#but after watching the movie and walking away with more questions than answers (in regards to everything)

[gumnut-logic]

Lego Volcano (Part 6)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Lego Volcano - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

I wrote more :D And this was fun :D

Still @idontknowreallywhy, @sofasurf @womble1 and @sailing-on-a-puddle and other wonderful Thunderfam peeps’ fault :D

Extra special thanks to @onereyofstarlight for actually writing a few small bits of this as I fell out of my knowledge zone and needed serious help, and also for Kiwi advice regarding Alex - gotta help an Aussie speak Kiwi because I miss lots of things. We all speak English, but differently :D Couldn't do this without you.

All the hugs to those who commented and reblogged yesterday's chapter. You guys keep Alex alive :D

This little fic is now nearly 10,000 words long, like 9,950+

M/M and full of fluff still.

I hope you enjoy this bit :D

-o-o-o-

o-o-o-

Scott woke groggy and hot.

It was to be expected. Apparently he was sick. Damnit. Anger and frustration flared in his belly and most of the groggy part of waking up was washed away.

A tickle in his aching throat had him swallowing hard.

He opened his eyes to the infirmary. He sighed. Grandma and Virgil were going to be intolerable.

His throat tickled again and he shifted on the bed, looking for the expected cup of water. Sure enough, there it was on his bedside table. Virgil was wonderfully predictable at times.

He reached out and his body creaked as he sat up, but the cool water was a balm on his throat and worth every movement.

His tablet was sitting beside the water and he grabbed at it eagerly. He needed to reply to Jack, their lawyer, regarding the latest suit from Fischler. Jack quite enjoyed tossing Fischler’s lawyers around the courtroom, but Scott would prefer a quick end to the latest shenanigans, both he and Jack had better things to do.

His tablet lit up…in green. Oh, damn.

John has restricted your access. Play a computer game, read a book, or watch a movie. International Rescue and Tracy Industries are all being expertly handled. Carly has her instructions. John and I have your back. Relax, Scooter.

Scott let air out between his teeth.

PS: Please look after Alex for me.

Huh? Scott frowned. But as if to answer his unspoken question, a snuffle alerted him to the fact there was someone else in the room.

The tablet landed on the sheets as he realised Alex Sweetapple was sleeping in the chair beside his bed. The lanky engineer was sprawled haphazardly across the furniture, blond hair sticking out in all directions.

Virgil had obviously snuck in at some point as there was a pillow in the man’s lap.

The thought of Virgil sobered him. His brother had been so sick, and now Scott was off rota…damn. He shifted on the bed, frustrated.

Alex muttered something, curled around the pillow and onto his side, now looking even more uncomfortable than before.

He snorted in his sleep.

Scott eyed the man. He couldn’t ask for a better employee, but he was a walking hazard, mostly to himself and apparently he was hazardous in his sleep as well.

And Virgil loved him.

The thought brought a small smile to Scott’s face. It was so good to see Virgil so happy. Alex was smart, goofball or no, and seemed to be able to match his brother on engineer topics - the two of them could babble excitedly for hours.

He was also very loyal. Tia’s reports were shining, Alex was definitely an asset, he worked hard.

The worship in his eyes was occasionally hard to handle. ‘Mr Tracy’ wasn’t sure he could live up to the reverence accorded him.

But Virgil loved Alex.

And that was enough.

He sighed again and let his gaze rest on the ceiling. The very worst part of being sick was the boredom.

His tablet bleeped.

He grabbed it.

A system of equations filled over half the screen.

Oh, so that is how it is, John? Going to distract me with math, are you?

But even as he thought it, the numbers started taking shape. He'd need a Jacobian matrix to approximate the first part of the solution, unless he applied an RK4 numerical method... knowing John, he'd need a justification showing the minimisation of error.

His lips curled up to one side. Okay, let’s do this.

-o-o-o-

Alex woke to humming.

He cracked open an eyelid to find he had shoved his face into a pillow at some point - explained the struggle to breathe.

His neck creaked as he moved and as his body came online, he realised he had fallen asleep on the wrong furniture again. Erica probably had photos.

Again.

The humming was interrupted by a dry cough, but after a moment started up again.

It sounded happy.

Alex unfolded and found himself in a hospital room? Wha-? But then his brain booted fully, supplying him with details of last night and Mr Tracy-

Mr Tracy!

Alex sat up straight and the chair teetered. A wobble, two feet on the ground and he managed to prevent himself from falling on his head, but it did all get the blood pumping and consciousness clear and functioning.

Mr Tracy was sitting up in bed and…writing on the bed sheets.

Wha-?

His boss had a black marker in his hand, had spread out the sheets on the bed and was methodically making notations.

While humming some triumphant overture, his voice cracking here and there, proving he was still the sick man Alex had caught early this morning.

What was he writing?

With yet another creak, Alex quietly pushed himself to his feet and every muscle complained. Wasn’t the first time he had slept awkwardly, wouldn’t be the last, but he was more concerned with the numbers Virgil’s brother was writing down…was that a Jacobian matrix?

His eyes danced over the somewhat smudged digits on the bed. Numbers and letters lined up in chains, reading them…omigod…

“That’s beautiful!”

The humming ended in a squawk. “Alex!” The ‘A’ in his name cracked and Mr Tracy sounded more like his youngest brother than himself as his voice skipped up an octave.

But Alex only had eyes for the work on the sheets. “How did you get such a perfect solution?”

“Wha-? Oh,” he cleared his throat again, “John likes to distract me with math.”

“I’d say he succeeded.”

Mr Tracy grunted and coughed again.

There was a smudge of black ink on his cheek.

The numbers were just amazing. “How did you get that solution?”

Mr Tracy’s eyes darted between Alex and the numbers on the sheets “You can read that?”

“God, yeah.”

He stared at Alex a moment longer before pointing out a particular section. “John thought he could catch me here. The variable could easily be switched out and replaced with a static whole number - it would solve it perfectly, but a bit on the boring side. If you input an exponential function here, however, it creates a whole array of possibilities.”

Alex focussed on the equations. Whole number, yes, he could see that, the answer was clear. But if he threw in the function…the numbers just danced. “That’s so elegant. The pattern is perfect.”

“Yeah.” Scott was grinning.

Alex looked up to see those tired bruised eyes lighting up.

John was apparently right.

Scott liked maths.

Now this was a language Alex could speak.

“What happens if you put in a polynomial?”

-o-o-o-

Virgil yawned. He really wasn’t up to it, but he had to do it. Much better than Scott killing himself.

Two would be landing momentarily, with a furious Gordon aboard, and he needed to help his brothers with post-situation protocol…and possibly talk Gordon down from something vicious…that John had probably already enacted…yeah, his brothers were chaos itself.

But their hearts were in the right place.

Earlier he had checked on his biggest brother and found both him and Alex asleep in the infirmary. Grandma had left firm instructions with John adding his own version of early morning events.

Fortunately, while Scott was still very warm, he was finally getting some rest. The bed readings provided some reassurance.

Alex was a gymnast in sleep as usual. The man could sleep anywhere in some of the most outlandish positions. It certainly wasn’t the first time Virgil had needed to dig up a pillow or picked up his boyfriend and haul him off to bed.

He was adorable when he was asleep.

Of course, mentioning this when Alex was awake brought on all the flushed embarrassment which had its own adorableness that always needed to be kissed away - any excuse, really.

So Virgil was smiling when he gently tucked the pillow under Alex’s head.

And the thought had him smiling right now.

But before Two landed and almost inevitably disturbed Scott, Virgil wanted to check on him.

To his surprise, as he approached the infirmary, laughter was echoing down the hall.

“He really thought that?”

“Yeah, to infinite decimals and beyond.”

That prompted more laughter which suddenly dissolved into coughing and had Virgil hurrying into the room.

Which was not the room he had left earlier.

The infirmary was draped in bedsheets, a cupboard left askew where they had originally been folded neatly. Now they were stuck up on the walls with surgical tape and draped over the curtain rails.

And covered in mathematical notation.

At the centre of the room sat Scott in bed scribbling with the black markers Virgil had left behind earlier in the hope that John would be able to trigger a math distraction.

Apparently, he had.

But he hadn’t thought his boyfriend would end up with black smudges all over his face and hands.

Because Alex was beside his brother, holding the bed sheet so Scott could write on it.

“I think we should cube this.” Alex pointed at a spot on the sheet. “It will look good.”

“Hmm, I think a factor of…seven will be prettier.”

Prettier?

“You could be right. It definitely needs to be an odd number. Even would be too regular.”

“Yeah.” Scott scribbled something. “What if we cube this and seven that. They’ll work nicely together.”

“Oh, I like that. Follow that one through.”

As Virgil watched, Scott jotted down several lines in his smooth precise hand. His tongue was sticking out the side of his mouth as his eyes darted back and forth, calculations bouncing in the blue.

Alex’s eyes were following the numbers and every now and again, he would make a suggestion or ask a short question…

“Oh, I see what you mean. The seventh iteration is just perfect.”

“The third isn’t that bad either. That’s why they work so well together.”

Virgil found himself grinning like a loon. He knew Alex could speak math. You didn’t get to do any engineering without math. But he had no idea he could speak at Scott level math. Hell, even John got lost sometimes at Scott level.

And to see the two of them so relaxed in each other’s presence…

“Virgil?” Scott was suddenly frowning at him. “You okay?”

“Virgil!” Alex dropped the sheet and hurried over. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I was helping Scott and then fell asleep and then…did you know Scott likes maths? Not just maths, but real maths? The fun stuff?” His boyfriend was positively vibrating.

Virgil couldn’t help but grin. He placed his hands on Alex’s arms. Seriously, the man was bouncing. “I’m fine. And yes, Scott likes math. I didn’t know you liked to play, though.”

“Oh, um, sometimes.” His eyes darted back to Scott for a moment. “Usually I stick to applied math, and I’m certainly not at Tracy level.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He leant up, kissed Alex gently on the cheek and whispered in his ear. “If you can keep up with Scooter here, you’re definitely up there.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Alex brushed his fingers across Virgil’s left temple.

He let his head drop against his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’m tired, but I’m fine.” He looked over at his brother. “I’m more concerned about Scott.”

But his big brother was peering at the sheets again, eyes wide. It was obvious he had thought of something.

The marker came down and scribbled another line.

“But then again, he’s resting and amused.” Virgil’s ears picked up the approach of Thunderbird Two. He looked up at Alex. “Keep him distracted a little longer?” Alex really did have dark eyes, Virgil could stare into them all day.

“Sure.”

Scott was muttering something about a polynomial.

“Thank you.” Thunderbird Two roared into land as Virgil leant up and kissed Alex, clinging just that moment longer before letting him go.

“Hey, Scooter, zero point nine to infinity still doesn’t equal one.”

“Virgil!” His brother’s outrage was echoed by Alex’s sudden ‘What?!”

Virgil just laughed as he left them to it.

Their discussion of his lunacy followed him down the hall.

-o-o-o-

TBC

[robindrake93]

I think I would like it if the past 30 years really were just a dream shared between Beetlejuice and Lydia and the movie was just a highlight all of their personal fears being (unintentionally) amplified by Beetlejuice’s powers.

[restlessmaknae]

trajectory [keeho]

Sometimes, people just fall apart to fall apart.

➳ Characters: Keeho x female!reader/you

➳ Genre: slice of life, real-life bittersweet, friends drifting away

➳ Words: 1.9k

➳ Warning: mention of losing a pet, stress, insecurities

➳ A/N: The story was inspired by this part in one of Keeho's lives. Also, thank you so much for you all you for supporting my works this year! Wishing each and every one of you a very happy, balanced and healthy New Year! 🥰

➳ P1Harmony taglist: @dat-town, @tranquilpetrichor, @laaylaazyy, @americanokisses, @kuleo26, @hyu-won, @wccycc, @sunooslover, @littlestartonightsposts, @koishua, @seungincore, @s00buwu

➳ Check out: my P1Harmony masterlist

“It’s me.”

The way Keeho shouted this exact sentence into the intercom had never changed. Year after year, time after time, that had always been his signature way of introducing himself. Let it be you or your parents who had picked up your apartment’s door phone, he had always announced his arrival casually and proudly - his tone indicating that he had been glad to enter your home.

You didn’t think that such a familiar sentence - a habit of his by that time - could prick at your skin like a needle pushing through the layers. At first, it didn’t seem to hurt, but then the pain hit out of the blue and all at once - like the waves crashing down on a shore at the beginning of an abrupt summer downpour.

“I’ll go downstairs. Stay there,” you forced the words out, your voice coming out raspy and feeble. You could hear the hesitation in the line - for you had usually let him in instead of going outside to meet him downstairs -, but you had to do it this way. You could feel it coming, and you didn’t want to attach such a conversation to the image of Keeho and you in your bedroom. It would be better if it was played out somewhere else. You had never contacted each other by saying that ‘you needed to talk’ before you would meet up, but now it was time, and you both knew the weight of the upcoming conversation.

“Okay. I’ll be here,” came the answer nevertheless, and you yanked your hand away from the intercom. You took in a deep breath, then told your parents that you would step outside for a bit before opening and closing the front door behind you.

You walked down the stairs instead of taking the elevator, prolonging the conversation as long as you could. As you took one step after another, flashbacks of your teenage years spent with Keeho swang round and round on the carousel of your memories: talking under the watching eyes of the moon, looking for shooting stars on humid summer nights during summer camps that resulted in more mosquito bites than actual shooting stars; having Disney movie marathons on the couch in your flat that was so worn-out by now that a new one was already on its way; checking out so-called Instagram-worthy places with Keeho, roaming around Seoul only to get scared by a passing black cat in the dark, have the worst latte of your life or end up with a sprained ankle on Keeho’s part when he had slipped on a cobblestone; attempting to make viral TikTok recipes only to end up with inedible masses of questionably-looking food and turning Keeho’s family’s kitchen into a warzone; recording TikTok challenges to post onto his account, the one that he said would go viral one day and you wouldn’t need to have a 9-5, you could work for him.

As you turned a corner and passed another floor, brief flashes of tears raining down on notebook pages, talking through sleepless nights worrying about your senior exams, sobs over the passing of your beloved pet and pep talks following outbursts of teenage awkwardness regarding your teenage body and insecurities came to mind; ones that you would have liked to forget, but still cherished so much because they proved you why you were best friends.

Best friends. The word felt like a flicker of light in the darkness now when it had been a huge torch lighting up your life for so long. Your friendship with Keeho had gone through many ups and downs, but the care and empathy you had towards each other had never changed, and that’s why you wanted to talk; because you didn’t want to leave him hanging, you wanted to talk about how you were doing now, and whether you had a future together anymore.

The truth is, when one becomes friends with someone, they don’t think about the end. They might even find it impossible that it could ever end. You had been the same. When you had been going to school together, seeing each other almost everyday, and planning your future in senior year, probably closer than you had ever been before, the thought that it might fade into bittersweet memories one day had never crossed your mind. Yet, here you were, barely speaking, barely catching up, barely seeing each other.

Even though you had gone to different cities to study after high school, you had made it work in the beginning. You had gone back to your hometown at the same time, you had planned trips to visit the other in their uni’s city, and you had talked as if nothing had happened. Yet, semesters went by, and the conversations died down slowly like a candle burning down, the visits back home seemed to never work out at the same time, and even if you talked, it seemed like you had nothing to say to each other, as if you had become strangers in each other’s life. The worst was that there had been nothing grande about it, there had been no big fight, no big misunderstanding, no big secrets, it just all… faded.

Just like the colours of the sky faded into a messy deep-blue when you stepped outside of the apartment complex, and came face-to-face with Keeho. He tried with a smile, but you could tell that it wasn’t genuine.

“Hi!”

“Hi!”

Awkward. Unfamiliar. Tense. Everything you had been feeling for some time now came crashing down on you now that you were face-to-face with him. As if the physical body of his made his existence and his footprint in your life more prominent. More painful. More unbearable.

With a heavy sigh, you suggested going to the nearby playground where you had frequently sat on the swings, talking about everything that came to your mind. Now, nothing seemed right, nothing seemed fitting for this occasion.

“I… I don’t know how to start,” you blurted out feebly, playing with your fingers mindlessly just so you could take your mind off the weight on your chest.

“Then, don’t,” came the answer immediately, but Keeho cleared his throat and made an addition before you could question his words. “I mean, we can absolutely just sit here and wait until you feel ready.”

You weren’t sure that you could ever be ready for such a conversation. You knew that Keeho always appreciated your honesty, and wanted you to tell him if you thought he took his jokes too far or he made a hurtful comment or anything of the sort, but you still felt like you were the bad guy now for wanting to bring it up, for wanting to talk about it. On the other hand, the facts spoke for themselves, the lack of messages, the lack of conversations, the lack of hang-outs…

“I just… I don’t know how to describe it, but I think you feel it, too,” you started, truly hoping that it was true, that he felt the same way. He had to, you told yourself. “We’re different and our friendship is different, and everything is different… and I’m not sure I feel as comfortable around you as before. Or that we have things to talk about.”

Your voice was resigned instead of accusing for you didn’t want to start a fight, you didn’t want to start a war. You had too much of a history to accuse him of something that he probably did unintentionally, and he wasn’t at fault. It wasn’t him who made you feel uncomfortable, it was the situation itself. It was that pang in your chest, that twist inside your stomach when you looked at the pictures of you and Keeho on your bedroom shelf, it was that deep, deep feeling inside that it wasn’t the same anymore, and you missed what you had, but you weren’t sure that you could ever get it back.

“You know what I mean, right?”

You looked at him for the first time since the start of your conversation, and saw something flash across his eyes at your question. Something familiar, something close, something deeply connected to a part of you. Keeho looked at you like that when he was about to say something that would put your mind at ease, and when there was a twitch in the corner of his lips, you knew that he was about to speak his mind.

“Yeah, I get you. I think we’re having such different experiences and we live away from each other, we have different friend groups, and it’s just, as you’ve mentioned, different,” he mentioned just as calmly as you had. Neither of you wanted to hurt the other or accuse the other. You were having a conversation, not an argument. “Like Taylor Swift said, everything has changed,” he added as his lips began to curl upwards, and that… that was just so Keeho-like, you found yourself cracking a smile.

“That’s better,” he smiled back at you, fondly and affectionately, and the years of your friendship was squashed into this smile, one that you would never question was genuine. “I don’t want you to feel bad about it. I feel the same way, and I think friendships have their own trajectory. They begin, they soar and they eventually come down. Sometimes… there’s no reason for that, it just happens.”

Seen. Heard. Understood. Despite the jokester he was, Keeho was also very wise, and he handled problems and concerns maturely. For that reason, you should have known that he would understand you, but somehow, you didn’t want to dare that he would, or maybe you wanted him to disagree, to see it differently… so that you could save the friendship, but as he had said, maybe your friendship was coming down to the ground like an air-balloon, and it would never take off again. Or maybe it would, but right now, it just didn’t seem right.

“I had a feeling you wanted to talk about this, and truthfully, I was thinking of bringing it up too, but it just never came to it. So thank you for speaking up about it,” Keeho broke the momentary silence that fell upon the two of you as you were pondering and pondering. You smiled at him, reminiscing about him, about the past, present and the future, and your voice was confident and genuine when you said:

“Me too. Thank you for everything.”

As you sat there beside each other on the swings just like you used to, you saw the old Keeho in him and felt like the old you in that moment. When he stood up to give you a hug while calling you by the nickname he had given you, you reciprocated it, bittersweet yet grateful. Grateful for the you that you had become because of him, grateful for the way he understood still, and grateful for the lesson he taught you that day.

Sometimes friends just fell apart to fall apart - as a part of their friendship’s trajectory, but that was just one of the many trajectories that lined their lives in the past, present and the future.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for P1Harmony or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[musingsofalovelymillenial]

Final thoughts before Dead Friend Forever Finale Part 7

Mr. Keng:  I think Keng, while a character I dislike and disgusts me, also intrigues me. Plost wise I think he is a character that shows how seemingly good people can also be horrible and the reality that those that hurt us are not always creepy monster people that most of the time they are nice looking. Keng is seemingly trying to get info regarding the money laundering but we are never given an answer whether he is a reporter or a secret cop and why he is trying to bring them down. Also while we know Tee’s uncle has his watch we never see his body it is heavily and definitely implied he is deceased however he could very well be alive and I am curious why only Jin hallucinates Keng. Everyone else sees the masked person or Non but Jin hallucinates Keng. Which I have a theory about. Overall Keng is trying to stop Tee’s uncle and “help” Non but all of that comes at price and shows that while people commit good deeds it does not mean they are not responsible for the darker things they do.  

Final thoughts:

I enjoyed this show and I am excited to see how it ends. I think it has the potential to let people down because it may not end how everyone wants it to end and hope they can deliver a satisfying finale ( you can’t please everyone) Now I have several theories for things that could happen.

Non is alive and in the woods. Maybe Por did not hallucinate him or even if he did it sure looked like someone purposely lifted that branch for him to run into. Now the question of would he be helping New or Phee?

Phee does not love Jin like he loves Non and if Non is alive it may be that he and Phee are in on it together. Someone had to leave evidence around the house like the paper about Tee’s uncle and the knife and also in the episode when Phee and Non are talking after Non is with Keng but before Jin sees them walk away Non ( according to the subtitles) says to Phee “our friends, you know I am not comfortable with those people” and then Phee and him walk away with Non’s arm around Phee’s shoulder  and when Phee is alone with Jin headed back to the house in the woods Phee looks off into the woods and then tells Jin after touching his shoulder and lacing their hands together that “our friends need our help”; he also later drops the axe outside the house. The framing of the scene between Jin and Phee feels nowhere near as intimate as when almost same exact scene with the same phrasing is said between Non and Phee. Also Phee is suspicious because of his guessing that New hung the wire or deleted the footage or even what went down between New and Top. Phee has information he should not have and he did get out of Jin a confession, something they have been trying to get since the starts. Not to mention the axe dropping and the woods scenes in general but also the framing of the scene between him and New with the murder board in the flashback. Phee is standing with his arms crossed looking very serious, probably the most serious look we get besides when his father told him to prepare for the worst. There is also an interesting dynamic in terms of conveying power because New is sitting down while Phee is standing and Phee physically takes up more space in the screen than New does. In this frame of New sitting and Phee standing it is what looks to be a combination of an over the hip shot and low angle shot which not only suggests a power imbalance between the two but is also indicative of potential conflict between the two who take up the shot. I think no matter what I will be suspicious of Phee and his motives until the finale ends.

White like I said is either going to die tragically or live to the end and maybe there will be a twist with him, I am not counting it out.

I do not think New will survive the finale either because if this leads back to punishment for those who have wronged Non, New does not escape that and often in many movie the person who divulged from the plan or as “given up” morally tends to die.

If non is really dead  I think Jin will be the final survivor. 

Questions I want answered: the hand with white and tee on the balcony, is mr keng and non 100% dead, why is Jin hallucinating Mr. Keng, was the land Tee’s dad talking about the land where the cult and Por’s family home is, does the Janta cult play a bigger role, did Por actually see something supernatural when they filmed with Non the very first time, why does New know about supposed herbs that the Janta cult uses unless it is a real cult but then did he google it or go there and asks ( I have questions about that), and finally why did White hallucinate not only being watched by the masked figure but also the rash?

My theory about Jin and Keng is that one either Jin had a secret crush on Keng, Keng assaulted Jin the way he did Non or Jin did hit Keng with the car and left him there to die not knowing that the mafia snatched him up alive so maybe in Jin’s mind he “killed” Keng.

Sorry it was a long post but I had a lot to say and I haven't been this excited for a finale episode in a long time. I look forward to seeing more fan theories and when it airs reactions to the finale!

[declanowo]

31 Days of Horror - Day 23 - Audition

23/10/23

Needles are one of my biggest fears. They have been for a while - it makes going to the doctors hell, when around every corner it feels like there is a needle waiting just for me. Yet, Audition is a film I had heard so much about, and it was deeply enticing to me. Every vague mention of this film, and its central "villain" Asami was a further draw, and so after spinning the wheel and seeing it pop up, I have finally decided that today is the day to try to watch. 

With its two hour runtime, Takashi Miike’s Audition is a long, and at times slow movie. That isn’t a bad thing, in fact, in this case I really loved that! It’s a slow burn that works perfectly, with the first two acts feeling like a romantic drama, with mere undertones of horror, until the final act is pure unadulterated horror. Honestly, there were points during this film when I forgot it was a horror movie - that first act is especially hypnotising into a sense of security. 

Instantly, I was hooked with the cold open. Although not a typical cold open to a horror movie, this sequence moved me close to tears, as we watch our protagonist’s (Shigeharu Aoyama) wife pass away, followed by his son walking in mere moments later. Everything about this pain feels authentic, and it is owed to Ryo Ishibashi’s performance. Instantly, we connect with this character, so when we flash forward seven years and he is encouraged to start dating, we root for him and his happiness. 

All three of our main characters are great, from the aforementioned Shigeharu and Asami, as well as Shigehiko Aoyama, who is Shigeharu’s son. The character is sweet and charming, although appears to have inherited a similar regard for women as his father. 

I guess now is a good time to move onto the theme of masculinity and misogyny, which I think runs through this film. It becomes more difficult to tell with older movies whether or not they are simply products of their time or if they are thematically relevant, but I feel regardless of intent, they are here. 

The titular audition shows this first main source of the misogyny. Here, we see women paraded around with the intent of gaining a role in a film, but instead they are in fact auditioning for the role of the boss's wife. Of course, this deception is something all too common to reality, where men will use their positions of power for sex from women who are simply looking for work. Asami brings this up herself during the third act; yet we see some ambiguity in the intentions of Shigeharu, as he searches for a lifelong partner, this adds some shading to his character, not to mention the fact he didn’t suggest the idea. However, this further links into the theme of masculinity - regardless of who suggested the audition, they did in fact hold it; both parties are guilty. Although, the editing of this sequence is comedic, as we watch the different “suitors” answer questions, their list of quirky personalities shining through. Constantly, we are positioned not to question our protagonist, we are placed to fear Asami instead, and while the validity of this may be true, holding the audition in the first place is ultimately the catalyst for the events that unfold. 

Ultimately, this leads into a romance that I found sweet to watch - I truly enjoyed seeing these two characters seemingly having a nice time, and falling in love. Their romance is shaded with secrets and mystery, and there is a focus on age which I believe feeds closer into the theme of power that comes with masculinity and position, as Shigeharu is stated to be a lot older than Asami in spite of his earlier statement he wanted to date someone “not too young”. Once again, regardless of his intent, this is his reality - he may dream later of an idyllic life, but he is searching for love in a manner that exercises his power that can only come as a result of him being a man. It tears me in two directions, and I think that watching the film at face value provides a desire to side with Shigeharu, and maybe we should - there is enough ambiguity within the film to agree with him, and I personally find both these characters to be so delightful and well acted that I want the best for both of them. Plainly put, this is just a single interpretation, with other ideas weaved inside. 

Asami is plagued by ambiguity - it is part of what makes her such an appealing character. Many sequences we see that shade in her backstory are in hallucinations, or otherwise lies that we piece together. Asami herself may not exist, she is a victim who ultimately is treated the same way over and over. Her life is cyclical, and honestly, her reaction, while extreme, makes sense. She is tired of meaning nothing to everyone she has loved, and finding another woman's picture in Shigeharu’s room is just a growth of this. She acts rashly, and the final sequence is a brutal juxtaposition to the rest of the film. 

Maybe the most harrowing part of the film is how badly we want the romance for both characters despite knowing both of their problems. Nothing could ever work, but it pains us to watch that reality unfold. In a sense, the torture sequence we end on is this haunting realisation that neither of them can ever date again, the romantic love they’re searching for is unattainable because of their own hangups. Both characters are so soft, yet their realities are so much darker, they are cold and broken people. 

After a single look at this film's poster, we know what the movie is building up to. Catharsis draws over us during the torture sequence, and the outcome places both characters even more broken - a lost foot and a snapped neck. Nobody can ever win, and punishment is dealt to those who have done wrong. For me, neither act felt good. We await this sequence the whole film, yet when it is over, we yearn for the daydream where everything was perfect, where everyone's past and true colours are ignored. We watch this sequence unfold in a cool blue, it allows us to fade away, it is divine and perfect, washed of the blemishes that reality carries. However, reality is sitting in the corner of the room, and when we return to the present gloomy lit nightmare unfolding, we are reminded of the reality that there is no escape from our true natures. 

Audition is so complex and fun to think about, that the needle sequences that I feared would haunt me are mere pricks in the back of my mind. Before ending off this discussion which I have very much enjoyed, I want to mention how much I loved the upbeat score of this film, the fun style of editing and how much the cinematography was played with - from the contrasting crampedness of the office to the open freedom of home, to the focus on a character as they witness an action, rather than the action itself. God this was great! 

10/10

[pastamansta]

Retooling an old write-up I did for some close friends upon completion of the Saw franchise. Enjoy!

The only Saw film that I haven't watched is "Spiral: From the Book of Saw" (2021), but after the 2017 "soft reboot" I wasn't in the mood to watch a film that intentionally tried to get away from the core of Saw, but we'll get there when we get there.

Starting at the start, we have "Saw" (2004) and it's incredible. Even after all this time, it's definitely worth the hype. I hardly have anything to say about it that hasn't been said before, but I do want to make obvious my support of James Wan. He's a Chinese-Malaysian-Australian horror director that loves what he does, and I don't see nearly enough support for him. Regardless of your opinions on the franchises in question, starting the Saw franchise, the Insidious franchise, and the Conjuring franchise means that you're doing something right and, as a side note, his best work is extremely underrated. If you've watch the Saw franchise, you might have asked yourself, at some point, why Billy the Puppet is a part of the series if he never really does anything. The answer is shockingly simple; James Wan wanted to make a horror movie about puppets more than he wanted to make Saw, but never thought he'd get the chance. That's why he didn't stick with the Saw franchise, he took the money he made from the first film's box office success and made his passion project; "Dead Silence" (2007), which is my personal favorite horror as of this writing. Schlocky, campy, creative fun that general audiences turned their noses up at. Go in blind, try it out, it's a LOT of fun.

When Wan exits, Darren Lynn Bousman enters, directing the next four films. All of his films ALMOST do what I want, but usually get held back in some regard. "Saw II" (2005) has to be the most disappointing failure, as Donnie Wahlberg is the exact kind of actor, who plays the exact kind of character, that this franchise needs to keep it alive. The problem being that he's placed in the only entry in this series that arguably just has a bad pitch. Ouch.

The "twist" of "Saw III" (2006) and "Saw IV" (2007) is that they take place at the same time, so it's hard to talk about one without the other and definitely hard to enjoy unless you watch them as a double-feature. It's obvious from the start that Bousman has realized that he doesn't want to this forever, so an air of finality permeates the films... that's final moments are uprooted to promise a return.

As if that wasn't awkward enough, the character of Amanda is perhaps one of the most interesting, and definitely the most mishandled, of the entire series. While Jigsaw is a methodical, philosophical lunatic, Amanda is emotional, irrational, and, yes, also a lunatic. In a moment that defines whether Amanda, Jigsaw's first apprentice, will truly pick up the mantle and be the next "Jigsaw Killer," she chains up a victim and leaves him to die in an empty room "because of his own choices," just like The Jigsaw Killer is supposed to do. As she turns to walk away her victim screams "You're no Jigsaw, BITCH!" in a scene that, apparently, most fans of the franchise love to clown on, but I find absolutely fantastic. In turn, she kills him, cementing that she really is no Jigsaw. What a setup! A franchise defined by an evil character being turned on its head by establishing an even more evil character! It's perhaps the most interesting turn the series could take. By the end of the fourth film, Amanda is a corpse, not to return in future entries. It is a massive mistake that the franchise never truly recovers from.

And then, there's "Saw V" (2008), the worst by far. David Hackl, the editor of all the previous films, gets put in the director's chair, but taken out of the editor's chair. The previous films, even if slow, even if written poorly, even if they were so far from what I was looking for, were still stylized like a Saw film deserves to be. The sound design, the color palette, and the "vibe" have been all but destroyed. The story's hardly worth mentioning; Jigsaw's second apprentice, Hoffman, is a bore to follow and, both in and out of universe, bad at his job. It feels as if the future of the franchise couldn't possibly look any darker...

Then, shockingly, the unexpected happens. "Saw VI" (2009) is the best sequel to the original film, and might even surpass the original in some aspects. For un-understandable reasons, the politically-charged hit-piece on the American healthcare system works beyond all logical reasoning, contains some of the most memorable performances in the franchise, and contains some of the best traps in the series. It works. It REALLY works. I have no idea how. It's like director, Kevin Greutert, who also previously worked as an editor on every Saw film prior, watched Hackl's entry and was so annoyed that this guy was going to give "editors-turned-directors" a bad name that he decided to make up for every one of his shortcomings.

But, this is sadly where history comes in to play. The Saw franchise had burned too many bridges at this point. Every Saw sequel was considered by the general audiences to be worse than the last, which isn't exactly wrong. This means that the sixth entry is the lowest-grossing Saw film to date, even if it's considered to be the second-highest reviewed, second only to the original. Then, to make matters worse, a new horror franchise rises, releasing the same weekend; Paranormal Activity. Its mere existence highlights one of the worst issues about the sequels to Saw. It forgot what made the original so enjoyable, and so lucrative to studios. The first Saw had a budget of just around $1.2M and brought in $104M before DVD sales. Now, just six entries in, the budget reaches a whopping $11M, only to bring in $68M. Who cares if Paranormal Activity was any good, it cost $250,000 to make and brought in $194M before DVD sales. Cheaper than Saw ever was, and more popular than Saw ever hoped to be.

But, you know, what's one to do? Saw had gotten pretty bad, but is there time to save it? Can this director save this franchise? Does this director want to save this franchise? Does it matter? If it's not making money, do we even try? If it's Halloween, MUST it be Saw? Can we do this forever?

These questions swarm "Saw 3D" (2010), or "Saw: The Final Chapter" (2010), or even just "Saw VII" (2010), to the point that anxiety-ridden indecision plagues even the name. In something resembling a meta-commentary, the plot has taken a harsh right turn and decided to tackle "Saw-mania" a few years too late, in a plot filled with copycats and mass panic and... the strangest twist in the series. Hoffman, the "bad at his job" second apprentice from the fifth film, is confronted by... Dr. Gordon, the victim from the very first Saw film... that was secretly the third apprentice the entire time? He kills Hoffman for being a bad apprentice and giving The Jigsaw Killer a bad name... with the help of two unknown, masked henchmen that, while crew members would confirm the identities of off-screen, were never even hinted at. Tying everything into the first film feels like a classic thing to do in a finale, but for the first time since the original film... I'm wondering what could possibly happen next. The air of finality, in the ONLY film in the franchise that EVERY marketed itself as the final entry... is one of the few entries without an air of finality!

Seven years later, with no returning directors or writers, "Jigsaw" (2017) decides to let us down, one last time. While every Saw film has to do a good bit of backtracking and retconning in order to justify itself, this film seems to delight in just rewriting everything. Why? Well, my primary theory is one that seems obvious if you do any research. Dr. Gordon is played by Cary Elwes, who notoriously... doesn't like Saw. Oops. A story that could've been about actively attempting to explain how Dr. Gordon became an apprentice is retooled to explain how... some random guy who you just met was actually the first Saw apprentice the whole time despite never showing up or doing anything. It's also boring and looks bad. This would be the worst mainline Saw film, but it seems as if everyone involved and everyone who watched it, barely considers this a Saw film at all. To date, it's the only mainline Saw film without an unrated cut. How disappointing.

And, so, after all is said and done, what is there to say about Saw? The first film's great, the sequels vary in quality, but there's only one that's truly awful, and if you can handle an ending that leaves you wanting for more, and unless you watch that 2017 entry, you probably won't be too upset, provided you take Saw for what it is; an entertaining mess that changed the face of horror.

Finally, just because I think it's neat, I'm going to plug maniac1962's fanedits of the Saw franchise; "JIGSAW - A HISTORY OF DESPERATION" and "JIGSAW II - ENDGAME" are considered the most popular of the Saw fanedits, of which there are a lot, made impressive by their ability to contain the best of every film in under four hours, impressive considering the thirteen-hour runtime of the series. It even has an original score! (I'll be honest and say that I haven't seen these yet, but there's not many fanedits that catch my eye, so I'm VERY excited to see how these turn out.)

On that note

🔥 Saw

Saw is fascinating because you will never find a series so fun and campy while also being totally unwatchably boring.

I’m willing to admit that my first ride with saw was one I looked at with rose colored glasses because upon a rewatch there’s very few genuinely good movies in the franchise. But the movies are made in such a way that that becomes it’s greatest strength.

Saw can be as boring on a movie by movie basis as it wants provided it has at least one good kill or twist per movie. Because the rest of it will be so forgettable that the films meld together into a campy amalgamation.

I can’t tell a bad scene in Saw which is funny because I didn’t like a majority of the series upon a rewatch recently. But I can remember how good the good is. And I think for a horror franchise that’s kinda of the most perfect thing you can do. So it wins the gambit.

[dre6ming]

Have some respect

Masterlist

To be added to the tag list click here

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader

Warnings: smut 18+ <minors dni>, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, cursing, explicit language, mention of parent loss, mentions of death, fluff, angst…. Hope that’s all

Plot: you played Priscilla in the Elvis movie, but because you’re socially awkward you rarely interact with Austin and after a very intrusive interviewer asks a inappropriate question you two find comfort with each other.

Word count: 3220

Disclaimer: The idea came to me when I stumbled upon this TikTok (click here to watch) of the interviewer asking Austin how he broke the news that he’s gonna be Elvis to his mom. The interviewer didn’t know about Austin’s mom, which to me just shows lack of interest in doing your job, but you know it might be just me idk

It was yet another long day of sitting in a very uncomfortable chair answering the same questions over and over again. I love acting, please don't get me wrong, I love my job and sometimes even doing interviews can be fun, but after a full day of doing just that, there's nothing more I wish than to go home and take a bubble bath. I guess I should be thankful I'm not the lead of the movie though, as most questions are directed to Austin, so I get to sit beside him, nod and smile.

"Ok the last interviewer will be on in a minute" someone says. I sigh, rubbing my temples and wiggling a little in my chair since I've been stuck in it for hours now. Because of all the wiggling and moving around my chair tips over and I go straight for the ground. I close my eyes, letting out a little yelp, waiting to hit the floor with my face. Thankfully Austin was somewhat paying attention to me and he's quick to grab the chair and my arm. "Phew, my god, thank you" he lets out a chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief, he knows I'm clumsy. I get stuck looking at him for a minute and then I realize his hand is still wrapped around my arm.

Looking down at his hand, seeing the veins running down it, while he's holding my arm...lord have mercy. I lick my lips and have to bite my tongue to stop the moan that rises in my throat. He clears his throat and takes the hand away, brushing it through his hair. If I weren't so fucking tiered and high on caffeine I'd swear I see a blush show up on his face.

The interviewer coming in startles me, so I take my eyes off of Austin and start to fiddle with my shirt. I've worked with Austin for 2 years filming and now we're almost done with a year long press tour, that's three years we've spent together, not once did I think of him in a romantic way. Sure he's good looking, but other than that I don't know much. I know I must sound like a hypocrite, but I'm not really social and besides the talking we did regarding scenes and filming, we've never really talked.

"Hi guys, nice to meet you, can we start?" The interviewer interrupts my train of thought. We both say hello and soon enough the guy starts asking questions. I'm not really listening and my luck will have it that besides two questions, which I've answered before, the guy only talks to Austin. I zone out for the rest of the interview, smiling when it seems like a good time to and laughing a bit when Austin does it. All goes smoothly until I hear the next question.

"So what did you mom and your grandma say when you were like 'guys I got Elvis! I'm gonna be Elvis!'" As soon as the question leaves the interviewer's mouth, my stomach drops. I look at Austin and I see his face fall as he takes in the question. Suddenly I feel so overprotective my mouth speaks before I can process it. "If you're gonna stand there asking us the same stupid questions, you could've at least done some research before hand." The guy seem taken back by my harsh answer and before he can say anything else, I get up from the chair and start taking my mic off. "That's it we're done, we've answered enough, thank you!" I slam the mic in the guys lap and walk past him.

As I make my way to the dressing room, I try not to think about how loud my publicist will scream at me. I also try not think that maybe I overreacted and it wasn't my place to do so. I get inside the dressing room taking my shoes off, my feet hurt so bad from dangling all day on the high chair. I hear a knock on the door. "Come in!" I say closing my eyes preparing for being scolded. God I feel like I'm back in highschool when I used to talk back to my teachers and get screamed at by my mom. I turn to look at Jenelle, only she's not the one to have walked in. It's Austin. I stand up and try to look presentable, but I know I'm far from that.

"Um hi, I just wanted say thank you, for having my back out there, I kinda got stuck." He says fidgeting with his hands. "Oh, yeah, I just, it's nothing. Plus I'm sure I would've frozen if I were in your place." He nods and I dare to look at his face for the first time. His eyes are red, he's not crying but I'm guessing he wants to. "Sit down." I say, motioning to the small couch. I go lock the door, so no one will barge in. Getting some cold water from the mini fridge and a box of tissues from the vanity, I put them next to him. I also sit down, but as far away from him as I can, it's already awkward enough, adding uncomfortable closeness will only make it more awkward. Austin looks at the things I brought over and chuckles, dragging his hand over his face. "You think I'm going to cry?"

I can't read his tone, so I'm just a bit stuck on what to answer. "I would" I say, remembering how hard I cried a few years ago when an interviewer asked me what my father thought about my role in 'Fifty shades of Grey', the woman, just like the guy today, didn't know my dad died when I was 15. "I'm past that." He says, but I don't really believe him. "I'm not."

After I say it, I cover my mouth with my hand, widening my eyes. "What?" He squints his eyes at me, confused by my words. "I-" my eyes move around the room trying to find something to focus on. "My dad died in a car crash when I was 15. A few years ago an interviewer asked my if I ever plan to show my dad 'Fifty shades of Grey', I started bawling on the spot." His face softens and I can see compassion washing over his expression. "I'm sorry!" I laugh trying to hide the lump that forms in my throat. "Don't be, the interviewers have one job, they should know these things"

I look at my lap, playing with the hem of my pants. One of his hands comes to my face, forcing me to look at him. His eyes have evident tears in them. My own vision starts to blur, then I feel his thumb caress my cheek, wiping away a singe tear. He licks his lips and without breaking eye contact he leans forward. "Can I?" He asks, his lips barely touching mine. Austin's breath feels warm against my face. I close my eyes anticipating the kiss. "Yes!" I say breathless.

He's lips crash onto my with force. With one hand holding my face, the other one moves to my waist. His tongue teases my bottom lip, making me open my mouth so he can explore freely. I sigh into the kiss and burry my fingers in his hair. Oh my god is it soft. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears and my lungs burn from being without oxygen for too long. He pulls me towards him, forcing me to sit on his lap, with my legs on either side of his hips. "Austin!" I moan when his lips leave mine and move to trail wet kisses down my neck. He grunts, the hand on my waist moving down to grip my hip.

Austin looks up at me, his eyes are dark with lust, lips swollen from kissing. "Baby, you look so beautiful like this!" I've gone mute, I can't talk, my body reacts unconsciously, as I shiver at the tone of his voice. The hand on my face, travels down, his finger tips brushing my skin, causing goosebumps to appear. Austin plays with the ribbon at the top of my shirt, untying it. The garment opens up, showing a bit more of my cleavage. "So pretty..." he whisper cupping one of my breasts, kneading it though the thin material. When he takes his hand away, my nipples stays hard, showing up through the thinness of the blouse. "No bra?" I shake my head. It was way more comfortable this way.

"Fuck" Austin breathes out, pressing me down on his crotch. I can feel the contour of his bulge, which causes my arousal to grow. Suddenly the room feels too warm. My hands move down his body until I reach the hem of his soft sweater. I sneak my hand under, feeling his hot skin. Austin muscles tense when my cold hands explore his torso and chest, slowly lifting off the sweater. He helps my take it over his head, grinning at me.

I get off from his lap and kiss my way down to the waist band of his pants. "(Y/n) you don't have to!" I think for a millisecond that, yes I don't have to, but I do want to. "I want to!" I say looking up at him between his legs. I carefully unbutton his pants, dragging them down along with his underwear. I sit back and take in the image before me. Austin Butler, my co-star, the person I've been scared to talk to for three years, is sitting naked in front of me, cock hard against his abdomen. He's perfect.

I blow on my hands to warm them up a bit before I touch him and he chuckles at me, brushing his hair back. "You wouldn't be laughing if my hands were freezing cold when I touched your dick." I say, looking at him through my lashes and smirking, when the smile falls from his lips. I take him in my hand, stroking slowly up and down, moving my thumb over the head. "Ah, fuck, baby!" The pet name as me rubbing my thighs together, hoping to get some relief. I come close to his cock and blow on it, smiling when his hips jump up slightly and his bites his bottom lip. "Don't tease!" He warns.

I take him in my mouth, moaning at the taste of him. Austin is struggling to hold still and one of his hands grabs my hair. I move down slowly, trying to take as much of him as I can in my mouth. I moan around him, starting to bop my head. One of my hands grabs his thigh to steady myself, the other goes to his balls, massaging them softly. He can no longer contain himself, he uses the grip on my hair to guide me around him. Tears stream down my cheeks as he starts thrusting his hips up, touching the back of my throat every time. "Fuck me, such a good girl for me, sucking me off so good. Agh-" he throws his head back, eyes closing tightly.

"Stop...stop" I get off of him as soon as he says that and panic arises inside me. Oh god what was I thinking, giving him a blow job, here, when we've barely spoken in the years we've worked together. "I want to be inside you. Can I?" My cheeks turn crimson red. I stand up and pull my shirt over my head, exposing my breasts. "God you're an angel!" As my hands work on my pants, Austin starts stroking himself. I moan at the sight of him pleasuring himself in from to me. After my pants and underwear drop to the floor I kick the away and sit back on his lap. "Like what you see?" I ask with more confidence than I've ever had in my life. I press myself down over his hard dick, grinding myself against him. He grabs my hips stilling me. "No teasing baby, please!" Austin's eyes are half closed looking at me through his lashes. Those long lush lashes.

I lift up my hips, grab him with one hand and align him with my hole, but before I sink down on him he stops me. "Condom, I- I don't have one" he says through gritted teeth. "I'm clean and I have an IUD" I say whining, my wall contracting around nothing in anticipation for him to fill me up. "I'm clean too." He says and lets me move down on him. "So wet for me.." he breathes out "Austin!" I moan as I keep going down.

When my hips touch his, I throw my head back moaning loudly at the feeling on being so full. I start to move on him. He grunts taking in the feeling of me around him. "So tight f'me" he starts helping me move, thrusting into me, meeting my moves. "So good!" I say moving my hands up to play with my breasts. He growls at my actions and moves faster. I have to let go of my breasts and grab his shoulders to steady myself. Austin lifts his head up and sucks one of my nipples in his mouth. "I'm close, please!" I beg.

My walls squeeze him, causing him to lose the rhythm of his thrusts. "Me too baby, me too..." his right hand leaves my hips and goes to my clit. "So wet.." he moans starting to draw circles on the bundle of nerves. Soon I'm trembling above him, my pussy contracting around him over and over again, incoherent curses leaving my lips as my orgasm washes over my body. "Riding me so good, (Y/n), I'm gonna come so hard." When he says that he gets up from the couch, holding me in his arms, dick buried deep inside me. He supports my back and puts me down on the couch, hovering over me.

Austin's thrusts are relentless, the rhythm animalistic, making my boobs shake up and down. "I- I can't, Aus, too much!" I say barely gathering my thoughts enough to make sense. "One more honey, for me, you can do it." I shake my head as tears prick my eyes. His lips are on my cheeks kissing away the salty liquid pouring from my eyes. He starts playing with my clit again, he's unforgiving, chasing both of our orgasm. "With me baby, cum!" He whispers in my ear. I see white dots behind my closed lids, my body trembling with the force of my climax. He kisses me swallowing my screams. I feel him twitch inside me and the the warmth of his cum spilling in me becomes evident.

I hug him closely, tangling my arms around his torso. We stay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth of our bodies being so close. Unfortunately we both broke a sweat during our unholy activities, so I shiver at the temperature in the room. He notices and getting out of me, which is met with a vocal disappointment form me, he takes his blue sweater and puts it over my head. "As much as I hate to hide those beautiful breasts, I don't want you to catch a cold." I giggle and put my arms through the sleeves of the sweater. I lift my hips up to drag the clothing item over my butt as it reaches almost my mid thigh. I wince when I move, feeling the aftermath of having sex after a long time of unintentional abstinence.

His eyebrows draw together at my reaction and then it becomes clear to him as a huge smile spreads over his face, eyes twinkling with joy. "Did I fuck you that good, baby?" He asks kissing my forehead. I laugh and pull his head back by the hair. "What would you say to having dinner with me tonight?" I blush and look away. I can't believe he wants to have dinner with me, it has to be a pity offer since I fucked him. Austin seems to catch on the fact that I'm overthinking and he draws my eyes to him, by lifting my chin up. "I've had a crush on you for a while now, but since you were always so formal when talking I thought you weren't interested" My eyes widen at his confession. "I like you too, I'm just, you know socially awkward.."

He laughs and dips a long finger in between my folds gathering some of his cum, mixed with my own. I moan and watch him as he take the finger up to his lips and lick it clean. "Social awkward? Didn't seem like it a minute ago!" I laugh and slap his chest playfully. We share another laugh and then he comes in for a kiss, a tender, sweet and slow kiss, that causes my heart to speed up and my stomach to do flips.

"So dinner?" He asks when he pulls away. Austin kisses my nose before I can answer, the ticklish feeling making me giggle "with me?" He asks kissing my forehead. "Tonight?" His lips cover mine giving me a quick kiss there as well. "You have to let me answer Butler!" I say chuckling at his playfulness. "So?" He pushes.

"Yes I'll have dinner with you!" I say and he hugs me tightly, kissing my cheek. We both jump when a knock is heard. We hold our breaths as we see  the door knob move, but thankfully I locked the door before hand and whoever is out there can't come in. "(Y/n) meet you at the car in five, what you just did out there was a disaster!" Jenelle, my publicist screams form the other side of the door. "Okay!" I shout back as I start moving around gathering my clothes. I try to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of cum dripping out of me.

In my hurried frenzy, Austin puts his hand on my shoulder. We both share a look and laugh at our current condition. Naked in a dressing room, looking fucked out. We begin to laugh as we both begin getting dressed. I sigh disappointed to have to give his warm, soft sweater that smells like him. After we're both presentable, he kisses the top of my head, holding my face in his hands. "You go first baby! I'll wait a minute to leave!" He mumbles against my hair. I step away from him, take my bag and my shoes and go for the door. Before I walk out I look at him one more time. "See you at 7, I'll make sure to bring the sweater, you can have it" he winks at me. Blushing I smile and walk out of the dressing room.

As I get in the car, I start to question if what happened was real or a tiered hallucination, but all doubt gets washed away when I get comfortable in the seat and feel the cum soak my panties, making me smile as I cross my legs. "What was on your mind?" My eyes snap at Jenelle and I just shrug my shoulders. All I can think of is how I wished 7 o'clock would come faster.

[suna-reversed]

Jujutsu Kaisen hcs- “please don’t leave”

alt. title- needy late night moments

Characters- Yuji, Gojo, Sukuna, Megumi

Tags- angst if you squint but mainly fluff

Yuji- 

- You fell asleep on him while watching a horror movie late night. 

- His one hand clutched the popcorn bowl, the other coming around to cradle your head subconsciously as your body slumped over into his side. 

- His main task for the next hour was to not move a single muscle in fear you’d wake up and go inside the bedroom to sleep.

- He’s just been a little touch starved and liked the warmth you were radiating.

- His task proves to be quite difficult considering he was watching a horror movie with jump-scares every two minutes. 

- It takes 5 failed attempts at Yuji trying not to jolt up whenever something pops up for you to finally stir awake, and you find your eyes meeting with the absolutely terror filled ones of your lover.

- “Please don’t leave” he whispers in a voice that makes your heart break. You end up taking that as him being scared of the movie

- Still in a sleepy daze, you crawl over into his lap, affectionately nosing at his neck while his strong arms come around to hold you tightly, 

- “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here mmkay?” A smile of pure tenderness forms across Yuji’s face, soon enough turning into choking laughter as you sleepily mumble, “I’m ready to throw hands with them dead people”

- “Zombies, babe. They’re zombies.”

- “The only thing they’ll be once I’m done with them is...dead” You slur out that last part, falling back into slumber with a small smile on your face as you feel Yuji shake with silent laughter, his hand coming up to gently pat the back of your head,

- “Thank you baby, I’d throw hands with zombies for you any-day too.”

Gojo Satoru 

- You rolled over in the empty bed for the thousandth time that night. You had learned long before that on most nights you’ll be sleeping without your Satoru.

- So what was different today? Maybe it was the fact that he had informed you of his return. But it had been 2 days since then, and Gojo had never not shown up the same day that he’d told you he was coming back.

- Despite knowing the man you loved was practically undefeatable by most, your mind had considered every single possibility, from him getting captured by a curse to him tripping over and falling into an abandoned sewage line.

- Your stomach churned with anxiety as you considered whether calling Nanami this late to check on Gojo would be a good idea.

- You were halfway into typing his number when you heard the familiar click of the door unlocking, your feet carrying you to the front door faster than your mind could process it.

- And there he was. The bag of sweets he gets you each time in his left hand as he apprehended you with a raised brow and cocky look, 

- “Couldn’t sleep without me sweetheart?”

- He was met with eerie silence as you continued to stare at him. Your sleep deprived mind still processing that he was home. He was safe. 

- Gojo immediately sensed that something was wrong, but before he could react, you were walking towards him, crashing into his arms as he brought his hands around you when-

Thump! 

- Did you just...punch his chest? 

- “I was- I was so scared” you sniffed into his chest. “...you idiot.”

- Gojo’s heart twisted in pain as he heard a sob escape you, his arms tightening around you as he rested his chin on your head. He let you cry it out, gently picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom in midst of you murmuring various swear words at him 

- He finally felt you beginning to calm down as he tucked you in the on your side of the bed. But, as he pulled away, he felt a hand clutch onto his wrist, 

- “Please don’t leave” you said, your voice quivering. 

- “Baby...” he said with a gentle voice, “I’m just going to go change, okay? I’m not going anywhere”

- Even as Gojo changed, he felt your eyes digging into his back like he’d disappear if you let him out of sight for even a moment. 

- He quickly pulled on a pair of sweats, opting to not wear a shirt as he moved into bed with you, your limbs immediately coming to wrap around him. 

- You laid in silence for a while 

- “y/n?” You hummed in acknowledgement, face still buried in his chest

- “I’m always going to come back home to you my love. That’s a promise okay?” 

- You nodded in response, eyes turning glassy once more as Gojo leaned forward to pepper kisses all over your forehead, cheeks, and nose. 

- Gojo lifted his blindfold as he felt your breathing slow down, his ocean eyes filled with utmost adoration as he simply let himself admire your sleeping form. 

Sukuna

- The curse found itself being stuck in its vessel at the most useless of times. - 

- After a late night mission when the brat crashed at your surveillanced apartment, while you completed the formalities and paperwork to submit to Nanami the next morning. 

- Walking out of the guest room, Sukuna found himself amused by your ability to fall asleep in the weirdest of places

- Currently, you sat hunched over the kitchen table, head resting sideways in your arms, tiny snores leaving your mouth as your eyes remained shut. 

- The curse looked back to a few days ago when it had found itself in it’s vessel’s body unwillingly again, a strange warmth curled in his left side. Looking down, he had realised that the strange warmth came from your huddled up body. 

- You had immediately snapped open your eyes and moved away as soon as he had let out a low chuckle. 

- So this time, he approached you carefully. But even then, he had expected you to sense someone’s presence so close next to you. 

- But there was no reaction from you, even as he pulled the chair right next to you and sat down on it.

- “Oi brat”

- Still no response.

- Oh, had you finally let your guard down?

- A dozen different malicious ideas filled Sukuna’s mind, but he found himself simply sitting there, awaiting for a reaction from you. 

- He wondered how you could sleep so comfortably on what was practically a wooden slab. And he found his answer questioned as he curiously leaned down on his own arms, facing you, your noses merely an inch away as he regarded your calm face with a raised brow. 

- He had imagined you to be snarky and biting at him even in your sleep. 

- Why had he imagined you sleeping at all?

- He found himself avoiding the question.

- He stilled as your eyes fluttered open, a cocky smile making it’s way on his lips as he awaited your fear filled eyes. 

- Instead, he found you simply staring back at him, the most of a reaction being you furrowing your brows slightly 

- He didn’t know whether he was a little offended by your lack of response or highly unsettled by your piercing gaze. Nonetheless, he found himself turning his head away, almost in a petty childlike manner. 

- Why did he not get up and leave?

- He felt a hand come to the back of his head, and his senses instantly got ready to go into offensive mode. 

- But this was something much much worse than an attack.

- He found your fingers gently brush over his hair, almost like you were absorbing it’s softness into your fingertips. The breaking point was you gently scratching his head with your nails. He almost purred. 

- But he also found his own hand coming up to grip your wrist, stilling your hand in place.

- “What-are-you-doing?” He emphasised each word as he turned his towards you again, hand still holding yours above his head.

- You continued to stare at him with a look he didn’t quite understand,

- “Your hair is...soft” You slurred your words a little, wiggling your fingers that were trapped in his hand. He let go, only to find you entangling your hand back into his hair, quite shamelessly this time as you closed your eyes once again.

- He didn’t know whether it was the tiredness of that night or simply your sleepiness, but you didn’t acknowledge it the next day. He chose not to either even though he had spent all night thinking of how he’d get to tease you with this.

- But, the king of curses did find himself leaning more towards you whenever you were in his presence. Your hand brushing with his every now and then. Him gently tugging on a strand of hair before tucking it behind your ear and you letting him. Staying right there if he woke up with you on his shoulder while on the train back from a mission. 

- Eventually, you show up to Yuji’s room on a day much similar to the night where you first touched the curse, eyes sunken and shoulders slumped, desperate for any sort of comfort and almost relieved at the fact that he was there. 

- He was taken back as you climbed into the bed, arms wrapping around him, hands going straight to tangle themselves in his hair as you buried your face in his chest.

- “Please don’t leave” 

- He found his own arms pulling you further into him because who was he to deny you when your touch felt so divine? 

Megumi

- Getting a call from Megumi at 2 am after you had just returned from a mission was the last thing you had expected

- Megumi had grown considerably close to you for a boy who didn’t always wear his emotions on his sleeve.

- However, perhaps it was the fact that you had ended up giving him a tiny huge scare by going missing for a few hours on the mission

- It wasn’t anything major, you had gotten injured and accidentally strayed off the path you were ordered to follow

- Nonetheless, the news had reached the school, particularly Megumi, who was halfway out, ready to go and save you from whatever had taken you when the message had come that they had found you unconscious in some corner of the forest. He had only left the infirmary after being assured countless times that you were fine and being pulled away by Yuji.

- Still, he found his mind running and all he wanted was to hear your voice to make sure you were okay.

- He honestly hadn’t expected you to pick up, but he hadn’t known that the nurse had allowed you to go back to your dorm once you woke up.

- So he found himself speechless as he heard your voice

- “...Megumi? Is everything okay?”

- “Yes” he murmured.

- “The nurse told me you were there with me for quite a while…”

- There was a beat of silence before he said,

- “You scared me”

- He immediately hung up after that.

- You knew that it was difficult for him to express such emotions and so you found your feet carrying you to the front of his door

- You weren’t exactly sure of what you were going to do, but you didn’t have to figure that out as the door opened in your face, Megumi gesturing for you to come in.

- As soon as you shut the door, you felt your body being pulled into his warm embrace. You sighed, taking in his familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

- You eventually ended up on his bed, limbs tangled with each other under the sheets as he traced random patterns onto your arm to convey the words he couldn’t say, till he fell asleep.

- You found yourself noticing the time, sighing as you got ready to go back to your dorm, but Megumi noticed the slight movement,

- “Angel...” he murmured sleepily, nuzzling his head into your neck, “Please don’t leave.”

- Your heart melted at his words and the consequences of sleeping in another student’s room seemed to fade from your mind as you tightened your grip on him,

- “Never”

[whumperooni]

Oh to be aizawas favorite student that gets stuffed on the regular, during class breaks, after school and special visits to his room at night. He baby's her quite a lot. He can't help it. And she gets favoritism but no one actually suspects he's teaching her how to be such a good girl behind doors.

yes yes yes

we all just want to be Sensei’s favorite student and have him teach us how to suck his cock just right

uh, nsfw rambling under the cut. and ye student has been aged up

It’s something that doesn’t happen on purpose or right away- first, you arrive at UA and you’re blessed with Aizawa as your homeroom teacher. And lucky, lucky him- you’re a wonderful student. Smart and polite and eager to learn. Your quirk is similar to his- erasure but by touch instead- and you’re always so respectful and attentive when you come to him for advice on how to use it, how to improve, how to be better. Sensei, I just want to do my best.

You quickly become his favorite the more he helps you and it’s a pleasant surprise when he finds the two of you have some common ground beyond quirks. Movies, books, shows, food- your tastes are similar and it’s easy to talk to you about things beyond the strict realm of what he should stick to.

You’re just so...easy to get along with. Relaxing. And, god, it’s such a nice change to have a student that is constantly working on improving, that lights up so much when given praise and absorbs every bit of advice that you can. You’re malleable, but not brainless and it’s no surprise when he realizes that he has a soft spot for you.

Your second year is a little rough- new homeroom teacher, internships, work studies, all the competition that comes with making a name for yourself in the hero world. Even though he’s not your teacher anymore, you can’t help wander back to him for advice and a familiar comfort. Aizawa, for his part, is content enough to keep guiding you along- will listen to you as you fret and worry and question yourself. His calm words and solid advice are always enough to raise your confidence again and the little sessions you two have will end with you nodding in determination and saying Sensei, I promise I’ll make you proud.

He already knows you will- you work hard and you’re so eager for his approval, always chasing after success and the reward of a pat to a head and your favorite sensei telling you good job. you did well. i’m proud of you. (He never doles out praise like that but, god, do you work hard to earn it- you deserve your sensei’s approval and compliments. You always work so hard. for him.)

The third year is a bit easier, but it’s tiring- you’re working properly as a hero now and juggling balancing school and being an acting sidekick. You still come to your sensei for help and it fills him with satisfaction whenever he hears how you’ve blossomed under his instruction.

This is the year, too, when his gaze keeps trailing after you, when he finally realizes just how much he enjoys your eagerness and your wide eyes, the way you nearly melt when he gives you praise.

Like any good teacher, he feels disgusted by himself. Disgusted but...interested. He swears to himself that he’ll never be inappropriate with you, that he’ll keep being there for you as always and keep the relationship respectable.

He tells himself that, but...

But his hands start brushing against you when you walk next to each other. But he begins to tuck your hair behind your ear and brush it from your eyes, trail his fingers along your check. But his touch becomes more frequent during training- experienced hands moving you to get your stance to perfection and lingering as he explains technique, giving the lightest of squeezes before dropping away.

And you...you never pull away or balk or do anything- you just look up at him with wide eyes and cheeks holding the lightest, sweetest flush and nod along to whatever he’s saying, keep following his instructions until you’re perfect.

You trust him so much and respect him to the highest regard- Sensei is important to you in every sort of way and you’d follow him into hell if he asked.

You’d do anything if he asked.

With your third year and all your hero work comes attention, popularity. Boys keep hounding after you and, honestly, it’s flustering. Embarrassing whenever they put their hands a little too low on your waist while chatting you up and look over you with hooded eyes. Their touch is nothing like Sensei’s- you don’t want to melt into and you don’t want more; all you want is to shy away.

The attention troubles you and it’s something that Aizawa picks up on. You almost don’t want to tell him about it whenever he asks, but you can’t not answer your sensei and, besides, he’s given you so much advice before- he’s sure to guide you through this confusing time in your life.

So you tell him, shyly, about the boys and their touches and their crude remarks. You blush and mumble that it’s overwhelming, that it’s embarrassing. You’ve never dated anyone before- you’ve never even kissed anyone before. You don’t know how and...and you’re nervous about it- what if you’re bad? What if they laugh?

Seeing you blushing and embarrassed would be a KO to Aizawa- one quick snap of his already frail self-control. He’d tell you that you just need practice, that it’s not something you need to rush. And, god, sweet fretting you who has danced through his fantasies and turned a respectable man into a closet pervert would be helpless when Aizawa- when the man you look up to with stars in your eyes, when the man whose every word you hang on to, when the man you’ve had such a sweet little crush on since day one, when Sensei- places a hand to your cheek and tells you that he could teach you.

How could you pass it up?

So it starts with that- his lips pressing against yours and your mind going dizzy with wonder and giddy, anxious disbelief. So, so chaste at first- slow to keep you from growing skittish and pulling away. And when it gets deeper, more hot that’s when he starts to tell you how to angle your head, how to use your tongue, how to mold your lips perfectly against his. Less tongue this time. That’s better. Try biting my bottom lip like this.

You listen to his instructions like a lovesick puppy- cheeks flushed and eyes hazy and the need to please him flooding through you stronger than ever before.

It starts with kissing and then it’s him teaching you how to ride his thigh, how to get off with just that grinding pressure and his murmured praise, his hands running over your waist. Then Sensei teaches you about pleasuring yourself- long fingers stroking over your cunny and curling deep inside, little whimpers and mewls leaving you while he explains your g-spot and how to stretch yourself for a cock, how to rub your little clit and make yourself come. He’ll get you off and suck your juices from his fingers, sit back in a chair and then make you do everything he just did- telling you when to add a finger, when to stroke your clit, encouraging you when you whine and say that your fingers are too small and they don’t feel as good as his.

So, of course, if you’re fingers aren’t good enough then he has to teach you about sex toys. He buys you a vibrator and uses it on you until you’re shaking, makes you stuff it in your panties before class and has you hurrying to him on break so you can show him that you’re soaked, that you can come now and please let me come sensei, i need to- it’s so much.

He’ll have you stuff your fingers into your soaked, throbbing pussy and he’ll let you come whenever you mewl a “Sensei, please.” And then he’ll have you suckle your juices from your fingers, teach you how good you taste.

Which, of course, will lead to lessons of him eating you out- face burying between your spread thighs and tongue flicking over your clit until it’s too  much and you try to squirm away on instinct. That gets his wraps around your wrists and you sat on his face- his hands gripping your bum and making you hump against him until he’s soaked with your cum and you’re too tired and sore to give more than a twitch of your hips.

Then, of course, it’s your turn to learn about pleasing someone else with your mouth- you get to see Sensei’s dick for the first time and it’s so, so flustering to watch him stroke it while he explains blowjobs and how to run your little tongue over his head, how to suckle his balls like a good girl. Just like that- you’re doing so good. Watch your teeth, okay? Remember to breathe.

This particular lesson gets repeated again and again- it’s hard to take his length fully at first and he has to let you train your throat until you can take him down to the root and swallow his cum without choking and gagging.

It becomes a habit of yours to suck your sensei off at the end of the day- you sinking to your knees and swallowing him down while he grades papers; his hand petting your hair and a serene look on your face as you bob your head along your sensei’s length, make him come.

The biggest lesson- the most important one- is when he finally, finally fucks you.

Aizawa knows he has to do it right- he knows that it has to be good for you. He wants it to be good for you- you’ve certainly earned it with all the hard work you’ve put in so far.

It happens during a break when he actually has time to dedicate to a good, proper fuck. You’re nervous at first, heart fluttering with anticipation, and he’s quick to soothe you with doting kisses, pull you into his lap and make you dizzy with his touch, his lips. He kisses you until pleasure is smoldering down low and then he carries you to the bed- cradling you gently and laying you out, taking a moment to soak in your flushed cheeks and adoring eyes, the way your lips move with a shy, needy murmur of “Sensei.”

He gets you off once, twice before stripping down and crawling over you. It hurts a little when he slides into your wet, warm cunny but he soothes that sting with kisses and hummed praises of how good you’re doing, how you’re such a good girl for him. You’re taking me so well. You’re doing such a good job. Good girl- you’re such a good girl. Honestly, the praise is enough to have your eyes watering and your already overstimulated pussy squeezing around him.

You come before he’s fully in and he takes advantage of that wave of pleasure to slip in the rest of the way, bury himself completely in that soaked cunt that he’s been starving for. You’ll have time to sob a “sensei” but then your mind will get hazed over by the feeling of being full, by how good it feels to have your teacher rocking into your needy pussy and pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck.

The first time you come on his cock it’s with his lips pressed to your forehead as he murmurs for you to come for him- to come for sensei.

The next time you come on his cock is when you’re riding him the following night- his mouth sucking on your soft breasts and your back arching as he shoots hot ropes of cum into your spasming pussy.

He’ll show you how to clean yourself after and he’ll make you come again- face buried between your thighs and his tongue eating out the creampie he had nestled deep into your cunny.

After that, it’s fair game for him to call out of class for “just a word” or to drag you from regular training for some “one on one” training. And you’re just as bad- coming to him like a bitch in heat as soon as you feel your cunny begin to tingle and begging him to fuck you, let you suck him off- sensei, please!

Of course he spares the time to do that for you- you are his favorite student after all.

[mysticalrambling]

Hi!!!!!!! I have a request for you😋

Its something to do with the recent Chris and Lizzo interaction(no hate to her). Can you write something about their recent interaction, like chris and lizzo talking about the baby joke and the internet goes nuts. But what chris doesn't know is that his girlfriend feels hurt, that he is disregarding her feelings, like its kind of humiliating to the reader, that chris her boyfriend is talking about baby with other person when he has his own girlfriend and she is hurt by him. She confronts Chris but he just gets mad and calls her jealous and insecure, which hurts her further and she just gets mad and leaves his house. Later when Chris mom sees the news she scolds him about joking of having a baby with someone else and hurting his partner then he understands how his girlfriend must have felt and they recincile. I hope you're getting what i m saying sorry if it sounds confusing, but can you write it? 🤗

Facing Realities (C.E)

A/N: Thank you so much lovely and I loved the plot line. I loved writing about it and I made a few additions to the story. Hope you like it and I am open to more requests.

Chris Evans Fanfiction (Fanfiction Master List)

Summary: You feel unimportant when Chris can easily discuss about having a child with Lizzo in public but will always dismiss you when you bring up the topic. Getting in to a fight, you leave him and he eventually realises his mistake because of his mom.

Warnings: Angst but eventual fluff.

._._._._.

“The fans want to know about the Instagram dms between the two of you.” The reported quizzed Lizzo and Chris as they both sat in front of him on the couch.

“Well, our baby is going to be the best.” Lizzo spoke with amusement clear in her eyes.

“The world is going to have a little Captain America at their hands soon, right Lizzo?” Chris chuckled.

“Right. And how is your new movie coming along?” The interviewer started asking different questions and soon it was all over.

“Will see you soon Cap. Say hi to (Y/N) for me.” With a quick hug, she left the studio with her usual power walk. Chris just shook his head slightly when he heard all the fans asking her about the baby. They were all truly something and Lizzo just went through them without giving a response.

You didn’t have anything against Lizzo because you knew that everything between her and Chris was platonic. The fact that Chris was so open to discuss about having a baby was what bothered you. He always dismiss you when you wanted to talk about your future and extending your family. It felt like you were the only one in this world that Chris did not want to talk to regarding this topic. This made you feel worthless and pathetic.

You knew that jealousy wasn’t the right word to describe your emotions right now but that’s what it felt like. Confronting people was never your thing and you always did what they asked instead of arguing. It was much easier but you knew that you couldn’t get away with this. This was in regards to your future and so when Chris was going to come home from his interview, you were going to talk to him about it.

“Honey, I am home.” Losing his jacket on the love seat, he made his way towards the kitchen because it was dinner time and he could smell the delicious food from the hallway.

“Hi babe. I am making your favorite. Just go and freshen up.” You stated not turning back because you knew you would break the instant your eyes landed on your boyfriend.

He came to the dining table in his sweats and dived into the food immediately because he was starving. “So…” You tried starting up a conversation but backed down when you saw his questioning gaze trained on you. “Um how was the interview?”

“It was nice. Lizzo and I talked about the baby. God, I just love that woman.” The self doubt in your mind was growing by the minute because he was casually talking about a baby with another woman. He didn’t realise that he was hurting your feelings and he just kept on talking about how amazing it would be to actually have a baby with Lizzo.

“So have you ever thought about extending our family?” You finally mustered up some courage to ask him the question.

“No, I haven’t. We can talk about it another time. So what did you today?” The dismissal in his tone was enough to break your heart into tiny pieces.

“But we have too, Chris. We have been in a relationship for the past three years.”

“I do not want to discuss it today so just drop it (Y/N).” The stern look would have made you back down in a normal situation but not today.

Dropping your fork on the plate, you spoke with irritation, “You never want to have this discussion with me but you would gladly do it with Lizzo.”

“I knew it had something to do with her. Why are you so jealous?”

“I am not jealous. It’s just that you are willing to discuss about your baby with everyone except me.”

“There is nothing going on between Lizzo and I, if that’s what you mean.”

“I know that. I just want to know if you have ever thought about having kids with me or am I just a fling to you?” You we’re absolutely done with him at this point and you dreaded his answer.

“(Y/N), I have told you a million times that you are not a fling. What are you on about?”

“It just seems that I am no longer the person that you want to discuss things with. It’s just not about the whole kid thing but you didn’t even tell me that you are starting in a new movie. I had to find it from the fucking paparazzi.”

“I was going to tell you and I am just not ready for a family yet.”

“Well instead of ignoring me every chance you got, you could have told me about it.” The frustration in your eyes was clear but Chris chose to ignore it. It was as if he was totally immune to all of your emotions.

Whenever the topic of children came up, Chris didn’t tinker why he acted like a jerk. He had always thought about expanding his family but when you came in to the picture, he was so terrified of losing you that he couldn’t even think what a baby would do to your relationship.

“I am not good with all this and you need to be patient with me.”

“All I have ever been is patient for you. Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Sudden realization dawned upon him and he was left speechless.

“I need a break from you. Call me when you figure everything out.”

“(Y/N), you are doing this because of Lizzo. Stop acting like an insecure and jealous bit-” Stopping mid sentence, he looked at you in horror.

Tears sprang in your already damp eyes, “Why are you stopping now? Finish the sentence, Chris.”

“(Y/N), I-”

“Good bye, Chris.” Walking out of your once shared home was the most difficult thing that you had to do in this life but there was no other choice. You both were at an impasse and you needed time to sort it all out. Hailing a taxi, you went to your friend, Scarlett’s house. She was a mutual frond of you both but she had become your best friend in the past three years.

Meanwhile, Chris downed a whole bottle of scotch and sat in your shared bedroom with your picture in his hand. He didn’t want to lose you to a stupid argument but he failed to see that he was at fault. Sleeping without you proved as a heinous task and he gave up after two hours. He just sat in the bed alone and hoped to God that you will come back to him. A life without you wasn’t a life at all. However, Chris would not be the one to apologise because in his opinion, he didn’t do anything wrong.

The passing few days, you absolutely refused to get out of the house and stayed holed up in Scarlett’s guest bedroom. “(Y/N), you need to eat something.” Your friend barged in with a tray full of food and you instantly felt nauseous.

“Not in the mood, Scar.” Your eyes had been red and puffy for the last week but you didn’t care. Chris was the only one that you cared about. However, you could not be in a relationship that had no future. You deserved better than that.

“You need to eat and get out of this mood. It’s making me depressed.”

“I don’t care. Leave me alone.” Snapping at her was never your intention and you instantly regretted it. “I am sorry. I am just not in the right frame of mind.”

“It’s okay. You want to watch something.”

“Yeah, F.R.I.E.N.D.S.”

Chris was no better than you or maybe even worse. He hadn’t changed out of his sweats for the past two days and had a slight scruff covering his face. Empty bottles of alcohol laid around the whole house and rotten food was placed on the kitchen counter. The whole house was a mess and he didn’t care about anything. Except you. Everything in this house reminded him of you and he hated it. From the bedroom walls to the well groomed garden.

The phone rang for the millionth time and he picked it up from the nightstand. It was his mom. Sighing, he finally picked it up. “Christopher Robert Evans, where the hell have you been?”

“I was at home, mom.” The loose thread on your pillowcase suddenly seemed more interesting than the phone conversation.

“With (Y/N)?”

“She left me, mom.” Chris didn’t want to talk about it but he figured that his mom wouldn’t leave him alone otherwise.

“Serves you right. You left her no other choice.”

“How can you say that? I haven’t done anything.”

“I saw the interview, Chris. Have you ever talked with (Y/N) about extending your family?”

“No but I was just joking with Lizzo.”

“It doesn’t matter. She would have felt unimportant because this is a very private matter and she was not a part of it.”

“But-”

“Imagine if the roles were reversed.” Realisation dawned upon him and he quickly said goodbye to his mother because he had a girlfriend to win back. Every second spent without you was agonizing and he never wants to experience it.

“(Y/N), Chris is here to see you.” Peeking her head through the door, Scarlett informed you about your boyfriend. You quickly untangled yourself from the sheets and ran to the washroom. You wanted to look presentable but Chris could see the dark circles under your eyes and your thin figure. There was a sudden pang in his heart because he knew this was all his doing.

“I am sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have said anything. I am a fool. Please forgive me.” He started ranting as soon as Scar left the room.

“Chris, have you thought about what I said?” Your calm aura was scaring his wits so he quickly answered with a yes. “Please elaborate.”

“I have realised that I was at fault and I am going to be more open about the future of our relationship from now on.” The sincere look in his eyes was hard to miss.

“Promise?” Gone was the calm and collected exterior, and stood before him was a vulnerable young woman.

“I promise, baby. Now, will you come back home? I have missed you.”

“Yes and I missed you too.” Kissing him on the lips, you sighed because this was your heaven and you wouldn’t want to leave it for the world.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

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A/N: I love Chris Evansand I was happy to write a fanfiction about him. If you guys have any more request, I will be happy to write about them and message me if you want to be added to the tag list.

Taglist: @justile 

Like, comment and reblog.

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[i-cant-sing]

I know requests are closed so this isn’t a request I just had an idea based off an ask you got about hawks and the Todoroki clan. What if the reader escaped from yandere Todoroki clan (Dabi scared the reader/took it too far with the threats, or because endeavor and the brothers had a fight and the reader got scared)and they ran into hawks, crying and panicked thinking that he would help. But hawks recognizes them from the pictures in endeavors desk and offers them a lift to somewhere safe. Only for hawks to fly the reader back to the Todoroki estate where the whole family is waiting for them.

The reader feels hurt and betrayed and everyone is angry, but hawks being hawks tries to diffuse the situation by saying,”stop scaring the poor kid. They came to me scared out of their mind, but being the outstanding godfather that I am, I made sure to bring them back safely.” (Or something like that)

And endeavor just accepts that hawks claimed himself as the readers godfather, and tells the reader to get inside and to clean up.

So now hawks takes it upon himself to hang around the estate more to fulfill his “godfather” duties, spoiling the reader as much as he can.

Yandere Godfather Hawks x Todoroki clan reader

I was going to write boyfriend Hawks, instead of Godfather Hawks but this was just too good. I kinda thought that the age gap between Hawks and reader would be too much so maybe Godfather would be a better role for him, but the chaos that would follow if they find him dating reader would be just *chef's kiss*. I think I just might write bf Hawks too. Let me know what you guys think.

Anyways, enjoy!

Check out my MASTERLIST here!

Yandere Hawks:

You didn't know how long you had been running for. You didn't know how far you had gotten away from their house. You didn't even know where you were going, to be honest. But you did know that you had to get away from there as far as you could.

Sure, you only had a few hours headstart. But for them, the most powerful family in Japan, this wasn’t enough time for you. 

You had planned your escape with their schedule in mind.

Enji would come home from his office at 9pm; he used to return at 11, but ever since you were kidnapped adopted by them, he tries to come home early.

Natsuo had already visited you during the day. He habitually comes after his shift at the hospital. Once he would check you over for any injuries and be satisfied with your overall health, he would join you, Rei and Fuyumi for a quick lunch before leaving.

Usually, you would spend the day with Rei, Fuyumi and Shotou, then Enji would come by the time dinner was served. And once everyone went to sleep, Dabi would come to visit you around 2 am. He would tap on your window and disturb you from your sleep, but its not like you have any engagements in the morning anyways. Once you would let him in, he would talk to you and maybe watch a movie too. If he's pissed, he might "accidentally" leave a burn mark on your arm (and you've tried asking your family for help, but they wouldn't do anything. Natsuo would just bandage you up, while Shotou would comfort you. Besides, you've learned not to snitch on Dabi because he would even get angrier than before.)

That was your routine ever since they had took you, almost 7 months ago. Well, they had actually adopted you an year ago, and everything was going well. But then you started noticing their odd behaviour. You thought they were just being protective of you at first, but as time went on, their obsessive tendencies and no regard for your personal boundaries started weirding you out.

Then one day, they just stopped letting you out of the house. No matter how much you cried, begged or fought, they just wouldn't let you go outside, telling that you its for your own good.

At first, they would use cuffs to keep you bound since you fought so much. But then you started behaving, and they slowly started trusting you more and stopped putting on the restraints.

What they didn't know was that you were just biding your time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to escape. Like today.

Shotou had to go to his friend's house to work on a school project, so he wasn't able to join you at lunch today and would be coming home late.

After lunch, once Natsuo had left, you asked Fuyumi if she could go to the mall and buy you some books. You had been complaining to her about your boredom for quite sometime now, so she agreed and left to go shop for you.

So that only left you with Rei in the house. And while she had a weaker quirk than the rest of the family, your quirkless self was no match for her either.

But she was easier to fool. You told Rei that you were going to take a nap in your room and to call you when dinner was ready. Rei nodded before going to the kitchen to start preparing for dinner.

You went to your room and opened the window to get out. It used to be bolted shut but after months of working on it slowly but stealthily, you had managed to pop it open. It was 6, and you were sure Fuyumi and Shotou would be coming home by 7, so without having anytime to pack, you ran.

It was stupid. You should've at least gotten your coat and shoes on, but there was no guarantee a chance like this would appear again, so you left without them.

You kind of regret it now, as you winced in pain at all the rocks and twigs pressing into your bare feet. You shivered in the cold, which didn't bother you at first because of the adrenaline pumping through your veins, but now as you slid against a dumpster in an alley to give a break to your legs, you wished Rei could've given you some proper clothes, instead of the light, pastel pink dress. In her defence, the house was centrally heated during winters so you didn't really need warm clothes inside the house. But now, looking at the dark clouds forming in the sky, you wished she could've at least given you a sweater.

It had soon started raining, and the wind had picked up as well. Shivering, you decided to stay put by the dumpster and wait until it stopped. It would be easier for them to find you if you ran now because the streets will be empty because of the rain. And its not like you could go to a police station either. How will you explain to them that the no.1 hero had kidnapped you?

Sighing, you closed your eyes. You just have to vanish from their eyes until they give up on you, or at least find someone else to replace you.

Hawks was flying home when it had begun raining. Tutting, he flew back to the ground to walk his way home. It was dangerous to fly during the rain; his feathers would get heavy and weigh him down.

As he was walking, whistling to himself, he heard someone whimper in the alley to his left. He walked in the dark alley, bracing himself for any sudden movements. The little whimpers came from near the dumpster. The alley had no light, so he couldn't see much. He walked closer to the source of whimpers and he could make out a silhouette of a shivering girl, who was completely drenched. Her eyes were closed so she hadn't noticed Hawks yet.

He took a step closer. "Hey. You okay?" As soon Hawks voice reached her ears, she snapped her eyes open and backed away from him. Hawks backed up a bit, raising his hands in surrender. "Its okay. I'm a hero." He said, calmly.

Once she seemed recognise him, or at least realise he wasn't dangerous, she relaxed a bit. "What are you doing in the rain?"he asked. She paused for a bit, before replying in a tiny voice,"none of your business." Hawks smiled. "It kinda is. Now you can either tell me, or I can take you to the cops and you can tell them. What's it gonna be?"

Your breath hitched at his question. If he takes you to the cops, Enji will surely find you, and the punishment that will be waiting for you...you didn't even want to think about it. "I'm just...running." you mumbled, hoping he would leave you alone. "From who?" When you didn't reply, he sighed. "Okay. Can you tell me why you're running?"

You thought for a bit. Would he believe if you told him the truth? You knew he was close friends with Enji and you heard from Enji that he was very loyal to him, so you doubted that he would believe you if you told him the no. 1 hero had been holding you hostage for 7 months. But maybe he could help you. If you just tell him that someone's after you, then maybe he could drop you off somewhere safe?

Gulping, you answered. "I- I was kidnapped. And they've probably noticed that I'm missing now and- and I need to hide before they can find me. I can't, I can't go back there-" your voice broke down as you slowly started crying.

Hawks's eyes widened as he heard you confess. He hugged you, rubbing your back soothingly. "Shh, its okay. I'm here now. Tell me who it is." You shook your head no. "Don’t be afraid. I'll keep you safe. Just tell me who-" "No!"you cut him off, realising that you would be putting his life in danger if you told him the truth. The Todorokis have done it before, with your old family and friends; you have no doubt that they will do it again.

Hawks was taken aback by your outburst. Who were you so afraid of? Was it a crazy ex? Or a family member? Maybe you had gotten in trouble with the wrong crowd? Whoever it was, fear was evident in your voice. He had to help you.

"Okay. I'm sorry. How about we get out of the rain? Maybe to a cafe, where we can get a coffee to warm ourselves up?" He asked you again, trying to look at your face in the dark. You shook your head again, before speaking. "Could you- could you just get me out of this city? Or at least as far away from here as possible?"

Who were you so scared of that you wanted to leave the city? He could investigate that later, but first he needed to get you out of the rain. 

He nodded. "Alright. It should stop raining anytime now, so I can't fly you out right now. How about we walk to my apartment and warm ourselves and then, I could take you anywhere you want?"

This was the best you were going to get. You know you need to leave the city right now, but he was your only chance of leaving. So you agreed. Hawks smiled at that. "Can you walk?"he asked you. You nodded, but as soon as you took a step, you yelped in pain, almost falling down. Thankfully, Hakws was near to catch you. He laughed. Noticing your chattering teeth, he gave you his jacket. "You're going to catch a cold." Once you had worn his big, warm jacket, he lifted you up into his arms and started walking out of the alley and towards his home.

As he got out of the alley, the street lights finally illuminated your face.

You looked familiar, like he'd seen you before, but he can't seem to remember where he saw you. His eyes scanned your face. Your brows were furrowed in worry, and you kept looking over his shoulder. You looked scared, almost like a child. Looking down, he noticed your pink dress was completely ruined. He moved his gaze to your feet. They were bleeding, due to the stones, twigs and broken glass that had pierced them. Your legs had tiny burns, some had faded, others looked still fresh.

Were you being abused? Is that why you're running? He wanted to ask you these questions but he knew he had to wait for you to open up.

"Thank you."your tiny voice brought him back to reality. Hawks gave his famous heroic smile. "No problem." You gave a tiny smile of your own. It was kind. "Why do you keep looking back?"he asked you. Your eyes widened slightly, looking like a kid who got caught stealing cookies. "Are you worried about them taking you away again?"he asked, not really sure who he was referring to. You started tearing up again. Your lips wobbled as you slowly nodded your head. He stopped walking, causing you to look up to him. "Its okay. I promise I'll never let anyone hurt you again. I promise." His voice held such sincerity, you started crying into his chest as you kept on thanking him.

Hawks meant every word. He's going to make sure nobody ever lays a finger on you. How could anyone harm such a sweet thing like you?

He rubbed your shoulder with one hand to calm you down. Once you had stopped crying, he spoke again. "Hey, look. It stopped raining." You looked up and he was right; the sky had cleared up. "Well, are you ready to fly?" You smiled slightly before nodding. He told you to hold on to him tightly, and you buried your face into his chest before he took off.

Once you guys were in the air, Hawks told you to open your eyes. You did and the view was breathtaking. Tall buildings and sky scrapers were all over the city, and tiny lights from cars and street lamps looked like stars. It looked like a scene from an anime. Really pretty.

"Wow."you finally said. Hawks chuckled at that. Your looked like you just saw Santa. So adorable.

"I'm glad you like it."he said, as he started flying towards his home. You smiled. "Hey! You never told me your name."he said, mocking fake surprise.

You giggled at that. "I'm Y/n."

And just like that, Hawks finally remembered where he had seen you.

A year ago Endeavour had asked him to find everything he can on this one particular girl. Hawks thought that maybe you were linked to some case, but your records were clean, so he thought that maybe Enji was just looking for someone for Shotou. Hawks thought it was weird when you suddenly disappeared from the public eye a month later. He tried to ask Enji about you but he would just brush him off, telling him he had mistook you for someone else. It was odd, but Hawks eventually let go of it.

Wait. Does that mean Enji had been hurting you? No, that can't be it. Enji had been working with him on a lot of missions abroad, and the burn marks on your legs were rather fresh. 

"Whats wrong?"your soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. "Hmm? Oh nothing. Why do you ask?"Hawks faked a smile. You stared at him. Something was off. "Nothing. Its just you were lost in your thoughts, I guess."

Hawks laughed at that. "You’re really observant, aren't you?" Deciding to test out his theory, he continued. "Well, you're right. I was thinking about a work colleague. You might've heard of him. Endeavour, hm?"

At the sound of his name, you stiffened, confirming his suspicion. You were connected to him somehow. Hawks didn't know how, but he was going to figure it out. "Um, y-yeah. He's the no.1 h- hero, right?"the fear in your voice had returned, although you were trying hard to hide it.

Hawks nodded. "Yeah!" He had to find out how you were linked to Enji. Suddenly, he turned around and started flying back where you guys had started.

"W-what are you doing? Why are we going back?"you asked him. He looked down at you and replied, "we need to get bandages for your wounds. Otherwise your feet will get infected." You nodded. "Oh. Okay." With that you closed your eyes to prevent them from drying against the wind.

After maybe half an hour or so, you opened your eyes to look where you guys were flying to. You looked down and to your horror, saw a familiar house coming up. You looked at Hawks and he seemed to know what you were thinking. "We're going down there."he nodded his head towards the Todoroki estate. Your eyes grew wide, and your body started trembling. "No! No! We- we can't! We can't go there!" You started shaking your head. "And why not?"Hawks stopped flying towards the estate, simply flapping his wings to remain in the air. You just shook your head. "We can't. I can't. Just drop me off somewhere else. I'll be fine on my own." Hawks wanted to know the real reason. He frowned. "Tell me the truth right now or I'll take you down there this instant."

You gulped, his eyes were showing that he wasn't bluffing. Your eyes started to glisten with unshed tears as you finally told him the truth. You told him everything; about how Enji had kidnapped you, how he got rid of your real family, how he and Rei had tried to keep you a secret from everyone, how their kids found out about you but instead of helping you out, became attached to you just like their parents, about how the famous villian Dabi was Enji's son and how he would sometimes burn you. By the time you were done, tears were flowing down your cheeks as Hawks tried to process what you had just confessed to him.

"Do you trust me?"he suddenly asked you. You looked at him confused. "What?" He repeated again. "Do you trust me?" Did you? Honestly, not that much, but he was the only one who was going to help you so you slowly nodded. "Yes?" Not really sure of it yourself but Hawks accepted the answer anyways. "Good." As soon as he said that, he started flying again, towards the house. You started thrashing in his arms again. "No! You said you wouldn't take me back here! You said you wouldn't!"you were full on sobbing against him, trying to wring yourself free from his vice grip, but Hawks was neither listening nor relenting his tight hold on you.

You looked down and that's when you saw them. Enji, Rei, all of them, were standing in the garden looking at you and Hawks. Even Dabi was there. Rei must've panicked and called everyone. And from the look on his- everyone's face, you could tell you were in deep trouble.

You thrashed in Hawks arms, begging him to fly away, but he didn't listen to you at all.

Once you reached the ground, you didn't pull your head out of Hawk's chest. You don't want to see their rage or the punishments they have planned for you.

"Hey, Endeavour!" Hawks broke the silence first. "Mrs Todoroki. Kids." He nodded towards them. "Hawks. Who do you have there?"Enji asked, pretending as if he doesn't know you. Hawks laughed. "You don't have to pretend! I know everything." At this, Dabi activated his quirk, ready to cremate him but was stopped by Shotou.

Thinking that this was some sort of blackmail, Enji asked, "What do you want? Money?"

Hawks smirked. "Nope! Look, I know you kidnapped her and all but you are providing her a good life, right?" He paused to look at them. Everyone nodded. He continued. "And you're just keeping her home to protect her from harm?" Again, everyone nodded. "But she still managed to escape you all even though she's quirkless and you all are not."

"Get to the fucking point."Dabi said impatiently.

Hawks sighed. "Clearly, you need all the help you can get. You need me. I can help you help her keep safe and healthy!" He paused, before his eyes lit up. "I can't have my goddaughter getting hurt again." Everyone looked at him weirdly. Goddaughter?

"How about you hand her over and you'll still be able to fly." Dabi threatened, blue flames engulfing his hands. Hawks laughed again. He was right. It wasn't Enji who giving you those nasty burns, it was Dabi. "If something happens to me, I have enough evidence gathered against you" he pointed to Dabi, "and then cops will get involved and maybe take away Y/n away."

The threat of someone taking you away from them, made their heart drop. Rei, who had been previously sobbing, put a hand on Dabi's shoulder, telling him to calm down.

Hawks grinned at Enji, raising his eyebrows. "So what will it be, Endeavour?"

Enji understood the ultimatum Hawks was giving him. Either let him in the family or risk losing you to the authorities. And he knew Hawks wasn't one to make empty threats.

Enji's eyes snapped to you. You were trying to bury yourself into Hawks chest, trying to hide from them. He wasn't that mad at you for running, more worried if anything. Had his family really spooked you that much? He'll have to worry about that later. First he needs to get you back into his and Rei's arms.

Enji sighed, before nodding. "Fine. We'll do it your way."

Hawks beamed at that. "Great!" He was glad that Enji had accepted. "Now, you need to take Y/n in before she catches a cold; although I'm certain she already has. Oh and tend to her bloody feet too! Poor thing was just running around barefoot." He chuckled. Shotou moved forward to take you from Hawks but you clung tightly to Hawks shoulders.

"Please. Please. Just take me out of here. Please." You whispered to him, fresh tears pricking your eyes now.

You looked so scared. Your eyes were saucer wide, nose red from cold and cheeks flush. Fear. That was were you emitting. But the longer he looked at your face, he found something else too. Hope. Innocence. Naivety. And while fear was the predominant emotion, the latter were the ones that he wanted to protect. "Hawks." Enji's voice broke him out from his trance. Hawks smiled. Addressing you, he started rubbing soothing circles to your back. "Hey. Hey. Its okay, princess." You kept on crying, your eyes begging him to whisk you away anywhere but here. You looked so much like him when he was little. So afraid. "Listen, do you remember what I promised you?" You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. You're so endearing. "I promised you that I'll never let anyone hurt you again, didn't I?" You nodded slowly. "I intent on keep that promise, dove. Infact I'll talk to your dad tonight! But you need to go in and take warm bath. I don't want you getting sick, okay?"

You had seemed to calm down as you slowly nodded and let him hand you over to Shotou, who quickly ushered you in, with Natsuo, Rei and Fuyumi quickly following behind, leaving Hawks with Dabi and Enji.

"Lets go to your office, Endeavour! I have to go over some details as Y/n's new godfather." Enji nodded and went inside to go to his home office. Hawks was about to follow but was stopped by Dabi. "What game are you playing, you freak?" 

Hawks chuckled, before swiftly pulling out a very sharp feather and pressing it against Dabi's jugular. "I'm just here to make sure that no one hurts Y/n again. And if I see another scorch mark on her, I'll find you and carve your skin into ribbons."

I will be accepting requests and asks for godfather hawks and Todoroki clan!

Oh and don't worry, I'm working on part 2 of rei hurting the reader. It'll be done soon! :)

[americaswritings]

Invisible

Warnings: Angst, Insecurity & Self-doubt, Language

Summary: The reader stays with Tom and his friends during quarantine. To protect her from media and fans, the reader can’t been seen in any social media posts. It leads to her feeling more and more lonely and isolated until she can’t take it anymore.

Words: 2.6k 

Pairings: Tom Holland x reader

A/N: I wrote this when Tom hosted the marvel pub quiz, but completely forgot to post it!

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST

"That's it. Thank you for joining and taking part in the quiz! I hope you had as much fun as we did and don't forget to post your answers using the hashtag massive marvel pub quiz so we can find your answers easier. Stay safe and healthy. Bye guys!"

You watched as Tom's face disappeared and the live stream ended.

But the excitement that you had felt when you had first heared of the idea of a marvel quiz was gone. Now you just felt empty. And alone.

You knew that you were overreacting, after all Tom and the others were just a few rooms away, but you couldn't help and feel left out. Again.

You weren't invited to join the live stream in the first place so why join them know?

You knew that Tom only wanted to protect you and himself by keeping you out of the public's eye. If they found out that a female in his age was spending the time during quarantine at his house, they would go wild. You could already imagine the headlines that would follow.

After all Tom had exerperienced how far his ‘fans’ and the media would go when a photo of him and Olivia had gone viral.

Only a few blurry images and both Tom and Olivia had been attacked for weeks, even so far that the girl had to make her instagram private, yet the hate comments never stopped.

And Tom knew that he would never risk the chance of you having to read through pages of hate comments of people that didn't even know you. Because if they did, they knew they could never hate you.

You were kind and loving and you cared a little too deeply.

Tom still remembered when you had called him crying, because you didn't feel confident enough to go out after some girls in your class had made it their mission to target all your insecurities and make mean comments whenever you passed them.

He still remembered the anger and hate he felt inside of him when he listened to your sobbing and how the girl's words had gotten to you, to the point you even believed them.

So when you had moved in with him and the boys, he had decided to keep you out of everything that could reveal to the world that you were living with them. You had agreed without a second doubt, because in that moment it seemed the only rational and responsible thing to do.

Now you weren't so sure anymore, because it hurt so much to be invisible every day. You had gotten used to the fact that you could only watch their instagram stories, live streams and tik toks without being able to join them. But what hurt you even more were the little things.

"Hey y/n, could you leave the room for a sec? You are always in the background of the video!"

A second often turned into hours and soon you found yourself retreating to your room more and more to avoid having to leave and get hurt again.

Yesterday you had decided to do a little game night and you felt so carefree that you came to the conclusion that you were being ridiculous and should rather enjoy the time with them instead of obsessing over your feelings. But then you had laughed over something that had been said and Tom has sighed, dropping his phone.

"Great, now I have to delete that, because you were laughing in the background", he stated, clearly frustrated and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.

"I'm sorry", you mumbled but it sounded more like a question than a sincere apologzy, because really, what where you even apologizing for? Harrsion had leaned over to get a better look at Tom's phone. "That would have been a great post, mate!"

You adverted your eyes, starring at the table and analysing the natural pattern of the wood to try and distract yourself from the embarassment and the tears that had filled your eyes. "I know right", Tom sighed again and you crounched down in your seat even more.

"I will do that again now so you have to be completely quiet now y/n, got it?

You wanted to scream at them, because you weren't dumb and yet they were treating you like a child that had misbehaved and was now lectured. But you only gulped and nodded, fearing that if you said something, your voice would break and reveal how hurt you really felt.

While they recorded the story again, you listened to their loud laughter as you fought back the tears.

Eventually you excued yourself, mumbling something about having a headache, but you doubted that they even noticed.

Now you could hear them laugh again and even though Tom's laugh was one of your favorite sounds, it now cut deeper into your heart like a knife. 

You were still staring at your phone screen where you saw photos of answer sheets already popping up. You had gotten around 20 answers right, but you didn't feel proud.

When Tom had told you about the marvel quiz you had been beyond excited. Since you could remember you loved the marvel movies. Your rooms had been filled with posters and other merchandise and your friends only rolled their eyes when you suggested to watch a marvel movie during your movie nights.

You had build your knowdlege over the years and loved to challenge Tom, who thought of himself as a big marvel fan as well, regarding who knew more about the marvel cinematic universe.

So when he came up with the idea of a marvel live quiz, you insisted to take part and therefore hear the questions for the first time during the stream so you had the same chance as everyone else.

But as soon as Harry and Harrison had joined the live stream your enthusiasm had faded. They were having so much fun and you were sitting in your room, all on your own. The familiar feeling of loneliness and self doubt had accompained you the rest of the live stream and now that it had ended you just wanted to crawl under the covers and weep into your pillow.

Maybe you were clingy and needy and overthinking again, but you couldn't help the overwhelming sadness and you began to doubt if staying with Tom was a mistake and if your friendship meant more to you than the others.

Maybe you should pack your things tomorrow and tell Tom that you needed to go home. He would understand if you claimed to miss the comfort of being at your home but then again, you would be even more lonely.

Frustrated you threw your phone on the nightstand and quickly changed into your pajamas before crawling into bed.

In the darkness of the room the disappointment felt even more overwhelming and you grabbed onto your pillow for comfort.

A knock made you freeze and your heart started pouding in your chest. You prayed that the person would leave you alone and go away if you pretended to be asleep so you stayed silent.

"Y/n?"

It was Tom's voice.

"We want to watch a movie. Wanna join us?"

You knew that he wouldn't go away until the got an answer so you dismissed your plan and braced yourself to speak.

"No, I am tired, but thanks." You hoped that Tom didn't notice how nervous you sounded and after an agonizing moment of silence you could hear him mutter an "okay" and walk away.

Did you imagine it or did he sound disapppointed? Now feeling guilty too, you covered your face in your hands in frustration.

Why did everything have to go wrong?

And wait...did you still have your make-up on?

You let out a sound of frustration when you realized that you had to get up again to wipe off your make-up. You had applied it because you wanted to feel your best during the quiz you had been so excited for, but now it meant walking all the way to the bathroom.

Which meant leaving your room again.

You slowly opened your door, peeking out to check if the corridors were empty. You proceeded to tiptoe to the bathroom and closed the door behind you while relief flooded you. You really didn't want to meet anyone now, not when you felt like breaking into tears every second.

When you looked into the mirror and began to wash your make-up off, you allowed yourself to let the tears flow. A few sobs escaped your mouth, but the bathroom was far enough from the living room so they wouldn't be able to hear you.

Without the make-up on, you felt a little more relaxed and you couldn't wait to get into bed again.

But when you reached your room without running into anyone on the way, you were more than surprised to see that once you had closed the door and turned around, you weren't alone.

Tom was sitting on your bed, looking up at you when you entered the room.

You could conclude from the frown that covered his face that you looked as horrible as you felt. Your eyes were probably still puffy and red from the crying and your hair was in a messy bun.

"Tom?", you stuttered, too shocked to come up with something that would save you from this conversation. "What are you doing here?", you added, hating how weak your voice sounded.

His frown grew even deeper and he mustered your apperance, hurt visible in his eyes.

"You were so excited for the quiz so when you didn't leave your room I grew worried", he explained while you akwardly stood next to the door, leaving as much space between the two of you as possible.

"Oh that- I just didn't feel good so I decided to sleep early today", you tried to brush it off, but you knew that Tom would not fall for it.

"Why have you been crying?"

His question was acommpanied by a stern gaze and you couldn't help feeling guilty and ashamed.

"I- I wasn't", you stuttered, but it didn't even sound believable to your own ears. Tom raised his eyebrow, but when he saw how uncomfortable you looked his features softened.

"Hey, you can talk to me, you know that right? Whatever it is, you can tell me and we can figure this out together." His voice was so gentle and caring that tears filled your eyes again and you silently cursed yourself for being so emotional.

You didn't want to cry in front of Tom. It would not be the first time and when it had happened he had always managed to make you feel better and put a smile on your face again, but you also knew the shame that would follow afterwards.

You didn't want him to think that you were too sensitive.

But the tears weren't only a result of your hurt, no, anger was building inside of you at his words. "Really Tom, really?", you snapped and he flinched in surprise.

"Are you sure you want me to talk to you? Maybe someone is filming an instagram story and I could be heard in the background so I should just say nothing at all. Or even better, why don't I just leave the room so there is a lesser chance that I could ruin your precious masterpieces by just existing."

Tom's eyes had widened at your outburst and you actually felt bad for a second, but then you remembered the many occasions he had made you feel like you weren't good enough and the anger came back.

"You know what? I think it would be best if I just went home. I am done being treated like an outsider and being blamed for everything I do!"

Tom had jumped up from the bed and was crossing the distance between the two of you with large steps, but you raised your hands before he could come closer to you.

"Y/n I am so sorry", he stumbled over his words, desperately trying to find the right words. "I didn't realize- I never would have..." Frustrated he ran a hand through his hair.

"Listen, I screwed up! I didn't realize that my behaviour- that I was hurting you and I am so sorry! I just wanted to protect you and now I am the one making you feel this way. Fuck, I am so sorry!"

His words seemed geniune and your heart ached to step forward and pull him into a hug, but you knew that you could not forget so easily.

"I didn't think that this was so important to you. Why didn't you say anything?" He was rubbing the back of his head, seemingly tensed.

"I don't care much about not being in the stories Tom. But it really hurt whenever I am send away so you can film together or when I am told to shut up so I can't be heard while you all have fun together”, you explained, trying to keep your vice even.

“I just feel like I am a burden to you and if you don't want to spend time with me that's fine I guess but I would appreciate for you to tell me that so I can stop trying and just go home."

"No, no, no it's not like that I swear!” Tom seemed desperate again, articulating with his hands to underline his words.

“I miss spending time with you, I really do and it was stupid of me to let myself being dragged into this whole instagram thing!

You know I am normally not the person to care much about posting, but I thought now that everyone is stuck at home, I could make my fans happy and distract them from the situation by sharing more of my life. I should have never put them before you and I am truly sorry!” You could see the regret clearly in his eyes as he took in a deep breath. 

“Please don't go."

You were biting your lip as you were trying your best to stay calm and not break into tears. You had imagined confronting Tom and letting all your anger and hurt out, but now that he stood in front of you with his eyes full of hurt and regret and his pleading words for you to stay, your anger vanished.

"Are you sure?", you asked him in uncertainty, because you knew you couldn't bare if nothing would change. But Tom desperately nodded. "I am. Tomorrow I am going to post a photo to let my fans now that I am taking a break from social media!"

He looked so determined, so sure, that a warm feeling filled you. "You would do that?"

"Of course! I want to make it up to you and besides I was not lying when I said that I miss spending time with you”, he stated, stepping a little closer to you when you didn’t protest anymore.

“You were so distant the last days and I didn't know what to do, so I thought that I should give you space. Seems like that is the last thing I should have done", he sayed with a sheepish smile covering his face.

"Sorry for being so caught up in myself. I should have said something earlier too", you admitted, a small smile forming on your lips, when you felt the burden fall off your shoulders.

"Hug?", Tom suggested and you didn't have to think twice about it.

When he wrapped his strong arms around you, you realized that going back to your place would have been a mistake. Because at some point your home hadn't been a place anymore. Instead it had become a person and you didn't plan on letting go any time soon.

----

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[sagendipity]

the law of attraction: de minimis

a quackity x reader law school au

part one, chapter one

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.

The first myth about law school is that everyone is the same.

In movies, in TV shows, in books- everyone in law school is a certain type of person. Dangerously smart, hardworking to a fault, and absolutely cutthroat.

Now, that is true. To get this far, to get into a competitive law school and make it to your final year, you have to be all of the above. Smart, hardworking, and just a little cunning. It’s impossible to get a leg up unless you’re standing on someone else’s knee.

Or neck.

However, the fact that everyone here has to have a certain few traits in order to survive does not mean that they cannot have other traits.

Some are louder, exuberant, and competitive- the type to yell out the answer to a question before raising their hand, the type to go back and forth with the professor when they’re sure they’re right (and they’re not). There’s the introverts, the sly ones you never see coming, who you barely notice next to you all year until you glance over at the grade on their final and it’s a 110%, somehow.

Of course, there’s also the in-between. The respectable ones, the students that are just there to get through the classes they need and get a respectable job at a respectable law firm and make something nice out of their lives.

Or the hero type, the ones that are convinced they can fix any injustice they perceive in the world- the environmental lawyers, the criminal defense lawyers, the civil rights lawyers. They might be right, too, which is why it seems like a never-ending flow of them are pouring into the school at each orientation.

It’s not always as simple as that, of course. You, like many students, are a mix of a few types. You lie somewhere between the exuberant and introverted sides, not shy about answering questions in lectures, but not jumping the gun to cause discourse, either. A bit of a hero type, you must admit, but you do pride yourself on being reasonable when it comes to your life’s expectations. You don’t expect to become some William Kunstler. You work hard, you get shit done, and like law school has a tendency to do, it seems to become your whole entire life.

The type of person you never quite got a read on is Alex.

He’s been sitting next to you in your upper level criminal procedure class for the entire semester. A whole semester’s worth of lectures means you have plenty of time to observe and analyze the people in your classes- its not like there’s anything else to do when the professor is going over voir dire for the third hour that week.

You pegged the kid in the third row as a die-hard businessman. He’s not going into law to help people, he’s going into law to make the most profit off of the most vulnerable clients he can find. The girl in row six, however, is definitely the hero type, judging by her “save the oceans” stickers on her giant re-usable coffee cups.

Alex, though, you can’t read. He dresses down compared to the other students. They dress up to hide their shortcomings, like their fancy coats can stop them from feeling bad about their less-than-adequate qualifications for the internship they just applied for. Others just like to lean into the New York City aesthetic and dress like they’re already lawyers, even despite failing their last midterm. You fall into that category- you can’t help it, it’s a fun look- but hey, you definitely didn’t fail your midterm, and you’ve lived in New York your whole life, so you think you have the right to dress like that.

Alex dresses like he has nothing to hide. He dresses like the young, high-level professor who is always cracked out on Redbull and hasn’t graded a paper in his life; like the cute, fascinating barista at the local hipster coffee shop you can barely afford. He dresses like that one guy you’d see on the subway one day and never manage to forget because of how his eyes met yours for a split second.

To be fair, that is kind of how it’s gone. It’s not exactly like the two of you met on the subway, and you’ve definitely interacted more than just a passing glance, but goddammit is Alex stuck in your head.

You convince yourself it’s just because he’s such a mystery. It’s not because he has really sweet brown eyes, or the most charming, unruly hair you’ve seen this side of the Midwest. It’s not because he whispers a joke under his breath whenever your professor says something stupid, or because he bumps your ankles together and shares an amused glance with you when that one really annoying kid pipes up with an opinion no one wanted.

It’s just because you don’t know why he’s here, and you don’t know what he wants, and you don’t know how to read him.

It bugs you. It gets under your skin- not like an itch, more like a hum. He’s on the back of your mind constantly, like you’re trying to subconsciously figure out what’s up with him, but to this day you’ve had no success.

It’s not like you think about anything substantial in regards to him- every time your traitorous brain brings him up, you put it down quicker than it came up. Getting attached to people is dangerous in the best of circumstances, but getting attached to the absolute enigma of a guy in your criminal procedure class who you can’t even confidently say is named Alex would be equivalent to signing up for heartbreak.

“Don’t date law boys,” your roommate had lamented after she had done just that, laid across her rose-pink bedspread with a sleeve of crackers clutched in one hand and a tissue in the other. She had then blown her nose unattractively. “Lawyers have a reputation for being soulless for a reason. They’re only here for themselves. Fuck them.”

Despite that, you find yourself friends with Alex. As if you’d be able to resist the self-satisfied grins he flashes at you when the professor praises him for a particularly poignant answer, or the way he holds his hand out under the table for a high-five after you nail the answer to a cold call. You barely know anything about him, and yet, you know enough to decide he’s a good person.

“Alex”, whose name you’re only about 80% sure of- maybe it’s short for Alexander, but you thought you’d heard someone he was on the phone with call him Q, so maybe he’s a Quinn or a Quentin?

“Alex”, who shows up looking more comfortable than you’ve been in your entire life, and still manages to hold an air of confidence around him that you’d not be able to master even in your finest long coat and shirt.

“Alex”, who seems determined to wiggle his way into your heart in any way he can.

“Alex”, who you seem to be powerless to resist.

.

This growing attachment to Alex of yours is only strengthened with each lecture. You share this class three times a week, two hours each on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It’s a focus class, meaning that anyone who wants to go into criminal work should take this course. It’s challenging, it’s competitive, and it’s cutthroat.

And it’s only February.

A cold Monday morning in February, in fact, with the clock above your professor’s desk ticking obnoxiously as the big hand nears the 8. Outside, it’s downright miserable: windy and foggy. The outside of the paneled windows of the classroom are glazed in a sticky frost, reducing the figures of passing students to dull blobs as they hurry through the whipping wind to get to their classes.

The big doors at the back of the classroom close with a bang that reverberates throughout the lecture hall, cutting through the murmuring chatter of the students who are already here. Out of the corner of your eye you catch a flash of green- as you suspect, it’s Alex. He always takes the seat on the very end of the row, and you the one immediately to his right. You look up at him with what you hope is a casual smile, but the one he returns is so bright it could probably melt the frost off of the windows.

“Hey!” he says, too awake for 8 in the morning, and sets his binder down on the desk with a clatter. The whoosh of air rustles the paper of your notebook, which you smooth back down habitually. You watch Alex longer than you should, only tearing your gaze away after you notice the smattering of tiny snowflakes that have gathered atop the beanie he’s wearing.

You stifle a little laugh. This guy wears a beanie to law school.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he settles into his seat. He shrugs off his hunter green jacket, leaving him in just a gray hoodie, dotted with darker spots from melting snowflakes that’d been blown into him. He drops his outer jacket across his lap just as the room goes silent, your professor walking up to his desk.

As the last tails of conversations die off, you turn to Alex, unable to help yourself, “You have… snowflakes, on your head.”

He glances at you, a little huff of laughter escaping him as he brings up a hand to smooth over the beanie. The snowflakes are swiped off, melting on the heat of his hand- you wonder how it would feel held in yours, probably warm, he looks like he runs hot- and you pry your eyes away as he straightens out his beanie and tucks his hair up into the brim of it. He misses a strand, and the black swoop stands out sharply against the frost-paled skin of his face.

“Happy February,” your professor begins, his microphone crackling to life. “The month of love, is it not? Just two weeks until Valentines day.”

He swings his bag up onto the stool next to him, the sound echoing through the microphone. He turns to face the lecture hall, arms spread as if welcoming you all to a talk show.

“I’m about to ruin all of your Valentines Day plans. Welcome to the start of your final project: the mock trial.”

.

[petiteoat]

Things I wish I had known about Recovery

It is the hardest thing you’ll ever do, it’s more difficult than starving, fasting or counting calories, it hurts more than hunger pangs and dizziness; it brings to light every ounce of self loathing you have and you can’t just starve it away anymore but learn how to sit with the pain

On that note, if you’re asking yourself “am I even sick enough to have anything to recover from?” the answer is 100 per cent yes, because healthy people do not have to ask themselves those questions. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been enduring this, whether you’ve lost fifty lbs or your weight hasn’t changed - eating disorders are a mental illness, not a physical one.

That being said, you can’t have one foot in recovery and one foot within your eating disorder. Trust me, I tried. All it does is create a hellish purgatory where you’re not losing weight but you’re hungry all the time and all you can ever think about is food and numbers and macros and weight and meal times and miles walked and your body.

When you first start recovering you’re going to experience a terrifying level of hunger, you’ll eat full meals and it won’t even touch the sides. You’ll wonder how you ever managed to get through the day eating so little, and you’ll try countless times to curb your insatiable appetite. However the very difficult truth is that the only way to get rid of extreme hunger is to - you guessed it - eat.

Eat when you first wake up, don’t worry about chugging a litre of water. Eat snacks for no reason, eat junk food, eat because someone else is, eat when you’re hungry and when you’re full and when you’re bored and when you’re angry and when you’re scared. Eat. Eat the meal your mother made for you and cherish the taste, remember how much you loved her cooking when you were a kid. When your jeans don’t fit anymore, eat. When someone makes a comment about your weight, eat. There is no way to escape the insatiable hunger your body feels because you have been starving it for so long.

You will be confronted with the harsh reality of how sick you are. This is particularly prevalent for those of you in denial - like I was. I told myself it was all ironic, that I could stop at any time, that I even ran a fucking thinspo blog ironically because I wasn’t like everyone else, I wasn’t stupid or skinny enough to actually develop an eating disorder in my late teens. Instead every day I had to endure my suddenly overwhelming thoughts regarding food, and there was no escaping it.

You’ll start to realise how frequently normal people engage in disordered behaviours or ways of speaking. You’ll have to watch your colleague drink the black coffee that you tried so hard to pretend to like. You’ll listen to aunts, sisters, cousins, brag about their new diet or talk about how bad they’ve been for eating. You’ll listen to guys talk enviously about some other girl who is super skinny. You have to rise above it.

The alternative to recovery, of course, is death. Maybe not today or tomorrow or even in ten years. Perhaps you’ll live to the ripe old age of ninety. I wonder how your body will look then? Will you have children sat by your death bed - could you endure the horror of being fat and pregnant? I wonder how much you’ll weigh? Will you look back on your life and feel an immeasurable sense of pride because against all the odds you’ve had a thigh gap to die for. You missed out on the birthday cakes, on christmas dinner, on going to the movies with your partner and your hands touching over a bowl of popcorn. You sacrificed years of your life to running, walking, starving, starving, so hungry you think you’ll die - but you didn’t, except one day you will.

Despite it all, how infuriatingly difficult recovery is; if I could go back to my lowest weight and run my hands over my ribs, admire my teeny waist and collar bones; I would choose recovery every single time, because I am myself again - after fucking years of living as a ghost I can proudly say I actually exist and have thoughts outside of food and I promise you it is possible to be fully recovered, but you have to eat.

[imkylotrash]

What Goes Around

Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader

Request: Could I please request an imagine/fic with Hardin Scott x Reader and basically Hardin of course has his bad boy reputation but this intrigues the reader. She is his complete opposite and finds his rudeness quite funny. Hardin is a little too mean to her one time and makes her cry. It doesn’t occur to Hardin that she likes him and by that point he feels like he has lost his chance to get to know her because of his.. ‘wicked’ charm? You can choose the ending. Anonymous

Tagging: @bitchwhytho​ @music-of-melody​​

He’s watching you give your coffee order and it makes you smile. Everywhere you go, you seem to run into each other. At first, you’d just steal glances then go your separate ways but then it turned into “hello”. He made the first move and asked if you should have your coffee together one day. Ever since than you’d made polite conversation when you ran into each other and you had to admit that something intrigued you about the tattooed boy who refused to care about anyone other than himself. You couldn’t exactly relate to his perspective on life but you wanted to know more, to understand the boy who considered the world a cruel place rather than an opportunity to happy days. 

“This seat taken?” you ask standing with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. The “Red Queen” series have become something of an obsession for you after finishing the first book. You never thought you’d stray from the classics but lately, YA books had been catching your eye. 

“I see you’re still on the third book,” he smiles and in the same moment letting you know how he feels about YA books. You don’t take it too hard considering he’s not even willing to admit his love for books for anyone other than you. 

“I’m taking my time and enjoying the words.” You have a tendency to get too invested and rush through a book to get to the ending meaning you miss a lot of the little Easter eggs along the way. You’re trying to change that. 

“Hey, no judgement from me.” He’s lying but it’s a cute lie so you’ll allow it. Once you’ve finished your coffee, you stand up grabbing your things. You have exactly ten minutes before your class start but you like to get there early in case you need to do some last-minute preparations. Hardin remains seated and you remain neutral in regards to his lack of motivation when it comes to college. 

I’ll be going classes now. Want to come?” Okay, maybe not that neutral. He shakes his head smiling and you know what that means. It takes three days before you run into him again. This time at the library where you reach for the same book which sounds completely absurd and something that would only happen in one of your books. It’s a cute moment though. 

“I guess great minds think alike,” you say and he scoffs.

“Please. You wish you were as clever as me.” He offers you the book about to sit down when he spots some of his friends outside. You know he’s been a little vague about who you are considering just how different you are to them and frankly, you don’t mind. Hardin is an interesting character because there’s more to him than just the casual alcoholic teen while the people he surrounds himself with at those frat parties really don’t have much else going on for them. You went one time and you’d never been more bored in your life. 

“I should go,” he says Within minutes he’s out the door walking in the direction away from his “friends”. After that you don’t spot him for a while or maybe he’s avoiding you to avoid the questions his friends will inevitable have. Either way, you find yourself missing his sarcastic comments. You hadn’t realised just how much of an impression he’d made on you until he wasn’t around. But he comes back to you eventually. 

“Hey,” he says when he spots you at the coffee house. 

“I thought you’d moved city,” you tease pushing out the chair across from you with your foot. He sits down sliding a book across the table. 

“As an apology,” he grins. You turn the book over to see the cover and you can’t help but smile. 

“You remembered.” One of the first conversations between you and Hardin had been about ecocriticism and a book called “The Road” that you’d borrowed from the library more times than you could count. You’d discussed the topic in class where your professor had recommended this book and now Hardin had gotten it for you. 

“You wouldn’t shut up about the book for at least five hours. How could I not?” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal but it still means a lot to you. Now you could read the book whenever you felt like it. And he’d gotten the original cover rather than the movie cover. It would’ve been the perfect gift if his friends hadn’t shown up and ruined everything. You see the change in him the second they enter the coffee house. 

“Hardin, who’s this?” Jace asks with hungry eyes making you feel incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Just a friend,” Hardin offers not wanting to give any information to these people. 

“Sure, friend. Do you feel the same way, honey?” Jace asks making the rest of the guys snicker. Before you have a chance to answer, Hardin opens his mouth and ruins everything. 

“Yes, friend. I mean look at her. Not exactly my type, is it? I mean, could it get anymore vanilla?” This earns him a high five from one of the guys but it cracks your heart. You’ve never thought much about your close or the way you looked because you thought the inside counted a hell of a lot more than the outside. But hearing that the idea of being with you seemed so ludicrous hurt more than you liked to admit. 

“I should get going.” You don’t look at Hardin when you leave and you don’t bring the book with you. If this is how he thinks of you then you don’t want anything from him. And it’s not even the fact that he considers you a friend. If that’s all it was, you’d be fine. It’s how easy it was for him to degrade you that really hurt. You tell yourself you won’t cry but it’s a lost battle as you head home. Unfortunately, you don’t reach home before he catches up to you.

“Leave me alone, Hardin,” you say picking up the pace. You’re determined to reach your apartment without stopping but of course, you can’t help yourself when it’s Hardin.

“Are you mad at me?” 

“Mad at you? Of course, I’m mad at you!” you yell not caring who hears you at this point.

“You of all people should realise what it’s like to be judged on the way you look. I like the way I look and I absolutely refuse to let you make me feel bad about it!” You don’t care if he said it because of his friends or not, it’s the fact that it came to him so easily. That means he’s thought it before regardless of the situation at the coffee house. 

“It was a joke!” he yells back opting for defensive rather than just apologise. You’re not doing this. You turn around and this time he doesn’t follow you. It’s weeks before you dare return to the coffee house. You don’t want to meet him again. Instead you dive head first into the universe of Jane Austen thinking he could’ve been your Mr. Darcy with his sour attitude and soft spot for you but it didn’t turn out that way. But your need for good coffee eventually win over your fear of seeing him again. The plan is in, order, pay and leave. It’s just not that simple once you’re inside. 

“You forgot this.” He places “The Road” in front of you as you’re waiting for your coffee. You can’t believe he’s held onto to it since that day. You figured he would’ve just chucked it in the bin. 

“I’m really sorry for what I said. It was rude and thoughtless. You deserve better.” It’s a good apology but you can’t help but think what the insult will be the next time his friends catch you together. 

“You’re right. I deserve better.” You get your coffee and head outside. 

“Throw me a bone here. I said I was sorry.” Of course, Hardin follows you outside refusing to let this go. 

“Hardin, you’re only sorry because I called you out on it. You don’t actually care that it hurt me.” He’s not the first guy who thought he could walk all over you and he won’t be the last but you refuse to accept that treatment. You deserve a lot better than that. 

“I’m sorry because it hurt you. I didn’t think you’d read so much into it,” he defends himself making it clear to you that it’s a pointless discussion. He’s not going to understand why what he said was hurtful despite his own appearance and the comments he’s received. 

“How could I not? I’m sitting there thinking we might have a shot and then you pull the rug out from under me. I’m not playing these games with you.” 

“What?” You don’t bother repeating yourself instead using this moment of shock to hurry away. You manage to avoid him for another week before he corners you on campus. 

“You can’t just throw something like that out in the world and then leave. It’s been going round and round in my head.” He has a hand on each side of you leaning against the wall. It’s effective for keeping you in place and distracting you from why you’re actually upset with him. 

“I never thought you’d like me like that. Shit, I would’ve done things very differently if I ever thought I had a chance.” This time you’re the one in shock. You didn’t think he’d put so much thought into what you said last time. 

“What would you have done differently?” Despite vowing to yourself that you’re done with Hardin, you find yourself curious once again. This bad boy persona with a loving man hidden inside seems like an impossible paradox.

“I would’ve kept you well clear of those idiots from the frat house. Bought you flowers maybe. Taken you to dinner. Bought you a hell of lot more books.” You don’t want to forgive him but it’s hard to think when he’s this close to you. 

“I can start now if you’d like.” He places a hand on your cheek and his touch gives you chills. You inhale sharply telling yourself not to give into him but your body has already thrown in the white towel. He leans down stopping inches from your lips. 

“I really am sorry. It won’t happen again.” Instead of answering, you lean up closing the gap between you. It’s the first kiss but definitely not the last. 

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier divorce attorney AU of my dreams (hear me out):

-Geralt doesn't have regulars. Of course, he doesn't have regulars, he's a divorce attorney, a good one at that; sure sometimes there are clients that hire him twice because of mistakes or short-lived marriages, or he will have the odd person whose ex-partner he once helped, but in his ten-year-career, he's never once had a person come to him more than twice

-He has never married. The few long-term relationships he had didn't amount to anything in that regard and perhaps his job has spoiled the whole affair for him; there's never been a need either, he has his daughter Ciri, has his horse Roach which he rides on weekends, he couldn't be more content (or so he thinks)

(-Jaskier knows that many people would and do call him a whore, an adulterer, but he isn't. He is a romantic, a fall-in-lover, a dreamer, a free spirit. Which is why he gave himself the name 'Jaskier' (much more befitting of his character than Julian, what a common name) and why he tends to end up at the altar... more often than is strictly normative)

-The first time Jaskier enters Geralt's office, he acts as though it's the beginning of a Broadway show. He walks in, stands in the middle of the room and opens his arms wide. "Good day," he twitters and flashes Geralt the brightest grin. Geralt raises his eyebrows, but he isn't about to turn away a guy who looks affluent enough he can charge him a little extra. "Hello?" - "Julian Alfred Pankratz, call me Jaskier." Jaskier settles into the chair opposite Geralt's desk and puts his leather-clad feet up on them. Geralt pushes them off and asks: "Mr. Pankratz, what can I do for you?" - "Ah yes. My lover and muse, the Countess de Stael, has left me for another. The problem is that we got married just last month and I'm afraid she is going to bleed me dry if I don't have a proper attorney. You've been recommended to me by a friend. What do you say? Help out a fool?" What? Countess? Well. "Fine," Geralt says. "Let's talk fees."

-Jaskier is a lot and when the divorce is through and all aspects of their working relationship are settled, Geralt calls his babysitter - Yen's always happy to jump in on short notice - and invites his colleagues Lambert and Eskel to get drunk. Jaskier was annoying and exhausting, constantly babbling and flirting with Geralt and, god, he never wants to see him again.

-Of course, Geralt sees him again. By the time he does - half a year after the first time - Geralt has almost forgotten about Jaskier and his stupid Countess and how utterly drained that job left him. Jaskier sounds cheerful on the phone, not at all the common cadence for Geralt's clients, and comes into the office with two Macchiatos and a box of donuts; disgruntled, but unable to say no to sugar, Geralt allows for them to have the coffee over their conversation about Jaskier's upcoming divorce and it makes it more bearable. "So," Geralt says. "Give me a rough outline of the situation." Just to be prepared. Jaskier grins, wipes a sprinkle off his lips and takes a sip of coffee. "This is going to sound ridiculous, but hear me out. So about two months after you helped me last time, the Countess de Stael gave me a call..." Geralt wants to smack the man when he is done his well-embellished tale. Jaskier is obviously being used. But he's not here to judge, he's here to do his job and Jaskier pays well.

-The third is a woman called Molly. Geralt never gets to meet her, Jaskier never talks about her, it is as though she doesn't exist as more than a job to get done, a contract to fulfill. Aside from the topic of his soon to be ex-wife, Jaskier is more talkative than usual. He asks questions about Geralt's personal life, talks about his job - of course he's a broadway performer, 'star' doesn't quite apply - lingers. Geralt finds he... doesn't mind this time. It's nice to socialize for a bit, even if it is within the general bounds of his job. Jaskier makes him laugh somehow.

-"You should give me a discount," Jaskier jokes when he's there to leave a paycheck for Geralt for the fourth time (that Countess again, Geralt doesn't understand how they got married three times in a span of two years (in addition to that Molly woman)). "I don't give out discounts," Geralt replies. - "Why not? I'm a loyal customer, you should have a system for this." - "Mr. Pankratz, do you realize that you are the only person I know who goes through this many marriages in such a short amount of time?" - "Always knew I was special," Jaskier laughs and leaves with a small wave.

-"Okay, Geralt, what the hell?" Lambert asks, strutting in after Jaskier's gone with a bad temper written across his face. "Who is this man? And why does he keep coming back? You know I can hear his voice from my office. So if, like, you're having some sort of strange workplace affair, cut it the fuck out." -  "He's just an idiot who keeps getting married," Geralt says and waves Lambert away. He doesn't add that he kind of starts to miss the idiot.

-Priscilla is very nearly a different story, something Geralt only finds out after the fact. Jaskier breaks down before their court appointment, sobbing into Geralt's shoulder that he can't do it, he can't let her go, why doesn't she want him; by that point Geralt has known Jaskier for almost four years and the thought of him staying in a marriage for longer than half of one makes him queasy, gives him little bursts of pain against his breastbone; in truth, he's glad Priscilla's leaving Jaskier, antsy that it took almost a year for them to split up; she approaches him after the divorce is through, while Jaskier's in the courthouse bathroom crying his eyes out. "Tell him I'm sorry," Priscilla says and Geralt scowls at her. "Tell him I wouldn't have left him if I didn't have to. Tell him to wait for me." She leaves and Geralt doesn't even know why he should be the one to relay that message to Jaskier and so he doesn't. Jaskier never mentions her again.

-The sixth time is the Countess de Stael again and Geralt already prepared his case from the e-mail Jaskier sent ahead. The last three times all went in favour of the noblewoman who was able to protect her fortune, but Geralt thinks he can make a case for emotional manipulation and get Jaskier at least a sizable indemnity. "Mr. Pankratz," Geralt says when Jaskier comes for their appointment.  "Are you ever going to call me Jaskier?" Jaskier replies with a sigh and drops into the chair. His hair is tousled, there are deep half-moons under his eyes which look like he spent the whole night crying. Geralt's heart feels bruised, but he can't get involved dammit. "That would be inappropriate," he grunts. They get to work and Jaskier walks out with a broken-heart and a swollen bank account.

-"When will you give up on that woman?" Geralt asks when Jaskier saunters into his office one Friday, not three months after the last divorce. It's late afternoon and Geralt's ready for a weekend of watching Disney movies with Ciri, but Jaskier's always a sight for sore eyes these days. Not for the first time does Geralt consider asking him out for coffee, but the fact that he's only ever seeing Geralt because he's in need of a(nother) divorce somehow poses a barrier. "Now that is not very professional of you. To answer your question: right now. That's why I'm here." And for the first time with these two, it's Jaskier that wants the divorce, Jaskier that takes the initiative. He's only ever been the one to get dumped. Geralt's up all night thinking about that.

-For an entire year, Jaskier does not return and that annoys Geralt. He finds himself fretting, distracted, hoping Jaskier will turn up with another marriage to be dealt with, but he doesn't. The thought that Jaskier might have found someone he wants to stay with makes him physically ill. His code of conduct forbids him from using Jaskier's contact info though. Maybe this is for the best and anyway, Geralt is down to earth while Jaskier is... well, Jaskier. An emotional roller-coaster. He has his daughter and his horse and all is well. Only it isn't because Geralt managed to fall in love with Jaskier. (When Lambert and Eskel find out they laugh at him for two hours straight)

-Jaskier does turn up eventually, but not to get divorced again. He waits outside the building where Geralt works with two cups of coffee in hand and a tired smile. Geralt lets himself be led to a nearby bench, lets Jaskier speak. "I considered proposing to random strangers just to have another botched marriage for you to get me out of," Jaskier says. "But that would have been rather inconsiderate and there are easier ways to see you." - "I thought you might have found one that sticks," Geralt replies, tracing the rim of his coffee cup with a finger. "I might have."  Jaskier winks at Geralt and Geralt decides to throw caution to the wind. He leans over and kisses Jaskier's lips, then mutters, "I don't ever want to see you in my office again." - "And here I thought that your desk would make such a great hmph..." Geralt shuts him up with another kiss. It feels right.