#and the fucker had the audacity to be like “yeah she went for the wrong brother”

[the-backwards-eel]

I once had a friend that knew absolutely nothing about love nikki but started playing it just bc of nidhogg. I think i was looking at nidhoggs wiki and my friend looked over and went “hes hot” and i told them “yeah in the game he commits war crimes and stabs one of the protagonists close friends” and the mf was like “even better”

[yallemagne]

Since I can't just say "I agree" like a normal person---

YEAH LIKE???? JGRIPOERG

anyway, read more bc people get upset whenever I actually delve into real critique of this novel and its characters and writing. Also spoilers ahead.

Van Helsing... really is... go on girl, give us absolutely nothing!! When Mina's kicked out after doing all the heavy lifting, Jonathan carries the entire team on his back with the impediment of being unable to speak to his wife, and VH just stands there and says bullshit. I've teased Arthur and Quincey for dicking around, but that was just clearly poor planning on Bram's part. "Oh. They're out. Investigating." Why do we get no results from that "investigation"? Obviously, they just went out on a couple dates instead of working. At least Jack has a day job. VH has nothing better to do than to brag about how smart he was to stupidly leave Mina out, whine to the Harkers about Renfield not liking him, and nod and say "I agree with your ableism, Friend John" whenever Jack takes a break from abusing his patient to talk to him.

And then, after he's massively fucked up and it's literally all his fault and he hasn't even had the decency to admit he was wrong, VH has the audacity to kick Mina and Jonathan out without even asking them. Because he doesn't actually think that he made the wrong decision, apparently he just thinks he should have left Mina with a chaperone. And Jonathan is baffled by this. What the hell!! He knows that no one will listen to him, so he resolves to ask Mina if this is okay with her or if they're together on this. VH lets him go despite Jack's objections because he anticipates Mina being conveniently on his side once more. He is not ready for her to say no to him.

I would have loved it if VH finally fucking took a step back. But he didn't, and that's why I'm not fully convinced when people say "VH's actions are punished!! the narrative doesn't approve!!" because VH never faces any personal repercussions for dooming Mina. In fact, he gets promoted to being the team's Pope with all those reverent hand kisses Jonathan and Mina keep giving him every time he says something half-sweet. I think Bram really got carried away with VH. Mina is too a self-insert, but Bram decides she simply MUST take a backseat to Van Helsing: the man. Bram spent so much time on VH's phony not-Dutch dialect, he needs to milk it for all its worth!

And The Mentor dying is a trope... (happened in Phantom Blood, a famously good Dracula adaptation... and Stardust Crusaders, another famously good Dracula adaptation--), but I feel like it wouldn't be too much of an eye-roll here. Maybe someone should have told Bram to kill his darlings...

“Any last words, old man?” “God bless you.” Cue him slapping the Son right in the fucker’s face. He doesn’t last long after that, but it’s still a good view to go out on as the Vampire curses and sizzles.

By god, See, you should write this. I'm shaking, it's just so perfect. Having VH's last words be so *gasp* laconic would be poetic as well. VH leaves a couple notes for Jack in case he dies already, it just goes to show that his Mentor status isn't the only death flag he carries.

He certainly is not a bad character. However, I do believe he'd be a stronger character if he took a step back. Maybe... several steps back. It would also strengthen the novel as a whole because Arthur and Quincey would be able to take their much-needed steps forward, and the spotlight would be back on our main narrator trio.

Van Helsing Venting (Vent Helsing)

Requisite apology goes here: I am sorry in advance to everyone with a soft spot for the funky old man.

But the reread combined with the podcast has helped put into focus an aggravation that has been nettling me forever without quite knowing how to articulate it.

I’ve brushed the edges of it more than once in several rants about how the Harkers are so constantly given the short stick in every single adaptation of Dracula for a hundred and a quarter years.

Jonathan is either erased, made into a bore, a brute, or unceremoniously killed off while all the amazing character traits and actions he’s responsible for in the story get stolen away and parsed out to others in the cast, often Dracula, Van Helsing, or [INSERT FEMALE THROWN INTO THE CASTLE TO BE BRIDAL CARRIED TO BED HERE].

Mina is alternately a feeble damsel who’s only there to be the pure maiden who gets to live through her seduction*** by Dracula (versus the suddenly scandalous-and-salacious Lucy), or a hashtag girlboss (reincarnated wife syndrome applied as desired) who divorces or otherwise abandons her milksop husband to hook up with a REAL MAN like DRACULA who sexily sex-liberates her. With sex. That she totally for sure wanted along with the bloodsucking.

But on one thing, the Harkers are equal—they never. Ever. Ever. Get to be the true protagonists of any Dracula adaptation, or spinoff, or offshoot, or revamp, et cetera.

This, despite Jonathan being the one to spend the most time with Dracula, alone, in his gothic horror novella of an opening, for Two Months, in which he got the most interaction and dialogue with the Count out of anyone else in the book.

This, despite him and his diary and his love to the point of blasphemy and his nerve and his kukri all being instrumental for the novel to work.

This, despite Mina being the one to literally compile the entire novel out of the transcripts it’s stitched from.

This, despite her connecting the dots to oust the bastard and showing immense courage all on her lonesome in confronting the Count for others’ sake more than once.

But why?

For the longest time, I was ready to grind my teeth and grouse over the obvious reasons of Jonathan and Mina Harker being so gloriously subversive then—and now!—that writers and directors of a certain sneering bent refused to acknowledge anything of their characters beyond the names when slathering their latest cookie cutter vampire bodice ripper with Stoker’s cast titles. The Harkers’ approaches to gender, to heroism, to defeating a villain whose entire role is being the worst of the Gothic Masculine Monster who bullies and preys upon pretty victims to collect for himself (hello harem and power fantasy combo, let’s make THIS guy the ultra-cool totally misunderstood sexypire star of the show!) all chafe against the mental rewrites too many filmmakers and writers make to turn the novel more palatable to their tastes. Assuming they read the book at all.

And that’s all its own pile of rants. But I’ve realized, only now, that this is just part of the problem. The other issue stems from Bram Stoker himself.

That issue being the conversion of an otherwise tight narrative and set of primed protagonist characters into the Abraham van Helsing Show.

I don’t know what it was about today’s entry specifically that made it all click home. Maybe it was already percolating since yesterday, or the day before. But somewhere in Van Helsing’s latest filibuster of dialogue—‘We must share everything! No, wait, tell her nothing! We must make all haste and not lose a moment! Let me turn five minutes’ worth of information into a monologue about bloom and blood and then suggest we all take a siesta on our laurels since we definitely have time to beat the Czarina Catherine! Jonathan, you stay at home with Mina while me and my non-questioning ducklings/the others who don’t really need lines anyway take care of the problem, doctor’s orders! And all my orders are followed, unquestionably, every time, despite them very clearly having only a 50/50 success rate, as is right!’—it all really hit me.

The moment Van Helsing turned into the never-doubted, never-need-apologize, yes, do kiss his hands like a fucking mafia godfather in gratitude for Doing the Things He Should Have Known to Do in the First Place After Lucy, ‘leader’ rather than ‘the lore collector/mentor’ is when the novel turns on its heel and starts breaking its back to accommodate him at the expense of everyone else.

The Harkers get it the worst, naturally.

Once they arrive in Purfleet and the documents are handed over, Van Helsing leads the pack in peer pressuring them into sequestering Mina away as their cheerleader who Need Not Suffer the Icky Horror of -checks notes- finding boxes. Not sent away anyplace safe and guarded by home rules and garlic and crosses; just left to Yellow Wallpaper her days away in the asylum suite.

Meanwhile, Jonathan proves to be literally the only useful member of this group project via hauling ass all over London to gather information to bring back to the table…which Van Helsing then oh-so-helpfully disseminates on top of the obvious point that, hey, yeah, there’s probably boxes there. We should do Wafers about it.

Now, in fairness, Van Helsing was a vital character up to a certain point. Jack called him in for his broader expertise, for how open his mind was as far as what he was willing to investigate or believe as a threat. Without him and his lore collection in Amsterdam, a lot of the details regarding anti-vampire tactics and Dracula’s history lesson wouldn’t have come into play. All this, plus providing the hideous proof of the Bloofer Lady’s reality, making the last three nonbelievers into members of the Drac Attack Pack. Last but far from least, he helps reassure Jonathan to free him from his crushing self-doubt, and then brings in both of the Harkers to create the full group. Fuck yeah!

All that considered, it does make some sense for him alone to give his little seminar on the Dracula Issue…

…except for the fact that Mina has absorbed and transcribed all the info herself. Literally all of it. And the fact that Jonathan personally knows the fucker. All three of these characters should have been at the head of the table, sharing what they know.

But they weren’t. It’s starting to become all about Dr. Abe—because that’s how Stoker keeps his OC self insert in the lion’s share of the spotlight.

This is also when Van Helsing is fresh off the nightmare with Lucy, fresh off of acknowledging that there is literally no reason at all to keep vampire secrets from anybody in this room, fresh off of being oh so thrilled with Mina’s helpfulness and canniness, fresh off of what should have been him learning his lesson and—in open-minded fashion—cutting off any benignly sexist chivalry at the knees to keep Mina in the loop and share the mastermind role.

And what does he decide?

Off to the tower, princess. It’s man work time! Man work here meaning: Investigate some scary dirt. Some rats are there. Everyone break up some Christ crackers, men. Thank God Mina isn’t here to suffer this, amirite? Oh, and Jonathan, be a dear and gather all the information on Dracula’s locations and properties while me and the others…do whatever. Read? Smoke? Something. Anyway, attaboy, such a good hard worker you are, Only Non-Titled Fresh-From-the-Lower-Class Man in the Group!

And then, after October 3rd?

He’s horrified. He’s upset. He’s King Laughing about Dracula’s good meal and within inches of being kukri’d. But you know what he isn’t?

Apologetic.

Oh, he says sorry for the crack about Dracula eating well—but all the actions that led up to the attack? Not a peep.

And when he falls right back into the ‘withhold as much information as possible until it’s time for a Big Specialboy Meeting and my Big Specialboy Corn-flavored Monologue of the Day, in which I’ll give more orders with full expectation that everyone here will hop to it like good little student-soldiers because the author says we can only follow me me me?’

The only saving grace is that Jonathan—not even Mina! JONATHAN!—finally puts his foot down and refuses to chase the stick without conferring with Mina first. Mina, who has always taken precedent to him, period, but also Mina, who has proven herself to be the soundest mind in the entire group and already well aware of the dangers Dr. Abe has been rambling about and trying to be oh-so-covert and sneaky about with Jack.

On that subject? Van Helsing is STILL living a fantasy world where he, and occasionally Jack, are the only ones who can put 2 and 2 together and consider taking anti-vampire measures against Mina.

When everyone has already read everything.

When Mina knows exactly what the risks and measures are.

When Jonathan ‘Would Sell His Soul for His Love and to Slaughter Dracula’ Harker knows all of this.

WHEN EVERYONE HAS EYES THAT CAN ALSO SEE MINA’S TEETH.

Brammy Pajamas. Bramothy Stokerton. Bramward Stokerbroker. My guy.

Your OC, by your own text’s rules, is not special here. He is not the protagonist. He is not the extra-clever center of the narrative’s universe, per your own fucking writing. Stop forcing this man and his refusal to evolve from his preconceptions and his main character pedestal-theft and his goddamn corncobs down our throats.*

*Note: This will not happen.

The one silver lining yet to come will be that Jonathan and Mina get to roughly shoulder their way back into the story’s forefront by the book’s climax. In a huge way. Jonathan even gets an upcoming scene in which he gets to finally, rightfully, chew Van Helsing to ribbons for casually declaring a Certain Horrifying Action has to be taken (Again! No questions asked! No explanation offered until after said chewing-out!) and the narrative treats this as the right move!

But still. Still. Van Helsing is showered with Stoker’s overblown attention to a character that should have had his influence and dialogue whittled down to a supporting role rather than crowding out the Harkers for two whole thirds of the book, complete with them batting their eyes at how brilliant~ he is for much of it.

Despite.

The facts.

In The Text.

That Mina and Jonathan could have led the the whole fucking thing themselves.

We’ll see in later chapters that Mina is ONCE AGAIN the one to figure out Dracula’s plans ahead of time and set everyone on the right course. Jonathan is ONCE AGAIN the one laser-focused on seeking and slaying the Count almost on a supernatural level. On top of all that? What galls me almost as much as the Harkers being robbed of their story spotlight IN THEIR OWN FUCKING STORY?

If Van Helsing hadn’t been one-man-showing the bulk of the dialogue to make sure Brammington got to wave his self-insert around as much as possible?

We could have let Jack, Arthur, and Quincey be actual presences in the book. Jack has a big role! Absolutely! But even he gets relegated to an orbiting figure rather than an active one once Van Helsing starts hogging the pages. Arthur is practically reduced to a mutely mourning money machine. Quincey gets a few moments to remind everyone Hi, Yes, I am a Cowboy. And that’s it.

THAT’S. IT. FOR ALL OF THEM.

Hell, even Lucy and Renfield get whittled down to wisps of dialogue compared to the whole trees’ worth of lines Van Helsing rattles off.

All because Stoker couldn’t bear to let Van Helsing be the character he should have been.

The support. The guide rather than the commander.

Star Wars isn’t about Yoda, but it wouldn’t be the same without the wise little weirdo! That’s what Van Helsing would and should have been great for! But no!

I see now that I owe at least one small retroactive apology to those movie makers and spinoff writers who try to spin Van Helsing as the very real definite archnemesis of Dracula despite the fact that they have exactly two (2) scenes together and no dialogue. It’s not just the cool name. It’s not just because all of the (frequently male and/or Dracula-crushing) directors and writers refuse to acknowledge Jonathan Harker’s existence or importance.

It's because Stoker himself damn near choked his own book to death with the old man’s screentime, backed up by an utter refusal to let the narrative or the characters acknowledge when he’s fucked up. He always has to be the wise scholar. He always has to command the room and the story when neither of them belong to him.

I’d genuinely like to see one of two adaptations in the future.

In one, we could see a Van Helsing who, following October 3rd, chooses to step back. One where he and others logically point out that he has misled everyone with forced unnecessary ignorance and following stodgy hindering social rules, again, and it has doomed someone precious to them, again. One where the Harkers finally get proper center stage, likewise for the Suitor Squad—the latter of whom are written in canon as having a legit history of dangerous adventures undertaken together. Flesh those out, writers! Let these characters be present in their own fucking story! It’d be a golden opportunity to highlight a point Stoker fumbles even as he champions so many other forward-thinking notions:

Sometimes the older generation has to let go of the reins. Sometimes progress doesn’t come just from following and nodding along, but from forging ahead with new concepts and fresher minds. Case in point, Mina and Jonathan, who are apparently still too radically-written to be bothered with depicting accurately in the 21st century apart from a podcast that is literally just reading their lines verbatim.

The other option an adaptation could take? Supposing it really wanted to lean into the horror and heartbreak and forcing the ducklings to stop grasping at the Dutchman’s coattails?

Kill Van Helsing.

Dracula would absolutely think to target him, assuming that he, the elder with his acquired lore and scholarly nuisance, must surely be the keystone keeping his young enemies together. Given the chance, he’d follow that assumption to its conclusion and, on top of burning what he assumes is all the documentation on him, murdering his fellow clever old man in cold blood, ala Renfield. Bonus points if this comes at a bittersweet cost of Van Helsing landing a parting blow on the Count as thematic penance for ‘failing’ Mina, the second young girl who trusted him and paid for it, giving the bastard his second scar to match the shovel blow on his brow. Double bonus if the mark comes from a Wafer burn.

“Any last words, old man?”

“God bless you.”

Cue him slapping the Son right in the fucker’s face. He doesn’t last long after that, but it’s still a good view to go out on as the Vampire curses and sizzles.

And, natch, he will have been wise enough to leave another memorandum for Jack and the others just in case this very thing should happen. A rousing farewell speech, some parting intel, some apologies made. Perhaps a more personal goodbye to his pupil; complete with Jack’s professional mien cracking like glass and the long-put-off tears finally pouring. Then, finally, the crew move forward as one; no longer leaning on or chafing against Van Helsing’s assumed lead, but using the exact same tools they’d always had at their disposal, along with their own wits that the narrative forced them into ignoring in favor of the Professor’s lectures.

Anyway.

Van Helsing is not a bad character. He’s richly made and interesting, as any worthwhile member of a cast should be! But Stoker crammed him into the wrong role and spread him far too thin across the whole book. Doing so has been detrimental not only to all the media which followed it, but to the actual leads of the novel.

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles - 2022

Day 22 - Feign

--------------------

FCG & Anni (Krook House QueerPlatonic Polycule - Modern Human AU)

Today comes with a warning. Sexual Assault is mentioned in this piece. So if it's a trigger then I suggest you skip today's piece!

“Welcome home, Anni! How was your day?”

Fresh Cut Grass watched as the half asian woman scowled, chucking her bag to the floor with an audibly loud thunk. Ah, bad then. Bad enough that she wasn't even cursing up a storm, it seemed.

Instead Anni stood there, her whole frame shaking.

To not even feign that she was okay…

“Oh… Very bad then.” they whispered, before wheeling up to her side and tentatively reaching out. Some days she couldn't stand to be touched, so it was always best to silently ask permission.

No flinching or stepping away, a good sign.

A second later Anni was leaning into his touch, before slipping her hand into their own.

“... Would you like to talk about it? Have comfort? Or maybe a distraction instead?”

Anni shrugged and absentmindedly kicked the door shut behind her.

“Ash and Milo are out right now. Tai Chi night and all. I think they said they'll be back pretty late, they're seeing that mecha movie after! So um, we have the place to ourselves! We can pull out the amps and make a real racket!”

“... Don't have the energy.”

“Oh well, um… The Pit then? I’ll even give you a ride over there!”

Anni stared down at Fresh Cut Grass, her expression unreadable for a good five seconds. A sigh slipped past her lips, which quirked into the slightest of smiles.

“Yeah, The Pit,” she uttered, her voice a little raspy. Had Anni been crying earlier? It took everything they had to not start prying there and then. That never went well with Anni. “I can walk through. I got legs. Workin’ legs. Workin’ legs that don't hurt like a mother fucker when I walk.”

Ah, there she was! That was the Anni Fresh Cut Grass knew and loved.

Not that quiet Anni was bad, it was just concerning. Quiet Anni usually meant something was badly wrong.

“Okay, but the offer’s still there if you want it later!”

Anni chuckled weakly, letting go of their hand to allow them the freedom to wheel themself over to The Pit. Once they were both there and safely within it’s cozy confines, she drew Fresh Cut Grass in, burying her face in their coily locks.

“... Had a full day of bullshit. Couldn't scream at asshole customers, then at the end had my stupid fuckin’ boss scream at me for not ‘smiling enough’. Like me feigning that I don't wanna kill all those fuckers ain't enough for that bastard! Threatened to sack me if I don't act more like the ‘sweet, pretty ladies’ he likes out front…"

They nodded along sympathetically, lips pursed tight as they did. Both in an attempt to give Anni the space she needed to rant, and to keep their own opinions to himself for now.

“...Then the fucker got handsy. So I slapped him, because NO ONE gets to touch me like that! The bastard then had the audacity to threaten to call the cops on me if I didn't quit on the spot! … So now I'm jobless, pissed off and… and…”

Fresh Cut Grass could feel Anni shudder in their arms, as they felt the incredibly rare flames of white hot fury burn from deep within. That man would certainly need to face justice. Or at least find himself a few teeth down and a rib or three broken in a dark alleyway one night, if Ashton were to have their way.

Honestly right now violence didn't seem all that awful of a solution.

But maybe, to be safe, they should bring this up with Gramps Eshteross first. If Anni was okay with that. A thought for later though.

“Anni I… I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve any of that. I sure hope you gave him a smack at least.”

“Fuck yeah I did. You know I gave it my all! He’s gonna be bruised for at least a week.”

“Good! … But um… still. That- We don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to. I won't force you to talk about anything you don't want to. But this- I mean, you're safe with me, Anni. I know I'm not super strong like Ashton, or quick witted and fast thinking like Milo, but I'd do anything to keep you safe, Ni! You're real important to me… I love you. A lot.”

“... Fuck G-Grass,” Anni’s voice wavered dangerously, the imminent threat of tears coming to all so fast as suddenly, and with little warning, she was sobbing into Freah Cut Grass’ unnaturally silver locks. There he held her, steady and close, whispering gentle words of affirmation. Most went right over her head, instead their sweet tone being all she heard.

And honestly? That was all she needed right now.

Just kindness, honest and pure, and the safety of being in the trusted arms of one she loved so deeply.

To be free to cry, to feel, without having to feign a thing.

[looooooooomis]

Somebody’s Baby

a stu macher x fem!reader one shot requested by the lovely @slasherscream​ 

I try to shut my eyes, but I can't get her outta my sight. I know I'm gonna know her, but I gotta get over my fright.

pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: s m u t, longing, fluff, angst, oral, teasing, honestly I went off (my bad)

Stu Macher never really did stand a chance. At least not when it came to you.

He was putty in your hands, whether you knew it or not. He’d do anything for you, everything for you – even if that meant taking a backseat to Billy Loomis. He had to admit, it was gutting to watch you and Billy interact the way you did. The two of you were close – hell, the three of you were close – but there was something about you and Billy that seemed to just…make sense.

And, for the most part, Stu was okay with that. For the most part being the key words. Because, fuck, he’d be a liar if he said that tonight of all nights wasn’t bothering him. It was a night not unlike any other. The three of you had decided on a movie that Stu couldn’t really bring himself to care about all too much as you and Billy harped on and on about whatever it was the two of you were talking about, but it was your attitude that was rubbing him the wrong way.

You were distant tonight. You were cold. You seemed to smile real big whenever Billy would make a comment about the movie but if Stu said a goddamn word it was as though he’d sucker punched you in the gut. It didn’t feel angry, or at least he didn’t think you were angry, but there was something off about the whole damn thing and it was driving him mental.

You were tucked away in the chair with your knees curled up into your chest, frowning at a particularly bloody scene on the TV, a seemingly important one too, but Stu couldn’t bring himself to watch it. He was far too busy trying to discern what the lines on your forehead meant, what the furrowed brow and small, barely-there frown on that pretty face of yours meant. Had he unknowingly done something wrong? He didn’t think so, but stupid shit came out of his mouth all day long so, he supposed, it wasn’t impossible.

But there was a niggling feeling in his gut that told him that couldn’t be it. You weren’t mad or annoyed, you were cold. You were distant. It was as though you’d barricaded yourself away from him and done so with purpose. But why?

Why, why, why?

“It’s eight, Stu,” Billy muttered, far too engrossed in the movie to bother looking his way. “Didn’t you have to be at whatsername’s by eight-thirty?”

Glancing down at the time on his watch, Stu stretched out his long limbs and chanced another look at you only to find that your eyes were solely focused on the wall just beyond the television. For a moment, he remained still, waiting for you to do something. To look at him, to make a quip about his date, to do literally anything besides ignore him, but when your stare remained cast ahead, Stu sighed and stood up to his full height. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” He griped. “Think she’ll put out?”

It was meant to be a joke, something to lighten the mood or, at the very least, get you to crack a smile or roll your eyes, but when all you did was continue in your stare-off with the fucking wall, Stu’s stomach fell.

What the fuck was your problem tonight?

“Tact, fucker. Y/N is right here.” Billy rolled his eyes but shot him a small smirk. “And if she has a brain, don’t count on it.”

“Hilarious,” Stu mocked. “You guys need anything before I go? Some water? Some beer? Handful of condoms?”

“Fuck off,” Billy cracked a grin. “Don’t do anything stupid tonight.” He gave Stu a knowing look, being sure to keep his mouth shut around you in fear of letting anything regarding their little charade slip.

“Me?” Stu feigned hurt. “Never.”

Once again, he waited for you to say anything – a goodbye, at the very least – but when he got nothing in return, Stu merely rolled his eyes and walked out of the house.

You, on the other hand, remained stoic as ever as you blinked back a flurry of tears daring to spill out of the corners of your eyes. Your heart was in your stomach and your nails, which had been digging into your palms for the better half of the evening, carved out tiny half-moons into the sensitive flesh as you fought back every urge you had to scream and yell at the idiot for leaving you yet again.

The sound of the front door shutting was enough to make your body relax just enough for a few stray tears to roll down your cheeks. You were just so mad and so incredibly hurt all at once and, while you should have been used to it by now, it never got any easier watching that tall bitch of a man you’d grown to love over the years walk out for yet another date with another woman who was not yourself.

“You okay?” Billy asked, lulling his head towards you from his spot on the couch. He was the one person in the world to know your true feelings about Stu Macher and, while he’d never admit to it out loud, you knew he was oddly protective of you when it came to Stu’s idiocy, especially where his dating life was concerned.

You swallowed hard, not quite trusting your voice in fear of breaking down in front of him. So, instead, you remained silent and barely nodded. Was it hot in here or was it just you? You suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe as you sat in the dark room with Billy to your left and Stu now long gone. Deep breaths, you thought to yourself, squeezing your palms yet again. Deep, calming breaths.

You heard Billy sigh as he paused the movie. “Y/N,” he muttered, his tone careful, “how’s he going to know how you feel if you don’t actually say shit about it?”

Through the thick blanket of tears still gathering in your eyes, you focused your glare on the dark-haired man. “Fuck off,” you barked out, “like it’s that easy.”

“It is,” he shrugged. “What’s stopping you?”

“The idiot has a date every week, Billy,” you hissed, “am I supposed to show up with a bouquet of fucking roses declaring my feelings as his tongue’s down some other girls’ throat?” With your emotions at an all-time high, you stood up from the chair and raised a shaky hand to anxiously toy with your hair. “I mean does he have to parade his shit around here the way he does? It drives me nuts.”

Billy remained quiet and still as he watched you pace in front of the tv. He’d seen this frenzied look on your face only once before, but he knew what was coming next. It wasn’t often that you let your feelings finally bubble over to the brink of explosion, but if your current state was any indication, he was about to witness a breakdown.

Standing up to his full height, Billy quietly walked towards you and placed his hands on either shoulder, holding you in place as his brown eyes searched your own watery gaze. “Hey,” he cooed, brow puckered. “Stu’s a fucking idiot if he doesn’t see what’s in front of him.”

You chewed on your lip in an attempt to contain the sob desperately clawing its way up your throat. “I can’t watch him do it anymore, Bill,” you finally said, barely above a whisper. “It just hurts too much.”

It wasn’t often you were met with the soft side of Billy Loomis, but you cherished those moments – though so far and few between – each and every time. With a sigh, Billy wrapped his arms around your shoulders and tugged you close. He said nothing, though, because what could he say? Stu was a fucking moron when it came to you, he knew as much, but uttering those words at a time like this would only hurt you more.

You sniffed, your tears bleeding into the cotton of his white t-shirt. “I swear he—”

“Wow,” Stu’s voice rang out into the silence of the room. Snapping your head towards his sudden appearance, you froze in Billy’s arms, terrified of just how much he’d heard. At first, he seemed to just stand there for a second, staring at the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms with a resigned, almost defeated look in his blue eyes. But all at once, in typical Stu fashion, that serious undertone slowly morphed into an almost amused sneer. “You two move fast, huh? Guess I should’ve grabbed those condoms.”

You rolled your eyes, barely hearing Billy’s sly comeback as you gently pushed him away. That heaviness in your chest that had made you cry only seconds prior was now a raging fire inside of your chest. The audacity this big, dumb, ass of a man had.

“Hilarious, Stu,” you griped, sniffing as you walked back to your chair. “Forever the comedian.”

“Hey,” he held his hands up in surrender. “No shame in it, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t interrupt shit,” Billy said. “And you know it.”

“What are you even doing back?” You snapped, glowering across at the idiot. “Or did you get bored of this one already?” You made a show of looking down at your watch-less wrist. “Five whole minutes, that’s got to be a new record.”

Stu pretended to laugh. “I forgot my wallet, ice queen,” he grabbed his wallet off of the table but continued to glare down at you. “What’s your problem tonight, anyway? You’ve got a stick shoved so far up your ass it’s practically coming out of your—”

“I wouldn’t go there,” Billy warned, flicking the play button on the remote. “Stop while you’re ahead.”

Stu barely glanced at him. “Nah, Billy,” he shrugged and took a seat on the edge of the couch closest to where you sat. “I’m curious. Can’t a guy be curious as to why a broad suddenly decides to give you the cold shoulder?”

“I warned you,” Billy merely shrugged.

“A broad?” You growled. “Get fucked, Macher.”

“What is your issue?” Stu reiterated. “I’m serious. You’ve been acting like a—”

“I’m not getting into this with you.” Pushing yourself off of the chair, you stormed passed both men towards the front door. “Enjoy your date, dipshit.”

Stu watched you go in utter confusion but before he could get up to follow you and continue this entire fiasco, Billy smacked him upside the head. “Leave her be, idiot,” he merely said, not tearing his eyes away from The Exorcist. “Let her cool off.”

“Cool off?” Stu asked with a furrowed brow. “Cool off from what? You two got that heated that fast that she stormed out because I came back inside?”

A long, deep, heavy sigh escaped Billy’s lips as he – yet again – had to pause the movie. His eye twitched in irritation as he surveyed the almost dopey look on Stu’s face. “I just want to watch this damned movie and it’s like a fucking soap opera with you two.”

Stu blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“You seriously don’t know, do you?” When all he received was a blank stare from his friend, Billy pinched the bridge of his nose and swore under his breath. “You’re even dumber than you look, you know that?”

»»————-¤————-««

It was a few hours later when there was a casual knock at your front door. Your parents were gone for the night and, as you glanced at the time, your stomach gave a nervous twist. It was nearing midnight and, while it was a Friday and you were by no means tired, just who would be knocking at your door this late at night eluded you.

Debating on whether or not to answer, you remained firmly situated on your couch as you eyed the front door in disdain. Maybe if you waited long enough, they’d move onto the next house and your life could be spared for another night. But, before you could get too much hope on the matter, another loud knock erupted from the door. This time, however, followed by an all too familiar voice.

“Hey dipshit,” Stu’s muffled voice rang out, “open up.”

“The fuck?” You whispered in confusion before making your way to the front door. Sure enough, as you unfastened the lock, there he stood. Stu Macher in all his glory. His eyes were somewhat wild as he silently stood on your front porch, soaking you in from all angles as his Adams apple bobbed up and down in his throat. For the first time in…well, ever, it appeared Stu was at a loss for words.

“Stu, what the hell?” You asked. “My parents could have been home do you know how late it is?”

“Yeah,” he simply said, not moving an inch from where he stood. “But this couldn’t wait.”

You blinked. “What couldn’t wait?” You asked, glancing over his shoulder to see if this was some weird prank that he and Billy thought up. “Come inside, you’re freaking me out.”

“I—” His words seemed to die on his tongue. “I just need to know if it’s true.”

You frowned. “If what’s true?” You racked your brain for a possible answer but came up empty. “Did something come up on your date or something? If it’s about that rumour with me and Matt Sewinski, I promise you that’s not true. The guy’s a creep.”

Stu shook his head but his eyes remained glued to your face, unblinking. “No,” he simply said, “and I didn’t end up going out with Heather.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I thought it was Sarah tonight?”

Stu shut his eyes in sheer annoyance. “Heather, Sarah, whoever the fuck it was,” he opened those blue eyes open again and the raw intensity inside of them made you take a small step back. “I didn’t go.”

You swallowed hard and suddenly felt a wave of nausea overcome you. “Why?” You gulped out.

Stu licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. He was yet to step foot inside your house and between the maniacal look in his eye and the chilled breeze seeping in through the open door, you shivered absentmindedly. “I talked to Billy.”

Four words. Four tiny little words was all it took to make the room around you spin on its axis. A cold sweat broke out across your chest as you averted your eyes to the wall directly beside his head. Maybe if you didn’t quite look him in the face, you could get out of what was about to become an incredible awkward, painful situation. With your breath trembling, you swallowed again and tried to find your voice. “About what?”

Stu cocked his head to the side. “Y/N,” he warned, “cut the shit.”

Another painful gulp. Your throat felt like it was closing in on you as you stood there facing the boy you’d been in love with for as long as you could remember. You’d often dreamt of this day, the day where he’d finally realize your feelings only to have them reciprocated fully – but when you’d pictured it, Stu looked a lot less crazy than he did looking back at you now. But, even still, there was a glimmer of emotion shining brightly behind those blue eyes that made your breath hitch in your throat.

It made you nervous.

Worse, it made you hopeful.

“Stu,” you tried to find some conviction in your tone, but your nerves got the better of you. “Can you just get inside first? You’re scaring me.” Despite feeling as though you were going to faint, you managed to reach across the divide to yank him inside of your house. Locking the door behind you, you took a few even breaths before turning back around to face him. “What did Billy say?”

Stu ignored your question as he began to pace around your hallway. He was this tall, broad, string bean of a man on a regular day, but the mass of him tonight was all encompassing as he governed your foyer. “Seven years,” he began, his voice slightly shaky. “We’ve known each other for seven fucking years, Y/N. And I’ve hung on your every fucking word for all of six years, eight months and a handful of days, give or take.” He turned on his heel rather abruptly to face you. “But you liked Billy.”

You opened your mouth to respond to the first half of his statement before realization dawned on you. Grimacing, you shook your head. “Billy? He’s like my brother, where the hell did that come from?”

“You act like he hung the fucking moon, Y/N!” He exclaimed, emphatically. “What was I supposed to think?”

“What?” You shook your head in sheer confusion. “Okay, one thing at a time. Billy is one of my best friends. So are you. What’s the problem here?”

“The probl—?” Stu laughed. “The problem? For seven fucking years you’ve been the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of before I go to sleep. And literally every fucking second in between. And this whole goddamn time, I thought you were in love with Billy.”

You were reeling. You weren’t entirely sure if your heart was beating as loud as it appeared to be, but you were sure he could hear it from where he stood a few feet away. “I—” You tried to form a sentence – any sentence – but nothing seemed to suffice. “But the dates?” Were the only words that seemed to spill from your lips. “You were dating – are dating – constantly.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “wonder why.”

You weren’t sure when you’d done it or just how your legs managed to carry you back into the living room, but you found yourself falling against the arm of the couch in an almost dream-like state. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything,” Stu fussed. “I want to know if what Billy told me was true.” He walked up to you and searched your face. “Do you love me?”

You didn’t answer at first. You couldn’t. Not when it felt as though your lungs were about to explode in your chest. You must have opened your mouth a dozen times over, each time with the promise of a formative sentence, but nothing seemed to suffice.

Suddenly Stu’s hands were on you. Squeezing your thighs with those large hands, he demanded your focus as he swooped down and caught your eye. “I need you to answer me, doll.”

You were so focused in on the overwhelmingly glorious feeling of his hands on your thighs that you forgot to answer. Hell, you forgot to breathe. It wasn’t until you slowly managed to tear your eyes away from his hands to trail up the rest of his body towards that striking face of his, that you found your words.

“You came to my house at midnight. You’ve been the one going on dates like it’s a part time job. You’re the one claiming to have been hanging on my every word for the better half of our friendship so, no, Stu, I’m not saying a fucking word until you tell me what it is that brought you here this late?” You pushed his hands off of your thighs and stood up. “All I’ve done this entire time is sit idly by and watch you carry on like Heffner at the Playboy Mansion. You want me to answer you? Not until I get a—”

Your answer came in the form of a kiss.

On instinct, your hands tangled through his hair as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. He might have been on your shit list at the moment, but fuck he was a good kisser. You’d been thinking about this very moment for as long as you could remember. Longer, even, and god was it everything you thought it would be and more.

His hands were on your face at first, cradling it gently as he backed you into the sofa, and then they were on your neck, holding you close as his tongue massaged against your own. Shivering beneath his touch, you instinctively leaned into his broad chest as the pair of you continue to stand there, kissing like your lives depended on it.

“Stu,” you mumbled against his lips. “What are we doing?”

“Kissing” he rasped out before finding your lips yet again. “Bed or couch?”

Every red flag in your head was going off to stop this and properly talk about what was not so subtly insinuated only seconds prior, but he just felt so good and you’d wanted this so so long. “Bed,” you told him breathlessly, without a second thought.

Stu wasted no time in leading you towards your bedroom, kissing his way down your neck as you stumbled down the narrow hallway. Obviously losing his patience about halfway through, he pushed you up against the wall and trailed sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck. “I love you, if that wasn’t obvious.” He breathed out. “Like, a lot.”

His words struck you blind. Ever the dutiful distraction, however, Stu’s hand trailed down your sweatshirt before settling on the waistband of your pajama shorts. Your body reacted to the promise of his hand. Arching into him, you bit your lip and sighed in contentment as his fingers slipped beneath the band. You were already soaked. Your body responded to the man in a way you couldn’t begin to comprehend, and you weren’t sure you wanted to. And as his middle finger slid into your folds, instantly finding your clit, a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Is this the horny part of your brain talking?” You growled, tugging at the ends of his hair so that you had full access to his lips. “Or are you serious?”

“So fucking serious.” He hummed into your mouth. He pinched your clit, garnering a rather surprised hiss to escape from your lips as your entire body lurched forward. Hearing him chuckle, you popped an eye and began to pull his shirt over his head. When you tossed it across the hallway, his eyes met yours. “Do you love me?”

“Yeah, but I have bone to pick with you first,” you chided, doing your best to control your breathing as he quickened his pace on your clit.

He ducked his head down to bite your lip. “Unless it’s this bone,” he ground his hips into you, and you could feel his rock-hard erection even through his jeans. “It can wait.”

You laughed before you could think of stopping yourself. “Jesus Christ, you’re disgusting.”

He was smirking across at you. “You love it.”

Still grinning, you rolled your eyes before your lips took refuge on his neck. Which, as it turned out, was a massive turn-on for Stu Macher. Running your tongue along it and nipping at the sensitive flesh, was getting him incredibly riled up if the bulge in his jeans was any indication. Biting down on the sensitive flesh, the groan it drew out of his mouth was enough to make your already wet pussy clench around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he drew out, sliding the finger that had been assaulting your clit only seconds prior inside of you.

You let out a small moan of your own as you hurriedly got to work on his belt. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you just tell me how you felt?” When you’d managed to practically rip it off of his waist, you wasted no time in unzipping his jeans. His cock sprung free within seconds.

“I thought you liked Billy,” he rasped out gruffly as you began to pump his cock with your hand. “What was I supposed to do?”

You wiggled free from the hand currently down your shorts and dropped to your knees. Looking up at him through your thick eyelashes, you raised your brow. “You could have asked me?” You reminded him, swirling your tongue around the tip of that perfectly girthy cock. The man might have been a pain in the ass but good god he had the assets to make up for it.

Stu braced himself against the wall behind you and threw his head back. Fuck, you were lethal with that mouth of yours. “Hindsight,” he breathed out.

You released his cock with a pop. “You’re an idiot.” Was all you said before getting back to work. With your hand, you circled the base of his dick and took the length of him inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip each time you made your way back up.

He grabbed your hair and gave it a firm pull. “Fuck,” he growled. “Keep going.”

You hummed against his dick, digging your nails into his thigh briefly before looking back up at him. “Or what?” He allowed his forehead to fall against his forearm currently stabilizing him against the wall. You knew you were driving him crazy, but he’d done the same thing to you for the last seven years and you were nothing if not a petty bitch when you wanted to be. “Say it again.”

He furrowed his brow. “Say what?” Realization dawned on him. “Fuck, baby, you keep doing that I’ll put a ring on your finger tomorrow.” Stu’s blue eyes were hungrily taking you in. How you’d managed to stay fully dressed as he stood there with his jeans around his ankles and his cock out was beyond him but, sure enough, that was his reality. “I love you. A lot.”

You dug your nails into his thigh again, and slowly licked up the base of his cock. “Hmm,” you hummed with a nod of your head, releasing it to stand up to your full height. His eyes were pleading with you to finish him off, but as you slinked up the wall and mirrored his hungry gaze, he surprised you by sliding his calloused hand up the side of your neck until it cupped your cheek. You were practically nose-to-nose as he slowly pinned you against the wall and, as he leaned forward and nudged your nose with his, a slow, lazy grin broke out across your face. “I love you, too.”

Slowly, you leaned in and kissed him. Unlike the deliberate make-out session you’d had minutes prior, this kiss was slow and methodical. When you pulled away, you kissed the tip of his nose and nodded towards your bedroom. “Get on the bed.”

Stu’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Pushy.”

You gave his dick a tug. “Go.”

He swooped in again and kissed you before haphazardly kicking off his shoes and jeans, punting them across the hallway as he backed you into your bedroom. When you were close enough to your bed, he broke the kiss to peel off your sweatshirt. Throwing it across the room, his hands were back on you within seconds, kneading and massaging your breasts before taking one in his mouth. Expertly, his tongue ran along your nipple before he began to suck and nip at them. Arching into his mouth, you fisted a handful of his hair and groaned as he pulled you in even closer.

“Stu,” you moaned, shutting your eyes momentarily as you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on your tits. The man truly was a god with his tongue.

But you had a trick up your sleeve. A little payback, if you will. And this, melting into his mouth, was not part of the plan.

Hating yourself, you pushed him away. The back of his knees hit your bed and you watched as he fell back onto the soft mattress with a slight bounce. There was confusion in his stare as he sat there ogling you. “Get over here,” he beckoned, voice low.

Slowly, you shimmied out of your pajama shorts, feeling his eyes on you every step of the way as you stepped out of them and walked towards the bed. Towards him. Sitting himself up, he opened his legs so you could step between them. His hands were slow as they trailed up and down your thighs, hips, and waist before sliding around to your ass. Squeezing and pulling at your cheeks, he pulled you closer and placed a tender kiss to your sternum before craning his neck up to peer up at you.

“I always knew you had a thing for my ass.” You raked your fingers through his hair, pushing it back and away from his forehead as you grinned down at him.

His answer came in the form of another firm squeeze of your ass only rather than stop there, he tugged you closer until you were tumbling onto his lap. You gripped his shoulders as you straddled his lap, subtly grinding your hips so his erection settled between the folds of your pussy, rubbing against your clit.

“Lay down on your stomach,” he uttered. When he noticed your apprehension, he raised a single eyebrow up at you and squeezed again. “Do you trust me?”

You nodded mutely and did as you were told. And, before you knew it, you were sliding off of his lap to lay stomach-down on your bed. You felt the bed shift as Stu crawled towards you but before you could question him on it, you felt his hands slide beneath your hips to pull you up so that your ass was raised in the air.

“What are you—”

Your words died in your throat as you felt his tongue glide along your pussy. Gasping, you nearly buckled forward, but caught yourself on your pillow. You were face down, buried in the comforter and pillows of your bed, but with your hips bent at the level Stu had moved them into, he had full access to both your pussy and your ass. You could feel his fingers kneading into your ass as his lapped up your every fold until settling on your clit. You groaned and buried your face into the pillow as he began to suck your clit. You could hear how wet you were as his mouth imbibed every inch of your pussy.

His name tore out of your throat and your knuckles whitened as you gripped the bedsheets. The veins in your neck swelled with every laboured breath you managed to draw and you found yourself bucking into his mouth as an orgasm rippled through your body. You moaned and groaned and cursed into the bed but Stu’s mouth was relentless. And as he pinched your clit all the while still lapping you up, you all but collapsed. When he was sure you couldn’t take another second of torture, he pulled away and allowed you to collapse onto the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were parted as you attempted to catch your breath. With a quiet chuckle, he kissed his way up your spine, grinning against your skin as your legs continued to twitch.

“Can I?” He asked, his cock at the ready.

Nodding, you gasped when you felt him slide inside of you. He bit down on your shoulder as he thrust into you and his quiet moans and unsteady breath was enough to kill you. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You feel so fucking good.”

This was a high unlike any other for Stu. Watching his cock slam into you, watching your ass slap against him with every wild thrust and pump he provided and feeling just how fucking wet you were for him – this was the unattainable high. You were the unattainable high.

He reached around to play with your clit again. He could feel it throbbing between his fingers and, feeling you tremble made him weak. Quickening his pace on your clit and steadying his thrusting to ensure you finished again, Stu bit down on your earlobe. “Come for me, baby.”

Your answer came in the form of another thick, guttural moan as you came undone yet again. He watched you quiver and shake and the vision of it was enough for him to quicken his thrusts. Groaning, his hands fell from your clit to hold your hips as he pounded into you. The sound of your cheeks slapping against him was drawing him closer and closer to one hell of an orgasm and as you let out one last breathy moan, his whole body seemed to erupt in fire.

His breathing was heavy as he came inside of you and the more sensitive his cock got with every thrust, his pace slowed. For a moment, neither of you moved. Instead, he allowed his forehead to fall back against your shoulder before he slowly pulled out.

“If I’d have known that’s what I was missing, we should have had this talk a lot sooner.” You teased, earning a playful smack to your ass from the man. Grinning, you flopped back onto the pillow and stared up at him. He was leaning on one arm as those blue eyes scraped over every inch of your face. You could see the words he wanted to say splayed out across his face and found yourself reaching up to brush his hair back and away from his sweaty forehead.

“Right back at ya,” you smiled.

Fuck, you really were in love with the idiot.

[miyaniacs]

The One Night Stand pt.2

Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader / Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Part 1 ; Part 3

A/n: I AM SO OVERWHELME. Thank you for all the reblogs, i know around 10 aren’t that much but for me they really are especially in about just a day. I can’t express how thankful i am, your positive feedback is the reason why i already wrote the part 2. I do kinda plan to make a pt 3 too Haha. I‘m always open for any kind of feedback and my dm‘s / ask is also always open if any of you want to thirst or just talk haha.

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of alcohol and a blackout (nothing illegal happened!), public sex & fingering, Toji being the best dad ever (not). and typos, i was just too lazy to read through this mess lol probs going to correct it tomorrow.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader , Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Form: oneshot / short story

“Ohhh that’s why you moaned his name last night.” Tojo whispers in your ear.

Shocked you turn around and look at him, your mouth wide open.

“Careful, you don’t want the others to notice anything, do you?” He smirks. Quickly your trying to act normal again, but your mind is racing.

You did not do this.

No.

Never.

NEVER EVER.

You got drunk last night to get over the fact that Gojo was sleeping over at some random girls place.

You got drunk last night to get those thoughts out of your mind.

You got drunk last night to get over the fact that you are in love with your best friend.

And you hooked up with Toji last night to convince yourself that you don’t have any feeling for Gojo.

You simply couldn’t moan Gojos name.

That would mean that he was still present in yours thoughts.

While some other guy was fucking you.

This is bad.

This is sooo bad.

Especially since you knew that Gojo only sees you as a best friend... a best friend without the benefits.

Yeah yeah, sure how should you know if he only sees you in this way.

You two are always flirting...

But this is just an act.. a game.. you are both pretty flirty- it’s just natural.

Also ... we’re talking about Gojo,..., one of the biggest hoes you knew. If he was slightly interested in you, he’d already made a move on you.

“Hey Y/n, care to finally tell us what happened last night?” Nobara asks and you snap out of the conversation you were having with yourself in your mind.

“Oh yes pleaseeeeeee tell us all the details.” Gojo coos and earns a warning glare from you.

“Come one, y’all aren’t young enough to not piece one and one together and figure out what she was up to last night.” Toji laughs.

“We know that she has one ... or more than one.. Hickey on her neck.. BUT WHO?” Nobara reply’s  and looks at you with a smirk.

“You really think I remember his name?” You laugh, “ I woke up in his flat and then went straight out of it. All I know is, that it wasn’t worth the hickeys.” You joke.

“Oh so your hungover ass, still remembers how bad he was in bed?” Gojo teases and throws a quick glance at Toji, signaling him that he knows.

“Definitely... worst fuck I ever had, I truly doubt i came even once.” You sneer.

“Well... at least you learned your lesson now. Don’t get drunk and fuck a stranger.” Nanami sighs. “Kids, learn from her. Don’t make the same mistakes.” He looks over at the Yuji, Nobara and Megumi.

“Yes, I wouldn’t say that, for me it always went well... but that could also be because I’m just good ... at everything.” Gojo winks, “Y/n just sadly got a guy that ... didn’t knew who to ... please a women.” He says with an arrogant smirk.

“Oh really, was it that bad Y/n?” You feel a hand on your thigh, squeezing it.

“Uhm... I mean, I can’t really remember it..” you stutter, feeling Toji hand move up on your thigh.

“Well.. we should switch the topic now.” Nanami caught and shots us a glare, meanwhile Tojo whispers: ”You should be able to remember this morning right? Or do I need to show it to you again tonight.” His hand moves under the hem of your skirt. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying your best to not let any unwanted sound escape your lips. The only person that could see what’s happening under the table right now was Gojo, but it looks like he didn’t notice it.

You feel Toji’s long fingers brush over your panties, giving you some slow stokes before he decides to settling his fingers right over your clit, drawing random shapes and giving it some light pinches.

“Your fucking son sits across from us.” You hiss at him and grab his hand, trying to stop him.

“Then better be quiet.” He smirks and pinches your clit hard, truly unaffected by your hand... to be honest, you don’t really try to remove his hand... and he knows you’re enjoying this.

The muscles on your inner thighs tense and you bite your cheek even harder.

You’re close and he knows it, it’s not hard to know, judging by how wet your panties are.

You look around trying to see any glimpse of suspiciousness form one of the others on the table, but everyone is having a full hearted conversation, hell even Toji is joking around with Megumi right now. How is he able to act this way, while your sitting here struggling to make a some sort of decent conversation with Nobara.

“Ok girly look. I - I tell you, this one dress would be perfect for you.” You say and force a smile.

“But I already know that it will be sold out, when I’m able to go to the store.” She whines.

“Then... How about we  go tomorrow after practice? I’m sure Gojo doesn’t have a problem with that, right, G- GOJO.” His name left your lips waaay too loud. But what were you supposed to do, when Toji suddenly puts three of his fingers inside of you, curling them at just the right spot.

“Again... wrong name babygirl.” Toji whispers.

“I can hear you, you don’t have to scream.” Gojo says annoyed.

Gojo‘s POV

Do they really think I don’t notice. I‘m just trying to be nice to Megumi. That’s the only reason I don’t say anything... I just want to save him from the realization that Y/n, the women he adores, was fucking his dad. Or most likely he‘s fucking her right now.

The audacity.

And that she is letting him doing it???

I thought higher of her.

... wait what am I thinking.

Why should I shame her, for doing something I already did ... but why is she doing it with him... and not with me.

I want to make her squirm just by my touch, teasing her in public... even before tonight I was sure that she‘d like that. I know her ... I know her better than this old fucker does.

My hand clenched around the glass of my drink.

Concentrate on the conversation Yuji and Nanami have.

Stop focusing on the soft sloppy sounds coming from beside you.

Stop focusing on the way her legs shake... how the fabric of her skirt lifts up and down... how her hand grabs my arm... wait what?

Why is she grabbing my arm?

Your POV

You feel your climax Coming  closer and closer.

Your eyes roll to the back, your eyelids flutter, and somehow your hand finds its way to Gojos arm.

You dig your nails in his soft skin, biting your lips, trying your best to stay quiet.

Your breath stuck in your throat and your mouth opens in a silent scream, your nails digging harder in Gojos skin, surly drawing blood. He should have really had his,..., don’t touch me shield up.

Trying to catch your breath you let go of Gojos arm, his hand immediately moving over yours, while his tumb stocks the back of your hand.

Meanwhile Toji has a smug smile on his face as he removes his fingers and moves them towards his lips, licking them clean, while glancing over at you.

“Uhm.. Y/n... are you okay?” Megumi asks confused, “You look... strange.” He raises an eyebrow.

Before you can answer, Gojo already opens his mouth. “Her hangover kicks in... I think it’s better if she leaves now.”

You look at him, with a thankful smile playing on your lips.

“ I was about to leave anyways, I can take you home, not sure if you arrive home save.” Toji gets up and pulls you up with him an arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up.

“No need to. I can take care of MY best friend.” Gojo says sternly and pulls you out of Tojis grip, now holding you close to him.

Toji raises one of his eyebrows and smirks.

“What’s wrong Gojo, you don’t trust me with her?”

“Yes.” He answers coldly.

“How’s that.  Don’t think I can control myself?” He laughs.

“Think? I know you can not.”

“Please, she’s a grown women, why would it be a problem if anything happens between me and her?” He smirks. You look confused between him and Gojo, not knowing what the fuck happens.

“Because your my DAD and she is my friend/ teacher.” Megumi sighs, clearly embarrassed.

“Because I don’t want her to” Gojo huffs and you quickly wiggle out of his grip.

“YOU DONT WANT ME TO?” You cross your arms and look at him.

“Yes. You don’t have to walk around fucking with random man, way too many years older than you.”

“Oh you are one to talk. How many this week mhm? Three?” You hiss.

“Please that’s different.” He sighs and scratches his neck, “ and no, only two, i actually spent two nights with the last one.” He smiles.

“OHHHH Two nights. And you forbid me to spent two nights with the same guy?”  

To underline your words, Toji wraps an arm around your waist and rests his head on top of yours.

“What’s wrong Gojo? Jealous?” He chuckles deeply, “Come, let me get you home and take care of you babygirl.” Lifting his head, he guides you away from the table and out of the bar.

Throwing one last glance over your shoulder you see a shocked Megumi, mouth hanging wide open, Yuji and Nobara looking confused from you back to Megumi. Nanami has his head in his hands. And Gojo mouths you a: “Please don’t leave.”

His sunglasses in his hand, showing a mixture of emotions in his eyes.

Your heart tightens when you look into his eyes.

“Don’t look at him. I promise he’ll be confessing to you in a matter of time.” Toji whispers and pulls you outside.

“You- You planned this?!” You ask him shocked.

“Please his feelings for you are pretty obvious. Especially how jealous he acted, i thought he’d screamed that he loves you right there at the bar.” He throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you closer. “Let daddy help you, yes?”

“Please don’t call yourself Daddy.” You groan.

“But I thought you liked that name for me?”

“I really need to stop getting drunk.” You whine, earning a loud laugh from him.

“But.. are you sure... about Gojo... I really do-“

“Yes. Yes he has feelings for you, which aren’t just the ones friends have.” He rolls his eyes annoyed.

“But before he gets to you, lets have some fun yeah?”

“Thank you.” You say and grab the hand, hanging over your shoulder, kissing it.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m doing this to get on his neves, not for you to be happy. I wouldn’t mind fucking you for some more days.” He smirks, lucky for him, the night hides the soft blush on his cheeks.

With his arm wrapped around you, you guide him to your apartment.

“Hey, but never finger fuck me again when your son is on the same table.” You huff.

“Why not, you basically told him that you and I are fucking.” He laughs.

“Fuck.”

Taglist: @laceymorganwrites @ereeeeehhh @gojocumslut @channieboiiii @wingedcreatorgoopwagon ( I tagged some of uou who reblogged it, I hope this was okay )

[sukirichi]

I feel dizzy man... I felt like i was floating while reading the whole part with tooru

Bitch is falling in love but at same time he refuses to steal someone elses wife and knowing how he was chained down to maiko bruh it makes me hate her ngl 🤣🤣🤣🤣

But yeah the whole part with tooru was painful but at same time light hearted? Like it brought some comfort kind of feel you know? Like y/n needed that

Also their chemistry 👌and when he said 'if you were mine i would never hurt you' TOORU TAKE ME PLS FUCK RINTARO FUCK IRIS FUCK MAIKO LETS RUN AWAY TOGETHER

Also the fact he needs to fucking fight for his place in the table and that not even his clan accepts him..... Man my heart hurts for him...

And then the whole part with rin started and from then on i went from floating to never ending falling.. The more i read the more i expected to hit the ground at some point but the feeling kept going and going

I hate how he just straight how said he would be lost without her how he looked so lovesick while talking about her how he lied the whole time.. At least tooru never lied about his marriage about how he absolutely hated it.. And rin just fucking- and he even had the audacity to say 'im yours' no rin... Youre not in paper yeah but not in heart

And it fucks me up how he acts and sounds so conflicted all the time like he is actually confused by his feelings and yet still says with all certainty he loves her

I guess the crashing feel was when he was on the other side drowning in guilt while y/n decided to sleep in the couch and basically not want to pretend anymore but i guess tooru helped not feeling the crash as much

The whole chapter was very well written as well i hate the fact i can never put it in words what i feel while reading it cause anything i write feels weak comparing to what im feeling

Sorry 😭😭😭 i try

Thank you for another chapter hdhdgdh and ugh i hate how the clown in me now wants to run away with tooru but still wants for rin to end up noticing y/n you know? Now that shes ignoring him, maybe realize that his guilt is not just guilt man i just i wish for him to grow feels or realize he has feels for y/n in a way

Ayo i didnt leave a long ass rant like this in a while feels nostalgic hdhdhsh

my best friend, the fellow oikawa fucker, LETS GO.

lmaooo so true, he’s crushing on yn so hard but he’s like “nope, i’m married! i can’t be with someone else that isn’t my wife because that’s wrong! i hate my wife tho.” but like honestly, i love how tooru is firm with his beliefs. he’s not like suna that always gets confused with his guilt for using yn and succumbing to iris again. tooru isn’t like that. sure, he likes us, but he knows he should never seduce someone else’s spouse that he just keeps a safe distance and makes things as platonic and casual if possible. notice how the moment he starts getting romantic thoughts about yn, he scolds himself to stop thinking about it. rintaro would neverrrr. 

‘if you were mine, i’d never hurt you.’ SIR, I WISH I WAS YOURS. TAKE ME RN. PLEASE. MARRY ME. LET’S LIVE IN THE COUNTRYSIDE AND BE HAPPY. FORGET ABOUT YOUR CLAN AND YOUR ROYAL TITLES sobs 

‘ it fucks me up how he acts and sounds so conflicted all the time like he is actually confused by his feelings and yet still says with all certainty he loves her ‘ see, the thing about rin’s dilemma is that he actually sees our worth, but that’s all. he just sees it. he doesn’t do much about it. he’s conflicted because he knows losing us would also be a great loss, but he just needs to choose - lose iris or lose us? both mess with him. he wants to keep both even if that’s not gonna happen. he’s stuck between this fantasy with iris that they’re going to be happily together and the reality that we are there, we’re married, and it’s hopeless.

and aw yeah, i missed your long asks to me! i always spent minutes just rambling with you too GHJKAA and thank you always for supporting me, i love you!

[spideymarvelws]

Always But Not Forever

Mob!Tom Holland x Reader

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My TagList

Summary : During the interrogation of a mole, Tom learns something

A/n : I want to write something for the holidays but i dont do fluff (unless its requested) so here’s a angsty mob!au instead

Warnings : Torchere, blood, violence, cursing, illusion do death, fluff if you squint (dont worry it doesnt last long), mention of injuries, mention of manipulation, implied death?

Word Count : 1.7k

...

“You know, I almost admire the audacity you must’ve had to pull off something like this,” Tom chuckled, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up, “To betray us, to betray me,”

The pads of his fingers passed over the array of equipment laid out on the table in front of him, teasing the handles of guns, knives and other various torchere devices. Usually, he would just grab his trusty blade from the holder on his belt, slicing the person's throat to watch them bleed out on the chair, coughing and pleading for their life.

But this was a special occasion, one he wanted to drag on for as long as possible. He wanted to hear her screams fill the room, echoing its way around the warehouse. He wanted the floor to be soaked in her blood, dripping from her skin. He wanted to watch her life drain from her eyes slowly and painfully.

But first, he needed to get answers.

“So,” he said slowly, “Are you going to tell me why? Or do I have to force out out of you,”

The woman only chuckled, her eyes hooded as she stared him straight in the eye, “I think we both know the answer to that Tommy,”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growled, striding up and grabbing her throat with enough force to lean the chair back, not caring if it were to fall and break on the hard, concrete floor.

“Aww, what’s wrong?” she fake pouted, “I thought you loved the name? Or is it only reserved for your whore of a wife,”

“You really want to die don’t you,” Tom chuckled darkly, bending down to look her directly in the eyes, face inches apart, “You’re on thin fucking ice,”

“And I want to shatter it,” she sneered, leaning her own face forward as much as she could with the restraints tied around her, “Just like I did your best pals heart,”

Tom felt his chest tighten at the mention of Harrison. He would never blame the blond for what happened, because despite the guilt he held, he knew that it wasn't his fault. He blamed himself for getting his friend in the hospital on his deathbed. Well maybe not that drastic, Harrison was a hard fucker to get rid of, he knew that no matter what he would hang on  but it felt like he had already lost him.

He couldn't get the images out of his head, the flashes of red, screams pounding in his ear. But the sight of her standing above his best friend, gun in hand, ready to fire. The thought alone made his go feral.

And he hated that, he hated that she knew how to get under his skin so easily. After getting so close, to not just him but his close family, his friends, to you. He could already picture the hurt that would spread across your face when he would tell you. You both valued close bonds with people, building that relationship to something reliable, something worth trusting.

So when that trust was broken, all hell broke loose.

“I’m sure you’ll do just a fine job at that,” he muttered, standing back straight up, “And the moment you do I’ll put a bullet between your eyes,”

“Oh we both know you couldn't do that Tommy,” she smirked, “Not when I have so much valuable information that you so desperately need,”

Tom chuckled, picking up a syringe filled with a light blue liquid. His fingers flicked the cover before taking it fully off, revealing the needle to the open air, “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he turned back around to face her, his face void of emotion, “Gag her,”

Him and his men had spent the next, god knows how long trying countless methods and tactics they always used to get people like her to talk. But nothing worked, even after repeatedly taking out the gag, waiting for the answers they had been searching for, she didn't budge.

She stayed completely stoic.

Tom tried his best to keep calm, unbuttoning the top of his shirt when his breath became restraint with the added pressure to around his neck

“It wouldn't matter anyways,” she sniffed, finally calming down while spitting out a wad of blood from her mouth, “I’ve already gotten what I wanted,”

“What the fuck is that suppose too mean,” Tom said exasperatedly.

“It means-,” she interrupted herself while trying to stop the sick laughter threatening to erupt from her throat, “I never thought you cared so much about me Tommy, to spend so long with me when-,” she tilted her head to the side, “You have a wife at home don’t you?”

Tom felt his heart stop, “What did you do?”

“Might want to check that little wifey of yours Tommy,” she cackled, blood splattering from her mouth, staining the collar of her shirt and the floor in front of her, “Who knows how much time she might have left!”

“WHAT! The fuck! Did you do!” He screamed, clutching her bloody shirt in his fists, not caring if some of the liquid transferred to his already red hands.

“You left me alone, with Y/n, for months,” she giggled, “What do you think I did?”

“If you hurt her-,”

“You’ve already done your worst to me Holland,” the grin settling on her face became unsettling, “Now it’s my turn to watch you suffer,”

Tom didn't want to question her further. He didn't want his temper to take over the little control he tried to maintain over his mind. With a short gruff he pulled away from the woman, walking over to one of his men stationed by the door of the warehouse.

“Break her legs and take her to the hut, prepare the call and get Dr brown on the phone and tell Sam to get to Y/n as soon as possible,” he whispered under his breath, “Take me back home to my wife,”

...

“Good Girl,” you yawned, lazily scratching the top of Tessa’s head. It had been a chill day for you in the mansion, lounging around in your husband's clothes while you decorated your section of the building, preparing for the holidays. Tom insisted on getting decorators, knowing how clumsy you were, he didn't want you to hurt yourself. At least that’s the excuse he told you, you knew it was because he didn't want you doing any work on your holidays. 

Nevertheless, you were proud of the work you’ve done, the lights strung along your bedroom walls illuminating the room, making your placement by the window feel more cozy than usual. And with the addition of the cutest dog and a mug of ginger tea, staring out into the snowy garden never felt more calming. The only thing that would make this better is to be cuddled with your personal teddy bear, but your prayers were answered when he called unexpectedly.

“Hi Tommy,” you answered sweetly, gulping down a good bit of the tea,“What’s wrong? I thought you were busy with work?”

“Y/n?” Tom said seriously, a hard edge to his voice you never heard when he talked directly to you, “Y/n, you need to listen to me right now, okay?”

“Okay,” you sat up, throwing your blanket off your lap, “Okay, yeah,” you learnt not to question things like these with Tom’s line of work.

“Where are you right now?” you could hear the click of his shoes hitting the floor in the background, the sound of the vehicle's engines vroomed to life.

“I’m in our bedroom, with Tessa,” you answered quickly, squinting your eyes when you watched her body bounce away when your hand retracted from her fur, “Well just me now,” 

“You’re going to need to go to the medic bay, Doctor Brown will be there and he’ll explain everything,” a car door slammed shut, “Sam is coming to escort you, just,” he let out a deep breath, “Are you alright?”

You melted at the crack in his voice, clearing your throat before answering him, “I’m fine Tommy, never felt better,”

“Are you sure love?” he whispered, his voice losing its harsh tone, falling back to the soft, breathy one you grow to love.

“I’m-,” you moved away from the phone, coughing into your sleeve, “Sorry, uh, yeah I’m fine Tom,”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re okay to me,”

“I-,” you coughed again, this time more violently that the last, “It’s just a cough, probably from that food truck we went out to last night,” you forced a chuckle, trying to keep the air as light hearted as possible.

“A cough? When did this start,” Tom said urgently.

“Uh, this morning i think?” you sniffled, shuffling around to find a tissue box for your sudden runny nose, “I’m sure it’s just a bug Tommy,”

“Y/n, Is Sam there yet?”

“I didn’t hear him no,” your coughing continued, “Do you want me to go outside to check?”

“No, no, stay until he comes, I don’t want you going by yourself,”

Tom’s words began to blur when you took note of the red sploshing your white hoodie. You ran to the bathroom, cursing at the blood trailing from your nose, staining the bottom half of your face.

Your raging coughs continued, splattering droplets across the marble counter

“Love? Are you still there?” Tom said panicked, “Sam said he’s moving as quick as he can,”

“Tommy,” you whimpered, your hand clutching your chest in pain, “I-,” you braced yourself against the counter, feeling weaker and weaker, “Tommy, I don’t-,”you grabbed at your closing throat, “I don’t feel so good,” 

“Love? Y/n?” Tom said frantically, “Hey, hey, hey, listen to me, Sam is almost there, I’m so close to our house, hang in there okay?” he debated his next words, “You’ve been poisoned okay? You’ve been poisoned and if you get the help in time you will get better, just,” his voice hitched, “Please don’t go,”

Your throat burned as your breath started to become short, hiccupy wheezes. Blood began to drip from your nose and mouth onto the tiled floor. You could feel your chest tighten, your heart physically hurting until you couldn't take in any longer.

“Tom-my?” you managed to let out before collapsing on the floor, the shouts of your name echoing in the back of your ear before blackness covered your eyesight, followed by a bright, white light.

...

Permanent TagList : @jadegill​ @joyleenl​ @sarcastic-sunset-7​

[fawad-khan]

Together Always

A/N: hey guys, this is a part of @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh 's 1k writing challenge, congratulations again, queen K! I hope you enjoy. I’m so sorry for the delay hvfuuvcurv, i hope you enjoy! This is my longest yet, if this flops, i will be angy :)

Masterlist

Pairing- Harry Holland x reader

Warning- some angst maybe? mentions of hospital, nothing too gory, maybe swearing here and there

Word Count- 3.5k+ (woohoo!)

Prompt- “Marriage? Pass”

Prompt will be in bold

Summary- you finally realize why people choose to go ahead and take a long term committment with each other.

(At age 10)

You were sitting on a park bench alone, crying by yourself. No one was around, for you were sitting in a quiet and empty part of the park. Your head was bent to your knees, which you had brought closer to your chest. You were so engrossed in your own sorrow that you did not notice two identical faces catching your sight and walking towards you, wondering what was wrong.

"Hey, what happened? Are you alright?" You heard a voice in front of you and looked up, seeing two twin boys standing in front of you. One of them had curly hair, while the other had straighter hair.

"Well no, I'm not in a really good mood right now." You replied meekly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The curly haired boy asked. You let out a sniffle and wiped your wet eyes. They sat down beside you, the curly haired boy sitting on your left and patting your hand for comfort, and the straight haired boy sitting by your right.

"Well, uh it's just that my mommy an-and my daddy they do-don't want to live with each o-other anymore and are getting a d-divorce."

"Oh, uh that's really sad to hear. Do you know exactly why this happened though? Like do they fight or anything?"

"Harry, don't ask her all that! She will tell us if she wants to."

"It's ok, uh they kind of fight a lot everyday and I overhear them saying they cannot live like this and all, I guess." You said, smiling sadly. "Now I have to decide who I want to live with. It's gonna be a bit hard for me." You sniffled again, making the boy named Harry (you guessed when the other boy called him) rub your arm in comfort.

"Well if you ever have any difficulties, we don't live very far from here. You can always come and maybe live with us, if our mum agrees with it."

"No no, I don't wanna burden you like that, but uh sounds nice!"

"Oh and I'm Harry, he's my twin Sam." He said, pointing to the straight haired boy.

"I'm (y/n)." You said, shaking their hands. Little did your 10 year old self know at the time that their friendship would make a tremendous difference in your life.

----

(6 years have passed)

It has been 6 years. You decided to finally move in with your dad, partly because he was kind of a better parent to you and partly because his house was near the Hollands, which made it easier for you to see the twins more often.

Ever since that day, you had become great friends with Harry and Sam. Of course, through them, you also met Tom and Paddy and their parents, and they were the sweetest people you ever met. They helped you go through your parents divorce, as it is always very difficult for a small child to go through such things alone. They were like a second family to you. Tom kind of became like a protective older, while Paddy was like a little brother.

Harry and Sam were your best friends, of course. They never failed to always keep you happy and amused, especially when they did a lot of silly things on purpose.

Harry never failed to pull you out of your blues. No matter what it was, he always managed to get a smile out of you every single day. He made you feel warm and fuzzy every time it was just the two of you together. You often accompanied him whenever he would do some casual photoshoots, as you were a great help to him, giving valuable tips, helping him choose a perfect scene, etc.

Of course, as you grew older, puberty was obviously very much favourable to all of you. Harry was no longer the cute little boy with a baby voice, you were no longer the small girl with a doll face. Harry grew more tall, his muscular features become more and more prominent. His voice had become deeper, which you found pleasant to hear all day long. Not to mention, he was more attractive as well, so naturally he often attracted the attention of girls in school which often made you jealous.

Sam of course grew up to be a very charming and handsome lad as well, quite like his twin. His cooking skills had improved a lot too. But, the bond between the two of you was more platonic. You felt a deeper connection with Harry, something more than friendship. You were still wary of a long term committed relationship, given that you had gone through your parents divorce, but that did not stop you from daydreaming about what it would be like if you and Harry were together.

----

(Age 17)

It was your senior prom and your date had turned out to be a bitch, deciding to never show up at your house to pick you up. He had messaged you about having caught the flu, and right when you were about to just give up and stay in at home instead, Sam insisted that you come to prom anyway. What you did not know was Harry had not managed to get a date, so he just decided to show up solo. He had been hoping to ask you, but seeing that you got a date already, he decided to just go by himself.

So when he saw you alone and dateless, looking absolutely impeccable and breathtaking in your body hugging purple dress that ended above your knees and hair opened save for a small braid in the side, he decided to take this chance and go for it.

You had seen him too, looking so handsome in his tuxedo. How you were mentally wishing that you both would be together instead. The way his curls flopped despite his best efforts to keep them tidy only made him seem hotter in your eyes.

"What happened? Todd ain't here?" He asked, referring to your date.

"Na, he's had a bout of flu, at least that's what he says."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I dunno, I guess I just kinda had this coming you know, maybe I'm not meant to have a nice date to a dance and have fun. Ah, just my luck."

"Come on, any guy would be lucky to be with you."

"Yeah right." At that moment, his eyes fell on a couple who had entered the ballroom, and when he realised who it was, his blood boiled and his fingers were clenched as he tried to control the urge to just go and punch him.

You could feel him tense up beside you, and looking at his face, you could sense something wasn't right. His face held an agitated expression.

"What's the matter, Harry?" You asked, concerned.

"I hate to tell you this, but uh looks like Todd is in perfect health." He mumbled.

"Wait whatever do you mean?"

"See for yourself." He pointed you in the direction where he was looking, and to your immense surprise, there was Todd all suited up, getting quite cozy with some random chick who was in a dress slightly shorter than the prescribed dress code. You could feel your blood boiling. The audacity of the motherfucker to lie like this and then just show up like that, you couldn't control the rage building in you.

Before Harry could stop you, you stormed your way towards the couple, who were now making out in a corner and ripped them apart. The chick had barely uttered a word when you gave him one tight slap.

"Fucking bastard, so this is your flu? How did I even agree to you, you son of a bitch?!" You shouted out so loud that now the whole hall of students was staring at this scene. Harry finally came behind you and held your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down.

"Hey hey hey, just leave that fucker alone, okay" he whispered in your ear and dragged you away from them towards the drinks table. He handed you a cold drink and you gulped half the drink in one sip, which helped you to calm down.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, holding your hand for comforting you.

"Yeah, I'm fine just, I should've expected this would happen, I guess. I don't think boyfriend and all is meant for me." You said, feeling a small lump in your throat as you felt tears in your eyes.

"Hey hey hey, now don't say all that." He lifted your chin up and looked into your eyes. "Don't cry over that wanker. You wanna dance with me?" He held out his hand, waiting for your answer. You wiped your tears and smiled at him, taking his hand, which he took as yes.

He took you to the dance floor and held you by the waist, pulling you closer towards him. Some slow music was playing. You held his shoulders and rested your head on his chest, swaying slowly to the music. The space between the two of you was not that prominent now, and you could hear your heart beat very loud and felt that Harry could probably hear it too.

He was feeling sorry. Sorry that you were made upset by a total jerk, but at the same time glad because that was the reason he was here, holding you close, dancing with the prettiest girl he knew, the girl he had liked over the years. He could smell sweet shampoo from your hair, mixed with some perfume you had applied, lulling him into a trance of you.

The beat of the music changed as the DJ changed into another song with faster rhythm, making you pull away from each other as you matched to the rhythm. He accompanied too, although he wasn’t too great of a dancer, but he still looked cute trying to match your moves, making you giggle at him. You danced to a few more songs, before you felt a little hungry and thirsty, signalling Harry who was feeling the same. You went to the snack counter and got some snacks for both of you, while he got the drinks. You quickly chugged the drink and snacks at once, making him laugh, you following suit.

“Thanks for this Harry, I’m really enjoying prom.”

“You’re welcome, love.” you froze a little at that nickname. Love, huh. You’d love to get used to that nickname. You just smiled in response.

The rest of the prom just went in a blur. All that you really remembered and cared about was when you sneaked out of the party and took a walk in the park. You both were just walking side by side, hands brushing every now and then. Harry suddenly stopped and let out a deep breath.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

“Yeah Harry?”

He cupped your cheeks and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, catching you off guard. Slowly you melted into the kiss, moving your lips against his soft ones. He pulled away from you, eyes closed and pressed his forehead against yours, hands still cupping your cheeks.

"Would this be a good time to say that I like you? Like maybe we could be something more?" His eyes slowly opened, looking into your (y/e/c) eyes, both of you knew the answer.

"Yes Harry, I'd love that." You said smiling, making him grin from ear to ear. He leaned in again to kiss you harder, one hand still on your cheek while the other pulled you closer by the waist to practically press into his chest. Your hands went around his neck as you kissed him harder as well, with more passion, as if letting out all of the tension into it. Needless to say, this was your happiest memory of your lives.

----

(Age 23)

You never thought that you'd be in a relationship this long, but here you were, six years later. Harry was now a professional photographer and often had lots of photoshoots lined up for him. You had decided to take up journalism, as you were fond of writing a lot and often wrote plenty of articles in your school days.

You both now lived together in an apartment of your own, not very far from the Hollands'. You were both busy in your professional lives, but always found time for each other as well. You’d maybe go out on dates to a restaurant or to the movies, or have a night in having a movie night or just do something goofy or have some fun ;)

He has always made you feel complete. Neither of you really felt the pressure to go to the next step, which was marriage, or well so you thought. Harry would lie if he said that it didn’t occur to him. However, he knew that you weren’t ready just yet. He did not mind much, so as long as he could be with you all his life.

You were sitting and having tea with one of your colleagues Sally, who was also a good friend of yours. You were just sitting and discussing stuff about some work and boyfriends, bitching away about some stupid colleagues in your office.

“Oh also, I have something to say.” she said in a very excited voice.

“Oooh what is it?” you asked, curious as to what she was going to say. She simply squeeled a little and  thrust her left hand in front of your eyes and you saw a beautiful silver princess cut diamond cut ring on her ring finger. You covered your mouth, a big smile on your face. You gave her a big hug. You were so happy for her.

“Oh my god, Ricky proposed? I cannot believe this! When did this happen?”

“It happened this morning! He did it when I woke up! Isn’t he so amazing?”

“Of course Sal, I’m so happy for you!”

You could not, however, feel a panging in your heart. It felt a little like a longing pain, as if you would love for something like this to happen. You had no intentions to settle for a long term commitment like a marriage, but maybe, just maybe, there was a teeny tiny part in you that perhaps wanted that with Harry.

“So what about you and Harry? Are you guys planning to marry any time soon?” she asked cheekily. You gave a clamped smile.

“Marriage? Pass.” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though your voice quivered a bit.

“Are you sure though hun? I mean, you and Harry have been going strong for years now. Don’t you even think about it sometimes?” 

You gulped. She was kind of right.

“I don’t know, maybe? Ok, yes maybe I’ve thought of this a few times.” you paused to take a sip of your coffee and continued, “well actually speaking, I have some issues to be in a long term commitment. So far, I am kinda surprised that I’ve been in a relationship this long, although Harry is really amazing. It’s just that, I don’t want that if we marry then something happens, creating a wedge between us, and then we have to split up. Like, in the case of my parents as well, who couldn’t wait to leave each other. I guess, I’m just scared of that happening, that’s all.”

“Oh I see. Hey, its normal to feel scared of what may happen in the future. I would be lying too if I said that I’m scared too. But sometimes, we just have to go for it, you know? Life is a roller coaster, yes, but if you find the right person to spend it with, then you’ll be ready to face them.” she held your hand to give you assurance. You let out a breath and nodded in agreement.

“Thank you so much, Sal. Also congratulations again! I’m so happy for you!” you hugged her again and headed towards your bike to go back to your apartment, Sally’s words never leaving your mind.

----

(many weeks later)

You were sitting in your office cubicle, editing an article on your computer. Suddenly you saw Sam’s name flashing on your phone as it buzzed since you had put it on silent. Sensing that something was up, since he never called you while you were at work unless it was an emergency, you picked up the phone, a “hello?” leaving your mouth. If you were not mistaken, you could hear him crying.

“Sam? What happened? Is everything okay?” you asked, getting worried.

“Oh (y/n), come to the hospital quickly. Harry’s been admit-ted.” he stuttered, followed by more cries. Your hand flew to your mouth, you went into a shock. Harry? In the hospital? Was he ok? With so many questions buzzing in your mind, you managed to mutter a quick yes and got up from your desk, gathering your bag and telling your boss briefly that you needed to go to the hospital urgently, to which he agreed. You quickly climbed on your bike and drove to the hospital, which was thankfully not very far off.

You went to the receptionist, where Sam was standing, waiting for you. Seeing you walk towards him, he just gave you a hug, tears dropping from his eyes. You hugged back, trying your best to soothe your best friend by patting on his back.

“It’s ok Sam. Where is he?” your voice was suddenly high as you choked back your tears. He just led you to a hospital room, where Tom was sitting beside the hospital bed, face tear stained. He gave you a small and faint smile when he saw you. Your eyes finally fell on Harry, who was lying on the bed, his eyes closed. The heart monitor was bleeping, he had an oxygen mask on his face. Many wires were attached to his left hand, for medicine and blood supplies. He had some bandages on his left arm and his left leg as well.

“Wh-what exactly h-happened?” you stuttered, tears spilling from your eyes. 

“He got into a crash, and got injured. The doctor said that he hasn’t suffered too many injuries, but he is yet to gain consciousness.” Tom said, voice still shaking. “We’re all just waiting for him to wake up.”

You took a seat beside the bed and held his right hand, which did not have any needles. You muttered a silent prayer for him to get well soon. You stroked his hair as he kept on sleeping peacefully.

----

Harry finally regained consciousness two days later. You all were so happy and relieved. The doctor also gave good news that he was better and would be good to go in two more days, as he had to do some minor check ups. You were relieved that he was going to be alright. You had been so afraid to lose him, as you couldn’t imagine your life without him. He had been your support all your life. 

Oh. Oh. A realization hit you. He was your whole life. You did not want to spend your life without him. This episode of almost losing him had made you realize it. You quickly made your way towards Harry’s room, where he was just lying awake. Sam was telling him something, and he had an amused look on his face.

“Hey, babe. How are you feeling?”

“Better. How’re you?”

“I’m great. Hey, could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah sure, (y/n/n) what is it?”

You took a deep breath. “So uhh, I’ve actually been thinking ever since we almost lost you. I don’t know, but it got me thinking. You know how I’ve always been wary of the idea of marriage, as I have always feared that what happened to my parents, would happen to us, which is not what I want. But umm, I’ve realized that I never wanna lose you, ever. I cannot imagine a life without you with me. Also, what Sally said to me the other day, made me realize that you are indeed the right person for me.”

“Oh my- wow (y/n) so, are you saying that um, that umm you’d consider taking the next step?” he asked, hoping you’d say yes.

“Yes Harry.” you tucked a hair strand behind your hair, took his hand in yours and continued, “so Harry, I know this is probably not the place to say this, we’re in a friggin hospital” he chuckled as you smiled and continued, “but maybe, when time comes, and I’m hoping it comes soon enough, do you wanna consider maybe going further? Like, be together forever?”

“You have no idea how much I’ve waited for this.”

“Is that a yes?”

He just pulled you towards him in response and caressed your cheek, attaching his lips to yours. You kissed him back gladly, smiling into the kiss. He pulled away and stroked his finger on your hand, whispering a “yes”, a goofy grin on his face.

The End

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[anonil88]

Wandavision ep 8 liveblog

As usual spoiler warning as there will be spoilers below

They don't have to keep showing me vision dying at this point its torture pron and I do not appreciate it

Ah purple title card

Ah so people were right that she did come from Salem Massachusetts

Waittt she was persecuted by other witches?

Oh fuh she is dark magic versus the good magic aka the magic we see in Asgard

Oh damn her own mother had a part in.....ohhhh shit

That looks like it hurt but Agatha really cared so little

Aww bunny little cute little bunny

Ah her accent ngl I hate Marvel/Disney for washing all or most of their characters of their respective comic cultures.

So we are getting answers this episode.

Is he fake? Like fake fake?

Agatha is a big baddie who is going to teach Wanda like in the comics? Oh no she wants to steal her powers dammit.

She doesn't freaking know!

Fuckkk yeah wanda is going to mix this hoe when she is finally free. I mean:

Her parents 😥😥😥 this memory is not going to end well.

I forget Wanda is like a early 90s baby lmao I was off put by her parents being so young at first.

A DVD player? (Did some research she's about 10 which is 1998 and DVD players came out in 1997)

Fuck. Here we go reliving Wanda's trauma and her form of escapism and coping.

Accent change again!

Yep she didn't get her powers from like the initial powers from the experiments with the mind stone but everything else they did to her just made her stronger and stronger. "Which is like a oh trauma makes you strong but not really." Is this a nod to xmen? Are we getting an xmen push finally?

That's so cool she saw herself (well in comic theory it would be one of the past title holders of Scarlet Witch). This would make sense why she made up the fortune teller line.

Aw all the tv shows she watched as time went on to cope 😭, then she shared her happy place with Vision while grieving her brother 😭, and then she made another happy place with him to grieve his loss 😭.

Monica said that same line about grief being a wave which she wasn't wrong. I really hope they become friends. They both could use a friend.

Yea Agatha I would shed a tear too these two are too cute. The way she looks at him is so sweet.

Agatha is breaking her through her grief by force but to gain knowledge on the source of Wanda's powers. But she could also be trying to figure out the source so that she can manipulate her and use her. Like everyone else does.

Her accent is slipping like mother man.

OH? So they let her in? Huh? Then again I'm personally not fighting Wanda one on one at the fuck all.

This fucker knew the entire time WTAF and made her watch her partner be disabled huh?

Hayward you are a piece of shit, reducing this being to pieces of vibranium and computer parts to the woman who loves him! 🤬

Oh wanda oh baby nooo and she left sad. Then this mother fucker has the audacity and nerve to use this footage to pit innocent people and the likes of s.w.o.r.d against her? He used her likeness completely out of context.

Ayy that Marvel x Cadillac deal is strong haha.

....omg noooo he was building a house for them 😭 .

So her vision is a completely separate being from actual vision because she doesn't have his corpse.

Omg she finished their house for them 😭

She really did create a new vision, ha thats a double meaning.

He is her grief manifested as is the entirety of the her. The hex and her kids but she quite literally made a new vision and her boys they are real too.

The boys!!

Let go of those babies neow!!!

Oh fuck you Agnes, Agatha, whatever the fuck. Her costume does go hard as heck though.

I like a good costume sue me.

FINALLY SHE GETS HER NAME AYYY. So we are getting nexus being and that whole Scarlet Witch sacovia thing, maybe just maybe Disney marvel will ret-con the things they have done wrong?

End Credit Scene

WHITE VISION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh he is a dick in the comics but he does get better.

Wait are they gonna have vision 2.0 kill white vision or vice versa?

[steamedlem0ns]

Adventures in Goth Sitting: Chapter 1

Bucky X Original Chubby Female Character, Nickname: Morticia

Word Count: ~1400

Warnings: cursing, soul sucking, general buffoonery, Bucky being a sweet shit, discussion of cannabis use (future chapters to include angst, love, canon compliant gore, occult activity, sex, dom/sub relationships, breeding (no pregnancy involved), and more.)

Rating: PG-13 (each additional chapter will be XRated )

Part two:

Author’s Note: Hi! Thanks for stopping by and I really hope you enjoy the first chapter of this fic. I’ve got some big things planned and I just really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing it.

Rule 1: Your Goth requires darkness or shade, at all times. Bright, hot spaces are to be avoided without explicit permission.

You could cook an egg on the sidewalk. I was half tempted to at this point. My entire body was sticky and covered in a layer of sweat thicker than I’d ever been covered in before. My dress stuck to my body uncomfortably and I knew I was going to have chaffing on my calves from these boots.

“You better have a good goddamn reason for bringing me out here, Barnes.” I snapped.

Bucky was ahead of me cutting through a line of ivy to clear a path. I saw his back curl in a chuckle.

We’d had this discussion. When Natasha left for missions, I was his to watch. Couldn’t be trusted on my own apparently. You suck the literal soul out of a skeeze for touching you inappropriately once out on the streets and suddenly you need a court mandated babysitter. Bullshit.

I’d much rather be in my cozy nest in my room, Watching Simpsons and smoking several bowls. Maybe I’d pop some popcorn and order Thai for dinner. Treat myself to a nice relaxing afternoon. But, no. I’m stuck out in the middle of bum fuck Egypt for no apparent reason with the closest thing in existence (to my knowledge) to an incubus. The man was six foot five inches of pure sex and just radiated big dick energy.

Currently though, fuck him. Not in the good way.

“The stop is just up here, Morticia. You bring your bathing suit like I told you to?” Condescension dripped off his voice like honey. I motioned to the pack on my back with an eye roll, thankfully hidden by my sunglasses and hat.

I followed him up the hill and through the thicket of fully green trees. The terrain began to level out and we approached what looked like a cliff.

“Absolutely, fucking not Barnes. Did you really bring me out here to jump to my death? Ready to get rid of me, already?”

I knew he wasn’t my biggest fan, in fact, that was the reason Natasha picked him as back up. She thought there’d be less of a chance of me using my “wiles” to get my way. I gently reminded her, I learned from the best.

Bucky stopped and smiled, propping his hands on his hips. I could see a thin layer of sweat on his brow and felt instantly jealous of that damn serum running through him.

“I brought you out here to let go. You’re too wound up. You either hole yourself up alone or seclude yourself in Nats room. She’s tired of it. Frankly, I’m tired of listening to her bitch. So, doll, you’re go behind that tree and change - gentleman’s honor, I won’t peek - and then, we’re gonna jump off this cliff, together.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled off my sunglasses. If men have one thing, they have the audacity.

“I’m not cliff jumping with you, you goat fucker.”

Oof. Too much. Bucky’s face twisted in this sick half smirk half scowl and he advanced on me. I stumbled backwards, catching a boot on a rock and fell back on my ass. My tailbone stung and I looked up, bleary eyed to see a very angry James Barnes staring at me. He kicked the rock out the way and laughed.

“Am I making you fall for me already, sweetheart?” He mocked. Bucky knelt and grabbed the front of my dress, yanking me up and leveling my eyes with his.

“Go get fucking changed. I won’t tell you again.” He let me go and I landed with a sharp thud. I watched stunned as he just walked away to the ledge again and stripped off his shirt. There was NO way he’d catch me staring. Not after that. The consistent ache between my legs told me that if I wasn’t careful, something bad was going to happen. I picked myself up and adjusted my now, stretched dress. There was a large, old tree nearby and I decided to use that as cover. Believing that Bucky would keep his eyes to himself felt so far away at this point. But, the shiver that thought sent up my spine made me immediately put that fantasy to rest. I changed quickly, pulling my boobs in the cups of the black bikini and sending a prayer to the gods they’d stay there. I tied up my top and bottoms and adjusted the back. The skimpy garment was a great choice at the time of purchase. I would have never thought I’d End up here.

A moment later I mustered the courage to leave my hiding spot. I stuffed my clothes into the bag and slipped on my flip flops.

“Put your bag by the Boulder on your right.”

Bucky called. He never looked over. I did as he said and walked to him. My Heart pounded against my ribs almost painfully. Bucky finally turned his gaze toward me. With a huff and s jaw tick he held out his flesh hand to me.

“You good, Buck?” I asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, I’m good.” He certainly wasn’t. But, I took his hand and we walked to the edge. I could see for miles. Endless green and blue sky, wonder and beauty for miles. Untainted majesty in the middle of New York.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years. Never found the right partner. So.” Bucky looked at you, “wanna jump with me, doll?”

I nodded way too many times. I gripped his hand tighter and he moved us to the edge.

“Okay, we’re going to back up seven steps and then when I say go, run. Don’t let go.”

We went flying, Through the air, like two of the strangest birds. No wings, no way to keep themselves up.

We crashed. Pummeling through the cold water together. I felt Buckys hand slip from my own as we went under. I was consumed. The impact jostled my senses and I struggled to gain stability under the water. As I thrashed, trying to force myself up I felt a hand grab my arm.

Bucky pulled me to the surface and we swam to shore. We both heaved and fought for our breaths for a few moments before raucous laughter broke out.

“You said you wouldn’t try to kill me.” I chided. He cackled. I tried desperately to catch my breath.

“Good?” Bucky asked. His voice sounded genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, ugh. Just, need to breathe.”

We sat like that for what felt like forever. Watching the sky and resting our lungs, we warmed beneath the sun. After a few moments, I pulled myself up and sat cross legged.

“Why’d you agree to do this?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Why did you agree to be my “escort” when Natasha isn’t around?” I asked him again. After months I still hadn’t figured that out. Usually, he stayed as far away from me as possible, even when he was supposed to be with me. I would walk into a room and he would leave. It’s not like he ever went far, I could always feel his eyes burning into me - but, he never made the effort to even stay around me.

“I know what it’s like to lose control. I’ve been unfair to you, honestly. I know you think I hate you, doll, but I don’t. I’ve been in therapy for a bit…” I turned to look at Bucky as he continued, “working on myself. Figured out that I was projecting my own fears onto you. Some shit my therapist said anyway. You can’t be expected to take shit from people for all your life and never fight back. I didn’t see some soul eating witch and I don’t. I see a woman who is tired of being treated like dirt and she fought back. She just happens to be able to eat souls.”

The tears formed quick, They burnt hot like betrayal in my eyes. I was so wrong about him. God, I was wrong.

I reached my hand over and covered his metal one with my own flesh fingers.

“Thanks, Mr. Roboto.”

Amendment to Rule Number One: when gothsitting in the heat, consider water. Results will vary.

[sonicgetsrawed]

Everyday Can Be Like Christmas as Long as I Have You

This is a very late Christmas in July one shot featuring the boys!!! Enjoy!!!

Hugo groaned as the sunlight streamed through the window to his bedroom, the bedroom that he now shared with his boyfriend. Just thinking about how Varian was his boyfriend put a stupid smile on his face. It had almost been six months since their journey across the seven kingdoms and he couldn’t be happier, well he could if it wasn’t the middle of fucking summer and their bedroom just so happened to be in the hottest fucking corner of the castle. He couldn’t even sleep with a blanket, hell, he couldn’t even cuddle with Varian, he was like a fucking furnace himself, and it really put him in a shitty mood. After all that they’d been through was it so wrong for him to just want to cuddle his boyfriend? The sun apparently thought so. The curtains were thrown open, the sun blasting him with its full force. Sun above did it have to be so fucking bright?

“Good morning, babe!” Came Varian’s chipper voice, it was far too peppy for the godawful hour it had to be. He must have actually slept for once, good for him, Hugo couldn’t relate.

Hugo groaned in response, pulling Varian’s pillow over his face in a vain attempt at blocking out the sun.

“Time to get up! I’ve got a big day planned for us!” Varian said, ripping the pillow away from Hugo.

“So do I. It’s called sleeping in.” Hugo said, moving his own pillow over his face. He felt the bed shift as Varian climbed onto it. What he wasn’t expecting was for it to continue moving as Varian jumped up and down on it.

“Get up. Get up. Come on, get up. Hugo, are you up yet? Come on.” Varian repeated as he continued jumping.

Hugo groaned again, giving up as he swung his pillow at Varian. “Fine. I’m up. I’m up.”

“Great!” Varian said, handing Hugo his glasses and a cup of what he assumed was coffee as he settled next to him, pulling Hugo into a sitting position before wrapping his arms around Hugo’s middle and resting his head on his shoulder.

“So what’s your big plan?” Hugo asked, taking a sip from the drink, pulling back immediately as the taste of chocolate settled on his tongue. “Is this hot chocolate?”

“Yup.” Varian answered, a wide smile on his face.

“Why?”

“Why not?” Varian said, and Hugo could practically hear him wiggle his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to retort, but Varian cut him off. “So, you know how last night we were talking about Christmas?”

“Yeah?” Hugo said, confusion lacing his voice, not understanding what that had to do with the hot chocolate in his cup.

“And you said you’d never had a proper Christmas?” Varian continued, moving so he was now facing Hugo.

“And?” Hugo asked, drawing out the word.

“Well, I thought we could celebrate today! Surprise!” Varian finished, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Hugo blinked rapidly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Babe, it’s the middle of fucking summer.”

“I know, but just- just trust me okay?” Varian said, the same wide bucktooth smile on his face like when he had a particularly exciting breakthrough. And really how could Hugo say no to that face.

Hugo sighed, taking another sip of the hot chocolate as he nodded. “Okay. I’ll trust you, I’ll always trust you.”

Varian’s smile turned soft, leaning into Hugo’s touch as he cupped his face. “And I’ll always trust you.” Varian said before claiming Hugo’s lips in a soft kiss, the taste of chocolate still on his tongue and something lingering on Varian’s lips that made his almost tingly. Peppermint maybe. Whatever it was, Hugo decided he quite liked it, expertly moving his cup to the bedside table before snaking his now free hand around Varian’s waist, the other supporting Varian’s head as he fully intended to lay him down on the mattress and just devour his boyfriend. Varian seemed to know exactly what he was doing, pulling back and poking his chest with an accusing finger. “No, I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work.”

“But, babe.” Hugo whined, moving to place kisses along Varian’s neck, his lips teasingly lingering over the sensitive spot that he knew drove Varian mad.

“No.” Varian said a bit more forcefully, pushing Hugo back and fixing him with a glare that would’ve been a lot more menacing if it wasn’t for the way the corners of his lips twitched as he fought back a smile. “Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen in ten.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Hugo said with a playful roll of his eyes, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to weasel out of whatever scheme Varian had planned for the day. And with one last chaste kiss Varian left Hugo alone to prepare for the eventful day.

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

Hugo arrived in the kitchen thirty minutes later. Sure he was twenty minutes late, but it was his day off, he wasn’t going to rush and on top of that Varian made some damn good hot chocolate. Hugo let out a yawn as he scrubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes and pushed the door open.

“Merry Christmas!” Rapunzel yelled, her brown hair tucked under a chef's hat, the green of her dress peeking out from under her frilly pink apron, flour covering the freckles on her cheeks and a rolling pin in her hand. She threw some flour into the air before grabbing Hugo’s hands and pulling him over to the counter. Varian laughed from behind his hand, wearing a chef's jacket two sizes too big, flour on his face and hair, Rapunzel must have done the same to him. “So I thought we could start with my favorite Christmas activity, making gingerbread cookies!”

“Well we actually already made them, but we are going to decorate them!” Varian said, gesturing to the array of frostings and candies and of course cookies on the counter.

“And then we’re going to eat them!” Rapunzel added, bouncing excitedly on her feet.

“Why can’t we just eat them now?” Hugo asked, snatching one of the gingerbread men off the plate. He eyed it curiously, he’d always seen them in shop windows during the winters, but never actually had one. He’d never understood the fascination with them, sure when he was younger he’d always wanted one, but Donella always said they had more important things to do, more important things to spend money on.

“The point isn’t about eating the cookies, it’s about the memories we make by spending time together decorating them and having fun.” Rapunzel explained, snatching the cookie out of Hugo’s hand before he could take a bite.

“That’s what Christmas is all about. Spending time with the ones you love.” Varian said, placing a kiss to Hugo’s cheek. “Now I’ve got to go, but you two have fun!”

“Wait-“ Hugo reached for Varian’s hand but he was already by the exit, waving at Hugo as he headed out the door. And then he was gone, leaving Hugo alone with Rapunzel, and wasn’t that contradictory to what Varian had said, Christmas was about spending time with those you love and there was no one he loved more than Varian.

“Okay, so I like to start like this-“ Rapunzel explained, picking up a cookie and some icing, Hugo vaguely paying attention as she went about decorating her cookie before getting to work on his own.

After about ten minutes, and about twenty fucked up cookies on Hugo’s part, they opted to just eat the cookies. Now, an hour later Rapunzel was draped across the table, shoveling spoonfuls of icing into her mouth, Hugo laying across from her eating cookie after cookie as they talked.

“And then, Eugene says ‘Sunshine,” Rapunzel said, deepening her voice in a poor imitation of her husband, Hugo not even bothering to hide his laughter as she shoved another spoonful of icing into her mouth before continuing. “‘That’s too much glitter, don’t you think?’ Can you believe that? Too much glitter.”

“The fucking audacity! You can never have too much glitter.” Hugo said, shoveling his own spoonful of icing into his mouth. He felt like he might actually be sick if he had anymore sugar but that didn’t stop him from following up with yet another cookie. If he had to wait another six months for these delicious fuckers he was going to make the most of it.

“Right?! That’s what I said!” Rapunzel agreed, waving her spoon through the air.

“You should dump him.” Hugo deadpanned, pulling his spoon out of his mouth with a pop.

Rapunzel frowned, propping herself up on her elbows. “We’re married.” Rapunzel said, Hugo simply shrugging in response. Rapunzel bursting out in laughter and laying back down, a wide smile on her face. “You know, we should do this more often. It’s been fun.”

Hugo returned the smile with a small nod. “Yeah, it was.”

“I’m so glad!” Came Varian’s voice, Hugo jumping at the sound and scrambling to his feet as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. He supposed old habits die hard. Varian bounded over, grease now replacing the flour that had been on his cheeks. Hugo gently used his thumb to scrub at the grease, smearing it more than removing it, Varian’s nose scrunched up at the action. “Ready for our next stop?”

“Lead the way, Goggles.” Hugo said, taking Varian’s hand in his, placing a kiss to the back of it and letting him lead the way to their next destination.

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

Hugo stared up at the library doors. Of all the places he expected them to go it certainly wasn’t here. As much as he loved the library it wasn’t where he wanted to spend his day off. “Var-“

“Trust me.” Varian said, placing a finger over Hugo’s lips before he could continue, likely knowing what Hugo was going to say. Varian smiled widely as he pushed open the doors to the library.

“Merry Christmas, kid!” Eugene said, blowing a handful of confetti into Hugo’s face. Hugo swatted at the assaulting pieces of paper, although his annoyance didn’t last long as he took in the rest of the library. Garland and tinsel draped on the shelves, sparkling in the sunlight. At the center of the library was a large tree, it obviously wasn’t a Christmas tree, but it was trimmed in ornaments and tinsel all the same, presents sitting at the bottom.

“Sorry we couldn’t get an actual Christmas tree, but we did the best we could with such short notice.” Varian said, swinging their hands back and forth.

“It’s perfect.” Hugo responded, cupping Varian’s face fully intending to kiss his boyfriend senseless when Eugene cleared his throat.

“Yeah, hi, still here.” Eugene said with a small wave.

Varian laughed as he settled for a quick peck to Hugo’s lips. “And I should not still be here. I’ve got to finish your present. Speaking of~” Varian moved his hands in a little circle as he pulled out of Hugo’s grip and headed towards the door.

“Right.” Eugene said with a wink, slinging an arm around Hugo’s shoulder and leading him towards the tree. “So, my favorite part of Christmas, the presents!”

“Of course that would be your favorite part about Christmas.” Hugo said with a roll of his eyes, shrugging Eugene’s arm off. They were definitely on more amicable terms now, but he still wouldn’t call them friends.

“Ah, you misunderstand, it’s not about getting a gift it’s all about giving a gift.” Eugene said, sitting them down in front of the tree, pulling a wrapped package out from underneath. “Unfortunately, given the rude awakening at three this morning we weren’t really given time to prepare actual gifts, so this bitch empty.”

Hugo raised an eyebrow as Eugene tossed the box over his shoulder, choosing to ignore the present and focusing on that fact that Varian had apparently been up since three am. “Did he sleep at all?”

“Highly unlikely.” Eugene answered. “Anyways~ since I don’t have a physical gift, you will have to settle for a nugget of good ol Fitzherbert wisdom.”

“Oh, goodie.” Hugo said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, fiddling with a ribbon on a nearby present.

Eugene scooted closer, placing a hand on Hugo’s shoulder, Hugo glancing up at him over the top of his glasses. “Listen, kid, I know you did some shitty stuff, but you need to remember that you are worthy of forgiveness, you are worthy of love. Just because you fucked up doesn’t change that.”

Hugo swallowed thickly, his eyes darting down to the present. “I know, I’m working towards that, to re earn everyone’s trust, to re earn Varian’s.”

“And that’s great, but I’m not talking about everyone else.” Eugene said, giving Hugo’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, Hugo reluctantly meeting Eugene’s eyes. “You need to forgive yourself first, anyone else who’s worth a damn will follow.”

“I’m trying.” Hugo admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. As much as he loved his time with Varian, he couldn’t help the occasional surge of guilt that plagued him more often than he’d like to admit. He was really trying, more so for Varian than himself, but he was trying nonetheless.

“I know. Now come here, let’s hug it out.” Eugene pulled Hugo into a hug, the later stiffening in his grip. Normally he would’ve pushed Eugene away, but what the hell, it was Christmas, so Hugo returned the hug, surprising himself with how easily he relaxed into it.

“Aw, group hug!” A voice boomed across the library, a pair of strong arms lifting the two males off the ground, and there were only two people he knew with that kind of upper body strength, Rapunzel and-

“Lance.” Eugene whined, squirming in Lance’s grip. “Please, set us down.”

“Oops, sorry.” Lance said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Great, now that you’re here I’m going to go find Varian.” Hugo said, smoothing down his now wrinkled clothes.

“Not so fast, little man’s man, it’s my turn to show you how we celebrate Christmas in the Schnitz family.” Lance said, grabbing Hugo’s arm before he could escape. “First activity, caroling~”

“Nope.” Hugo responded, pulling his arm free and heading towards the door. He’d much rather hug Eugene again then go caroling of all things, that’s where he drew the line.

Lance cut him off, his eyes wide and hands clasped together in front of his chest. “Please, I’m begging you. I need a distraction! Kiera’s on a date and Catalina is spying on her for me. I cannot be left alone right now, I cannot.”

“Fine.” Hugo groaned, dragging a hand down his face, already regretting his decision, but if he was honest with himself he couldn’t say no to Lance, not really. Lance was the one out of all of Varian’s friends he got along with right away, he was the one that understood him, the one that never made Hugo feel like he didn’t belong, like he wasn’t good enough. Lance had struggled turning over a new leaf at first and in all honesty so had Hugo. He couldn’t count the number of times he almost left in the dead of night, thinking it was best for Varian, and the one time he actually did, he’d be long gone too if Lance hadn’t caught him and talked him out of it. He owed a lot to Lance, so if caroling made him happy then Hugo could suffer for a bit. Besides, how bad could it be?

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

The answer was bad, very bad, apparently. Hugo was sandwiched between the two older males as they belted Christmas carols very loudly and very offkey. His ears would be ringing for the next week and a half. He hadn’t even bothered singing himself, and the two idiots that flanked him were too absorbed in their own renditions to notice.

“And scene!” Lance said with a bow, pulling Hugo and Eugene down with him. The silence that followed soon filled by the sound of clapping.

“That was… lovely.” Arianna said, her voice soft and kind, but her scrunched up nose told a different story than her words.

“Why thank you! We’ve been practicing so we can knock 'em dead at the winter ball this year.” Eugene said, his chest puffed with pride.

“And I’m sure you’ll do just that.” Arianna responded, offering her hand to Hugo as the other two processed her words. “Come, dear, it’s time for your next surprise.”

Hugo gratefully took her hand, snickering as Lance and Eugene tried to make heads or tails of Arianna’s comment.

“Was that a jab?” Eugene asked, his voice carrying through the room as Hugo and the queen scurried towards the door.

“I think it was a jab.” Lance confirmed, sounding just as perplexed as Eugene.

As soon as the door closed, Hugo burst into laughter, linking his arm with the queen’s. “Well played, your majesty.”

Arianna laughed, patting Hugo’s hand. “Thank you, but I do hope the boys aren’t too offended.”

“They’ll live.” Hugo said, letting Arianna lead them through the halls. It had always struck him as strange that he got along so well with the queen given she was royalty, and royalty was the bane of his existence, but for some reason they just clicked.

“Let’s get into something more suitable for the weather.” Arianna said with a wink.

Hugo glanced down at his outfit, just a simple tank top and his pajama bottoms, he hadn’t even bothered to put on shoes. It was so fucking hot outside, how much more suitable could he dress?

“Just trust me on this.” Arianna said before Hugo could even ask, she always had a way of knowing things as simple and obvious as those things were sometimes. Hugo simply nodded, easily following Arianna through the halls.

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

If anyone else had tried to stuff him into his winter coat and boots in the middle of the summer, he’d have told them they were out of their goddamn mind. But since it was Arianna he decided to have a little more tact. “And why the fuck am I wearing this?”

“Language.” Arianna reprimanded, fixing Hugo with a glare as she adjusted the hat on his head. “You’re going to be thanking me in a few minutes.”

“Am I though?” Hugo teased, pushing the hat back a bit.

“Yes.” Arianna responded, lightly smacking his arm. Hugo threw his head back in a laugh, retaking her arm as she led them to the doors to the garden, not even giving him a chance to question before she swung the doors open.

“Merry Christmas!” Varian shouted, and Hugo’s jaw dropped. The ground was coated in snow, well it was more slush than actual snow, but it white and it was cold. Two large metal machines sat on opposite sides of the garden spouting the white stuff. Ruddiger in his own set of gloves and goggles, occasionally hitting a button that Hugo assumed controlled the machines. Varian’s nose pink from the chill in the air, the pesky grease stains still on his cheeks, his scarf hanging loosely around his neck, his too big coat swallowing him, and his hair pushed back held in place only by his goggles, that adorable lopsided bucktooth smile on his face. By all means he looked like a fucking mess, but to Hugo he looked like a goddamn angel.

Hugo turned to Arianna, placing a kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you.” Arianna smiled in return, closing the doors as Hugo ran, more so stumbled towards Varian. He wrapped his arms around the smaller as soon as he was able, kissing Varian’s pink nose as he laughed. “You did all this?”

“Yeah. I wanted you to have the best Christmas ever, I couldn’t leave out your favorite part.” Varian said, snuggling into Hugo’s chest and wrapping his arms around him as well. It was stupid that snow was his favorite part of Christmas, but it had been the only true way for Hugo to know that it was in fact Christmas time. He’d never gotten the presents, or to sit by the Christmas tree, or to go caroling, or make cookies. But the snow had always been there, and when everyone else had gone to sleep he’d go out into the snow and wish for that ever elusive Christmas miracle. He supposed he finally found it, here in Corona, in Varian’s arms.

“Thank you. I just- thank you.” Hugo said, resting his chin on top of Varian’s head, watching the snow fall around them as he held him tight, for the first time since the summer started relishing in the body heat Varian produced. It was beautiful, but he couldn’t help but wonder about one last thing. “Hey, sweet cheeks?”

Varian hummed in response, lifting his head so his chin now rested on Hugo’s chest, snow already catching in his eyelashes.

“We did everyone else’s favorite things, but what about yours?” Hugo asked, genuinely curious. For all the talk they did about Christmas, Varian had failed to mention his favorite part.

“This.” Varian answered, a softer smile on his face as he let out a small laugh. “Spending time with my friends, and family, and you. That’s my favorite part. None of the other stuff matters as long as I have that.”

“You are so sappy.” Hugo said, smiling down at Varian, cupping his face as he rested his forehead against his. His heart fluttered in his chest, they hadn’t said those words yet, not since the showdown at the library but he knew he felt it. He loved Varian with all that he was, he’d give everything and anything for him. And now that they’d grown, and healed, there wasn’t a better time. “I love you.”

Varian’s face went blank for a second as he blinked up at Hugo, and for a second he thought he wouldn’t return the sentiment. Then he smiled, laughing again as he rubbed their noses together. “I love you too.”

Hugo smiled widely, leaning down further to claim Varian’s lips, but Varian beat him to it, slamming their lips together as he tackled Hugo to the ground. It was rougher than he intended, but Hugo wouldn’t have it any other way. Hugo smiled all the way through the kiss, paying no mind to the artificial snow beneath them. And even though Christmas wasn’t technically for another six months, Hugo was certain that this would be the best Christmas he ever had.

[mego42]

while I was not specifically prompted, @foxmagpie posted a fic request that made my brain go hmmmmmmmm, so I went ahead and pretended it was a prompt for me because I do what I want.

i want to read a fic from rio’s POV of 2.10 when annie reached out to him both because i think annie trying to arrange a business proposition would be hilarious but also because i suspect that rio thought beth was either orchestrating things or that it would be a way to get her back and i wanna get in his head about it

can we meet

All in all, it's a pretty standard text. Rio could probably scroll through his phone and find at least 15 others at any given point. More if he didn't dump his phones every week or two. Even more if he didn't have Mick filtering most of the bullshit for him. 

But that's the thing, he does have Mick, which means when these kinds of texts make it all the way to him, he knows who they're from and what they want. The problem here is he doesn't know who the fuck this is or what they want or, most importantly, how the fuck they got this number. 

And that last part especially is a big enough fuckin' problem that he shuts his laptop and scoops up his phone, swiping through to call and see who it is. 

"Hello?"

He doesn't immediately recognize the voice that picks up, though it pings something. He waits, still not saying anything, figurin' he'll either place it, or they'll give themselves away. It's fuckin' unbelievable the kind of shit people will say if he just keeps his mouth shut and waits 'em out. 

"Is this…" The voice trails off, and he's right on the cusp of placin' it, can feel a face bubbling to the surface when it continues in a whisper. "Gang friend?"

The fuckin' sister. 

Rio's mouth snaps shut so hard it sends a pang through his jaw, and he's pretty sure she heard his teeth click together over the phone. 

There are motherfuckers who would kill—hell, who have killed—for his number, and here's this suburban bopper callin' him up like she can summon him or some shit. Like she has the right.

And isn't that just like Elizabeth, makin' her sister call? After her pretty little fuckin' speech, that prim, butter wouldn't melt it's over, leavin' his cut on the goddamn nightstand like he was some kind of hired help. 

His phone case creaks, giving slightly under the force of his grip, and he forces himself to relax. He leans back in his chair, drumming his fingers on his desk, tryin' to figure out how he wants to play this.  

He fuckin' knew it. 

He's not about to pretend the victory isn't at least a little sweet underneath the bitter rage just thinking 'bout their stalemate brings to the surface. He knew Elizabeth wasn't gonna walk away. She couldn't, she didn't have it in her. 

It isn't enough, though, knowing he was right. It's barely a dent, a scratch, a fuckin' scuff in the debt she owes him, the mountain of shit he's gonna make her pay for.

"Hello?"

He hasn't said anything yet, and it's makin' the sister antsy, he can tell. There's a static, scratching noise, and he realizes she's put her thumb over the speaker or something because he can hear what she says next, but it's muffled. 

"Are you sure this is the right number?"

Something in him bottoms out—he's not exactly tryin' too hard to identify what. The bright, bitter flair of satisfaction's gone as quickly as it came, leaving a dark, hollow space behind. 

The sister's actin' out then, going rogue. Elizabeth knows damn well what his number is. She hasn't exactly been too shy 'bout usin' it whenever she needs a payday loan. Or other services for that fuckin' matter. 

He can't help but laugh at that, but it's a harsh, biting sound. The audacity must be genetic. 

"Okay, now I know you're there. Stop being a dick."

He should hang the fuck up, now that he knows who it is. Hang up, block the number, forget all about that bitch and the sister. It's probably the smartest thing to do, all told. 

Except. Except she fuckin' owes him, and Rio hasn't gotten to the top by letting debts go unanswered. 

"What?" He asks, giving the t an edge sharp enough to cut. 

There's a pause. "What like you didn't hear me, or what like what do I want?"

Rio adjusts a potted bromeliad's alignment on the corner of his desk, running a finger along the edge of one of the tall, spikey leaves. Mick had dropped it on his desk one day with no fanfare, only snide commentary about Rio needing to take a vacation, and maybe this'll get him thinkin' 'bout it.

The annoying part is, it's not like the disrespectful fucker's wrong. Rio knows damn well he's let himself get far too twisted up in Elizabeth's bullshit. Offerin' to deal with her problems, lettin' her get away with all kinds of amateur hour bullshit like bringing her fuckin' kids on drops. He never should've let her strong-arm him into cuttin' her in. It's not like she's the first person to try, should've dealt with her like he would anyone else, string her up and don't give her the option to not tell him where his shit is. 

Hell, further back than that, he never should've followed her into that motherfuckin' bathroom. Should've kept it business, should've never found out how soft those miles of pale skin really are, how far that delicate pink flush can spread, how unexpectedly dark and rich she tastes.

Disgusted with himself, he shoves up out of his chair, pacing around the tiny, concrete floors of the control room currently serving as his office in long, loping strides.

He should take a week. Tie things up, take Marcus to Disneyland, or some shit. Get some fuckin' distance. Perspective. 

"Hello?"

Now the sister sounds like she's getting annoyed, and Rio's really gotta do somethin' about the two of them runnin' 'round actin' like he's someone they can get away with not takin' seriously. Like he's some sort of pet. Defanged. Declawed. Fuckin' neutered. 

"Get to the point."

"I mean, I kind of did in the message." 

Rio can hear some kind of groan or somethin' from the background. Probably the friend. She was the only one of the three of them who ever seemed to really get what kind of waters they were swimming in. How deep they were and what kind of monsters lurked beneath the surface.

"Yeah, that ain't really how we do things."

"I know, I...look—" He has to yank the phone away from his ear when she sighs, loud as shit, right into it. "Something...I mean, um. I know Beth quit, but, uh…"

He tunes her out, the way she's going, she'll be stutterin' her way around to her point about a half an hour from now. 

She wants a fuckin' favor, a hookup. They always do. Not just these bitches but everyone. Once you're at the top, all people want is a piece; it's only a matter of whether or not they're gonna beg for it or try to take it. Every now and then, they try to earn it. 

It’s one of the things he'd liked best about Elizabeth from the jump. Yeah, sure, she was arrogant as shit, struttin' 'round in those heels like she understood the rules the world played by. Like she could twist anything and everything' round her pretty little fingers and get away with whatever the fuck she wanted as long as she batted those big, blue eyes just right. 

But she was willin' to work for it. She might’ve expected to be awarded a piece just because she worked hard and that was the fair exchange for her effort. And isn’t that a trip? The idea of livin’ in a world where fair meant somethin’. Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t gonna get down in the dirt and scrap for it. 

Her problem is—well, one of 'em, he doesn't even have enough warehouses to house 'em all—she looked out at her tidy little garden and thought that was the dirt. She didn't want to accept there's a whole other subterranean playing field underneath all of that. 

He'd seen it though, the thing with teeth and claws she had locked up inside her. It'd come out in flashes and splinters, peaking through the bars of the cage she kept it in, eyes flashing, tail lashing, and he couldn't help it, the urge to see what would happen if he pulled its tail. Let it loose. 

Rio stops pacing, coming to a halt in front of one of the huge paneled windows in the exterior wall of his office, leaning up against the edge and looking out. The panes are dingy, giving his view of the Michigan winter sky a bleak, barren cast. Not that it needed any more of one. This warehouse sits on the edge of a train yard, the miles of rust and concrete below reaching out towards the horizon. All grey and dirty red, broken up by the occasional patch of strangled grass or vibrant streaks of neon tags left behind to defiantly mark the artists’ passing. 

"...I guess what I'm saying is, you know, you still have options in this, um, market. If you catch my drift. I'm hoping that we can figure a way to continue this mutually beneficial arrangement…"

The sister's still going, so he ticks through his options. 

He'd have preferred Elizabeth came crawling back all on her own. That'd be ideal. He hadn't decided yet if he'd initially shut her out, make her work for reentry, and then make her pay, or go straight to the main event. It would've depended on the circumstances, what was most advantageous at the time. All good plans are flexible. He’s learned the hard way to always take contingencies into account. 

She would've, though. Come crawling back. It was only a matter of time. She's had a taste now, she'd let herself go just enough, she wasn’t gonna be able to pack herself back away in that soul-sucking suburban box of a house, of a life. Not for long.

Beyond that, there was the money. She might've thought she had enough, but four kids, three mortgages, and a moron with a talent for squandering every last thing he's given? That's a lot of financial upkeep. 

'Sides, even if she thought she was in the black, he was still keepin' tabs on all of them—it wasn't even personal, just good business, they were too new, too green, too unpredictable to go without the extra surveillance—and he knew that wasn’t the case across the board. Elizabeth might've been in an okay spot for now, but the sister and the friend sure as shit were not, and if there's one way to get Elizabeth to jump, it's come through her people. 

And on the off chance that all of that failed to come to fruition—always a possibility, she's stubborn as shit and not above gettin' into some kind of dumbass, fucked up mess to keep from backin' down—he's got his little landfill insurance policy tucked away on ice if he ever needs to really force her hand. 

"So, what do you say?" The sister‘s finally run out of steam.

Rio runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip and tucks it in his cheek. 

Now that he’s really thinkin’ about it, this might actually be a better option than any of the ones already on the table. There's no way the sister and the friend are gonna pull some shit all the way off, not on their own. He knows how to read a room, it’s been the thing that’s kept him alive more than once, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt, the two of them aren’t half as effective on their own. They don't have Elizabeth's steely determination, her gift for spinning bullshit into gold. Not only that but there’s too much friction there. They need Elizabeth to grease their wheels. He can toss 'em some piddly shit that don't matter and let 'em get tangled up. Give 'em enough rope and all of that.

And hey, it's not like he came after her—them. If anything, he's tryin' to help. He’s givin’ them the same opportunity to earn some money, build their own side hustle. He's practically the good guy here.

The thought makes him laugh, this time like it's actually funny.

"Okay, well, thanks for that. You know, you don't have to be rude. I just thought—"

"Park. 2 pm."

"What? Oh! Seriously? Okay, great. Wow, that is...phew. That is a load off, you don't even kno—"

Rio cuts her off, locking his phone and tucking it back in his pocket, then tapping his fist against the window. 

Three seagulls are down in the warehouse parking lot fighting over scraps of something. Even all the way up here, he can hear 'em cawing, screamin', tearin' into each other for the same piece of the pie. After a minute, one of ‘em rips whatever it is away from the other two, swallows it and takes off. The others follow a beat behind, and he watches the three of ‘em fly directly overhead until the building obscure his view. 

Either Elizabeth'll come to him, or this will give him a new string to tug, somethin' he can use to yank her right back under his thumb. He'll get her right back where he wants her and then he'll— He'll—

Well. He'll just have to see. 

[rapperkookz]

broadcasted | jhs | fluff, slight angst

summary: after a fight with your boyfriend, you suck up your pride and try to apologize to him, if only he would stop giving you the silent treatment.

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 2.6k ________________________________________________

Your POV

It took a lot to get your boyfriend angry. Understandably so, he was the embodiment of sunshine, an angel sent from heaven above. You know when he called your name, all looks of love and kindness in his eyes gone, did you fuck up badly.

In your defense, it wasn’t your fault. You both went to a university where money meant status, so when a friend of yours had the audacity to look down upon Hoseok because of his lack of wealth in comparison to the two of you, long story short: you went batshit ruthless. 

You could recall the situation vividly, the memory only two days ago and still a fresh wound causing a strain in your relationship with Hoseok.

~

“Why do you keep checking your phone? Hoseok hasn’t texted you back yet?”

You nodded, a pout playing on your lips as you rested your head on your palm, “He has a big exam for his philosophy class that he was worrying about, I wonder how it went.”

“I guess he has to study hard huh? Sucks to actually have to work just so he can survive after university.” Your friend quipped backhandedly. You furrowed your eyebrows, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying y/n. We have trust funds and inheritance from our families, even if we fail all our classes, we’re already set for life. Hoseok has to actually study and work hard to keep his scholarship here and somehow get a good paying job after we graduate. I don’t know why you’re dating him of all people in his friend group.” 

“Why are you saying him like he’s less than us? I never thought I deserved better than Hoseok, Yoo Jeongyeon. Take it back right now.” You said offended. Jeongyeon only shrugged, “I mean, he is less than us y/n. He won’t amount to anything close to what we will end up doing in the future.”

“Hoseok may not come from our background, but at least his family isn’t full of cheaters and filthy tax evaders, you ignorant bitch.” You practically snarled at your so-called friend, “And who are you to talk to me about my relationship and who I date? You can’t even keep a boyfriend for more than a month, why huh? Cheating runs in your blood?”

At this point, the crowd of students around your table were giving the two of you looks, whispering no doubt about your argument. Family matters were a sensitive topic for everyone, especially those of you with a high-ranking lineage. Anything said can be used as an attack and can ruin reputation with a snap of a finger. Jeongyeon looked around embarrassed, unsure of what to say in response to your words. She scoffed after a few seconds, “You’re right. My family is full of cheaters, but in the end you probably will do the same once you realize that Hoseok isn’t good enough for you. Let’s be real, he’s only using you for your money-”

You couldn’t help yourself at this point, immediately reaching forward and taking a fistful of her hair, the girl yelping in surprise. You were beyond angry at this point, your blood boiling. You tugged harshly, “Take it back, you have no fucking right to-”

“y/n stop!” Your boyfriend said shocked as he and one of his friends, Namjoon, came into view, quickly separating the two of you. “Jeongyeon, are you okay?”

“Don’t fucking talk to her Hoseok, she’s a two-headed snake, that bitch-”

“I’ll fucking sue you, y/n!”

“Do it! Talk to my fucking lawyer. Can’t promise you’ll get what you want since your family’s dealing with your father’s sexual assault lawsuit, right?” You said with a mean smirk, unphased as Jeongyeon’s eyes started to water. Hoseok gripped your hand, “that’s enough, y/n.”

You were still fuming as Hoseok pulled you away from the scene, telling Namjoon that he would catch up with him later, as Hoseok led you to his car so that you two could talk without ears listening in. “Seok, why did you stop me? Jeongyeon was talking shit and badmouthing you right to my face-”

“That doesn’t give you the permission to pull her hair out, y/n.” He said staring at the dashboard, trying to collect his thoughts. You couldn’t believe his lack of anger, why wasn’t he as mad as you?

“She fucking said you didn’t deserve me and that you wouldn’t amount to anything close to us after graduation, the fucking audacity-”

“She’s right,” He said cutting you off, much to your surprise, “I don’t deserve you and I probably won’t succeed as much as you would, the fact that you’re angry about it means you’re embarrassed. How did you manage to date me for this long if you were ashamed of our different wealth classes?”

“What?” You said in disbelief, “Jung Hoseok do you even know what you’re saying right now? I’m not ashamed or embarrassed of you! Our different backgrounds don’t mean anything to me at all—what, why are you angry at me? It was Jeongyeon who fucking started it!”

“You didn’t have to roast the living shit out of her because she insulted me. I thought you would have been the bigger person and that you don’t bring family matters into arguments. I’m just disappointed that I had to see you act like that.” He said pinching the bridge of his nose. You called his name, shocked at the emotionless gaze he gave you, one you’ve never seen before. You scoffed, opening the passenger door, “I can’t believe you’re mad at me right now. I’ll see you later, I’ll ask my chauffeur to drive me home.”

~

And that’s how you ended up here. It’s been two days since you’ve seen each other besides passing the grounds at university, both of you quickly averting eyes after a glance at the latter. You didn’t regret what you did or said to Jeongyeon, considering you were only defending your boyfriend and your relationship. Still, you couldn’t help but at least feel guilty towards Hoseok, and towards his disappointment in you. He wasn’t a fighter, peace and fairness was in his nature, so to see you get physical like that, you suppose he had every right to feel the way he did.

You tried calling and apologizing to him hours after the altercation, but were met with missed calls and messages left on read. Not going to lie, you were hurt, but he did nothing wrong, it was all on you to self reflect and bridge your relationship.

“Have you tried buying him dinner? What about that steakhouse we love?” Jimin asked as you sat with him and Yoongi in the eldest’s studio. You scoffed and threw your Apple pencil at the boy. “I’m not going to buy his forgiveness with money, Park. He’s not materialistic like you.”

“Maybe not, but he has rich taste like the rest of us. I know your boyfriend like the back of my hand y/n, I am his roommate after all.” Jimin said. You rolled your eyes, Jimin was how you and Hoseok met in the first place. You and the boy met as children, your parents being business partners—and by now, in-laws since your elder brother and his sister were married last year in order to merge companies and raise stock prices.

“Don’t listen to him, y/n.” Yoongi chuckled lightly hitting the back of Jimin’s head. “Hoseok’s just been thinking, he’s not actually mad at you. It’s just a bit hard for him to comprehend since he’s never been in a situation like this before.”

“I told him, Yoongi. I don’t care about his status or how wealthy his family is, I just care about...him.” You sulked, feeling frustrated with yourself. Yoongi gave you a sympathetic smile, “Don’t take this the wrong way y/n, we all know you don’t think of Hoseok any different like the rest of us. But he gets insecure and inferior, you don’t get any shit because you’re the one with a higher economic status. Hoseok gets the short end of the stick in situations like this. Now c’mon, we’re airing in three minutes.”

Yoongi was the dj for the most popular podcast on campus. Students from all majors listened in because of his impeccable music taste, blunt personality, and charming voice. You and the other boys in their friend group guest-starred often, Yoongi only letting his close friends join in on his fun every Thursday afternoon.

“So he’s mentioned me at least?” You whined at the two, the boys chuckling and conspiring amongst themselves much to your oblivion. You were starting to go crazy, missing Hoseok so much and craving to at least hear his voice.

---

“Huh? Yoongi hyung’s airing already? Isn’t it a bit early?” Jungkook said turning up the volume of the speaker as he, Namjoon, Seokjin, Taehyung, and Hoseok lounged around Seokjin’s living room.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Taehyung nodded in curiousity, “Aren’t Jimin-ie and y/n guests today?”

Hoseok nodded, of course he missed you like crazy too, but it was endearing to him whenever he read your texts of apology and listening to the guys tell their encounters with you over the past two days, making cute excuses to try and get him to notice you. “Just talk to y/n already, dumbass.” Seokjin remarked from the side. “You’re not doing either of you any good by ignoring ‘em, y/n apologized already too.”

“I know, I just think y/n’s cute when they’re pouty.” Hoseok grinned fondly.

“Hm? Wait everyone shut up-”

“Jimin please, tell Seok-ie that I’m sorry and that I’m self reflecting! I feel like I’m suffocating and Hoseok’s my air, I can’t breathe without him! Why are you two laughing—oh my God the light is on, are we live right now?! Min Yoongi I’m going to fucking kill you-”

“Alright everybody welcome to your weekly dose of D2, I’m DJ Suga as you all know, and we have two special guests today, my dear friends Jimin and y/n-ow! Stop hitting me!”

“Oooh,” Jungkook snickered as the four boys started teasing Hoseok, an embarrassed blush on your boyfriend’s cheeks at your accidental live confession.

--

“And that’s it for today’s podcast, my favorite fuckers. We’re closing off today with Missing You by BtoB because y/n misses Hoseok. Make up already please, I think I embarrassed y/n enough for a lifetime-”

“I will never forget you did this to me,”

“See you next time on D2 everyone! Have a good night, don’t max out your bank accounts, and remember, I’m single.” Jimin said flirtatiously as Yoongi cut off the mics and started playing the song. God you feel like you aged ten years after this thirty minute podcast, you had no doubt that Hoseok heard your confession, you were pretty sure everyone heard your confession. There wasn’t a single student you knew of that didn’t listen in to Yoongi’s podcast every week.

“I did you a favor y/n, c’mon. There’s no way Hoseok would keep ignoring you after that.” Yoongi said lightheartedly. You grimaced at him, running your hands through your hair in stress. Swiftly, Jimin grabbed your phone and bag, “You’re coming with us to Seokjin hyung’s, in-law. No backing out because I have your stuff, time to face your boyfriend.”

You tried retaliating but were urged to follow them to Yoongi’s car anyway, your desire to see your boyfriend trumping your humiliation. The ride from Yoongi’s studio to Seokjin’s hotel flew by, your mind coming up with all kinds of scenarios and preparing for the worst as you walked towards Seokjin’s hotel room.

“Ah here’s our favorite DJ,” Seokjin said excitedly as the three of you entered. “Gotta say, this week’s podcast was one of your best ones Yoongi.”

You shot the eldest a look, glancing at the rest of the bodies that were dispersed in the living room. Immediately you met eyes with your boyfriend, body freezing as you stuttered and excused yourself to the bathroom.

“Go get ‘em tiger,” Jimin snickered as he patted Hoseok on the back, the boy grinning as he walked in the direction you went off. Seokjin crossed his arms, “Just don’t fuck in my bathroom, please—actually, if you do, just let me fucking know so I can get the cleaners to disinfect that place.”

“If I hear one thud from the bathroom, I’m blasting some cursed Wii music, I hope you know that hyung!” Jungkook yelled.

You splashed your face, hoping the cold water would bring down your body temperature and rid your flushed cheeks. You flinched as a knock sounded on the door, “y/n, can I come in?”

“I-uh yeah, it’s unlocked.” You said shyly as Hoseok entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You refused to meet his gaze, eyes downcast on the marble flooring as he put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the door. You didn’t need to look at him to know he looked incredibly attractive right now. “I’m your air, huh baby?”

You cringed, bringing your hands up to cover your face. Hoseok let out a laugh, his voice sweet and melodic to your ears, your stomach doing somersaults at his mere presence. The boy gently took your hands, revealing your face to him, “I’m sorry for ignoring you baby,”

“Why are you saying sorry?” You muttered finally gathering the courage to look him in the eyes, “I was the one that disappointed you Seok,”

“I know you did all that to defend us, y/n. I don’t blame you for lashing out at Jeongyeon,” He said softly as he cupped one of your cheeks, instantly nuzzling into his warm palm. “Thank you baby,”

You pouted and wrapped your arms around his waist as he pulled you in for a hug. You felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders as he buried his face in your hair. God how you missed his scent. “I know I said it all in my texts Seok-ie, but I hope you do know that I’m so happy to be yours. I mean it when I say that I don’t give a fuck about your status and that I’m not at all ashamed to be dating you.”

“I know, y/n.” He said pressing a kiss to your crown, “I can’t help but get insecure sometimes because you really are too good for me-”

“shut up,” You denied tilting your head up to peck his lips. “I am not, if anything it’s the other way around. I can’t believe you really didn’t text me for two days, I was going crazy over here.”

“I was too,” He retorted rubbing your sides, “I was going to text you yesterday, but you were just so cute being all pouty, I wanted to drag it out a little longer.”

“Evil,” You scoffed lightly punching his chest. He only laughed and squeezed you tighter, “I love you y/n.”

“I love you too,” You mumbled relaxing in his embrace. “We should probably go back out there or else the guys will probably think we’re fucking in Seokjin’s bathroom.”

“I mean, Seokjin hyung gave us the okay, baby.” He smirked winking at you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t help the slight churn of heat that shot through your body, “I am not having sex in Seokjin’s hotel bathroom.”

“You’re no fun,” Hoseok said, this time his turn to pout. You lightly slapped his mouth, “Why do it here when we have a perfectly empty king-sized bed at my apartment?” 

He chuckled, snaking a hand down to squeeze your ass as you both exited the bathroom and rejoined the guys in the living room. The six looked at your interlocked hands and gave you claps of approval. “Can’t believe it took Yoongi hyung publicly outting y/n for you both to make up,”

“Yeah, can you breathe now, y/n?” Taehyung smirked at you as he agreed with Namjoon. You raised your fist to threaten Taehyung, cursing at him. The boys only laughed, Hoseok bringing your hands up to kiss the backside of your palm.

“You are so welcome, you fuckers.” ______________________________________________

a/n I got this idea after rewatching heirs and just mmmm i love hoseok goodnight.

7-11-20

[madllamamomma]

I Think I Have a Problem.... (A personal true story).

So as the title suggests, I have a strange problem…. Just as a warning, this is about my view of my younger self. It is about religion, and gender identity. This is not how I see the world anymore. It was how I told how the world should look. If you are offended in any way, please know this is a vent post and nothing to hurt anyone else. This is just what happened to me as a child. Shit….. This is about to get very long winded, so buckle up and here we go… *takes deep breath*

So a little backstory on your Mother Llama: I was raised in a weird backward ass “Independent” Baptist church most of my young life. If you guys don’t know what those are, be thankful…. But I guess I should explain it the best way I can…. they are a borderline cult. Yes. I said it. I’m not sorry. It may sound like an extreme accusation, but hold on. Just listen to me.

Now, I have no problem with Christians, or religion. You should believe whatever you want to believe in…. I do however, have a problem when religion is used as an excuse to not educate minds about the real world, force them to not let them think for themselves, and when someone questions any of it, they are punished or shamed for it instead of thinking about an answer. If you can’t tell, I am still a little angry about that shit. Imma try to keep on topic here….

I wasn’t taught science (real science anyways, it was all about ‘creation’ bs—OH! And being anything but a cis straight person was compleltly unexceptable. Woman were the weaker sex and were made to raise babies and take care of the husband. Men were superior and should be taken care of.) nor about World history or about other cultures, other than biblical of course. And when they were mentioned, they made them look evil and behave like heathens because they didn’t believe the same as they did. Everything changed when I went to public school half of fourth grade when my family moved to a different state and there wasn’t any church school like I went to. I learned a lot those years, that ‘The World’ wasn’t as bad of a place as they said it was. It was vast and had many things to offer. (No, not the World, Dio’s stan power from Jojo’s bizarre adventures—that is what our pastors called anything outside of the Baptist approved realm. Something ‘Worldly’ was basically something sinful and ungodly and therefor was bad and wrong).

So this may seem like a strange Segway in to what I am actually getting at, but I had a huge crush on this boy back when I was young and it started when I was about 12 or 13 years old and ended when I was 16. He was the same age as me, and he was the son of a pastor of a small church of about 20 people, mostly military families— we will call him.... D.... for dick...

I thought for a long time that I ‘loved’ D. I thought that ‘God made him for me’ (yes I really said that and it hurt to even write it). I really thought I knew what love was back then, but I was very wrong.

D was homeschooled, he didn’t have many friends and was also a navy brat like I was. So, naturally, we got along very well, and I would hang out with him at his house sometimes. We mainly played video games I was terrible at and he would always bet me. But I liked hanging out with him, so I didn’t care if I won or not. My heart for some reason was totally head over heels over D. And he liked me too for a while… or at least I thought he did… He however never made a move. I always thought D was just too shy, and didn’t know how to ask me. Any time I tried holding his hand, I’d chicken out. It was a stalemate. But this particular church did a thing where people had to court. Yes... COURT someone, not DATE (Courting is where you had adult chaperones keeping an eye on you two, you were never really alone. Ever, because apparently you can’t be trusted?). When we both turned 15 yo, D started a private Christian school. Being the awkward girl I was, I never told him how I felt, I just waiting for him to say something. Time passed, and I still waited and waited for him to ask me out.

But here’s the thing! He didn’t know the real me.

I was in public school, in middle school, and I started to become a weeb. Like a super cringy weeb that didn’t like anything else but anime—I was also kinda emo/punk kid thought I was edgy. (Yeah rock music was bad too, it was ‘Worldly’).Not a very good mix for Baptist I know. At school, I was one person, and at church I was another.

Well, being an anime fan meant I was exposed to a lot of things like the LGTB+ community for the first time. A lot of my friends at the time started to come out other than straight and that was very new to me.

During that time, I soon was starting to secretly question my faith, my understanding of my own sexuality and gender. Like, maybe people liking the same sex or both is actually not a bad thing after all (if you haven’t seen any of my works, hopefully you guys know that I know better that what I was taught—I am a proud fuckin’ ally! I still consider myself cis-straight, but some days I feel like I’m bi-curious, and that’s ok! It took me a long time to realize that, but I’m here now. Gender roles are dead and stupid.)

So here is the kicker~ One faithful day we had a guest pastor join us for a few weeks from another church. This mother fuckin’ nasty ass old white man from Alabama came with his ‘perfect quiet godly’ wife. Who badly ever spoke a damn word. She always just sat in the corner all ‘ladylike’.

—Oh!!! Another fun fact, I didn’t wear pants for a year when I was 10 yo becasue that was considered “cross dressing”— I’m dead fucking serious. My parents then decided after attending sporting events and stuff like that to drop that ludicrous lifestyle, becasue it was stupid. So, Outside of church, my family and I still wore pants and shorts and whatever, but in church we pretended that we didn’t wear anything but modest skirts, dresses, and long culottes. (That’s a little damaging…. don’t you think? Telling people your one thing, when in reality you're not like that at all??)

Anyways— I hated skirts, especially wearing them in the state we lived in, it was way too hot and I’d get chafed (these had to be knee length or longer btw). And of course that guest preacher would preach about the sins of women wearing pants, but I didn’t care. I wore them for so long, it just made me angry anytime someone would bring that up. I liked my jeans and I was starting to become a rebel teen who gave less than a fuck and started to speak my mind. Which was dangerous to that community…. Also I had a bad tendency of not keeping my legs together when I bent down, and one time I accidently showed my underwear (that’s really embarrassing btw, it’s not cute, it’s not funny, it’s awful when you're 14 yo-- really any age actually).

So, one day I wore a long jean skirt for a youth outing with the church. I was required to wear it, but I always wore leggings underneath so I wouldn’t accidentally show my undies if I fell down or the wind blew it. This fucker had to say something about it. The old man turned to me with a wrinkled smirk as I was passing by him and dared to utter, “Now, don’t you feel most femine and ladylike in that skirt? I’m sure Jesus would like seeing you like that.”

My shoulders clench up tight, my brow furrows. All I can remember seeing is fucking red and actually trembling with fury. (This was happening in my pastor, D’s father’s, own living room mind you.) D was there watching as I blanched about ten shades of red in anger and embarrassed because that prick of an old man called me out in front of everyone. I turned to him and half shouted, “NO! I don’t!” I could see my pastor’s mouth drop to the floor as I began to completely obliterate this old man. But I couldn't stop myself as I started to further cut into him. “—I hate wearing skirts! I don’t feel ladylike! In fact, they make me feel vulnerable! What if some guy tries to rape me! They won’t have any problem getting to me!—Why is something with a whole on the bottom more ladylike than something that actually covers me?! I like pants! They are comfortable and they make me feel safe! Why is that a sin to wear something that is more covering?!?! I’m not cross dressing, my mom bought them in the girl’s session!! [Keep in mind that was a long time ago, I don’t feel like people should care about what section they get their clothes from, wear what you want] And what do you know about wearing a skirt?! You’re a man! You try wearing them! They suck! You need to stop telling me what I can and can’t wear! I’m not dressing like a whore for wearing something with a crotch!! SO LEAVE ME ALONE!!” Everyone in the living room was just stunned at my audacity to dare speak to this pastor like I did. But he was so fucking quiet after that. And I stormed out of the house and the guest pastor never spoke to me again about it. Luckily my mom came and picked me shortly after that. She was angry too after I told her what happened. That old fuck singled me out and I was pissed off. I was a teenager and that shit was embarrassing!

But I made the mistake of showing my true self. I think after that moment, D stopped liking me after that.

Some shit went down south with my parents behind closed doors of my household, and eventually they got divorced. They left the small church because the pastor didn’t approve of it. Pastor said that my parents just needed more counseling but he didn't understand that they just needed to not be together. Sometimes you can’t make things work. Especially when your dad is a toxic piece of shit that only cares about himself.

Anyways, everyone in my family left the church, but I stuck around that shit-hole just to see if D would ask me out. I was so desperate, I felt like I waited forever, but really it was like 2-3 years, and I felt like I couldn’t give up. Eventually D and I turned 16. He started to become distant and a little mean towards me and I became confused and started to realize the worst. Finally, I was tired of waiting so I asked his older sister if he liked me on the way back taking me home. I could see it in her face, that she didn’t want to have my heart broken, but reluctantly she told me no. He actually liked another girl at his new private school and was going to ask her parents to court her instead.

I was so devastated.... It hurt so much, I cried myself to sleep that night, and most of that week I was very sad.

Obviously, after that, I stopped going to church entirely, I couldn't show my face anymore. Finally let myself question my faith, sexuality, gender roles, and humanity all together. And realized that religion was stupid (in my opinion at the time) and I came u with the conclusion that people can be sheep. I was a sheep for a long time. And I refuse to be one ever again.

High school was very enjoyable after that, and I let myself grow and started to love other religions and world history, and tried to stop being so judgmental of others and what they felt like. I even got into a relationship with a sweet boy around my age.

Eventually in college, after a break-up with my high school sweetheart, I reconnected with D via FB. Apparently, the church went under and his parents moved away to Greece to be missionaries or something. D still lives in the same town I’m in, but graduated from a “Christian academy”—not Catholic, Christian. Catholic colleges are accredited at least. But he basically told me he was a secret “bad boy” now. He lost his virginity in highschool, (like I did) and he was totally trying to booty call me. Not even hiding it either! He was like, “Hey, Llama, you wanna fuck?”.

And I was like, “D! You broke my fucking heart when we were young! Don’t you remember that???”

And he was like, “Oh no! I had no idea! (the fuckin’ liar). Well, we can fuck now!~ *wink, wink*”

🤨

This is where I was a jerk.... Because he broke my heart. I led him on, told him I would meet up with him at his house to sleep with him, and just didn’t show up—ghosted him ever since. The worst part about that, is I still don’t regret doing that to him. I hope I hurt his feelings and felt like an ass like I did.

So years have passed, I consider myself as a rather successful woman now. I’m 27, I consider myself Buddhist (I am a terrible Buddhist I know), I am an Occupational Therapy Assistant and I have a great husband (I married the guy I was with in high school). And he loves the real me—the crazy closet weeb, cartoon watching, creative, expressive, me! The person who also writes fanfiction about a romance novel and he is fine with it. Because he is a huge nerd too and we are both nerds together.

My husband is my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him. When I write about Rhemi and Muriel, I draw a lot of inspiration with our conversation we have and how relationship dynamics are and I think it makes the writing more authentic and makes them feel a bit more real.

I love my husband more than anything… So why do I keep dreaming about that stupid asshole that just liked the fake me? D was and always will be a total tool. He is like the basic bitch of a man. And yet I still find him creeping in my dreams and I try to cheat on my husband with him in them. I wake up feeling totally terrible and weird after them too. D is a terrible fucking person—the worst person you can be in my opinion—The kind of person why lies and tells people one thing, but hides the fact that he’s really just a nasty fuck boy. If you are one, just be honest! Don’t tell another woman you're a good christan man, when really you’ve slept with not just one, but multiple girls! That how you get fucking STDs! I hate being lied to, and I’m sure other girls do too! So I guess that’s why I do, because I felt like I was lied to my entire life. Then again, why should I even care?! Why do I feel like I still obsess over him? I hate him so much now! So why do I even care? Why do I still find myself stalking him on social media? Why does it even matter? Why do I want him to see I’m happy without him? Why do I want him to see what he could have had with me? We were just stupid teenagers! Why did I care so much? Why did it hurt so much when I found out he didn’t like me?! It’s been over a decade, and we didn’t even really date! Why did this affect me so hard? …. FUCK!

So yeah. That’s my long ass rant for you all… thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[revengeisalwaysanoption]

[Fic] All due respect here... (there's no respect due)

Let’s try one last time... I truly apologise if the cut doesn’t work on mobile, I am posting from my laptop.

Enough is enough, they're right. There’s only so much that can be forgiven, before one’s indulgence becomes a red flag. Loneliness is not an excuse, Martino.

“You need to put your foot down” they keep saying. “You need to draw a line and say: this is unacceptable. If you step over the line once you get a warning, but do it twice and we’re done.”

It's just that… you know… He feels so stupid, now? He has been so blind, so naïve and nearly let himself be played like a fiddle. Hurting those who really care about him, and for what? Approval?

The more he thinks about it, the worse it gets. The signals were all there, for fuck’s sake!

Lulling him into a sense of comradery, that he had been missing ever since his friends from high school had all chosen different paths… Yeah, that’s how it had all started. With him, trying so desperately to fill that void. It hadn’t been as difficult as had imagined to bond over incomprehensible lectures, disgusting coffee and eclectic lifestyles. Francesco had been the first to approach him, complimenting his Apparat-inspired T-shirt and asking where he bought it. It hadn’t seen anything quite like it on the Internet, or he would have remembered! Deciding it was best to weed out the homophobes straight away, Martino told him the truth: it was a gift from his boyfriend. Not quite his usual style, but since it made Nico happy to see him wear it…

“Oh man, you’re so whipped.” Francesco had commented, instead, laughing. “But hey, who am I to judge? I’m actually a bit jealous, you know. No one ever made me something that cool. Do you think I could commission him one?”

Marti did, but he had been wrong. Niccolò wasn’t interested in designing clothes for anyone else, and while he was flattered by Fra’s proposal he would have to turn it down. Not exactly a great start, but Martino didn’t think much of it. This wasn’t kindergarten and surely Francesco wouldn’t hold that refusal against Nico.

Marina had literally saved his life, when he crossed the street and didn’t look as he was in the middle of some lovely banter with Niccolò. In return for her heroic deed, he was bound to treat her to lunch. Or a coffee, at least. The way she delivered that ridiculous request, wiggling her head and biting her lips – like a mischievous child, amused by their own audacity – reminded him so much of a certain someone… that he found himself discussing the top 10 TV shows betrayals of the decade (no! they were never going to forgive D&D for what he had done to Daenerys!) over a cappuccino. She might have been side-eyeing him for checking his phone a little too much, but he didn’t really care.

And then came Lorenzo. Well, it was actually Martino who had reached out to him. Who found him sitting on the floor of a dingy bathroom, crying his eyes out. Years ago, he would have stepped out and let someone else comfort a stranger. But then… Then he though ‘what I was the one sitting there? what if it was Nico? I don’t want to think everyone would just walk away and pretend they didn’t see him…’ and sat down next to him. He didn’t ask if he was okay, when he clearly wasn’t. He didn’t ask why he was so distraught. It wasn’t any of his business, and the question alone would have made this guy feel worse. It was a lesson he had learnt the hard way, through his own experience and Nico’s.

“Oi, you got 2 tens or 4 fives? Some spare coins? I’ve only 20€ in my wallet, and that fucking machine never gives you the right change if you put in more than a 10€ note.”   He had asked, when Lori looked up.

“I… I…” He had said, sniffling. Frantically, he had started looking for the money and seemed truly sorry he couldn’t help Martino out.

“Hey, that’s okay. I’ll manage. So, what can I get you? You look like you could use some hot chocolate, though I’m afraid I can only find vaguely chocolatey-flavored water, around here.”

He didn’t think he would get to meet any of them ever again, and then one day he spotted them all sitting at the same table. It wasn’t like Martino had ever believed in fate, but that did seem like a coincidence straight out from a Norwegian teen drama. A French romance. Not that he had ever watched either of them, of course. An occurrence meant to show him that the universe had plans, for the four of them.

In hindsight, he should have told the universe where he could shove its plans…

For a while, however, Martino thought there could hardly be anybody on Earth who got luckier than him in when it came to friendship. They always knew where to find the next best party but didn’t mind spending a night in, binge-watching the latest trashy show that had been uploaded on Netflix. Playing FIFA. Discussing politics, and even ethics and philosophy when they were more than a little drunk.

Everything changed, however, when things started to get a bit more personal. When they started dispensing details about their crushes, their heartbreaks, and Martino foolishly felt comfortable enough to share more of his life with Nico. Painting quite an idyllic picture, as complaints and rants about his inability to tidy up a room and tendency to zone out when they were discussing financial matters would only ever be disclosed to Giovanni. Nevertheless, to say that they weren’t his biggest fans would be an understatement.

  “Let me guess, it’s Nico. Again.”

 “Okay… So, he can leave on read for hours, but starts panicking if you don’t answer straight away?”

 “He put salt in your coffee because you weren’t paying attention? Is he… like, five or something? But well, if you find that endearing… You do you, man.”

 And it only got worse after they met him, and began spinning a whole other narrative in which Martino was either a hero or a martyr, for ‘putting up’ with Nico.

 “Oh, you're such a great guy not giving up on that.”

 “You sure must love him a lot to endure all of his up and downs.”

He reassured them all, told them that he appreciated the concern but that they barely knew Niccolò so he wouldn’t stand for any further slandering of his boyfriend.

So they laid low, and stayed quiet, for a while. It hurt them to see Martino trapped in what clearly was an abusive relationship, but there was nothing more that could be said or done about it. Whenever Nico was mentioned, they changed the subject.

Until tonight. Asking them both to join them at a party, and then corner him and attempted to stage an ‘intervention’.

Couldn’t he see how possessive and controlling Niccolò was, manipulating Marti into thinking his new friends were out to get him?

 “The two of you, against the world? Doesn’t it sound disturbing to you?”

 “Marti, come on, you have to admit that he has controlling tendencies. He shouldn’t need to know where you are at all times, doing what, with whom. He shouldn’t come up and snatch you away, whenever he notices you spend time talking to the same person for more than 2 minutes.”

 “It’s like he can’t stand not being at the center of your attention 100% of the time.”

How… How dare they? Who the fuck do they think they are?

“Get out of my face, you fuckers. If I hear you badmouthing Nico ever again, you’re gonna regret it.”

Thankfully, they don’t try to stop him when he storms out the room. The last thing he wants is to end up in a fight, and having Niccolò find out it was because of him. It had already happened once, with Malik and his friends, and… No revival of that was needed, thanks.

Little do they know about their late conversations, when Martino had indeed noticed was off with Niccolò and tried to find out how he could help. Because Marti couldn’t relate to the magnitude of Niccolò feelings, sure, but he had been there the year before. When everyone in Uni had seemed far more interesting that a boy who still attended high school…

Niccolò has a jealous streak, sure. That had been clear ever since he put in his pasta. But it wasn’t the ugly side of jealousy, stemming from a warped sense of ownership over him. It was more like… Feeling like he didn’t matter, of maybe being interest enough to catch someone’s attention but lacking in keep them entertained. Which in turn made him petty, vindictive, clingy. It was only a matter of time before Martino would agree with those guys, and leave him for good.

Marti tapped Nico's skull, then, and said to his brain "Stop with this bullshit. Stop making my boyfriend suffer, you asshole. You know nothing, zero, zilch, nil, nada. You're worse than Jon Snow.” He bent down to kiss his heart, and went on with "You, on the other hand… You know Nico's the best thing that has ever happened to me and that I'd be a fool not to cherish it. So what if he’s got some flaws? Who cares? Not me. One thing matters and it’s this: no else compares. So yeah, tell him he shouldn't worry: I'm not going anywhere."

"Ever?" He mumbled, not quite ready to believe Martino.

"Kim Jong-un, Nico. Remember?"  Marti reminded him, smiling as he stroked his cheek.

"Right. How could I forget King-Kong-Là…" That made them both laugh, and they decided not to discuss the matter any further. They were far more pleasurable ways to spend their night together…

So yeah, screw them. Screw everyone who overanalyzes every little thing Niccolò does, who is always ready to point the finger at him and say that Martino deserves better.

Of course he does, duh. Better friends, for a start.

*********************** All due respect here... There's no respect due. So fuck you and you, and you and you. You're cool, but fuck you... And I'm out of here. (Swear Jar, Illy)

[unapologeticallyjaylos]

jaylos prompt

title: a second spurt of growth 

pairings: jay/carlos

ask: anon asked:

If you’re taking prompts right now, I would love a “someone is hitting on carlos and Jay is all angry and flustered” jealousy story

-------

Jay was used to being “the hot one”.

He would have to be blind not to see the girls (and sometimes guys, too) that took notice of him when he walked past. The groups of cheerleaders that liked to giggle and “accidentally” drop their pom poms near him when he finished a particular tough practice. Sometimes, he’d take his shirt off just to see them all go crazy.

He was Jay - the popular one, the sexy one, the heartbreaker.

Not that he wanted to make a move on any of them or anything - not now, at least. He had a boyfriend now. And Carlos de Vil made him happier than any cheerleader with her pom poms and double backflips ever could. Jay really didn’t give all the flirting a second thought until Jane happened.

Look, Jane was a good kid. He liked her well enough. She was a little too enthusiastic at times, but sometimes, when she rambled nervously or fidgeted with her hands, it did remind him of Carlos and that made him smile. The only issue he had with her was -

“That’s genius!” Jane blinked at Carlos almost reverently. “You’re so smart, Carlos.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, watching his boyfriend blush and look down at the textbook he and Jane had been pouring over for an hour. The two of them had been studying together for the past week - and Jay had just dropped in to bring Carlos some lunch - but now, he hovered a few feet away, listening.

“Well,” Carlos laughed nervously. “It’s not exactly - genius. Genius is - being able to understand interdisciplinary equations - like Grover’s quantum search algorithm or something.”

Jay smiled to himself. He didn’t get half the crap Carlos talked about when he went full science nerd, but he liked listening anyway. It was attractive to see him light up like that. Jane must’ve agreed because she leaned closer.

“Wow. Still sounds kind of genius to me.” She messed with the ends of her hair. “You’ve already helped me so much, you know? In class? Like - I understand things better and - you’re just a cool person. Like -”

Unable to help himself anymore, Jay walked over, clearing his throat loudly. “I brought you food, you handsome fucker.” He set the bag down in front of him and leaned over to give his boyfriend a kiss.

He and Carlos never hesitated to get physical in public - between the PDA, punching each other’s shoulders, or wrestling on the ground, they rarely kept their hands off each other - but today, Jay gave Carlos an unusually passionate greeting, pressing open-mouth kisses to his lips and jaw and neck.

“Christ,” Carlos panted, pushing him away slightly. “What the hell has gotten into you?” His face was flushed, and Jay loved how dilated his eyes had gotten.

Jay threw a quick glance at Jane, who sat back a little. “Nothing.”

Carlos sat back on the bench and opened the bag Jay had brought, taking out the cold slices of pizza with a grin. “Sweet.” Then he looked up, hopefully. “Did you by any chance bring -”

But Jay didn’t even have to hear the rest of the sentence to know exactly what Carlos wanted. He pulled a small plastic container of extra sauce from his pocket and handed it over. “Did you really think I wouldn’t remember? You must’ve reminded me a thousand times this morning.”

“You love extra pizza sauce?” Jane flashed them both an excited smile. “I love it, too!”

“Yeah, good for you.” It came out harsher than Jay had meant it to, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

“Jay,” Carlos frowned, looking up at him. “What’s wrong?”

Oh, nothing, Jay wanted to snap. Just figuring out how to get it through to Fairy Godmother Jr. here that you’re already taken.

Carlos’ eyes flicked across his face, coming to rest on his tense arms and jaw. He stood up, giving Jane an apologetic smile. “Hang on a second.” He grabbed Jay’s arm and dragged him out of earshot. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”

Jay grit his teeth some, folding his arms. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” His boyfriend glared at him. “Tell me. I mean, first the possessive kissing and -” Then Carlos’ eyes widened some. “Oh my God, you’re jealous.”

Still staring back stubbornly, Jay shook his head. Why did Carlos have to be so goddamn smart? It made it very hard to lie to him. “I am not.”

Grinning, Carlos had the audacity to laugh. “Jay, it’s just Jane!”

“And -” Jay lowered his voice, glancing over at the table again to make sure she wasn’t listening. “She was flirting with you!”

“I’m pretty sure wasn’t,” his boyfriend snorted. “And even if she was flirting with me, you know I wouldn’t reciprocate. I’m dating your stupid ass, remember?”

Jay did remember. And suddenly, he wondered if this was what Carlos felt like whenever Jay hung out with the cheerleaders or the giggling girls that always seemed to turn up when they hung out. And worse - Jay definitely flirted back at them. His face began to burn. “‘Los - I’m gonna stop messing with those cheerleaders, okay? I won’t flirt with them or smile at them anymore.”

Carlos stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to Jay’s red cheek. “Look at that,” he laughed when he pulled back. “I think Fairy Godmother would call that personal growth.”

Jay made a face. “It kinda sucks.”

Punching his shoulder affectionately, Carlos smiled. “You’re such an idiot.”

But Jay already knew that.