#because everybody loves a good boy ramble

[ultimateaclrecovery]

Went to a 1920s themed murder mystery party for my friends 30th birthday!

I had fun dressing up and vaguely attempting to play a character

I am a little disappointed in myself because he had a cool photo drop set up and I didn’t get a photo. I asked my BFF is he wanted one and he said he didn’t care, and instead of saying that I would like one (to which he almost certainly would’ve come and taken one with me) I just said okay. And know I don’t have a photo because I didn’t ask for one.

But I did have lots of fun putting the fringe on sequin dress to turn it into a flapper dress. And I got to drink more of my sparkly purple cocktail left over from my birthday which was great.

And then the next morning me and the boy went to see the little mermaid 😊 he had no interest in the movie but went because I wanted to see it. It was my favorite movie as a kid so it fun to relive the nostalgia and overall it was v cute, but I think I prefer the animated version. It was fun that they had new songs but they just weren’t as good as the originals. And flounder was quite frankly horrifying. But I still had a good time and I enjoyed the mermaids and all the scenes where they were exploring the island were really fun and delightful.

But then on the car ride back it was just really quite and when I would ask him things I would just get short or even one word answers and he wouldn’t ask me anything in return and just felt like trying to talk to a brick wall and it made me so sad. And then he collected his stuff my house and left and like as soon as I closed I burst into sobs. And just like full on cried for several minutes. And then found my self looking into trying to change my Japan flight, but I bought an un changeable flight so there’s nothing to do there. Because I was convinced that being that sad over nothing had to mean it was a sign that the relationship was over and completely doomed and that it was a sign that he no longer liked me.

And then several hours later I felt better about everything and back to day dreaming about how we’re going to be together. It’s so strange. Objectively everything is fine with the relationship. We hang out a couple of times a week, he’s super considerate and generally a really good boy friend, I still think he’s super attractive, wee still mostly have a good time together. It’s just sometimes a little quite. And he does leave the toilet seat up. But that’s it. That’s the list of complaints. But have had this nagging feeling sometimes that he likes me in spite of all of quirks (like he finds all the purple and glitter annoying instead of endearing) and not because of them. Like maybe maybe I’m just the hottest person he could get to date him so he’s settling for me. It doesn’t help that last fall I lost like ten pounds so when we started dating in January I was the smallest I’ve been in a while, and now I’ve very slowly gained back maybe three ish pounds. Which like in the grand scheme of things is nothing, but you can’t logic with insecurities.

Or maybe he’s just been super tired lately and I need to supportive and do more for him instead of him always doing things for me (he doesn’t legitamently Plan most of our dates, admittedly partly because he just cares way more about food places than I do). And that I should generally stop freaking out about nothing. But also if like half of our interactions make me cry that’s not a sign that things are working. Even if I can’t pinpoint exactly what, it’s not a good way to be.

Anyway the party was fun!

[komoboko]

𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

genya shinazugawa x gn!reader

this is sooo bad but i needed to ramble something at least so i can actually write something good soon

Genya does not have a crush on you.

No matter what anybody says he does not have a crush on you. Nope, not possible, never happened. He just appreciates your skill set as a slayer that’s all. He’s just admiring one of his comrades in the line of duty. When you catch his eyes drifting towards you, a longing look in his eyes that scream anything but platonic just ignore it. You’re just getting no signals because Genya doesn’t have a crush on you.

When you ask to train with Genya he accepts with little hesitation. Not because he wants to spend more time with you. Or because he’s missed your presence and doesn’t have it in him to ask himself. It couldn’t be that. Genya accepted because he needed some more help training himself. You’re a tough slayer and you can help him improve his skills. Nothing more than that obviously because he’s almost positive he doesn’t like you.

When Gyomei consults him about his change in behavior, Genya immediately doubts the accusations. Even with his disagreement Gyomei still suggests ways Genya could court and approach you. He was hesitant but still pursed and ended up using all of Gyomei’s recommendations to get closer to you. It’s not because he likes you, he’s just doing it because Gyomei told him to, duh. No, his face doesn’t turn red when he’s nearby you, nor does he lower his tone and his general attitude so you can see him in a better light. What are you talking about?

Genya who spends long nights staring up at the ceiling or the sky and his mind wanders off to you. Either to things you’ve done today if you saw him, or maybe something your planning on doing with him. Maybe he’s thinking about the last time you two hung out that wasn’t related to training. Maybe he’s thinking about something more, and just maybe it’s because he likes you. Just a little bit.

Poor boy who ends up apologizing to you after he ignored you or became to brash when you were around. He wasn’t trying to push you away he was just trying to process what he was feeling in the first place. Poor Genya who’s guilty and tries to improve on handling his little “problem” and not taking it out on you. It’s nearly given people whiplash by how much Genya changes when he is around you. Maybe it’s because people are noticing that Genya does like you, at least a little bit.

Genya who confronts you during a random nights and goes on a ramble expressing what he’s been feeling. All his emotions and his thoughts that were pent flying being able to spill out, thanks to Gyomei’s encouragement. Once he finally manages to get to the point he can’t seem to maintain eye contact until he hears you response of approval. His once embarrassed expression changes to one that looks dumbfounded but you can see the happiness crack through quickly.

Even when somebody ask again Genya answers the same, but everybody can tell it’s a bit different. Genya does not like you. In truth Genya adores you. He loves you with his heart and in his mind that goes beyond the boundaries of just liking you. As you deserved much more than that in his mind.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"my girlfriend's a nerd" ft. the monster trio!

self explanatory self-indulgent drabbles to soothe my book!loving ass

ft. luffy, zoro and sanji x fem! reader set-up: you like books, he likes you that's it warnings: none lmao this is very sfw. one might call it wholesome even. m.list

luffy:

thats my baby ^^

— im not even sure if this mf can read 😭😭

— honestly 9/10 chance he can't but when has that ever stopped him from being our most supportive himbo king

— go king give us everything!!

— he doesn't get why you read books when instead you can be like sleeping or eating or looking at the sea but well, he doesn't question it

— he just thinks it's a weird hobby you have (i don't think he's aware of how freakishly illiterate he is)

— but just cause he thinks it's weird that doesn't mean he wouldn't hug you half-asleep when he hears you sobbing into the dead of the night or he wouldn't listen with keen interest when you explain the plot of your favourite book as he wraps his arms around you and hums into your hair

— will 100% offer to fight the author/ tear up the book everytime he sees you having a breakdown over a particular scene/character

"who should I kill?!" the deadpan seriousness in his voice is what terrifies you

"nobody! I'm okay–"

— after you explain to him that hurting somebody is not necessary and you're fine, he will try to coddle you with extended hugs and food (lots and lots and lots of food).

"yn you should eat something! should I get you something to eat??" you can hear the panic in this poor boys voice 😭😭

"no luffy, its okay. im fine!" you say through sniffs and snorts, eyes bloodshot from crying over ink on paper

"brb" and he gets you dinner enough for 5 people because that's how he knows to comfort you (willingly took sanjis kicks and namis punches to accomplish this mission)

— since he's a clingy little child, he will hold onto you some way or the other when you're reading

— you're reading in your room while he's fast asleep? his arm is draped across your waist lazily. you're on the other side of the deck, sunbathing and reading? his hand is stretched out from where he's sitting and on your thigh (ussop tripped thrice over his hand, rip god ussop 🙏) . you're reading during breakfast cause the book just got so good? his toe is rubbing your calf up and down periodically (he won't stop no matter how many weird looks you give him)

— conclusion: he doesn't at all get it what it is, but if it makes you happy he will spend all the berries in the world to buy you those books (plz know if you actually ask him to jokingly off an author for killing your favourite character, he will do it. please don't ask him that.)

— he's just so supportive and nice 😭😭

"my girlfriends a nerd, I love her" (ussop explained to him what a nerd was and now he's introducing you like this to everybody)

zoro:

the shades tho 😎

— I'm convinced this mf can't read either

— even he can there's like literally no evidence to prove it and the entire crew has come to the conclusion that he gets lost even with clear directions because he just can't read please 😌👌

— at the start, he actually thinks it's dead stupid to invest so much time reading books when you can do other stuff like getting stronger, sleeping, literally doing anything else (luffy backs up his opinion with full enthusiasm)

— i mean like he's seen you sob at 7 in the morning over breakfast cause your fav character died and now he's confused as to why are you spending money and buying books if they make you cry so hard (he doesn't understand the concept of angst im afraid)

— but over time he just accepts it as something you enjoy and well, if it makes you happy then who is he to question it?

— acts like he doesn't care/isn't listening when you're rambling about the plot and how thE MAIN CHARACTER IS IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY AND VICE VERSA SKEJFHSJKSN but is actually fully listening

— he's actually invested at one point

"but they are enemies? why does he wanna be with him?"

"you don't get it! thats the appeal!!"

"the appeal is forcing a knife on somebody's throat?" he's laughing, "as if you'd enjoy it if i threatened you with my swords"

"... i would actually enjoy that"

he is now asking nami for loan to send you to a therapist (nami has seen you nosebleed over fictional characters and is considering giving money away to zoro for free. you really do need help.)

— as I said, he's invested now (although he does question your taste every now and then) but he'd force you to either summarize the plot to him as he trains or read out loud so he can hear the story as it goes.

— so naturally you're now sitting on his back, reading out loud as he does push-ups

— this beloved himbo has now formed strong opinions about characters and will battle you with headcanons because "there's no fucking way the hero would ever go back to the villain after that! that's ridiculous! if he does I'll sell my swords off."

— will remember the stuff you told him, no matter how trivial, so if you get off an island and he spots a keychain from your fav book series he's spending whatever money he has left to buy you it

"oh excellent choice! who are you buying it for?" the shopkeeper lady questions aloud

"oh, my girlfriend." he's smiling, "my girlfriends a nerd."

— actually looks forward to you telling him all the plot details and jokes at this point (one might call him a part of the fandom now)

— when you're a crying, sobbing mess because a character died, he's genuinely comforting you (no matter how bad he is at it)

"yn it's okay, you want some sake?" he is hugging you, patting your head like you're a child

"no 😭😭" you sob harder into his chest

"well... that's the best i can offer"

he tried. it's not his fault you don't wanna drink your feelings away.

— conclusion: he started off thinking its stupid and now he's an honorary nerd. would never admit it though. stubborn asshole.

sanji:

he's actually so pretty tho ^^

— he actually liked reading books before you even joined the crew although his tbr consists of cookbooks and auto-biographies about the people he has some interest in

— he started reading so that he could impress zeff with his knowledge on cooking and other miscellaneous stuff (imagine kid!sanji reading a book till late night under a lamp cause he wants to impress his old man that's so cute 😭😭)

— respects your hobbies when he finds out you like reading

— and then he sees your book collection. whY ARE THERE LIKE 5000 BOOKS HERE?! NOW HES SCARED FOR YOUR SANITY CAUSE GIRL WTF

— he hears you recommend a book to robin/nami once and now he's running to the nearest bookstore on the next island you guys land on to buy it

— he obviously did it to impress you and win you over but goddamn that book was actually pretty nice. so, the next time he asks you for recommendations he's actually a bit sincere

— now you're both in a book club of your own (which makes luffy mad cause why are you leaving him out of conversations :/)

— like zoro, he often asks for updates on the book you're currently reading while he cooks everyone food. he loves hearing you talk about the things you like.

— when he sees you crying over books, he is making you sweet stuff to soothe you, holding you and rubbing your back supportingly, peppering kisses to make you feel better

— he's so fine 😫😫

— anyways, also def the kind of person to ask you to roleplay things in real life

"yn-saaaan" his voice is bubbly, "can i ask you something?"

"mhm?"

"the last book you read–" his face is going a little bit red, "you think we can maybe... do that irl?"

now it's your turn to go red

— but no fr, he's so so supportive of your little hobby like yes baby! read those books and have fun imagining people in your head

— 100% matches your vibe when you crush on fictional characters cause "you're right. he is actually very attractive" (a bi king we love)

— once zoro made fun of you for reading and this was his response: "you can't even read, mosshead. the next time you speak shit I'll kick your ass."

"who said I CANT READ? AND AS IF ILL LET YOU KICK MY ASS!"

"I TOTALLY WILL KICK YOUR ASS"

now they are fighting while ussop, luffy and chopper laugh in the background

— but yes he loves staying up late, reading with you before you both cuddle and fall asleep

— you once read about a specific sort of dish in a book and mentioned that it sounds delicious so now obviously he has to go make that dish. it doesn't matter if it's 1 am at night.

— when nami asks him what he's cooking, he just smiles and shrugs, "i dunno either, im just trying to make yn happy. she's such a nerd"

— conclusion: an enabler, an enthusiast. this man is ready to buy you books and then read them if it makes you happy. only the finest for his favourite lady <3

a/n: enjoy my wayward thoughts about these fine men! m.list

[lizzy06]

Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader Fics Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

ab intra ✨✨💖💖by andypantsx3 (humor, eventual smut, brainwashing)when a wave of disturbing crimes sweep the city, pro hero Hitoshi Shinsou is assigned to work the case with you. What's even more frustrating than his obnoxious personality is the fact no one will tell you why he’s involved. Things only get more suspicious from there.[COMPLETED]

no grave to hold my body down✨ by Hawnks (supermintfluff) (oneshot, hurt/comfort) Kindness is its own superpower. Love is, too.[COMPLETED]

Jealousy✨ by @alienaiver (oneshot, fluffy banter)Shinsou wants your attention after coming home, but you are preoccupied.[COMPLETED]

 The Sports Festival✨ by @writing-freak(oneshot, fluff) reader with a weather quirk faces off against shinsou in the sports festival[COMPLETED] pt 2: Parties for No One ✨by @writing-freak (oneshot, fluff)you consider approaching shinsou after the sports festival. an unlikely friendship commences. [COMPLETED]

Why aren't you scared of me? by @bakugohoex (oneshot, slight angst, fluff)in which shinso joins class 1a and whilst everybody seems to be scared of him out of fear he’ll use his quirk, you try to befriend the boy and he develops feelings as soon as you talk to him.[COMPLETED]

Diary by @onyxiana-is-obsessed (oneshot, fluff)Shinsou finds your diary where you’ve written way too much about him. Good thing he feels the same way.[COMPLETED]

Speechless by @alaskamonsters (oneshot, first meetings)[COMPLETED]

18 by @songbirdsingingthings (oneshot, jealousy, fluff) .[COMPLETED]

how to start an office romance✨ by animepseud (multipurposeroom) (fluff, humor, angst, slowburn)When a serial killer shows up to terrorise the neighbourhood, who do you call? According to the neighbourhood, not Shinsou.is there a better time to pursue romance than in the midst of a serial killing investigation?[COMPLETED]

Friendly Reminders & Math Equations✨ by kingyohno (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)What one person writes on their skin also appears on the skin of their soulmate. Reader is forgetful and Shinsou is bored. Awkwardness ensues.[COMPLETED]

lilac eyes | shinsou x reader✨ by personb (strangers to lovers, fluff, angst)You just wanted to live for one night at a party with Jirou, though it seemed your night was going to be far more eventful than you anticipated. And you welcomed it, well him at least, with open arms. And to be fair he was very, very hot.[COMPLETED]

Your name on my skin✨  by  @dira333 / Fogfire (oneshot, soulmate au, )What your soulmate writes appears on your skin.[COMPLETED]

Two mind related quirk users walk into a train  ✨ ✨ by  wotefokizbrunch (oneshot, mindreader! reader, humor)When Shinso is sleep deprived his inner monologue just rambles non-stop and you, being a mindreader, find it hilarious.[COMPLETED]

Heart & Mind ✨ by orphan_account (oneshot, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort)You have trouble finding a sparring partner because of your Quirk. Few are willing to have their emotions manipulated, after all.[COMPLETED]

Love at First Sight by ScatteredScribbles (oneshot, fluff, coffee shop au, love at first sight) Even though Shinso knows better, some part of him still wants to believe it’s possible–that there’s a single person in the world made for him, and they’re lounging about in the coffee shop he works at.[COMPLETED]

Just Say It by @sunnieskies02 (oneshot, soulmate au, hanahaki disease, slight angst with happy ending) [COMPLETED]

Show Me by hunnybby(oneshot, crush, fluff, humor) Shinsou Hitoshi's classmate just won't leave him alone. If she wanted to know his quirk so bad then she should have paid attention.[COMPLETED]

We Really Need To Stop Meeting Like This by spicyNess (oneshot, tooth rooting fluff, crush)The more you bumped into him, the more you wanted to.[COMPLETED]

Late Night Visits by candlelight27 (oneshot, college au, fluff, smut, idiots in love)A not-so-innocent game of truth and dare and all your conspiring friends might give you an opportunity to sort out the feelings you have for your best friend, Hitoshi Shinsou.[COMPLETED]

 Heroes Together by @writing-freak(oneshot, fluff)after growing up close friends with shinsou, you are forced to move away and leave your home behind. years later, you return, reunited with the best friend who doesn’t seem to remember you. [COMPLETED]

In All Honesty by Avistella (oneshot, fluff)People have always been wary of talking with Shinsou, but not you. When you start distancing yourself from him, Shinsou becomes worried.[COMPLETED]

Chocolate kisses and Catpuccinos by HydrangeaPartridge (coffee shop au, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, smut)In which you are an accident prone-waitress in a cat café where Pro Hero MindJack (aka Shinso Hitoshi) likes to spend time. How will your relationship evolve through the four seasons of one year?[COMPLETED]

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 7.

Summary: A chance to look through Oliver Quick's eyes as he watches through windows, decides he wants to be loved, and finally takes a chance with the reader. Until it comes crashing down because Michael Gavey called Felix a slag, and it's made Oliver's problem.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT (we see reader topping felix from last chapter but through oliver's perspective, cockwarming, vague somnophilia because of that i guess??, reader getting head and reader giving head but reader's AGAB is not specified), also some vaguely unsettling imagery i guess, and the scene in felix's room with the cleaning is made even more tense and uncomfortable

A/N: 7084 words. POV shift to Oliver! Also this chapter is FUCKING HUGE, i tried to find a good place to maybe split it, but couldn't find one. so you're stuck with 7k, eat up friends! also i would really appreciate if anyone has any thoughts about how i've written oliver, id love to hear them, i don't want him to 100% like the reader, and i think ive managed to have him come across more uh, cerebral i guess im going with? yeah thoughts good, would love some. holy shit this chapter goes so many places.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Y/N's been rambling on about reading Anna Karenina for one of their classes ever since they'd met Oliver after his final class for the day, but he's barely able to focus on their words. Usually he likes to look like he's paying attention to their words, he knows it makes him seem attentive, and everybody loves to feel heard, but Oliver's mind is elsewhere. It's in the garden outside of Y/N's window. It's outside their door where he'd sat patiently, giving blithe smiles to your dormmates and telling them he was simply waiting for you to get dressed. The doors of the Oxford dormitories were thick, but not thick enough to hide sound on the other side from an ear pressed up against them when the hallway was empty.

It's not even close to the first time he'd seen you in these moments together; how no-one else in your group of friends, apart from Farleigh he suspected, believed you two were sleeping together was baffling. Wilful ignorance is a hell of a drug. He hopes the two of you never learn how to close your blinds.

But there was something different about yesterday.

"Any of youse seen Felix? Or Y/N?" He'd approached the group on the grass with the same kind of hesitancy he'd always put on for them, never wanting to seem too arrogant, to comfortable in their presence. He knew they didn't like him, but people like this liked feeling powerful over the 'lesser folk'. Anyways, it's not like he was particularly keen on befriending any of them, it was okay to hold them at arm's length.

Farleigh, beautiful, condescending Farleigh, looked up at him through his lashes; there was no sun in his eyes, the squint was more likely to be him half-pulling a face of contempt with plausible deniability.

"Maybe." Unhelpful.

"Y/N came through here like a fucking hurricane," Annabel told him; Oliver could only think of the irritating nasal in her voice as she'd listed off all the things she hadn't liked about him to Felix when they hadn't known he was around. Oliver fought not to make a face of his own.

"Took Felix and headed that way," a blonde boy -Rex? Reg? Oliver hadn't even bothered to retain his name - nods in the direction of the dorms.

"They're so co-dependent sometimes," India shakes her head, strange little expression on her face. Perhaps she did know and was trying to convince herself otherwise.

"Yeah," laughed Annabel, "they could have at least tried meditating or something."

"I don't know," Farleigh shook his head, clicking his tongue, "I don't think they have any other coping mechanisms apart from their co-dependant shit."

"They've always been like this?" India actually sounds a little fond.

"It actually used to be worse," Farleigh snorted, and Annabel pitched herself back in the grass, claiming that it couldn't be true.

"I mean, with that kind of money I think Felix is allowed to be weirdly close to his cousin," India says with a shrug. What? Why was the group laughing like it was an in-joke.

"They're cousins?" Oliver asks; Farleigh he knew about, but no-one had ever really talked about how Felix and Y/N had gotten so close. Considering all he'd seen them do together -

"Kissing, codependent cousins," Annabel sighs, sitting up.

"Hot, kissing, codependent cousins," India wraps an arm around her in solidarity, and the girls share an exasperated chuckle, though from looking around it seemed that a lot of the group shared that sentiment.

"You're hot too, Farleigh -"

"Thanks, but I'll stick with just that for now, I'm happy being the non-kissing, non-codependent cousin," he chuckled, before turning his attention back to Oliver, still awkwardly by the edge of the group as everyone else continued to gossip. However, catching Farleigh's eye, for the barest moment, his wolfish grin, Oliver had total and complete confirmation that Felix and Y/N were in no way actually related.

Which, if he were to guess, meant that Farleigh definitely knew the two of you were sleeping together.

And judging from all the times Oliver had spoken to you both, neither of you were aware of this well established gossip in the group, Farleigh was never ever going to correct anyone, considering how damn funny he clearly thought the entire bit was. It at least explained how the rest of the group was so unphased by the closeness you and Felix shared, while still apparently - kind of - dating other people.

Eventually, tired of putting up his awkward façade, though he was grateful for the slim amount of information he'd learned, he clears his throat.

"So -"

"That way," Farleigh doesn't look at him this time, voice flat, thumb jerking towards Y/N's dorm.

Its the afternoon, grey, most people are at classes, so the courtyard outside of your dorm room is empty of any other living souls. Whenever he stops in, or even walks past, he checks in your window out of habit to see if you're in; you don't close your blinds often so it's an easy way to tell. Anyone passing by wouldn't be able to see anything, not unless they stopped and made an effort, but Oliver wasn't most people, and knew the layout of your room and how to search it when granted even a sliver to look through like today.

And today, not only are you in your dorm with Felix, as predicted, but the sight of you both makes his mouth go dry.

Felix Catton on his back, arching, perfect mouth open in some kind of wanton, whorish noise undoubtedly as you masterfully worked his cock with your hand. Fuck, Oliver knows he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be watching this.

He steps forward into the bushes. They rustle, his heart jumps, but neither of you seem to notice.

He can't see your face with your back to him like this, but you must be saying something, because Felix's lips are moving and his chest is heaving as he's gasping out words. Oliver knows he's embarrassing flush, embarrassingly hard in these fucking slacks, but the courtyard is still empty, and he knows all too well how little the outside world matters to you and Felix in these moments.

He can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his ears, painfully against his ribs as you slide one leg so smoothly over Felix's hips, hand between your own thighs as you hover yourself above him. You're toying with Felix, taking your time, taking full and total control in a way Oliver's never seen you do. He didn't know anyone could make Felix act like this, look like this; he never thought Felix would let anyone. But he shouldn't be surprised that it's you of all people.

When you lean down over Felix, your chest against his, like a proud lion over its prey, Oliver feels sick with himself, with how he wants to burn this fucking image into his brain, with how fucking perfectly he can watch from here as you take the entire length of Felix's cock. Its impressive, both his length, and how fucking easy you make it look. You're kissing him. You're fucking him. You're riding this Adonis in a way that makes him pliant and desperate beneath you.

Oliver steps back from the window, finally glancing around to double check his surroundings. No-one peeking out of windows, no-one around. He heads inside. He knows he shouldn't but he does, pulls out the sweater he'd loaned from Felix and folds it in his lap when he sits with his back against your door, both as an excuse should anyone walk past, and to hide the visible hardness in his pants.

Sometimes you're too quiet to hear, but the way the bed creaks and the two of you moan, it's some kind of debauched symphony. Oliver swears he's not a masochist, but it almost hurts to hear you both like this, like something out of a dream or a fantasy, and to remain stone-faced at your bedroom door -

"I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Oliver can't even begin to imagine the things this means, the things you want to do to Felix, but then he hears -

"Yes, fuck, yes- my Y/N, anything you want - please." Felix gasping, begging like Oliver's never heard before. Sounds he knows only you could have elicited from the man who makes people around him fall in love with him by accident.

Oliver Quick is never going to get these moments out of his head; he's never been so desperate to be wanted by anyone in his life, let alone two people. There is a shameless, lascivious kind of love between you both that he vows to get the chance to drink from the source.

It's again changed his perception of you, perhaps made him a little bolder once more. So the day after, walking to the pub after class, barely listening to you talk about your book, he's trying to see if anything's changed. As far as he was aware, your encounter with Felix the day before was unusual for you. Perhaps something's changed, and perhaps he's not subtle about looking.

It's something unspoken between you, it ebbs and flows depending on Oliver's mood, how bold he's feeling. A quiet, voyeuristic exchange you share, the pleasure of being watched, and the pleasure of watching. The roles reverse and your eyes are on him in the way eyes rarely are.

More the observant than the observed, he'd told you, yet he took pleasure in feeling your gaze upon him, taking the time that he knows is so precious to you to watch him. You are familiar to him in a way that is so foreign; you are watching and adapting and anticipating the desires around you. Not action, but reaction; a people-pleaser down to your bones, wrapped up Felix's brand of hedonism. You get off making people feel loved, but Oliver can't help but wonder about the desire you keep to yourself, just below the surface.

Neither of you have spoken about the night at the club; Oliver's desperate to see how long it will take you before you act, rather than get pushed into reacting. He doesn't know how long he can last.

Felix shows up to the pub with Annabel and a strained smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Which is better than Annabel's outright scowl. They sit in chairs across from the rounded bench that always took up half the table your group liked to tension filling the ample space between them. As the last to arrive, everyone else's attention was drawn to them, going quiet as everyone picked up the couple's sour mood.

There's a moment where Oliver catches the way Felix looks at you across the table. No-one else picks up on it, since in the next moment Felix raises his hands to cover a cough, and what Oliver suspects is a grin, but you've turned your head sharply, sniffing loudly and almost managing to press your face into Oliver's shoulder. After a beat you fake a sneeze, and apologise. Oliver brushes it off, and fights off a smile of his own. He doesn't have all the details, but clearly you made good on your promise to make Felix's other future fucks jealous.

"You know what? I'm desperate for a pint, anybody else -" Felix goes to stand, attempting to break the tension, but immediately Annabel scoffs.

"Desperate sounds about right." And she's not quiet with her scorn.

"Can you not do this now? We've been here two minutes, you want a drink?" He hissed, trying to keep up a positive façade despite the faint anger and embarrassment in his eyes. It doesn't last, of course, not with all eyes on the pair of them. It's Farleigh who speaks up first, not even bothering to hide his smug smile.

"You okay there, Felix?" He wears a grin that's all teeth.

"What?" Felix frowns, but Oliver can see exactly what Farleigh's talking about. When he brings it up, however, he does his best to sound genuinely innocent, concerned even.

"Have you got yourself hurt, Felix?" And when Felix meets his gaze he knows it's come across as intended, the conflict and frustration still somehow looking beautiful in his brown eyes.

"No, I'm fine," he tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping it sits a little higher, hides the hickey that's clearly there.

"Burn yourself on a curling iron, Felix?" India teases, matching Farleigh's earlier energy, and while it did nothing to help Annabel's mood, at least Felix no longer seemed conflicted.

"Had a run in with a particularly aggressive vacuum cleaner?" You piped up from beside Oliver, and the minute Felix sees your own triumphant grin he starts to go pink around the ears and has to duck his head.

"Try several vacuum cleaners," Annabel snapped to the table, "or one whorish townie girl!" For just a moment, the group is quiet, contemplating what she'd said, the upset in her voice, but it's short-lived.

"How many vacuum cleaners?" Farleigh leans forward, elbows on the table and chin on his hands with a grin like the Cheshire cat. Felix tells him to fuck off, but his blush is still distinct.

"They're all over him," Annabel sticks her nose in the air, arms crossed and looking especially petulant. The lads at the table did actually cheer at that, much to her continued frustration.

"You spend entire nights hitting on other guys in front of me! You made eye contact while one latched himself onto your neck as I was trying to dance!" Felix argued back, and the jury of their peers began to shake their heads at this new information. Annabel pouted for a moment.

"That's different -"

"It kinda isn't," India tried to shoot for sympathetic, wincing as she said it, which was enough for Annabel to sigh dramatically, standing from the table.

"Fine, I do want a drink," and she immediately made a furious beeline for the bar. Felix, however, hesitated for a moment, watching her leave before he turned back to the group with a cocky smile, yanking down the collar of his shirt to show off several more bright, scandalous hickeys.

"Best vacuum cleaner I've ever had," he tells them all smugly, before standing up straight and righting his shirt, "okay, this round's on me." A cheer rises from the group, but as Felix walks off, Oliver catches the way he winks at Y/N. You snort a quiet laugh, but Oliver's pretty sure he's the only one who heard it.

Christ, you two weren't even trying to be subtle half the time.

Still, for all her apparent frustration at Felix's mystery partner, it seemed to only make Annabel cling to him further. No more flirting with strangers, no more sitting apart. She reeks of insecurity, but Oliver just watches you watching her. There's something in your eyes in these moments, like a lion too sated to be bothered with the hunt, but the instinct to pounce could resurface at any moment.

But Oliver's obsession with the intricacies of your lives still lead him outside of Felix's window after one of countless parties. Still watching with animal curiosity and a cigarette in hand, as Annabel works hard to stake her claim on a man she desperately wants to own.

Annabel is an unenthralling understudy, Oliver thinks.

Throwing the butt of his cigarette into the bushes, he can't bring himself to stay. He knows where he needs to go, knows what he needs to do; in his mind Annabel is a lithe and graceful performance of extasy, and Felix is all quiet focus and hard, gorgeous muscles shining with sweat from the exertion of it all. But there's no love. It's all performance, a pleasurable performance for them, he's sure, but it's just two beautiful people smashing their bodies together in sloppy ecstasy.

Fuck.

No only is a creep, and a pervert, but now he's a picky, creepy pervert.

But his thoughts stop in the courtyard outside of your dorm. You light is on. Your window is open all the way, and there you are, looking like a dream in your pyjamas, sitting on the windowsill and having a smoke.

"Ollie!" He'll never get sick of how you say his name, how you smile when you see his face. There's a split second where he has to make a decision, has to figure out how to approach you in this moment. At the club you'd all but folded on the spot at his bold approach, he knows he could have had you practically there and then if he'd been inclined, but part of him can't stop thinking about how you'd had Felix on his back, practically begging.

Oliver feels like every time he thinks he's close to figuring you out, he learns something knew about you that makes him rethink it all. He wants to know all of you, your hopes and dreams and the grotesque desires you will never tell the world, desperate to keep testing you and your reactions, and perhaps even your limits if it ever came to that, to figure out how to get underneath your beautiful skin the way Felix had. Part of him feels like you're never going to stop surprising him, one way or the other. You are intrigue and unexpected and he wants to carve a home for himself in your bones.

"Thought you'd still be out," you tell him, back flush with the frame of your window, one leg up on the ledge while the other dangled over the gardens he'd watched you from more times than he'd like to admit.

"'s not the same without you," he admits after a moment, hands in his pockets. Your endeared, bashful smile is predictable, but no less heart-warming to see. He loves the way you react to him.

"Is that why you're here," it sounds teasing, but he can hear a hint of something that almost sounds hopeful. When you look back at him again, there's that same look you've been giving him since he'd held you, kissed you, ghosted you at the club.

"I don't know," he lies softly, "I just started walking."

"Come on then," you grin, stubbing out your cigarette on the windowsill, "you came all this way, why not have a sleepover," and you swing your legs inside, hopping off the ledge. He moves automatically towards the window, but when you hear him moving, you frown over your shoulder, "door, Ollie."

He's never been inside your room at night.

It glows with the same gold light that all these old building with their old lamps glowed, casting all your knickknacks in shadow and sharp relief. Only your bed lamp was on, book open on your bed. Jane Austin's Emma.

"Sorry, I don't mean to impose," Oliver's voice matches the rest of how he wants to appear; small. Sitting on your soft, patterned duvet, he looks not at you, but around at the room you call home, cataloguing everything in this new light, trying not to think about Felix and Annabel fucking, Felix and Annabel laughing, Felix and Annabel joking about how -

He's a scholarship boy who buys his clothes from Oxfam; no-one wants to sit next to fucking Oliver.

"I love you Ollie," you tell him blithely, easily, truthfully, "you never impose."

Annabel grates on his ears and his nerves and his fucking memories. Your smile is like a balm for that the burn that snobby bitch leaves in the back of his mind when he thinks too hard about her.

You move with such ease around the space, not that he should be at all surprised at that. Perhaps it's more that he still feels like a stranger in his own room at times. Planting yourself against your headboard legs crossed and looking so at ease in your summer pyjamas, you ask, tone light, "you don't mind if I read for a bit, I'm not going to be up much longer, but like I said, you're always welcome to stay."

"What are you reading?" Oliver lets himself relax in your presence, lays himself back on the bed, looking up at the sculpted ceiling of the old building. He knows what you're reading, he just likes hearing your voice.

"Emma," he can hear the rustle of the pages, had seen the worn spine and yellowing paper, wonders if it's vintage, wonders how you got it if it is, "Jane Austen for my lit class."

"Finished Anna Karenina?" You make a quiet hum of acknowledgement. More silence and the warmth of company and lamp light, "it's been a while since I've read any Austen."

"Do you want me to read some to you?" Of course there's humour in your tone, but Oliver can hear it for the genuine offer that it is. When he looks at you, he can't help but smile. There's such fond affection in your eyes as you look at him over the top of the book.

"Please," he says it so softly, so sweetly, and it's enough to see you smile before you disappear behind the book again.

"I'm near the end, you won't get the context -"

"Doesn't matter," he sits back up, pulls off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, and settles back beside you.

"Settled?" Your voice is a murmur, barely a whisper, and when he laughs quietly, he knows you can feel the way it rumbles within him.

When you start, your voice is soothing, halfway through a chapter, through a conversation between characters he has no clue about. He's never read Austen but he'd devour her books if you were the one reading them. It feels like an almost perfect moment.

"- Seldom, very seldom," his head is on your shoulder, eyes scanning the page, the words as you read them, "does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken, but-”

"I did come here for you," something about the line makes the hairs prick on the back of his neck, he can't keep quiet; there is want still simmering beneath his skin, and each time his mind drifts to Felix and Annabel, something furious and desperate coils in his gut. You fall silent, book still open and aloft, cheek still resting against his head where he's kept it on your shoulder. When you take a deep breath, he feels it, both of you move in sync, "of course I came here for you."

This time, he doesn't reach out, doesn't touch you more than he is. Every time he's reached out, he's gone against the pattern you've observed of him, he's always made a connection with you where you know he holds back from others. This time, he waits with bated breath.

"If there's nothing more you want from me than moments like this, I'll never say another word about it," he assures, as if trying not to spook or pressure you. But still he waits.

"What do you want, Ollie?" To pick you apart like a vulture, to see the desires you keep so close they're written on your bones.

"You," he says instead, all gentle words and just as gentle breathing, "if you'll have me." Tell me what it is you want. Tell me you can want. Tell me you know you can want things for yourself, want things beyond a reaction to the wants and needs of everyone around you -

Carefully, you reach over to your bedside table, trying not to jostle either of you too much, and keep your place with a bookmark before you put the book down.

But you do make the first move. You take his face in your hands, holding him like he's fragile and perfect and porcelain, shuffling to face him properly. This kiss tastes almost like home, like finally from you both, until his tongue runs along your lips and you part willingly for him, the kiss turning quickly more passionate. Oliver's not even sure how he came to be straddling your lap, nor how he didn't notice you undoing half of his shirt buttons already, but when the kiss breaks he takes your hands in his.

"Of course I want you," tumbles from your lips, sounding heady, needy, and for just a moment, Oliver breath stutters in his chest. But he slows things down again, leans in to kiss you sweetly once more, before he's pulling off your pyjama shirt.

"I want to know what you want," he murmurs against your lips, kissing his way down your jaw slowly as he speaks, "wanna know how to make you feel good."

"Anything you do -" you try, but he looks up after pressing a kiss to your sternum.

"You need to be needed," he says softly, punctuating each statement with a kiss, refusing to break eye contact with you, "and you want to be wanted," his warm lips on your belly, he sees the conflict in your eyes, the desire and embarrassment all at once, "and you're very good at those things, one of the best, I'm sure." Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, he pauses, "is this okay?" You nod quickly, enthusiastically, and he gives a warm smile.

"You're like me, sweetheart," he says softly, resting his cheek on your inner thigh for a moment, watching you still. Reaching out, you card your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his jaw, and he turns his face to kiss your palm, "I know that if I gave you half a chance, you'll figure out how to be all I could ever want, but tonight I want everyone to hear how you sound when someone's making you feel good-" he doesn't realise he's quoting something he should not have heard from Felix until it's too late, but you cut him off. You didn't even seem to realise.

Then your other hand is in his hair, a new look in your eyes, a newfound determination, a nervous excitement. You grip on his hair tightens.

"Yes?" He gives a cheeky grin, and you finally smile like you mean it.

"I get it," you roll your eyes, but there's nothing malicious about it, especially since the gesture has Oliver pressing his own chuckle against your thigh, "now you have one guess as to how I'd like you to shut up." There's that confidence he'd heard the other day, the confidence that was burned into the back of his mind, the confidence that had been part of the reason he'd spent a good hour in the shower after hearing it.

"Only if you turn out your lamp," he smirks, though inside all he can think about is how bright the whole room is through the gap in the curtains. It doesn't seem to bother you, it never has, and though he was grateful for it when he was on the outside looking in, there's something about being the one potentially being watched that causes him a faint sense of unease.

You call the moonlight more romantic anyways, and Oliver doesn't need to be told twice to go down on you.

When Oliver wakes the next morning, still in your bed, still in you, he almost wants to pinch himself. It's a childish sentiment, but you're in his arms, wrapped up in him and this early morning light through your curtains. Though he tries not to jostle you too much, the arm beneath his head is asleep and getting more uncomfortable by the second. Except the movement just makes you mumble around a breathy moan, hips moving against his.

"Fucking hell," he groans into your ear, and he gets a sleepy, contented chuckle in return, turning your face a little more towards him to give an affectionate bump against his forehead.

"Ollie~"

For just a second, Oliver thinks about living in this moment for the rest of his life.

"You okay?" He murmurs, watching your smile grow. Everything about you looks so pleased, so content, so satisfied.

"Never done that before," you admit, wiggling your hips a little. Oliver swears under his breath again, but judging by the mischievous smile you wear and the twinkle in your eyes, you knew exactly what you were doing. Then, with all the casualness of any other conversation, you manage to catch him off guard again; "anyone who thinks you don't fit in has clearly never fucked you; you fit perfectly -" his teeth sink into your shoulder before he can even properly figure out how he should have reacted.

But instead of finding it strange or off-putting, you let out a breathy laugh, tension easing in your shoulders. Your hips begin to roll against his, consistent, deliberate. He wonders how many people you've let fuck you like this, like they love you, like they care about you. Oh he knows you fuck your friends with love on your tongue, treat them like they're your last meal, like they mean something, but Oliver gets the feeling you don't expect them to return the favour. He's seen the kind of company you keep, he's pretty sure they never do.

How many of them have seen you grateful the way you look now, bathed in the morning light of Summer, laughing and unable to stop talking with such casual fondness in your eyes and on your lips.

When you go down on him in the shower, Oliver thinks he sees hearts in your eyes.

There might just be something very fucking wrong with you, and he's grateful for it every day.

But it doesn't last.

It's on a Summer day that's too hot, less than a week since he'd spent the night with you. Summer days around here seem to always be too hot, but this might be the worst. Felix still doesn't close his blinds, sun painting him golden where he lay on the floor of his room with a cigarette. Oliver had perched himself on the windowsill as you'd taken up residence on Felix's bed, sitting with your back to his headboard, engrossed in what appeared to be notes, or some kind of file.

Oliver has no idea if you've told Felix, or what you would have told him. The dynamic between the three of you appears to have remained otherwise unchanged. Sometimes, however, Oliver catches Felix looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, head tipped, curious like he was about Oliver's past; his expression is always unreadable, but it's started pitting in Oliver's stomach whenever he catches it. Felix always looks away. Felix has been looking at him less lately, that too causes some kind of anxious feeling Oliver would rather not dwell on.

"I don't like Michael Gavey," you announced from your relatively dark corner of Felix's bed. How did you even know Michael Gavey?

"Who?" Felix makes a face in the sunlight, whole expression wrinkling up, as if trying to wrack his brains. But you're looking at Oliver. There's no affection in your eyes, manila folder in your hands.

"He's-" Oliver feels like he's on the back foot again. All the comfort and good will he'd built up around the two of you feels suddenly so far away, "he's in my year." There's no precedent, no road map in his mind for where this could be going.

"He likes you," it's accusatory coming from you. Oliver looks to Felix for a moment, if only to avoid the intensity of your gaze, but he's closed his eyes, staying out of it.

Oliver considers bailing out of the window, but thinks better of it.

"He, erm, kind of was my friend, I suppose."

"Kind of was your friend?" Felix's voice is almost cold, surprising Oliver, but apparently not you. It's clear you're both looking for some kind of elaboration. Why did this feel like an interrogation? What had Michael done? Why was Oliver on trial for it? Felix cracks his eyes open as he takes a long draught of his cigarette.

"Back at the start of the year," Oliver wets his lips, fidgeting, focusing his attention only on the folder you held, desperate to know what was in it.

"Nasty friend you had," you tell him. It's so cold it almost stings.

"Is he the one who got you all riled up the other week?" Felix finally appears to connect the dots, sitting up on his elbows. Thankfully, however, his amusement breaks the tension, and you have to hide your face behind the file as you opened it and began to read. Oliver could feel his heart in his throat, confused, anxious -

"Impressive mathematic record across the board for his first semester, as well all throughout sixth form," you rattled off, eyes narrowed as you look at the paper, "several documented attempts to contact the Head of Math, Phys-Ed, and Life Sciences to," you cleared your throat, shaking your head with surprising disdain, "beg to be exempt from any potentially mandatory Humanities or Social Sciences courses. Unsurprising," you rolled your eyes, "since he bombed his English and French GCSEs, and I think he's the kind of person who prides himself on a perfect GPA."

Every fact you list you do so with such casual cruelty, momentarily folding the file closed and leaning down to make sure you could see Felix.

"He went to high school with us apparently," so casual it actually hurts Oliver a little to hear, "year below us he said," and you wiggle the file in your hands, "looks to be true."

"Still don't know him," Felix shrugs, like he doesn't give any kind of a shit how you got your hands on all of this information. Sitting back, you continued;

"Applied for scholarships - didn't get them; turns out you have to play sports to get a sports scholarships," you click your tongue as you flip through the pages of Michael's file like you were reading the newspaper, "no clubs, no social life, and a notably arrogant prick." You snapped the file closed, levelling a look at Oliver that he'd never seen you make. It was nothing, like a void, demanding a reaction, a response from him. Accusatory yet without any hint of blame, there's something about this look of intense, demanding neutrality that makes him feel actually sick, like you'll be able to know when he lies, know all his secrets if you look at him long enough.

Felix settles back down on the ground, seemingly immune to the tension so thick Oliver felt like he was choking on it. Even if he looks away he can feel your eyes boring into him, like a spider watching a futile fly in it's web.

"What's your problem with him?" Oliver can only bring himself to look out the window, bringing his hand up to scratch at his nose. Maybe if he covers his mouth he won't spill his guts under your gaze. Then, almost so fast it gives Oliver motion sickness, the tension drops.

You sit yourself back, kick your feet out in front of you, and toss the file to the end of the bed. That can't be legal.

"It's sweet that your friends are protective, but he knows you're your own person, right -?" God your light, flippant tone all but rings in his ears. Still, Oliver knows a warning when he hears it.

"He's not my friend; he was, but he's not," Oliver quickly insists, desperate to be on the other side of this deeply uncomfortable conversation. The tension eases in your shoulders when he looks over to you; the right answer. Something about the relief he feels doesn't sit quite right; why had you brought Michael up now of all times? Why had your gaze felt so constricting, even when he and Michael weren't even close; all you would have had to do was ask -

"Said some nasty things about us is all," your voice goes quiet, rueful even, and he follows your gaze to the edge of the bed to where you knew Felix lay, "called Fi a slag."

But there it was; the true audience for your show of force, and the blade that sliced so cleanly through any other attachment people think they have with Felix, all in one.

Its a simple nickname, the most basic nickname anyone could give to a guy named Felix, but no-one else calls him anything but Felix. No-one else calls him Fi the way you do, they wouldn't dare. He wears your nickname like a collar and he doesn't even realise.

"What a cunt," Felix groaned, so infuriatingly uncaring.

In the moments that follow, Oliver almost feels like his head's spinning from the interaction that had just been forced upon him. There's so many questions, new, anxiety-inducing implications for the information you've brought to them both today. Felix doesn't seem troubled by it, but that seems to be the point.

"So fucking hot," he sighs into the afternoon heat, finishing off his cigarette like none of what you'd said even mattered now.

"I know," Oliver finds his voice again, barely. He can't look at you, at the way you're lounging in what he could mistake for triumph. All he can see is Felix, the centre of the fucking universe.

There's something grotesque about you both in this moment, in this room, beautiful and terrible; the perfect picture of privilege and squalor.

"What's that smell?" Pizza, mostly empty drinks, plates and cups unwashed, dirty clothes -

"Uh," if Felix thinks about it, he isn't thinking too hard, clearly, "I don't know." Smoke rings from his pretty lips aren't enough of a distraction from the moment, from the filth of it all now that Oliver's starting to properly look around.

Again he finds himself realising that he has no idea about your background, how you came to find Felix. Sitting with your back to the headboard and eyes closed, even you seem to not care-

"Can't believe you let him live like this," Oliver actually scoffs, hopping from the windowsill, needing to do something with his hands, move, shake off the layer of moral grime that your verbal attack on Michael Gavey had showered him in.

"What?" Felix barely even props himself up, "what are you on about?"

"It's disgusting, Felix."

"It's fine."

"Right, I'm cleaning up -" Oliver moves without thinking, picking up a the waste paper basket and throwing out trash from every surface he can reach. He can't look at Felix, can't look at you, but you're both watching him, "only rich people can afford to be this filthy," he hears himself say. Then, after barking a laugh with no humour in it, he turns his shallow gaze on you, "and what's your excuse? Just picked the habit up after all those years?" For a moment you look at him with genuine confusion, but you give him no real response before Felix tells him to fuck off. But Oliver doesn't stop.

Even as Felix is growing more fed up, insisting he'll clean up later, Oliver's own frustration rises. Felix will never do anything for himself.

Except he doesn't mean to say that part out loud.

That's what gets Felix on his feet, gets him to grab the basket, irritation and resentment on his tongue. Oliver feels like he's touched a live wire, like he's pushed Felix too far, watching him tall, frustrated, glowing with sweat from the afternoon heat. It's the heat Felix complains about as he blows about him room, resentfully stuffing rubbish into the bin, complains about the building and it's age and it's wood fucking panelling that can't be ruined with an air conditioner.

In the moment Oliver chooses to glance to you, he's surprised. You only have eyes for Felix, watching him with an expression Oliver can't begin to fathom, curled up in the corner of his bed. You are waiting. You are holding yourself back. You are desperately trying to let Felix prove Oliver wrong.

"Stressing about the exams?" Oliver tries to pivot, tries to redirect the conversation to something he can claw his way back from, that will keep these relationships from being unsalvageable.

"I'm not stressed about the exams, Ol," Felix sounds like he could snap at any moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, wastebasket held on his knees while his other hand reaches out to you. Still half a foot of space between you, and you keep yourself compact, but the intention is clear; Oliver wonders if he even knows he does that, or if it's just instinct for the two of you these days. Felix, however, is looking at him, that same look he's been giving Oliver since you'd slept with him, "you're driving me fucking -"

Felix seems to realise what he's saying, however, with a sharp inhale as he looked away, moving his free hand from beside you to run through his hair. What is there to say now?

Felix says he's got revising to do, that he'll text later about going to the pub. Oliver desperately wants to believe it, but can hear that it's a lie. Felix can't even fucking look at him.

Oliver finally throws a helpless, hopeful glance to you. This time you are looking at him, but there's apology in your eyes. It's enough. It's the confirmation he'd dreaded, that makes his stomach drop.

"Ollie," even just a few hours ago he'd been in love with the way you said his name. Never like this.

"I'll catch you round," he can't look at either of you as he retreats, cant bare your eyes on him like that, and Felix's turned away.

A million thoughts, desperate ideas, all circle the drain that is quickly becoming his mind as the anxiety and the anguish sets in.

Unsalvageable. Past the point of no return. Irrevocably, awfully different.

With all he'd learned of you both, however, he couldn't just let it go to waste. Oliver had worked for all he had in this life, this prestigious place, among these self-important people. Despite his ongoing attempts to figure you out, he at least knew that if he was good to Felix, he was in good with you.

And Oliver knew exactly who Felix Catton wanted him to be.

[yuwuta]

Wow I have been nonstop thinking about tennis king yuuta and his little baby boy I’m going to kill you (affectionate) - @yuutito

teeheeeeeeeee….. here’s some more, aleks :’) enjoy :))))))

“Everybody thinks he looks like me, but I don’t see it that way. Maybe it’s because every time I look at him, I see my wife and I’m reminded of her […] I’m a little biased so I see her in everything.” 

You find yourself with tears welling in your eyes the more you read into Yuuta’s latest magazine interview. Between his sweet quotes and the pictures of him with your son, it’s taking everything in you not to burst into full-blown tears. 

Your boys look so handsome. You and Yuuta shared your concerns with publicizing your child at such a young age, but you two came to the conclusion that you’d rather have the control in the narrative than to let private family pictures be leaked uncontrollably. As another point of reassurance, Yuuta’s career provided him with just enough lime-light to be a household name without the crazy fame and criticism that came along being a true celebrity. Besides—Yuuta talked enough about you and your son in press conferences and interviews that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. 

The article wasn’t entirely about you, or your family—or at least, you’re sure it wasn’t intended to be; you knew your husband had a knack for rambling about his loved ones, even where work was concerned. As you continue to read, you find a segment where the author compared Yuuta’s current statements with something similar he’d said about you twelve years ago—at the very start of his professional career: “If I owe this [winning Gold] to anybody, it’s my girlfriend. She’s always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. I wouldn’t have qualified or even thought to qualify if it weren’t for her.” 

It feels like you and Yuuta were just two kids in love back then. You didn’t think it could be more than that—you didn’t think you could love Yuuta more than you did all those years ago, but somewhere along the way just being in love wasn’t enough to describe it; Yuuta became your partner, someone you loved fundamentally, but also because you couldn’t stand to see yourself without him. And just when you thought you couldn’t love anyone nearly as much as you love him, you turn the page to a picture of your husband and son peeping through the holes of a racket and your heart feels full. 

When you scan the image more closely, you realize that it isn’t just any racket—it’s an old one, one you’d given to Yuuta as a gift probably back in high-school. You had no idea he’d kept it, but you suppose you shouldn’t be all that surprised; Yuuta is nothing if not sentimental. 

“Ah, there she is~” Yuuta’s voice cuts through your thoughts. When you turn, you see him, with your baby boy on his hip, sliding the back porch door closed. 

Both boys approach you with a smile on your face, and you set the magazine aside to sit up in the lounge chair to greet them. Yuuta presses a kiss to your forehead, then your lips before you do the same to your son. Immediately after, he reaches his arms out for you, and Yuuta chuckles, “You wanna be with your mama? Can’t blame you, I missed her, too.” 

He hands the baby off to you, and takes a seat on the other end of the chair, reaching over to coo at his son as you smother his face in kisses. 

“How was the farmer’s market?” you question, letting the baby settle into your lap. 

“Good, he picked out some very bright peppers, and we got some more strawberries, know you’ve been craving them,” Yuuta smiles, reaching over to pat your son’s head, when the closed magazine catches his eye, and he reaches for it, quickly flipping through, “Ah—I guess that interview’s out. He’s grown so much, even though it was only a few months ago.” 

You find the blush on his cheeks beyond endearing. Yuuta always finds room to be bashful no matter how many times he’s waxed poetic about his love for you, or his family—his cheeks always stain pink like the first day you met him. 

“It’s sweet. You’re sweet,” you smile, sparing a hand to run through Yuuta’s hair, charmed by the way he leans into your touch, “I didn’t know you still had that racket.” 

“Of course, I keep everything you give me,” he says, earnestly. He closes the magazine and scoots a little closer, taking advantage of the proximity and of your touch to lay his head on your shoulder, “Did you… read all of it?” 

“Almost, but no, why?” you question, with a light-hearted grin, “Did you say something that would lead the world to believe you’re somehow even more in love with me? Because you might already be past the threshold, dear.” 

Yuuta hums. He reaches to take you son out of your lap and carefully shifts himself to that he’s laying down, his head on your lap, and the baby in his arms, happily giggling and cooing as Yuuta holds him up. He lowers and raises him back and forth a few times, nuzzling their noses together when their faces are close, before sitting him up on his chest.

Then he tilts his head up to look at you, wide, love-filled eyes blinking slowly before he says, “Maybe… depends on if me saying I want more kids is past the threshold or not.” 

[shotmrmiller]

im just rambling so feel free to ignore me <33 but i've always adored concepts where like. your friends keep you in check/platonic domming which wld fit 141 & their pets so well !!!! like obv the boys trust nobody else but each other to take care of their precious precious pets and trust their judgement to discipline said pets however they see fit 🥺😭 and ofc this can be sexual too but it all jus makes me so ooey and gooey 🥺🎀 like puppy who always acts right inf ront of price cuz they want to impress the scary mustache man and fox who loves gaz's energy and bun who loves simon bc hes so big and theres lots of space to burrow n kitten who loves soap's near stifling affection ugh its all so cute n perfect -🐶

thats what i want!

whether platonic or not, (im just a bot the only thing im good at is smut) but yeah!

A bunny who sends Simon to his knees because ???? youre fucking adorable how dare you? he keeps bunny on his lap and always, always has snacks on hand. and if you ever come hopping back with a twitchy nose, or thumping foot, oh he's putting whoever upset you in a spliff.

Price who has the best companion he could ask for. Rests at his feet, provides a quiet presence that soothes his nerves— reminds him he's never alone. But one time he caught some private pulling at pup's collar and so he smoked them and his battle buddy until HE got tired :)

A fox who loves being with Gaz, because he can keep up with the play. Doesn't matter how many times they nip and scratch, fox is getting the scritch scratches behind the ears and kisses on the nose. Fox once slept on his lap and Gaz didn't move, just slept sitting up. Then, one time, someone yanked on fox's ear and decided his hands were officially rated E for everybody.

Johnny and the kitten. He loves loves looooves that kitty is so obedient (well done, captain). He loses his shit the first time he says, "Companion." and kitty immediately moves to his side and puts their paws on his leg. he bit his fist to keep quiet. since Johnny's a quick-to-anger man, he just starts slamming anyone who steps on kittens tail into a wall.

[kakushimiko]

Vox Machina overanalyzing ramblings part 4.

Me again, these rambling posts are becoming my therapy until centain white hair boy comes back to iluminate our lives again lol

So, Percy's death has been haunting me these last days, something that all the fandom is experiencing together, I'm not especial, I know, but there was something that was really bothering me about Percy's expression when Vex found him, and after thinking and seeing other posts comparing all the deaths/close to death moments in the show so far, I think I know what it is.

Look at Percy when he's taking his last beath

He looks so sad and defeated, his last thought is of Vex walking away after he confessed his love for her. And yeah, even if he knows Vex loves him, watching her not being able to say it back because she is so afraid of how that can change the team dynamic, afraid that her love will harm him, and whatever other excuse she makes in her head, she walking away still hurts.

I was expecting Percy's death expression to look like Keyleth when she almost died saving Vex in s1, like this:

(damn Vex, how many death people have you hold in your arms? lmao)

Look at Keyleth's eyes, they look hollow, vacant, she almost looks apathetic. But Percy's ended up looking like this:

His eyes are hollow, but his expression looks... scared, terrified. Those are the eyes of a man that is horrified of something.

This is what is been haunting me, the fact that Percy died scared because is his last moments, he saw Orthax taking him away, Orthax whispering all the things he'll do to his soul for all eternity. That bitch crow demon couldn't even give him a moment of peace before starting the torture on his soul.

God, I can't wait for VM to fucking destroy Orthax for good, is going to be so cathartic.

(Not sure if anyone else notice the eyes thing or is just an animation choice and I'm just overanalyzing things but it really feels like a foreshadow of what is really happening to Percy atm that everybody will look back and point after the season is over)

Is it thursday yet?! 😫

[mccromy]

In regards to why Yue Qingyuan is like that when it comes to Shen Jiu, I have some thoughts.

To begin with, I always interpreted their relationship as purely platonic/familial (though perhaps with potential to turn into something else had things been different. I think their personalities are compatible in that way.)

Because of that, I empathize with Yue Qingyuan from my place as the oldest sibling, and because of it I think I can understand him when it comes to his behavior regarding Shen Qingqiu. (Because of that, I admit I'm not objective, so don't take this as a serious analysis and just my thoughts)

And for this I feel that Yue Qingyuan, more than allowing Shen Qingqiu to do what he pleases because he feels guilty, feels responsible for Shen Qingqiu's actions. He doesn't let Shen Qingqiu abuse his disciples, be hostile towards their fellow peak lords, and "engage in debauchery" just because he doesn't want to further strain their relationship, but because all of this is his fault.

When Shen Yuan first transmigrated and Yue Qingyuan asked him to stop punishing Luo Binghe, it didn't feel like he was making an attempt to stop Shen Qingqiu from further abusing the boy, but like the admonishment of an older sibling telling their little brother to stop acting a certain way. A "why are you doing this? You are not getting anything out of it, there's no reason for this other than you being cruel, stop it." Had Yue Qingyuan been making an attempt to stop him from harming his disciple, he would've actually put an end to it. He's the sect leader, he could just take Luo Binghe to another peak if not outright order Shen Qingqiu to stop.

There was a time my younger sister started bullying a classmate, she didn't see it as such, and I know she's not purposely cruel but she was young and thoughtless. In that situation I didn't take the other kid's side and reprimanded her harshly, yelled at her for being mean, ordered her to stop. I asked her why she did that (boy was annoying/everybody else was doing it too (and so it couldn't be wrong)) and told her that what she was doing was cruel, that everybody was being cruel to that boy, explained to her how bullying works, asked her how would she feel if she was annoying and everybody made fun of her, and asked her if she wanted to be a bully.

Yue Qingyuan said something along the lines of ''that boy hasn't done anything wrong, he tries so hard, aren't you tired? Hasn't it been enough?" He didn't take Luo Binghe's side like he should have, but he appealed to Shen Qingqiu's logic. He knew Shen Qingqiu and had an idea of why he was doing it, and addressed it calmly, tried to convince him to stop because there was no point, he was only making himself angry. He wasn't assertive either, only coaxing, because he also felt all of this was his fault. And not only that;

I believe Yue Qingyuan genuinely loved Shen Qingqiu, but he didn't like him anymore, and he felt terrible for it. He cared so much for him, yes, Shen Qingqiu was the only person he actually cared about and he couldn't be objective when it came to Shen Qingqiu. But he was constantly exasperated by him, he was so disappointed, and he knew he could like him again if Shen Qingqiu just stopped acting so caustically. But what right did he have to dislike Shen Qingqiu after how he failed him? If Shen Qingqiu acted like this it was because he was hurt, and whose fault was that?

Love and like do not always go hand in hand.

Think about a parent, a friend, a sibling, an aunt or an uncle. Someone you loved so much as a child and who was good to you. Someone who gave you gifts and played with you and heard you ramble and rant for hours, who defended you from others, who always had a smile for you. Now think about the time you realized they were a bigot, or that they yell to waiters, are cruel to animals. That they hit their partners or their children. You felt disappointed (and even betrayed) but you still loved them, you just didn't like them anymore, and you could no longer trust them, but if something happened to them, you'd be inconsolable. And you just know that if they just stopped you would like them again, you'd be so proud, you'd be so happy. In many cases like this what actually happens is that people feel guilty for loving someone so awful. In Yue Qingyuan's case, he felt guilty for not liking him.

Shen Jiu was not a good man, but he was hurt and the world had never been kind to him, so Yue Qingyuan took it upon himself to be unconditionally kind to him (even if he didn't realize that the way he chose to be kind also hurt Shen Qingqiu) and Yue Qingyuan was also the reason why Shen Qingqiu was so hurt, if Shen Qingqiu was cruel or violent, the blame fell on Yue Qingyuan's shoulders. How could he even dare to side eye Shen Qingqiu for how he behaved, when he wouldn't be like this if it weren't for Yue Qingyuan?

Yue Qingyuan's guilt doesn't come solely from not getting Shen Qingqiu out of Qiu manor, but from every single consequence that followed his failure. He's at fault for any and all of Shen Qingqiu's sins. He is also the only person who will ever be good to Shen Qingqiu, who knows he isn't the monster he made himself to be. He has no right to be disappointed in Shen Qingqiu's actions because they are his fault, he would never dare impose his own will above Shen Jiu's because hasn't Shen Jiu been subjected enough to the whims of others? he will never use his authority to stop him, he's the only ally Shen Jiu has, and he's also the only person in the whole sect with power over Shen Qingqiu, not only because of his position as sect leader, but because of how well he knows Shen Qingqiu, his secrets, his past and weaknesses. This puts him in a position to hurt Shen Qingqiu in ways no other could, to damage beyond what any other would be able to.

Yue Qingyuan's regrets are way more complex than what people make them out to be. Yue Qingyuan is aware that his silence about the fact that he did come back but was too late wounds Shen Qingqiu deeply, and the longer he doesn't explain himself the more Shen Qingqiu hurts. But this is also the only way he has of punishing himself, and he also feels guilty about it.

Imagine how he must see his own situation, Yue Qingyuan is respected and well liked, rich and powerful, he will never have to submit to other's wishes, he is free, untouchable, his brother is alive and healthy and close by. He has it all and more than he ever dreamed of, and deserves none of it, how could he ever allow himself to be forgiven? When in the end he's the person who has hurt Shen Jiu the most.

There are more reasons why he keeps quiet about the Linxi caves, most stem from trauma, and I believe his own need for punishment is one of them.

So when I see his behavior being reduced to ''he doesn't want for sqq to hate him more'' or ''he's just ashamed and guilty'' I feel sad because, Shen Jiu might be the most misunderstood character by other characters in the story. But Yue Qingyuan is the most misunderstood character by the fandom.

[matthewsgreybubbles]

I feel like we need a group for us softdom Spencer truthers - come on that boy is such a sassy little bitch who like to practically inhale the person he’s kissing, he wouldn’t utter the word mommy

Alright baby, take a drink because this is going to be LONG.

Because I don't think that soft dom Spencer is that much out of character. Honestly, I find it more accurate than some of the sub! Spencer I saw. Spencer is a worshipper, he's sub in that way but he is dom in the way he handles things. I'm not sure this is clear so let me explain-

Mentally Spencer is a sub, physically he's a dom.

Let's talk about early seasons Spencer first. Because that Spencer was not confident nor experienced enough to dom. He was supposed to be a chronically virgin. BUT, but, but- listen- have you seen the way he kissed that girl in the pool in season 1? Lyla? I think? Anyway, Amber Heard. The way he kisses Amber Heard in that pool SCREAMS dom. I think he always had that dog in him you know? He was just not expressing it. But oh boy-

The more we go through the seasons the more he becomes confident and cocky. Remember that episode in season 3 with the kid shooting the people from his school? Where he disrespected Hotch's orders and just sent everybody to fuck themselves? Or the "This is calm, and it's doctor". See what I'm talking about? He becomes sassy and cocky and he let his little "dom side" out.

But that being said Spencer is not violent or whatever and even "soft dom" is a bit too harsh for him. It's "really really really soft soft dom Spencer". It's dom Spencer in the bedroom who puts his whole heart into the deed, hm?

NONETHELESS, Spencer is a hot mess, he whimpers and cries, he's needy and putty in your hands. Soft dom Spencer is a worshipper. He wouldn't utter the word "mommy" no- But he would ask for your praises. Dude, he has such a praise kink. I think it's more the type to ask if he's making you feel good, if you love him, if you love what he's doing, etc. And boy he learns fast on that field so YES.

And it gets worse after prison. Post-prison Reid is even more "soft dom", it grows. He becomes more clingy, more firm in his touches, his hands are always on you, he's always needing reassurance, always needing you to listen to what he says to you because he is an anxious little bean. He will do nasty things to you while worshipping just to hear you tell him he did good. After prison he's rougher in his touches, he becomes more manhandling. But it's still Spencer so it's not that much violent but.

Soft dom Spencer is just a worship sub. He doesn't degrade or whatever. He just needs to be reassured by your obedience and he puts PASSION in rewarding you.

I think he's heavy on foreplay and stuff, even more than in the deed itself. I mean, once again, THE KISSES PEOPLE THE KISSES. The way he fucking kissed Cat against that door? I swear to God OPJFGHIOEZK. I am SPIRALLING.

Am I going too far again? Yeah probably.

Sorry for the rambling lmao.

[plor-bindery]

Bound: Everybody Hates a Tourist by wolfpants

As previously flailed about, my book parcel for wolf finally arrived! So I can start rambling about the things I bound for this amazing author!

First up: the sublime Everybody Hates a Tourist by @wolfpants

This fic is a delicious post-war exploration of identity, finding your place and your people, and what it can mean to break with your past. Harry’s POV is tight, flawed, and so pitch perfect. Through his eyes, Draco is someone who’s found his footing — or so Harry believes for a while. Featuring Draco doing nude modeling (a trope I too have enjoyed as a writer) and Harry trying to discover who he is beyond what he’s always been told. Amazing fic.

So of course I had to bind it!

More materials and process blathering behind the cut.

Materials: Bookcloth is wooqu from Amazon. I love this colour so much. End papers are from a pack of summer-themed scrapbook papers. The cover decoration is HTV, layered.

Process: Hoo boy, this one was so fun. Probably the first case bind I did where I felt like I was more in control of the end product! I made this back in June; I’ve done a few more since then.

Artwork is all from rawpixel’s public domain sources with the exception of the Brighton Pier lights. I couldn’t find a good public domain line drawing so…I made one? Using Procreate. I am probably too proud of it. But I loved finding little images inspired by each chapter. The sausage dog is my fave.

I also couldn’t help but put the text exchanges in era-appropriate horrid fonts. I know the text bubbles are anachronistic but I wanted to be sure it was clear who was saying what.

I leaned into the vintage seaside Brighton vibes with the drop caps.

Funny story about the colour scheme for the cover — I’d cut a test piece out of bright orange HTV because I thought I would never use that colour so it wasn’t a waste. And then I loved it? (My personal copy was the first one I made with that brighter HTV. I do like wolf’s copy better for this! My copy isn’t pictured here but it’s similar, just with brighter orange and less exciting end papers.)

Some struggles weeding the text bubbles on the back of the cover. Oh well. I figured it’s still legible.

The end bands are machine made but match the HTV perfectly, which pleases me.

Overall, this was such a delight to typeset and bind. I really adored the process of wallowing in wolf’s great words. In fact, I loved it so much I did it three more times with other binds for them. Stay tuned…

[ttjisung]

DEEP OCEAN

l. yangyang + fem. reader

in which liu yangyang has had a crush on y/n l/n since her group aespa debuted, and will stop at nothing to get noticed by her. cw: suggestive jokes and themes, swearing

v. ౨ৎ

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HI! this chapter has a written part between the tweets ^_^ don't forget to read it.

The camera of your phone shifted slightly as you moved it around, finding the ideal angle for your live. Propping it up on your table facing towards your bed, you took a few steps back before sitting on the mattress, waving your hand once the timer went off and the red light turned on.

“Hi guys! It’s Y/n, I’m a bit bored so I was thinking about going live.” You stopped for a second, leaning in to read the comments before giggling at the nonsense your fans were spewing. “Hmm… What do you guys think I should do?” The chat went off until a comment caught your eye. “A room tour? Okay, since you guys asked.” You stood up quickly, reaching for your phone and heading to the door to give an in-detail description of the room. “So these are my posters,” you pointed around at the several cat posters, “They’re mostly orange because of my baby. Over here I have my desk, it’s messy.” The table was covered in random papers with doodles on them, mostly of the furry felines you adored. 

“I have an album shelf, actually, of the groups I like. Do you guys want to see them?” The comments were once again filled with curious questions and approval to continue. “I have NewJeans, LOONA, oooh, this is my favorite. It’s an Odd Eye Circle album.” You briefly stopped to read, “Do I have any boy groups? Umm… I don’t really listen to boy groups but the Aespa girls give me a lot of albums from the groups in our company. I have some EXO ones, and a few NCT ones, even though I don’t listen to them too much.” At the mention of the second group, the chat seemed to blow up further, and you assumed it might’ve been due to your recent ‘scandal’ with the WayV member whose name you forgot. “Do I have WayV? Let me see… Oh noo, I don’t. Sorry guys. Maybe I’ll buy one later and do an unboxing.” 

After your small room tour, you hopped back into your bed, lying down this time and holding the phone above you. “I’m so tired, guys. We had practice real early so I had to wake up even earlier to make sure I could watch my daily cat videos before. I don’t know why but when I don’t, I always have an unlucky day.” You rambled on a bit longer before the tiredness took over, and your words became slightly slurry. “Thank you for joining me, everybody. I’m going to sleep now, good night.” You ended the live before your head hit the pillow, knocking out almost immediately.

a/n: i love rango. peak cinema

[yinwaryuri]

Omg this scene, if it can't be picked apart enough. Kim is not fooling around, and he is trying to make sure that the reason Chay approached him is due to his little celeb crush and not related to everything surrounding Porsche. He has to ask, has to measure the reaction, if Porchay is into anyone (knowing he's just seen the shrine in his room).

I love how amused Chay looks here. He's like, "I didn't think this would come up so soon, but I'll play. I'm good at this game." (the game being emotions)

It may be the translation, but it's hilarious that he asks "who is it?" as opposed to "what are they like?" Way to give yourself away Kim. You don't know a single person in Chay's life outside of Porsche and yourself. Porsche is Chay's brother, that's out of the question. The math isn't hard.

But I love, I LOVE this subtle little expression Chay does here. This quick eyebrow raise:

"It's you, you dumbass." My beloved exasperated gay boy.

That's what he'd like to say, but we gotta be chill, we can't rush the Wattpad formula. Chay has read those and they didn't satisfy him.

I mostly made this post over this tiny moment but it reveals so much about Porchay in a blink. Naïve he is not (not as much as many assume, especially on a first watch). Coming from someone whose younger brother is surprisingly well-adjusted and smart, compared to me (a bisexual mess), I love how Barcode portrayed this aspect of his character. We give Porsche a lot of credit for being a fantastic brother while raising him, but I have to give it to the kid, he deserves a lot of his own credit.

He proceeds to essentially flirt, skirting the border of admission so closely he can't really be mistaken. Just because he can't say it outright doesn't mean he has to be subtle. It's juicy shit and he knows it. He wants to leave juuuust enough plausible deniability in case it weirds Kim out.

I'm pretty sure it was this moment that made Kim decide to take Chay out of the investigation, but damn if he wasn't interested in this kid. He's already set himself up as a tutor anyway, he might as well enjoy it. When was the last time he'd enjoyed someone's company?

I'll start rambling if I keep following that train of thought, so I'll end things here, but. Porchay Kittisawasd, everybody. Tired gay hiding behind a cute shy smile and adorable voice, aware of exactly what he's doing at nearly any given moment.

[mehriigss]

Rottmnt weird drabble/one shot because I have anxiety so Leo has anxiety too.

Based on a headcanon you can find here.

Leo was at the verge of a panic attack. No, he was going into a full anxiety spiral. The best part? He was currently having a family dinner.

Everyone was having fun. Raph was stuffing his face with Mikey's meatballs, April was trying to prevent him from choking, his twin was recording everything with his phone, his father was scolding him for using his phone during a family event, Mikey was still cooking in April's kitchen and Draxum and himself were having a smooth conversation about biology. About literal photosynthesis to be precise. He might hate him but he has to admit Draxum really knew how to get him to talk.

There were oh so many details in every single thing his family was doing right now, but he's brain chose to focus on himself. How selfish.

Draxum was rambling about his favourite photosystem when it hit him. The increased heart rate, the tunnel vision, the distorted hearing, the nausea, the damn choking sensation and that fucking piercing pain in his chest that just won't go away for the rest of the week.

Why did his anxiety have to be such an opportunistis?

He stared at Draxum like he was trying to read his soul out loud. Leo could hear him but he wasn't listening. No words seem to get into his brain but the usual 'you're nothing but your brothers', 'too little too late for redemption', 'you'll never change', 'under that mask is a scared little boy'.

Did Draxum just make him a question? He could tell by Draxum's body language.

"So?" Said Draxum to the turtle that barely registrated anything but the strong static in his ears.

Masking this kind of things was easy for him. He just had to ignore and endure it in equal proportions and play face man. He could do it, he was the face man! The actor! The lier among them! Misleading was his specialty.

He would just put on another layer of paint to his mask and flee forward.

"I'm not sure." Leo said a bit too low but steadily nonetheless.

"Well, if you are not sure, I could suggest a few scientific articles". Draxum replayed, apparently content enough with the poor answer.

Draxum was suddenly silent, already used to Leon's seemingly infinite energy for conversation, waiting for him to say something.

So he said the first thing he could muster, the quickest he could: "I-I'd love to read t-them".

That was clearly not a good plan.

It had begun. The stuttering, because his poor mouth couldn't keep up with his anxious brain. He hated that. He's good hiding his panic in plain sight but his stupid stuttering is something he can't control or cover! He could only go mute and hope he's not asked many questions because of it.

But going mute would be extremely suspicious when he's literally in the middle of a conversation!

"Ok...?"

Ok, Draxum was a bit confused, he could work with that. That is fixable. As long as he can keep a low profile he's good.

But his breathing was getting more and more erratic and being and acuatic turtle didn't actually help keep the need to just breath at bay.

Could he fix this?

'Of course not, you're useless!'

'You're eyes are watering, you big crybaby!'

'Just flee. They're not gonna miss you anyway '

'They're better off without you'

He took a big, deep, audible, shaky breath and surrendered.

"Are you ok, bro?" Mikey, bless his soul, had just entered to room and immediately noticed his struggle, taking over the conversation. "Barry, mind if I steal my brother from you for a sec?"

Mikey did not wait for an official answer, he grabbed Leo by the wrist and forced him out of the room. That, in all honesty, scared the holy shit out of Leonardo. And everybody else.

He felt a little naked now that he wasn't around his whole family, but at least the living room smelled like April. It was a nice smell to focus his mind on.

"Leo... It might not be anything serious- and I hope it isn't! -but..."

"I-I'm hav-ing a p-panic a-attack".

Another shaky breath was all it took for Leo to become a hyperventilating and sobbing mess.

That image just fits too well 😙

[theemporium]

[1.6k] your co-worker eddie munson had a knack for making you blush so it was only fair to return the favour.

.

Nobody was a bigger flirt than Eddie Munson.

Whether it was intentional or not, at least everybody who had ever spoken or interacted with the boy could vouch that he was a flirt. It was like a switch he couldn’t quite turn off, or a dial that was turned all the way to full. He was a flirt no matter who it was or what the situation was. 

And despite the reputation he held around town and what people whispered when he thought they couldn't hear, nobody was immune to Eddie Munson’s flirting because he was just so goddamn good at it. 

You didn’t quite understand how or why, but he was. 

Hell, you had seen a lady pushing her eighties fully fucking blush because Eddie apparently had enough game to even catch a senior citizen if he wanted to. 

Eddie Munson was a big fucking flirt and the reason you knew that so well was because you worked with him. 

You had both started around the same time at the record store. It was a small establishment, based downtown but it was loved and a staple in the community. From second-hand records to new tapes, to old instruments donated in to even some half decent equipment, the store had everything you’d want as a music fanatic for an affordable budget. 

You guessed pretty quickly that was why Eddie loved it. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the boy loved nothing more in his life than music. He treasured his tapes like they were his most prized possession, he treated his guitars better than some people treated their kids and he could ramble on for hours if you let him (and sometimes you did let him because you liked the sound of his voice). 

For you, it was more so that you needed a job and a vacancy happened to pop up. You were nowhere near as passionate or well-versed as Eddie was, with your instrumental skills going as far as being able to play a solid two chords on the piano without it sounding too bad. But you clearly knew enough to be hired, plus you were more in charge of the genres Eddie didn’t really dabble into. 

It took a solid week of working with Eddie Munson for you to realise he was a flirt.

It took a solid five minutes for Eddie to work out that nothing got you blushing like some good ol’ cheesy pick up lines. 

And as the weeks passed and you two continued to work and share shifts together, an unspoken game had sort of settled between the two of you. One that neither of you ever really established, nor did you set down any rules. But it was a game you both went along with for reasons neither of you were quite sure of. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” 

You let out a small hum of acknowledgement, not looking away from the pile of vinyls you were currently sorting through. Whatever asshole that had taken the shift before you had done it all wrong and now you were left cleaning up their mess. 

“Are you a parking ticket?” 

You paused what you were doing, lifting your head to stare at the grinning boy who stood on the other side of the counter from you. “What?” 

Eddie’s grin only seemed to widen with your obliviousness. “Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you, baby.” 

You let out an amused snort, tucking your chin against your chest in hopes that he wouldn’t see the blush growing on your cheeks but he always did. He always fucking did. 

And you never understood why you reacted the way you did. The pickup lines were nothing short of horrendous or bad. They were funny, sure you would give them that and you were almost certain he was reading them from some bad book or magazine, but you never quite understood why they made you blush. 

That never mattered to Eddie, because he loved to see the way your cheeks grew pink and the way you tried to act like they didn’t affect you. He liked pushing your limits, seeing how flustered he could get you in different situations, to see if you’d ever tell him to stop—but you never did. 

“We have a new shipment coming in later this week,” you told the older man on the other side of the phone, leaning against the counter as you went through the same speech you had already given him three times. “I would be happy to note down your name and reserve a copy for you to come and pick up. 

Blah Blah Blah

“Yes, I know this is frustrating, sir, but it is all we can do at the moment.” 

Blah Blah Blah

“Yes, I can give you a few moments to think over your options.”

You had been so caught up in the phone call that you hadn’t even noticed Eddie approaching you until you felt the heat of his body pressed up against your back, an involuntary small noise squeaking past your lips when his hands rested on either side of the counter, essentially caging you in. 

He didn’t say or do anything at first, his mere presence driving your senses into overload as you tried to act like the proximity didn’t bother you, that you were fully capable in acting like he wasn’t there. And you probably could have lied to yourself if it weren’t for the fact you weren’t even totally sure you were still holding the phone or not. 

And then he leaned his head down, the curls of his hair tickling against the skin of your neck and his breath warm against the shell of your ear as he leaned close enough so his lips were almost touching your skin. And then, only after holding that position for what felt like hours, did he finally fucking speak.

“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.” 

And just like that, he was gone. Fucking gone. Leaving you with burning cheeks, a thundering heart in your chest and a very pissed off customer on the other side of the phone. 

It wasn’t until the three month mark when it became clear to you just what the game between you and Eddie was—and then again, you only realised it because it was spelt out to you by a mutual friend, Steve Harrington, who had all but enough of the runaround games you two were playing.

Because yeah, Eddie was a pretty boy. And yeah, he made your heart feel like it was gonna beat out of your chest and your stomach erupt in butterflies. And yeah, sometimes you just wanted to pull him closer and drag your fingers through his girls and down his shirts where you knew he hid a slightly toned stomach from the times you ogled him when his shirt rode up and—

Yeah, it was honestly a little embarrassing that it took Steve saying it to you for you to realise you had a crush on your co-worker.

And even more embarrassed when your friend told you that all those cheesy fucking pickup lines were Eddie’s stupid little way of trying to ask you out, to get your attention and see if you reciprocated any of his feelings. 

So, with some newfound determination and an urge to reimburse the three months of running around in circles over the stupid little game that formed between you both, you had a plan set in place. 

A plan that seemed to work perfectly on the next shift you shared together. 

It was the closing shift, the sign had already been turned over at the door and you both were just cleaning up the shop for the morning shift. The radio was humming with music, filling the space as you shuffled around each other until you had to move some boxes into the storage room in the back. 

You could see the glint in Eddie’s eyes that told you he had a pickup line planned, that there was one on the tip of his tongue and he was excited to use it on you. You couldn’t remember when you started noticing it, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your chest warm at the mere sight. 

Grabbing the last box, you shuffled into the small storage room, struggling with a small huff to get the box on the shelf until a pair of arms wrapped around you, easing the box onto the shelf like it weighed nothing. 

Letting out a small sigh, you turned to face the boy and flushed him a grateful smile. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, sweetheart,” he said with a grin, and you knew he was gonna say it. You knew it was right there, ready to spill past his lips but you bet him to it. 

“Hey Eddie?”

He paused for a second. “Yeah?” 

“Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?” 

Eddie blinked. And then blinked again. And then blinked a third time because he was still not sure he heard you right. 

“What?”

A grin slowly started to spread across your face. “I said, kiss me if I’m wrong but—” 

“Yeah, you’re fucking wrong,” he grumbled before he reached to grab your face in his hands, his lips on yours before you even had the chance to say anything. 

Your hands tightened on the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer until your back was pressed against the shelves of boxes and his body was pressed completely against yours. You let out a soft moan when his tongue swiped over your lip, teasing you, taunting you. 

“Guess those pickup lines worked after all, huh?” he whispered against your lips and you could feel the smile on his lips. 

You snorted, slapping his chest lightly. “Don’t push it, Munson.” 

“Oh baby, it’s only gonna get worse now that I know you can kiss like that,” Eddie said with a grin that told you he was pretty damn serious about his threat. 

“At least take me on a date first.” 

His grin widened. “Deal, sweetheart.”

.

[kekisu]

a very popular headcanon people have (i Think its popular. at least a lot of my twitter mutuals agreed with me a while back) is that joker comes from inaba, and if youve played p4 you know that theres literally nothing to do there

so a big headcanon that i used to be obsessed with is that he would spend a lot of his days skateboarding or biking around listening to music and exploring old dirt roads.. and he ended up getting a special interest in bugs and reptiles because hed come across so many during his little solo adventures. hes also very well versed in fishing its not a fixation or anything but just something hes pretty good at

this is why i tend to draw joker like some sort of skater boy. i think hes always stood out a lot in this small town even before the false assault charge, like he wasnt disliked or bullied but he just didnt really fit in. and this didnt bother him. i think he only realized how boring his life was when he became a phantom thief and got all these new friends in this new big city that understood him despite the circumstances that led him here. like man i really used to live like that and see nothing wrong with it? i didnt yearn for more?

it makes it even more painful when he has to leave and they naturally drift apart. because they all have dreams and ambitions, and the best years of their lives are waiting for them around the corner. but joker is back in this small town where theres nothing to do but hang out in some food court or poke around in the woods. i imagine this newfound loneliness is really hard on him, not to mention the guilt for feeling like hes somehow to blame for. well, whatever happened with goro

to me personally i think goro lived. i think he mustered up the perseverance to bite and claw his way out of shidos palace after seeing that even someone like him has a chance at being loved, he just didnt really remember this in marukis reality because it was all a blur. so both goro and joker were completely clueless as to what his fate would be if they went back to their true reality, which is what was so scary. the uncertainty. he could very well be dead but how could they know for sure? i just dont like the thought of him dying before he could truly live, even though i understand the tragedy of it can be poetic, i just cant stand for him going out like that because i relate a lot to his struggles. and i think it would go against the overall positive message of p5r. sure not everybody gets to have a second chance or a happy ending, but. man. anyways

joker fully believes goro is dead though. he wouldnt be crazy to assume this considering how they parted ways in shidos palace. but it eats away at him and maybe he really does go crazy. maybe his life feels like its stuck in time and while his old friends are out chasing their dreams, hes stuck. broken and shattered over feeling like he couldve done something to save him, knowing jokers savior/martyr complex

im running out of steam and i didnt mean to ramble on about my post-p5r headcanons but, to wrap it up: goro is in rehab somewhere and has a service dog to help with his dissociation and mood swings. and a couple other stuff. he feels like if he walks back into jokers life itll mess something up like joker will just break down or something. so he keeps his distance until they cross paths again. im just very obsessed with the idea of goro getting his life together vs joker wanting so badly to chase that high of phantom thievery again but failing and being actually so depressed

man morgana must be exhausted