty ended up hanging out together when everyone else went cycling, you remember turning back to him after ordering more wine and cracking jokes with the waitress en français to find him smiling at you in a way you hadn't seen before but immediately knew you wanted to see again (awed. moonstruck. lovingly); you were like "what?", and matty just shook his head slightly and went "you're incredible. that was so sophisticated. kinda hot, actually". and you both just giggled (to be fair, you were tipsy), but your relationship felt slightly different after that - closer, deeper, with a potential to be something more. and i'm also thinking that you speaking french ended up having some pavlovian effect on matty, where every time you'd pepper in a phrase he'd go all heart eyes - well, more so than normal - thinking about the two of you and your little wine drinking friend-date and how he so badly wanted to take you on a romantic one. and also thinking about how hot and smart you are lol. but yeah, you're not fluent-fluent, but you know enough french to both get by in france and make matty go all flustered, which is really all you need to know lmao!! also you're the inspo for the bfiafl album title. it's literally you lol <3

(and according to the scottish qualifications authority, i can speak french lol - i haven't spoken it for about six years, though, so i'm not as good as i was, but i can still read it quite well!)

[minnarr]

replying here bc convos in replies are hard

in retrospect–ans while watching it because i had spoilers but it's worse now–the power of three really just feels like a cheap trick to up your emotions before the big plot twist. and it would have worked on me if the end hadn't been just. stupid.

god. i don't even know if my emotions were up going into the end of s7 pt 1—i saw s6-9 live and if i had a nickel for "times the companion(s) decided to leave and changed their mind and afterward you went Why You Were So Much Better Off" i would have at least two nickels. it became such a miserable prospect to be a companion; not that those seeds weren't there before but there was a higher proportion, i think, of fun and also it was joining in a cause bigger than you and the doctor. or maybe that's rose-colored glasses! i never know. but yeah them changing their minds at the end of power of three after the most pleasant time i think either of them had had in at least a season....ugh

you know what i give up. the power of three got an essay out of me but the angels take manhattan is so fucking disrespectful to the characters and the plot and the story and there's not even any attempt at substance and even the actors–even karen gillian, who's brilliant and intense in every scene, even matt smith, who we know can sell the anger and the devastation–don't care. they're over it.

this is so fucking. disrespectful. for no reason. you had a brilliant story foundation and incredible actors and characters and not only do you use it to be horrible and sexist and bigoted but you set the story on fire and use it to burn up the hopes and dreams of anyone who loved this show.

i thought 'the baby is your wife' was a stupid fucking plotline but 'and she wrote a detective novel about breasting boobily through your friends being estranged from you forever, which you need to follow until you don't and then they die anyway because plot twist' is. god.

it's not even a tragedy because no one cares enough to try and sell it. it's not a tragedy because it's so fucking contrived. it's just stupid.

[mentionally]

Jimmy and Gary have a crush on you + their confession

Seperate - SFW - Fluff - Drabble - Choose Your Ending

Jimmy:

Does not plan to confess, just confesses on impulse

He already has some girls after him so he’d distance himself from them to make him seem more appealing

Looks at you until you notice him, then quickly looks away

Does he want you to know he likes you? Yes.

Does he want you to know he likes you? Also no.

Would let his feelings marinate for a while just to be sure

CONFESSION:

The night before he makes sure he’s smelling decent, looking okay and whatnot

Cannot sleep

He hasn’t told anyone

Really afraid you’ll reject him too

C.an barely sleep and if he does he dreams about confessing to you

*so like 7 hour timeskip*

He’s getting ready, making sure he looks his best and whatnot

Def avoids you the first time he sees you bc he freaked out

Also he has a poker face this whole time, like no blush, no embarassed look, nothing

Procrastinating the whole day until it’s the end of the day

Just says fuck it and talks to you in private

“Hey, I like- like you. A lot. So do you want to go somewhere some time???”

If you accept

Honestly surprised

Y’all plan to go to some shitty fast food place after talking

Pretty happy tbh, but still a poker face

If you reject

Oh?

Not surprised but also dissapointed

He tries not to think about it too much but he still has a bug crush for a while

Gary:

He messes with you way more than he used to

Yknow how adults used to say that he’s bullying you because he likes you? Yeah that’s him

If you were already friends he’s more annoying, always trying to hang out or do something together

But if he just like has a brief convo with you and sees you in the halls and stuff he’ll try and talk to you

Like actually respond to him he’s being a pleasant as he can and its really tough on him

CONFESSION

Also cannot sleep but honestly in this situation who could

The day of he tracks you down in the halls and tries to keep up some small talk (it fails)

Just says he likes you in the end lmaoo

“Yknow, you’re really different. I think I’ve taken a liking to you.”

Jk he doesn’t directly say it

But he still talks in his weird dialect

Srsly why does he talk like that 💀💀

if you accept

Happiest he’s been in a while really

Y’all don’t go on a date until like a few months later probs

If you decline

Bro is madddd

Just storms off but now teases you in a mean way instead of a playful one

Looses feelings so fast man it’s not funny

[kuroosweakness]

post-argument cuddles | kuroo, suna, atsumu

kuroo tetsuro 

╰ after arguments, he’s always the one who brings up cuddling as a way to “cool our heads and get oxytocin.” it’s always a pleasant surprise to him when you agree :) 

╰ it takes a while for the awkwardness to fade away, but thankfully, his attempts at small talk and corny jokes always get you two back on track

“...are you still mad at me?” you quietly asks, taking a close look at his facial expression. his gaze shifts from the ceiling to your face. immediately, his face softens. 

“i already told you,” kuroo sighs, fingers lightly pushing back your hair. the rise and fall of his chest is a feeling you didn’t know you craved until know. “i’m wasn’t mad, just annoyed.” 

“oh” 

“...are you mad?” 

“no” 

“...it seems like it” 

“i’m not mad” 

“your words aren’t the most convincing, babe” 

your heart tugs at the term of endearment at the end of his sentence. “i know you added babe to make me not mad” you frown at him. 

“i thought you said you were already not mad” a small smirk stretches across his face as he continues to comb through your hair. “and so what if i did?” 

unsure of what to say, you give him quick glare before settling your face back on his chest. your last argument was 20 minutes ago, yet he’s lowkey getting on your nerves again :’) “...maybe i should be mad at you” 

“don’t say that,” he quietly mutters under his breath. making note of the cold room, he tugs the blanket higher up on your body. “neither of us would like that.” 

“...would you still love me if i was a worm?” 

“you’re asking me that now???”

suna rintaro

╰ a part of him really wants to be petty, but being petty is too much work so he usually cuddles like nothing happened 

╰ very quiet. he’s a man of few words in the first place, and after arguments, he’d hate to say the wrong thing. it takes a while for the awkwardness to fade

╰ his to-go cuddling position would probably be spooning so you won’t be able to his somewhat flushed facial expression. besides, it feels nice to hold you in his arms

╰ may be a little more affectionate than usual~

“maybe we can order food,” he mumbles against your shoulder blades. before you can tell him that his breath tickles, he adds, “i’ll pay as a way to apologize”

how can you say no to food? :)  

the rest of the evening if just you two munching on food. him offering you bites of his food for you “to try” even though both of you know very well that you already know the taste. lots of convos about how the food tastes, how your day went, and funny stories he has. it doesn’t take much for the argument to be forgotten! 

miya atsumu 

╰ big, clingy baby afterwards 

╰ acts like the last time you two cuddled was 6 months ago :’) 

╰ he’s just glad there’s no more tension between the two of you! he finds a sense of security and invincibility when he has you on his side <3 

“i hated 10 minutes ago,” atsumu says, breaking the comfortable silence. his body feels way too hot to be pressed against, but you’re too comfy to move :’D 

instead of replying, you glance curiously at him. who likes getting into serious arguments?? of course you didn’t enjoy 10 minutes earlier either. “i like now,” you tell him. 

he eyes widen, face flushes, mouth forms a small ‘o.’ as your words sink in, he quickly melts into a small grin. “i do too” he faintly says as he pulls you even closer to him. “are we on kissing terms yet? or are you still annoyed at me?” 

[gentil-minou]

So far my greatest fear is that I hope that Kuro Neko wasn't the end of the ladynoir conflict because well...for one thing it just doesn't fit with the entire season hdgdgd and for another thing I just can't see that being the case lol

However risk the strike back trailer did give me a lot of hope, ESPECIALLY since the holder like any other part was something Adrien did not seem to like and he! Expressed! That! too! (I am phrasing it VERY clumsily sorry!)

And with the whole team being broken (poor kids someone save them:(( ) and THAT scene in the trailer, I do think that there will be an us against the world moment (like there always has been in every finale😌) but I do think it will be Chat hyping up LB as usual this time. But it also seems different because this time doesn't just seem like he is hyping HER up, but also HE HIMSELF looks confident, ready to take on anything (cliffhanger??👀)

Also sorry I am just incoherent to some extent at this point but I wonder if there is something about most of their heart to heart convos in finales happening in the sewers UNDERGROUND while here it is seems to be from a high building (not really sure about that but I am clowning) out in the open without an umbrella in the rain djgsusgsusgshaaaa

Coming back to Kuro neko I do think that Ladybug thinking Chat's problem is about her loving him romantically was very much intentional to play into the miscommunication and not necessarily the narrative telling us so.

Anyway, thank you if you patiently read through all of my jumping from one topic to another djhxhxh

P.S. I know a lot of...not so pleasant discourse has been going on lately and just wanted to tell you that you and your metas are amazing whether people agree with them or not<3

Thanks for sharing your thoughts! I do think there's more to the story we're missing. A lot of people hold the ambassadors more accountable to things than what they actually are knowledgeable of (not to mention language barriers sdfjdks) but I do think there's more, and I agree I have to think that the ladynoir scene in the beginning of Risk is setting up something.

I'm hesitant about interpreting much from the trailer, which is why I'm impressed with how much you were able to theorize! I was stuck on the reason why Marinette was crying at the end, and I've started to wonder is if when she was using the bunny she discovered or learned something she wasn't supposed to...but that leads to soooo much speculation and I literally have so many theories at this point I cannot even be coherent with them beyond "AHHHHHHDFJDSKFDS"

And yeah, like always communication and secrets are the enemies all along, and they still continue to be I think

[rescuefield-a]

TRUE ENDING, DARK ENDING, NEW BEGINNINGS - A STUDY IN CLAIRE AND LEON.

( because if there's one thing capflop can't do is treat women right. disclaimer: this might not be pleasant, please keep in my mind it's in relation to my portrayal and not THE truth )

let's skip all the obvious parts, we already know those. let's dive into claire's mind since by the time death island happens she considers leon her comrade in arms, even though perhaps with the way things go in canon she should be the one throwing the chair. only half joking here.

i'm gonna start by saying that i find ridiculous that claire would fuck off a few days after the outbreak - sure she's impulsive but not at these levels to go in with no plan and no actual idea of where to fly in the first place. so here's the thing, she's stayed with sherry and leon for a while before leaving, planned her search carefully with them watching her too. bonding more with sherry was a given, but she obviously shared enough pieces of information with leon as well since she knows his email.

i don't think claire ever fell head over heels for him as some in this fandom love to imply - she has eyes, and leon is easy on them. that's really all there is to see ( tho i do think her feelings might have changed slightly during their motel hopping situation, but that's more of me world building around the little that we know ) at the same time however, leaving and returning has been a disastrous experience for claire. she was definitely the first to reach out to him post rockfort - mostly to find out what happened to sherry.

on that note, i think that was what held them together at first. it is known that they had visit rights, probably showed up together sometimes, might have decided to join forces against simmons ( although it was useless ) when claire was trying to get sherry's custody. they both love sherry, they both went through hell, they both want to end it - their whole friendship is based on a promise they made to each other when they were a little more thank kids themselves. and that's probably why claire has ended up having a closer bond with leon post raccoon city; they share similarities in that way, and that's what gets them through things since apparently they keep in touch off screen ( would be fun to read more of their email exchanges )

it's obvious claire holds leon on a pedestal in a way - whereas chris was her go to person, leon sort of takes that place post rockfort. he gets contacted in harvardville, she asks his opinion about the drawing made by that kid in penamstan. she cares about him and his opinion, which is somewhat reciprocated through the little hints in canon, but at the same time we see a shift that changes things. if during the airport outbreak leon was speaking highly of claire and how she fought her way out of raccoon city, a couple years later in DC he tells her to "not do anything stupid" more than once, to which claire eventually even tells him "when are you going to stop treating me like a kid?" because claire knows very well she's capable and experienced, so her inner question when it comes to leon is why cant you see me as your equal?

i know some might have expected me to turn this into a ship moment, but it really all boils down to this. claire gets the damsel treatment over and over, to the point that even something that supposedly was fanservice becomes a moment where we can see her annoyance. she seems almost mad when leon asks her if she's fine after being picked up from the acid pool - and while she is okay, there's no doubt that leon and jason's antics have created problems during her convo with wilson, claire still gets up and goes to the control room to once again to the behind the scene work that will grant leon another tyrant kill and a pat on his shoulder by the government.

to put it simply, claire never gets praised, never gets credit, and yet she's the one doing half the work, she's the one staying behind during the aftermath, she's the one who made it possible for the government and bsaa to meet in the first place. claire might as well get into politics some day and i wouldn't be surprised, she's a leader who always gets pushed aside because she's unfortunately surrounded by a lot of toxic masculinity and very fragile egos.

so to circle back, i find it interesting that claire says "i do things my way and you do things yours" because it implies that until then they were always meeting in the middle, but it was really following leon's lead because he's supposed to know better than her. it could be implied that claire has compromised for the past decade, having a different approach to fighting the good fight than him ( leading me to think she had been influenced by neil's charm for a whole lot longer than revelations 2, he just wasn't the leader of terrasave yet so his role wasn't important for the plot but possibly formative to how claire operates ) so this is her stepping away from leon's shadow - it's her way to say ok, i've been following your lead until now, but just because you're the fighter and i'm the rescuer it doesn't mean we're not on the same level.

i also find very interesting that claire and leon seem to not have a "shared campaign" and that she has been given a weapon of her own in death island. it might not mean much in terms of plot meaning, but to me it means a lot because it's already a HUGE step forward ( until now movie wise she would always have a weapon that was either leon's or would be discarded after shooting one zombie which is ridiculous when there's a hoard of them ) toward claire having an identity of her own that is not tied to her brother, best friend, boyfriend of the day found dead at the end. this might be her biggest occasion to shine and perhaps to prove once again that she's on the same level as everybody else - her job doesn't define, her experience does... and of that let me tell you at this point she's got plenty.

to recap: claire did carry the torch for leon throughout the years and as long as the universe keeps destroying every attempt of her moving on, in a way she will always have a soft spot for him. but also if it's true that the distance makes the heart grow fonder, then the farther they stay when it comes to missios the more they'll remain in best terms ( he's still her best friend regardless, is a deal package along with sherry, she will totally host interventions but will never let people use her name to express their disappointment )

[whoacanada]

‘Wishful Thinking‘

Summary: Every NHL champion gets a single brush with ice magic. When Jack takes his first cup with the Falconers, he accidentally undoes the wish that brought him back from the brink of death in 2009, and Bitty becomes hell-bent on lifting the cup himself for a chance to set things right.

A/N: Finally posting some concepts I’ve played around with that aren’t 100% complete massive fics, but still pretty solid, just little things that might be enjoyed. Yet another cup-wish-gone-wrong-au with monkey-paw components. Also inspired by discord convos about canon!Jack meeting an older, veteran NHL!Bitty and having a lot of feelings. Also mentor/father-in-law!Bob trying to help Bitty navigate the NHL. There’s more to this floating around but this is the meat of it

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Bob can sense when it happens. A shift of something monumental that he’s only felt on a handful of occasions his entire life. A quick glance across the ice finds a number of the celebrating Falconers looking around curiously, unsure of the sensation; for so many, it’s their first brush with ice magic. A pleasant novelty. The vets, though, they look to each other.

Bob turns and doesn’t have to look far to find his son, one hand clasped around the cup, the other around Eric Bittle’s waist, smiling from ear to ear. Something about the moment is wrong, but Bob can’t quite determine why as he’s overcome with a wave of nausea. The stadium lights are too bright and he blinks hard, face scrunching, trying to force whatever wrongness he’s feeling out of himself.

Someone’s made a wish.

The moment passes. Bob’s vision clears. There, veiled in a shower of blue and gold confetti, is Eric; alone at center ice, face twisted in confusion as he looks around for the man who only moments earlier had been in his arms.

“You take the cup, you get one real wish,” the decades old, bourbon-lacquered voice of his first coach reminds him. “But only the one. Can be something small, like an empty cab in the rain, or it can be something big. World changing, even. The one thing, the most important thing — ”

“No,” Bob breathes. “Please, no.”

“— You never use your wish on another player.”

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They don’t know exactly what Jack wished for, but the next time Bitty’s blades touch the ice, it’s as if he’s stepped into the body of a new man. No more slurs. No more targeted chirps. He’s just one of the boys.

He plays. He wins. Then, the offers start to come.

NHL teams looking for fast wingers, team players, leadership material; not one of them mentions diversity, or Eric’s status as the first out NCAA hockey captain. No one cares. No one remembers Jack, and no one cares about Eric.

The best and worst case scenarios rolled into one. If this is the reality Jack unknowingly traded his existence for, Bitty has no choice but to walk through the door his partner opened.

Bitty swallows, trying to force the words out on one of his now nightly calls with the man who would have been his father-in-law in another world, if the shared connection between them hadn’t been interred in a Montréal cemetery almost a decade prior.

“I think . . . I think he wished for acceptance.”

___________

___________

___________

“No one remembers anymore.”

Eric scuffs his skate against this ice, building up a small pile of shavings before scattering them again, focusing on the soft white as if somehow he’ll be able to transport himself bodily to somewhere cool and quiet. Jackson Hole. Banff. Tremblant. Anywhere but here. Anywhen but now.

“Saw Tater last week at a press junket. Blank stares all around. Some days, most days, I wake up and I don’t know how I got here. I can go without thinking of him.”

Weeks. Eric doesn’t say aloud. Months. Those hideous mornings when he wakes up beside a warm body and forgets they aren’t him. They aren’t supposed to be him. Was there ever even a him.

Jack. Eric mouths silently, just to remind himself. His name is Jack.

The details always slip. The universe constantly trying to correct the fallacy of Eric Bittle remembering a man who died before they technically ever met. Faded photographs and corrupted memory cards. Selfies that used to have two people in frame. Vlog posts with cosmic ADR, swapping Jack’s name for someone else’s like a hastily rewritten script. Eventually, even Eric’s memories turn traitor. First times lost to reshoots and post-production magic. Blue eyes are brown. Black hair is blonde. Jack becomes Phillip. Eric’s first love recast. In desperation, he pulls a page from Memento, finds a tattoo parlor and has ‘Jack Laurent Zimmermann’ inked in dark, unmistakable letters on his inner thigh. Adds a cup, the Falconers’ crest, and the date they lost everything. It works well enough until the name fades; there are still days where a hook up will ask why Eric has a championship tattoo for a team he never played with.

Now, all he has is Bob.

“That’s why I’m here.” Bob reminds. “That’s why we talk.”

“But what happens if we don’t.”

Bob’s familiar assurances rumble through the phone. Constant. Refusing to acknowledge the harsh realities of the passing of time. The ever-present doomsday clock moving them both toward disaster — Bob aging, Eric aging out. He’s good, but he isn’t great, and the only offers coming his way are single-season contracts with teams that haven’t sniffed a championship in years. One day very soon, there will be no more chances for Eric to undo what’s been done. No more favors to ask of teammates that have long since forgotten a world where Jack Zimmermann was a college graduate and a rookie MVP. Not just an addict. Not just dead at nineteen.

Eric listens to Bob ramble, asks him to tell him a story, to tell him about the Jack that Eric never really got to know. The Jack he can barely remember. A man that Eric has dedicated his entire life to honoring, to bringing back — from where he cannot fathom — and Bob obliges in a soft tone Eric imagines is not dissimilar from how he must have spoken to his son as a child.

Eric ignores his teammates rushing around him — tossing chirps and gentle insults about his ‘Sugar Daddy’ — and focuses on the accented voice in his ear; grasping desperately at the memory of a man who doesn’t exist. Pretending. Hoping.

__________

__________

Across the ice, Eric sees Kent Parson watching him. When they lock eyes, the aging star glides toward him, under a guise of one amicable captain greeting another. He’s pushing 37, and while the years of competitive play are starting to show, he’s just as viciously handsome as the day they first met. At least, Eric thinks he is. He can’t imagine a life where Kent Parson strolled onto a college campus and played beer pong at a frat party, but there’s a folder of old photos on Eric’s computer. Jack is in none of them, but there’s one of himself and Kent. Smiling.

Eric can’t recall why the image bothers him so much.

Parson used his wish years ago on something that he’s never bothered to share — and Eric’s far too much a gentleman to ask a man who was once a rival what he wasted his golden ticket on — but now, he’s slowing down, and this is supposed to be his farewell season. Going out with a bang, riding the high of his fifth cup win. He’s worked hard, and he deserves to shove the Penguins back down into obscurity for another season. Deserves it far more than Eric, with his selfish, single-mindedness that’s ruined god knows how many careers in the last decade between his own ruthlessness and Bob’s meddling.

Except. . . this is also likely Eric’s last season. His last chance to undo the great tragedy of his life, and Parson knows it.

“How you feeling, Peaches? You ready?”

Eric hates the nickname in the same way he hates when his father calls him ‘Champ’.

Eric fights his own shame because he wants to be honest, say, ‘No, I’m not ready, I’ll never be ready,’ but Eric can’t ask for what he wants, anymore. He wants the Aces to balk on a power play. He wants Parson to flub a pass and throw the game —  he even knows the man would probably do it, too — but Eric needs to come by a win honestly. They learned the hard way in 2022 when Eric hands were wrapped around the cup, wishing, praying, crying, pleading . . .

Clear eyes, full hearts, or some such bullshit.

Cheaters don’t get wishes.

“I can’t remember, anymore,” Eric admits as they square up across the face-off circle, the resigned terror of an inescapable end creeping upon him like the burn of an old injury ignored for far too long. “Kent. Please.” Parson leans down, rests his stick against the ice, and holds Eric’s gaze as if to say, I’m here. Trust me. Just play.

The puck drops.

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There’s someone watching him, young, handsome with dark hair and the kind of bright blue eyes that scream ‘notice me’ with all of the biological bluntness of neon plumage and a mating dance. The man weaves through the crowd, unnoticed by Eric’s teammates, and comes close enough that Eric can’t help but assume familiarity. He must be a fan, the way he’s flushed and excitable.

Eric’s drunk enough on the moment that he’s happy to indulge his baser instincts. He also literally can’t remember the last time he brought company home and if there’s ever been a night to get laid, it’s this one.

“Crisse, look at you, Bits.”

The man is caught between being awestruck and simply struck, reaching out to touch Eric’s arm but not quite making contact, like his depth perception is the tiniest bit off. He drops Eric’s old nickname so easily, so earnestly, that for a moment Eric thinks they might already know each other — but that’s impossible. Eric would remember someone so handsome, so very much his type.

“Only my friends call me ‘Bitty’.” Eric cautions, raising his half-empty champagne bottle in a mock toast and flashing his best ‘you’re coming home with me tonight’ smile. “But I’m more than happy to to get acquainted with you, Sugar.”

Eric isn’t usually this forward, this unrestrained. Tonight, it doesn’t matter, he’s celebrating: another championship, the end of a career, a life well lived. It’s to be expected. What isn’t expected is how the man’s relieved smile falters; as if Eric’s unbridled joy is somehow misplaced.

“Bitty? It’s me.”

“And ‘me’ is called . . . ?”

On very few occasions in Eric’s life has he been able to witness true devastation first-hand; and those instances were related to deaths, hockey losses, or blackout morning afters.

“Jack.” The man says softly, face slack with surprise. “It’s. . . Jack. Bitty, you know me.”

“If we’ve met before, I’m sorry,” Eric apologizes, hating to see the kid look so defeated. “I meet so many people — ”

Over Jack’s shoulder, Eric catches sight of Bob Zimmermann and waves, delighting in the way Bob’s face lights up when he catches sight of Eric, practically going supernova when he notices Jack as well, crossing the ice like a man possessed; Bob moves to pull them both into a hug but Eric’s new friend holds up a defensive hand and Bob stops mid-gesture.

It’s extremely apparent something is off, and between the reporters, the confetti, the champagne, and the fans, Eric is missing all of the context clues.

“Just won my last cup,” Eric singsongs, gesturing with the bottle between his mentor and the man Eric would very much like to fuck — who look very similar now that Eric can see them side by side. “Everyone’s super excited, right? Yeah? So, what’s going on. Did someone die?”

“No.” Bob says quickly, eyes flicking between Jack and Eric warily. “No. Not . . . that.”

“Severely injured?”

“. . . Non.”

“Okay, then, we should be celebrating!” Eric throws his arms wide and nearly clocks a passing teammate. “No more party pooping, Bobbert. Speaking, this is my new friend, Jack. Jack, Bob, Bob, Jack. Though, I’m getting the feeling you two might know each other. Or might be . . . related.” Eric gasps and smacks his free palm against his forehead. “Oh my god, the Tremblant retreat? Is that where I know you from? Listen, I was fucked up on pain meds that whole weekend, I am so sorry if we’ve already met.”

Despite Eric’s continued attempts at clarifying their shared mystery past, Jack keeps looking at Bob with that same wounded expression and it’s really killing Eric’s buzz.

“Bob.” Eric redirects. “Help me, here. Cutie’s nervous.”

“Eric, this is my, ah, well,” Bob’s smile is so forced, so tense, it looks more like a grimace. “Well, this is my son, Jack.”

There is only one ‘Jack’ Eric has ever known in relation to Bob Zimmermann, and he is not someone to be mentioned in polite conversation.

“Your son?” Eric echoes slowly. “Your son, Jack.”

Bob realizes what Eric’s tiptoeing around and casts a furtive glance toward the younger man, lifting two fingers to his cheek conspiratorially to imply ‘it’s a long story, not meant for public ears’. Eric knows how to play along.

“Wow, okay, did not expect that, but now that you’re saying it, I can one-hundred-percent tell. You have the same, well, everything.”

Eric takes Jack’s hand for an obligatory shake, not missing the way Jack’s features twist up into something caught between flattery and misery, before staring down his pseudo-mentor.

“My question is this, where have you’ve been hiding him — because how long have I know you, Bobby? Shame.”

“I’ve been . . . away.”

Jack’s tone is weighted with context Eric absolutely does not possess, but can definitely read into. Given the age difference and Alicia’s conspicuous lack of attendance this evening, Jack’s definitely a love child from some 90s Zimmergroupie. Or, original Jack didn’t actually OD and Bob spirited away his kid to keep away the prying eyes of the public; but that wouldn’t explain the age difference or the shared name.

Oh, Bobbert.

“Couldn’t wheel him out too soon,” Bob jokes, but Eric can tell the man’s heart isn’t in it, reinforcing Eric’s suspicion.

“Well, I’m happy you did,” Eric says graciously, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “He’s very handsome, when he isn’t doing this Eeyore impression.”

“Just like his father,” Bob says reflexively —  defensively —  as Jack goes pink. “Eric, will you excuse us for a moment? Back in five minutes, tops.”

Eric offers a gracious wave, gaze lingering on Jack’s retreating back — and backside, bless — watching Bob rest a firm hand on his son’s neck, gripping tightly to lean in and furiously whisper something. As Eric watches, Jack looks back over his shoulder; it’s not the fond glance of a potential paramour. Regret, maybe? Grief, definitely.

He must be as disappointed to be cock-blocked by his father as Eric is.

Across the ice, Kent Parson has rushed Jack, gathering him into a crushing embrace that the younger man returns easily —  burying his face against Parson’s pads; pulling back only when Parson grabs Jack’s shoulders to push him away, taking a long look at him, holding his face between his hands briefly before pulling Jack back into his arms.

They don’t just look like old friends, it’s a reunion of desperation, like the videos his mother sends of soldiers coming home from war, but before Eric can think better of it, a teammate fists a hand in the collar of Eric’s sweater and pulls — away from Bob’s forlorn love child and forgotten first meetings — and the night goes on.  

Bob doesn’t return. Neither does Jack.

Eric doesn’t even notice.

__________

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[windandwater]

new york is at it again!

delivery guy yesterday who I have NO memory of: “I haven’t seen you in a while!” me: “well I just got home so you got lucky!” idk it was just really sweet

bodega guy: how are you doing? me: okay...almost done mailing everything bg: oh for christmas? I haven’t done anything, you wanna know why? me: ...why... bg: because I’m Muslim! me: HA! I was gonna ask if you celebrate! bg: NOPE

bit later in the conversation: “this lady was saying she doesn’t know how she’s going to explain that she can’t afford to buy anything this year, I told her, just become Muslim!”

he’s right

have never had such a pleasant time running errands as this week, guy in the grocery store whole ass read my mind as to what I was looking for (clementines), convo in the new pharmacy ended with the guy ordering the meds I need next month in advance and them giving me their freaking “we’re a new business here’s a planner” gift.

another bodega guy conversation, once again griping about how expensive everything is, I was buying eggs? I didn’t say anything about the price but he mentioned they’re expensive and I had just come from the grocery store where the cheapest ones were eight dollars (!!!!). he was like yeah we used to pay 20 dollars for a case and now they’re 116 dollars a case. a hundred and sixteen dollars. for medium eggs, not even large eggs. they’re not that expensive in Jersey but they come across the bridge and the price shoots up. we just stood there shaking our heads at each other like what the fuck can you do.

a friend of mine started work at a new and extremely nice restaurant and her gift to me this year was a meal there and they kept just. bringing me out comped food and drinks. I am extremely full. but also part of the way through these two children ran right past the host (it was her first day) and straight to where we were sitting talking and tried to ask us for donations for something. ???? my friend was like excuse me where are your parents while they babbled about not wanting to get in trouble and were ushered out and I died laughing.

also they brought out my smoked fish in a wooden chest. why isn’t all food brought to the table in a wooden chest. every restaurant ever: take. notes.

got to the train and there’s just. a guy on the tracks. am I getting home tonight??? who knows!! Eric Adams likes to think an occupying army of cops will fix all this city’s problems, but they were apparently staring into the void doing nothing while an MTA employee tried to get LITERALLY ANYONE’S attention to get the dude some help! hahahaha! I hate it here!

they got the guy off the tracks and everything’s fine

on the way home my next door neighbor texted (the one who I met because they kept getting my mail, not the one who I met because she needed to break into her apartment--look this city is wild) asking if I had a covid test because they might be exposed so before I could sit down and deal with the massive amount of food I just ate I had to go ahead and run that over.

I fucking love it here.

[nctsworld]

let me know

✩ mark x reader (ft. johnny) | pining | fluff | 1.5k 

→ summary: on the living room couch, mark thinks you’re asleep with your head on his lap and has a conversation with johnny. as you secretly listen, mark reveals he has been meaning to tell you something for a while now.  → warnings: dash of angst, reader jumps to conclusions → prompt: Person B falls asleep in Person A's lap and Person A has a conversation with someone else while stroking Person B's hair as if they were a sleeping cat.

→ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

It’s a chill day. Just you, Mark, and Johnny hanging around the apartment, playing games, watching Netflix on the couch, and the like. During a rewatch marathon of one of your favourite tv shows, you start to feel your eyes and head get heavy. 

“Mark?” 

“Yeah?” 

Right now, it’s only you and him on the couch with both of you on either end. He glances over and notices how you’re beginning to doze off.

“Can I rest on you?” you ask, despite how you are already making your way over to his side. Your best friend nods and holds an arm out, open and ready for you to fill in the space near him. His arm wraps around your body as you lay your head on his shoulder. Mark’s natural, sweet aroma fills your nose and reacts with your other senses, making you melt into his body more. However, the position isn’t the best for how sleepy you are.

You break away for a second, and, to Mark’s surprise, you relax your head upon his lap. 

“Are you comfortable like this?” Your question is soft, barely a whisper. He hasn’t answered yet, but you’re already closing your eyes and begin to draw invisible shapes on his thigh. 

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, watching the events unfolding with wide eyes. “Is this comfortable for you?”

Although you don’t manage to answer him, he knows the answer after a few moments as he feels your body become languid under his touch. A smile emerges across his face and he carefully places his hand on your head, rubbing his thumb gently and sending heartwarming vibes in hopes that you would sleep with pleasant dreams.    

And your sleep really is peaceful and sweet, perhaps due to Mark’s small touches and caresses throughout it all. The sleeping beauty awakens some time later, but you don’t move in Mark’s lap, continuing to rest with your eyes closed.   

From what you hear, the show isn’t playing anymore and is replaced by what you assume is one of Mark’s playlists playing faintly in the background. Your eyelids flicker, not wanting to open them fully, and see Mark scrolling on his phone. 

Suddenly, Johnny’s footsteps are present, causing you to immediately shut your eyes and continue your act. There’s a clinking of a glass on the table nearby. Mark says a quick thank you, followed by a small thud in the armchair adjacent to the couch. 

Johnny speaks up in a lower tone than usual, likely for your benefit, “You know, you could’ve gotten up and get the drink yourself.”

“You know I don’t want to disturb her.” 

You imagine Johnny rolling his eyes. Sips could be heard in the room above you and from the armchair, before the older of the two men chimes in again.     

“So,” his voice is gentle, more careful this time. “When are you going to tell her?” 

It takes so much from you to not react to the conversation. Nevertheless, you contain yourself, but with perked ears. What were they referring to? What could Mark possibly have to tell you? Both of you were thick as thieves and secrets weren’t an issue in your friendship. 

No words are exchanged for some time. Other than the music, the only thing you’re aware of is Mark petting your head and casually running a few fingers through your hair. 

“Soon,” you feel his body rock a little, and assume he’s nodding in response. “I’ve been figuring out the right time to say something.” 

“Dude, you just gotta go for it.” 

“I know. I just—what if it…” 

Another pause lingers in the air. Mark inhales sharply; his breathing becomes a little shaky. Beyond the mystery of what Mark wants to tell you, you also wonder why Mark’s hesitating so much. He’s not normally this unsure of himself, or anything really. 

“What if it ruins things for us?” he asks softly, with tinges of anxiety hanging from his words.

Mark can’t detect it, but your chest tightens in both sympathy over his concern for your relationship and fear of what Mark has to declare to you. The possibilities of what he has to confess run through your mind in a flash. You’re almost certain about what Mark is referring to, and it kills you to think he hasn’t told you since both of you are so close. 

Johnny counters Mark nonchalantly, “You won’t know until you do it. I’m surprised she hasn’t caught on yet.” 

“Is it that obvious?” 

Risking a chance, you peek at the lanky man in the armchair, who is raising an eyebrow in doubt. Mark sighs and his body rocks slightly once again.  

Your eyes are closed again and you exhale a small huff, processing what just occurred. You don’t know how to feel with this new information. Every touch from Mark ignites you in joy and bliss, like all the times he’s done so previously. 

Regardless, if your assumption is real and true, why is he so casual and open with you physically? All the touches, the hugs, the forehead touches... 

Your thoughts are spiraling the more you think, so you try your best to ignore them and indulge in the moment longer by attempting to sleep more. 

Undoubtedly, the sleep doesn’t last as long as before. Feeling distant and unsure of everything, you pull away from Mark hastily when you wake before he can say anything to you and you abruptly announce that you should get going.  

“You don’t want to stay for dinner?” Mark’s behind you when he inquires, yet you can see the confusion on his face from the inflection of his voice. You shake your head fervently and mumble barren excuses. 

He’s standing, silently watching you put your shoes on, until he decides to add, “Wait, actually, before you go, I need to tell you something—”

You cut him off with a wave of your hand, still not wanting to face him. “I know, I know. I heard you and Johnny talking.” Mark tenses and watches you continue to put on your other shoe in shock. 

“You have a girlfriend,” you state on his behalf prior to standing up to finally match his gaze. 

“I get it and I’m fine with it.” The lies roll off your tongue and don’t sit well with you, but you truly don’t want to ruin what you and Mark have. “It won’t ruin—” 

“Whoa, hold up,” now Mark’s the one who interjects, holding his hands out to stop you. His eyebrows furrow at your statement. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

You do the same, except with an addition of a tilt of your head. “Are you sure?” 

Mark chuckles, causing your guard to let down a little. “I think I’d know if I have a girlfriend or not.” 

Trying to study him, you’re looking for any signs of lying or joking on his face. Mark often joshes around with you, but he can only hold his wall of lies for so long. 

However, like he always did when you pressured him for dishonesty and Mark was expressing the truth, he pushed back with a flash of his genuine, saccharine smile. 

You cross your arms, then lean against the hallway wall. “Then, what is it?” 

In an instant, Mark’s composure is severed into broken pieces. He laughs awkwardly, prior to rubbing a hand against the back of his head and he ruffles his hair in the process. 

“Uh…” his filler drones on endlessly and you keep your gaze steady on him, waiting for him to say what he’s been meaning to inform you. 

“I, uh, like you. I guess.” 

That is not what you’re expecting. 

But it’s definitely better than hearing Mark has a girlfriend. 

“You guess?” you echo him with a small smile on your face.  

He clears his throat, deepens his voice, and holds his tone steady as he says it once more and deliberately makes an effort to stare back at you. 

“I like you.”  

The hallway lighting isn’t the best, yet how did his eyes seem to sparkle under it? 

You groan and place your face into the palm of your hands.  

“Are… Are you okay?” Mark comes a little closer to you and reaches out to comfort you. 

“I legit thought you were talking about having a girlfriend during that entire convo,” your voice is muffled as you embarrassingly say within your palms. You drag your hands down your face. 

Mark’s shaking his head and takes hold of the tips of your fingers in his after you drop your hands. 

“Why would I want anyone other than you?” 

You dart your face up to glance up at him. 

“Really?”

He nods earnestly.

“Really.” 

Both of you at this moment are staring, smiling, and giggling all at once. You bite your lip when you begin to take off your shoes.   

“I guess I could stay for dinner.” 

“You guess?” Mark mocks your tone from moments ago. Playfully, you punch him in the arm with tingling cheeks. 

And with that response, Mark didn’t need to ask if you felt the same way about him. 

[gnocchighoul]

peach bubbles & cherry wine

Summary:

“Just once more, my love.” Lucifer says. You can feel the words as they move through his chest and past his lips—like the soft rumbles of a cat purring.

“Now be a good girl and spread your legs.” 

A/N: inspired by a convo about Lucifer’s bathroom with @thedemonstherapist​​ , and a drunk anon :D (definitely go check out her blog, she wrote something for this concept as well and it’s *chefs kiss*)

AO3 Portal

“Don’t move.”

“If I don’t I’ll drown!” 

“Just—fuck, here.” Lucifer hooks his hands under your arms and lifts you up, just slightly out of the water. He straightens out his legs, still holding you up with the ease of a bodybuilder lifting an orange, and yeah, you’re a little bit jealous at how strong he is.

Warm water closes around your hips as he gently lowers you back into his lap, and you can’t help but think about all of the things you could accomplish if you had that supernatural strength. For instance: you could probably lift a car, all by yourself. Or a really heavy bookcase. A sturdy one, made from really expensive wood. Pink ivorywood. Dalbergia. Or—

Oh, what is wrong with you? Who even cares about all of the theoretical things you could do with unimaginable strength when you are literally butt ass naked in a tub with Lucifer! And you accomplished this all on your own, with only the vastly underrated power of puppy eyes. 

Also, wine. So much wine. 

You swirl what’s left in your glass—the red liquid twisting in a dark vortex. It swallows up the dim light of the bathroom—looks more black than red. You know that color intimately. It’s nearly the same shade as Lucifer’s eyes—gleaming bright in the dark room as he dripped cherry wine into the hollow of your belly button—lapped at the red juice with his fleshy tongue and got you all sticky.

Which is how you ended up here, lounging together in warm, bubbly water. Not that you’re complaining.

Honestly, if you had known how nice Lucifer's personal bathroom is, you would have set out on your quest to date bone him so much sooner. 

It’s a lot like his room—far too much black. All doom and gloom and gold metal. Black floors. Black walls, carved of marble with gold veining, and a few floor to ceiling mirrors. The ceiling is a dizzying mural, saturated with (you guessed it) more black, but white and gray too. Sometimes, if you stare long enough—you think you can see shapes dancing in the fog of it. 

(Though that may just be a hallucination conjured up by your alcohol addled brain.)

The best thing about Lucifer’s bathroom though, by a landslide, is the massive tub situated right in the center of the room. Carved entirely of smoky quartz and the size of a small pool, you could quite literally spend hours lazing around in bubble bath bliss. Which you do, quite often. It’s borderline an obsession at this point.

(The first time you commandeered the bathtub, you had read an entire book in one sitting—as you were finishing up the last chapter, Lucifer had burst into the room all feathery and freaked out and totally convinced that you had managed to somehow drown yourself. A fair assumption—in his defense, you had been awfully quiet.)

With a tub like this, you would never use the shower again. And yet, for some horrible and awful reason, Lucifer insists that the shower is better. (Which is actually quite nice as well, but that’s neither here nor there.) When you had interrogated him about it, he just casually confessed that he hardly ever used the beautiful tub. Said something about 'showers are just more practical’. Pah. What does he know? Nothing, apparently.

But now? Well, it isn’t a challenge to coax him in with you.

Lucifer tips his head back against the cool ledge of the tub, eyes sliding shut. “Who’s idea was this anyways?” 

You down the rest of your wine, scrunching your face like an accordion when the bitter flavor bursts on your tongue. “Yours.” 

“That can’t be right.”

“Well it’s not left."

Lucifer groans loudly, acting like your totally great joke caused him real physical pain, and you tch at him.

You lean into him—rest the back of your head on his shoulder and set your empty wineglass aside on the broad, flat rim of the tub. His right arm snakes around your waist, tugging you up tight against his chest, fingertips tracing shapes into the side of your ribs and sending shivers racing across your skin.

You eye the mountain of white bubbles in front of you—lift a poofy handful out of the water. The smell of peaches brightens the room—all sun kissed and sweet.

You wonder if Lucifer is drunk enough to let you give him a bubble beard. 

"Hey, babe—"

"Don't even think about it." 

"Wh—you don’t even know what I was going to say!" 

Lucifer nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Keep the bubbles away from my face."

"...You’re such a killjoy sometimes." 

“Am I?” He threads his fingers through your hair—pulls slowly to tilt your head to the side and ghosts his lips over your neck, pausing to nip at your pulse point. Slides one hand over your breast, rolling your hard nipple between his soft fingers.

You feel it again, then—the pleasant ache still between your thighs, softened by the water's warmth settling into your body.

Lucifer bites down on your neck with sharp incisors, pulling a soft mewl from you.

You squirm. “Again?” 

You’re not actually surprised. Saturdays are devoted just to the two of you—marathon fucking and unwinding from the weekly chaos. It’s a necessary tradition, especially after a week like this previous one. You had barely seen your beloved, thanks to his boyfriend keeping him busy .  

(Lu has made it very clear that Diavolo isn’t his side piece, but like. Would it really be that bad if he was? You could invite him over for your Saturday Fuckfest, which is a very appealing thought. Who wouldn’t want a piece of that princely cake?)

“Just once more, my love.” Lucifer says. You can feel the words as they move through his chest and past his lips—like the soft rumbles of a cat purring. “Now be a good girl and spread your legs.”

Fuck. He sure as hell doesn’t need to tell you twice.

His fingertips skate down your stomach, deftly moving lower to brush teasingly over your clit and your head lolls back with a strangled little mewl. You turn to the side—he captures your lips with his own, swallows down your little cries. Tastes like cherry wine and dark chocolate. 

It’s too much, and not nearly enough. The damp slick of his chest against your bare back, his hand cupping your breast. He toys with you slowly, teasingly, pressing only the lightest of touches to your clit, and you want—need—more. You rock your hips back, right up against his aching cock and he hisses—pinches your nipple and slips his fingers inside of you in tandem, stretching you wide and exploring as you desperately grind against his hand.

He spent all day teasing you—pushing you to the brink and then taking his sweet time unraveling you. Playing you like a finely tuned instrument until tears pricked at your eyes and you dissolved into a begging, whimpering puddle. That fire still burns in your belly—kindled back to life, red hot and unforgiving as he presses his fingers deeper inside of you.

When it comes to fucking, Lucifer is far more patient than you are—something he’s proven a thousand times over. He enjoys it—breaking you. Ruining you. Pushing you to the brink and leaving you there, time and time again. 

But right now—you want more than just his skillful fingers.

You squirm out of Lucifer’s grip, confusing him for all of two seconds, until you turn around and straddle his strong thighs. Bubbles stick to your arms and tummy like little clouds. 

“I want you inside me.” you pout.

“Was I just not?” he says, cheekily, and you glare.

He suddenly bucks his hips up once into your own, threatening your already questionable balance—nearly sends you careening face first into his shoulder. Sudsy water sloshes over the dark rim of the tub as you steady yourself by placing both hands on his chest. You glare at his smug fucking face. 

His eyes, vibrant and jarring, meet yours—sparkling with delight. Crimson shot through with so much black that you’re not sure where the pupil ends anymore. 

You grab his chin with your slick hand—dig your fingers into his jaw and pull him into a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue and heat. Relish the taste of his mouth and the slide of his lips, wordlessly begging for what you want.

He grins against your mouth. “Such a needy little thing.” 

You don’t entertain him with a reply—just grind your hips down on his cock, catching your throbbing clit, leaving you keening.

He sucks the plush of your bottom lip into his mouth and bites as you sink down on the heavy weight of cock, inch by agonizing inch until he’s buried to the hilt. He murmurs praise against your lips as he fills your pussy to the brim—sends white hot sparks shooting up your spine. You burn. 

Experimentally, you roll your hips. Lucifer meets you halfway—always does. Grinds his hips languidly into yours, easing the painful stretch of his cock between your walls into a pleasant fullness. There’s no urgency—he’s already ravaged your sweet, tight cunt. 

Lucifer feasts on your mewls—swallows them whole as he thrusts his hips up, sloshing more water over the tub rim. His hands dig into your hip as he grinds up into you with sharp, short jabs—buries his face into the crook of your neck and bites down hard. Draws blood to the surface and lingers there. Leaves behind berry-red marks. 

Your nipples rub against his chest and you grip his shoulders—dig your nails into the taut, firm lines of muscle. Your thighs tremble as you bounce on his cock, rocking down faster—needy. 

Heat spirals and coils in your belly, winding tighter and tighter until your blood is singing with it, leaving you breathless and dizzy and alight. He snakes a hand down between your legs—fingers finding your clit and your hips spasm, squeezing him so tight that it pulls a hiss from him.

Your climax hits you hard—steals your breath away and makes your vision all fuzzy and dark. Your walls clench and Lucifer pulls your hips down, again and again and again, spurred on by your gasping and whimpering. Dragging your tight, warm pussy on his pulsating cock as he floods your womb with his seed.

As his cock softens inside of you, he releases that bruising grip on your hips—tugs you into a close embrace with absolutely no possibility of escape, squishing your slippery breasts against his chest. Heart drumming a furious beat beneath your skin, you wrap your arms around his neck and melt into his arms. 

For a few beats, it’s silent. You can tell that he wants to say something—he’s practically buzzing with words unspoken.

You lean back to see his face properly and tap the pad of your pointer finger against his chest. “Out with it, handsome.” 

“You know that I love you.” A statement, followed up by a softer, “Right?”

A smile tugs at your lips. As if that’s even a question.  

“Well I'd certainly hope so, because you're stuck with me. Forever.”

He rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth slide upwards into that dazzling grin you love so damn much. Then he shifts his hips, reminding you that he's still very much inside of you, and nudges his cock over that little patch inside of you that makes you see sparks but is also far too sensitive right now. Your breath leaves you in one great big whoosh and you bite down hard on your swollen lip.

"You're so mean." 

Lucifer hums in agreement, looking far too thrilled by your reaction. Presses a kiss to your jaw and murmurs, "Say it back."  

"What?" 

He leans back. Searches out your gaze and meets it with his own. "Say that you love me." 

Oh.

You would think he'd be reassured by the fact that his dick is literally still inside you, but… you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to use your words, too. 

You hold his hand—link your pinky finger with his own and say, "I love you."

It’s a promise. 

You relax back into his arms, content to just sit quietly amidst the peach-scented bubbles and confessions.

…For about ten seconds.

“So… About that bubble beard…”

Lucifer scoffs. Presses a kiss to your temple and smiles there. 

He really does love you.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 136

This chapter was a chance to explore some more science-based tropes that I absolutely love in stories.  The truth is, when I’m working at my day job, I love listening to documentaries on Curiosity and YouTube channels like Answers with Joe or Kurzgesagt. My love of science fiction actually comes from my love of space and astronomy, not the other way around.

In no way, shape, or form, does this chapter cover any of the concepts in question in full. It’s just a quick convo between Sophia and a good friend ;)

My thanks, as always, go to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname. Plus all of YOU!

Even as my mind wandered, I couldn’t help but grin a bit as I took my weekly stroll through the corridors of the Ark with Miys in tow.  For several years now, we had a standing appointment on my calendar that both Alistair and Tyche treated as sacrosanct - just some time for me to spend with our host, my friend, and learn more about each other.  When I had originally arrived on the Ark, any time I was seen walking with them, other humans would give me odd looks, but never approach.  Now, people would recognize me, smile, and wave, but still never interrupted the strolls.

It was nice. Like my weekly family dinners, it was a routine, pleasant part of my life. Especially days like today, when we were entering the dawn-cycle and each day became a little brighter. It made me wonder about other civilizations, ones that would have evolved in conditions like the ones we were adapting ourselves for. How did it affect them? How would it affect us as generations passed? Future generations were certainly going to be shorter, due to the high gravity. Would it change our technological advances as well - 

“Wisdom, why are you thinking so hard about Gestrcht Clusters?” Miys interrupted my thoughts.

“Hm?” I asked absently. “What’s a Jestrick Cluster?”

“Gestrcht,” they corrected mildly. “Gestrcht clusters are a type of civilization that has adapted to live in artificial platforms surrounding their sun, in order to better harness the solar energy, radiation, or heat needed.”

“You mean a Dyson swarm?” I tried to clarify, confused.

“All of the galaxy calls them Gestrcht clusters, therefore I think that is what you mean.”

“Alright, alright,” I laughed, holding my hands up in defeat. “The reason I was thinking about Gestruck clusters - “

“Gestrcht”

“I will work on it. The reason I was thinking about those is… I was wondering how living on Von will change our priorities. In our history, those constructions were something that fascinated both imagination and science - something several people thought was our launching pad to a Kardashev Type II civilization, or the singularity point. Maybe both.”

“Kardashev…” they hummed for a moment, thinking. “Only humanity would create goals of technological advancement that required destruction on a multi-planetary scale.”

I desperately wanted to object, but strongly suspected they were right. “So we were wrong, again? There are no civilizations out there that would fit what we imagined for a Kardashev I or II race?”

“I will concede to the existence of species that you would consider both. However, it is not how you believe it to be - humanity would never have been able to accomplish it without greater sacrifice than they have ever known.”

Oh boy. “Tell me? I want to understand why other species could do it, but we could not.” My curiosity needed to know.

They held up one of their liw, rocking it back and forth in imitation of a human head tilt. “Species that have managed to harness all of the energy produced by their planet, and not destroy their environments, have historically been those who had very little power to harness to begin with. These civilizations come from either very harsh, or very gentle worlds - never anything in between. Abundant wind energy scouring a planetary desert can greatly benefit a species who can harness that wind to temper it and create a paradise. A planet with no atmosphere, but incredible amounts of geothermal energy runs little risk in being able to direct all of that volcanic activity to its benefit. But Earth?”

“Is a deathworld,” I pointed out. “You said so yourself.”

“This is true, but it is not a deathworld in the way So’Kn is, for example. Preeyar and So’kn are planets that are lethal for very singular reasons: So’Kn is a frozen waste of permanent night and eternal wind. It is so harsh that only So’Knor can truly survive there with without significant technological assistance. Preeyar only has atmosphere in its valleys, and that is thinner than most species can survive, much less the fact that there are no liquids on Preeyar. None. The air pressure is too low to allow it for any chemicals that are naturally occurring, and the atmosphere violently reacts with any elements that could exist in liquid form. It is, in fact, believed that the rift valleys were caused by simply an icy meteor impacting the planet.”

“Ho-lee shit,” I whispered.

“I doubt many cultures would find it holy at all,” they joked drily. “Whereas Earth… There is no one singular quality about Earth that classifies it as a deathworld. Instead, there are several, each stemming from the abundant forms of energy offered by your home world.”

“Seriously!?”

“Indeed. And the combinations thereof. The length of natural disasters that are possible, alone, is unique to Earth. Tornadoes and earthquakes. Flooding and wildfires. Volcanoes and hurricanes. Methane just rising from your lakes to kill large swathes of people. Lakes below your oceans, Wisdom! Volcanoes below your oceans! It is insanity to the entirety of the Galaxy, and yet humans consider that just a normal aspect of existence.”

“And… what exactly does that have to do with being able to harness all the energy of our planet, exactly?” To say I was confused was an understatement.

To their credit, Miys only reached with one vomu to make a ‘nose pinching’ gesture against its head. “Earth, somehow, is only habitable and so abundant in life because everything exists in a precarious balance. Surely, the last two centuries of your own history demonstrated that. Attempting to harness all of the admittedly prodigious energy of your planet would have ended up destroying that balance beyond compare.”

I tried to comprehend it. I really did. Focusing on what little I knew, I thought about dams. Those were familiar to me - I had grown up in an area that dammed every river and creek possible for everything from grain mills and fruit presses, to artificial fish ponds, to electricity. “Starting there…” it was faster not to explain out loud when I knew Miys was following along with the home game, “Damming a river creates a lake. That floods an area that already has a habitat, and dries out another area that already has an aquatic habitat.”

“And prevents floods that fertilize fields and redistribute minerals from erosion, yes.”

“Right. Times every river, creek, and faint trickle on Earth…” I stopped myself. Every river. The Amazon. The Nile. “And we just washed out what’s left of the largest rainforest on Earth.”

“Leaving more carbon in the air…” they encouraged.

“And increasing the greenhouse effect, increasing heat on the surface, melting more ice, which - hey, more wind, amirite? - but changing planetary albedo, more water, wetter Sahara, no dust to fertilize… South America? Dammit, are we back to killing the Amazon again?”

“That is just one form of energy, Wisdom. But I feel you are understanding the issue.”

“Yeahhhh…” I trailed off. “Okay, so. Kardashev I is no bueno tacos for Earth. What if we skipped straight to Kardashev II slash singularity?” I made a point to focus on the concept of technological singularity very hard, so there would be less need for research on their part. You know, spare myself half a minute or so. “The Gestrkt clusters.”

“Closer,” they admitted, although I was suspicious they meant my pronunciation and not the idea that humanity would ever get there. “Humanity is not… suited, for Gestrcht clusters.”

“Wait, what?”

“Humanity is too curious, too social, and too exploratory. Your fiction abounds with every variation of different worlds and strange universes you could possibly conceive of. And it constantly expanded - your oldest texts involve travelling to your moon, and when you actually reached it, you looked further out - other systems, other galaxies, other dimensions. Gestrcht clusters require such substantial resources and maintenance, there is little left over for exploration.”

“There are humans who would be perfectly content living in such a structure,” I argued, although my heart wasn’t in it. I wouldn’t have been, knowing that other worlds were out there.

“Not enough to sustain it, unfortunately. Not even in what you call the Before.” Lightly resting one vomu on my shoulder, they squeezed gently. “Wisdom, humanity has always wanted to see other worlds. Gestrcht clusters are all or nothing.”

“And singularity?” I asked, barely managing a hoarse whisper.

“It is true that there have been some singleton species that have achieved what you term singularity with technology. Fewer have been successful.” When I glanced at them, all six upper appendages were held up in defense. “Hive minds are uniquely suited to it, and even some of us,” they waved those same six appendages at their torso, “would never accept it. I could never imagine not having the chance to travel the galaxy, to be with other races as they experience it. Add to that, humanity is somehow both individual and social. Removing that line, that choice? I doubt your kind would thrive. Postulate this: Derek, in a hive mind.”

“Absolutely not,” came my unhesitating response, disgust and violence trembling in every limb before I calmed myself. “And I see your point. Integrating technology in our lives, into how we function…” I tapped my head for emphasis, “that’s one thing. It makes our lives better, by making sure that Derek, and others, can have their personal space protected.” The more I thought about it… I never considered the idea in reference to ‘now’, only ‘eventually’. What if we did it now, and I was one of the people - suddenly never alone, always connected to every thought of strangers via technology. What if Tyche was? Or Maverick? Hell, Charly? “I think I need a shower, now,” I admitted, skin crawling.

“Humanity could achieve both,” Miys confirmed, although it didn’t feel as reassuring as I had hoped it would at the beginning of our conversation. “But I don’t think humanity would truly want to live in Gestrcht clusters or singularity, given any other choice but extinction.”

Laughing, I wiped a tear from one eye.  It was a bitter truth, but still true. “I think you’re right.”

“I may be wrong,” they countered. “As I said, there are singleton species who have made those transitions and the entire galaxy is better for it.”

“Some hope that we weren’t entirely wrong would be nice right about now,” I mumbled as I scuffed my shoe at the floor. There wasn’t anything to kick except Else-puffs, and that was just mean as fuck.

“Most species that made a transition to Gestrcht clusters early in their development are belligerent, insular species. The fact that they must focus all their efforts and resources on maintaining their platforms prevents them from becoming actively warlike. As far as ‘singularity’... singleton species who thrive in that transition are often species who cannot thrive on a galactic scale otherwise.”

Huh? I craned my neck to try to look up at them in the perpetual-dawn light. “What do you mean?”

Miys flicked a datapad open - one I know they only wore for our sakes, seeing as they could not actually see anything on the purely-optical screen, I had learned. They could only navigate it if interacting with a human, so they could ‘see’ what they needed to tap out.

Needless to say, Charly and Grey had been working for years on one that responded to sonic commands.

Eventually, a seven-fingered flick caused my own databand to chirp. I flicked it open to see the file. “They… Noah, this looks like sentient pollen… or feathers…” Realistically, any description I tried to create fell devastatingly short. The being on my datapad moved as though it was floating on wind, with tens of thousands of filament-fine tendrils swaying and navigating. The sound it created reminded me of the sound of snowfall, if snowflakes could sing opera. “They’re beautiful,” I sniffed, driving back tears at knowing something so breathtaking existed.

“They also cannot survive off their planet, unfortunately. Even the transition out of their atmosphere is lethal to them.”

My heart shattered into a million pieces. “What is their name?”

“No one knows for certain. But they have achieved a sort of singularity - once they have matured and reproduced, they upload themselves at the end of their very brief lifecycles. In the Galactic Community, they are known as Odvub.”

“Odvub…” I whispered, holding out my fingers like I could actually touch the screen.

“Outside of a Hujylsogox rescue ship, it is nearly impossible to avoid encountering Odvub. Most believe they are some sort of galactic artificial intelligence, and they prefer to allow that belief.”

“Why are you telling me this, then?”

“They have permitted it, when these sort of questions are asked. To show what desperation is required for a singleton species to thrive in singularity.”

I sniffed, desperately trying not to cry at their situation. “Do they know about humans?”

“They may be the only species who could not avoid knowing about it. But Odvub believes your people are hearty, and adaptable, and should never suffer their fate. They advised, in the event that your people ever ask about singularity, to do this…” Miys gently cupped my cheek in one liw and patted it, “and tell you that you will never need to resort to what they had to do, and that they look forward to meeting your people one day.”

“Obviously not face to face,” I admitted quietly. “I have allergens that are more substantial than they are.”

“It is considered a great honor in the Galactic Community for this icon to display when  you interact with Odvub.” Miys gestured at the vicinity of the image on my datapad. “Only those who know why, know why it is an honor.”

“We’ll take it,” I laughed, tears streaming down my cheeks. “All of humanity may never know why, but we’ll take it. If I may tell Arthur, we probably will know why.” He would see to it. Loudly, angrily, derisive of anyone who mocked it. “Regardless, we’ll take it, all the same.”

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[undyingskies]

Clingy

request: yes,

“Hi honey!! I am in love with your writing 🥰 if you don’t mind can you please do one with Charlie where you overhear him saying how you’re too clingy and he needs space (your love language is physical touch) so you give him space and not so touchy and he starts to get upset because you aren’t always over him and it turns out you overheard part of the convo or it wasn’t you he was talking about? If that makes sense haha”

a/n:  I hope you guys enjoy this one!

Quick note, my requests are closed right now so please do not send me any for the time being! I am behind on requests and am feeling overwhelmed by them so I would like to shave the list down just a little! My inbox is still open so I can talk to everyone! I promise I will let everyone know when it is open again, I am. hoping to have my requests open by the end of the week! Thank you for understanding.

warnings: none

tagged: @mah-gah-lee

_______________________

The party was in full swing, Savannah and Tori decided that since you guys had the next week off they would throw a party for everyone.

That is how you ended up, stumbling around their apartment, red solo cup in hand, trying to find your boyfriend.

You guys had lost each other just a few minutes into the party, as Savannah pulled you into the kitchen to start pouring drinks down your throat and Charlie went to find the guys.

Charlie had been having a rough few days, not really in the best mood, so a night hanging out and drinking with his best friends sounded amazing to him.

It had been a rough few days on you too, when Charlie was in a bad mood it really affected everything and everyone around him. You tried to give him some space after trying to help lift his spirits didn’t work.

You round the corner of the hallway, making your way toward the small balcony that was accompanied by Charlie, Owen, and Jeremy.

You were about to push the door open and let your presence be known until Charlie’s words stopped you dead in your tracks.

“I don’t know man that sounds a little harsh.” Owen says. Then the words that Charlie says are the ones that make your freeze.

“Dude this is the first time in days I’ve been left on my own! It’s just she’s always there, and always needs something for me.” Charlie pauses, “she’s just clingy and I needed a break to breath so I’m grateful for this party is all.”

That is all it takes for you to push yourself from off the door and run down the hall and out the party. Savannah witnesses your body whizzing by and follows you out her front door calling your name.

“Y/N! Slow down Y/N, what is wrong?” She catches up with you and grabs your wrist making you turn to look at her. She comes face to face with your tear stained face.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” She is officially worried about you.

“I just heard Charlie talking to the boys,” you stop and hiccup due to the sobs that are coming out of you, “and he said that he was grateful for the party because he was able to get away from me because I am too clingy.”

You watch the anger take over her face, she may be small but she sure is scary when she is mad.

“I am going to kill him!” This time you’re the one to grab onto her wrist to stop her from leaving. “No Sav, it’s fine. Let him be that’s what he wants. I am just gonna uber home.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod your head yes. “I just want to be home now.”

“Okay Y/N, I will talk to you tomorrow, maybe bring some Starbucks over?”

“Ya that sounds good, thank you!” You grab her and pull her into a hug, grateful for her friendship.

The uber you had ordered during your running through the apartment arrived. You hopped in, letting the ride back to your apartment fly by in front of yours.

The minute you make it to your apartment, you immediately strip your clothes and hop into the hot shower. You let the water relax you and wash away your sadness for the time being.

You hop out and put your pajamas on getting comfortable in your bed. Your phone dings, it’s a text from Charlie.

“Where are you?”

You scoff at the text that was displayed on your screen, contemplating if you should even reply or not.

You decide to reply, knowing that normally if you didn’t he would show up at your door looking for you and that is not what you wanted. But also after tonight you didn’t know if that would happen.

“Went home.”

That is all you type out before you put your phone face down on your side table and letting sleep overtake you.

The next morning you’re woken up by banging on your door. You roll over, pushing your hair out of your face as it was everywhere.

You check the time on your phone, it’s 9:30 AM. Why is someone at your door this early you think to yourself.

You toss your phone onto your couch as you pass it to get to the door, ignoring the 5 messages from Charlie. Still not in the mood to deal with him.

You swing your front door open and are face to face with Savannah who has your Starbucks order in her hand. The anger you were feeling due to the knocking on your door fading as you see her.

“What’s up sweet checks?” She shoved her way through your door, immediately going to sit on your couch, beckoning you over when she saw you still standing at the door.

She places your drink and food on your coffee table before she faces you.

“Have you talked to him?” You shake your head no, as you shove some of the food into your mouth.

“Well why not?”

“Because Savannah, I don’t know what to say to him and besides I don’t really want to talk to him right now.”

“I understand that, I wouldn’t want to talk to him either.”

You shrug your shoulders at her, stilling munching on the food she got you. You didn’t know what to say, your thoughts still jumbled from last night.

The last thing you knew was what to say to Charlie right now and talking to try to figure it out was not high on your list of things to do at the moment. Your hurt feelings taking over any of your rational thoughts.

“Has he at least tried to talk to you?” You nod your head yes, reaching to grab your phone to hand it to her.

She unlocks it already knowing your passcode and opening it to see what Charlie sent you.

“What do they say?” You ask her not knowing what the messages said.

“You haven’t read them?”

“Nope, didn’t feel like it.”

“They’re just him asking you why you left and if you’re okay.”

You roll your eyes, not trusting his words at the moment after you heard what he said last night.

“Do you want to reply?”

“Nope.”

Then another ding goes off from your phone, “It’s him again.” Savannah informs you.

You just grab your phone and turn the silent option on, not wanting to respond or think about him any longer.

The look on your face, let’s Savannah know everything she needs to know. So she doesn’t push the subject any farther.

“Movie day?”

“Yes! Sounds perfect!” You tell her. You don’t know how many movies you watched or how much time passed by before your eyes closed and sleep over came you.

What you do know is that for the second time that day a loud pounding on your door wakes you up.

This time your house is pitch black and there is a sleeping Savannah next to you on your couch.

You kick her, now waking her up. Your leg was the closest thing to her so it seemed like the best option.

“Dude what?” She asks waking up, you shrug your shoulders and move to go to your door.

This time when you open it, you’re met with a mop of brunette hair. A mop of hair that belonged to none other than Mr. Charlie Gillespie.

The look on his face not as pleasant as the look that was on Savannah’s when she was the one behind your door.

“Y/N, what the hell?” Then again for the second time that day, a body shoves passed you to storm into your house.

Charlie pauses once he is in your living room and sees Savannah on your couch. He just stands there, his eyes switching back and forth between the two of you.

“So you’ll respond to her and let her come over but ignore me since last night?” The anger so very evident on his face.

“I think I should go, I’ll see you two later.” Savannah then leaves you and Charlie alone in an awkward silence as you both just stand facing one another not saying a word.

“Seriously Y/N? You have nothing to say!” He yells, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised though you haven’t had anything to say since last night!”

“Whatever Charlie.” You push past him to sit on your couch, his jaw dropped, surprised due to the coldness you were showing him.

You never acted that way towards him, even in times when he deserved it. He definitely deserved it now, but he didn’t know what you knew so his shock was evident.

“You can’t just leave a party without saying a word to me and then not speak to me all day long! That’s not how a relationship works.”

“I’m just surprised you care.” Your words again shocking him, not understanding why you were acting this way.

“Of course I care Y/N! You’re my girlfriend why wouldn’t I care?” You can tell he is confused, concerned, and frustrated all that the same time because of his tone.

“I was just giving you the space you so wanted Gillespie!” And yet again, you’ve shocked Charlie.

“What do you mean?”

“I just thought you know for once I would give you the space you wanted so you wouldn’t have to be put in such a bad mood due to my clinginess!” By the time you’re done you’re no longer calm, you’re actually yelling.

Charlie’s face falls at your words. Now he knows exactly what you’re talking about, his heart drops at the realization. He didn’t know you heard what he said.

He didn’t even mean what he said, Owen and Jeremy were really quick to call him out and pull the truth for him, but by that time you were long gone.

Charlie had been pushed past the point of exhaustion, everything had been making him mad. He was especially upset about how he had treated you the last few days, but instead of trying to find the truth in his feelings he just decided to blame them on you because it was easier.

“Y/N, honey,” he says moving close to you, trying to touch you. You push his hands away from you, mumbling don’t touch me. His heart breaks again.

“Y/N, I didn’t know you heard that and I am so sorry. I didn’t mean a word of that.”

“Are you sure about that? Because it sure sounded like you did when you were complaining to Owen and Jeremy about it.” Your tone still upset.

“I know that sounded bad and I am so sorry. If you stayed longer you would have heard them yell and call me out about it.”

You just keep looking at him and not saying a word so he continues.

“Which they were right to do. I’ve been feeling really overwhelmed and over worked lately. It’s made me grumpy and I started to push you away which upset me. You tried to help and then I pushed you away more which upset me more, so instead of facing my real feelings of it all I blamed it on you instead.”

You felt your heart soften at his words, you weren’t forgiving him just like that but you understood him feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. You had been in those same shoes before and know it’s easier to blame others sometimes.

Charlie moves closer to you again and this time you don’t move to keep him away from you. “Can I?” He asks, reaching for your hands. You nod your head yes.

He tangles your finger together, the calluses on his hands tickling your softer ones. A small smile makes its way onto your face at the feeling.

Maintaining eye contact with you he starts to speak again, “ I am so so sorry Y/N, it wasn’t okay that I said that and it wasn’t okay that you had to hear it either. None of it was alright or fair to you, especially how I acted these last few days.”

He stops to take in your expression before he continues, when he sees the soft look on your face he takes that as his cue to keep going.

“I love you so much and I shouldn’t have pushed away like that. Please forgive me.”

He pushes out his bottom lip to give you his puppy dog face, the one he knew you couldn’t resist.

Your smile breaks through, causing him to smile as well.

“I love you too Charlie.” You say, “but next time please come to me about it? It doesn’t feel great hearing your boyfriend say your clingy and he is grateful that you’re not around.”

He nods his head along with your words.

“I promise next time I will come to you, no more pushing you away.” He smiles at you and laughs slightly when you lift your pinky finger up to him.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise!”

You then lean in to give him a kiss, but pull away quicker than Charlie liked.

“Are you sure I’m not too clingy?”

Charlie gasps at your words. “Y/N, I promise on absolutely everything that you are not too clingy! In fact you’re not clingy enough!” You laugh at his words.

“If anything my love I’m the clingy one! I showed up at your door after you didn’t talk to me for a day!”

You keep laughing at his words, “That is true!”

Charlie fakes a hurt expression and gasps at your words. He then has your back pinned against the couch cushion and his fingers are on your sides causing squeals to escape you as he tickles you.

“Charlie stop!” You laugh out.

“Take it back then!” He yells over your laughs. “Never!” You’re just barely able to get it out, his tickling gets more intense at your words.

“Fine! Fine! I take it back, it’s not true! You’re not too clingy!” You yell out. He immediately stops tickling you and lays down on top of you wrapping his arms around your waist and yours move to wrap around his back.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Charlie.”

“Promise me that you won’t ignore me for a full day ever again.” You laugh at his words, “I promise!”

Then he has his lips on yours, you melt into the kiss feeling the love Charlie has for you through it.

Your relationship may not be perfect, and at times it may be difficult but no matter what you and Charlie could get through it together. Your love was stronger than any miscommunication or argument.

[angelanika]

Taking the MHA Boys to Church

A/N: While the pastor was putting me to sleep, I thought of this 😂I know all churches are different, so i tried to keep it very general. My apologies if you attend a different place of worship or none at all. 

BAKUGOU 💥

+ “Oi!! What the hell are they even saying!?”

“Bakugou! Just be quiet and listen,” you scolded.

+ Bakugou was very confused when you suddenly decided to drag him to church with you. Why?? Why me?? For what?? He would much rather spend his morning working out or something but here he is in a room full of extras and, apparently, the HoLy SpiRiT. 

“Why are they even wearing that?!”

“Why do they keep telling us to stand?!”

“When the fuck does this end?! They’ve been talking about the same shit for hours!!”

+ The fellow brothers and sisters in your pew are now giving you dirty looks and whispering to one another while you just want to run and hide.

“Bakugou...please lower your voice...”

“HEH?! Why? And why the hell did you make me dress up for this shit?”

+ After what felt like agesss, the service was finally over.

+ PRAISE DA LORDT

+ You felt like sprinting out of the building as soon as you heard the familiar final phrase, but you knew better. It’s now time to deal with the greetings and “friendly” after-church convos.

+ Bakugou, however, made no attempt to socialize afterwards, he just headed straight for the car.

+ While he sat there on his phone, you were being bombarded with questions. Everyone was more than curious about the new “enthusiastic” member you carried with you.

+ As the older members continued to give you disapproving looks and head shakes, the younger ones were more excited to know whether he was your boyfriend or not. 

+ Suddenly you hear the deafening blare of a car horn, making everyone jump. 

“Hurry up dumbass! I got shit to do!!” Bakugou yelled from the car window.

+ You usually wouldn’t let him boss you around like that, especially with that tone, but you were grateful for the escape route. 

“Well I have to go now. God bless.”

+ As you buckled in and Bakugou drove off, you made a mental note to NEVER carry Bakugou to church with you again. 

SHOTO 🔥❄️

+ When you ask Shoto if he wants to go to church with you, he just hits you with a plain “ok”. That’s it. But you know that’s just how he is. 

+ He’s extremely quiet during the service and you begin to worry if he’s bored and wants to leave. 

+ Shoto however, is finding this whole thing to be very interesting and is quite engaged in what is being said.

“Y/N,” he suddenly whispers, “what do they mean by ‘tell your neighbour that they are loved?’ My neighbour isn’t here. Should I text him?”

+ Your heart melts.

+ Poor boy is confused but he’s making an effort 🥰

“No Shoto, they mean the people sitting near you,” you correct him with a small laugh. 

“Oh.”

+ With you being the only other person in his row in the far back, you already expected him to say it to you, and you happily returned the phrase. 

+ What you didn’t expect though, was for him to STAND UP AND MAKE HIS WAY DOWN THE AISLE!?!

“Hold up Shoto! Wait! No-”

+ Before you could stop him, he was squeezing himself in between seats to fulfill his duty.

+ Totally unfazed by the confused (and frightened) stares, Shoto made sure to look each and every person dead in the eyes and say...

“You are loved 😐” 

+ You frantically waved your arms in the air to grab his attention, quickly gesturing for him to come back.

+ When he finally notices you, he smoothly makes his way over. 

“Why’d you call me back? I wasn’t finished.” 

+ After explaining that he didn’t need to tell EVERYONE, he just dropped an “Oh.” and returned to silently observing.

+ When the service was over, he patiently stood behind you while you had your small-talk with the other members, only greeting them with a slight nod. 

+ Back in the car headed home, he suddenly broke the silence...

“Can I come with you again Y/n? I really enjoyed it.”

+ Although his blank expression said otherwise, you knew he meant it and you were overjoyed!

“OF COURSE SHOTO!! You can come with me anytime! 😁but let’s try not to pull that one stunt again...” 

“Understood.”

MIDORIYA 🥦

+ NOTES NOTES NOTES NOTES...

+ You should’ve seen this coming...

+ Even before actually getting there, Deku was already drowning you in questions.

“So where is it?” “What do people usually wear?” “How many seats are there?”

+ Now, double triple the original amount of questions and that’s what’s flying out of his mouth at full speed as you both sit in the pews. 

+ Baby boy will even go as far as to disturb the other members seated nearby, asking for their opinions on different (and seemingly irrelevant) topics before frantically jotting their answers down.

+ If the irritatingly constant sound of a pen scribbling on paper stops, you know another question is coming. 

“Pssst Y/N, how many choir members do you think there are?” he whispers.

“3000 😑”

Deku: 😧

You: 🙃

“Y/N, that’s not very realistic. Maybe you should work on your estimating skills,” he suggests before standing up to finger count them himself.

+ You had to drag him down into the seat by the back of his shirt to get him to sit before the people he was blocking stoned him to death.

+ As tiresome as he can be sometimes, you admired how eager he was to learn more and kinda enjoyed his company. He’s such a pleasant guy, you knew he would never purposely annoy you or others.

+ He even made small-talk with some of the members alongside you after the service, charming them with his blindingly bright smile. They all immediately fell in love with the sweet boy, demanding you to carry him with you again and he was more than happy with the idea of returning too. 

“Next time, I wanna interview the choir! 😃”

“Alright Izuku...😴”