#at some point between the second and third trip I really had it in my mind I'd drop in on the big half pipe in the second pic

[stopfunkinwmyheart]

[heartofbusan]

Best laid plans of stomach bugs and men.

The chemistry is the point.

Some people underestimate the effort and toll it takes on ones body and schedule to fly 14 hours to visit another person. 14 hours to spend 72 hours together means commitment. It means bro's before ho's and I am frankly HERE FOR IT.

The discourse I am seeing is extremely telling of how fickle people are about their support for jikook. People watch too much scripted reality tv 🙄 bcs they really expected this relationship, this reunion if you will, to play out in multiple angle close ups and medium shots and several wide angle shots with dramatic zooms and heavily directed post-moment recaps with dramatic silences or eye rolls to play up the drama? The lack of moments, the MUNDANITY if you will IS THE POINT. They are so real to me, so life like, so domestic goals!

Being quiet with each other. No uncomfortable silences, but comfortable togetherness.

That's what leads to horny bed fighting, which in my eyes could lead to more if not for the cameras 👀 just me?

When they said unscripted, this is what they meant. When they said unplanned, this is what they referred to. Not directed, not scripted, not fanservice 🙄 to fit a planned narrative. This is how their relationship plays out. I'd go so far as to call it a documentary instead of a reality series. While documentaries have tons of genres within itself, this genre is one where there's a broad range of planned activities, but where the narrative is constructed in post production: editing. Id know, since im an editor. This tells me that they counted on the natural chemistry between 'JeonJi' (SO CUTE) to 'lead the way' instead of a multitude of directed interactions that they (the producers) would have needed to tick a dramatic narrative box.

So what does that lead to? In my professional opinion as a director/editor the first two episodes lacked a dramatic arc. There was little directing going on to force one

the chemistry is the point

The flirting, the lulls in conversation, them being together, seeing them have fun, and reconnecting is the point. Instead of what they're doing or what they're talking about. The episodes, therefore, are kinda boring in the sense of entertainment, but wildly exiting in the sense of what we get to see play out. And it's incredibly nuanced. And nuance often flies over people's heads..again, the crowd that expects to be held by the hand when it comes to drama: reality tv.

It's a huge risk to take as a production. Let's not underestimate that! 'Are You Sure' was so unscripted that they didn’t even have a title until halfway into the second or third day. Again: they were banking on JeonJi to build upon their chaos to lead to a narrative and a title, etc. That is so telling to me. That them being together is the raison d'etre of this show. Jimin 'sacrificing' his time to fly to the US, Jeonkook making space in his busy schedule time to spend time unwinding, JeonJi making good on their need to finally spend time together after the booked and busy year they've had.

Jimin enjoying the hell out of Jungkook having fun.

Because that is who Jimin has always been: his adventurous spirit takes him places because he loves exploring and being in tue moment. He'll willingly travel to have those moments. Jungkook on the other hand doesn’t. He dislikes leaving the comfort of his surroundings because he doesn’t see the pot of gold that being adventurous brings him while he's comfortable in his home. I relate 😩 so much. Just planning trips alone makes me enter a comatose state, so I'd rather not go than sacrifice my rest to plan an adventure. I don't even know I'll get anything out of. That is, until Im actually on that planned trip and having the time of my life! They've always been like that. Jimin had to be the incentive to get Jungkook out on that trip. Take.him.by the hand if you will 😭😭

And then there's the stomach bug. YOU DAMMNED CURSED THING. It threw a HUGE wrench into their plans, and if anyone doesn’t take that into consideration, then you haven't had a stomachbug EVER while still having to face up to your commitments. Park Jimin will NEVER back down from his commitments, his promises *pinky promises* are sacred to him, and this bug took away the catalyst of this duo. Jungkook suddenly had to be the extrovert of the two, and boy, does he struggle in that role. He was to me his usuall baby elf self. So adorable and cute with his nose focused on food and Jimin’s care. But my man loves to rely on Jimin to lead the way in shenanigans and to make any moment entertaining, and you could just tell Jimin wasn't in his feels enough to overcome his lack of energy. Poor baby. Really, he's the best of us because I would have straight up refused to be filmed in that moment. A whole night of diarrhea and still showing up to film the next day?! NO MA'M NOT ME.

If you've read up to this point, I commend you. It was just supposed to be a short rant, but it became an entire essay because I can not with the overly reactionary nature some people show. Drawing entire conclusions based on two hour long episodes. I know, I might be contradicting myself here but extenuating circumstances and all. Jimin wasn’t on his game, and Jungkook was also recovering. When a show is banking on the chemistry between two people to shoulder the brunt of this show and said people are extremely sick, well then what can I tell you?

We need to sit back and enjoy the fact that we are getting such access to them, so unfiltered. Jikook enjoying each other, come rain or shine, in sickness and in health, whatever the mood brings, because that to me is more valuable than DRAMA or NARRATIVE. We'll probably get a bit more of that once they're going to Jeju, and they're both hopefully healthy. We're even getting a new element for them to play off of: Tete shows up! Like a jack in the box, and Jungkook seems to not be having it, lmao...see..unscripted and natural. I love that for them!

Idols are people first, and we need to celebrate that, not demand more.

[seattlesellie]

soccer!ellie x cheerleader!reader headcannons (sfw+nsfw) ⚽️💗 18+

this has been on my mind a lot.

ᥫ᭡ first of all, lets make it clear. ellie is a forward, and an attacking midfielder. when it comes to playing, ellie's a game maker. she's calculated, and knows exactly what she's doing. often times, you could catch her pacing around the midfield in what may seem like an aimless strut, but if you really look at her, you would notice those brain gears turning, she's thinking ahead. it's as if she gets inside her opponents brains and studies them. she knows exactly what their next move will be, and when the balls in-between her legs, her kicks are precise and calculated. while everybody else is chasing the ball, ellie already knows how to score the next goal, and a minute later? she does. oh— and it's her third one in the game already.

ᥫ᭡ when ellie scores, she can get a little cocky, but it took her some time and practice to get this comfortable. when she scored the first goal on her very first college game, she stood frozen in front of the goalie. her eyes narrowed in confusion, “did i…?”— and in a matter of exactly five seconds, her teammates were all over her. dragging her across the field, picking her up and cheering her on. ellie was so exultant and excited she swore she stopped breathing for a moment.

ᥫ᭡ now? when ellie scores... yeah, she knows exactly what she's worth. she points her finger to her ear, signals at the audience; "let me hear you", and nods her head when the chanting gets louder. when they shout; "williams! williams! williams!" her ego inflates in her chest, and she almost feels like a god— albeit, she's not annoying about it. it's just fun when people scream her name, you know?

ᥫ᭡ sometimes, ellie spots a cutie in the audience and hands her her sweat drenched tee with a shy smile. speaking of tee? her kit is a black shirt with blue stripes, and a royal blue, golden crown symbol. her nike socks are pulled up to her ankles, and when she jacks up her shirt to wipe some sweat off her sheeny forehead, she reveals her mouth watering abs, and a firm v line right on her lower abdomen. no wonder girls swoon over her, and no wonder she likes it.

ᥫ᭡ when ellie saw you in the audience, the last thing on her mind was handing you her tee. honestly, what she wanted to do was hide under a bench and bite the ball between her teeth. you made her too nervous, what could she say? you weren't just a cutie in the audience, you were drop dead gorgeous, you wore that cheerleading outfit and you cheered for her— well, for her team, and for some reason she couldn't quite recognize, you paid her no mind. you were the only one who didn't flash her flirty, playful smiles after the won a big game, and you were the only one who made her heart feel like it was dropping right to her pants.

ᥫ᭡ after scoring three goals, she finally spotted you. you had your pom pom's in your hands, and you were talking to two of your friends. after you noticed she was looking, practically staring, you raised her a small, shy smile, and her breath quickened. right when she waved at you, you turned around. then— she pretended to wave at someone else. that, led her blush to creep down to her chest. she fumbled the ball twice, almost tripped on her shoelaces and received one yellow card, that turned into two yellow cards— when she decided that arguing with the referee wouldn't be a stupid decision.

ᥫ᭡ ellie has access to her teams instagram account, so she stalks you from there. obviously, she doesn't follow you on her personal account because at the end of the day she's a terrified loser, hence why she's right here, at 9pm, on her best friends bed, logged on to the jackson's tigers. she comes across a picture of you from december. she groaned at how pretty you are, dropped her phone right on her forehead and... double tapped. "oh fuckfuckfuckfuck" "fucking hate this fucking phone... DINA! HELP" ᥫ᭡ when you asked her teammate about it the next day, ellie was near, and she turned her head to the other direction so swiftly her neck almost cracked. then, that night, she concluded that the smartest thing to do was to spam like all of the jacksons tigers cheerleaders posts and comment "out favorite cheerleaders!" on one of your pictures from practice.

you were so freaking confused.

ellie thought she was a genius.

ᥫ᭡ clearly, ellie talks about you with her teammates. she talks about you so much they practically call her a “fucking idiot” for not asking you out already. it always begins with “that one cheerleader…” and then, they immediately roll their eyes, because they know who she’s talking about, and for some reason— she refuses to use your name. she says it's because she doesn't remember it. they think it's because she's a loser. “one cheerleader”, as if there were truly any others on her mind.

ᥫ᭡ when she asked you out for the first time, it was right after a game. a 6:1 game. she felt so triumphant and the adrenaline rushed through her veins, it was almost a given. she was going to ask you out. today. right now. she walked over, fanning herself with her tee, absentmindedly flashing her abs, you looked at her and smiled so softly she felt as if she was going to choke. “good game, williams” you bubbled, and now, what fucking game and who’s fucking williams? so flustered, all she wanted to do was join the water polo team and drown herself in the pool. “hey… you want my shirt?” she muttered, could you tell she was breathless?. right, her shirt, this is the move.

“for…?” you responded, tilting your head.

she stammered, and toyed with the hem of her tee. “for um…” for? for? for? “for the…” she huffed, scratching her neck.

“for our date?”

ᥫ᭡ for your first date, she took you out for milkshakes. although they were two dollars each, she insisted on paying and nearly dropped her wallet on the floor. "no, really, let me… please?", and who could say no to that? you two practically talked about nothing and everything at the same time. she teased you about being a cheerleader; "all you do is jump around" (she knew it wasn't true, she just wanted to see how cute you'd get when you're pissed) and somehow, you weren't pissed. you responded with a grin.

"and all you do is run around and chase the ball like a dog"

ᥫ᭡ she truly felt like if she didn't kiss you right now she might die, so she did. she crawled under the booth like an idiot, and sat directly next to you. her eyes darted form your lips to your eyes, to your lips again.

"are you gonna ki—"

ᥫ᭡ the next moment you knew, her hand was on the back of your neck, and her lips crashed into yours. when she pulled away, cheeks flushed and lips still parted, she whispered a breathy "yeah, gonna kiss you".

after that night? you two were inseparable, glued by the hip.

ᥫ᭡ ellie gets incredibly in her head before games. she's slightly anxiety ridden, paces in fast circles around the room just huffing under her breath about different strategies, and what her opponents will do. "if i get a penalty kick..." she begins, and she looks so angry and pouty you have a feeling that you know exactly what's gonna help. the best remedy to her nerves? you. it's as if a comically large lightbulb appears over your head. "wait, what's a panel kick?" you question, tilting your head. you give her this pout, like you're stupid— but you know exactly what a penalty is, you've been to about ten games already. she chuckles softly under her breath and shifts her body towards you. "penalty, babe, it's penalty kick" then, you ask her to explain. she sits down on the bed, pats her thigh and signals you to sit on her lap. when you do, it begins. all she does is elliesplain soccer to you, and suddenly all of her nerves are gone. she doesn't know what you're doing, or maybe she does, but truly, she doesn't mind. your touch light as a feather, you caress her arm as she rambles on and on, and at one point— you're not even listening. you fully are just staring into her eyes, focusing on making her feel good. you get off from her lap, and signal her to place her head on your thighs. "keep going, els" you softly hum. "and then... on that one game, messi and ronaldo, like—“ then, she yawns, and her voice has that sweet, lazy raspiness to it, gets breathier and softer. she dozes off right on your thigh. when she wakes up, she huffs a small "thank you", and you know it's sincere. she kisses your jaw, gently holds your wrist, brings it up to her chaste lips, and pecks it softly. "you're too cute, you know that?"

ᥫ᭡ once you two started dating, you no longer felt like the teams cheerleader, you felt like you were ellie's, and ellie's only. obviously, you dont make it clear to them, but when you cheer— you keep your eyes glued on her. you sneak extra glances, and sweet smiles just for ellie. when the chant ends with a "go team!" you mouth her a small "go... ellie" and to that, she grins, and cocks her head.

you give ellie her final hug, before she has to go on the field. "go ellie?" she whispers in your ear. "yeah" you bite your lip, swallowing a giggle, and her hand pinches your waist. "oh yeah?", and it's so raspy and teasing that it makes your knees nearly give up on you. "good luck, williams" you kiss her on the cheek, but she tsk's, grabs your jaw and kisses you hard, in front of everybody.

"don't need luck when you're right here"

ᥫ᭡ when ellie scores, she dedicates the goal to you. she’s scanning the audience, and when she finds you, jumping up and down, clapping your hands and screaming her name, she points at you, and only at you. "this one's for you" she mouths. truthfully? all of them are. as soon as the game ends, her teams all over her. picking her up, carrying her around— that's until she spots you, sucking on your bottom lip and smiling so big it's making her heart practically melt. "wait a sec, guys..." she walks off, and when they groan, she shrugs; "gotta say hi to my girlf—" before she even finishes her sentence, you're jumping in her arms. she picks you up, spins you around and giggles so loud even her teammates can't help but join in. "you're my fucking champion, ellie" you praise, looking deep into her eyes.

"you're my champion" she won. and yet, you still are.

"but you won!!" you argue, fuck— your heads starting to spin.

"only won cause you’re here, only fucking reason" and maybe, it is.

ᥫ᭡ you made her a good luck charm bracelet, and decorated it with blue, black, golden beads. she wears it on her her left wrist, to every single game. she doesn't exactly believe in luck, but she believes in you, and she believes that somehow, every game she won was because of that charm.

nsfw 💗:

ᥫ᭡ the no sex before a big game policy her coach had forced upon the team popped like a little bubble when you two met. one time, one of her friends talked about it with you. you had no idea that was even a thing. the only sentence she said afterwards, was "if coach finds out, she's toast" oh.

ᥫ᭡ one thing about ellie is that she's obsessed with fucking you in your cheerleading outfit. makes you do a little spin, and then takes your top off. when it comes to the skirt? "leave it on, babe". she thinks it has to be a kink or something, because when she watches you cheer, your skirt slightly hiking up and revealing a little of your upper thigh, she loses her mind. she has to bite on her tongue and her face goes all red, you’re killing her— did you know that?

she's sat comfortably on the bed, dressed in her grey sweats and sports bra, whilst you demonstrate your cute little dance. "first, i have to kick my leg up" — and when you do, your panties poke through and she has to swallow hard. "yeah? what else" she places her palms on her thighs, spreads them, and keeps her eyes glued on your body. "then... a little spin" you twirl, and the air lifts your skirt up. to that, she mutters a curse word under her breath.

"do that again"

"ellie…” you whine, and before she has time to respond, you just do it again.

she nods her head up and down. "take your panties off"

you don't listen, do you? deciding on giving her that bratty attitude, she tells you again. "i said... take those panties off"

you stand in front of her, lifting your brow. she gets on her knees, places a soft kiss on your inner thigh, pats it lightly, takes them off for you and stuffs them in her pocket.

"now, do that spin again"

ᥫ᭡ when you take her strap while wearing your skirt, she truly goes crazy. makes you bounce on it as the fabric flaps around, fully just teasing her, and she's just as close to cumming as you are. "fuck! mmmph-ellie!" you wail, incoherently so, and it sounds like pure gibberish. "again, say my name again" she hisses, and now— she's practically fucking it into you, rolling her hips so you don't even have to move a muscle. the only thing you do, is spread your puffy folds open for her, hiking up your skirt so she gets a good view of your pussy and your erect little clit, pumping just for her. "i said... fuck— again" "ellie!" you gasp, and the look on her face is a look of pure bliss, of pure smugness, cocky satisfaction. "that's it…”

ᥫ᭡ when she has a big game coming up, truthfully, so do you. cheering might not be as intense, and it's not a damn competition, but you work just as hard. which is why... she makes you chant those cheering athems while she's inside of you. maybe, it'll make you remember them better.

"what comes next, huh?" she croaks, circling your clit with her thumb whilst deliciously splitting you open with her strap. "then its... it's... oh— ellie" you sob, clenching around her as if she might run away if you won't. "it's...?" she teases, and takes your cheeks between her fingers. "it's... go t—t—team" you whimper, squeaking like a dog's chew toy. "i dont think that's quite right" she manages to keep her voice steady, but her movements are anything but. she's panting, and encourages you on. "c'mon— gotta remember it f'me, you can do it" she grunts, gives your ass a little slap that makes you squirm. she grabs the fat between her palms, and nods her head. you can truly do it, you know you can. "it's... it's go el— go ellie" with the sound of her name, she fastens her pace, both inside of your achy cunt, and right on your clit. "el— el— gonna c—cu!" you cry out, holding on to her wrist while she hovers on top. "you're gonna what?" now, her voice is just as unsteady, with the base of the strap hitting her puffy, wet clit. "c—cum" when you manage to cry, it washes over you, mind boggling, makes your entire body jolt till you're shaking beneath her. she helps you ride it out,

"take it— fuck— take what's yours, take it.”

“that's my girl"

ᥫ᭡ anyways, ellie is obsessed with the way her name sounds as it leaves your mouth. obsessed with hearing you scream it, whimper it, whine it, obsessed when it comes out shaky, and obsessed when it's crystal clear. her favorite one though? "go... ellie!"

ᥫ᭡ if she loses a game... oh, what a sore loser. she puts the blame entirely on herself, especially with her new role as the teams captain. but oh, how lucky she is, to have such a considerate girlfriend. when you two got home from the game, you laid on the bed. she gave your hand a little squeeze;

"gonna shower" and she lifts her body or of the mattress. “dont wait up, babe— go to sleep"

she opens the bathroom door, and the water start streaming. you really won't go to sleep though, would you? what you do instead, oh...

you go through her bag, aimlessly looking for something... something, that will make her feel better. something that will show her she's the boss, whether she loses or wins.

her tee. "WILLIAMS" on the back, with the number "7" right below. you can't help but chuckle, grin— even, and do a little dance before you put it on. it's sweaty, damp, but you don't seem mind. you take off your shirt, your bra and your panties, and you wear it. it smells like her and it caresses right over your nipples, you almost have to stop from being so nasty and touching yourself with whilst she's showering. you're wearing her tee, her name— williams— you're hers. williams fucking girl. you sit pretty on the bed, legs wide open, and you wait. you wait and you wait and you wait— till you no longer hear the water streaming. she opens the door, and if your heart skipped a beat, ellie was pure having heart palpitations. she groaned loudly, and you almost felt the air she let out on your skin. "what is... what—“ she moves closer, and her eyes look hungry, ravenous.

"m'showing you.." you purr, in an attempt to hide the nervousness in your voice. you turn around, on all fours, purposely flashing her your ass and your cunt when the tee rides up. you point at your back. "who i belong to...”

ellie's never moved so quickly in her life, not even when she's chasing the ball. she yanks you by the tee, and pulls you closer to her chest. "yeah?" she whispers, as if she doesn't already know the answer. she nibbles on your neck, and you whimper.

"all yours... captain"

oh fuck.

[supernovafics]

you and steve hate each other but... maybe not anymore?

wc: 588

a/n: i was working on this and then stopped and then finally got around to finishing it<333 this is basically a third part to two other blurb-ish things i wrote (first thing / second thing)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

there was somewhat of a shift that happened after the night you went over to steve’s house when he was sick. neither you nor he spoke about this shift— for some reason, it didn’t feel right to— but it still felt completely obvious. 

when he went back to work a few days after that night, finally returned to full-ish health, you decided against making some teasing jab about how he still looked pretty bad, even though it was on the tip of your tongue. and he didn’t dryly say, “glad to see you didn’t burn the place down while i was gone,” with a harsh roll of his eyes.  

both of those things should’ve happened. it always made more sense to make fun of one another than to do anything else; it was all a part of the animosity-filled dynamic you two shared. however, on that afternoon, you both said simple “hi’s” and “hello’s” and that was that. 

you two definitely weren’t friends, but you could admit (only to yourself, definitely not to him) that you didn’t dislike him as much as you once did. for the first time probably ever, things were actually civil between you two, and it didn’t feel like they were being forced to be that way. 

an unspoken truce was agreed upon and it stayed that way for the final week and a half you were covering for robin while she was out of town. 

and then the last day rolled around. 

a comfortable silence lingered throughout most of that day. customers coming in and out and you and steve alternating helping each person. there was even a moment when he made a joke that you found yourself laughing at before you could tell yourself not to. 

“robin’s back tomorrow, so today’s my last day,” you randomly decided to remind him at one point toward the end of the shift. “actually, i don’t know why i’m saying that when you’ve definitely been counting down the days until i’m out of here.” 

you expected him to agree with your words, but he didn’t; at least not outwardly. 

“i’m sure keith would give you a job if you wanted it,” steve said. “i’m pretty sure he likes you.” 

you outwardly cringed. “ugh, don’t say that.” 

it was quiet for a second. you both continued stocking the recently returned tapes on the cart behind the counter since the store was empty and there was nothing else to do. 

“so…” you started and then trailed off, suddenly feeling nervous, even though you had never felt that way around steve. “um, you would actually want me to work here? with you?” you quickly tried to correct yourself. “you and robin.”

he was quiet for a few moments and then simply shrugged. “robin would definitely love it.” he finished stocking the last tape in his hand before looking at you. “and i wouldn’t mind it.”

that said more than enough to you. 

“okay,” you gave him a small nod, pretending as if you were entirely unaffected by his civility and this niceness that had never been directed toward you; which, rightfully so, because you were never nice to him either. until now. “i’ll think about it.” 

you didn’t hate him, you realized later when you were back home and robin was calling to tell you about her trip and also ask you how it was working with steve for the past month. and you also realized that maybe you never really did hate him in the first place.

[bambisnc]

do i wanna know? [ft. j.sc]

@ sungchan : i FUCKING dare you to pull this blanket one. more. time. @ y/n : your wish is my command cutie 😋😝

pairing : significant annoyance!sungchan x f!reader genre : fluffy + crack cw/tw : there's only one bed :O + swearing + uneditted wc : 1K LETS GAUUURR

the newest addition on your list of things you despise about jung sungchan : how he felt no qualms at all when breaking the ONE rule you had established.

do not cross the boundary of pillows you had meticulously arranged on the queen bed that you had the misfortune of sharing with him i.e., stay away from you as much as possible.

another addition on your list was the way his arms were wrapped around your waist in a way that caused your chest to be pressed against his back in a far too intimate embrace for someone who rarely let go of any opportunities to pick (petty) fights with you. 

the fact that a small part of you, the same part which kept trying to make your breathing just a little quieter so as to not wake him up, wanted to simply go back to sleep just so you could stay enveloped in his comfort for a little longer is completely irrelevant. 

when you think back to the events of the previous few nights, you can’t help but feel slightly murderous intentions towards your so-called best friend, yujun. 

it’s all her fault, really, if you think about it. 

why did she have to go and find a boyfriend? especially when said boyfriend, shotaro, just so happened to be best friends with the literal bane of your entire existence.

why did they have to book a romantic getaway and then end up being busy when the date of the trip arrived? and why, you asked the heavens, why must they have given both you AND sungchan keys to the room??

the lack of communication between the couple was definitely going to be the reason for your untimely demise. 

so far, the one sole highlight of your trip had been the utter shock on sungchan’s face when you walked into the lobby of the fancy hotel, late evening. you’d greeted him with a tight smile, in an attempt to act civilly. 

that went downhill rather fast. but to be fair; you did have your reasons...

…they were threefold. 

first, when you mentioned that you wouldn’t feel too comfortable asking the reception for an extra room and asked him to do it for you, he went off on some kind of a rant saying he wasn’t obligated to do anything you told him. 

when you pointed out that with how defensive he was being, it was almost as if he wanted to share a room with you; he only rolled his eyes and pushed his tongue against his cheek in that ever so annoying way of his. 

you could’ve almost sworn he said something about being .. denser than a .. neutron star? okay astronomy nerd

second, over the days, sungchan had for some reason taken to being stuck to your person like glue. he followed you all over as you were exploring the facilities of the hotel and eventually even dropped in on what were supposed to have been quiet meals where you basked in the delight of your own company; all the while spitting out teasing quips and comments to you.

and there were those out of nowhere, not-so-fleeting touches of his too. playful (??) little shoves, moving your hair away from your face (in an obviously condescending way. right?) etc. you chose to not pay much attention to those.

until, that is, the kitchenette incident occurred. 

while trying to pour yourself a glass of water (because how would you be able to properly pay back each and every one of sungchan’s infuriating actions if you weren’t hydrated?), you can only assume you’d somehow been blocking the narrow walkway into the room. 

which had then led him to move you to the side with a hand on your waist, almost as if with practiced ease. 

no you did not take almost a whole day to process this.

but the third reason is the one you can safely assume to have been the most fatal for you.

the way he insisted on not letting you take the couch but also refusing to sleep on it himself. 

c’mon we’re both mature, smart people he’d said we can sleep in the same bed for a couple days, no? unless.. you think you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself, hmm~?

you had thrown a pillow right at him; to wipe off that infuriating smirk off of his face. 

it didn’t work at all. -

the warmth of the sunlight streaming in through the windows coaxes you out of your reverie. all of your senses are suddenly hyper aware of how soft sungchan’s skin feels against yours and how the soft breaths he lets out against your neck have your hair standing on end.

you’re especially aware of how his grip around your waist tries to pull you in closer, as if you weren’t already millimeters away from basically becoming one with him. 

he shuffles around a bit more before you realize he’s waking up.

you immediately allow your eyes to close and attempt to relax all your tense muscles to look as if you were still asleep. maybe you just can’t bear to face how he would react.

“y/n….?”

he still hasn’t moved his arm.

“what are you- SHIT.”

there it is. he pulls away like you’re somehow physically hurting him. 

“oh thank god you’re still asleep. lord knows you wouldn’t have hesitated to actually fight me if you were awake right now.”

…. is he not aware that he’s quite literally 6’1 and with muscles for days?

“i just…” he sighs “i wish i could just hug you properly. preferably after i confessed and you accepted to let me be yours.”

what. 

“i suppose, in my heart, i technically already am. i just wish you could be mine too.

………..

….. y/n ….? i could've sworn your face didn’t look this red earlier? ……………

oh my god.”

he’s gentle with his movements as he moves your body so that if you were to open your eyes you’d be face to face with his. 

“you’re awake aren’t you?”

notes : ill be honest this was originally meant for chanhee.... but sungchan broke into my house (mind) and said i think tf nawt! + [m.list] song rec : do i wanna know - arctic monkeys

𐙚 . regulars : @x0llaz @nicholasluvbot @totheseok @mellowdyverse @fae-renjun ⋆

[tiredmamaissy]

Non-Unrequited Love

Non-Unrequited Love: Part I

Read Part II, Part III & Special Ep. I here. (Links are also below)

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Lo’ak (18) x Omatikaya Reader (18)

Warnings: Slight NSFW, cursing, lots of fluff, lo'ak in rut

Word count: 3.6k

Authors Note: This series is really a continuation of one event. It has a slow start, but nearing the middle and end it gets pretty steamy.

Synopsis: You and lo'ak have been friends all your life. Everyone knows that you like each other, except the two of you. Fed up with him flaking on you constantly, you follow him one day and find out he's in rut. Now your alone with the love of your life, on a secluded island, whilst he's in rut.

Intro:

Lo’ak experienced his first rut at the early age of 17. He chose to endure his rut alone, until the girl of his dreams (y/n) had chosen him as a mate. It was rather painful and lasted much longer than normal – 3 entire days. His only form of release was himself. His father brought him to a secluded island, near to hometree, where he could go and endure his rut alone.

He’s had feelings for you since you guys were in your early teens. You two did everything together. You’ve tamed your ikrans together, learned how to use a bow and arrow together, and even got in trouble together. You two were inseparable and knew everything about each other. Nothing could pull you guys apart, and everyone around you knew that you were destined mates. However, you have also been waiting for him to choose you as a mate.

Despite the continual encouragement from his older brother, Neteyam, telling him to express his feelings to you, he still chose to wait. Thus, he has spent the last three, very painful ruts on his own. He had gotten used to the feeling and learned ways on how to cope with it. He would start by taking a bath in the lake, eat some grub, and embark on his, several, intense self-love-making sessions.

Coincidentally, every time his rut came around, there would be some sort of special event that he would have flake for. Outside of these special events, he deemed himself as a reliable companion. His first rut came on your birthday. The day of, Neteyam came to you and explained that he was extremely sick and needed to rest.

The second time around, he had promised to go with you on your first real hunting trip together. You waited on him for 2 hours at the meeting spot, before giving up and going back home. Later, Kiri came to you and explained that Lo’ak got in trouble for stealing his father’s assault rifle and that he was grounded for a few days. Seemed believable enough.

On his third rut, he promised to take you to the hallelujah mountains to a hidden spot his parents showed him when he was younger. He said he would make it up to you there, and that he’s been wanting to confess something to you. Jake himself, told you he was sick again, and that he would make it up to you another time.

Today, it was your uniltaron (dream hunt), where you were supposed seek your spirit animal. It was important to you that he showed up to this rite of passage. When Neteyam came running to you with his tail between his legs, head hanging low, you didn’t even let him speak.

 ------------

“Y/n, I – I’m sorry. Lo’ak, h – he, he -.” Neteyam stutters, out of breath from running to meet you at the tree of souls.

“No, not another word.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. “He always does this! What is this? He is supposed to be my best friend. What kind of best friend misses this?” you cry, motioning over to the ceremony.

Neteyam looks sorry for you and tries to explain. “I know, but there’s a good reason, y/n. If you would just let me explain!”

“No.” you take your small dagger out from your chest and point it in his direction. “tell me where he is! Where is this bitch hiding this time?” you shout.

“y/n... I can’t.” you step closer to him, and he steps back, looking behind him trying not to trip. “I can’t tell you!”

“Neteyam, I will pluck the eyeballs right out of your face!” at this point, he’s on the floor and you’re towering over him, like a predator trapping their prey.

“He’s on the island! Okay? The island!” his hands are in the air, covering his face.

You calm down a bit and withdraw your dragger slightly. “Which island? Where?” Neteyam looks hesitant to answer.

It seemed as if he were trying to choose whether he wanted to be maimed by his brother’s crazy mate or face the rath of the great Lo’ak. Neither seemed very appealing to him, but he’d rather take his chances with Lo’ak.

“The island right across from here. You will find him there. But y/n, he is not himself right now. He’s not the Lo’ak you know and love. You should just wait for him to come back.” Neteyam warns you.

You hiss your teeth, “Love? Pshh.” you get up in a huff, fuming with rage, and make your way to your ikran, mounting it swiftly.

“Crazy woman... they’re really made for each other.” Neteyam mumbles under his breath, shaking his head.

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

You had been to this island once with Kiri before, to harvest some sort of rare plant that is supposedly able to relieve a third-degree burn in minutes. You and Kiri got the plant, but at the expense of almost losing a few limbs. No one is really supposed to go here, primarily because of the large population of Thanators.

You have heard of a rumor though, that there is a hidden spot, nestled deep into the jungle, where na’vi go to mate before Eywa. It’s supposedly some sort of obscure spiritual sanctuary, that only higher ranking na’vi like the Olo’eyktan, Toruk Makto, and other great warriors know about.

This didn’t stop you, though. The blinding rage that courses through your body is enough motivation to fly there just to maim Lo’ak. What was happening here that was more important than your ceremony?

Your ikran makes a large thump when you land on next to a tree on the island. You dismount her and explore your surroundings. You can recall most of the island, seeing that Kiri would not let you leave until you sourced that ridiculous plant.

With your bow and arrow in hand, you lean against the trunk of the tree next to you, “Lo’ak! I know you’re here. Come out!” You yell.

Lo’ak is hiding high in the canopy of the tree directly above you. He peers down at you, squinting his eyes to get a better look. After confirming that it is indeed you, he takes a deep breath to steady his heart rate.

Why is she here? How did she figure out where I was?

His breath steadies, and his heartrate slows. His rut was approaching any minute, and he was finding it hard to keep calm. The girl he’s loved for so long just stepped foot into a secluded island with him while in rut, what could possibly go wrong?

“Lo’ak! Come out, come out wherever you are” you taunt, just like when you were playing hide and seek as kids. You slowly load your bow with an arrow.

He studies your posture, seeing that you’re armed, and angry. He removes his dagger out of its casing and climbs down on the branch below him. He’s calculating his every move, planning out exactly how he’ll deal with you.

Just as you were about to give up and search another area, something large and heavy attacks you, pinning you to the ground. You shriek from the unexpected blow, huffing and puffing from the pressure in your chest. Your hands are trapped under your own body, and its paw is holding your head down firmly. It exhales hot air onto the back of your neck, making your ears perk up.  

A Thanator? Shit!

You go into fight or flight mode, and surprisingly for a mighty warrior like yourself, you choose flight. You know you’re no match for the jungles biggest and baddest predator. You begin to wriggle underneath it, trying to release yourself from its tight grip so you can make a run for it back to your ikran.

“You should not be here.” the Thanator speaks.

Surprised, you look behind you to see Lo’ak pinning you down, with his knife out.

“Fuck! I thought you were a fucking Thanator, Lo’ak. Great Mother. Never do that to me again.” He releases you from his grip, letting you scurry away.

“I may as well be.” He spits, through breathless pants.

You put away your bow and arrow and put your hands in the air. “You too.” you look wide eyed at the dagger in his hand. He carefully places it back into its casing.

“Why are you here?” he says in a cold voice. It stung to hear the man you secretly loved didn’t want you here.

“Why are you here?” you ask back, crossing your arms over your breasts.

He looks down, and takes note of the placement of your hands, staring a little too long. He looks back up at you, with emerald, green eyes, “I’m trying to protect something very valuable to me. But it’s not working out how I planned.”

You take interest in the sudden change of his eye colour, but you find what he just said more interesting. Intrigued, you ask “Protecting what? If it that valuable to lock yourself away on an island, you could have just roped me in for some help, Lo’ak.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “It is not a what, it is a who.”

“A who?” that stung even more. Who’s more valuable than his best friend? You look down, deep in thought, trying to think about who could be so valuable to him that he would miss your ceremony to protect.

He sees the sadness in your face and feels sorry for you. “It is you, y/n.”

“Me?” butterflies flutter in your stomach, “how is hiding on an island and missing one of the most important ceremonies of my life ‘protecting’ me? Protecting me from what?” you’re so confused, and ready to solve this mystery once and for all.

“From me.” He states, his pupils morph into slits and his green eyes glow even darker.

You hear his breaths become raggedy as he starts backing away from you into the darkness.

“Protect me? From you? Lo’ak...” you chase after him. 

“Y/n, go home.” He walks away from you, climbing back up the tree.

You’re not taking no for an answer this time as you’re on the verge solving this mystery. You climb up the tree behind him, getting a whiff of rain and leather hide mixed together. You look around to see if it’s raining, and to your surprise it’s not. All you can see is the bioluminescence of the flora around you.

“No, tell me Lo’ak. What is it? I’m not leaving until you tell me!”. You catch up to him and tug on his tail, “seriously Lo’ak, I thought we were close, but I guess I was wrong.” your voice lowers into a whisper.

His face grimaces, you can see the hurt in his eyes from what you just said to him. This, on top of the very little self-control he has left makes him snap at you, “I’m in rut, okay? Are you happy? You should go, I can really feel it now.”

He makes his way further up the tall tree, with you following closely behind him. “Lo’ak! Rut? You mean the thing that we learned from Mo’at about the na’vi cycles?”

“No shit, y/n.” he hisses.

“I didn’t know you got yours already, I’m still waiting for mine.” You whine, a bit jealous that he got his first.

How does this boy climb so quickly? You’re panting, at this rate.

He stops abruptly, pulling you aside onto the large branch that he’s standing on. You look at him intently, the beads of sweat on his forehead drip onto his chest, which is glowing under the night sky. Big green saucers for eyes look back at you, as he takes your hand in his.

“I have spent my last three ruts alone, on this island, by myself. Each of those ruts, I had something planned with you and had to make up an excuse so that I wouldn’t hurt you. When I’m in this state, I’m delirious, completely out of control. I have these... urges, that I can’t stop, and with the way I feel about you... I – I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself back. So, I come here, with the help of my father, and hide for the three days that it lasts.”

That was a lot to unpack. For a minute, you’re speechless, just registering and processing all that he just said to you.

How he feels about me? Urges? Three days? Doesn’t rut usually last a day, at most? You had so many questions, but nothing was coming out.

You may be a bit slow, but you are no fool. As the puzzle pieces together, it dawns on you that he has feelings for you, and to protect you from the animalistic... sexual, urges, he locks himself far away from you. How romantic.

He looks at you for a while, waiting for a response, to be met with nothing. He scoffs, drops your hand, and looks away, “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. Go home, y/n.” he starts making his way towards the trunk of the tree.

“Wait!” you grab his arm and pull him towards you. “I, I – I have these feelings too, Lo’ak. I’ve had them for some time now. Every time you flaked, I felt stood up. I’ve been waiting for you to choose me, first.” you look away, shyly.

“Y/n. Are you saying that you want to be my mate?” he grips both your arms, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Yes. I’ve always wanted to be your mate, Lo’ak.” You whisper, as if other people could hear your confession.

He can’t help but smile at you, searching your eyes to see if you’re being honest. He swallows his spit, and glances down at your lips. You notice this, and glance at his lips, too. The tension in your chest is intense, it feels like knots in your heart. He inches closer and closer to you, close enough for you to hear his quick heartbeat. His lips crash into yours, hungry and inexperienced.

Not knowing what you’re doing either, you kiss him sloppily, using your tongue to explore his mouth, your teeth clinking together. Both of you reeked of desperation. All these years, you’ve looked at your relationship with him as unrequited love – a girl who settled to be his best friend. Unbeknownst to you, he’s felt the same way about you this entire time.

This is what the sky people would call ‘making out’ it seems. His tongue wraps around yours, much like his arms wrap around your waist. He’s never touched you like this before, in fact, no one has ever touched you like this before. You’re so nervous that he picks it up.

He pulls away from your lips, “What is it? Is this, okay?” He pants, trying to catch his breath.

“Yes... it’s nothing. I’ve just never done this before. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” you too, are panting and trying to catch your breath.

“It’s okay, me too. We’ll learn together, just like we do everything together” he smiles before he leans back in and kisses you excitedly.

His hands explore your body, in places he’s never touched before. They make their way up and down your back, and then around to your breasts. He brushes past them, unintentionally flicking your nipples that peak through the thin cloth on your chest. A soft moan escapes your mouth into his, as you flinch from his touch.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, breaking the kiss.

“No, it felt good. Keep going” you demand, kissing him back.

His hands work further down, past your stomach, down to your lower thighs. Your body moves on its own, rolling and whining to dance with his hands. At this point, he is groaning too, allowing his own body to succumb to his ‘urges’.

You start kissing his neck, and make your way down to his collarbones, caressing the dip in them with your tongue. He closes his eyes, savouring the pleasure that he’s feeling, breathing in your natural scent. The bulge in his loincloth becomes more and more visible, something you’d never seen before. You were curious to see how it feels, if it was really as stiff as they make it seem to be.

You allow your hand to move slowly down his stomach, playing with his belly button on the way down. You cup his bulge, squeezing gently, trying to feel the shape of his member. He jerks slightly, from the sudden touch of his most sensitive area. Soft moans evade his mouth, while he lets his hands move from your thighs to the soft flesh between your legs. You gasp for air as he rubs your most delicate area.

“Whoa. You’re really wet, y/n” he says, making an innocent observation.

“And you’re actually rock-hard” you look up at him, surprised.

His vision becomes hazy, and his heart starts thumping. He tries his best to fight the feeling, and continue to have this moment as himself, but his rut is proving to make that difficult. He lets go of you and takes a deep breath while stepping back.

Did I do something wrong?

“Y/n. My rut. I can’t fight it anymore. We should really stop here.” He says through clenched teeth and furrowed brows.

“Then don’t.” you say, stepping towards him, grabbing his hand.

“Don’t?” he shakes his head, confused and foggy.

“Don’t fight it, Lo’ak. I am here now, and if we are destined to be mates...” you stroke his queue with your other hand, “then is it not my duty as your mate to be with you, now more than ever?”

“Yes. But you don’t understand, y/n. This is not my first rut. I – I can’t control it. No matter how hard I try, it is insatiable. I don’t want to hurt you, especially during our first time...” He takes another step back.

“I want it. I’ve been wanting this. I am ready, Lo’ak. Besides, you owe me for all those times that you stood me up” You giggle, lightening the mood. You cup his face and stare deep into his dark green eyes. “I trust you.”

He shakes his head, “Agh. Okay. But you must listen to me and do exactly as I say, y/n.”

“I’ll do anything you tell me to do.” You look up at him, smirking.

He takes your hand and hurries all the way up to top of the tree, where his hide out rests. There is a woven mat, food, water, and other necessities. It’s nestled among several branches that veer off in all directions. It really looks something like a prison; it saddens you to know he had been dealing with this while you were upset at him for not showing.

He quickly packs his bag with some supplies and food and calls for his ikran who is resting, quietly hidden in the canopy.  There is a great sense of urgency in him, as the height of his rut is fast approaching. You both mount his ikran, and you sit comfortably between his legs. He steers the ikran with one hand, and wraps his other hand tightly around your waist. You soar through the sky towards a small hill deep in the thick of the jungle.

“Should you be flying in this state? Where are we even going?” you ask curiously.

“I’m alright for now. We’re going to a sacred place that my father showed me once. He said to me ‘if for some reason you are lucky enough to mate with someone, bring them here to impress them.’” he chuckles. “Perks of having your father be Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, I guess.”

So, the rumor is real. Huh.

The landing is rough, probably due to Lo’ak’s foggy state of mind. He disconnects his queue from his ikran and dismounts him. You hop off on your own, taking in the view. This hidden, sacred place leaves you breathless. The flora glowed in the night sky, as the waterfalls burble into the large, crystal-clear lake. Vines and panopyra dominate the woodland, wrapping around and hiding between the shrubs and trees. Even Lo’ak was glowing before you, hazy eyed.

Woodsprites float like jellyfish, surrounding Lo’ak, and then you, bringing the two of you closer together. “Does this mean that we are destined to be?” you ask, jokingly.

“Maybe.” He says, seriously, taking his queue and holding it in front of him. “Are you sure you want this?”

You take your queue and hold it in front of you, looking at the tendrils dancing before you. “Yes, do you want this?” you bring your queue closer to his.

“Yes. Definitely, yes.” Your queues come together, creating a spark that only the two of you can feel.

Your eyes dilate, ears lay flat, and your lips part ever so slightly – you are both connected through tsaheylu now. You feel his breath, his heartbeat, his rut. It feels like a deep sensation of sheer frustration, not only sexual, but a craving for a deeper, emotional connection, expressed through sex. Your tail sways back and forth as the feeling travels through every inch of your body.  

Do you feel it?

You’re taken aback by his voice in your head. You swore you didn’t see his lips move. You look at him, really concerned that you’ve gone mad, searching his eyes for an answer.

“Tsaheylu makes it so that we can hear each other’s thoughts.” He speaks.

Like this, my pretty girl.

You smile at him, embracing your mate.

Now we are mated, before Eywa. Your chest gets hot.

For life. He kisses you passionately.

Read part II & III here:

Part II:

Part III:

Special Episode I:

[max-the-many]

'body a day #2' day 8: weapons

When I saw them standing infront of me a shiver ran down my spine. I really could do anything with them.

Dunno what hit me, taking those four in. And with that I'm not talking about those military hunks.

It was on a rainy night several weeks ago, when I stood on my back porch, looking out to the night sky when I sensed some motion. I stepped out, barefoot through mudd and weed until I found the source of it, a big black slug that I quickly found 3 more of. At first I was rather repulsed, but as I watched them moving it almost looked like they tried to look at me, lift their front, although I couldn't make out eyes.

I got more and more curious up to the point where I lifted the first one up which easily covered my whole palm. Again, it was calm, 'looking' up to me.

Eventually I took them all in, watched them all night until I dosed away. I was fascinated! And as I woke up, having them snufgle by my side, I almost felt like some kind of attachment.

So the days went bye, they stayed at my place, keeping me company while I never saw them eating.

At some point I had to leave as my job was due, traveling to advertise for a tech-company and as thosw creatures seemed so familiar at that point I decided to take them with me.

Calm as ever on the trip I noticed some change as we arrived at a motel. I didn't know, what it was, but they seemed to get restless, moving around the room, lifting their front part as if they were sniffing. I figured, they were exploring the new surrounding, but somehow I got the feeling that it was more than that.

Eventually I felt bad for shutting them in as they constantly circled back and forth at the door. With a slight fear of them leaving for good I opened the door and just like that they went out.

"Take care" I said quietly as I shut the door, hoping for them to come back. I really don't know what it was as we didn't interact very much. But their company was so calming, their gentle presence, the fact, that they wanted to stay with me in a weired way.

But everythings gotta end, I thought, as I prepared to go to bed.

I couldn't really sleep ä, though, thinking of the time past, the encounter, those strange creatures only remotely resembling slugs, beeing a multiple of those I knew in size on top of that.

And as my thoughts went on I noticed a shadow at the window. A silhuette standing there pretty much motionless. I stood up, getting closer, getting worried as it turned out to be a guy, looking between the curtains without any movement, standing there topless looking pretty well built.

I got nervous as the motel was rather secluded. What did he want! And on top of that, there seemed to be more besides him. Did they want to harm me? Break into my room even? But then, why was he shirtless? He even was glistening from the slight rain he probably walked through.

Nothing happened for long minutes making me more and more nervous.

"What do you want?" I eventually said through the closed door. But nothing. Just some very slight brushing sounds against the door, which I wasn't sure if I really heared them at all.

After more minutes a second guy appeared at the window, looking in, beeing topless and muscular aswell.

I repeated my question, but still nothing happened until I decided to open the door, sliding on the little chain to keep it from fully opening.

"What do you want!? I asked again to a third guy that appeared at the door, clothed like the others, also pretty sporty, looking like some mitlitary guy as I could see him wearing one of those classic army shorts.

But again, he just looked at me quietly, eventually lifting his hand. It almost seemed like some kind of pet behaviour, like a cat, very gently asking to come in. And suddenly it hit me, the crazy thought that those guys, those looks, somehow reminded me of... the creatures! There even seemed to be four guys in total as far as I could tell.

It didn't take long from that point that I just couldn't resist the urge of finding that out. As creepy as it was to have those half naked, muscular guys luring infront of my motel room at night in the middle of nowhere I just had to let them in.

So I clised the door to release the chain and ss I opened it again those guys came in quietly, looking at me as they looked before with me having next to no doubt, that in some unexplainable way those guys looked at me like those creatures did, their presence feeling just like those slugish pals I grew to feel so familiar with.

"Are you..." I started, unable to find a word to discribe my sluggish friends "...them"

And with that one of them opened his mouth, letting out a raspy voice as if he answered, leaving me with the strong feeling of a "yes"...

[emeritusemeritus]

Can I request studying with GoF twins for a new project they’re working on? Like with witty or flirty remarks before they start getting carried away? Just some fluffy young love. It sounds nice

You know GOF twins is my weak spot, that long hair has me drooling every time 🖤

Warnings: flirty banter, implied sexual remarks, mentions of underwear, teasing. More than friends, not quite lovers. Georgie is beautiful when he blushes. Fred has no chill.

Words: 1k

Questions Questions.

It's Saturday evening in the Gryffindor common room and for once it's pretty quiet, with most of the students third year and up still at Hogsmeade. Naturally, the twins and you had crept out earlier that morning through the passageways you knew like the back of your hand to Zonkos, before the rush of the school trip began. They needed some things for whatever they were working on, a new invention they were excited about, something you were trying to help them with.

It was peaceful now, the fire roaring, the proximity between you and the twins. You'd been best friends for years, practically since the moment you stepped onto the Hogwarts Express for the first time and it was no secret that you'd gotten a little closer with the twins over the years, your relationship changing as you got older.

"Can you invent anything that makes Ron's robes look not-nauseating to the female population?" You joke, leaning across to watch Fred's nimble fingers messing about with the contraption he was building. Fred pauses, letting out a belly laugh and George giggles along, face scrunching up in the cutest way.

"Ha! 'Fraid not princess," Fred says with a smirk, getting back to work whilst George makes some notes on a piece of parchment.

"What are you wearing?" George asks, briefly looking up at you, over your body, before jotting something down with his worn down pencil.

"George Weasley! You can't ask a lady that!" You say with a smirk, knowing that pointing out the secondary meaning of his words would rile him up. It works almost instantly, his cheeks heating up to a beautiful pink colour that you take great pride in. Fred snorts out a laugh, flicking his eyes between your delighted face and his brother's blush whilst he tinkers.

"So," Fred drawls out, voice dropping to dangerously flirty whisper. "What are you wearing?" He winks, looking at you up and down as if he had Mad-eye's magic eye to see under your clothes. You can't help but smile at him, his effortless boyish charm always flowing in abundance when he teased.

You raise one eyebrow, testing him and he simply smiles back with a little shrug.

"You said George, gotta be more specific princess."

You laugh along, nudging him slightly on the shoulder, the two of you sharing a little moment as your eyes fix on each other.

"I meant to the Yule Ball," George says quietly, still recovering from his little faux-pas. You turn to George and give him a little smile, always the sweet one.

"Oh I don't know yet," you answer honestly. Truthfully you hadn't really given it much thought, what with the tournament, your homework and helping them with their business, both the inventions and the gambling.

"Not got a date?" Lee pipes up behind you, appearing from over Fred's shoulder as he throws himself down onto the sofa next to George.

"Shove off Lee," you laugh, fixing him with a little mock glare.

"She's got two," Fred says proudly, his smile wide even though he doesn't actually look up from his work. Lee is called away only a few minutes later by someone in the second year and he leaves the three of you alone again, huddled close in the corner by the fire.

"I'm sure whatever you wear you'll look great," George says shyly, "I mean you look great all the time."

"Especially in that sundress," Fred chimes in, mentioning the dress you'd worn the last time you were at the Burrow in the summer. Both Fred and George had commented multiple times about their approval of the dress.

"Well unfortunately for you both, that dress and my yule ball dress are staying on. Guess you'll just have to imagine my underwear Eh Georgie?"

Fred let's out another boyish laugh and George blushes again, smiling to himself.

"So what are you actually working on?" You ask, realising that you didn't actually know what he was crafting, somehow missing the memo on this future prank.

"Never mind that, what colour's your underwear?"

"Fred!" George chastises his twin, even though he's laughing too.

"Red," you reply causally, watching carefully from the side of your eye to see their reaction.

Fred is rendered speechless, something you've never seen before and you're pretty sure you could see a blush forming underneath his drooping bangs, though he tries to hide it. George's mouth had transformed into a little 'o' which he fights to hide pretty quickly and to make matters worse you shoot him a little wink, which brings back the colour to his cheeks.

You sit for a while, falling into a comfortable silence, the three of you working on your divided tasks. You notice Fred wafting his long hair out of his face for the third time in an minute and decide to help him out.

"You'll never see anything like that, come here," you say, twisting around on the sofa and reaching up to gather his hair in your hand. It's soft and smooth, the perfect length for a small ponytail, even the slightly shorter front bits gather nicely until the hair obstructing his view is all out of his face.

He flashes you a thankful smile and for a moment it takes your breath away. Merlin he's gorgeous.

"You gonna plait mine next?" George teases, pulling you away from your focused gaze until you glare at him playfully. Only when you turn around do you notice that Lee has joined you all again, dropping some coins into the briefcase, having apparently been selling.

"Feeling left out Georgie? I'm thinking pigtails for you," you joke, earning a mock laugh from George but his sweet smile after let's you know he enjoys the playful banter. "Actually, please let me," you add with a pleading look in your eyes, actually wanting to get your hands on his hair.

"Only if you tell me something," he barters, smirking at you. You frown but nod anyway.

"Does your bra match your underwear?" He asks casually, as if he was asking for the time. He gives you the cheesiest smile he can and you burst out laughing at his supposed 'payment'. Fred bursts out with another laugh, completely ignoring the thing he was trying to construct as he throws his head back with a laugh.

"Rotten boys," you mumble, looking between the two giggling twins, never more thankful that this is your life.

[lostinlewis]

Lewis didn’t win but maybe he deserves some consolation sex? A little cheering up for missing out on the podium 🥺

Lets give him it, with a twist hehe... Part One 🤍

Words: 2.5k

Mature.

You were two wines deep and onto your third when something out of your hotel room window caught your attention; Lewis. It wasn’t just any Lewis, it was a Lewis clad only in a white towel hung dangerously low on his hips, a Lewis that’s skin glowed with the moisture from the warm shower he had just taken, a Lewis that tempted you with every fibre of your being to give into your wants, to put aside your stubborn insistence that the two of you could never spend the night together, a Lewis that you were convinced, somehow, knew that you could see him in this moment. 

He paraded in front of the window, his phone in one hand, his braids in another, and all you could do was watch him. You were doing quite well to contain yourself really, sure you felt the tingle, the ache for him, but the feeling was simmering quietly within you, that was until he pressed one arm on the window and gave you the most perfect view of the V lines that decorated his waist as he took in the view below the hotel. 

Many a moment you had watched those V lines hung between your thighs as he drove into you, many a time you had traced the lines with kisses as you teased him to the point of frustration, before you took him in your mouth. It was those moments you missed in your tipsy state, it was them that you craved.

Reaching into your luggage you found what had fast become your best friend on trips away for work; your rose. Laying back on the bed, you pulled your shorts down just enough to allow for free space for pleasure, knowing that what you were about to do was wrong, a violation almost, but what Lewis didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?

Lewis didn’t move from his position, posed perfectly against the window as if he knew his image was spurring on your pleasure in that moment. You studied every inch of his skin as if it was new to you, your eyes drew the outline of every ab, tracing down the veins that popped so violently out of his skin. The memories of many illicit moments spent with him only helped to paint a full picture of exactly what you wished he was doing to you right now.

So caught up in the moment you were that you didn’t react for a second when the man you were staring at in the window across from you suddenly lifted his head. A second is a very long time when you are in the midst of being caught in your most vulnerable of moments, but the minute you realised, when you felt his gaze lock onto yours, you bit hard down on your lip with a mixture of nerves and excitement. 

Leaving you little time to react, your phone began to buzz on the bed next to you, Lewis’ name flashing up on the screen as if to cement the fact he had caught you and now you had to face the consequences. 

“Baby…”

His voice was gruff, deeper than usual, his words drawn out to leave the anticipation of what was to come hanging in the air around you, the tension almost suffocating you for all breath in your body. 

“Lewis, I-” 

“Stop. Come closer to the window for me, sit at the end of the bed.” 

There was something about the command in his voice that made it so you were powerless to refuse. Standing up sheepishly, you moved towards the end of the bed just as he had told you to. 

“Take them off.” 

“What?”

“Before you sit down, take your shorts off.”

You didn’t argue back, yet he could tell by the way in which you were so slow to follow orders that you wanted to fight it. 

“Don’t pretend you’re shy now, baby. Just yesterday you had my dick in your mouth in the paddock, if I was not mistaken you have a little exhibitionsit kink in you, don’t you?”

No words left your lips, not because he was wrong, no words left your lips because you had never been one to admit to your kinks, especially not to a man who was nothing more than just a great fuck to you. 

Your shorts dropped to your ankles, stepping out of them you felt exposed. The game you were playing was very dangerous, not only was the hotel full with other visitors, those very same visitors worked with you both, some of those visitors were in positions to make sure the whole world found out about this game. 

As you sat back on the end of the bed, lifting your feet up to the mattress, you granted Lewis a view he would never forget, a sight that you hoped would flash through his mind every time he saw you at the factory, a glimpse of the palace he hoped to be buried in that night; if only the race had gone a different way. 

“Even from here, I can see how wet you are, baby. You liked what you could see, huh? Did it feel naughty watching me as you touched yourself?” 

You nodded your head in response, your heavy breathing doing the talking for you. 

“Words baby, I want to hear your words.” 

“Yes, Lewis. So naughty but you looked so good, too good…” 

The words you strung together were barely an intelligible response, yet the breathy groan you heard on the other side of the phone told you of how much he enjoyed it nevertheless. 

“Carry on, I won’t stop you…” 

A rush of excitement ran through your body as you reached for your toy, you knew what you were about to do was risky, but the thought of that man, Lewis Hamilton, watching you pleasure yourself to the thought of him, made it so impossible to not. 

“Spread those thighs wider, let me see it all.” 

It was as Lewis watched you place the rose on your clit, as he saw the way in which your head fought to fall back with pleasure but your need to look at him won, that he rewarded you with a sight you would never forget. 

Letting the towel drop to the floor, Lewis took his dick in his hand, slowly he began to stroke himself to the sight of you too. 

“Tell me how you feel, baby.” 

HIs voice was breathy now, a little moan ended his sentence, one that if the room wasn’t deadly silent but for the vibration sound between your thighs, you might have missed. 

“So good…so so good…” 

“More, tell me exactly how that toy is making you feel.” 

“It feels like you, it feels like your tongue flicking my clit, it feels just the way your lips feel when you wrap them around it to suck on it…” 

There was a breathy chuckle from the other end of the phone now, his ego had been stroked just as well as his dick had. 

“It isn’t as good as me, baby, do you know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because when I am between your thighs there is no fight in you that can keep your eyes open, no strength that will stop you from moaning out into the air.”

As if your body was controlled by his words, you felt a bolt of pleasure shoot up at you, letting out the most unintentional of moans in response. 

“You thought about it, didn’t you? You remembered a few months ago, when we found ourselves in the debrief room after hours and how I just couldn’t stop myself from eating your pussy right there on the desk…” 

Another moan left your lips now, a pattern was very quickly forming and judging by the heavy breathing you could hear from Lewis, he was certainly enjoying it too. 

“Want me to come over there and make you cum on my tongue, baby? I can be there in a few minutes.”

“Yes please…”

“Are you going to let me spend the whole night inside of you?”

Another yes almost left your lips, so wrapped up in the pleasure you were, the moment overwhelming you, you almost forgot that deal you had made. 

“But you didn’t win…”

The groan he let out now was more one of frustration, he had come so close to getting what he wanted, yet even as he hypnotised you with endless waves of pleasure, you were too stubborn to give into him. 

“Fine. But nothing is going to stop me from making you cum right now.” 

Was he challenging you? Was he taunting you? Did he hope that when you realised that he didn’t even need to be in the room with you to grant you your high, that you would give in and invite him over? He didn’t know you very well, afterall. 

“What if I refused to cum, Lewis? You can’t control me from all the way over there.” 

This chuckle was louder now, more telling, he found your words funny, pathetic almost. There was nothing you could do to match his competitive nature, you just didn’t realise it yet. 

“I am going to count down from ten, and when I reach zero, you are going to cum for me, you are going to cum so hard that you will never want to touch yourself alone again.”

“Okay, Lewis…”

Your tone was mocking too, although a tiny part of you knew that he lived to amaze you, a tiny part of you worried that he might just win. 

“Ten…is your throat still bruised from my dick hitting it yesterday? Can you still taste me?”

If that was all he had, you knew there was no way that he was going to get what he wanted within the next few seconds. You shook your head in response, but this time he was quite satisfied with that answer.

“Nine…you have such perfect lips, so full, your mouth is almost as inviting as your pussy is.” 

It was the praise, the words of adoration, that made you crumble a little. You were powerless to withhold the little moan you let out as your clit throbbed against the rose; the first sign of an orgasm nearing. 

“Eight…Oh you like it when I tell you how perfect you are, huh? You were made for me, your body, your pussy, built solely to take my dick, your warm wet walls wrapped so tightly around my dick, we fit together so perfectly.” 

HIs words were mixed with groans now too, his sentences a little scattered. You could see that his strokes had picked up pace, that the vein in the forearm that was against the window popped prominently, a sure sign that he was tensing against his own undoing now. 

“Seven…I wish you could feel how much my dick is aching for you. You know, since we have been…well since we have been fucking…I can no longer pleasure myself.” 

“You can’t?”

“Six…No, baby. Nothing feels half as good as you do, your hand, your mouth, your pussy, it doesn’t matter what you use, I can never make myself feel as good as you do.”

“Mmm, Lewis…”

Hearing him adore you with words so raw, a voice so breathless to match, made you teeter so dangerously close to the edge of pleasure it was impressive. 

“Five…Fuck baby, not being able to touch you is torture for me.”

“I know, I feel it too…”

“Four…You do? Stop being so stubborn, let me come over there and make you cum over and over again.”

“N-no…we can’t…”

“Three…We can’t? You don’t want my lips wrapped around your clit? You don’t want to feel me fuck you through an endless stream of orgasms as you scratch scars into the skin of my back?”

“I do…It’s just…shit Lewis, I want to, it’s just…” 

“Two…You’re scared that if you let me in anymore it will ruin it? Baby all I want to do is make you feel good.”

Every word of his struggled to rise above the groans now, he was so very close, and so were you. No longer did you care about the game you were playing, nor did you care if you lost. Within the space of 9 seconds, Lewis had done exactly as he promised and brought you to the very peak of orgasm. 

“One…I raced for you today, you know. Every inch that pushed me to drive fast was the need to spend the night with you. Not just to fuck you, to be with you, to wrap my arms around your naked sweaty body when we finally give into sleep in the middle of the night, to listen to you dream peacefully in a state that only I can keep you in.”

“Lewis, I-”

“Zero…Don’t fight it, cum for me…let me watch you cum…” 

His permission was all you needed to finally reach your peak, so unabashed with your moans, you threw your head back into the bed as your body arched off of the bed and your thighs closed around your hand, the muscles shaking uncontrollably as your body rode what felt like the longest of highs. 

So wrapped up in your own orgasm, you missed his. Lewis came as you came, groaning to the sounds of your ecstasy as he released onto the carpet below him - a problem he would deal with later. 

“So…I won.”

The smugness of his voice interrupted the silenced state of ecstasy you both rode, rudely in fact. 

“Does it count if you came too? Technically, we both won that one.” 

You teased him back as you put your shorts back on, being brought back to reality by his words, you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were exposed to the world - your world, at least. 

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” 

Lewis asked as he sat down on the end of his own bed now, the towel back around his waist to grant him some dignity. 

“I am about to finish this glass of wine in the bath, before I fall asleep to a random documentary on tv and wake to my alarm at some ungodly hour tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds fun, you sure you don’t want some company?”

“Goodnight, Lewis. See you at Spa next week.” 

“You are so stubborn, baby. Goodnight.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.” 

“Before you go, I have a question…” 

“Okay…” 

“The deal we made yesterday, that if I win I get you for a whole night, let’s make it last the whole season?” 

“You really think you are going to win in that wheelbarrow this year?” 

“It’ll be tough, sure, but knowing you are my reward at the end might be the edge I need to get it over the line.”

“Goodnight Lewis. Good luck in Spa, you’ll need it.”

“Goodnight, baby. Prepare to see a lot more of me next weekend.” 

[hockeyandhrsepwr]

Life Lessons: The Intro

Fresh of a world tour, y/n l/n announces her next album.....

Life Lessons Masterlist

yourusername

liked by fan28, user0929 and others

yourusername Life Lessons. Coming soon.

view all comments

fan1 askkskakskwek

fan39 new music?! ahhhhh

fan37 babe the cover pic?! who hurt you

usert882 When??

yourusername soon:)

Notes

Notes pop star y/n l/n announces new album: Life Lessons. To learn more about the album, check out our conversation with the young talent at this link

What’s next for y/n?

By Michelle F.

July 20, 2023

On the eve of y/n l/ns final date for her sold out world tour, I receive a phone call. It’s an invitation to the show in Paris La Defense Arena, and the opportunity to speak to y/n about what’s coming next for the pop sensation. A no brainer really. I’ve been following y/ns journey pretty much since she came onto the scene and to hear that she personally requested me to speak to? That was a shock but an absolute honour. So I hop on the Eurostar and make my way to the City of Love, Lights and Dreams. 

 A mere three hours later I’m waiting in the wings as Y/n takes the stage to a deafening crowd. The Monaco native cracks a joke in french, later translated as a slight dig at the French but all in good fun. The performance is electric as y/n performs tracks from her first three albums, all of which took the world by storm and dominated charts. One of my favourite shows that I’ve been to in a while.  Keep reading to hear more about our conversation after the show. 

Michelle: Hi y/n! That was an incredible show!

Y/n: Oh thank you Michelle, youre too kind. 

M: How does it feel, being onstage and performing for that large of a crowd? Tonight’s was pretty big but not the largest of your tour, correct?

Y: I think we had a few bigger, but it’s hard to explain. This is something I’ve dreamed of for my entire life so even though its nerve wracking, I know that I’m where I want to be. This tour has been pretty eye opening! Tonight was special though! I’ve been to many a concert in those stadium with my friends, since it was the closest major arena to Monaco so we could just hop on a train and see our favourite artists and make a girl trip out of it. 

M: That sounds so fun! This was your first tour headlining, what did you find was the biggest difference between that and opening? You opened for Ed Sheeran on his tour after the release of your second album and now for your third youre headlining.  

Y: besides people being here mostly to see me, not someone else, longer sets is the biggest difference. But i’m working with lots of the same crew that worked on the tour with Ed so it’s been pretty epic!

M: So the big question, what’s next?

Y: well….I might have something coming soon. 

M: oh, do tell! A new album?

Y: I guess I can tell you :) My next album, Life Lessons, will be releasing pretty soon. 

M: tell me everything? When are we looking at release? What’s it all about? Track names?

Y: haha, no definite date yet, but it will be soon (she winks). As for what it’s about, life. It’s been about three years in the making, so the lessons that I’ve learned over the past three years. Track names you’ll find out along with everyone else haha 

M: I guess I can accept that. Three years? How so?

Y: well, its a series of songs that I’ve written over the past 3 years at varying points and finally decided, you know what, lets release them and see what people think. 

M: will it be similar to your previous albums, stylistically, or will we see something more than the indie pop sound we’ve come to know from you?

Y: Everything really. my usual (she air quotes) sound, but some songs with slightly different vibes. There may even be a few country inspired.

M: Country’s a new genre for you. Are you a big fan normally?

Y: oh absolutely. Its nowhere near as popular here in Europe, but my granddad is from Georgia so I grew up with it in the house. When I was putting all the lyrics to music, a few of them I wanted to have a country feel, so I reached out to few friends and got opinions and everyone loved it. I decided that I dont mind if my fans dont love those songs, this album is for me. I hope they do, of course, but it is a different genre than my normal so I’d understand if they dont vibe with them as much as my other songs. 

M: Speaking of friends, any co-writers or collaborators on this album? You recently had a track with your ex boyfriend Noah Kahan on his album. Is he returning the favour?

Y: ha, nope. This one is all me. My producer and best friend, Bella, and my tour band helped with laying down the tracks, but lyrics are all me. 

M: well I’m excited. And sorry to bring it up, but your realtionship with Noah, did that provide any inspiration for the album? 

Y: yes, but probably not in the way people will be expecting. Noahs great though. We were great friends before our fling started and we’ve stayed good friends after. We all have those moments right, where we think that trying to be more is a good idea. He’s an incredible guy though. 

M: So does the album follow any kind of order? 

Y: Somewhat chronological over the period but nothing concrete. 

M: well y/n I hope our readers feel the same but I can’t wait!! I’ll be impatiently waiting for the release. Thank you again for taking to time to talk to me today. Enjoy the little break you’ll have!!

Y: thanks Michelle, I’m sure well talk soon!

Get excited readers,  this album is going to be special. 

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

One does not joke about the Bodleian (BR) Pt. I - A modern Gwynriel One-Shot

In this first part of my next little mini-series, Gwyn and Az face each other as academic rivals in a university setting. I hope you like it :)

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none

Gwyneth Berdara never thought she’d say this, but if she has another coffee, her brain will explode with a 87% probability.

She knew she should have consumed her first cup exactly 90 minutes after waking up, like her professor and podcast-god Dr. Huberman told her to, but something about her roommates blaring the radio at six in the morning had convinced her otherwise. The second cup right after on her way to class hasn’t helped, and the third in-between lectures had her hands shaking and her eyes twitching. Then, the heavy lunch that followed contributed plenty to her tiredness… which left her nervous system frantically switching between wired and close to death.

“Gwyn, some space please.”, a slightly annoyed voice from beside her commanded, pushing a stray note back into her periphery. Gwyn grabbed the piece and stuck it to whatever folder she held in her hand – genomics – before returning the heavy study material to her backpack.

“Sorry, Em, but I can’t seem to find the assignment.”, she murmured, leafing through the stacks of paper in front of her and resolutely refusing to adhere to her friend’s command. The prestigious and extremely well-funded university of Oxford liked their students to hand in printed assignments in addition to electronic ones. Apparently, they liked to pretend they were still in their founding century.

Emerie leaned into her field of view completely which left Gwyn to examine her friend’s scalp instead of her notes. “I’ve literally just seen the thing.”

“Aha!”, a triumphant Emerie sat back up, the missing assignment held up in victory. “Now you can collect yourself another 95% and the cry about the five missing-“

Emerie was rudely interrupted, Gwyn’s assignment ripped straight out of her hands. “Jack!”

With a grin that showed more teeth than friendly banter, Jack Irwin leaned back in his chair behind them, the pieces of paper completely out of reach for both women.

“I will be holding these hostage until you finally set a date to go out with me like you promised.”, his deep and honeyed voice explained, eyes boring into Gwyn’s bright teal ones like that might elicit a nice response. Beside her, Emerie sighed out a long breath, anticipating the everlasting and borderline painful conversation that was about to start.

Just like it did every week around this time.

“Jack, keeping me from my assignment isn’t going to get you any points in my book.”, Gwyn explained to him slowly, reaching out her hands for him to hand it over. If he behaved like a toddler, she’d treat him like one.

Jack pretended to think about that for a second, his bland face scrunched in concentration. “Nope.” The popped ‘p’ grated on Gwyn’s nerves more severely than his smug expression. Why did he have to make every exchange of words so damn difficult? She felt a headache starting between her brows and it wasn’t even two in the afternoon.

“I give you exactly five seconds before you’ll see me empty out my water bottle over your MacBook”, the redhead levelled him a glare, trying to convey the severity of this situation by staring a hole through his useless head. Today really wasn’t the day to test her.

Jack stopped balancing on his chair, leaning over his desk and coming really too-damn-close into her personal space. “It’ll be all worth it if I end up taking you out this Friday.”

“Let it go!”, she snapped, lunging over the table separating them and nearly ripping her assignment in two as she snatched it back, “It won’t happen, no matter how hard you try to guilt-trip or blackmail me.”

She felt more than she saw the atmosphere between them change. Jack’s previously playful and cocky air darkened. His mouth was just about to form a reply when he was thankfully interrupted.

“Good afternoon, class.”

Gwyn turned around with a relieved sigh, shooting an apologetic look at her now crumpled papers. I’m so sorry you were tainted by unworthy hands. For a second, she could have sworn the ink winked at her – that’s when she decided to quit coffee for good.

Her professor had made his way to the front of the small lecture hall, preparing his lesson while students started to file towards him. Emerie and Gwyn soon joined them, checking in on the attendance list, turning in the assignment and dutifully ignoring the dirty looks Jack shot their way. But as Gwyn finished her weekly signature, her gaze snagged on something peculiar.

You see, the lecture and course were so intimate that it was possible to know every student by name. After all, not many were suicidal enough to enroll in Oxford’s biology M.A. program. Therefore, when another student joined the course, people usually noticed immediately. And as Gwyn stared at the table containing their names, her brows drew together in confusion.

Definitely too much coffee.

She snorted to herself, finding her place and slumping back into it next to Emerie.

“I seriously need to watch the caffein.”, she started, leaning over to her friend and lowering her voice, “Can you believe I read one of the names on the attendance list as ‘Azriel’?”

She snickered, not noticing how Emerie had to bite down on a broad smile. “I mean, what kind of person is named like that? An angel? A fucking warrior prince from ancient times that turns into a dragon every full moon?”

In her head, it was kind of funny. And Gwyn would be lying if she didn’t immediately think of her usual, private reading material and all the kinds of things someone named ‘Azriel’ might be up to.

Emerie shrugged, getting her notes and laptop ready for class. “You probably read it wrong. I bet his name is Andy or something.”

Gwyn made a noncommittal noise while copying Em as their professor looked around the room expectantly.

“Has anybody seen a Mr. Hawthorne?”, he called into the void of sleep-deprived students. Some people shook their heads while others just stared back blankly, waiting for him to get on with it and not caring in the slightest for whatever happened with the guy. As Gwyn didn’t know an answer to the professor’s question, she made a mental list of names that ‘Hawthorne’ went with.

Andy Hawthorne sounded weird, the family name too overpowering. Andrew Hawthorne might have a nice ring to it, but then it also gave off a pretentious vibe. Aiden, Alexander – it definitely wasn’t Alexander – maybe Austin? Austin Hawthorne?

The door swung open, interrupting the opening words of the professor as well as Gwyn’s encyclopedia of names. And in the doorway, nearly filling out the whole damn thing, stood the most beautiful man Gwyn did ever see.

“Ah”, the professor noticed him as well, hurrying over to the attendance list as roughly thirty-five pairs of eyes switched their attention on the newcomer, “Azriel Hawthorne, biology M.A.?”

No. Freaking. Way.

The stranger nodded, quickly signing the form and thanking the professor quietly before his gaze fell onto the rest of the class in search for a seat. And Gwyn could have sworn a faint sigh left every female in the room collectively.

His face was carved from the gods. Angular, sharp, symmetrical. Full eyebrows framing the most glowing brown eyes a human ever saw. Dark strands of hair falling onto his forehead while the sides and back were shaven neatly. Muscles – Gwyn had to swallow to save her dry throat from suffering irreparable damage – and more muscles that bunched over his tight black shirt.

And from her place way too high up in the stands, Gwyn had to witness how her classmates flung themselves out of the way to offer him more seats than he could ever place his butt on, even if he switched every time they had the lecture until the end of the semester.

Azriel chose a seat in the second row, nodding his thanks to the blushing blonde who’d nearly sacrificed her friend’s well-being while forcing her to scooch over.

And when he moved to pull out his laptop, Gwyn’s idealist image of a man was complete. He had tattoos covering his whole arms, their inky swirls peeking out from underneath the sleeve.

“You haven’t blinked in like a full minute. It’s not healthy.”, Emerie whispered from beside her, amusement shining from her face as she seemed to be the only person with a uterus to not be too phased by his existence. And let’s face it, even some of the guys shot him more than curious glances.

Yet, all Gwyn could do was stare like a total creep, ignoring for the first time since starting university what the professor was lecturing about.

Emerie was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to ramble some kind of justification to conceal her embarrassment. It didn’t come. Gwyn’s brain had suffered a short circuit.

Put simply, the woman was too stunned to speak.

“Oh, Lord save us all.”, Emerie muttered before dutifully turning her attention to the professor. And as her friend concentrated in order to learn about cell biology and signaling, Gwyn was quickly learning that she had a type.

…

“So, what did he do to have all your panties in his power within one lecture?”, Nesta asked Emerie and Gwyn as they met in the cafeteria that evening, exchanging the latest gossip over their pasta. And no other topic was ever more news-worthy than the arrival of Mr. Azriel Hawthorne. In fact, Gwyn was sure it was discussed thoroughly at every single table containing at least one biology student.

“Tell her Gwyn,” Emerie was already laughing beside her, drawing way too much malicious joy from this situation.

Gwyn faced her spaghetti. “Well, he kind of… just walked in, took his seat, then left.”

Nesta’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “That’s it? Did he have some magical pheromone perfume? No guy is just that attractive.”

“Who is attractive?”, a booming voice saved Gwyn from further scrutiny. Cass, Nesta’s boyfriends and physiology student, slumped into the seat next to her and delivered a smacking kiss to her cheek. “Talking about me again Nes? You’ll make them jealous!”

Nesta observed him for a moment, her usually harsh eyes turning softer. “Actually, we were discussing the new Adonis gracing Gwyn’s and Emerie’s class. What was is name again?”

But before Gwyn could respond, Cassian interrupted the women with a long-suffering expression. “Please, not you too!”

The girls exchanged a look before turning their full attention on Cass.

“How is every single woman in this whole college obsessed with the guy? He has been here for half a day. Half a day! And I overheard some girls in all of my classes talking about strategies to get him to go out with them.”, he scoffed, angrily assaulting his bread roll with his teeth. “I meam – wats fo cool abowt him?”

Nesta quickly shushed him before he could grace the women with a full view of corroded bread.

“Stop being so butt-hurt. You’re still our number one guy.”, Emerie reached out to pat his hand while he shot her puppy-eyes that clearly spoke of how much he needed to hear that. But for all the love she felt towards Cassian, Gwyn found herself hesitant to agree.

And it was so stupid. She didn’t even know him, only stared at the back of his head for the better part of an hour. Mind you, it was a very nicely shampooed head. But for all she knew, he could be a complete jerk, smelly, aggressive, or even worse – negligent in his studies.

He hadn’t seemed like it in class though, typing away on his computer, eyes never straying from the board. And if that wasn’t the hottest thing about him, Gwyn didn’t know what to think anymore.

With a tad bit of overexcitement, Roslin fell onto the chair beside Gwyn, slamming her tray of food so forcefully it rattled the whole hall. “I’ve got news everyone!”

“Finally Rosi, feed me some fucking gossip that isn’t to do with the biology bloke.”, Cassian leaned towards her, happy now that the center of attention shifted.

Or not.

“Azriel Hawthorne has a girlfriend!”, Roslin exclaimed with wide eyes, causing Cass to fall back on his chair dramatically while Nesta broke out in laughter. But Gwyn wasn’t laughing. Decidedly.

“How do you know?”, she asked, voice lowering into a whisper.

“Well, you know Amy from biochem?”

Gwyn nodded, the faint image of a short haired, petite girl forming in her mind.

“Apparently, she was paired with him for their practicals earlier today. And since she was the first girl to tie him down into a conversation, she wanted to make her move quickly. Asked him out, but he politely declined with that explanation. I just met her in the hallway. She’s mortified.”, Roslin rattled down the story with the speed and intensity of a news-moderator.

And with that information, Gwyn’s excitement exited her body in a big swoop, leaving her mentally and physically exhausted. Which was ridiculous – never in a million years did she imagine herself going up to him, or even talking to him, really. But the daydream was nice while it lasted.

“Amy said he was super nice, though”, Roslin continued while now focusing her attention on her food as well, having delivered the most interesting piece of news, “He pulled out the chair for her. And went to clean her pipette and scales without her asking. Not much of a talker, but very focused on his studies.”

Something shriveled up and died inside Gwyn, and it might have been her hope for a guy who encompassed exactly these qualities. Because how likely was she going to find two of those in a lifetime?

Gwyn stabbed into her pasta with new rigor, willing to bury her emotions with carbs.

And just as she stuffed her face full with them, angrily chomping with sauce getting caught in the corners of her mouth, she heard his voice again.

Right behind her.

Saying her name.

“Gwyneth Berdara?”, the deep and velvety soft voice of Adonis-Azriel Hawthorne filled her ears and before she could just stop herself to think for a second, she already rotated in her chair to stare up at him, face still full of pasta.

“Mhough?”, she choked out, nearly killing herself in her eagerness to engage in a conversation with him. In hindsight, she kind of wished that a piece of pasta went into her respiratory tracks then and there.

Azriel’s gaze flickered from her reddening face to a piece of paper he held clutched in his hand while Gwyn fought the hard battle of chewing as fast as she ever chewed in her life.

“I realize it’s a bad time and I’m sorry to interrupt. But Professor Huberman gave me your name in the hopes you could catch me up on the lecture so far.”, he explained, perfectly reasonable and calmly while the woman in question lived through a serious fight-or-flight response.

She swallowed at last, swiping her hands over her mouth in the hopes to save some of her appearance. But really, what was there to save after a whole day of lectures and seminars?

“That’s absolutely fine.”, Gwyn tried a small smile, praying to the pasta-gods that her teeth were clean, “We can meet up tomorrow after class. I’m free after 4.30 pm.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could just send me your notes via email. I only transferred, so I should know most of the stuff.”, he replied evenly, handing her the piece of paper that held his email address.

So, that went well.

“Oh, sure. That’s fine with me too. Super.”

Super? Who said super?

“Great. See you around then.”, and with a friendly smile directed at everyone at the table, Azriel strode away.

Gwyn’s eyes shut closed for a moment, her head falling into her neck. What was that conversation and how did she manage to fuck it up so completely?

She turned around towards the table again where Emerie already shot her an apologetic look. “Well, if he has a girlfriend anyways, you don’t have to worry about your prospects with him.”

 Gwyn just nodded in a trance. Azriel did in fact smell really good. And he looked even better up close. And he already knew most of the lecture contents for gods sake!

Gwyn was left to ponder her life’s choices, starting with her carb obsession and ending with selecting biology as a major. But she wasn’t the only person shook to her core at the table.

Cassian stared after Azriel, his eyes boring into the back of his head before he blurted out, “Is his bicep bigger than mine?”

…

After some well needed time of consideration, Gwyn decided that she in fact does not have a crush on Azriel Hawthorne.

The compiled list of arguments against his person was long and ever-growing: it started with him having a girlfriend and ended with his stupid dragon-lord name.

The whole thing was a lie, of course. A gentle sort of gaslighting… only against her own conscious. Every day after their encounter in the lecture and cafeteria afterwards Gwyn scolded herself fiercely whenever she daydreamed about him. Imagining him being mean to his girlfriend, kicking a puppy, ripping out pages of a book…it didn’t make him any less attractive objectively, but it helped.

And as she sat her stressed ass down in her lecture seat exactly a week later, she was all but convinced that Azriel Hawthorne was a conniving, dastardly, and arrogant prick who was probably a fuckboy and lived off his daddy’a trust fund. And that he was stupid.

Honestly, it gave her enough peace of mind that she didn’t turn into a puddle beneath the table when he walked in (punctual) while nearly every other girl in this class did.

“Oh, he looks handsome today, doesn’t he Gwynnie?”, Emerie whispered her venom next to her, wiggling her eyebrows in her direction.

“He looks fine.”, Gwyn replied evenly, smiling at Emerie who narrowed her eyes as the unexpected answer, “Actually, his t-shirt looks about two sizes too small. He probably doesn’t know how to do his own washing.”

Or it was the fact that his muscles greatly outnumbered those of all other guys in this class combined.

Her friend didn’t let her off the hook, though. “Did he do something? Last week around this time I had to slip tissue paper on your laptop to keep it from being drooled on.”

But Gwyn just scoffed, mentally scolding herself for her weak moment. She blamed the caffein anyways. “Nope. Never heard from him after I sent over my notes.”

And maybe that was the part that stung, too. Her lecture notes were first class, only second to the ones her professor had himself. Why Mr. I’m-so-bulky-Hawthorne hadn’t been in a hurry to thank her for that, she couldn’t fathom. But if he has the nerve to do better in the exam through using her notes, she’d throw hands.

Emerie made an unimpressed face. “What, not even a thank you?”

“Silence.”

Gwyn made herself busy pulling out her laptop and selecting the right script. Maybe the message didn’t get through – no, it did. He was just an asshole.

And only five minutes until the lecture began, said asshole lifted himself out of his seat and made his way towards Gwyn.

“He’s coming, he’s coming.”, Emerie murmured, repeatedly tapping Gwyn’s thighs as if she hadn’t noticed a six foot something god coming her way.

But it didn’t matter, because he didn’t like him.

“Hey Gwyn.”, Azriel greeted her quietly with a little nod towards Em. He crouched down in front of her table, stabilizing himself with his tattooed arm. Which Gwyn was not looking at.

“Hi.”, she replied, pretending to be busy writing down a note in her diary. Because she absolutely refused to give into his pull.

Azriel observed her for a moment, his eyes tracing her face and hair, before speaking again. “I wanted to come over to thank you personally for your notes.”

Oh.

Gwyn looked up, her pencil suspended above paper, and couldn’t help the small smile that slipped past her lips. “You’re welcome. If you have any questions about them, feel free to ask.”

Adonis smiled back at her, nodding more to himself that to her. “Actually, there was one diagram you drew in your microbiology section that made me pause.”

Gwyn leaned forward, now more than ready to leave all her negative feelings and even her crush for him aside in favor of talking about her favorite topic.

But then he had the nerve to say, “I’m sure it was just a slight oversight on your part, but the order wasn’t right. You might want to correct that before you memorize it wrongly.”

And suddenly, with the intensity of a raging tsunami, all of the previously fake reasons why she didn’t like him became very real.

“I highly doubt that.”, she replied through a clenched jaw, “I only copy the diagrams from the board. They can’t be wrong.”

Azriel smiled at her still, “As I’ve said, it was probably just a blunder. The rest of your notes are okay.”

Okay?

Emerie was the only thing anchoring her to reality as she burst out into a coughing fit next to Gwyn, whose undiluted rage filling every inch of her veins.

“Well, I’m glad I could help.”, all of her strength went into those word. And that she didn’t spew fire with them. Right at his condescending face.

“I owe you a coffee, or whatever you like to drink. Maybe we can do that sometime soon?”, he asked, straightening himself up to his full height again. Gwyn added another con to her list: can’t read the room.

“Sure, sometime.”, she smiled a tight-lipped smile at him as he turned, saved again by the arrival of her professor. Or rather, the professor has unwittingly saved Hawthorne’s ass. An ass which her eyes shot daggers at as she watched him go down the aisle to his seat once more.

Beside her, Emerie tried to school her face into neutrality, forcing the corners of her mouth into balance when Gwyn knew they desperately wanted to jump up.

“Well, at least he’s attentive.” She said evenly, looking her best friend up and down and trying to assess the damage done.

“Attentive.”, Gwyn repeated, practically spewing fire, “arrogant, big-headed, patronizing.”

Emerie nodded, still fighting a losing battle with the corners of her mouth.

Gwyn went on while her professor called up the first slide of his presentation. “Aloof, domineering, tactless.”

“Gwyn Berdara: the pocket-sized Oxford English Dictionary.”, Emerie murmured, pulling up her own notes on her iPad. But Gwyn might as well had earplugs stuffed into her skull. She didn’t hear a word as Dr. Huberman started his lecture, nor did her eyes focus on any of the bullet points.

“Vaid, rude, Azriel.”

[nukitan]

Okay so as much as I dislike conflating Pokémon and Digimon, (they’re two shows that just so happen to be in the same genre and I think the comparisons should stop there. The bad faith ones anyway), how great the new Pokémon anime is has made me think about something.

Basically, I feel like Horizons has a lot of elements that I would love to see in a modern season of Digimon and I think the Digimon anime could take a page from their playbook. Which is funny since up until now I’ve always said the reverse.

Full rant bellow the cut to spare your time lines if you don’t want to read my rambles.

I split them into section going into Digimon first and then Pokémon if you want to skip around and don’t care about the other franchise. BUT, I will say that the point of this essay is that Pokémon Horizons is good, the first three seasons of Digimon are good and if you like one you should watch the other.

Anyway.

First I’m going to go into my history with Digimon and what I liked about the classic seasons and what I don’t like so much about the newer ones.

Basically, I love Digimon. Been hyper fixating on it off and on for twenty+ years. I’ve seen every season, subbed and dubbed multiple times, I’ve played a good chunk of the games, I play the TCG, ect.

Something that drew me to the Digimon anime over AniPoke, was the characters and the plot. In the early seasons Digimon tackled lots of difficult issues like divorce, adoption, death, loss, depression, among other things. But still kept a light hearted, feel good air. The characters felt deep and multi-faceted (At least in the sub), and I dare say are better written than some characters from some adult oriented anime out there. And they had cute monsters that evolved into bigger monsters and fought baddie monsters, what wasn’t there to love? The first three or so seasons did a fantastic job juggling characters, plot, cool creature fights, and cute and funny moments between the members of the cast. It never really felt like a commercial compared to contemporaries. It felt like the writers were creating something with soul, it was a story first and ad second. It felt like it had love.

Adventure, 02, and Tamers are my favorites. Bellow are some characters and their arcs I really enjoyed from those seasons, skip if don’t want spoilers.

I love Taichi’s arc of being reckless, and being one track minded to the point where he put all his friends in harms way and Yamato tries to act like this calm and cool lancer type but he’s actually the group heart and sensitive the way they bounce off each other and have conflicts throughout the series is just fantastic.

Ken in 02 and his whole arc of getting over the death of his brother and accepting the consequences of his actions as the Digimon Kaiser. And the way he slowly warms up to the group is so cute. I legit cried when I watched some of his episodes post kaiser as an adult.

Tamers as a whole is an extensional horror trip. Juri’s whole thing with her depression after the death of Leomon, how it related back to her trauma after losing her mom when she was younger, and the way the D-Reaper took advantage of that- I honestly don’t know how this was slipped into a kids show from the early 2000s.

A lot of these shows that started in the 90s and early 2000s were pledged with the “Glorified 20-25 minute toy ad” problem, and Digimon didn’t really seem to have that issue to me. It felt like the creators were putting the story and characters first, and an ad second or third.

The early seasons of Digimon felt like a celebration of childhood and was something that could be enjoyable to kids of all ages and adults alike. I don’t at all get that feeling that I’m watching a baby show when I watch early Digimon. It presents things in simple terms that kids could understand without talking down to its audience. It’s great.

And then the later seasons happened and Digimon forgot what made it great and lost its soul…

Xros wars was where the ball really seemed to drop in my opinion. Sure it still had the epic Kaiju fights but… that’s about it. Gone were the intense character moments and interesting plots. All we had was the special little marry sue of a boy Taiki who could do nothing wrong besides not “TURNING HIS BACK ON SOMEONE uwu”. And there was no overcoming adversity like in the earlier seasons, Taiki would just epically throw his Xros loader into the air and scream away his problems with a “DIGi-XROS!” (Sorry Taiki fans I can’t conceal my venom for this man)

And the monsters were just disappointing too. Like they were clunky and just looked like… toys.

It felt like Digimon had lost what made it tick and started to more closely resemble what I didn’t like about AniPoke, a toy commercial with a sanitized feel.

This continued for the next couple of seasons, only really picking up again in Appmon, but while Appmon is good and had it’s moments (I love the story with Yujin. He and Haru are totally roommates, cousins even), it still doesn’t compare to the heart the first three to five seasons had, imo.

Tri felt like a soulless nostalgia cash grab. Last Kizuna was good, it gave me hope for the anime again just to crush it all away with The Beginning.

I won’t get started on Adventure 2020 or we’ll be here all day. Needless to say it spat in the face of the show it was paying homage to.

Ghost Game got my hopes up, but then the last episode just took a dump on the rest of the show. It was fun, Kiyoshiro and Jellymon specifically were the stars of the show and GulusGammamon was interesting… until he wasn’t. It was fun, had a lot of potential with its horror feel, and was the closest to classic Digimon the modern seasons had been in awhile… at first anyway. It really shat the bed. And my problem with it don’t really relate to it being episodic in nature or anything, that can be done well. The characters just didn’t feel consistent (Especially Ruli) and it didn’t deliver on any of the plot intrigue it tried to stir up.

BUT! Ghost Game at least had… a little bit of heart. It felt like the creators knew their Digimon lore and did a fantastic job incorporating it into the monster of the week. I could really feel the love there.

Also on a side note, I am not just the Digimon equivalent to Gen-Oner, hating on things that are new and fetishizing the old. In fact, before I rewatched all of the seasons around 2020, I didn’t really care for the Adventure or Tamers. But my opinions did a total flip watching everything as an adult.

So, for a quick collection of thoughts before we move on to Pokémon:

What I like in a Digimon season:

1. Good characters with arcs that tackle bigger issues in a way kids can still understand and relate to without feel like they’re being talked down to.

2. Cute moments between members of the cast and their creatures.

3. Fights that feel like they mean something and aren’t just there for cool flashy effects.

4. A feeling of love and care for the franchise that goes beyond just trying to sell me toys and games.

Things I don’t like:

-OP mcs that solve every problem with the gimmick of the given seasons

-Flat, inconsistent characters that don’t feel like they have any agency or reason for doing what they’re doing besides that fact that they do indeed have Digimon.

-Pointless fights that are just there for no other reason than just to show a cool fight

-“BUY ALL OUR GAMES AND TOYS AT YOUR LOCAL HOBBY SHOP”

Okay now Pokémon.

Just like with Digimon here’s a little background with my history with the Pokémon anime

I’ve watched the original Pokémon anime up to Diamond and Pearl as a kid and I watched some of SM and most of Journey’s as an adult, but I’ve never really been big on anipoke.

Like at best it just felt like a cute show I could turn my brain off for and just vibe.

At worst it felt like a hyper sanitized toy/game commercial (Not blaming it, that was the anime’s main purpose after all).

Out of curiosity, I watched the new series. As much as I liked Ash, I really felt like he overstayed his welcome and they should have gotten rid of him and moved on ages ago since it felt like by DP there was nothing interesting to do with the character. The Pokémon world is huge and intresting, there was so much they could have done but Ash kind of felt like he bogged it down and stunted the anime’s growth past a point.

So yeah,I got excited when they finally pulled the plug and focused on a new set of characters so I gave Horizons a watch.

And I love it! It’s got heart, characters with development, a little bit of plot, and it’s cute? Like I was dumbfounded by the fact that a Pokemon anime, that I previously wrote off as just being a glorified ad, could be so good???

And then after thinking about what I liked so much about it, that’s when the topic of this essay hit me: Horizons feels like it has everything I long for in a modern Digimon anime, almost as if they took a page out of classic Digimon’s book. Like I always heard throughout the years that “Digimon had the better anime Pokemon has the better games” But Horizons really turned that on its head.

Let’s revisit my criteria for what I liked about the classic Digimon seasons from the section above to show what I mean. (Light Spoilers for Horizons ahead, though I wont go into specifics)

1. Good characters with arcs that tackle bigger issues in a way kids can still understand and relate to without feel like they’re being talked down to.

Yep. Horizons has that. Like the early seasons of Digimon, Horizons doesn’t just use it’s human characters as a vehicle to show you all the monsters you could catch if you bought the next game from your local shop for the low low price of 60 USD, nope. There feels like theres care there.

While they aren’t fully developed yet, Liko and Dot especially show huge character growth in the first 50 episodes. They focus on their flaws and how the characters overcome them.

Liko is very indecisive at first. She’s socially awkward, she feels like shes just going with the flow, afraid to take that first step to find out what she really wants out of life. Then, she finally does, she makes the decision to follow Friede and the Rising Volttacklers to find her new horizons. It’s great. And she still has lots of growing she can do later both as a trainer and as a character. She’s fantastic for a lead.

I also like how they use Sprigatito’s evolution as stand in for Liko’s growth so far in the series. Early Digimon did that too with the Crests in Adventure and the Bio Merging in Tamers and I always really like monster partners evolving to reflect their human so much, it’s such a good narrative device!

Dot slowly being brought out of her shell by Liko and the others is just- chefs kiss. She goes from being a reclusive shut in to slowly taking interest in the things Liko and co are doing and develops meaningful relationships with them. Her care for her friends and want to be there for them makes her take the first step and is now traveling around Paldea with them! And they went about this in a very well paced way where she still isn’t just magically over all her awkwardness and shut in tendencies yet. She too still has so much room for interesting development later down the road.

The adult characters are interesting too, even though they haven’t really done much yet. They really perfected that found family group of misfits trope that I’m usually pretty sick of. I love them.

And Amethio and the other villains also feel like they’re more than just your cackling evil for evil sake type characters and I’m super excited to see what they do with them!

And as far as the tackling bigger issues point: Though its just conjecture and I might be over thinking things (Though others in the fandom have pointed this out too) there’s definitely the groundwork for it here.

Liko’s family is very hands off and distant. Liko goes away to boarding school at the start of the series, her parents work, and her grandma is a vagabond traveling the world and doesn’t often stay in one place for long.

Liko lacks solid connections and foundation in her life due to her family being so closed off emotionally, which would explains her going with the flow and being unsure of what she really wants to do. She’s lost with no guidance. And it’s not like her family doesn’t love each other, no. They just don’t want to express their feelings for fear of it bogging each other down. They want Liko to be free to do what her heart tells her, but they’re so worried about talking things out that they don’t realize how that freedom has hurt Liko and made her into an anxious mess. (They even kind of hint at this in the second opening)

But yeah, like others have said, I’m not sure if this is on purpose or if they were trying to write Liko’s family to be full of strong women and just kind of accidentally fell into making them all feel too independent and distant from one another. And it would be really cool for the show to go into Liko’s home life more… but I’m not sure it would be on brand for Pokemon to talk about something so heavy. But fingers crossed!

2. Cute moments between members of the cast and their creatures.

Yep! Horizons has got plenty of it. Right now all of the main cast has two Pokemon each and they’re really taking the time to show off each Pokemon and give them a lot of wholesome moments together and with their trainers.

The human character interactions are great too! I really like the blossoming friendship between Liko and Dot (They could be roommates guys!) and the growing rivalry between Friede and Amethio! It’s great!

3. Fights that feel like they mean something and aren’t just there for cool flashy effects.

The fights in Horizons are so cool and well choreographed, but they aren’t just there to look pretty, not at all!

A lot of the fights that take place in the first two arcs are learning experiences for Liko, Roy, and Dot. They learn new strategies, their Pokemon learn new moves, and in the arc that’s airing at the time of writing, they’re learning how to terrestialize too. The fights don’t seem to happen without purpose and always seem like they either teach the characters a lesson about proper ways to be a trainer and even sometimes help them grow as characters too.

And theres even a healthy amount of losses and wins under the character’s belts and they drive home the lesson of “You learn more from a defeat”. I like how heavily they relied on the more experienced Friede at the beginning and they got frustrated from their losses and used it as fuel to want to learn to stand on their own two feet.

The fights are great and don’t just feel like a kid mashing two toys together like some series with battle elements can.

4. A feeling of love and care for the franchise that goes beyond just trying to sell me toys and games.

This is a little harder to explain and is more like a feel than anything. But I can definitely feel an air of care in Horizons that I don’t really see from shows that feel like twenty-three minute ads. The characters and story don’t just feel like they’re trying to sell me something.

While they’re definitely leaning heavy on the Paldea setting right now, it doesn’t feel like a straight adaption of the games. They don’t really do the “creature of the day” or “character of the day” type episodes like I remember seeing in past iterations of Anipoke. Horizons doesn’t have those moments that I feel like the character is looking right at me and saying “Buy Buy Buy”

And, at least so far, there seems to be a love for Pokemon with the way the reference Pokédex entries like with Hatenna being sensitive to strong emotions or what not.

Like I said, this is really more of a personal criteria and some people can be more sensitive to this kind of thing than others. The closest thing I can compare it to is like when you’re eating a meal a loved one made for you versus something you got at a diner or fast food restaurant. You don’t know how to put your finger on it but you can just taste the love… it’s like that with Horizons to me.

So yeah!

If you’ve read this far, thanks for listening to me rant! I’ll try to wrap it up here.

Basically I just really like Horizons. It gives me that same feel as when I was rewatching the classic Digimon seasons a view years ago… And like the way Horizons fixed all of the problems I had with Anipoke as a kid and as an adult is awesome, it really feels like Pokemon Company is making an effort to listen to criticism and better the series… I just really hope the Digimon anime can do the same.

Oh and all of this is just my opinion, if I said something that you don’t agree with about Digimon or Pokémon, I meant no offense and I’m happy to hear your opinions too!

I just want to close this by saying…

Fans of early Digimon, go watch Pokemon Horizons! You wont regret it!

Fans of Horizons go watch (the sub) of the first three or so seasons of Digimon! If you like Horizons and didn’t really click with Ash era Anipoke I think you’ll really have a good time, it’s so good!

I think both series could use more love, so go out there and give them both a watch!

Okay I’ll shut up now, thanks for reading!

[maximotts]

𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎: 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 & 𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑

a/n: yes this is a day late, I've had a week from hell and I'm not having a holly jolly holiday season. Hopefully this really long chapter makes up for it! Reminder that we've got a scheduled break for this series for two weeks ask I do holiday things (derogatory) and finish up my Christmas fic

✎— priest’s daughter!Wanda x college student!reader ✎— confessions AU; after Wanda gets some much needed help from a few friends, she prepares for her first date.. at Carol's house party. Ups and downs ensue, but you try your best not to ruin the rare night out ✎— warnings: this is an 18+ series, minors DNI; light sexual content with some?? angsty scenarios? more like tense situations; drinking; talks of sex toys; intimidation, but R comes to the rescue; more shameless groping; first kisses; brief make outs; hard conversations and Soft Tummy Wanda Time

✎— words: 7.5k

series masterlist. || main masterlist.

“I can’t embarrass her, I don’t know what I was thinking… see you Saturday! What an idiot!” Wanda had been laid out on Natasha and Agatha’s couch between the two women for the past half hour, angsting over the earlier exchange through tears she thought she’d finished shedding back in high school. “I’ll stay home, there’s no way I should go.”

Natasha spoke up first, having been the one to open the door to find her best friend’s twin sister fidgeting in the hallway. As soon as Nat opened her mouth, Wanda was crying, falling into the slightly shorter woman with all her weight. She brought her inside quickly, hauled her to the couch while Agatha made her tea; she hadn’t seen Wanda this distraught in years so whatever happened, Nat knew it had to have been bad. 

Her first instinct was to ask who did what and give them a piece of her mind, but Wanda never let her, always insisting that reactions just made everything worse. “There’s no way you aren’t going. You have to after all of that, or you’ll look cowardly.” 

“But Tasha!” Wanda shot up to her knees, all watery eyes and red-tipped nose, nearly hitting the redhead in the face, “No one wants me there! And Carol was right.. I can’t dress like this.”

She’d never given much thought to what she wore; her dad didn’t let her wear anything too revealing growing up and when none of her mall trips were with friends instead of him, Wanda’s closet wasn’t exactly filled with each year’s trendy clothes. In college, she stayed with the familiar and dressed comfortably— now she feared you’d just been polite every time you paid her a compliment. 

“There’s one person that wants you there!” Agatha chimed in, righting Wanda’s skirt where it’d twisted around in her distress. She’d been assigned Natasha’s roommate in their first year of college; in their second, they’d moved into an apartment together off campus and when Wanda took up residence down the hall for their third, Natasha warned her that Wanda had been heavily sheltered and sometimes needed that extra bit of attention and care. 

Honestly, Agatha thought her friend was exaggerating, having met Pietro once or twice and not sensing anything off, but Wanda was a special case. Still, the younger girl was one of the kindest people she’d ever met and she enjoyed whenever she popped over for a chat. “And anyways, I think you look adorable.”

She was trying to help, but instead she only proved Carol’s point. Wanda groaned and fell back once more, head buried in the cushions, “I’m twenty years old, adorable isn’t going to cut it.”

The two older girls shared a look, Natasha’s worried while Agatha’s turned mischievous. Nat knew that look from the beginning of Agatha’s schemes and protectiveness kicked in anew. “Agatha.. I don’t think I like that look.” 

She brushed her friend off with a scoff, prodding at Wanda’s ragdoll state until she could wrench her upright once more. Unlike Natasha, she hadn’t grown up with them all, but from the day she met Wanda, Agatha saw a project. Now that she finally had an in, she wouldn’t pass it up. Especially not when it was for a good cause, “You wanna be hot, is that it? You want your new crush to see you and not be able to keep her hands off you?”

That shook Wanda to attention, cheeks beet red. Sure she didn’t want to be mocked or subject you to any torment just being seen with her, but she couldn’t imagine you wanting all of.. that from her of all people. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of it, but whenever she did, she tried her hardest to shake that seemingly impossible reality away, “No, I-”

“So when you show up to that party dressed like you belong there, it’s because you want to hold her hand?” Natasha laughed, pinching Wanda on the cheek because she knew how much she hated it. Maybe Agatha was right; a little push might be good for Wanda, at least to give her a chance to try. “Have her push you on the swings?”

This was not the conversation Wanda wanted to have today, not when she couldn’t even take the first step to kiss you. Needing to keep her mind from that spiraling train of thought, she spun around to face Natasha now, pouting hard, “I’m not a baby, be real!” 

Agatha tugged at Wanda’s dress gently, pulling at the material and letting the skirt fall back to her thighs. “Admit you want to stop looking like the poster child for an abstinence pamphlet and start dressing for a strip club and we’ll help you.”

“That is not what I want.” Reminders of some of the outfits she’d seen her peers wear flashed in her head with red alarm sirens; they’d be sure to catch your eye, seen you on Instagram with similar girls dancing and laughing without a care in the world. Beautiful as they were, that just wasn’t her. Wanda couldn’t turn into a new person overnight, nor did she want to. If she got new clothes, they had to be things she actually wanted to wear. Things you’d like on her. “I want her not to be embarrassed to be seen with me. I want her to kiss me, to flirt with me even though I wouldn’t have the faintest idea what I’m doing! I want her to like me.”

Agatha backed off, sighing and taking one of Wanda’s shaking hands in her own. “I’d bet money she already likes you; you’re lovely and it sounds like you two already spend so much time together.” Neither her nor Natasha wanted Wanda to be so down on herself; there was no need to be, considering how, from the picture Wanda painted, you were plenty into her. Telling her outright might scare her though; it was always baby steps with the poor dear. “All you need to do is show her you’re interested and a little wardrobe change never hurt anyone. If you hate it, you still have your old clothes, no harm done.”

Wanda nodded, staring down at her lap until Natasha grabbed her chin and forced her to look up. “Come on, cheer up, you won’t have that much work to do. You’re beautiful already,” Nat cupped Wanda’s cheek, booped her nose before pushing her dress down to reveal bare shoulders. “And I’ve seen you in a bathing suit, you’ve got legs for days and gorgeous tits-”

“Hey!” Wanda jumped as Natasha gave them a squeeze, instantly self-conscious. There was a night a few days ago, one of your lazy nights when you laid your head in her lap while she read an article off her tablet for extra credit, where you did the same thing. Softer than her friend just now, a singular slow touch. 

She looked down, naively thinking a stray hair on her shirt was the cause, but when she asked you only grinned and reasoned they looked too soft not to touch and went back to watching your show. Wanda decided to keep how tingly the action made her feel away from her two friends for now; they’d never let her live it down. “Just help me pick what to wear on Saturday.”  

As soon as Wanda conceded, Agatha was up and searching for her laptop, “Oh, we can do so much more than one night’s something!”

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

The days leading up to the party were filled with Wanda reassuring not only herself, but also you that she was perfectly fine to go. It was sweet how you worried about her, checking in at least once a day to make sure she knew there was no obligation to show up or prove anything to anyone. 

Wanda appreciated the sentiment, but she wanted to like parties, to go and have fun with you somewhere other than your living rooms for once. Only on Friday, opening the package of clothes she’d bought under Nat and Agatha’s guidance, that she nearly wavered, but when Maria Hill wandered up to where you were eating lunch and whispered something in your ear scandalous enough to make you blush, Wanda’s jealousy wouldn’t let her back out. 

You didn’t mention that you’d caught her pouting, kept that tidbit to yourself for fun. Instead you smiled and flirted right back, ignoring Wanda’s clearly grumpy demeanor. It wasn’t nice, you shouldn’t have done it when the only girl you cared about was the one who’d made the lovely wrap you’d been eating before you got interrupted. 

Once she was gone, you tried smoothing it over with a hug and an apology, but Wanda was smart enough to see right through it, shoving you hard back into your chair and calling your behavior gross. She was still huffy when you left her that afternoon, half expecting her to call off your plans, but she only mumbled out a warning not to be late and shut the door in your face. You only parted for a short while, but in that time, Wanda had a lot to do; she’d been nervous enough without having seen Maria’s little display.

As she sat at her desk, willing a steady hand to apply the eyeliner she so rarely wore, her brain fell back on what it did best: overthink. Visions of the two of you arriving as a pair, just for you to leave her as soon as you found someone better to dance with or talk to, or worse, the whole party being a front for some long game joke, poked at her fragile determination. You’re being annoyingly irrational, she scolded herself, recalling instead the times you stood up for her or held her hand when you crossed the street. Sure, Wanda might have issues with the easy way you lead some of the girls in your classes on, but she refused to let her mind turn you into something you’d never hinted at being. 

The brunette checked the time on her phone before sliding her outfit over her head and as she popped her head and shoulders through the top, her eye caught the device screen light up on its own, a message from you appearing. Wanda read over your cutely apologetic words with a smile, laughing at the I’m sorry sticker attached and quickly typed a response promising forgiveness if you bought her coffee next week. To which you readily agreed and gave her one last minute reminder that you wouldn’t be mad if she decided in the past hour she wasn’t keen on seeing anyone she didn’t want to. No, you weren’t like Carol or Brock, nowhere close to Vision; Wanda didn’t think you could be if you tried.

You were right on time, wanting to tread lightly in case Wanda’s text was more her being polite than actually over your lunch shenanigans, knocking briskly even though you’d texted her you were coming as you locked your apartment door. You expected she’d maybe do her hair and makeup differently, something to fit the night; what you didn’t expect was a whole new Wanda opening the door. “Woah…”

The black dress hugged Wanda’s curves perfectly, accentuating places you’d only felt briefly before. She’d worn sleeveless dresses around you, but this strapless design wrapped around her arms paired with the long hair she’d tied back into a ponytail revealed her neck and shoulders completely… you realized you’d been staring too long when Wanda waved a shy hand in front of your stunned face. “Do I look okay? I think I have enough time to change-”

“Don’t you dare.” You tugged Wanda out the door before she could continue second guessing. And then, being the reassurance you didn’t know Wanda needed so terribly, you slung your arm around her, mostly in an excuse to touch newly exposed skin, speaking loud enough she was sure the whole floor could hear you, “You look hot and if anyone tells you different, they’re lying through their teeth.” 

Hearing that, Wanda already felt like she’d call tonight a win.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

From the moment you stepped through the door, Wanda garnered attention. Not that everyone flew to her side immediately; most didn’t recognize her and if they did, they didn’t know where to even start talking. Most people she went to school with left her alone, a select few people having crafted and weaved stories about the brunette that meant everyone tended to keep their distance. Wanda didn’t mind, really she preferred it; amongst her peers she was completely out of her depths. Small high school gatherings were intimidating enough, and college only added more to the attendance list.

 If you minded her clinging to your side you didn’t say it, relaxed and talking to whoever you pleased all while checking in on Wanda every few minutes. To her credit, Wanda did engage in conversation occasionally, commenting or laughing when something was funny enough. Sitting down, Wanda thought she’d get more time to talk to you, not about anything specific but just to keep your attention. You weren’t brushing her off, no, you were actively listening, nodding your head, everything… but she wanted you sitting closer, asking her to dance, anything.

Wanda wondered if maybe she was going about it the wrong way, working up confidence to ask you herself when mid-sentence, Maria plopped herself down in your open lap and wrapped her arms around your neck. “Hey you…”

For the first time tonight, Wanda felt ignored, her presence non-existent to the grinning girl who so easily disrupted the conversation. You didn’t play into her like you did at lunch, having learned your lesson that an angry Wanda wasn’t a Wanda you wanted to focus your way, but you didn’t want to be rude or cause a scene so you let her stay put for now and hoped Wanda didn’t hold it against you later. “A few of us are gonna play a little game upstairs if you want to join in?”

Wanda watched your face light up, seemingly ignorant to how much the other girl already reeked of alcohol. You loved a good party game, nodding your agreement without a second thought. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, we’ll be right up.”

“Oh yeah...” Maria finally glanced over, a pitying pout on her lips that Wanda felt the strangely aggressive urge to slap off. “Wanda, have you played Never Have I Ever?” The answer was a big resounding no and all three of you were well aware, a game she’d seen countless times on television and never sat down to play. You followed Maria’s lead, sizing up Wanda, but out of compassion rather than anything else. 

In that split minute of silence, Wanda had two choices: be honest and back out or rely on her limited knowledge, go with you, and hope for the best. Maybe she’d have chosen the former if she could read your thoughts, know for sure you wouldn’t leave Wanda alone down here amidst strangers and wisps of smoke— but she didn’t.

“Of course I know how to play, don’t be silly!” The answer was enough for Maria who stood with a wobble and pulled your hand to follow, but your eyes stayed firmly stuck on Wanda. Her words might’ve been confident, but lacquer-polished fingers played with her new array of metal rings and you instantly knew she was lying. You wouldn’t call her bluff in the present company, but your furrowed brow gave away your worries. Wanda tried smoothing them away with a smile, polite as ever, beaming up at Maria who stood in front of you, annoyed that you hadn’t yet budged. “Like she said, we’ll be right up.” 

Maria shrugged, not caring enough to disinvite Wanda upstairs. If she wanted to make a fool of herself, she wouldn’t stop her. “Five minutes or we’re starting without you.” 

Left on your own for the time being, Wanda sprung to her feet  and fixed her dress, letting out a deep breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. It was your turn to take her hand, stopping her in case Wanda decided to sprint up the stairs without you. You did want to play with her, but not if she felt it was an obligation instead of a fun way to pass the time. “Do you really want to? I won’t be mad down here if that’s better.”

“It’s fine!” Heartwarming, really, and Wanda appreciated your sincerity, but you’d never see her as anything other than a friend to be babysat if she didn’t attempt to participate. At least, that’s what Agatha said. Besides, if it was anything like the movies, you could learn things about each other that Wanda was too shy to ask outright. “I want to play! It’ll be fun, please?”

“Wands…” You couldn’t say no to her, not when she looked so excited, swinging your arm back and forth in her hands and adding a pretty please to sway you further. There was a promise you made right then, silently to yourself, to be right next to her and not let things get too out of hand; it couldn’t be that bad under careful supervision.

Supervision you failed to remember would falter as soon as alcohol hit your system.

The game was enjoyable… until Wanda caught on to the point of the game, everyone taking shots and sharing scandalous stories while she was left with nearly all her fingers up. She’d taken exactly one finger down when Carol tried to put her on the spot with “never have I ever bought a vibrator offline” and she prayed the shot she was finally allowed to take dulled her embarrassment quickly. No luck.

“Can I see it some time?” Wanda nearly jumped to her feet when you leaned over, chin resting on her shoulder like you had so many times before. You’d had no problem with the game, only one finger left; a fact Wanda had to keep reminding you of after the double shots you’d taken. 

She pushed you off and you frowned, but let her have her space, your dejected expression nearly pitiful enough Wanda almost felt bad for doing so. Then she remembered the question lingering in the air, the small group going quiet and watching your exchange play out, and suddenly the gentle rejection didn’t feel like nearly enough admonishment. “Why would you want to?”

You shrugged lazily, straightening up as you realized you were the only two left in the game. It was rare you lasted this long, to your recollection at least; Wanda’s nine remaining fingers meant she was unbeatable though. Such an innocent thing… you wished she’d be your innocent thing. Alcohol loosened your tongue, spiraling thoughts of Wanda carefully unboxing the toy as she did with all of her packages bubbling to the surface, running it over in her hands with that adorable scrunched up face she made whenever she focused, experimenting with the various settings. “Just to see how you use it.” 

If you weren’t so inebriated maybe you’d have the presence of mind to keep your words a whisper, but if everyone’s laughs were anything to go by, the entire room heard. Wanda begged to blink and open them to exist anywhere but here, “You’re disgusting.” Basic flirting was hard enough; the last thing she wanted to do was have your first discussion about sex toys while there were people judging her every move.

“What’s the matter, Wanda? Bought it and couldn’t figure out how to use it?” Carol sneered, taking a swig of the vodka she’d brought up for the game straight from the bottle. Wanda wanted to fight her on it, but she couldn’t without exposing some of her most private times and well, they’re called private for a reason. 

The blonde turned to you then, “I thought you wanted to fuck her… shame she hasn’t let you yet.” Wanda whipped around, her worst fears threateningly close to being the truth, but you looked just as shocked.

Maria joined in before you could tell Carol to take it back, leaning across you to really make sure Wanda heard, “You know there’s tons of videos that’ll show you how. All that studying you do, wouldn’t kill you to research something sexy once for a change.” Sober enough to deem that over the line, you pushed Maria away before she could continue her taunts, but words weren’t so easily taken back. Wanda was already mortified beyond belief and you were ashamed it was mostly your fault. 

If clinging to you to hide the stinging tears budding at the corners of her eyes wouldn’t cause more attention, Wanda would’ve fallen into your shoulder in an instant. Not that she was particularly happy with you right now, but what other comfort did she have? Your expression screamed an apology Wanda wasn’t ready to immediately accept and she flicked your forehead in warning, “Don’t say a thing.”

You relented with a sigh, still disappointed with yourself, but resolving to do everything in your power to make up for it. But all Wanda wanted was this terrible game over with, anything to get her out of this cramped room full of people who regarded her like a party trick. Her one advantage was being the last to put a finger down, her turn to announce an action and choose one of the many things you’d done that she’d never gotten close to. Whatever she said would scream innocence, but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care; Wanda needed you out so she could “win” and get far away from here. “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

You weren’t fully drunk, buzzed enough to be careless, but not to ignore what everyone was saying. Stupidly, you’d taken Wanda’s earlier insistence to play as an excuse to do so just as hard, personal promise forgotten little by little with each shot you threw back, but one look at her clear distress was sobering. Wise decision making wasn’t your strong suit though, drunk or not. 

She wasn’t that far away, close enough to kiss— so you did, leaning forward until your hands rested on either side of her folded legs. The moment your lips met, the little audience went wild, but you kept it short, only wanting to help, not embarrass her. “Silly girl, you can’t pick something you’ve done. Still won though, not bad for your first time.” 

Wanda was stunned, frozen in place even as everyone broke their circle formation to clean up. Instincts screamed to pull you in for another one, but she knew she shouldn’t. You’d done it to make up for the earlier mess you’d started; you wanted to be nice, not spend your night sharing kisses she couldn’t reciprocate. It was only for the sake of everyone else, to temporarily shut them up… a first kiss to placate and entertain.

When you looked at her again, Wanda saw the beginnings of pity and she couldn’t stand it, not from you. Especially not after that. “I’m going to grab a soda, I’ll be downstairs.” 

“Did you want me to go with-” She was up and out before you could get a word in and you sighed, standing slowly to save your head some pain. “Great, see you down there…”

Going off by herself was near the very bottom of Wanda’s smart ideas, but she didn’t have it in her to explain, to pretend to be okay when she wanted to shake you and ask why’d you be so stupid at the worst possible time. 

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Everything happened in a series of threes, good or bad; her father lived by that philosophy. The second Brock wandered into the otherwise empty kitchen, having been seeking her out, Wanda started believing him. First the never have I ever experience from hell, second, you playing said game, and now this way too drunk man stumbling closer; Wanda was more than ready for a good streak any time now.

“Wanda! There you are!” His words were slurred, strung together so messily Wanda wondered if he’d remember in the morning that he’d actually smiled at her. She tried to ignore him, looking at any variety of kitchen accessories she spotted around the room, but Brock was never one to be quiet when given space to speak. “Praying away your first kiss all alone in here?”

“You know that’s not how that works.” Wanda rolled her eyes, taking a step back only to meet the cold kitchen counter. And again, Brock came closer. 

In a perfect world he wouldn’t intimidate her, not even a foot away, his obnoxiously loud laughter pushing his alcohol soaked breath her way, but she couldn’t help it, instinct inching her farther even as his big steps closed the distance. “What I do know is how rude it is to leave someone in the dust right after they kiss you. You ran off so quickly!”

Wanda’s hands tightened around her soda can, denting the aluminum as she counted down however long she had left to endure this. “I didn’t kiss you, it’s none of your business.”

“I could have once, remember?” Unnerved as she was, Wanda still hit Brock’s hand away as quickly as his calloused fingertips grazed her cheek, a hard slap that faded his smug grin into a glower. “You’re just too good at running away.”

“Hands off, Rumlow.” Where you’d come from Wanda didn’t know, but she was never more relieved to see you. It took you longer than you wanted to admit navigating the house, asking first if anyone had seen your date and then, where the kitchen was. Finding her just in time is what mattered most, speeding across the kitchen to put space between Wanda and your classmate slowly, but surely crowding her in. 

You hadn’t heard their conversation, but it didn’t matter. There were exactly zero scenarios you could imagine Wanda willingly talking to Brock, much less with him as close as he was. Boorishly, he raised his hands in the air, backing away without nearly enough shame as he should’ve. “What, is she your girlfriend now? Like, for real?”

Wanda didn’t speak up to correct him, but neither did you, still unsure what you called someone you’d fantasized about more than acted on those with. This was Brock you were talking about though, and he out of anyone didn’t need to know another bit of information about Wanda than he already did.

Ignoring an answer, you held Wanda similarly to how you had a few days ago, arms about her waist, but this was more possessive, more urgent—  another spectacle Wanda longed to hate, but the security your embrace offered left her swooning. She would die happy if she could stay in your arms like this forever; just preferably not in Carol’s kitchen. “Why, jealous?” 

Your hand on her ass should’ve made her cringe; if it was anyone else, maybe she would, but this left her knees weak. To your shock, Wanda didn’t move and Brock’s hazy eyes bounced between the two of you, not willing to fight for someone he didn’t deem worth the effort. “Of your newfound celibacy? No thanks.”

“Well fuck off then, find someone else to piss off.” When you kissed her cheek, it was equal parts to drive him away as it was to calm Wanda’s nerves and by some miracle, it worked for both. Once he disappeared from view, you offered her another, two in succession when she didn’t twist away. “Sorry for taking forever, couldn’t find you… you’re really fast, you know.”

“The game was over so I left.” Wanda tossed her empty and squashed can into the pile atop the overfilled trash can nearby, needing her hands free to affectionately pat your arms. She expected you to let her go again, but you only held tighter. “What-”

Turning Wanda around, you leant against the counter, bringing her with you until she had no choice but to settle between your legs. “You have a cute ass,” Two hands cupped her backside now, squeezing covered flesh as if there weren't dozens of people that could walk in at a moment’s notice. “Why didn’t I know that?”

“Because you hardly look at me,” the brunette mumbled, willing herself to relax as you touched her. You only acknowledged her with a low hum, burying your nose in the crook of her neck, sighing as you caught the familiar light floral scent of her perfume. Curious fingers skirted over her hip, following the tight hem of Wanda’s dress along her upper thigh. She shuddered against you, fingers tugging at your shirt, grounding herself as she wiggled against your front. Wanda hadn’t expected to enjoy such shameless groping, but tonight was just full of surprises. 

You’d be more than happy to spend the rest of your time here, exploring her at your leisure, all else forgotten, but your dream was over way too soon. The tired girl wormed her way out of your grasp, instantly missing your warmth, but needing to stop before you were discovered. She wanted to be the type not to care who caught you, wanted to let you hold her tight and kiss her hard right here in the kitchen, but her nerves got the better of her. “You’re drunk, don’t do that here.”

You could insist you weren’t that drunk, completely sober enough to know exactly what you’re up to, but you’d already pushed your luck being so bold after embarrassing her earlier. “Here? Sooo.. you’d let me do it somewhere else?” 

Wanda ignored her hopes soaring at the prospect of you wanting to try again. Not for show or to shut anyone up, but because you wanted her. You saw it on her face, pupils blown wide and fidgeting hands; the girl wore her emotions on her sleeve, and damn if you didn’t want to convince her to let you drag her upstairs to some unoccupied room and have your way with her, but you tried to make peace with just knowing Wanda didn’t completely shut the idea down.

 “I don’t know! Maybe…” This wasn’t the place to discuss how much she craved your touch, much less her feelings on the matter; for Wanda, parties weren’t right for anything she needed right now. Suddenly Wanda felt overwhelmed all over again, brain scrambled and wanting too many unrelated things at once, and the loud bass and equally loud house was too much. 

She’d given it a real effort for you and it wasn’t all bad, but trying to fit in with a group of people who thrived on being high school mean girls even into adulthood? Wanda didn’t want to play that game and as much as she wanted to trust you, she couldn’t take anything you did around them seriously, uncertain if this was all just to show off or genuine interest. “I think I’m going to go…”

You couldn’t say it caught you off guard, not with how the night had gone. Hours ago when you’d first seen her, Wanda stood tall, happy and excited for her first real party; taking in her slumped shoulders and turned down gaze broke your heart. You hoped your disappointment didn’t show because none was for her, all towards you instead, feeling like you’d failed at every turn to keep her safe and relaxed. “There’s no way I’m letting you walk across campus alone in the middle of the night.”

“Well I can’t be here anymore, I’m done.” Staying in this house a minute longer made Wanda want to throw up; she wanted the cozy familiarity of her apartment and her bed, to sleep until tonight was a far off memory. She hadn’t come with much thankfully, only her keys you’d kept tucked safe in your jacket, but you tucked the pocket behind you as she went to reach for it.

“I never said you couldn’t leave,” Stepping forward, you took Wanda by the hand, but didn’t tug her closer, trying to let her have her space even when you wanted to give her the hug she looked like she so badly needed. If Wanda was leaving then you would too, having lost your interest in the party as soon as you saw hers vanish upstairs. “I’m walking you home.”

Guilt crept in quickly and Wanda instantly tried reassuring you, but you wouldn’t hear it, determined not to let her walk off this time. She was upset, you’d seen it on her before, a dark cloud dampening her naturally cheery demeanor; you wouldn’t leave her like that again. “You’re the hottest girl here, I’d rather spend time with you anyways.”

“Alright, but I’m going to bed.” Wanda hit your shoulder, turning her back to you before her smile gave her away. ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

It was cold outside with autumn rolling in, but Wanda was grateful for the quiet. The walk back to your building was short in theory, but grew longer with the brunette doing most of the navigation. You were just a bit too distracted to focus on where you were going, but you’d always remember to follow Wanda anywhere. While dragging along behind her, your eyes remained firmly stuck on her bare shoulders, illuminated whenever you passed under a streetlight, and when you caught her shivering, you were quick to rush in. 

“Are you cold?” She wasn’t for long between your engulfing hug and the heat bursting through her body as your lips kissed along the expanse of exposed skin. It was impossible to walk like this, your hands splayed over her stomach as you clung to her from behind, preoccupied with the new opportunity to touch her rather than getting inside. 

Wanda tried anyways, steps heavy on the sidewalk as she took your weight with her. “I won’t be cold if you let us go home.” She was right of course, often was, but it didn’t stop you from staying attached to her the rest of the way. 

You’d run to the bathroom as soon as she unlocked the door and Wanda made a beeline for her bedroom— where she’d forgotten all about the short white nightgown she’d laid out right before she left. An outfit change planned for the version of her that returned from the party confident, a lot more drunk, and ready to fall in bed with you for a whole different reason than she was now. 

Frazzled, Wanda grabbed the satin garment and shoved it to the back of her closet until it was hidden from view. Her typical safe pajama set was the new choice, shedding her party dress to pull loose shorts over her hips, buttoning the last button on her top just as you emerged from the bathroom. 

Letting you do whatever you needed to do to be ready for bed, Wanda went to the kitchen, pouring glasses of water and picking up her bottle of ibuprofen she knew you’d need in the morning. When she returned, you were already under the covers, head against the headboard and absentmindedly scrolling your phone. “Glad to see you made yourself comfortable.”

You expected her to say more, either talking about the night or give you some random fact as she sometimes did, but after Wanda was firmly in bed, lights off, not even the television on, the typically comfortable silence between you two felt suffocating. “You’re being quiet.” 

“I’m quiet a lot.” She said it plainly, not even a hint of emotion behind her words and when that was all, you had to do something about it. Sitting up once more, you scooted over until you were sat in front of her, sizing up the worry rolling off of Wanda in waves. 

That nightgown was a painful reminder of how badly she felt she’d failed this whole party thing; there was no lingering high from buzzing events, no giggles or wandering hands like Natasha hinted might happen if she’d done any number of certain things. No, Wanda had run from you, pushed those wandering hands away, played off shoulder kisses as nothing short of an annoyance and now… now you weren’t touching her at all. If you went back to your place, she wouldn’t be surprised, but she dreaded being alone right now, left not only to wallow in self-pity, but properly unkissed. It was all too miserable to say aloud. 

You waited until she conquered her visible hesitation, but when Wanda sighed, more interested in fidgeting with her blankets than speaking up, you decided it was time to step in with reassurance. “You did really well tonight. I hope you know you really didn’t have to come with me, but I’m happy you did and you looked beautiful.”

Wanda gave a bitter chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief, “You’re not upset you had to watch me all night and make sure I wasn’t completely falling apart?”

“What? No! I had a good time!” A different time than what you were used to, but not bad. Really you didn’t mind looking out for her, felt honored she even trusted you to do so. You’d gone home with the best person in that place; you’d love to be doing something different with her right about now to round out your night as usual, especially when you could easily remember how soft and warm Wanda felt against you, but you didn’t want to push her. Except… “Hey Wanda?”

She picked at the stray lint she could barely make out amongst her sheets, trying not to dread whatever else came out of your mouth next, “Yeah?”

“I liked kissing you earlier.” It was the truth, simply put between your exhaustion and intoxication, but honest nonetheless. “Was that really your first time?”

“Well…” She thought about it, wondering long and hard if she could count the years old close call that stuck in her head in her worst thoughts. No, Wanda wouldn’t pay that any mind. “Yes, it was.”

“Oh..” Before you could second guess anymore, you inched closer, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. Wanda was tired, that much was clear, but her eyes still stayed wide, gaze locked on your lips as she licked her own. If the desperation was mutual, one of you might as well do something about it. “Would you like a second?”

Wanda paused, not because she didn’t want it, she did so terribly badly, but it scared her. All of this, you, scared her. What if you changed your mind? If you only kissed her before to be nice, what did this count as? Back there, you’d been so quick about it, a peck to end the game in your own mischievous way; this time you were free to carry on and she had no idea how to handle that. Were you about to find out she’s a terrible kisser? 

While her thoughts raced, you sat back, giving her space to decide properly. You wanted to kiss her, sure, and with any other girl maybe you would’ve just taken it, but with the careless way you’d taken her first, you couldn’t let Wanda’s second be something she woke up regretting. “You can say no, I won’t be mad-”

In a split second, your world went black, Wanda crashing into you with a strength you didn’t know she had. Her lips were clumsy against yours until you took over, shock dissipating as everything that was Wanda clouded your senses. She’d had enough pushing you away for one night. Here in the privacy of her bedroom, if you really wanted to kiss her, she’d freely admit she needed you to do so. 

Wanda’s arms wound loosely around your neck, acclimating herself to the feel of your kiss. You were slow and inviting, skirting the tip of your tongue along her bottom lip so gently Wanda didn’t say a thing about your hands drawing up her bare legs. Eventually, you eased her back until she laid reclined, deft fingers undoing the bottom few delicate buttons of her pajama set. 

“It’s not fair how sweet your lips are…” You chased her as she broke for air, shifting your weight to kneel between her legs; Wanda was about to ask you what you meant when you slipped. Still lacking all of your coordination, you leaned too close to the edge of the mattress, falling to the floor with a loud thud. When you regained your senses, Wanda’s laughter hit you before anything, loud and uninhibited, and as much as your head ached, you found yourself laughing right along with her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but…!” Wanda could barely breathe she was laughing so hard, your dramatic pout way too exaggerated to be real. You looked so pitiful curled up on the floor, rubbing the side of your head; she wanted to kiss you all better. “Come on, come up here. You need to go to sleep.”

You might’ve protested harder if the brunette wasn’t holding out her arms, covers pulled back to let you climb right in. It was an uncoordinated scramble from the carpet into her bed, but Wanda pressed a little kiss into your hair, smoothing it over before guiding you down. “At least I don’t have to sleep down there…”

Head laid heavy on her midsection, snuggled into what felt like the warmest blankets of your life in your drunken state, exhaustion hit you like a freight train. At some point Wanda’s hand snuck into your hair, brushing strays away from your face, nails lightly scratching at your scalp until your eyes fluttered closed. “You’re good at this for someone who’s never gone on nights out.”

“Pietro’s to thank for that,” Wanda laughed again and you heard it against your ear, the smooth, happy rumbling you’d missed all night. “Someone had to pull him back together before morning and it certainly wasn’t going to be dad. He always likes to remind me I’m twelve minutes younger, but I feel years older most of the time.”

She was a natural caretaker, always had been, especially after her mother died, but besides her family she’d never heard that type of compliment from anyone and it helped her relax in this otherwise unfamiliar territory. If nothing else, Wanda knew she could show her affection through some tried and true TLC, but looking after her loud and drunk brother was miles different from the clingy drunken behavior of the crush she’d just been making out with. If you weren’t so cute when you got sleepy, Wanda might’ve exiled you to the couch. 

After a while of nothing, Wanda unintentionally lulling you to sleep with the gentle stroke of her fingers on your head, her thoughts drifted again. “Was Carol right?”

“Hm?” It was too late to have any discussion past something silly, but from Wanda’s tone, you knew it was anything but and you prayed you could keep it together long enough not to look like a complete asshole.

“Did you only ask to hang out to see if you could have sex with me?” Wanda nearly bit her lip to bleeding in the long silence that followed, wavering between thinking you’d finally fallen asleep and convincing herself you were pretending just to avoid giving an answer. She thought about waiting but if that stupid game taught her one thing it was the way alcohol stripped you of all filters; she needed to know for sure, but she couldn’t look you in the eye to ask. Her dark bedroom was the perfect cover for questions she’d never be able to ask after tonight.

“No, of course not.” Truthfully, you hadn’t drunk enough to be anything past buzzed; you’d been stupid earlier for sure, but nothing extreme. If you wanted to lie, you could easily, but you’d never think of it. Not when you’d already let her down repeatedly. “You’re hot though, I would if you wanted me to.” 

“Oh… thank you?” Wanda stiffened and mentally you were kicking yourself, hoping she didn’t kick you out of her bed when you were so warm and cozy right where you were— but then you felt her thighs squirming against your midsection. You wanted to test your hunch so badly, but you knew better. Soon maybe, but not when you were both so painfully tired. Instead you hunkered down, pushed against her until she let you roll onto your stomach between her legs. 

Wanda’s sleep shirt made the perfect cover for her soft tummy, a pillow you were scared you’d miss next time you fell asleep on your own. You dotted it with kisses, mostly the area under the buttons you’d undone, a gentle show of gratitude  before laying your head back. “Mostly I wanted to see if you’re as cute up close. You are: mission accomplished.”

She wanted to shake you for calling her cute again, but it was too late to revert the conversation and she couldn’t exactly jump for her phone and text Natasha without looking obvious. Wanda sighed and settled for running her hands over your shoulders, hoping desperately her breathing stayed even enough to hide her personal panic. Soft snores finally made their way to her ears and her head fell back against actual pillows, waiting for anything to tell her how to make some kind of move. Talking wasn’t it, parties certainly weren’t it… Agatha’s advice was next up. Plan C, she’d called it— Wanda feared Plan C.

[wyattjohnston]

never said a thing - pierre luc dubois

summary: everyone knows that luc wants a trade... you're just the only person he hasn't told directly.

word count: 2,667

main character: gender neutral reader

note: this is a very very late pinch hitter fic for @pcttymcrlecu as part of the summer fic exchange 2k23. thank you for your patience!

i had to fudge the timeline because i didn't realise luc's trade request happened post-season. i really feel like it happened before the trade deadline

You’d known about Luc’s trade requests before you met him—the entire city of Winnipeg, the province of Manitoba and the entire NHL fan base knew. It was inescapable, just like it had been when he was moved to Winnipeg after requesting a trade out of Columbus.

You were happier about the first one, less so about the second and that only got worse as time went on and the official third one came.

Meeting Luc wasn’t anything you’d planned but had still taken longer than you’d expected it to. Winnipeg wasn’t small, though it certainly wasn’t the largest city, and everyone seemingly had some sort of connection to the Jets—even if it was a Six Degrees of Mark Scheifele sort of deal.

A friend of a friend knew where the younger Jets players liked to spend their free time, as if that wasn’t widely known by everyone in their 20s anyway, and you found yourself in the same bar as Luc, Logan and Jansen.

You found yourself at Luc’s house a lot after that.

Nobody seemed to mind the weird, nebulous state of your relationship—situationship is probably the best word to describe everything that you were. It hadn’t mattered, not really, that you showed up at Luc’s house at the first text with little care for the time he sent his you up? text because he was always just as quick to show up when you sent him a photo of your empty bed without any words to accompany it.

It was always You and Luc, even though there was no You and Luc.

The trade request rumours go unmentioned in the time you spend together—the first alleged request being negated by a one-year contract and the second, the most recent, never coming up. You couldn’t forget them, though. You caught yourself looking at Luc when his back was turned, hoping you could will him to talk to you. Hoping he would explain the request. Hoping he would tell you directly.

Time passed, though, without any mention from Luc that he no longer wanted to be in Winnipeg. Without any mention that whatever You and Luc were had an expiration date.

The Jets lost four games in a row, ending their season in the first round of the playoffs. It hurt because they’re your team—a crushing disappointment especially after winning the first game so soundly and taking game 3 to second overtime—and you watched every game from start to finish.

It was another turning point in your situationship with Luc. As much as you were always a text message away, Luc never asked right after road trips. You never expected him to. It was a boundary set in place that you were more than happy to adhere to.

Except.

The text wasn’t even the usual you up? but an explicit come over that had your heart rate spiking. It was the most direct either of you had ever been and you didn’t know what it meant at all.

He’d barely arrived home when you were buzzed into the building if the suitcase at the door was any indication. He looked exhausted, standing beside the intercom with his forehead pressed against the wall.

You didn’t wait before moving towards him, your footsteps disgustingly loud in the otherwise silent apartment, and pressed your forehead into the space between his shoulder blades.

In a hoarse voice, muffled by the wall he was leaning against, Luc asked, “When’s it my turn to win?”

He wasn’t crying, something you were grateful for because you knew you were ill equipped to deal with it, but he may well have been. The sagging of his limbs, so tired and dejected that his muscles weren’t even tense, and the defeat in his voice were foreign to you.

“What do you need from me?” you asked, unable to think of anything else and not wanting to make a wrong move and upset him even more.

He signed, his entire body shaking with it, and admitted that he just wanted to go to bed.

You agreed, despite it being far from what you’d gone for. Moving him was easy; he put up no resistance as you led him down to his room. You’d never seen him so low, never moved him so easily, and, as many times as you had undressed each other in that very room, taking his clothes off was the strangest part of it all.

He helped you undress him in so much as he moved his limbs when he needed to, but he was very much just doing as he was told.

“You’ve got so many more years in you, Luc,” you said when you were finally laying in the bed.

“It never feels that way.”

Waking up in Luc’s bed wasn’t strange by any means, nor, quite frankly, was the morning wood pressed against your lower back. Being the familiar territory that it was, you roused Luc from his sleep and started your morning the right way.

He was visibly happier than the night before—or, maybe not happier but definitely less noticeably distraught—and falling into old habits was simple and welcomed by both of you. The closeness, physical and emotional, something he needed judging by the way he held you through breathy moans.

It wasn’t until you were showered and sitting at his kitchen island with a coffee as he got ready for end-of-season interviews, grumbling as he moved throughout the house.

Your timing probably wasn’t the best, waiting until you were standing at his front door saying goodbye just before he fronted the media, but you had never shied from the hard conversations. Even if you delayed them until the last—often worst—possible moment.

“I’ll see you when you’re back for training camp?” you asked tentatively, wringing your hands in your lap.

Luc hesitated for so long that you thought he might never say anything. He couldn’t meet your eye when he said, “Yeah. End of August, probably.”

You watched him carefully, scrutinising the painful casualness of his response, the lack of any giveaways that he was lying or that he hoped what he was saying wasn’t true.

You knew too much, though.

His casual demeanour faltered as you met him with an equally long silence—you weren’t hesitating for any reason other than to make him uncomfortable.

He shifted his feet and looked everywhere in the room except at you. He was opening his mouth to speak when you finally decided to keep talking, cutting him off.

“Are you ever going to talk to me about requesting a trade?”

Luc’s demeanour changed from confused to defensive immediately when he asked, “Do I need to?”

“I mean… yeah?” you asked, stumbling over your words. “You were really just going to leave for the summer and never come back?”

“I—” The colour drained from his face. “Yeah.”

With your hands pulling at the bottom of your hoodie, you felt your heart rise into your throat. There wasn’t anything else for you to say, which was a blessing because if you opened your mouth, you weren’t sure what would have come out.

You nodded once, stiffly, and then again after a beat before you let the barstool screech against the tiles as you stood. He didn’t make any move to stop you as you grabbed your purse, and you could feel him staring as you walked out the door. You cursed the apartment building for having quiet closing doors when all that would have made you feel better was hearing something slam behind you.

June came and went, July disappeared as quick as it arrived and August… well August dragged on painfully.

You worked through the perfect weather and the perfect photos your friends posted of their perfect vacations. It wasn’t all that different from every other summer since you graduated and it was no different to the previous summer because you didn’t see him then anyway.

A lot of energy had been spent trying to get him out of your mind, not least because all of your work colleagues seemingly spent their every waking moment talking about Pierre-Luc Dubois and his trade request. When the trade to LA had finally happened, all they could talk about was “eight years and eight point five million, who does he think he is?” or “he’s just going to ask for another trade in 2 years so jokes on them!”

You, though? Mostly you’d been able to move past it. August rolled around and you didn’t care about Pierre-Luc Dubois.

Until, that is, you were standing in The Forks Market, ready to eat your weight in mini donuts because it had been a long, long week, and, above every other head you saw him.

You couldn’t leave in the rush that you wanted to, or at least suddenly speedrun the market, because you did want your donuts more than you wanted to leave so you turned your head, tried to hide behind some other people and hoped that he’d never spot you.

That was too much to ask for, of course.

The stall called your name and you knew that everybody in the immediate vicinity had heard it but still you collected your food and tried to make a beeline for the exit only to have your name called again.

You stopped but didn’t turn around, hoping that maybe Luc would just turn and leave but you knew that was foolish. You felt his presence as he got closer, his body so much larger than those around him that even without seeing him you just knew.

He said your name, in such a deceptively soft voice that you had no choice but to turn around, to look at him and see a sorrow on his face that you hadn’t ever expected. Definitely nothing you’d ever seen before.

“You got something to say or?” you prompted when he just continued to stare at you.

“How are you?”

You recoiled at the question, your eyebrows pulling together, followed by an eye roll so rapid that it actually hurt. Luc flinched himself but didn’t rush to say anything else.

“That’s not the conversation I want to have,” you said, brutally honest. “Especially not with you. So, I’m going to take my food and leave. Enjoy LA.”

You stepped away, causing him to stand up straighter and reach for you—but only briefly before he thought better of it. Still, he said, rushed, “Come back to mine.”

“And why should I do that?”

“I have—” he cleared his throat. “I have to talk to you and I don’t want to do that here.”

You hesitated but ultimately agreed when curiosity got the better of you. As much as you’d not wanted to think about him, it had been impossible to shake the desire for any sort of explanation.

Walking into his apartment again didn’t feel like a bad idea, but it did feel weird to see it mostly empty with packing boxes stacked against the walls. You didn’t need to be reminded that he was going—gone—and yet the reminder still had you looking away instantly back to Luc.

Luc pulled out the food that he’d bought at the market—an actual meal—and set it down on the kitchen island where the only remaining seats in his apartment were, just three barstools.

“I hope they gave you a fork because I don’t have any cutlery,” he said sheepishly.

You sat down beside him, placed your own bag down and told him, smiling to yourself, “I don’t think I need a fork to eat mini donuts.”

The laugh that erupted from him shocked both of you. You more so, you thought, because you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him laugh so heartily, so carefree. It ended up being the reason for your abrupt silence, the joy being pulled from you and a donut being shoved into your mouth to avoid any questioning.

He didn’t seem to notice that your laughter had stopped for any reason other than deciding to eat, so he ate his curry still smiling and starting a conversation about Ryan Gosling as Ken that you had to admit was endearing even if you didn’t want to. Your own contribution to that conversation was minimal despite how much you had enjoyed the movie in the first place.

“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” you asked during a break in the conversation where Luc was getting ready to start playing the movie’s soundtrack. That was so far past normal that you had to get out of it, that you had to bring him back to the reason you’d even gone to his apartment in the first place.

Luc looked chastised as he put his phone back down on the table. He turned the stool so that he was facing you, the one stool still in between you, and all joy had fallen from his face. He reached one hand out, resting it on the empty stool, and inhaled.

“I asked for a trade.”

“So, I heard.”

“I can’t keep losing.”

“Oh,” you said, feigning sympathy, “Because the Kings got so much further than the Jets did. Understandable.”

Whatever was left of his openness disappeared, his face making it clear that he’d shuttered. You didn’t care, really, when that was the lame excuse you’d gotten.

“I don’t even care about that,” you said, waving off the poor excuse. “Honestly, I don’t care that you requested it because whatever it’s your career and your life, you can leave if you want—why didn’t you tell me, Luc? If I hadn’t asked, I really don’t think you would have told me.”

“I should have,” he admitted, without hesitation, his face relaxing into something somewhat remorseful. “I know I should have. Even if we’re just… casual, fuckbuddies, whatever we’re calling it, of course I should have told you. It just took me until you got mad for me to realise that.”

 “What? You didn’t realise I was human until that moment?”

“I didn’t realise you cared.”

That chastened you quite effectively, because it was true that you’d never given much—or any—indication that it was more than just sex. Not a great deal more, at least not until you thought you were going to lose him, but enough that the friends in friends-with-benefits had clearly meant a lot more to you than it did to him. You couldn’t have expected him to know that when your conversations were limited to if the roads were okay on the drive to one another’s place.

You admitted, quietly, your eyes averted to your lap, “I don’t know if I did until I heard you wanted out. Then I thought about it at length and by the time I asked you about it… Lying to me is just about the worst thing you could have done.”

“I didn’t think you’d bring it up,” he said slowly. “I really just thought you would leave; I’d go back to Quebec and then, when the season started, I’d be somewhere else and then you asked and… I realised I cared about leaving you behind.”

Your eyes fell shut, overwhelmed by what he’d told you. You were sure nobody had ever cared about leaving you behind before. You wondered, briefly, how long it would have taken Luc to contact you if he hadn’t seen you that evening, though it was something that could be found out later. More pressing was the confession you’d just received.

Your eyes opened, and Luc was looking at you with a softness and longing that overwhelmed you all over again. All you did was laugh nervously, shyly, to yourself, and tell him, “I don’t even know anything about you that I haven’t learnt from the Jets’ broadcasts.”

“I don’t think I know anything about you either,” he confessed, unabashed. “I want to learn; if you want to teach me.”

Please consider leaving feedback—reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

i forgot i have a tag list rip (very sorry if you’ve already seen the fic!!)

@fallinallincurls @spine-buster @2manytabsopen @xcicix @sorryjustafangirl @senditcolton @shinyfalcon4 @laurenairay @jarmorie @diary-of-jj @its-bitchin-belle-bitches @sssstarstruck @pr3nt1ss

[sol-saggitarius]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞...

❝ I got so used to your presence that the mere second you’re gone, it turns my world completely upside down. ❞  

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 775

Warnings: None!

Author Note: Hello hello! This is one of my first fics I’m posting on Tumblr. I’m slightly nervous haha.. But nonetheless this is a sampler for how I write and I hope you enjoy and come back for more! I’ll be posting two more sampler fics in the near future so look forward to it.

Synopsis: Ever since you two have met, you’ve always been around him. But then suddenly one day you don’t greet him as per usual.

Love was never part of the equation of the life that Leona had thought for himself. All he ever wanted was a peaceful life of rest and relaxation. A life away from his repressed emotions, between his school life and the life he had back home. Just a simple life of resting under the beautiful midday rays of sunshine. 

One fateful day, as some would put it, you had clumsily tripped over his tail. An unfortunate accident of course, but he still felt the pain no less. His low growl pierced your core as you apologized, hoping that at the very least he'd ask you to just leave him alone. As with your luck, you happened to be running late and in a hurry. As if he were reading your mind, he just sighed and shooed you off like dust on his clothing, albeit he was still quite irritated. Nonetheless he was (mostly) back to his peaceful nap and that was all that mattered to him.

As time went on though, he found himself always running into you. Whether it was in the hallways, maybe some of his classes, trouble with some of his dorm mates, or even just you coming around and saying hi, you were almost always there. It became a regular event at one point. He expected you to show up in one way or another, that was a given to him. But then one day, you just stopped. Never in his life had he felt that sharp pain in his chest, like a needle being put into a pin cushion. This miniscule action has completely flipped his routine upside down. Ruggie was run ragged trying to get Leona out of bed and even more ragged when he was trying every move in the book to make sure Leona didn't stay back again. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he asked Leona why he was sulking like a depressed housecat. To that, Leona became defensive and stated he just felt more irritated than usual and he didn’t know why, which wasn't out of the norm. Somehow Ruggie knew this was a lie. Whether Leona knew it or not. Being by Leona’s side had given Ruggie a third person perspective onto the things that tend to occur around the lion prince. One of those things was of course, you. He saw you everyday having a little one sided chat with Leona, a simple “hello!” or “how are you?” followed by a “humph”or “buzz off”, to which you always responded with a small chuckle and then a goodbye, and just like that you were on your way to repeat that same thing the very next day. Recently he's noticed you haven't shown your face at all within Leona’s vicinity. Was he upset about you not coming to greet him? How could that be with the way he responded to you? Who really knew. All Ruggie knew was that he HAD to figure out what was going wrong. Otherwise he'd be stuck with a sulking Leona for whoever knows how long. 

That very afternoon, with a little digging and intel collection, he had found you. Lately you’ve been bogged down by schoolwork. No wonder you never came by, it seemed excruciating. But his mission was more important than your work. Ruggie approaches you with a casual smile and his hands resting on the back of his head. He tells you that there's an emergency in Savanaclaw and he needed specifically YOUR help. Without much room to argue he takes you to Savanaclaw and then leads you to a sulking Leona. Upon seeing your face however, the ever stoic lion's eyes light up. Though it was extremely hard to notice. You question Ruggie but as soon as you turned around he was gone. Long gone. You awkwardly stood there, fiddling with the sleeves of your NRC uniform jacket. You asked Leona if he was going to say anything, or even tell you what this so-called "emergency" was, but he was silent. His predatory gaze closing in on you. The silence lasted only a few more excruciatingly long seconds until he asks, borderline pouts, why you haven't come to annoy him lately. To which you respond honestly and say that your school work has taken most of your time. He clicks his tongue and states, moreso demands, that if you needed help with the work that he'd begrudgingly help you. Without room to speak he then dismisses you to go get your work and bring it back to his room. As you left, below his breath he mumbled,

"I just missed you, you damn herbivore."

[voxofthevoid]

Omg Vox I am so happy to find you on tumblr!

Holy smokes! 'the way it follows you home, the stories i never told' is my fav!

Are there any plans on writing an Omake/Deleted Scene/Sequel/Side Story/Companion piece on this scene? Making the suggestion a reality?

“So much for not making you come,” Gojou says, tone deceptively mild. “This isn’t on Yuuji though. Where’s all your lauded stamina, kid?”

“F’k you,” Satoru slurs.

“You couldn’t handle me, sweetheart.” Gojou pulls harder at his hair, forcing his neck into an uncomfortable arch,...

This scene is so hot!!!!!!! If not, that's ok! I'm enjoying the fantasy regardless!

Bye!🙈

Hello! Thank youuuu 🥰

I don't have any plans to further expand on that specific scene or fic, but I am an ardent fan of interdimensional/intertemporal selfcest ft. my main ship, so I've got other ideas featuring various combinations of multiple Gojous and Yuujis. So if you want to see some of my (rather explicit) notes for adult!Gojou fucking teen!Gojou, it's under the cut!

Premise:

Ambiguous Future AU where everyone's alive and nothing hurts. Yuuji's in his second year, maybe third. Freshly a god teen!Gojou pops into existence, sees goyuu is a thing and decides to monopolize Yuuji to mess with his older self, trips into genuine affection like a fool, and continues the monopoly, until adult!Gojou snaps and goes, if you're that desperate for dick, I'll give you some. Yuuji walks in on Satoru fucking impaled on Gojou's dick and enthusiastically joins in. Satoru is both turned on and betrayed, right until the double penetration kills his higher brain functions.

Some details:

Be warned that these are straight from my horny-fueled outline, so they're pretty rough notes:

Satoru’s antics from first spotting something between Gojou and Yuuji to Gojou snapping and bullying his way into Satoru’s ass.

Yuuji announcing his return to Gojou’s house: "Satoru-san, I’m home." Satoru freaks out, asks what he’s doing there, tries to wriggle off Gojou’s dick; unsuccessful. Yuuji comes in, freezes for a good few seconds, and Satoru blurts out something like "I can explain." Position: Gojou sitting on the edge of the bed with Satoru’s back to his chest, cock fully buried. Hands on his chest, plucking at the nipples.

Yuuji unfreezes to say “Satoru-san, what do you think you’re doing” and the tone is just complete exasperation. Satoru.exe stops working. Gojou’s just amused. Yuuji casually walking closer: “Did he bully you into this, Satoru-senpai? You look a little bullied.” Satoru.exe still isn’t working. Yuuji kisses him. That does not help. After, Gojou whining about Yuuji kissing Satoru first, and Yuuji casually bracing himself on Satoru’s chest/shoulders to lean in and ask Gojou whether he deserves a kiss after pulling something like this + “You didn’t even wait for me!” Gojou says he wouldn’t have had to go this far if Yuuji had just dragged Satoru to their bed when he started being a brat, but no, he was all about respect and restraint—“You’d think you’d know to handle me at this point.” Yuuji just says he doesn’t think Gojou’s handling it all that well either. He does kiss him though. Satoru’s 6E letting him see the easy and confidence of it crystal clear—Yuuji’s hand on Satoru’s jaw, thumb dipping into his mouth with his tongue; the bite that makes Gojou’s cock twitch inside Satoru. Satoru finally snaps out of it and asks what the hell is going on.

Yuuji kisses Satoru again. Then Gojou takes over. Yuuji really appreciates the show. Work up to Gojou offering Satoru to Yuuji: Gojou pulling his cock out and spreading Satoru open—not just his legs but his hole too. Satoru's protesting but the words dry out when he sees the way Yuuji's looking at his ass. Gojou asking if Yuuji wants to have a go—he doesn't mind it's sloppy seconds, does he? Yuuji very much doesn't, dipping in a couple of fingers to pretty much just grope Satoru inside, and if shouldn't feel like anything with how open he is from Gojou's dick, but Satoru feels like he's dying anyway. Yuuji takes his fingers out and says not yet, settles in for a show.

There's a hell of a lot more; I wasn't kidding about the double penetration.