#because it's making me feel awful in about a million different ways
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wavesoutbeingtossed · 21 days ago
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why is shopping for parkas so fucking awful omg
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devil-in-hiding · 4 months ago
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On The Run
pt 4
Ghost was silent as you disinfected his hand, watching with interest as you dab the cotton against the wounds. “You really don’t have to do this, I deserved it for being so rough with ya.” He mutters after some time, and you wave him off.
“You did deserve it, but I still don’t want it getting infected and you don’t seem the type to take care of it.” You huff, grabbing the bandage off the bathroom counter.
He watches you, tracking your movements as you gingerly wrap his hand. “There. We can check on that in a day or two.” You announce, patting his cheek and you bite back a smile at the indignant scoff he makes, batting your hand away.
“Oh so you and Price can grab me but I can’t touch?” You roll your eyes, cleaning up the small mess you made as Ghost flexes his hand, looking at the bandage with an unreadable look in his eye.
“Did I wrap it too tight? I’m sorry, let me-“
“It’s fine little bird, thank you.” His voice is soft, his eyes locked on the white wrap. He blinks when you gently slip your palm into his, squeezing gently.
“Why don’t you get some sleep? I can tell you need it.” Your voice is barely a whisper, and you smile when you feel him squeeze your hand ever so slightly in return, but makes no move to stand. His eyes are tired, and there’s a strand of hair sticking out from the eye hole and you pause.
“Would you… would you be more comfortable with that off? I can wash it for you.” You offer, wincing only slightly when his grip tightens.
“Don’t wanna scare ya anymore than I have.” He states bluntly, making you frown. “How is your face going to scare me?” You ask, raising a brow as you cautiously reach for the edge of the ski mask. You anticipate him grabbing your wrist, but not the flicker of panic that flashes in his eyes and you back off, guilt settling low in your stomach.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to, I just thought you’d be more comfortable with it off…” You apologize, lowering your gaze. You go to pull your hand back, clearly having overstepped, but he stops you, pulling your hand back to his lap and he glares at the ground.
“It ain’t pretty.” Is all he offers after a moment, and you tilt your head. “Doesn’t mean you’re gonna scare me Ghost.” You soothe, trying to get him to look at you. A few hours ago you would have laughed seeing this guy acting so small, but now you just want to help them feel… safe. How funny.
As though he’s reading your thoughts, his eyes lift to meet yours, and you can see a million different questions dancing there. “You ever looked into the face of a monster?” He asks, and that takes you back, and he watches the way your eyebrows furrow.
“I don’t-“
“I have done some awful fuckin things little bird. Monsterous things. Things that keep me awake at night, I’m a-“
“That doesn’t make you a monster.” You hiss, and he narrows his eyes, ready to bark back but you cut him off. “Do you view your team as monsters? Do you deem them any less human because of the lives they’ve taken? Is Price a monster?” You snap, and his mouth slams shut, teeth clacking and you see his nostrils flare. Price must be a sensitive nerve.
“He told me. He told me what the four of you have done. He told me all the awful fucking things you four had to witness first hand. The things you did to keep those who needed protecting safe and I want to do that for you!”
His eyes widen behind the mask, and the silence hangs heavy in the air.
You search his eyes for a moment, before slowly reaching back towards the hem of the mask.
“You don’t scare me Ghost. Maybe a few hours ago but not now.”
“How can you be so sure?” He whispers, gripping your wrists but his touch is gentle, hands shaking.
“Do you feel bad about holding that knife to my throat?” You ask, and his eyes flash, and he tugs you closer by your wrists. “More than anything. We… I was just… scared.” His voice is small, eyes shining with unshed tears as you slowly pull the ski mask up and off, and he shrinks back as you look over his features.
He’s waiting for it, waiting for the gasp, the look of disgust.
But you only hum, brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes before gently tracing one of the scars littered along his cheek.
“Now where is that monster you were telling me about, hm?” You tease softly, and his lip trembles as you softly cup his cheek.
“I don’t see any monsters here, just a man who desperately needs some sleep.” He tries to fight back the tears, but his cheeks are hot and sticky and he struggles to suck in a breath.
He freezes when he feels you tug him forward, just for his head to land on your chest, a hand in his hair, grounding.
Comforting.
“You guys are safe here. I promise.” You whisper, the only answer you receive is Ghost fisting the back of your hoodie as he buries his face deeper into your chest to muffle his sobs.
“Absolute fuckin idiot.” He chokes out, and you raise a brow, running a hand through his hair. “Who?”
“Who ever fuckin’ divorces a walkin’ fuckin’ dream.” He spits, yanking at your hoodie like a pouting child, cheeks shining with tears and you can’t help it, you giggle, loud and bright.
“So you’ve said.” You laugh, and he shakes his head. “Should ‘ave his ass kicked.” He mutters, and you have to bite back the sharp reply waiting at the tip of your tongue, instead just tilting his head back so you could meet his gaze.
“You need to rest. Let’s get you to bed.” You order, and he blinks at you, before the hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Inviting me to bed already little bird? Cheeky.” He grins, and it’s a little crooked, and it makes your heart stutter, a shy smile fighting its way to your face.
“The hell the two of you doin’ in here?” Price gripes, and you jump, Ghost tugging you closer instinctively. “Bonding.” He mumbles, resting his cheek against your chest and you glance over your shoulder. Price stares at the two of you, brow raised, but when his eyes settle on the man wrapped around you, you can physically see him soften, an easy smile spreading across his face.
“Gonna stop wearing that damn thing then?” He asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the door frame, and Ghost shrugs. “Thinkin’ about it.” He admits softly, propping his chin on your chest so he can gaze up at you. It’s oddly intimate, and it has your heart racing, giving him one last timid smile before tapping his cheek.
“Bed. Now.”
“Oh she’s a bossy one.” Price chuckles, and you shoo him off. “Both of you, bed!” You laugh, cheeks warm as you step away from Ghost, who you swear whines at the loss of you in his arms.
The three of you shuffle out of the bathroom, and you glance around. “Didn’t have the heart to wake ‘em. Gaz is just about crushing the poor lad but they’re both out like a light.” Price explains, and you nod. “Well, I’ll leave some blanket for them.” You decide, grabbing one of the bigger fur blankets from the closet, and when you stand straight, you’re sandwiched between the two of them, and your breath catches.
“What are you two doing?” You squeak, just to feel two pairs of lips brushing your cheeks.
“Thank you pretty. For everything.” Price mutters, voice low and tired.
“Can’t tell you how much it means to us, really. We’ll repay you anyway we can.” Ghost continues, a rough hand caressing your cheek and you swallow down a whimper, nodding.
“Of course. I’m glad I can help.”
“Don’t deserve it. Don’t deserve you.” Ghost whispers, and your heart slams in your chest. “I-I better get to my room.” You stutter, stepping away from them on shaking legs.
“Goodnight pretty.” Price hums, already tugging Ghost towards the large mattress as you close the door, clutching the blanket to your chest as you dash down the hallway.
Ghost allows himself to lead towards the bed, laughing when Price pushes him back, eyes bright.
“You know I love seein’ you out of that damn mask.” He breathes, crawling over his lover as Ghost gazes up at him, brown eyes tired but brighter than Price has seen them in ages.
“You sure this isn’t about you droolin’ all over our host?” He muses, reaching up to card his fingers through Price’s hair, who catches his wrist, pressing a kiss to his palm.
“Like you weren’t in bloody heaven bein’ buried between those tits.” He chuckles, lowering himself next to Ghost, who curls into his side, resting his head on his shoulder. The mattress sinks under the weight, and it’s not lumpy or stabbing his side with springs as he relaxes, sinking against Price and the fresh blankets surrounding him.
“She’s nice.” He murmurs, eyes fluttering as exhaustion sinks into his bones. Price snorts at that, pressing a kiss to Ghost’s temple as he feels his own fatigue winning its war.
“A god damn angel.” He huffs, dropping his head back as he caresses the skin at Ghost’s hip.
“Get some sleep love.” Price hums, letting his eyes drift shut, listening to the way Ghost’s breathing evens out. It’s been a long time since they’ve been able to sleep like this, wrapped around each other and Price swallows the rising lump in his throat as he settles in, tugging his man as close as he can before finally letting exhaustion take over, drifting into a dreamless sleep, finally.
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omega-e123 · 4 months ago
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Warning: Suggestive (nsfw)
Based by: “I wanna be your slave” by Måneskin
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I love you since this morning, not just for aesthetic. I wanna touch your body, so fucking electric. I know you're scared of me, you say that I'm too eccentric I'm crying all my tears and that's fucking pathetic
Every time you and Shadow get heated up, he backs off. It never gets past a make out session. Once it feels like he’s gone too far, he pulls apart and apologizes. Opting to distract himself from you.
You thought that maybe there was something wrong with you. That’s not right. The theory was easily written off seeing as Shadow has chosen to stay with you all this time. He’s blunt. Most of the time, you don’t need to ask what’s wrong because he’ll straight up tell you. It’s what you love about him. No need to walk on eggshells or play the guessing game.
So why… is it when it comes to this, he’s dodging the situation like he’s in the matrix?
It came up again. You two were on the couch, supposed to be watching a show. One thing led to another and now here you are, straddling his lap. Bare hands graze along your spine. Lips connected in an intimate tango.
He wants to pull you closer. Tighter. Shadow needs to feel more of you. An animalistic growl escapes him. Your touch is a drug he’s horrendously addicted to. You are his lifeline. Separated, he’s nothing. Yet..
Shadows fingers twitch, feeling the need to claw up your back. To mark you so everyone knows you’re his. Fuck, he wants to sink his nails and fangs into you so bad.
Abruptly he stops. Eyes snap open and his hands rest on either of your shoulders, pushing you away. Breathing synchronized, panting, slowing down into a steady rhythm.
Your dumbfounded expression twists into a worried face. It’s your chance to ask what’s wrong. This time you will get an answer. Shadow is not allowed to leave until he spills.
His gaze goes everywhere but you. He can’t bear to look at you. It’s almost as if he’s.. ashamed? No. Under careful observation, the look on his face appears more afraid.
Once confident hands now tremble. Shadow’s head hanging low as his forehead rests on your chest.
Quiet as a mouse, he whispers, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Clarify. Please. Those words sound awful all on their own. There are a million different things that sentence could mean.
'Cause I'm the devil who's searching for redemption. And I'm a lawyer who's searching for redemption. And I'm a killer who's searching for redemption. A motherfucking monster who's searching for redemption
“I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I hurt you. Physically,” Shadow adds, finally making eye contact. A stray tear or two has found its way down his cheek.
“Trust me, I do want you..” Fangs sink into his bottom lip, drawing blood. He sighs, admitting, “I’ve never— done.. with anyone.”
You couldn’t find it in yourself to chuckle. Not when he’s in this state. Cupping his face, you wipe the tears with your thumbs, giving Shadow a reassuring smile. There's no need to rush things. Take it slow, take it easy. You're perfectly content with waiting however long. Silence follows after pecking his forehead.
Chaos, he doesn’t deserve you. Every fiber of his body screams at him, ‘he doesn’t.’ After all he’s done in the past, what he’s been through. Shadow is so lucky to have you. It’s a wonder how you could love a ‘monster’..
That’s not who or what he is. Not to you.
Shadow the hedgehog.
The ultimate life form.
For you he’s… your partner. Your lover.
A friend. A rock.
The one who has been by your side no matter what.
To him, you are a beacon of light. One he should protect. Another reason for him to keep existing. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth.. Like a.. Well a shadow, of course.
I wanna be your sex toy, I wanna be your teacher
I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master. I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters
“Teach me,” Shadow speaks up.
Tilting his head, he leans in towards so that it rests on your shoulder, breath hitting your neck. The urge to bite and suck on your neck is overwhelming.
Shadow tentatively licks your throat before placing a kiss.
“Teach me how to make you feel good.”
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joyflameball · 22 days ago
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The differences between the FNAF movie and the Minecraft movie are so fascinating to me. Here you have two different movies made out of beloved video games. They've both got a million games based off of/created with them, with FNAF having all its "Five Nights At [INSERT FRANCHISE HERE]" games, and Minecraft having the most gorgeous stories and worlds you've ever seen literally built on it. Both movies went through production hell, presumably went through a fuckton of scripts and a whole lot of edits, and then were made after a whole decade.
The FNAF movie is 95% practical effects. The animatronics are 1 to 1 recreations of how they are in the games, moving robotically, being puppetted and worn. I cannot stress enough, they actually made those things. They actually built the sets and built the animatronics, and the movie is just ten thousand times better for it. I can't even put it into words. And I remember, the atmosphere leading up to the movie's release was pure excitement. And when it finally DID release? From what I personally have seen, a lot of people really liked it! I certainly did! This was a project ten years in the making, and you can tell! There's so much love for FNAF in this movie, and you can feel it! I really love the retake on the FNAF lore, the interesting characters, the clear passion behind everything in this movie, and how they've redone one of FNAF's longest-standing characters. Because by god, they did William Afton justice, and he's in about three scenes.
The Minecraft movie, on the other hand, is a complete CGI nightmare. A green screened CGI nightmare that may not be AI generated, but sure fuckin looks that way. It looks like there is zero passion behind this movie, just the cold motivation to make money and appeal to The Youths. They referenced the fucking "the children yearn for the mines" meme without understanding the meme was making fun of someone suggesting we bring back child labor. That by itself shows that they do not care. I cannot find a single frame that has an iota of love for Minecraft, the love that we have grown up on for years. The atmosphere leading up to the Minecraft movie's release is dread. Dread and anger. Between the awful CGI, the stupid fucking Marvel-esque quips, the whitewashing Steve, the lack of love for this goddamn game, everybody saying a teenager could do better is fucking right.
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chrolloluvr · 10 months ago
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Plsplspls do Adam and Mammon with a reader who behaves like a lovesick puppy and is always battling her eyelashes at them and gets all flustered when they flirt plsss 🙏🏻
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Adam and Mammon w/ S/O who is lovestruck with them.
Note: I LOVE RJIS IDEA!!! ALSO WITH MY TWO FAVORITE MEN BY VIVZIE LIKE HELLO??
Female!Reader
Warnings: Touching, not proofread, but other than that nothing rlly!
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Mammon 🕷️:
He would use this to his advantage. If he wants something from you, he had you wrapped around his fingers.
"Hey babe, yeah, so I need something from ya. You'll do this for me right? Aw, your such'a good girl."
He is so aware that his speech and accent give such a feeling to you. He finds you adorable.
But other than the obvious exploitation, he thinks its cute. Obviously, millions of other girls in Hell feel the same way as you, but he chose you.
But other than that, he loathes in the attention and innocent looks you give him.
He will physically flirt with you. He likes to ruffle your hair, play with your cheeks (both ass and face), ,and his favorite, forcing you to look up at him. He knows his affect on you is dangerously crazy, so he uses that to his advantage.
You feel butterflies in your stomach whenever you're around him, and his loud, obnoxious self. You love how dainty and feminine he makes you feel. You are like his princess, and he is your king. (technically that is true lol)
Because he isn't a traditional man per say, but he has a traditional view on women.
He will mentally flirt with you. He gives you a certain look:
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He only does this when he wants to get you weak in the knees for him. Because he knows it works.
He will always tease you. He gets into your head like no other. When you are with him, it feels like no other man matters, it always circles back to him.
He loves the fact that you are obedient and behaved. He loathes in it. He thinks of you like a cute little puppy (that makes him no money whatsoever, but oh well.).
Verbally flirts with you. Well not necessarily always flirting, but thats what it feels like to you. Here are some things he will say to you:
"Hey babe, c'mere and sit on my lap, hurry up, we dont got all day!"
"Well don't you just look sweet, yeah? Are you tryin' to impress me or somethin'?"
"Cutie, go fetch daddy his wallet, yeah? Good girl, you deserve a little treat later, huh? You'd like that, would'nt ya'?"
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Adam 🕊️:
Always brags about it. When talking to Lute or something, he will be like:
"Oh yeah fore sure. but y'know, y/n can just do that for me or whatever. Shes just like that."
He likes that you are obedient, but sometimes it crept him out, at least in the beginning. You were willing to do almost anything for him. He liked the premise, but it make him weary how much control he had over you.
But now? He uses it against you. He will have you do things for him, like paperwork, helping him clean himself, dressing him, kissing him on the cheek, etc.
He cant get enough of how you pamper him.
Praises you. He will call you a good girl, say your his princess, etc. In a way, they way him and Mammon praise you is very similar. The only difference, is that Adam is more reserved when it comes to praise in public, while Mammon is shameless. This is because he cares about his image in Heaven, and cant do too much under watchful eye.
Also gives you a face:
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This man has such a devious grin, especially when he gets his way with you.
He does this face when he wants to rile you up. He knows he will too, since you are very compliant towards him, since he basically treats you like you two are married.
Also verbally flirts.
"Hey wifey- you look different today... did you do your hair or something? Looks hot."
"Hey babe can you do a favor for me and fetch me some water? Your the best babe, god."
"Aww you get embarrassed when your hubby pokes fun at you? Your such a snowflake babe, a cute little snowflake."
Touches you. He likes to tease your shy, pandering nature. So he likes to blow on your ear, come up behind you and pick you up, or just the occasional slap on the ass.
He loves how shy and embarrassed you become, so he will definitely enjoy continuing his antics.
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jayschaconne · 2 months ago
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LOVESICK | Kim Sunoo
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summary: While on summer vacation you find yourself falling for Sunoo in just a matter of seconds.
warnings: (minors dni), heavy smut, unprotected sex, size kink (?) (idk about y’all but I LOVE Sunoo’s shoulders), swearing (excessive use of the word ‘cunt’), both reader and Sunoo are down bad (ALSO VERY FREAKY) (not proofread)
genre: fluff, smut, angst
a/n: I’ve finally written about all of enha on here omg. also this isn’t what I wanted it to be so try and enjoy it ig. sorry for making it long.
There were green leaves scattered across the street. The sun hitting your eyes, blocking your vision.
You carried a tote bag with books you’d just checked out from the library nearby. Coming to visit your parents’ home country wasn’t your most favourite thing to do, but getting to take in the fresh summer breeze and stroll across streets you’d grown accustomed to had soothed you in its own ways.
It was pretty out. You loved the fresh green grass and the trees that sheltered you from the harsh sunlight. The serene, ocean-blue skies that were peppered with clouds shaped like hearts and different animals, making you laugh to yourself.
All the while you’d been preoccupied, you’d forgot to take notice of things around you. This caused you to so suddenly bump into someone and land flat on the ground. You were sure you’d hurt your elbow.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” a soft, calming voice had called from above you. “Here, let me help you.”
The man crouched down to pick up the fallen contents out of your bag. You had no time to tend to the wound that formed on your skin. Because in a split second, all your attention was on the boy in front of you.
He seemed to be out of this world.
Your eyes locked on his, staring deeply. You couldn’t seem to look anywhere other than his face. His plump lips, the curve of his brows. His adorable nose. The way his bangs were reaching his eyes. The plain beige shirt he was adorned in paired with blue denim that sat proudly on his shoulders.
He seemed to be at a loss of words for the first few seconds. You both took each other in, a sigh coming from him, your eyes refusing to even blink, fearing he’d disappear if you had.
A smile had reached his lips and his honey-brown eyes. A shy chuckle escaped. “Forgive me for being this direct but,” he sighed, “you’re incredibly stunning.”
Sunoo was in total awe at how you were speechless when face-to-face with him. Your lips slightly parted, almost as if you hadn’t expected to see him, though it was normal given that he was a stranger.
What could it have been that made those beautiful eyes seem to have a million questions behind them at the sight of him?
And how on earth could someone be this gorgeous? He felt his heart smile when he first saw you; it started beating at a much slower, more steady pace. Making him feel like he’d been enveloped into a world where only the pretty girl carrying books, who he just bumped into existed. Your curls that flailed with the wind, the coconut scent in your hair, those long lashes that fluttered as you lifted your eyes to peer up at him. Doll-like, they gleamed in the sunlight.
You finally broke away from your train of thought.
“I’m..sorry.” You said, unsure of what to feel towards this man or how he’d just called you beautiful.
“I mean thank you.” You added while a nervous laugh had escaped your lips. You could feel the heat rising up to your cheeks. “You’re gorgeous,” you said before being able to stop yourself.
Just then, you heard him laugh. It was the most beautiful sound of laughter you’d ever gotten to hear.
“Let me help you,” he said again, this time helping you back up on your feet. Your hands were in his, feeling the soft skin of his palms and the warmth radiating from them.
“Thank you.” You let out almost in a huff. You couldn’t understand this feeling. It was in the pit of your stomach, but also latched onto your heart. The sight of this strange, beautiful boy you’d just met made it slightly harder to breathe. It made your knees weak.
You both were very, very still for a moment. His hands had kept their hold on you, eyes locking deeper into yours. A sigh left him, and he let both your arms fall.
“Is it wrong to want to know your name?”
“Please tell me your name.”
You both had spoken at the same time. This caused you two to share a moment together, laughing at the coincidence.
“You first,” he softly said. His gaze on you was so warm and welcoming. It made you melt.
“Y/n,” you said, not being able to help how you brushed your hair behind your ear at how shy he made you feel.
“That’s pretty. But it doesn’t surprise me. Pretty things have pretty names.” Sunoo confessed.
He felt like an idiot that was just going and on and on about your looks. He so badly wanted to spend the rest of his day with you.
“You are?”
“Sunoo,” his eye smile was back.
Sunoo. You felt your heart flutter at his name being just as gorgeous.
The evening had rolled around quick, but ironically slow at the same time.
You two walked into the park nearby, feeling time slowly slip away, but still being enough to let you bask in each other’s presence.
You couldn’t believe how radiant a human being could be, to not have one flaw in them. Sunoo was absolutely perfect. He was the real definition of ‘too good to be true’.
He was open, easily understood. It made you wonder if it was just how direct he was that made him want to compliment you.
But his eyes spoke for themselves. You’d stop walking at certain points, which gave him more of a reason to keep his eyes on you.
His gaze was still, subtle, but there was so much more behind those eyes than even he could comprehend.
At a certain point, Sunoo had started to carry himself in a way where he wasn’t hiding his affection for you. Stories he heard, he wanted to hear more of. “Tell me more,” he’d nod. That smile tugging at the corner of his lips made your attachment grow.
Sunoo couldn’t grasp at where it rooted from, but there was this feeling of familiarity that was slowly growing between you two. Just within a few glances and words exchanged, Sunoo felt like he’d known you a lifetime.
“I’m staying here with my aunt for the time-being. I’ll be going back in a couple months,” he explained while you two sat on a bench far near the trees in the park.
And if it weren’t for the bitter taste forming in your mouth at the thought of keeping something from him, you wouldn’t have said it.
“I’ll be leaving in two weeks.”
A gap had suddenly opened up in that one corner of his heart that felt like it had been reserved just for you. It had to have been you it belonged to, he was certain. But it was slowly emptying itself now. Your words left a scar that he wasn’t sure could now be ceased.
At his silence, you grew nervous. “Sun-
Loose strands of hair had been in your eyes then, which he brushed away with a light touch of his fingers. “Let me get those for you,” he hushed in a whisper. You felt your eyes shut momentarily, your heart racing.
He didn’t acknowledge what you’d just told him.
He retracted his hand, looking at you with such tenderness. Such adoration.
“Sunoo.”
“Yes.”
There was so much you wanted to say but the words wouldn’t leave your mouth.
“Nothing.”
And there it was. He laughed again.
“Is it okay if I…” you spoke, unsure.
“Hm,” he patiently waited for you to say whatever it was you wanted to.
Your lips were parted, but again, no words came out. You could explain it so much better if you just touched him.
Your hands reached up to his hair, picking at the loose ends. You needed to feel him. Touch him. It was the only thing you knew with him.
You weren’t big on communicating your feelings. It wasn’t anything you were used to. And while Sunoo had given you more than reason to be open with him, he was so overwhelming. Speaking was the last thing your feelings would allow you to do.
Touching him felt much more familiar. His skin underneath your palms allowed you to say things your lips couldn’t.
He watched, following only your eyes as you placed your hand around his neck, leaving traces of fingertips he saw as you engraving your mark on him.
He sat incredibly still, but relaxed underneath you. Your hand was now cupping his face. He moved suddenly, lips brushing your fingers.
“Sunoo…”
“Don’t drive me crazy like that,” he whispered, almost pleading.
The sleeve of your cardigan had rolled up, and Sunoo noticed the scrape on your elbow, brows immediately knitting together in worry. He saw how the open wound started to bleed.
“Oh no,” he wept. “That must hurt.” He took your arm into his hands, eyes searching yours to ask permission if this was okay.
You didn’t say anything. Didn’t speak or budge. You just let him touch you, so used to it already. His fingertips grazed your skin, making the cut sting.
You hissed, causing him to retract his hand instantly.
“I’m so sorry,” he said worriedly.
“No, it’s not you. It just stings a little that’s all.”
“My aunt’s house is just a few blocks down. We should get you there quick before you lose too much blood.”
“I wouldn’t wanna cause any trouble, Sunoo.” You said, incapable of keeping his name out your mouth. Sunoo. It reminded you of sunshine. The way he’d suddenly walked into your life, raining his sun showers upon you with his bright and bubbly self. His name suit him perfectly.
“You expect me to listen after you say my name like that?” He was getting shy, but also very much see through in such little time. It was because you said it. You’d looked at him, and said his name in a way where it sounded like you’d said it a million times before.
“It’s just a small cut.”
It isn’t to me, he wanted to say.
“Do you have to go home right away?” He asked.
“No,” you lied.
“Then you’re coming with me.”
Sunoo managed to rummage through his pockets, finding a handkerchief. He tried his best to wrap it around somehow. But you ended up having to put pressure on it.
Despite all your protests against going to his aunt’s, deep down you were aching to be alone with him. It felt as if any moment you looked elsewhere, he’d slip away. And while your mind was boggled at the thought of that, your heart had understood. Without a second thought, you went with him. Not caring where he’d take you as long as he was still there.
The small blood stain on your cardigan made him take it from you, offering his own jacket. He carried your bag as well, looking over every two seconds to make sure you weren’t in too much pain.
Once you’d reached there, he paced around anxiously, looking through the drawers to try to find a first-aid kit.
You sat in his room, taking in the atmosphere of it. It was peaceful, clean, just the way you’d expected it to be.
He was so stressed over this stupid wound. It felt weird seeing this boy who had been a stranger just a few hours ago, rummaging through his drawers to find a bandaid for you.
You felt yourself unable to keep still anymore. You walked over to him, taking ahold of his arms.
Sunoo’s movements came to a halt, and he seemed more at ease.
“Why does this matter to you so much?”
He stood there, unable to speak. He blinked at you a few times, looking like he had an answer that just wasn’t reaching his lips.
“I…don’t know how to say it.”
“What could you possibly want to hide from me? You’re so obvious, Sunoo.”
His eyes had widened slightly, and he avoided looking at you in the face. “I’m not the only obvious one.”
“Sunoo, the bleeding has stopped.” You held up the handkerchief, revealing the dried stains of blood.
He looked down at your arm, examining it.
“Let me at least put a smaller bandaid on it.”
“Sunoo.” You started.
“Don’t keep saying my name like that.”
“Why?”
He pondered for a moment, wondering if it was the right thing to say.
“It makes me wanna kiss you.” He blurted out. There was defeat in his voice, like he’d admitted something he hadn’t meant to.
You felt relieved at that, feeling a little less crazy for how you were so deeply attracted to him already. “At least you admitted it.”
“You’d let me kiss you?”
“You’re too oblivious for your own good. I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t want to spend every remaining second of my day with you.”
Sunoo let you go on, feeling slightly a bit more relaxed that he wasn’t crazy for having these feelings. That you were possibly implying that you liked him too.
“Would you let me kiss you?” He repeated his question.
“Yes,” you breathed out. “I’d want you to.”
He was silent. His gaze remained intact. He so badly wanted to kiss you. Brush your hair away from your eyes again.
“I’ve known how you made me feel from the moment you first spoke to me. And just over a small wound you’ve been so worked up. But I get it. If I’d seen you hurt I’d go just as crazy.”
You moved closer to him, hands reaching up to touch the face you’d touched several minutes before.
Sunoo’s eyes closed shut, and he eased into the way your fingers grazed his skin. The warmth of your fingertips had kissed his skin so gently, he felt like his knees might’ve given up.
He opened his eyes to look over at you again, this time his eyes burned, speaking words you hadn’t seen in them before.
“Are you in love?” He sounded uncertain. There was something so strong that was inviting him to you, like some magnetic pull. He wasn’t sure what was next.
“That’s such a stupid question. Of course, I’m in love. It’s you, Sunoo.”
Sunoo had without blinking, pulled you closer, a delicate hand on your jaw, his lips slowly closing the gap between you two.
He’d been chasing this relief from the very first moment his eyes fell upon you. Your curls, your lips, those eyes, all crossing his mind as his lips engulfed yours in a deep, slow kiss.
You felt him guide you so your back hit his bed, feeling his smile grow against your lips, both your teeth almost clashing. “I’m so in love with you,” he whispered, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.
This felt amazing. The way you’d felt so close to him, your heart having been so at home with his touch gliding over your skin, his kisses so impatient.
You felt unable to keep your hands off him. They traced up his arms, reaching his shoulders, making you almost gasp at how big they felt. You couldn’t help but drool at the sight.
“You like my shoulders baby?” He laughed, eyes sparkling as he towered over you.
Baby, the word rolled off his tongue like it was so used to being said to you.
You felt yourself shudder beneath him, hands remaining still, feeling him. “They’re just so…big.”
You loved the feeling of being so small compared to him. The need to feel him touch you grew more intense.
Sunoo smirked down at you. “You like touching them?”
You nodded, pulling him closer. He hovered above you, just inches away.
“Tell me how much.”
“I wanna sit…on them” you said shyly looking away, embarrassed to have admitted such a thing.
“Don’t be shy,” he laughed, taking your face into his hands. “I want you to,” he reassured you.
“Please, I need you.”
Sunoo reacted by pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his cream-coloured skin. He pulled you into his lap, kissing you again.
But this time, he nipped at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp in his mouth. His tongue collided with yours, slurping and sucking, savouring as much as he could of you.
You were incredibly intolerant of how slow this was going. You managed to slide off your tank top by its straps, all the while making out, letting Sunoo get a good look at your bare chest.
He whimpered at the sight. “Can I suck?” He whispered, so unsure of what he’d do wrong.
You nodded eagerly, feeling the warmth of his mouth around your sensitive nub in seconds.
Sunoo sucked on your tits like he’d been hungry for your skin, yearning to get a taste of it for a long while.
Both your heads had turned at the sound of the front door closing. You almost panicked until Sunoo grabbed his duvet cover and wrapped it around you.
He got up to lock his door.
“Sunoo, dear? Are you home?” A voice called from outside.
He looked back at you, seeing how you’d shrank inside the duvet cover, looking as beautiful as ever. He was still processing how you ended up sprawled out on his bed, waiting to get fucked by him.
He walked back to you, crawling over and placing his index finger on your lips. “Shh,” he hushed with a smile playing on his lips.
“Open for me,” he whispered as his fingers parted your lips. You obliged and felt two fingers slide inside your mouth.
“To keep you from being too loud,” he cooed at you.
He put his face in between your breasts, you taking ahold of his head, letting him lick up invisible patterns with his tongue.
“Sunoo,” you moaned around his fingers. “Please.”
“Please what, baby?”
“Let me ride you.”
He grasped at the long skirt you wore, watching it slide off your legs smoothly.
You tugged at Sunoo’s pants, unbuckling his belt yourself and sliding them down to his knees.
You pushed him flat on the bed, and crawled on top, letting his boner free from his briefs.
Sunoo grabbed a pillow to stifle the loud, deep moan that escaped his lips, causing you to get even more wet at the thought of getting to fuck him.
Your mouth watered at the sight of his precum gathering at the tip.
You straddled him, watching his eyes burn into you, his mouth hung agape. Your eyes stayed on his as you made slow, teasing strokes on him.
“Ahh, fuck,” a groan came from deep within his throat, loving the feeling of your hands on his dick.
His head rolled back into the sheets, eyes shut tight, such sweet moans being released from him.
His hands came in contact with your ass, squeezing and pulling on the soft skin; they felt huge as they worked on you. You were in love with how large every part of him was.
His dick was too tempting, too perfectly girthy for you to not put your mouth on it.
You lowered yourself down, spitting on his tip and stroking him again. You watched as Sunoo’s hand clasped on his mouth, with his back arching, stifling his moans that were getting too loud for you two not to get caught.
“Stop,” he breathed out. “Just fuck me already.”
You didn’t waste any more time, sitting on him and feeling him stretch you out in the most toe-curling ways.
He now rested on his elbows, lips connecting in a steamy kiss as your moans released into each other’s mouths at the contact.
You couldn’t help the way you impatiently bucked your hips on him, feeling him writhe underneath you.
“Fuck, baby. I could never imagine you feeling this good,” he exclaimed against your mouth. His hands kept your waist in place, guiding you through the rhythm he created.
Your skin stung with the way he smacked your ass with each thrust into your cunt. Sunoo felt heavenly buried deep inside you.
You motioned for him to lie down again, this time your heat way closer to his mouth, as you eased yourself onto his shoulder. You held the headboard for support, grinding on him gently.
You could feel how toned-up he was. Those hard muscles that you felt against your clit just making your cunt even more needy for him.
Sunoo’s lips attached to the skin of your thighs, one of his hands reaching up to your tits, wanting to feel whatever he could of you.
He loved the way you felt on him. The wet, squelching sounds your cunt made as you rode his shoulder made him want to taste you on his tongue.
Sunoo got ahold of your thighs, lifting up one of your legs to the side of his face, which gave him more access. He turned his head and lapped his tongue furiously against your clit.
You felt yourself start to lose balance as you shook with overstimulation.
“Sun,” you moaned into the back of your own hand. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Not yet,” he said. But it was more of a plead than a demand.
He flipped you over, burying your face in his pillows. Your ass was facing him, and you felt him enter your needy, dripping walls.
You practically screamed into the pillows at the feeling. Sunoo started to wildly buck his hips into you, loving the way you felt wrapped around him.
“Sunoo, please,” you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. You needed him to hear you scream for him.
“That’s right, love. You take me so well,” he panted with each hard thrust.
You felt the bed shake from its place as Sunoo fucked you senseless into the mattress.
You were sweaty, screaming until your lungs felt like giving up. You were filled to the brim with his dick, not being able to contain your high any longer.
“Sun-sunoo,” you croaked, only being able to focus on the way he sounded, every noise that filled the room as he was fucking you.
You were flipped over, facing him now. Sunoo was quick to enter you again, chasing this exhilarating feeling that you both were so close to experiencing together.
Your legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his torso. Tears escaped your eyes at how overwhelming experiencing this was with him. He knew exactly how to fuck you until you couldn’t form a coherent thought.
Sunoo’s lips had found yours, groans being released into your mouth again, as you still marvelled at how he was real.
You dug your nails into his back, not knowing anything but how you were so close to coming undone.
“Oh baby, I’m gonna cum,” he bit down on his hand, feeling his body go limp as both of you climaxed.
Sunoo’s lips had locked with yours in a deep kiss.
“Shit, fuck,” you cried out. “I love you,”
“I love you,” Sunoo wept as he rode out your high, nuzzling his face in your neck.
He released his load onto your stomach. He tried catching his breath, lying his head down on your chest.
Your hands came up to touch the back of his neck, his hair that was drenched in sweat. You played with his blond locks.
“Sunoo?”
“Yes, love,” he spoke tiredly.
“Nothing,” you said, laughing.
This made him laugh again. “I love you,” he whispered to you, curling further into your embrace.
The next few days went by fast. Sunoo had introduced you to his aunt, you’d introduced him to your parents, but that was mainly because you two had very loud, frequent sex.
It was his aunt who’d been the unfortunate one to have come home one night to the sound of bed creaking and moans and screams coming from Sunoo’s room.
You both didn’t care about including outsiders in your relationship. You had your own place, which was a 30-minute drive away, but some nights Sunoo was reluctant to leave his aunt since he was helping her run her business.
Even the customers were alarmed at a certain point when Sunoo had attended the door with a button down only thrown around his shoulders, post-make out hair and hickeys on his neck.
“How are you?” He breathed heavily.
A young couple who seemed to be around you guys’ age was at the door.
“Dude, we’re sorry…were you?” The guy asked.
“Yes, actually,” he smiled. “I’d appreciate it if you came back tomorrow.”
“But it’s only 8:30 pm?” The woman said.
“I know. Buh-bye now.”
Sunoo would risk anything to spend time with you. Whether that was helping you do your hair and makeup, taking you on library dates, taking you shopping. You name it.
You two had become inseparable, that it almost made you feel selfish at times. But time was ticking by. All you could do was spend all of it with one another before your flight would board in a week.
You sat playing a card game with Sunoo at the edge of your bed. You were losing horribly.
“Oh no, looks like you made a mistake there, love,” he teased.
You tried your best to smile, not being able to keep this sorrow inside any longer.
“Sun. I’m leaving in 5 days.”
The feeling in the pit of your stomach grew. You had never felt this helpless before. Sunoo, the boy who you’d fallen in love with so quickly, was about to be miles away from you in just a matter of days.
“Come here,” he motioned you over towards his lap.
His hands caught in your loose strands of hair. “You know, knowing how deeply I feel for you, I’m not afraid of the distance that’ll be put between us.”
“You’re not?” You pulled back to look at him.
“Nope, not one bit” he shook his head. “I fell in love with you the moment those eyes looked up at me,” his thumb brushed against your bottom lip.
“How can you not be scared? I’ll be so far away from you.”
“Because I know that this is very special. What we have is nothing ordinary. I fell for you first, everything else came after.”
“But I can’t leave you…”
“I know. I don’t want you to go either.”
You sat in his arms, trying to figure out how you’d deal with having to leave him behind.
The only thing that helped you two face the truth was spending as much time as you could with one another, most of which was spent with you spending the night at his.
You’d hoped it would put your feelings aside — that you’d start seeing it as nothing but a summer hookup — but it didn’t. You loved each other, and that was that. And connecting the way you did each time he made love to you, your feelings only deepened for one another.
He kissed your nose, your neck, your lips. “I love you,” he said. “You know that?”
“I love you too,” you held his jaw in a way you’d gotten used to, kissing his beautiful lips.
The day had come. You were extremely nauseous on the way to the airport. This was too much to take.
Your parents were originally supposed to drive you there, but you ended up going in separate cars; you were with Sunoo.
He made sure he booked a ride so he’d get to sit in the backseat with you, holding your hand, trying to soothe your nerves.
It was silent in the car. You could hear only the motor of the vehicle as it passed road after road, making you feel even more sick.
Every time his eyes looked over at you, a sudden ache formed in your heart. This couldn’t be happening. You weren’t actually leaving him, were you? It had to be a dream.
“Look at me,” he whispered. His eyes were laced with worry. His fingers played with yours, trying to distract you.
“You know those curtains in my room? The ones you hate?”
You nodded, trying to remember every single feature of his while your eyes trailed over his face.
“My aunt was planning to get new ones. I wanted to know which colour you liked.”
Sunoo seemed so oblivious to the pain you felt. But in reality, he just couldn’t let you go in a bad mood. He wanted to make your last few moments together were a good memory. Even though this day was incredibly burdening. He could feel the weight in his chest.
“Beige.” You remembered the colour of his shirt the day you’d met him.
“Beige.” He smiled.
You curled up into him, loving the feeling of his arms around you. The way he cradled you so gently, it made you want to keep him there forever.
“Thank you,” you said while tears formed in your eyes.
“For what?” He nuzzled his face against your cheek, giggling.
You would miss this.
“For being so full of love.”
Sunoo pulled away slightly, wiping the tears that were on your cheeks.
“I don’t think I was like this before,” his eyes lowered, a shy smile creeping on his lips. “So I should thank you.”
His fingers traced every detail on your face, a smile still formed on his lips as his eyes examined you.
“I don’t want to see you cry. There’s so much you have to do when you get back. You’ll see your friends again, start your new year in uni. It’s everything you’ve missed these past few months.”
What would you do when you missed him?
“Okay,” you agreed, not wanting to make it as hard for him. He still wiped your tears away, and now kissed your fingertips.
You’d reached the airport in just a few minutes. You were so close to throwing up. Your knees had started to give up on you, yet somehow you still got out the car, walking hand in hand with the one you loved. He carried your bag again, making you remember that day you’d first met.
“You’re not feeling so well, love, let me carry it.” He kissed the side of your face.
Even despite feeling how his hand was in yours, you looked over your shoulder anxiously each second, making sure he was still there.
“There are still a few minutes. I’m not leaving yet.” His hands rested on your waist, one of them coming up to brush your hair out of your eyes.
Your eyes shut once more, trying to relish as much as you could of his touch. You felt a tear slip out your eyes, and you looked away.
Sunoo was trying to avoid his own emotions from taking over, which is why he tried to get you to smile.
His hand came up to your jaw, making you look back at him. “Hey,” he whispered.
“Hi,” you smiled despite the tears that escaped your eyes.
Sunoo felt himself sink deeper in his own sorrow. There was so much he wasn’t saying to prevent from making this harder for you.
“You look so pretty when you smile. That’s all I ever want you to do. How will I be able to wipe your tears when I’m this far away?”
This caused you to break down in his arms. Light sobs left you as he held you close to him.
“I’m so sorry, love,” he felt his heart sink at the sight of you sobbing. “I���m so, so sorry.”
“Sunoo, I don’t wanna go,” you wept. “It hurts so much.”
“I know. I wish I could stop it.”
Your body went limp, you couldn’t form your words. This was suffocating you. You envied the people who had come here to take their loved ones home. It was so unfair.
Your parents had arrived shortly after. Sunoo kept you close, letting them know with a shake of his head that you still needed time. They gave him a nod, walking over to one of the benches.
He held onto you, not knowing how to fix any of this while you broke apart in his arms. All he could do was let you express your grief how you needed to, because it was something he — so badly — wanted to do as well. But Sunoo kept himself from doing so, preventing you from breaking even further.
After your eyes had felt too sore from crying, you heard him speaking to you.
“Baby, hey,” he spoke softly. You pulled away from his hold. “Your parents are here.” He pointed towards them.
As his hold had freed you from him, everything else that went on afterwards felt like a dream that seemed to never end.
You kissed his lips, repeatedly, trying to remember what he tasted like. Peck after slow peck, you could feel Sunoo start to quiver under your touch.
He was crying, and now you were saying sweet things to him to help him calm down.
“Your smile is so pretty,” you repeated his words. “It’s all I ever want you to do.” Your hands were cupping his face. Sobs ripped through him at that.
“I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you more, Sunoo.”
You gave him one last kiss, it was much longer this time, not enough to let go but still bidding goodbyes for the two of you.
Sunoo watched you walk inside, feeling like he’d been ripped into shreds. He was dreading going back home, knowing how memories of you already roamed around in his room.
“I love you,” he mouthed.
“I love you, Sunoo.” Were the last words you said while looking at him, before the two of you had disappeared in different crowds, completely out of sight.
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sergeant-angels-trashcan · 3 months ago
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Bestie I NEED to hear your thoughts about Harley and Bruce possibly being secret twins 👀👀👀👀👀
Been thinking about this for WEEKS i fear!!!! This came right as 'rona dragged me down I'm sorry this took so long!!!
I don't know or care about how secret twins happens, what happens in the bedroom of Thomas and Martha and Alfred Pennywayne is NONE of my business unless they invite me which is fine btw
since they're fraternal twins they COULD TECHNICALLY have different dads. am I saying Alfred is Harley's bio dad perhaps and the clown is going to have empty space where his head used to be but I digress. This explains SO MUCH I feel but also we should in no way think that the parents know this. They don't know nor care because THAT IS THEIR BABIESSS. it would probably be Bruce and Harley finding out when they're forty or something because someone needs a kidney. They purposefully forget the information. They don't need it.
And as insufferable as Thomas is with Baby Brucie can you IMAGINE how AWFUL he would be as a Girl Dad tm. I am thinking of your "if you detain one you detain both I KNOW MY RIGHTS" post but with two children!!. Also Thomas would be THEEE cattiest mfer amongst the other dance moms. My god Alfred and Martha would never know peace. Also a million zillion pictures of each parent konked out while holding 2 sleeping toddlers, THINK on it I beseech thee it's so cute. (But then, Thomas accidentally saving/kidnapping Harley from the park and Bruce and Harley INSISTING they are identical twins. Everyone is like no you really aren't until Thomas gives them the most murderous look known to man over their tiny heads. VERY funny when Jason and Cass also do this)
Maybe Harley was very very sickly as a baby and they kept her a secret to keep the press away. I can see family not talking about Martha's pregnancy AT ALL particularly if it was high risk in any way like she would be visibly pregnant due any day and someone would ask her if she was excited about the baby and she would deadass say 'what baby'.
The ideal scenario the Pennywaynes have for their offspring is that they keep the bambini hidden. as far as the press knows one day 18 year olds pop up outside the Wayne Manor as fully formed scions to the empire. You've never heard of them before? GOOD. That was the point.
Also the DRAMA, the ANGST, I think this makes sense with Bruce's weird dynamic with the Joker (though this could work with just siblings ig)?
Bruce doesn't want to kill the person his twin loves because it would hurt his twin, who HE loves. And killing the Joker could result in Harley hating him! Bruce trying so hard to be supportive for Harley and just be there for her so when she finally decides to leave the Joker she knows Bruce has her back.
Bruce knowing all the stuff about what support systems do that helps and hurts victims of intimate partner violence so he's always playing this balancing act of what he feels like he can say/do about him before it affects Harley. And it being his self given job to stop the Joker from doing HIS self given job. If he helps Gotham he hurts Harley. If he tries to help Harley, he hurts Gotham (does very interesting things to the brainworms when thinking about Jason's murder! about why Bruce feels like he can't or shouldn't go after the Joker--because he's proven he will kill a child and use their mother to get them, that is not a man above using his partner to hurt his nemesis!!! and that would be a whole thing for Bruce, he doesn't act because he's genuinely terrified, worried that if he fails he'll lose harley too
idk if the Joker would know about Harley and Bruce being related or Bruce being Batman but I could see this being the turning point for how Harley views the Joker. Like, she'd been going over to the Manor to help Jason talk through his feelings every month for years. Would it have mattered if the Joker knew he was her nephew?)
Also makes the weird sexual tension Bats has with the Joker even weirder if he IS aware of their relationship. He'd be so gross about it. Yes the Joker wants the Wayne twins. He flirts with them in front of the other to piss them off, mostly Harley. Would highkey lie and say Bruce was flirting with him to drive a wedge between Bruce and Harley oh my god I went such a not fun direction with this
Identical twins could be very funny if they were separated at birth no i do not know why they would be separated just roll with me. the one that does not transition is like "why do you have a picture of me as a kid this is creepy what do you mean that's you' . Everyone at college is like ha ha you two look like you could be related! You do the same icky face when you eat pineapple. They dOn'T sEe iT
Maybe she was kidnapped (by like a very young deathstroke or something idk) and SOMEhow Oswald Cobblepot winds up with this feral toddler in his possession. A goon made a terrible life choice perhaps? And Ozzie is just an up and coming crime lord, still settling into the family business, how tf is he supposed to know the Waynes are missing THIS child? if he knew don't you think he'd be extorting people??? I think they could have some very fun and adorable Stacker Pentecost and Mako Mori vibes this man has NO idea how to raise a child but by god!! He will do it right!!! Literally nobody knows about her, he would have people killed for suspecting her existence.
But also take your daughter to work day??!? Harley yelling at incompetent goons in a sweet baby voice. Ozzie is SO PROUD of her, he wouldn't have minded her going into the family business but she's going to be a doctor!! He is just a proud papa!!! Fearsome crime lord The Penguin with sparkle pink nail polish and bows stuck to his head having a tea party with Lil Harley.
I think this is ALSO interesting with the Joker!! I would love if the only reason his dumb ass wasn't taken out the moment he stepped foot in Gotham was because he's Harley's Boyfriend. The only thing stopping the rogues from turning on him is that Harley likes him!! Is he the Gotham version of a crypto-finance bro?
What if it's an older Harley who is kidnapped? Like post Thomas and Martha shooting. It's part of what cements Bruce's notoriety as the Last Wayne. (Everyone asks if he can sense her through their Twin Bond and he gets sooooo mad that's not a real thing!!!! He feels so guilty because if that was a real thing, shouldn't he be able to find her? Shouldn't he know????)
Cut to Batman and Joker in a showdown and there is Harley and Bats CAN'T STOP STARING?!??? why does she seem so familiar? The Joker notices of course and starts saying some very crass things but the IMPORTANT part is that at some point Harley mentions not minding beating up on Batman because she once had a baby brother who was terrified of bats, so she's doing this for him!!! And Bruce is like wait I once had an older sister and I'M afraid of bats?!?!
Harley looks at him REALLY HARD and all of the sudden she's screaming "BABY B????" and roundhouse kicking the Joker into some metal oil drums. NOBODY beats up her baby brother!!!!
The rogues go fucking insane
(the age thing. Harley is technically a day older than Bruce. She was born at 11:50 PM and he was born at 12:05 AM. They make older sibling/younger sibling jokes all the time and think they are very funny. The Batkids would disagree)
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infamous-if · 2 years ago
Text
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As won by the poll, the MC x Seven first kiss drabble is first! A few things: 1) this drabble is fucking long sorry and 2) though this is what I imagine their first kiss to be like, I don't want to go as far as saying it's completely canon, mostly because I'm sure it can go many different ways with different types of MC's. And 3rd) I tried really hard to make this fluffy and not so serious and I'm sure you can see the shift where I thought 'oh crap' but...I am not a fluff writer and I will be working on that lmao 4th) as always, I do not edit my drabbles and I really only do one draft of them so excuse the wordy/awkward sentences or typos or any of that sort and finally, sorry about that last line lmfao
“Have any of you seen Seven?”
That’s the question you’ve been asking all night since your band left The Golden Spoon, a bar in the crux of the city. It had one of your best audiences in recent memory; there were no lulls in engagement, no dull moments that made you question yourself. People loved the songs and danced their hearts out, some even asked for pictures once the set was over. Fame, however small, feels pretty fucking good. 
That holds the most truth in Seven. After the set was over, they were on a high, laughing and talking to anyone who offered them even a sliver of their time. That’s usually how it goes with a successful set--Seven becomes a magnet for all sorts of attention. Unreachable, untouchable. No wonder you barely had a chance to talk to them after leaving.
It didn’t bother you, considering you were all heading to the bar owner’s apartment for a small after-party. You just assumed you’d talk to Seven there, considering it’s an apartment. Eight-hundred square feet at most. Small enough that you could spot Seven’s familiar red bandana in any crowd. 
Or not. 
The group you just asked share equally confused looks and answer with varying shrugs. 
You huff, pushing through the slightly sparse but growing crowd. You maneuver through the kitchen and ask a haggle of women who claim they didn’t even see Seven arrive. The man standing alone in the hall? Saw Seven once and never again.
You’re growing frustrated.
With every answer, your impatient grows. Where the hell could Seven be? You came with them but were quickly swept away by the hordes of people throwing various questions and praise your way. Seven hasn’t responded to any of your texts either, which sprouts up a small seed of worry in you. 
“Hey, MC!” 
You look up to see Jazzy beckoning you over to the couch in the living room, where most people have congregated. In the center stands Rowan, gesticulating wildly as he tells a story from high school...one you’re sure you’ve heard many times before.
Jazzy waves you over again and you sigh. Half your mind still on Seven’s whereabouts, you stride through the living room and take a seat in the corner of the couch next to Iris, half your body pressed against the armrest.
“…and that’s when I had to sit down because I kid you not, I was about to fucking eat concrete…”
The group laughs as Rowan weaves a tale of failed skateboarding antics. The names of you and your friends come up a few times, and whenever Seven is mentioned you can’t help but jolt and look around in hopes that they slipped back inside at some point in the story. With every mention, your body deflates further and further.
Until your phone buzzes. 
You turn it around, only to catch Seven finally responding to your million texts asking where they are.
Seven: Roof
You quirk a brow at the message—the one word that says so much—and type something quickly in return.
You: Thought you died.
Another buzz.
Seven: Can’t get rid of me that easily.
You snort, though no one else is laughing. You lower your phone a bit to appear engaged but send back a quick text. 
You: Aw, really? I was hoping I’d finally be free of you.
Seven: Har-har. Are you coming or not? I’m feeling lonelyyyy
Your heart races and another laugh bubbles out of you when Seven sends a GIF of someone ungracefully falling on the floor. You didn’t realize how much of a relief it is to hear from them until now, seeing Seven’s text on your screen. Is your body that attuned to them? That, whenever they’re gone, you can feel their absence, so palpable it’s as if a part of you is missing? When they’re near, you feel more than complete. Drowning in so much joy that it’s almost overwhelming?
What do you call that?
You shake away the thoughts and send a reply: Coming. 
Brushing yourself off when you stand, you catch your friends looking at you. You shoot Rowan a small smile and walk out of the living room, where you quickly hear him go into another story about who-knows-what. At least the party seems interested.
Another buzz. 
Seven: Bring some bears please
You: Bears? 
Seven: Beers. Whatever. 
Shaking your head, you put your phone away and divert your path to the kitchen where you swipe two bottles of beer. You use the end of the counter to pop open the tops before making your way out of the apartment…only to soon realize you don’t actually don’t know where you’re going.
Dangling the beers between two fingers, you take out your phone. 
You: Where am I going?
Seven: Are you serious? It’s a roof. Just go up.
Seven: lol
You: I will kill you.
Seven: OMG you really are trying to get rid of me
You: Seven Lawless
Seven: Using my whole name? Just shivered. The roof entrance is down the hall to your left. Ignore the signs telling you…not to go to the roof. 
You move to the door and sure enough, there is a large sign warning of any trespassers. 
You: You mean the sign saying that ‘violators will be fined and/or arrested?’
Seven: Ignore it. It’s just a very strong suggestion
Seven: (trust me) 
Scoffing, you push it open with your shoulder and go up the single flight of stairs to the roof. Stepping outside grants you a cacophony of sounds; car horns, the sound of the wind rushing past your cheeks, music playing from Seven’s phone. 
“I’m starting to think you look at the floor plan of every place you enter just to find the roof,” you say by way of greeting as you approach them.
Seven looks behind their shoulder from their spot on the ledge, their previously blank face widening into a sly grin. 
Your heart races at the image of Seven smiling at you, though you quickly push it down. You don’t know what’s been happening but lately, everything Seven does pulls a reaction from you. A simple look makes your stomach squeeze. A brush of their hand sends goosebumps up your arms. A smile can throw your whole body out of whack. 
“I needed a break,” Seven replies, turning back around to face ahead. As you get closer, you see their legs dangling over the edge. It’s not too far below—the building is four stories—but it’s still enough to give you vertigo when you go to sit next to them. “Someone asked me to sign their divorce papers."
Your lip twitches as you hand them a bottle. “Did you?”
Seven looks over to you, gaze glittering beneath stray strands of dark hair that fall in front of their eyes. “Yes.” 
You laugh and Seven swats your following hand away in your attempt to shove them to the side. “Woah, woah!” Their brief panic from the possibility of falling is laced with humor and you let out a small, ‘sorry!’ that Seven waves off. 
"Signing divorce papers," you muse. "I wonder what we'll sign when we're global rockstars."
Their humor subsides, and their smile weakens as they toy with their bottle. You wait, silent, as Seven inhales through their nose and says, “Do you ever regret it?” They gesture vaguely around them. “Doing…all of this?”
You face ahead and think about it, stretching your legs out in front of you. “Not really. Do you?”
Seven takes a swig of their drink before setting it down next to them, lifting both shoulders in a quick shrug. “No. This is all I ever wanted to do.”
“Then why don’t you sound so convinced?”
Their eyes cut to yours and they snort a little. 
“Hey, you brought it up,” you prod.
They huff through their nose, eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. “Shut up.” Once again, their humor is brief, and you start to think that there must be something within Seven that’s torn, fighting to come out. It wouldn’t surprise you; Seven has always loved too much, hurt too much, felt too much. They call it a Fatal Flaw, how attached they get, but really, you find it endearing. It’s rare to find people like them in this world. You wish they knew that. “Ah, I don’t want to ruin the mood.”
You nudge them. “Say it.” 
They begin rocking back and forth in thought, nudging you back every time they move. “Sometimes…when I’m on stage…” They clear their throat. “Sometimes I feel so lonely.”
Oh.
You expected many things, but not that. 
Lonely? Seven is lonely? Granted, Seven hasn’t had the greatest home life, but you assumed that they found an abundance of people to surround themselves with. Hell, they looked like they were having the time of their life after the gig!
Seven’s frowning now, their eyes glazing over with an emotion you can’t read. “I see all those faces and I love it. The attention. The way they sing our songs. I feel fucking alive, you know?”
You nod, hanging on to every word. You understand them; the feeling of music and standing on that stage, singing emotions and states of being that can’t be explained in any other way but through song.
“But then I look back and…” They chew on their inner cheek, brows furrowing as they evidently search for the right words. “I wonder if they see me. Like really see me.” 
Your lips part. For a moment, you’re speechless. “Sev—“
“And I know it’s unfair to think that,” Seven breaks in quickly. “They’re fans. I shouldn’t put so much responsibility on them, but it just….fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“No!” you say. Seven jolts and whips their head toward you, giving you a look of alarm. “I get what you’re saying.” You adjust to face them completely. “I feel it too, sometimes. You just want to be seen not as Seven Lawless but…” You clear your throat. “Seven Duckstein. You know?”
Seven holds your gaze. Their eyes sparkle under the fairy lights that are strung around the lattice detailing on the roof. As their eyes dart around your face, searching for something, you wonder if it was wrong to bring up their real name. It’s always been a sore topic for them, amongst other things. You just hope Sev understands what you’re trying to say. 
They crack a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”
You let out a small breath of relief, grateful Seven understands what you mean. You gaze around, looking down at the street below. Distantly, you can feel Seven’s eyes still on you. Your skin burns under their stare, but you do your best to keep looking at the tiny people running inside shops, chatting, and slipping into cars. Living entire lives that you will never know the depth of. 
You wonder if you have learned the true depth of Seven Duckstein. Even after all these years…they still seem like a mystery to you. 
And you sort of hate how exciting that feels. As if uncovering the hidden layers of your best friend is something to look forward to. 
“I’m not lonely with you, though.”
Your eyes flicker up to meet theirs. You laugh a little. “How could you be? I’m with you 24/7.”
Seven rolls their eyes and it’s their turn to shove you. “Can you be serious a sec? I’m trying to tell you I appreciate you.” They drag the syllables on the word ‘appreciate,’ trying to emphasize the severity of the moment. 
You raise your palms in mock surrender. “Keep going. I’m listening.”
They pause for a beat. “No. I’m nervous.”
“What!”
“Too much attention.”
“You’re a performer?!”
They raise a finger. “That’s different.” 
“Oh, please—“
Somehow you and Seven fall in a lighthearted round of bickering, swatting each other’s hands as you playfully fight. That fighting soon turns into tickling, and Seven’s usually even voice turns into high-pitched squeals that you wish you could record to use against them later.
You don’t know how it happened, but somehow Seven ends up on their back, sighing happily at the darkened sky that hovers over you both. You lean on your side, your body pressed against Seven’s, and rest your head on your hand.
“Come onnnn,” you prod, poking their rib. They squirm. “Tell me how much you appreciate me.” Your voice softens as Seven’s humor dies. “Tell me how you really feel.”
You meant for it to come out as a joke, but the delicacy in your voice betrays the true intention that’s hiding deep within you.
Seven’s eyes slowly, hesitantly, glide away from the stars pulsing in the sky to meet your eyes. With their hair framing their face, their small smile, and the glare of the fairy lights dancing on their face, they have never looked so vulnerable.
So…different. 
“I don’t think I should.”
That has you stiffening. A flare of panic rises in your stomach. What does Seven mean by that? Part of you knows but…no. You’re being ridiculous. 
They turn their head away, rolling their lips. It’s silent for a moment. You convince yourself Seven won’t speak until they say, “I’m afraid. Of you.”
“What?” you blurt, eyes wide. You hardly know how to act right now. This conversation has gone a direction you’re not sure of.
They turn back to face you. “You have too much power over me. It scares me.”
You open your mouth to speak. The only thing that comes out is a pathetic noise from your throat.
Seven snorts at your reaction, frowning at the sky. “You really don’t know the effect you have on others.”
“I doubt I have any impact on others," you mutter, feeling oddly self-conscious.
“Fine then. You don’t know the effect you have on me.” They huff, throwing their bandana aside to run a hand through their hair in frustration. “It’s kind of annoying.”
You sputter out a laugh, reaching out to poke them again. “Are you seriously insulting me—“ 
Seven grabs your hand mid-way, their skin warm against yours. You look down, staring at the polish on their nails as they curl their hand around your palm. “I’m not trying to insult you.” 
“Then what are you trying to do?” you mumble, your eyes still on your joined skin. 
“I’m trying to do as you asked.” Seven inhales a shuddering breath. “I’m telling you how I really feel.”
You jerk a nod. “Okay. Sorry.” Your voice is quiet. “Go.”
Silence.
Seven’s lip twitches as they look up at you. “Nervous again. Too much attention.”
“Fuck off,” you throw out, though there’s no strength behind your words. 
It’s Seven’s turn to apologize. “Sorry.” They swallow. “I just think I might mess up my words with you looking at me.” 
You debate something. Debate the logic behind whatever you’re going to say next. This moment feels too big to make decisions on feelings you don’t know are fleeting or not. This is Seven. Your best friend. Anything you do will permanently change the comfortable camaraderie you two have had since you were kids. 
But…you can’t stop from thinking it might be worth it anyway. 
“Then don’t use words.” 
Seven’s lips part, mostly from surprise. And then you see it; the shift in their expression-- from uncertain to determined. Their eyes darken and slowly, they release their grip on your hand to place it on the back of your neck, pulling you toward them. 
Your heart races in your chest. Are you two really doing this? After years of casual closeness; sleepovers, handshakes, private looks across crowded rooms. Has there been an underlying attraction you just never paid attention to? Or maybe you did, and both of you were too afraid to confront it. 
Seven is slow at firs, as if they aren't quite sure they should be doing this after all. But when you don’t pull away they grow the confidence to close the remaining inches of space between you.
Kissing Seven isn't like anything you imagined. And you can't lie; you've imagined it plenty of times.
What is happening...?
Lips warm against yours, you clutch the leather of their jacket as they pull you closer. The kiss is a messy and desperate dance of teeth and tongues but you don’t mind. Not when Seven tastes like gum and alcohol and is sending goosebumps down your arms as they absently run circles on the skin of your neck. 
Messy seems about right.
Seven smells of lavender and pine and mint and so many other smells you never noticed until now, when you’re so aware of them and their existence that your brain can’t make out any words except Seven Seven Seven.
Seven kisses you like it's their own salvation; as if kissing you now is the only thing anchoring them to this moment. As if pulling away means breaking whatever dream you two have found yourselves in. So they pull you even closer, deepening the kiss and sighing happily into your mouth.
You could kiss Seven Lawless all night. Shit, you could kiss Seven Lawless forever.
They tug on your lower lip with their teeth just lightly before closing their mouth to plant a more chaste kiss before pulling away. You swallow a frustrated groan, stifling the urge to pull them back into another kiss. 
Your eyes flutter open at the loss of warmth.
"That...that was a lot better than I thought," they breathe.
"You've thought about it?" you joke, careful not to speak too loudly in fear of ruining the moment.
Their answering nod is jerky. "Yeah. An embarrassing amount of times."
You both laugh. The humor quickly dies. Then...the worst part comes: the silence.
The horrible, awkward silence.
See, no one ever talks about what comes afterward. The reality of realizing what it is you've just done. The panic that follows the post-kiss clarity.
“Uh…”
“Er…”
They slowly drop their hand from your neck. 
And then they burst up, making you fall back on your ass. 
“You—“ They whirl around. “Did you just kiss me?”
“Me?!” you guffaw, standing on your feet as well. “You mean you kissed me!”
“Me?” They stand there, and then a manic, happy laugh escapes them. You watch as they put their hands on both of their cheeks, blowing out a long breath. “So I did, didn’t I?”
It’s your turn to laugh. You feel drunk. “Yeah. You did.”
“You kissed me back.” Their voice comes out almost accusatory.
“Yeah.” Your brows furrow. “…I did.”
Seven and you stand there. A rush of wind passes. Neither of you speak.
Until both of you do.
“That—“
“We—“
Seven physically clamps their mouth shut with their hand. Your brain is a static fuzz of nothingness. 
Songwriters at a loss for words. It’s almost funny. 
“Is…” You clear your throat. “Is that how you really feel?”
Seven meets your eyes and then quickly looks away. “Yeah.” A mumble. “For a while now.”
Your eyes widen. “I—“
“Don’t say anything!” Seven raises a hand, stopping you. 
You jolt, mostly because Seven just acted like they saw a bug or something. “What!”
“You know in the movies and TV shows where a person confesses to another person and that other person feels obligated to say something back even though they likely didn’t think it through as long as the other person?” Seven says in one breath.
You blink. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“—well, I always found that to be pathetic. Almost like a pity response.” They begin nervously smoothing their hands on their pants, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Just don’t…say anything, okay?”
“Seven.”
Seven, still a bit frantic, comes over to you and puts their hands on your shoulders. “Just forget this happened. I’ll get over it. I just…I may have drank a bit and I needed to get it out of my system and I don’t want this to ruin what we have.” 
You have whiplash. Maybe it was you who drank too much. You two were just kissing—kissing—and now Seven is telling you to forget it...?
“That kiss was in the heat of the moment and I mean, I did like it but it may be weird and we’ve been best friends for so long that I know you might find it odd. And hey,“--they let out a burst of shaky laughter--"maybe we can write a song out of thi--'
You pull their face forward, stifling the rest of their words in another pathetically desperate kiss that burns you all over.
It takes Seven a few seconds to catch up, but when they do, their hands go from your shoulders to your cheeks, cupping your face.
By the time you pull away, you're both slightly breathless. You say, “Just…shut up.”
Seven simply stares at you, parted lips glistening and eyes peering at you as if you’re a painting in the Louvre. Like you're something worth their awe and wonder. 
Maybe it’s now, just like when they were laying down, that Seven is seeing you differently too.
The sound of metal squeaks in the air with the door opening. You and Seven jolt, quickly shuffling away from each other just as Rowan, Iris, Devyn, and Jazzy appear. 
“We were looking for you gu—what’s going on?” Jazzy asks, her eyes darting between you two.
“Nothing.” Seven takes a wide step away from you, swiping a hand across their lips. You swear you see the shadow of a smile on their face. “We were just...talking.”
“You were missing the party, Sev Sev.” Jazzy comes over to Seven and throws her arm around their neck in some sort of move that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Where did you go?”
“Sorry, Jazz Jazz,” Seven jokes back, exasperated. They keep one eye on you as Jazzy pulls them away back inside. They steal one glance at you before they disappear down the stairs.
You stand there, ruminating over what just happened. Your lips still sting and the phantom touch of Seven’s mouth still makes the hair on your arms rise.
“You okay?” 
Rowan’s voice has you jolting back to the present. “What?”
“You and Seven.” Rowan gestures at you. “Are you guys alright?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” You wave a dismissive hand as you begin walking back inside. “Totally. We’re just peachy. What are we doing?”
“We’re heading home, actually,” Iris says, shooting you a curious look. “Party got boring.”
You snort, and you and your friends walk down the stairs to meet Seven and Jazzy in the hall. Seven looks your way and quickly averts their gaze, grazing the bottom of their teeth along their lip in evident thought.
You know, eventually, you and Seven will have to talk about…whatever that was that just happened. You’re not quite sure yet what it means. Though you do know one thing: tonight has changed something. Suddenly your friendship is something far more than precious: it’s fragile. And you can’t help but wonder what that kiss means for it.
“Should we get something to eat?” Iris asks the group as you saunter out of the building. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Rowan snorts, weaving Iris’s jab. 
“I’m okay with anything you want.” As Seven says this, they look over to you, and you know they’re not just talking about food.
“Yeah,” you decide. “Me too.”
“Burgers it is,” Iris says. Devyn hums in agreement.
Seven smiles at you, and you can feel the shift in them. When they gaze at you, something else lies there. Something else that makes your heart quicken.
Yeah, you may not know what comes next in your friendship, but you do know one thing: you and Seven will never part.
And that thought comforts you.
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tabbedtabby · 8 months ago
Text
good luck, babe! | chapter 3
regina george x reader
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summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.
a/n: not proofread 😗 sorry
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After Regina’s demand that you help her with her math, you set up an arrangement for you to come over after school on Mondays and Wednesdays. Lucky you.
She’s in the lowest possible math class you can take as a junior, so you don’t think the tutoring thing will be too hard. What you’re really worried about is being at her house. The woods were your turf; Regina’s house was completely different territory. God, you wish you never got caught up in any of this in the first place. Not like it was your fault.
What makes it even worse is that Regina isn’t even bad company most of the time. Sure, she’s a total bitch, but she’s funny and some of her stories are entertaining to listen to. Mostly because they’re so stupid. You’d consider her a friend if you could find an ounce of compassion in her and if she didn’t practically ruin your life at school. You had to start eating lunch in the bathroom because even your group of guitar geeks started to turn on you. It was embarrassing, but perhaps a blessing in disguise since you don’t really like talking to them anyway. It was kind of nice to be ignored sometimes.
On Monday, you go back behind the baseball field anyway. You have no way to communicate with Regina and you doubt she’ll want to be seen with you in the student parking lot, so you wait for her to find you.
This was such a waste of time. Lately it felt like your entire life revolved around her. You’re a pariah at school because of rumors she made up, and then right after the bell rings you’re smoking and laughing with her. Just to go home, sleep, and do it all again the next day. You lay your head back against a tree. The days were starting to get colder.
After a couple of minutes, you almost doze off until you hear the harsh snap of twigs under storming feet. Uh-oh. Regina was pissed.
“What the hell? Are you stupid? Did you forget what day it is?” You hear her before you even see her. If she was gonna be like this, you’d rather just go home. You bite your tongue absentmindedly.
“Aren’t I too embarrassing to be seen going home with?” you respond dryly, but you can’t help but smile a bit. She got mad over the stupidest things. If anyone should be angry, it should be you.
“Obviously. But making me walk all the way back here was cruel.” she says with a small raise of her eyebrows, and you realize she’s not really pissed. You’re not used to her joking with you. You flash her a smile.
“I’m sure you’ll survive,” you snide, throwing one strap of your bag back over your shoulder.
“Won’t. Anyway, are we going or not?” Regina says with exaggerated annoyance, turning back around with a grace you’ll never have in a million years. She throws her hair over her shoulder and begins to stalk off between the trees.
The drive to Regina’s house is awkward. Mostly because she makes you sit in the back in case anyone were to see you in the passenger seat. Just about everyone in town knew what Regina’s car looked like, so you can’t say you’re surprised.
When Regina finally pulls into her massive driveway, you’re instantly in awe of the giant house that sits before you. You’ve seen it before on Instagram, but never in person. It has elegant pillars and a round shape that makes it look like a giant jewelry box. You grew up on the poorer side, so it feels like a movie to step into a house like this.
“Ugh. You’re acting like Cady, it’s gross,” you hear Regina complain as you look around the inside of the house with wonder. It’s so pristine that it doesn’t even look lived in. How a child was raised here is beyond you.
Regina seems eager to get upstairs, and you realize why when you see a woman round the corner as if she’s been waiting for this moment her entire life. You can tell she’s Regina’s mother almost immediately. They both have bleach blonde hair, sharp blue eyes, and a sharp face. Regina’s is intimidating while her mother’s is a bit kinder.
“Ooh, who’s this? Definitely not the usual three!” Regina’s mother asks with sparking excitement, taking a few steps towards you and reaching her hands out to cup your face. You’re sure she’s just trying to be nice, but her hands are cold and her attention on you is uncomfortable. Regina’s annoyance is almost palpable in the air.
“She’s just helping me with math, don’t be gross,” Regina spits out, as if the words were bile in her throat. “Please leave.”
“Okay, sweetie!” Regina’s mother says, her voice still light as if Regina’s tone didn’t phase her at all. You blink in shock at the whole interaction as her hands drop from your cheeks. “Let me know if you want snacks later! Slay the day away!”
You cringe a bit at her use of modern slang, but you instantly feel bad. She’s obviously trying her best.
Regina seems to have the same reaction, just without the pity. She immediately purses her lips in annoyance and shepards you up the stairs, apparently urgent to get away from her mother. This is the first and only time you will ever be grateful for Regina.
“God, sorry about that. She’s so annoying. It’s just like being at school; she literally wants to be me.” Regina scoffs, the perfect mix of annoyed and amused. You hardly even hear her anyway just by the sight of her massive room. It’s probably over triple the size of your own and a lot more majestic. It’s almost regal. If you lived in a castle like this, you’d act like a princess too.
Regina throws her bag on the ground and kicks her shoes off. She’s wearing a black leather vest today along with pants of a similar texture. The whole biker aesthetic she’s got going on clashes with her bright pink room, but somehow she makes it work. She looks good in the leather.
She obviously doesn’t want to start right away, but you’re not trying to stay for dinner so you make her get her math stuff out. Apparently, sitting at her desk is too much effort for her, so you both end up sitting on her bed.
She’s taking Geometry, which you don’t know how that’s even possible for a junior, but it starts to make sense when Regina displays not even an ounce of skill when you go through her review packet. If she’s trying to stay on the soccer team, it’s going to take a lot of work on her part. She doesn’t even seem remotely interested in what you’re trying to explain. You’re biting back the annoyance at this point; she could at least make the smallest effort.
“Regina, you’re not gonna learn anything unless you actually pay attention to what I’m saying.” you eventually snap, putting your head in your hands for a moment as you rub your temple. Proofs were basically just logic and she was even having trouble with that. It didn’t help that you were starving and Regina seemed adamant on keeping her mother from bringing the two of you anything.
“I was at school all day, I’m tired,” she says lazily, pushing the side of her head into one of her palms. Her hair furls up into her hand and she looks straight out of a daydream. How she manages to looks perfectly articulated even while annoyed is beyond you.
“So am I, but I’m here helping you instead of in my bed. At your request, by the way, so can you please just help me out here?” You want so badly to snap at her, but she really does look tired. You seriously can’t believe you feel bad for Regina George, whose biggest problem is staying awake while trying to do homework, but you’re tired too so you kinda get it. She’s basically falling asleep in the palm of her hand until she looks up at you indignantly.
“Do you want to play soccer?” you ask, putting your hands in your lap. Have to scare her into doing math somehow.
Regina seems to think for a moment before pursing her lips slightly. “You are so annoying.” she says, but props her head up to look at the packet again. You smile a bit and point back at where you left off.
It takes a while, but eventually you get some terms down. She’s only doing proofs for line segments so far, so you try to explain to her that it’s basically just a set of directions of how to figure something out. She kind of gets it. ‘Kind of’ will keep her on the soccer team, so overall you’re happy with today’s progress.
As Regina puts her stuff back into her bag, you slide off the bed to get your own. You want to go home, but at the same time, you want to pass out on Regina’s bed and never get back up. It was almost comforting in here with the large, soft bed and the colorfully decorated walls. You bet sleeping in that bed would be like drowning in dough.
Regina frowns at you when you stand up and gather your things. Per usual, you pretend you don’t notice to avoid an unsavory comment.
“Where are you going?” she asks. You bite your lip. You guess pretending not to notice isn’t going to work this time around.
“It’s staring to get dark out, I should probably go.” you say with a shrug. You’d probably have to make dinner for your brother tonight.
“Well, duh, it gets dark out, like, super early now.” she complains, looking at you the same way she looks at Gretchen when she says something Regina doesn’t like. “Come on, don’t be a loser. I wanna show you something.”
You like it a lot more when she’s nice to you than when she’s not, and the small smile on her lips makes her look all too innocent. You know this is just how she lures people in; you’d seen it happen in real time with Cady. But if you were aware of it, then you couldn’t be fooled, right? Besides, you want to know what she has to show you. Your brother was old enough to make his own dinner.
“Fine,” you say with a slight roll of your eyes, and Regina gives you an approving smile. You can kind of understand why people at school seek out Regina’s approval so much. It does feel nice to be accepted by her, even if it’s just by the small gesture of staying in Regina’s room a little longer. You’re not dependant on it like they are, however. It’s just nice to not be slandered by her for once.
You sit back down on Regina’s bed as she looks in her closet for something, supposedly whatever she wants to show you. The bed’s so lush it threatens to swallow you. Your eyes watch Regina’s back as she digs through baskets of what you think to be old clothes. You’d always imagined she would have one of those giant walk-in closets that are almost like another room, but her closet looks similar to yours, maybe a bit more modern.
Regina comes back with a big pink book in one hand and a dangerous smile on her lips. You raise an eyebrow at her as she tosses it on the bed, front cover up. It says “Burn Book” in different sized letters that remind you of those ransom notes you see on TV. You raise your eyebrows.
“What is this? Did you make it?” you ask as she plops back down on the bed beside you. You reach a hand out to touch the letters, but Regina slaps your wrist away before you get the chance.
“Obviously, I made it,” she responds snarkily, flipping open the cover. “I kinda forgot about it until we looked through it a couple weeks ago. Now I can’t stop.”
At first you think it’s some kind of scrapbook until you see the text underneath each photo. Calling people bitches, sluts, shrimps, or whichever demeaning name Regina saw fit. It’s demented, but exactly what you’d expect from Regina. It’s almost like having a catalog of every rumor she’s ever made up. Sure enough, you see your name on the next page. The caption on your page is along the lines of what you hear in the halls every time the bell rings.
“So this is where that came from?” you ask, feeling the annoyance bubble up inside of you again. You were beginning to forget about it after hanging out with Regina so much, she almost seemed like somewhat of a friend.
“Come on, don’t act all pissed about it. I thought you didn’t care.” she says, sounding more annoyed you mentioned it than apathetic.
“I punched you. I obviously care.” you snap in response.
What you expect to come next is an apology. You openly admitted that what Regina did hurt your feelings, although it was more of the fact that her rumors drove away all of your friends. She quite literally ruined your social life, even if she does hang out with you now. If you could even call it that. All she does is smoke your weed for free in exchange for her to not further ruin your life.
But she doesn’t apologize. Regina just scoffs then goes right back to flipping through the pages of the Burn Book, completely unbothered. She really doesn’t care. You know she doesn’t really know you, but you thought she knew you well enough to at least feel bad about spreading false information about you.
You should get angry again, storm off like you did the other day in the woods. But all you do is sit there. Why do you care, anyway? You knew she was awful, inside and out, when you made that deal with her. You know she doesn’t care about how her actions affect people, not even her closest friends. Even if she would be nothing without them. It makes sense she would disregard your feelings just the same.
You realize you’re stupid for expecting an apology from Regina. She obviously didn’t care. It’s not like you were expecting to form some kind of bond with her, but you thought she’d at least recognize you as someone decent instead of the predator she’s made you out to be. Maybe it’s unfair of you to expect decency from someone infamous for being intolerable. You sigh deeply through your nose and push yourself off the bed.
“I really should go. See you,” you say, exasperated, slinging your bag over your shoulder and leaving the room before Regina gets the chance to respond. You think she yells something at you, but you’re already halfway down the stairs. She doesn’t follow you.
It was probably a dick move to leave so suddenly, but you had to get out of there. You know you shouldn’t be surprised Regina doesn’t care about ruining your reputation, but you were starting to think she was all right. You roll your eyes. This is so dumb. You shouldn’t even be giving it second thought. This is just the way that it is now, whether you like it or not.
-
By the time you finish walking home, it’s already dark outside. There’s a pot of mac and cheese sitting on the stove, the light still left on in the kitchen. You guess your brother managed to figure it out.
You’re hungry, but so tired from not eating that all you want to do is lay down. You make your way down the hall to your room. You’re sure you’ll find your way to the kitchen sometime in the night.
You don’t bother to change as you lay down on your bed. It seems so insignificant compared to Regina’s giant princess bed that seemed more like laying on the world’s softest stuffed animal. Yours was like a rock in comparison.
You pull your cart out of your bra and take a couple hits, staring up at the dark ceiling. Everything’s already beginning to feel farther away, but it may just be the illusion of the dark. You can’t seem to get Regina off your mind. It was such a random thing to begin your junior year; you’d never imagined you’d fall victim to one of her rumors in such a devastating way. And then the whole smoking after school thing and now tutoring her. It almost felt like Regina wanted to spend time with you the way she always asks you to stay longer than you had to.
It felt rewarding to have her attention. You can kind of understand the dependence everyone at school has to it now. She’s charming in a way that lures people in, only to discard them after she gets what she wants. You’ve noticed the first few signs of Regina trying to do the same to you, but you’re not sure what you can offer her that she doesn’t already have. Either way, you have to be careful. She could just be trying to get more shit on you to spread around. You can’t fathom why; the worst thing you’ve ever done to her is avoid her.
And the fact she didn’t apologize is really starting to bother you. You feel it’s unfair to see someone every single day, smoke with them, tell them the little parts of your day, and then not even feel bad for turning them into an outcast. Maybe it’s on you for even expecting one. This is Regina George, after all. Even if she did treat you like a friend sometimes, which isn’t much better considering the way she treats Karen, Gretchen, and Cady.
Why you’re still thinking about this is beyond you. Maybe you’re not as immune to her manipulation as you thought. Whether it was positive or negative thoughts, you were still thinking about her. It was really starting to piss you off. Just the fact that you didn’t mind her company anymore was enough to make you mad.
You roll over and stick your nose in another blanket. The weed does its job at making you feel disconnected from your body and you’re thankful for it. This whole mess had you thinking way too much. It was stupid.
Maybe you’ll ask for an apology tomorrow.
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roo-bastmoon · 8 months ago
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Off My Chest
Rant about Hybe under the cut. I give you my word I will try to post a majority of positive content, because the world (and my mental health) doesn't need more negativity, but sometimes you just gotta vent.
Folks, if you've known me for a hot second, you've realized I am a Jimin-biased Jikooker... but I am OT7, and I sincerely love and support BTS.
I believe Jimin is a grown man who can advocate for himself and I believe Jungkook absolutely supports and adores him, whatever their relationship status is.
I always try to accentuate the positive and avoid online drama and negativity as much as possible, but I need to get this off my chest.
I will never be gas-lit into believing that the way Jimin was treated in solo era was fair, or equitable, or even made any kind of business-sense. I've genuinely tried to entertain other people's points of view and listen to people who claim to have industry expertise, but...
I will never forget his mail being tampered with four times, his leaked insurance information, denial of more music videos, overlapped solo release, only 9 days of promotion, split title tracks, no radio or play-listing, no bio for his Spotify for months, no restock of his single CD for months, hundreds of thousands of frozen and deleted sales, millions of culled streams, shady articles in WeVerse and Billboard, insulting dialogue in In the Seom, failure to submit to RIAA certification for months, only a paywall documentary on WeVerse, zero official acknowledgement of his Hot 100 #1, 1 billion streams on Spotify, or wins for The Fact, MAMA, and two Webbys, plus broken in-ears, anemic little balloons and a sad background tarp as decorations for his fan events… and the company telling him how doing more would just be impossible.
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I compare all that to the push that other members and other groups got, and I know it just isn't true. It wasn't impossible.
Hell, Jeon Jungkook put in more effort to promote Jimin’s work and showed more respect for Jimin as an artist during his at-home lives than that whole company did, which honestly makes no sense from a profit standpoint.
I will never forget it, and I will not entertain arguments that say I’m a solo or an anti or jealous about it. I have eyes.
I am not out to shade any other members nor put forth any conspiracy theories. I simply want all our boys to get everything they justly deserve.
And yes, other members have suffered mishaps and neglect, but nothing of this scale, this consistently. It baffles me, I cannot understand it, and I'm done trying. Something strange was going on behind the scenes and we may never be privy to the details.
In trying to put this awful feeling behind me, I will say I am elated that Jikook are serving together and can support each other. I am glad there will be a Jikook travel show. I'm continually impressed with all of Jimin's success (in the military and professionally) despite all odds. I will always love and support all of BTS with my full heart.
And I sincerely hope the company has been taking notes and course-corrects for PJM2, even if it rubs some higher ups the wrong way if they had a different vision. Considering Jimin’s unique talents and his amazing star power—even his ability to bring Paris and New York to a screaming standstill just for the opportunity to see him exit a car—I would hope the company will “do their best to promote all labels and artists without discrimination” going forward.
But what happened truly sucked, and I needed to get that off my chest. I am not interested in further discussion or debate. I am now going to do my best to shift my focus and energy on to the things I want to manifest, instead of the things that enrage me.
So let me end on a positive and hopeful note: I put all my trust in Jimin, who signed a new contract with Hybe and who unfailingly adores all his members. There can be no love without trust. I will always do my best to trust BTS.
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But I'm watching carefully. For Jimin and all our boys.
Love, Roo
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janeyseymour · 10 months ago
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Your Song
a sweet one shot based on Elton John's Your Song. Attached is my own version of it, if you wanted to give it a listen!
WC: ~1.95k
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Melissa is sitting next to you as the two of you soak up the sun in the Summer morning. You both have your cups of coffee, waking up with the sun and the world around you, not quite used to sleeping in just yet. You have your guitar with you, and you’re strumming little tunes and fingerpicking different licks that feed your heart and your soul as she watches you in awe. And then something happens, and you begin to play a tune that you really haven’t played in a while. You sing it in earnest as your heart swells with love for the woman beside you. She has a gentle hand on your knee, and she squeezes it gently when you sing the first line of one of her favorite songs.
It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside… I’m not one of those who can easily hide.
You remember when you first realized that you had feelings for the redhead who worked in the room next door to you. It was… unpredictable to say the least. And once you realized that, you did everything you could to hide those feelings for her. You were shocked that you were able to because well… you weren’t someone who could usually hide.
It took you months to confess your feelings to the redhead, when she was speaking of finally getting herself back out there, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Just one date with me,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “Just one. And if it doesn’t work… it doesn’t work.”
She took you up on that offer, and here you were- three years later and married. You never thought you would get a chance with the absolutely stunning woman that was Melissa Schemmenti, but here the two of you were with shining diamonds on your fingers and the change in your last name to show for it. You haven’t been happier, and Melissa hasn’t been happier either- Barbara has attested to that too, so you know its the truth. 
I don’t have much money, but boy if I did- I’d buy a big house where we both could live.
As two teachers working in center city Philadelphia in an underfunded and poorly run school, you weren’t rolling in dough- even though the redheaded second grade teacher has been with the district for over two decades and has unofficial tenure.
But the two of you have spoken about moving out of your tiny little townhouse and upgrading to a big house. One where the two of you could live, and you think you might have convinced her at this point to have at least one child of her own.
“I mean… I would love to have a little Schemmenti running around,” you admit shyly as your curled up on the couch one night. You’re watching some movie where the main character is pregnant, and it makes you yearn for a child of your own.
“Y/N,” Melissa sighs as she looks at you. “I’m too old to have a baby.”
“But I’m not,” you tell her. “And… you’re so good with the kids at school, and I’ve seen the way that you go out of your way to make babies smile while we’re grocery shopping.”
Your wife purses her lips. “M-maybe. But I have to think on it.”
You give her your best puppy dog eyes.
“If we can get the money for a nice house and to afford IVF… I don’t think it’s off the table.”
You made her pinky swear that if you ever had the money and you were still at the age where you could bear a child, the two of you would go through with it. After that, you got a job at the local diner waitressing on Sundays. She hates it because it steals you from her, but she always comes in to visit you and keep you company. The money that you make immediately goes into a jar that has the words ‘Future’ written on it in your loopy handwriting.
So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do… You see I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue. Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen. Who are you kidding? You could never in a million years the beautiful shade of green that your wife’s eyes are. They were the first thing you noticed when you met her five years ago. She didn’t believe you when you told her that.
“Was it my boobs?” she chuckles on your third date. 
You roll your eyes. “Your eyes. They’re… mesmerizing. I saw the way that they sparkled when you were talking about your kids or someone you loved, and I was determined to make your sweet eyes sparkle like that… did I succeed?”
“I would say so,” she smirks as she leans in to kiss you.
“Good,” you mumble against her lips. “They’re gorgeous, you know.”
“My eyes?” the redhead practically swoons.
You see your opportunity, and you run with it. “No. Your boobs,” you deadpan.
She smacks you on the arm playfully, and you put your arms up in defense. “Hey! I was joking!”
Since meeting her, you’re positive that her eyes are the sweetest ones you’ve ever seen. They’re so… expressive. You can see in her beautiful eyes when she loves something or someone, and you consider yourself the luckiest woman alive to be able to get to see them every morning when you wake up.
And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done- I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is now you’re in the world.
You didn’t even really mean for this Elton John to turn into your song, but it did. You were just playing around on the guitar that she keeps in her classroom while you waited for her to finish up dismissal duty for the day.
If you’re being quite honest, you forgot that you even knew you could play that song until you heard it on the radio in her car this morning. So, after a few misfired chords, you begin to play and lay your voice over the simplistic yet stunning chords.
She comes in, ready to head out for the night, when she sees you sitting up on her counter, criss crossed and with the stringed instrument in hand. And then she hears your voice. And she can’t do anything but lean against the doorframe and listening to your soft and angelic voice.
When you fire out the last chord, she starts clapping softly from where she stands, and it startles you. You immediately turn red upon seeing her. 
"I didn’t know you play,” Melissa says softly as she comes in.
“I dabble,” you shrug as you put her guitar back where it lives.
She furrows her brows. “I wouldn’t call that dabbling. How long you been playing?”
“Since I was thirteen,” you shrug. “My dad taught me basic chords, and I just picked up the rest.”
“Well, you’re damn good. And I love that song.”
“I do too.”
“Play it again for me when we get to my place?” she asks as she grabs your bags.
You do, and she sits and watches, mesmerized.
“Those words are true, you know,” you say softly. “Life is wonderful now that you’re in the world… my world.”
She kisses you gently as she wraps her arms around your waist. “It’s like I see in technicolor now.”
If I was a sculptor, but then again, or a man who makes a position in a traveling show. I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do. My gift is my song, and this one’s for you.
“Do you ever think we would be better off if we weren’t teachers? Or at least one of us wasn’t?” you ask Melissa.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean like… if I was a sculptor, or… someone who makes potions in a traveling show,” you sigh softly. “Like in our song… maybe then we could have a big wedding.”
Your fiancée rolls her eyes as she pauses making dinner to wrap her arms around you. “I think that we both love teaching, and I think that I love this little life of ours, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
“I just… I know it’s not much,” you frown slightly. “We could be so much better off.”
“We’re doing the best that we can do, and that’s more than enough for me,” Melissa promises you as she kisses your cheek. 
“I know that’s what you say, but-”
“If you were a sculptor or a man who made potions in a traveling show, I would never see you,” she says softly. “Being on the same schedule is really nice.”
You smile a bit sadly. “I just wish that-”
“I don’t wish for anything else… we have a perfect life,” Melissa promises you. “Besides, you know I don’t want a big wedding- having just our Abbott family and our families.”
“A-are you sure?”
“As long as I have you, it’s enough,” the redhead kisses you softly.
And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done- I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is now you’re in the world.
Your big day has arrived, and as of an hour ago, you are officially Mrs. Y/N Schemmenti. After a simple ceremony in the courtyard at the school, the place that brought the two of you together in the first place, you move the ‘reception’ over to Barbara’s house.
Your wife had insisted on making all of the food for the party, and by some grace of God, the task at hand was completed last night. Barb spent this morning decorating and giving Gerald detailed instruction of how to lay it out so it was ready for when you all got to the Howard household before heading out to witness the two of you tie the knot.
When you get there, it’s beautiful- more beautiful than you had expected. There’s a stunning balloon arch, a garden of flowers, pictures of the two of you, and a few tables set up perfectly.
Your eyes well, as much as you will them not to. “How did we afford all of this?” you whisper to Melissa.
“We didn’t.” You look over at her, and her eyes are shining with tears too. “Barb?”
“The Abbott crew threw it together for our two favorite teachers,” the kindergarten teacher smiles. “Go on.”
Mr. Johnson announces the two of you in with the most sincerity that you’ve ever heard from him before he says softly, “And for your first dance…”
He hits play on the phone that is connected, and the familiar melody melts over your body as you pull your wife in close.
The Abbott clan and your families watch as the two of you sway back and forth, dancing together as a married couple for the first time. Barbara films it, tears of happiness falling down her cheeks.
“I hope you don’t mind… I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words… how wonderful life is, now you’re in the world,” you sing to her softly as she rests her head on your shoulder. 
Life has been strange up until this time in your life, and you’ve had your doubts about love and life before… but with Melissa Schemmenti by your side? Life is wonderful. 
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ivys-garden · 10 months ago
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Alright, I'm going to write my own thoughts down on the situation, sorry if this gets rambly
First of all, Shubble is so brave for speaking up, it's really hard for victims to speak up against there abusers in a public setting and she deserves all the respect in the world for it
That being said we do need to be mindful to give her space, this was a really traumatic thing for her and we all need to be mindful of that, give her room to breath.
On the same lines, don't go after other ccs for not ""releasing statements"", content creators aren't companies, there people. Don't get on at them for not publicly supporting Shubble, especially since there undoubtedly doing it in private, which is probably better than shoving it out there for millions of people to see. Let people support there friend in a way they and shubble are confortable with, if shubble wants them to say something or they think they need to say something themselves, they will say it.
It's like Pearl said, just because you don't see something happening publicly doesn't mean it isn't happening
Also, don't jump to call Tommy or Phil or Grian or anyone else enablers because they haven't said anything, they'll need time to process this too, it's hard to find out that your friend is a domestic abuser, let them process this in piece and don't try to cancel them over nothing like a fool. (People like Tommy will need time especially since Wilbur befriended them when they were young and by all accounts manipulated them too)
If anyone of these people have anything they feel they need to say they'll say it when there good and ready, good life tip folks:Don't Harass People. Especially if they have almost nothing to do with this (honestly Saw someone say they were going to go on to fucking RT about this despite him not knowing either person very well, the fuck)
I know why people do it, they want to make sure there favourite content creators aren't also bad, but they are people and they deserve respect, I can garentee you that almost no Qsmp or Hermitcraft or Other MCYT member who knew him stands with Wilbur
(Also if anyone brings Techno into this fuck right off let the man rest.)
Also, some brain dead morons are saying that people calling out wilbur are doing it for clout and that they should have done it sooner, but most of the abuse happened in private, and wilbur manipulated others, many wouldn't have realised anything was wrong and if they did its still better and more respectful to come forward after shubble since its HER story to tell.
(This attack also doesn't work anymore because we have things like tubbos stream, where he actively discourages his chat from treating him like a hero for speaking out, but yeah sure they all don't give a shit about shubble and just want to make themselves look better, fuck outta here)
Now, if your a former wilbur fan, let me make this super clear
DONT WATCH HIM AND DONT LISTEN TO HIS MUSIC
"BuT SePuRaTe ThE ArT FrOm ThE Arti-
Nah. That doesn't work here. You can separate a book or game or movie, you can't with a cc. Its there face, there voice, there personality. Find a different band, find a different CC to watch. There are other options, I know it sucks to find out someone you like did an awful thing,but that doesn't mean we should support those people for our sakes, especially when people were actively hurt by there actions. Trust me everyone, this will get better, things will go back to how they were before
Finally, this should go without saying, Fuck William Gold to the core of teh fucking earth. And any who still support him.
He is a raging egotistical manipulator and abuser. don't blame people for not seeing it sooner, no one can do that. What we can do though is blame people who still wholeheartedly support him and his actions.
He has not "changed" nor will he ever at the rate at which he's going. He's still a egomaniac who's more concerned with saving his image than actually apologising for his actions, even then an apology wouldn't fix all he's done,it would just be closer and a jumping off point to be better, but he can't even fucking do that.
If wilbur does reflect and grow, good on him, but if he doesn't then I can say with absolute certainty we wouldn't fucking miss him.
Fuck Wilbur. Support Shelbym
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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago
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Hi!! I hope you’re doing well and that you had a wonderful weekend:) My request (if you can) is short and sweet: the first time meeting Jamie’s mum! Maybe a heart to heart between the two women (you loved him first and because of that it is my honor to love him for the rest of my life typa deal) IDK anyway have fun with it and thank you!!!
Done! I love Georgie so much. Like, she gives off total mom vibes in the way where she seems like she’d try to be the sunlight in everyone’s day, you know?
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there is happiness
You’re not taking a bus to fucking Manchester. Shit, you’ll take the train or a cab or maybe even walk before you get on a bus for upward of four hours with the Richmond Greyhounds. 
So why are you packing things into a duffel bag to do just that? It probably has something to do with the man sitting on the floor, debating which pants to pack. 
“Do you think I should take the Calvins?” he asks, pretending not to notice the murderous glare you shoot at him. 
“Don’t know why it matters,” you reply carelessly. “No one’s going to be seeing them anyway.”
Jamie gets up and slides his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to the crook of your neck. 
“Aw, don’t be so hard yourself babe,” he says. “You’re not no one.”
“You know what I mean,” you say, hugging his arms closer. “I’ll have you know I am very, very upset at you.”
You can feel his smirk against your neck. “Right, yeah, if upset is a new aneurism.”
“Euphemism,” you correct. “Wait. Shit. Or is it aneurism? Hey Siri, what’s the difference between a euphemism and an aneurism?”
Siri responds from your phone. 
You say, “Ah yes, an aneurism is what I’m going to have on that fucking bus ride on the way to meet your mum for the first time.”
Jamie flops backward onto the pile of clothes on the bed. “Babe, I don’t know why you’re so stressed out. It’s just my mum. She don’t bite.”
“Ok, sure. Yeah. I’ll calm down if you tell me exactly how many people you’ve brought home to meet her since making it to the Premier League. Actually, you know what? I’ll make it easier for you. You can even include platonic relationships.”
Jamie’s silent. 
“E-fucking-xactly. It’s just been Roy and Keeley. I wasn’t even this stressed when I met Ted because he likes everyone, but this is your mum. What if she hates me? It’s scary.”
“It’s not scary,” Jamie laughs. “She’s gonna love you.” You’re standing in between his legs now and he pulls you on top of him. “You’ll be fine, love, I promise.”
The bus ride was as expected. Smelly, loud, and filled with laughter. The team is still getting in the swing of things without Ted, but they seem to be picking up where he left off. 
You’re not really tired, especially since it’s mid-morning, but you’re pressed against Jamie’s side and he’s warm as always, so you find yourself drifting off.
The boys check into their hotel. You’re not staying with Jamie because the boys have all sorts of team-building things going on and Jamie’s mum insisted that she needs girl time.
You squeeze Jamie’s hand the entire way over to his mum and Simon’s place and he doesn’t even make any jokes about it, just squeezes back. 
Your heart rate shoots up a million times when Jamie knocks, then slows down about 10% when Georgie swings open the door and grabs you in a hug, barely giving Jamie any notice. 
“What the fuck?” he asks, amused. “Hey Simon, how’re you doing?"
“Oh lord, I told myself I wasn’t going to cry,” says Georgie, wiping away a tear. “Never thought he’d come home with a real, actual girl.”
Jamie makes an offended noise. “The fuck do you call all the girls I’ve been with?”
Georgie swats his arm playfully. “You know what I mean, love. None of them were built to last. Only one I sort of liked was that Keeley Jones, but I was never quite convinced you were right for her. But this one- well, must be the first girl you’ve brought home since primary school.”
“Come inside, come inside,” says Simon. “No sense standing in the doorway with the food getting cold.”
He ushers everyone inside and to the couches, and Georgie is latched onto Jamie’s arm now. He’s chattering away about the upcoming match and Roy as the manager, leaving you to take in your surroundings. There are photo prints on the walls and soft lighting and a table with photos of Jamie at every age. 
You smile at him as a baby, same giggly face as ever. 
It’s a nice evening. Simon’s made dinner and Georgie can’t stop beaming or ruffling Jamie’s hair. You’re the only other person on the planet allowed to touch his hair without warning.
He has to leave all too soon (“It’s a pillow fight, babe, and Sam’s fucking asking to get decked in the face,”) so you kiss him goodbye then head inside. It’s just Jamie’s family minus Jamie, and you have no idea how it’s going to go. Is this the moment Georgie tells you she actually hates you and you need to leave her baby boy alone? 
No. What happens instead is she takes your arm and leads you up the stairs to Jamie’s old room.
“Hasn’t changed since he left,” she beams. “Now come on, let’s chat just us girls! I feel like I already know you, what with the way Jamie talks about you all the time. Hardly a word out of his mouth that isn’t about you or footie.”
You grin. “He’s a man of singular tastes, that’s for sure.”
Georgie laughs. “Oh, I bet you’re good for him! Don’t let his head get too big, that’s for sure. My wee sexy baby always did need someone to take him down a few pegs here and there. But don’t let him fool you. He’s fragile as the next person, that one.”
You smile and say, “You two are so similar. He calls himself a ‘sexy baby,’ or a ‘wee sexy lad,’ all the time. And he can’t fool me. I know exactly who he is.”
Georgie’s eyes twinkle as she squeezes your hand. Not quite as strong as Jamie, but still the same type of grip. “Oh I’m sure of that, darling. I’m glad he’s got you all the way out there in Richmond. He’s been alone for a good while.”
You’re well aware of Jamie’s history since leaving Manchester. 
“You know, Keeley’s actually the one who kind of kickstarted all of this,” you say. “We’ve been friends for ages, and she- well, she sort of helped Jamie become a better version of himself.”
Georgie laughs. “Oh, you don’t have to sugarcoat it for me, love. I raised that lad, remember.”
“Ok, fine,” you say smiling, “She broke up with him because he was a massive prick, which started this whole redemption arc and she kind of forced us together at this event and, well, you know the rest. I just feel really, really lucky to be with him. Like if I were anywhere else at any other time, we could have missed each other. I could have missed him so easily.”
You shake your head. It’s hard to imagine a life without Jamie, and you wonder where you’d be at this exact moment if things had gone differently. What would be happening if you’d fought Keeley just a little more?
It doesn’t matter because Georgie’s squeezing your arm and saying, “But you’re here, darling. And it’s so wonderful that you two found each other, because I haven’t seen my baby smile like that in ages. I’ve got no worries about either of you.”
She pulls you into a hug, and it’s all you can do to keep from tearing up. 
God, who knew Jamie’s family would be so quick to accept you?
It’s late now, but you’re positive Keeley is still awake so you open your phone to send her a message.
You could have warned me, you text.
Three bubbles appear, then: what do you mean babe?
You roll your eyes. Fucker. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Your crazy football knockers are staring at me while I’m trying to sleep.
Keeley instantly responds with three angel emojis. I’m watching over you like a fucking guardian angel!
There’s a pause, then she texts, don’t know what Roy is. maybe the devil.
You snort at that. Roy Kent? Grump with a heart of gold? You don’t think so.
You close your text thread with Keeley and open the one with Jamie.
Nice football sheets, you write. Maybe we should get some for our room.
Jamie responds way too fast with an Amazon link and and an x. You smile then flip your phone over on the nightstand so you can get some good sleep, with Jamie’s guardian angels staring down at you.
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madlori · 6 months ago
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I'm asking this to you because you're the only person I know who's been around fandoms for so long — do you find this shipping-situation weird? I've been in many fandoms but I've never really seen this insistence on there being only one acceptable ship for a character and encouraging the idea that anything other than the norm is almost sacrilegious. Almost every big fandom over the years have had multiple conflicting pairings, take for example, Marvel. Even works of media that have a canon romantic pairing have had fans who ship others with the leads (that was what shipping was tbh) and no one has ever shown up to their doorsteps with pitchforks in hand, at least not that I'm aware of. So I guess I'd really like your opinion on why you think this is happening now? Have things always been this way, just not in plain sight? Is this just the new fandom culture that is developing now with the influx of younger people? Or is this fandom an aberration where a group of people are so used to being the majority that they simply aren't taking well to things not going their way?
I've been thinking about this today, and I'm still not sure what I think.
I've been in fandoms with a hugely dominant ship before. I've been in fandoms that had ship wars. I've been in fandoms with a lot of peacefully co-existing ships. I'm not sure this fandom is really all that different. To answer your first question, no, I don't find it all that weird. In fact I sort of expected it.
Let me tell you a story about the Brokeback Mountain fandom, which managed to have a ship war despite having really only one ship, the canon ship. So BBM fic fell into several broad categories, the biggest of which were fix-the-ending/canon divergence fics and the straight-up AU fics (I wrote one of each, lol). Post-canon fics weren't as common, because you had to deal with one half of the canon pairing being...well, dead.
There was a post-canon fic that gained a lot of fans...and when I say "fic" that's really an understatement. It was a SAGA, and I don't use that term lightly. It was a series of like...6 or 7 epic 100K+ word fics and it was over a million words total. The author would put out more than one 5K chapters per DAY. I'm still in awe of this woman's output. But it was the content that created the issue.
(Brief recap for those who have not seen BBM - two ranch hands in the 1960s, Ennis (Heath Ledger) and Jack (Jake Gyllenhaal) spend a season herding sheep together, have sex, form a bond, then separate to go about their expected hetero lives but get together for fishing trips every year or so to have sex and spend time together. Jack wants more, Ennis is terrified. Both marry and have families. Eventually Jack dies in what is implied to be a gay-bashing but who knows, and Ennis makes his peace with the love he'd felt for him)
The saga picked up a couple of years after the film's events. Ennis decides to tentatively explore what being queer means, goes to Laramie, finds a gay bar, and very cautiously enters. Through a Series of Events he gets mixed up in an assault there and befriends a local sheriff's deputy, who is also gay. They begin a relationship.
Now, this series was COMPLEX. A huge cast of characters, a long and thorough evolution of this relationship, a lot of angst over Jack's memory, and it really worked for a LOT of readers. The new love interest she created was a really great character.
For others...it did not work and they hated it.
The animosity between fans who loved this saga and those that did not grew pretty heated. This was like '05 so there was no twitter or tumblr, this was all on LJ and dedicated fandom forums (some of which banned discussion of this fic for this reason), but there was doxxing and namecalling and real vitriol.
I guess my point in all this is that when there's strong feelings, some fans will find a way to be horrible to each other.
I was in the Sherlock fandom, another fandom 98% dominated by one ship. There were other ships, but somehow they seemed to co-exist mostly peacefully barring some snide remarks and rude comments (I could be wrong about this, if you asked someone who shipped a non-Johnlock ship they might have a different answer). No, the insanity in the Sherlock fandom was not ship-war-related.
I was also in the Criminal Minds fandom, which has a whole bunch of disparate ships and no ship wars that I can recall.
Then there are other fandoms, like Avatar, with TERRIBLE ship wars that are still going on.
I don't think the situation in 9-1-1 is as unique or different from other fandom wanks as has sometimes been asserted. I think terrible fandom wars are sort of inevitable, whether they're ship related or not. But for what it's worth, here are some of my thoughts on what's going on here.
A loooooong time (5.5 seasons) with one very dominant non-canonical queer ship. No other ship really ever approached the level of saturation or devotion of Buddie.
A pervasive belief that this ship might possibly become canon. That's a feature a lot of other ships do not have.
A lack of intense devotion to any of the other love interests. BuckTaylor was never a challenger to Buddie. Neither was Eddie and Shannon, or anybody else. It's hard to fight when there's no worthy challenger.
But now? BuckTommy is not only canon, but it has a lot of fans. It's a threat. And it's not only a threat in a feelings kind of way (as in, people like a thing that is not the thing I like and it makes me upset) but there's a perception that it's an ACTUAL threat, as in if people like this ship and promote it, it could cause it to become a permanent relationship (the degree to which fan response actually affects how the show unfolds is...debatable).
I do not personally think this is the case, but some fans strongly believe that Buddie could still happen if it weren't for BuckTommy. So if you're still wanting Buddie and believe it will or could happen, the existence of an alternate love interest represents a direct obstacle to that happening. That's a heck of an incentive to hate that competing ship. I get it.
That...might be a somewhat unique situation. There's a fight now because there's a challenger who might actually stand a chance.
This goes along with what we saw in the immediate aftermath of 7x04. I read someone else say (apologies, I don't know who it was, feel free to @ me if it was you and I'll credit you) that the early post-7x04 enthusiasm and acceptance of Tommy reflected the belief that he was temporary. A lot of folks thought it was just a way for Buck to get with Eddie, like, very soon after that. But the more time went by, the clearer it became that this was not the plan or the intention. So the mood soured for those who were still pulling for Buddie.
Other fandoms I've been in with a hugely dominant ship...Sherlock and X-Files are the two that spring immediately to mind...there was never a challenger with any legs. X-Files fandom wank was between the ship and the...lack of ship, shall we say. But a concrete, tangible "opponent" makes a fight so much more visceral, doesn't it?
I do think there's been a fandom shift towards needing ships to be canon that I don't really get, but it's there. There's been a lot written about fandom culture in the last ten years, the breakdown of boundaries between fans and creators, the access to those creators, a sense of ownership/entitlement, purity culture, obsession with shipping "correctly" (which leads into wanting things to be canon for the validation)...these are all newish features. So pile that on top of 9-1-1 having a longtime single ship that's legitimately threatened for the first time in its existence by a competing canon ship and it's kind of a powderkeg.
No wonder it's caught on fire.
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radiant-reid · 2 years ago
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sweetness! i’ve got the episode “derek” & i got to thinking when the figment of his father says “there’s a moment when you realize you love a woman & the moment you realize you’re gonna marry her” & was curious, what do you think those moments are for spencer? & bonus (if you’d be down to write it obviously) the same concept but vice versa? like when the “i <3 spencer” switch flipped & knew they’d be life partners? 🫶🏻
aw this makes me sad but in a good way. also i only did spencer's because i feel like they vary by person, hope that's okay
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When he knows he loves you
"What do you mean you've never had frozen yogurt!?" You ask Spencer in total shock.
You've been playing what's become a regular back-and-forth game of confessions on those increasingly frequent occasions when you can't sleep. The BAU, or more specifically, the east-west time zone difference, wreaks havoc with your sleep schedules. Tonight, the sleepover is at his place.
Spencer's not complaining. Not being able to sleep isn't as bad when he has someone to talk to and doesn't have to stare at the walls and think about the case.
"Never." He laughs a little at your shocked reaction. "The germs on the little spoons put me off."
"You're missing out." You inform him, getting up from where you've been laying in bed and holding hands.
He frowns, sitting up and watching you walk around his bedroom like you know where everything is. You practically do. "What are you doing?" He inquires.
"It's what we're doing." You say, turning to look back at him after you open his bedroom door. He's still frowning. "Going to get frozen yogurt."
He stands up and follows you, still unsure. "You're serious?"
"Completely." You assure him, grabbing your keys and slipping your shoes on. "And I'll make yours for you."
You hover by the door on your phone, figuring out where the nearest shop is, he presumes while he slips his shoes on. "Should we at least get changed?" He asks, looking in the mirror by the door at his messy hair and pajamas.
"There's no time." You announce. "You cannot go an extra ten minutes not having had frozen yogurt."
Spencer holds the door open for you, reaching for your hand before turning back to lock it. "You're crazy, you know?"
You nod. "That's why you like me."
He smiles the entire car ride, head against the leather headrest as he asks you what toppings are best, and you tell him about all the good memories of getting frozen yogurt with your friends and family.
The looks you get are odd. Being the only customers in the store, your loud giggling doesn't go unnoticed by the bored cashier who's probably wishing they were somewhere else.
"Okay, what do you think?" You ask once you're back in the car, parked on the side of the road.
He hears the excitement in your voice, how you anxiously hold your cup and anticipate his reaction. Dramatically, he tries it, scooping ice cream, toppings, and sauce at the same time, and taste tests it like he's a judge on Masterchef.
"Good." His judgment comes.
You scoff. Your face shows pure joy, a wide grin, and the sparkling eyes he adores. "Spencer, just good? Come on, don't you know a million words?"
"Marvelous, delectable, exquisite." He offers, returning your smirk.
"Much better." You approve, sticking your spoon out to try some of his. He gasps, pulling it away. "You have to share. That's the rules of frozen yogurt."
He relents, holding it out for you to take some, and taking some of yours in exchange. "Wow, I'm so thankful I didn't let you pick for me." He teases you once he's tried what you like.
You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully. "You're so mean."
"Sorry, sorry." He apologizes, leaning forward to kiss you to make up for it. You kiss him back, making out with him like you're fifteen again, but he pulls back before it can get too heavy. "You've got to brush your teeth first."
You giggle at him. "Alright, we have to get home then because that's the plan for the rest of the night." You say, winking at him.
Spencer avoids choking on his ice cream at the proposition. "I mean, you're in charge, so I have to do whatever you say."
You grin at him, turning the car on. "I like this color on you." You say, and you're not just talking about the underlying sexual remarks. It's the way he's almost carefree with you, a side of him only you get to see.
You squeeze in conversation on the drive, but it's more eating than joking. He looks over at you while you drive back through the city, the warm summer wind in your hair, some frozen yogurt on your upper lip while you laugh at him. You're the first person to do that genuinely and so much.
It's how you inspire him to be who he wants to be. After being stuck in a box of seriousness for so long, he can just have fun and be a young adult for once. That's what he loves about you. And it hits him just like that, all at once, but in a way that's not overwhelming.
"Just take a picture." You joke, noticing his eyes transfixed on you. "Or you'll get more on your shirt."
He hadn't realized he'd missed his mouth until you point it out. "Just keep your eyes on the road." He quips.
"Can't help it." You tell him. "You're too perfect and really pretty."
He's even cuter when he blushes, and that's what you achieve with your compliment. "I think you're perfect." He replies quietly.
When he knows he wants to marry you
He's a little bit nervous about introducing you to his mom, wanting to make sure she's having a good day before he takes a very important step in your relationship.
He knows it has to go well. He needs his mom's approval, and it will kill him if he doesn't get it because of how much he loves you.
It seems like fate is working in his favor because you're in Las Vegas for a case, and Hotch agrees the team can have the night to blow off some steam.
For you, that means going to meet his mom. You can tell Spencer's freaking out about it on the way, gripping the steering wheel too tightly.
"Baby, it'll be okay." You assure him, squeezing his hand.
He's not sure why you're doing the comforting, but he's glad one of you is calm. That's the way it's often been with his overthinking nature.
"I know." He agrees. "I just hope she's having a good day."
You know about his past by how after one nightmare he had about it. "Either way, we'll be fine."
You distract him with a different conversation after that, playing with his hair between the headrest. When you get to his mom's facility, his phone rings almost as soon as you walk in the door hand-in-hand.
"It's Hotch." He announces, reading the caller ID. He knows your boss wouldn't be calling without a reason, and that means he has to pick up. "Just wait here and I'll be back in a minute." He instructs you, nodding to a bench in the reception area.
You don't, he realizes, when he comes back in after answering Hotch's questions about the case, and he anxiously walks through the facility to find you and his mom talking like you've known each other for years.
"Hey." You notice him, shuffling over so he can sit next to you.
He hugs his mom first, whispering about how much he's missed her. She shoots him a look that he knows means she approves, that she's impressed even before sitting next to you.
You run your hand over his back comfortingly. "Your mom was just telling me about baby Spencer." You fill him in.
That's enough to do it for him, knowing that in the five minutes he's been away, you've managed to make a connection with his mom without him being there. He's talked about how important she is, but he really can't believe you care so much that you put that over any anxiety you had about meeting his mom. It hits him then that it shouldn't be such a surprise: you would put his worries in front of him a million times. He sees you going extra steps for him all the time, and he's still wowed by how big your heart is.
But he has to play those big feelings off quickly. "Oh no." He groans playfully. "That means the photo albums are about to come out."
"Come on." You encourage him. "I bet you were so cute."
"He was." Diana agrees.
You hold his chin, grinning at him. "He still is."
It's a while after sharing childhood stories and memories that you excuse yourself to use the restroom, and he's left with his mom for the first time on that visit.
He doesn't bother asking her what she thinks. That answer is clear from her persistent smile. "You have to talk me down." He says. "Because I'm about to run off to a wedding chapel and marry her right now."
"While I think she deserves more than a tacky strip wedding, I'm going to be there." She assures him. "And this is everything I've ever wanted for you."
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kinardsevan · 13 days ago
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I find the writing of 806 absolutely wildly awful. First, we have a date that is completely antithetical to what we've been shown a week before; we had an established couple who takes care of each other like it's the most natural thing in the world and evidently spends a lot of time together, we have Tommy 100% integrated in Buck's everyday life both on their own and with the 118 (the hospital scene, the birthday party for Chris) and all of a sudden we get Buck bumbling over a hot girl who doesn't say he's on a date (100% OOC) and who doesn't even know Tommy's gay and not bi. Second idiotic idea, Buck's answering yes to Josh's questions which are evidently things you would only say yes to if you loved someone (you don't put someone's happiness above yours if you're casually dating) and then randomly regurgitating that awkward speech instead of a very simple ' I love you' which he's had no trouble using before with other people. It just DOES NOT MAKE SENSE.
i feel like when y’all send me these messages, you’re expecting the long-winded responses at this point (at least I hope so 😂😂). EIther way, you’re about to get one lolololol.
I won’t disagree with you on the writing entirely. I don’t hate it as much as others do, mostly because I feel like I ~kindof understand what they were going for, but it wasn’t perfect by any measure. It left a lot to be desired, and I think what they were doing could’ve been achieved more effectively in other ways.
I also don’t think you’re wrong about how it feels antithetical, especially when we have Buck suggesting to Eddie in 705 that Tommy is gay, and we’re supposed to believe these two are spending all their spare time together, but are apparently not having real conversations during all that time. To that end, I can’t solve that issue for the writers. However, there are parts of your argument that I have counters to. 
For one thing, I don’t think we can knock the fact that even being in a committed relationship doesn’t stop the best of us from stumbling over ourselves when we see someone we’re attracted to. People get so upset about how Buck acts in this scene that they fail to appreciate the major points that I actually enjoy about it: Buck yes, looks, (and is obvious about it), but he apologizes to his boyfriend about it in a way that makes it clear that he’s not outwardly interested in the women. Tommy also tells him that it’s okay (and we know that there’s a deleted line from this scene where he mentions finding one of the waiters good looking). To that end, we get the distinction that while these two don’t have an interest in stepping out on each other, they’re not blind. 
People also get upset about the lack of Buck’s distinction that he’s on a date. And while there are a million different reasons to complain about it (or explain it away), I’m gonna go with the obvious answer of, he doesn’t owe some random woman in an italian eatery his personal life situation, especially in a place where he may not feel ready to express exactly how he defines himself. There’s a massive difference between accepting things about yourself and actually dignifying it out loud, and the fandom has been so quick to assume one requires the other. Buck knows he’s bisexual; he even knows his feelings for Tommy are deep. That doesn’t necessarily have to mean he’s put a label on who he is. Just speaking from personal experience on reaching a point where I’m comfortably labeling myself as queer,… I even struggle with that. Because people throw around all of these terms (bi, queer, pan, etc.), and it creates this pressure to say exactly what you are, which I don’t think is fair to real people, let alone a fictional character. Some might say his decision to not dignify it verbally suggests fear to, but I don’t think that’s the issue. 
Further, I think the issue of “he doesn’t know Tommy’s gay”… I don’t think that’s the intention with the question. When watching it back, first of all, you have to remember from a writing standpoint, they have to have an entry for how Tommy and Abby were (previously) inclined. Moreover, asking Tommy if he’s ever been with a woman is not the same as asking him if he’s gay. Those are two entirely different questions. I can literally cite from a book to you that I own (Guilded Razors by Sam Lansky) which directly discusses being involved with women even though he knew he was gay. Evan first says that he notices Tommy didn’t look at the women when he did. I imagine that trying to figure out how fluid he is in his own mindset towards both sexes makes it confusing to understand someone who is strictly straight or gay. I can’t conceptualize of it and I’ve known personally that I liked both since I was in middle school. So I don’t think it’s ridiculous for him to ask his boyfriend (who he later will distinguish as someone he’s extremely comfortable with, and would be comfortable asking those kinds of questions to) about his attraction (or lack thereof) to women. I also think it has more to do with the follow-up question (“have you ever been with a woman”). Sometimes we ask questions that we already have the answer to just so we can get to the follow-up. When you intersect that with the “How do we bring Abby in to the conversation” of it all, it makes sense. 
Second, I totally agree that Evan answering those questions points to him being in love with Tommy. When I wrote up my psychology breakdown of the break-up, I referenced two things which tell us they’re in love with one another. 
-The entire “we don’t have to go that far” exchange with Josh. I think there’s a lot to be said about the fact that with Evan still figuring himself out, maybe it’s hard for him to dignify being in love with Tommy verbally. I also think that when you’re an adult and you get into serious relationships like this, there’s a period of time where you’re in love with them but you haven’t put a label on it. 
-“If I were move in with you, you won’t mean to, you wouldn’t plan for it, but you’d end up breaking my heart. And I don’t think that I could deal with that.” THIS ENTIRE FUCKING LINE MY GOD. (Just rip my heart out LFJr.) 
However, I think your argument about the fact that he skips over the “I love you” and straight to “move in with me” negates some serious engagement with the source material. First of all, we have an acknowledgment that Tommy’s clearly responding from a place of trauma. He’s responding from a place of “I love you more and then lose you; better to lose you here and now by my own hand”. From Buck’s side, we’ve seen him struggle with being in love. He was in love with Abby and never got to tell her, and then was strung along for months until he finally ended things in a letter to her. He was left by Ali when she couldn’t deal with his “lifestyle” (job). Love may not have entered the equation there, but he was clearly serious about her. Taylor was messy for him, but he clearly felt deeply for her, and even that blew up in his face. There are competing schools of thought on whether he truly loved her or not, but at the end of the day, that relationship fell apart due to issues with trust. Natalia wasn’t around long enough for him to dignify anything towards her. 
And then there’s the mess with his parents. We’ve never had this acknowledged, but I struggle to believe that Evan grew up in a house where “I love you” was actually said out loud very much (if at all). Based on how absent we know Phillip and Margaret were (and are to some degree still), I feel like they probably lived by the attitude of “we may not have always said it, but we always felt it”….which isn’t really good enough as a parent. Your kids need to hear you say it, and they need to know it’s okay to say it back. When you don’t have that foundation, it’s hard to put those feelings into words towards others, even if you do feel it, because they might burn you. Evan has been burned, and even though we don’t know a lot of his backstory, we know Tommy has too. So while you argue that he’s used those three words towards others in the past, I counter with, did it feel this real? Did stand to lose as much? Because I don’t really view the relationship as Tommy being more in it than Evan is. I think we’re kind-of getting that “grew up in the same house but turned out different” trope.  We see Tommy as someone who wants to take care of the person he loves because he hasn’t had that before, while Buck fumbles his way through wondering if it’s okay to do those things because no one has really shown him how. There’s also been commentary on the fact that he asked Tommy to move in instead of saying “I love you” because this entire relationship has been grand gestures. I think there’s something dignifying in that choice. He’s telling Tommy he sees a future with him. He talks about things like marriage, but from Tommy’s end it reads as out of left field from someone who’s still figuring out who they are in their sexuality. I think (after watching the scene back), that Evan doesn’t necessarily feel that way about himself, but the same way he railroads Tommy with the starry-eyed future, Tommy kind-of does the same thing back to him with the breakup. It’s very…. “I pushed you five steps in the wrong direction and now you’re pushing me ten steps back” (for lack of a better metaphor). And I know people argue about the fact that this entire relationship has been so key with communication from day one, but those forms of communication have never required the two of them to get down into their traumas with one another. It’s really fucking easy to have day-to-day conversations with people that stay on the surface and just keep powering through. Go back to 710 and notice how we don’t go deep into the daddy issues. They both touch on them, and then Evan changes the subject and Tommy goes with him on it. I don’t think it’s unreasonable at six months in to not have done a deep dive on major trauma. You can skate around it if it’s not something you’re ready to talk about. It’s one of my reasons for why these two will ultimately be back together in 8b, because at some point you have to flesh out the unfinished business of it all (ala Wyatt and Judd when Judd’s leg was broken). Now, I don’t know if that happens the involvement of a serial killer, or a truck/jeep/helicopter accident, or trapped in a burning building… I just know that at some point, it has to come to fruition. TM enjoys these kinds of standoffs too much to not have a plan for these two to end up in one. 
That all said, I’ve said before, the general audience doesn’t have a psychology degree or years of trauma counseliing under their belt. They’re not going to look at these two and read it the same way I can. TM probably doesn’t even realize the way he’s writing it is very direct into psychological motives 😂
But, just to cover my own skin… I could always be wrong. One of my very favorite people has a completely different theory on how b/t will be handled, and we agree to disagree 😂😂😂. as I’ve said to him “the best part of this entire scenario is that one of us eventually has to be wrong”. 
(circling back to your “simple i love you” just one last time as I looked at it again…. it feels siimple to us as an audience. however, verbalizing that shit out loud when you fear rejection and abandonment is an entirely different story. we know they had abandonment on the brain for Buck going into the midseason finale, and this obviously would’ve played right into it. So in what world are you going to expect him to give up “I love you” when he’s about to be broken up with. That would’ve been unnecessarily cruel.) 
My last little addition, to circle back to other points I’ve made… there’s a give and take in this relationship that we need (or at least deserve) to see. Personally, I feel like Buck will be the first one to say “I love you”, but my preference would be that Tommy does. It’s the whole issue of stepping beyond the fear for me that makes me feel that way.
By correlation, I feel like Buck has to give up the loft. He asks Tommy to move in, but we’ve had many discussions about the fact that Tommy has a house with a car lift and a muay thai set up. those are not things that would translate well into a loft. Having that trade-off would show a meeting in the middle on things that they both hold close to the vest. Tommy allowing himself to love and be loved would be a major point for him, while Evan giving up the loft would suggest that he’s not just in things for the short-term, because he can also give things up for Tommy. (also, the loft is very bachelor-esque, and these two are not bachelors when they’re with each other so….) 
sorry not sorry. you’re welcome for my rambles lol
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