#but mostly it boils down to “it's fucking amazing and now one of my favourite things”

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

Only For You - h.s.

Summary: H is usually pretty in tune with his body, but he’s apparently not very good at picking up when he’s getting sick. 

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: mentions of covid, plus me taking a guess at how covid testing in the US and at events works so sorry for any potential inaccuracies, I mostly used my knowledge of Aus but honestly its described all very generally

A/N: this took longer than I thought it was going to because I started and then got sick a couple days in :/ I’m still sick but she is done! If you have any requests pls send them my way!

Masterlist  ///  Send me an ask!

Harry is never sick.

He was so strict in his fitness and health, his immune system was better than almost anyone’s you knew. You were pretty sure someone could cough directly into his mouth and it would somehow boost his immune system by giving it a chance to exercise. There had to be fifty times over the course of your relationship so far you were sure you were going to pass on whatever illness you had acquired at the time. You always waited patiently for the other shoe to drop, for him to exhibit your exact symptoms and to be awash with guilt at his sickly state, but it never did.

It is such a rare occurrence, in fact, that he can tell you exactly the last time he came down with something. It was August 2019, he was in LA, and he had ended up missing two Fine Line album release related meetings. He remembered it because you had been in New York, tied up in projects of your own. You had pushed your flight up as a surprise to get home and take care of him, but by the time you touched down he had already been on the mend, and was sat in a rescheduled meeting when you opened the door to your shared home.

He could not recall, however, the earliest warning signs of a flu coming on, having experienced them so infrequently.

He dismissed the heavy tired feeling that had settled upon him, certain it was simply the aftereffects of intensive Grammy rehearsals. True to his perfectionist tendencies, he had been tireless in his efforts to make this one of his best performances and had been spending hours practicing a song you were pretty sure he could nail in his sleep. You said nothing of the fact that you thought he perhaps was spending more time than strictly necessary on this, of course, never wanting to undermine his process or invalidate his feelings of being under intense pressure. You just assured him you thought he was amazing and provided opinions and input whenever he asked it of you. He was overworking himself, but he was not deterred until the lights went down after his extremely successful (and extremely sexy, if you did say so yourself) performance.

Two days later, he was sure his hangover had extended over into a second day as he become aware of a dull ache in his head while awaking from his slumber. He groaned, rubbing his face as he rolled towards you, pulling you against his chest. He breathed deeply, cursing himself for drinking so much and sleeping so little only momentarily before thinking, hey, how many times do you win a Grammy? You stirred at his movement, eyes fluttering open only slightly before you shut them again and snuggled deeper into his chest. You sighed in contentment, loving nothing more than the comfortable feeling you can only get waking up in the morning, still on the edge of sleep. It had always been one of your favourite things, and it was only ever made better by waking up in Harry’s arms.

“I hate getting old,” he mutters into your hair, pressing a kiss where his lips had tickled your forehead.

“What?” You laughed at his unsolicited statement.

“Two-day hangovers are supposed to be reserved for after you hit thirty. But clearly, I’m older than I think I am because they have come for me and I am not enjoying it.”

You wriggled up in his embrace, so that you were face to face, giggling at him as you did say. “Oh god, do you think we should start thinking about retiring?”

“You’re supposed to tell me I’m not old!” He tightened his grip on you as he exclaimed in indignation.

“I mean what can I possibly say, H? Two-day hangover? You’ve basically got a foot in the grave,” you jested, but leaned in to peck his cheek at his faux sour expression.

In response, he released his grip on you and rolled away until he was at the very opposite edge of the bed in a big huff. You only laughed harder at his antics. You followed him to his side of the bed, wrapping your arms around him from behind and placing gentle kisses to the side of his neck.

“Darling, have you considered, maybe, just maybe, this two day hangover has nothing to do with the fact that you are getting older and more to do with the fact that you were working yourself to the bone for a month and then partied like the world was ending?” You pressed another lingering kiss to his neck. “Or perhaps like someone who had just won a Grammy?” A smile broke over your face at the memory, a fresh wave of pride washing through you, somehow still managing to leave you buzzing.

“Nope, I refuse to hear that. My youthful body is supposed to be stronger than any party, even an I-just-won-a-Grammy party.” You snorted in his ear, completely unsurprised by his steadfast stubbornness.

“Alright then old man,” you rolled away from him and hopped out of bed.

“Hey,” he called out, both at the jab and your exit from bed.

“Since my big shot Grammy winning, senior citizen boyfriend is still feeling a bit dusty I suppose I’ll bring him a coffee in bed,” you sing out over your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen, craving the caffeine yourself.

He knew you were making fun of him to highlight how melodramatic you thought he was being. Each comment about him being old was really made to tell him just how young he was and how little you thought he had to worry about.

He sighed, wanting nothing more than to remain motionless in the warm comfy bed but having no choice to get up and make his way to the bathroom before he could enjoy his coffee in bed. (And maybe some lazy morning sex, he was sure that would help relieve some symptoms). His whole body felt heavy as he rolled out of bed, his limbs and shoulders feeling almost as though they were made of lead.

His brow scrunched as he slowly made his way to the toilet to relieve himself. This really was some day two hangover, he thought. I don’t care what y/n thinks, I’m pretty sure this is one of those moments where you realise your prime is coming to an end.

He flinched as the sunlight pouring in through the frosted glass of the bathroom window hit his face, instantly doubling the force of his headache. He grumbled and scrunched his eyes until they were nearly shut, attempting to minimise the light infiltrating his vision. He did his business as quickly as his protesting body would allow.

By the time he had returned to bed and bundled himself back under the covers the kettle had boiled and you were on your way back to your room. You shuffled along slowly, pausing every two steps to stop your nearly full mugs from spilling over the edge. Harry loved to point out the coffee drips that you left along the floor in your shared home so frequently. They were spread far and wide, and in fairness to you, most of the time you didn’t realise you had done it, else you would have wiped it up immediately.

“H?” you called softly, as you looked up from the mugs to see only a Harry sized lump under the doona as evidence that he was even there.

When you received only an, “Mmm?” in response you continued your slow spillage-avoiding pace up to his bed side table, placing the cup down gently.

“Are you feeling okay baby?” you kneeled down beside him, stroking his hair back from his face.

“Jus’ tired,” he muttered, not opening his eyes.

This shocked you somewhat. He’s always been a morning person, and never tended to sleep in two days in a row. The two of you had spent the morning in bed yesterday, having only crawled in in the (not even that) early hours of the morning and spent the rest of the day lazing about the apartment, nursing respective hangovers. Even with complaints of his hangover extending over into a second day, you had expected him to be itching to throw himself back into his routine, not curled up in bed still feeling shitty.

“You can back to sleep,” you assured, even though he seemed to already be halfway there. “Your coffee’s there if you want some.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving him to it, closing the door softly on your way out.

Two hours later, Harry stirs once more from his sleep. His throat is dry as a bone, and his once dull headache is now pounding. He lifts his heavy head off the pillow and his eyes fall to his now cold coffee. He reaches over and takes a gulp, hoping to ease the feeling in his throat. Is not uncommon for him to awaken with a dryness to his throat, he often finds a hot coffee is enough to solve the problem, but alas, he is desperate enough to settle for the cold one before him for now. Instead of the relief he is craving, a burst of pain shoots through his throat each time he swallows a mouthful. He coughs as he places the mug back down, unwilling to have another sip.

And oh Jesus, it finally hits him. He’s sick.

All the signs he had shrugged off now became blaringly obvious to him in retrospect. And oh fuck.

Alarm bells go off in his brain as he registers the risk of what exactly this could be. He scrambles for his phone on his bedside table.

Harry: Don’t come upstairs.

You glance down at your phone as you feel the buzz of the notification. You had spent the morning pottering around the house, catching up on little chores the two of you had neglected over the past few days in the Grammy busy-ness and subsequent hangover. Happy with your efforts, you had settled back into having a lazy morning and were watching television on the couch quietly.

“Harry?” you call out in confusion as you read his text, already pausing the TV and standing up, intending to do the exact opposite of following his advice.

You can’t have made it three steps before he’s calling you. The wave of confusion is soon followed by one of extreme worry as you pick up the phone.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Don’t come up I’m sick,” he spoke hoarsely.

“What do you mean?”

“Darling, it could be covid you can’t come up here,” he was cursing himself on the other end of the line. He should have been paying more attention to what his body was trying to tell him. Shouldn’t have been risking you like this. If he had it, he was sure he had already infected you too and guilt gnawed away at him.

This stops you in your tracks. You hesitate, you do. But ultimately, you know if he has covid, you’re probably already infected. If he does have it, which you are praying he doesn’t because young as he is, healthy as he is, there is always a risk. The worst running through your mind. If the worst were to happen, you would curse yourself until the day you died for not going to him right now.

“It’s not covid,” you tell him firmly.

“Baby-“

“Your tests from before the Grammy’s were negative, and we should be getting more test results back any minute that will be clean too,” you’re on the move again, absolute in your resolution. The both of you, along with all the other attendees of the ceremony, had been tested both before and after. They were meant to text each of you with your results any minute (or call, if they were positive, but that was a possibility you were trying to put aside).

“Even so, we can’t risk it until we get the results.” At the sound of your footsteps on the stairs he spoke your name sternly, halting your steps again.

“Harry,” you countered, matching his tone.

“Please don’t fight me on this. If you’re so sure that the result is going to be negative, and that they’re going to come in any second,” he pauses to cough, lungs and throat protesting with each word he speaks, “then a little while in bed by myself won’t kill me.”

“But-“

“Darling, please. If it is covid, I’ll never forgive myself for not doing everything in my power to try and keep you from getting it too,” the quiet desperation in his voice is the only thing that could break your resolve.

With a long exhale, you turned back down the stairs but kept the phone to your ear.

“Fine,” you huffed, “but only because I was always taught to respect my elders.”

“See that’s the good news,” he half laughed, half coughed at the exhalation of breath, “I’m not an old man with a two-day hangover, just a young man with an unspecified illness.”

“Do you still have your smell and taste?” you asked worriedly.

“I could definitely taste the cold ass coffee I just drank,” he rasped. He paused for a beat, hearing only the rustling of sheets. “And our bed still smells like you,” you heard the smile behind the comment, appreciating his sweet reference to the love he often professes he has for the way you smell.

“Sometimes I feel like it’s nothing you’re putting on, and sometimes I think it’s everything you’re putting on plus just, you. There’s no other smell like it and I wish I could just bottle it up and have it forever. Bloody aphrodisiac,” he had once told you.

“And you’re not running a fever?” You chewed the inside of your lip as you fired questions at him, a bad habit that reared its head when you were worried, stressed or concentrating hard.

On his end of the line, he felt his forehead for warmth. “Umm,” he considered it, “I’m not sure. Probably not.” He was actually pretty sure he had the beginning of one, but he could tell you were freaking out and he didn’t want to worry you any further until he heard for sure.

“I’m going to grab you a thermometer and some cold and flu tablets,” Harry immediately started to protest but you didn’t let him start. “I’ll put a mask on and just leave them outside the door. I’ll grab you some water and something to eat too. I’m not just leaving you sick up there with nothing.”

He sighed into the phone. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

You scoffed. “Of course not, I let you win the last one not more than five minutes ago.”

He sighed once more, and you rolled your eyes at your overdramatic boyfriend. “Fine, but you have to be in and out.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you leaned the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you grabbed what you needed for him.

“I’m not joking, y/n. You have to be quick.”

You bit your tongue, refraining from snapping back. Did he seriously think you were stupid? You knew he didn’t, he was just sick and stressed about the situation, but that didn’t stop the flare of annoyance that burst through your chest. You shook it off, knowing it was misplaced.

“Okay I’m going to put the phone down so I can pop a mask on and run up,” luckily, you had a million masks around the house ready to go.

“Kay,” he muttered, eyes feeling droopy all over again.

You pull your mask on, and with arms full of supplies dashed up the stairs. Once you arrived at the door, you placed down the cold medication, water and thermometer as well as the banana you had snatched off the kitchen counter before turning and running back down the stairs.

As soon as you’re back down the stairs, you’re pulling your mask off and putting the phone back to your ear. You faintly hear the close of your bedroom door, deducing Harry had grabbed everything.

“I’m back,” you acknowledged your presence on the phone.

“Thank you for that, my love.”

Your phone dinged in your ear, indicating a new text message. You pulled it away from your ear to examine the contents of the text.

You breathed a small sigh of relief.

“They just texted me my covid test results, they’re negative.” Everyone had been tested upon their exit of the Grammy afterparty.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You silently prayed that pause wasn’t caused by him examining another incoming call, suggesting his results were positive and required an actual conversation.

“Mine are negative too,” he exhaled, you could hear the relief in his voice.

“Oh, thank god,” you said, already turning to go back up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“I thought you were confident I didn’t have it,” he teased.

“Sorry somebody had to put on a brave face for Mr Worry Wart,” you teased right back. You hung up the phone as you reached the top step. Turning to the left and opening the door to your room.

You stride over to the bed wordlessly and climb in on your side, instantly wrapping both arms around him. He relished the embrace. You loved to poke fun at him, but sometimes the humour was just a way for you to mask how you were really feeling about things and deflect. Harry usually doesn’t point it out but he’s always aware of it.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice still croaky.

“I love you, too,” you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

You stayed like that for a moment longer before you swung into action, full nurturing mother bear mode activated.

“Now, have you taken your temperature? Taken some of the cold and flu tablets?”

At the shake of his head you frowned at him. “Come on then. You do that while I go make you a nice hot tea to soothe your throat. And a box of tissues,” you added at the sight of him sneezing practically hard enough to shake the room.

So back down to the kitchen you went for the third time that day, grabbing him both the tea, the tissues and a nice hearty bowl of porridge, figuring it would be gentle on his throat. “Temperature?” you asked as soon as you crossed the threshold of your doorway.

“No fever,” he punctuated with a cough.

You frowned as you watched it happen, his eyes were rimmed red, his nose beginning to run. He sat up in bed as you handed him the bowl of porridge. You placed the tea down so you could also hand him the box of tissues that had been tucked up under your arm.

“Thank you so much for all this, angel. But you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot, I’ve got a cold, I’m not bed bound,” he grabbed my hand and traced the outside of my hand as he spoke.

“I know I don’t have to do it, but I want to do it. My baby’s feeling crappy I just want to do whatever I can to make him feel less so.” Even after all this time of being together, your cheeks flushed slightly at your sappy words. You meant them, of course, but intimacy was still not one of your strong suits. The way you were raised lacked those kinds of affirmations and endearments, and was never modelled practically in your parent’s relationship. It left you both craving it, and feeling uncomfortable when it actually occurred. With both experience and Harry’s help you had gotten better at it, but you still weren’t 100% there yet. He knew one day you would be, though, and he was so proud to see how much progress you had made. Even if you couldn’t always see it.

Hearing those words from you, was just one more indication at how far you’ve come, and it warmed not only his heart, but his whole chest. With his grip on your hand, he gave you a slight tug, encouraging you to lean forward. Just as you had five minutes earlier, he presses a kiss to your cheek, craving your lips but knowing he can’t have them right now.

“You’re too good to me,” he praised as you pulled away reluctantly, giving him space to enjoy his breakfast while it was still warm.

He expected a joking, I know, in response but instead he receives a serious, “There is no such thing as good too to you. You deserve the world.” You don’t break eye contact with him, even as he is too shocked at your response to form one of his own. “But all I got you was this bowl of porridge sorry babe,” you broke the tension, pulling your hand from his.

“Where are you going now?” He pouts at you as you grab the half empty coffee mug and make your way out of the room.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” you assure him, already planning how else you are going to fuss over him. He has to be well to go to London to start filming his new movie soon, you reason with yourself. But really, you know he could have nothing coming up and you could be the busiest you’ve ever been, and you would still play nurse for him.

By ‘right back’ he assumed you meant in half an hour, because his mug and bowl are both empty by the time you return, and he is nearly drifting back off to sleep. He is still somewhat upright, but slumped back into his pillow, head lolling to the side slightly, directed towards the door almost as though is watching and waiting for you. While still conscious, his blinks are becoming slower and slower, reminiscent of a baby. You coo at his adorable sleepy state, the moment tugs at your chest so strongly it is almost physically painful. Sometimes, the magnitude of your love for him nearly sweeps you off your feet. You just feel so damn lucky to have these wonderfully domestic moments with him. To see him like this, to be his person that gets to take care of him. While he is a rockstar and you get to do all sorts of crazy things with him that most people dream of (like for instance, watching him perform at and accept a Grammy), you love doing everyday life with him.

“It’s not quite sleep time yet, baby,” you spoke gently, hoping not to startle him too much.

He peeled his eyes open and pouted at you once more. “Why not?”

“Because it’s nice, long, hot, steaming shower time,” his frown deepened, clearly not wanting to move. “I promise you, you’ll feel so much better afterwards.”

“You promise?” He refused to wipe the pout from his face, really stepping into being babied.

“I promise, now up you get,” you offered him both hands to help him up.

“Fine,” he groaned as he took your hands, and you pulled him up.

As soon as he was upright, he wrapped both arms around you and held you tight. He allowed himself a few short seconds before pulling away, not wanting to get you sick too. Even if it wasn’t covid, he still wanted his love well.

You shepherded him into the bathroom, where he winced once more at the brighter lighting. His eyes were always more sensitive to light when he had the flu. You turned the shower on for him while he got undressed, before turning to pull the blinds closed without him breathing a single word of complaint. His heart swelled with love for you for the hundredth time that day. To be loved by you was to be seen. He didn’t need to use his voice to be understood (though that communication obviously had its place).

“Take your time baby, let the steam help get all the bad stuff out,” you gave him a little smile before leaving, closing the door behind you to allow the steam to build up within the space.

Harry let out a sigh as he stepped into the stream of hot steaming water. You were right as ever, the steam helped clear him out somewhat, and even just feeling clean helped him to feel better already. He relished the heat and the soothing feeling of the water, massaging his scalp with shampoo as he began to wash up from head to toe.

He had no idea how much time had passed by the time he reluctantly turned the shower off and stepped into a big fluffy towel. He was much quicker in drying himself than he had been in the rest of his shower routine, eager to rug up in a jumper and some sweats (and some of those thick soft socks you bought him for winter).

He swung the en suite door open, contemplating where he left his comfy winter clothes last when he stops at the sight before him.

You’re putting the last pillowcase on, having changed the sheets completely. His breakfast dishes are cleared, replaced with a hot steaming bowl of vegetable soup and his bottle of water. You’ve dug the humidifier out of the cupboard as well and you’ve got it all set up and running for him. The book he was currently reading was picked up from its previous place on the living room coffee table and waiting for him on your pillow. The exact clothes he was about to grab were sitting at the edge of the bed, laid out ready for him.

“You’re an actual angel, ya know that?” He shakes his head in disbelief. He has no idea what he did in a past life to get so lucky. The success of the music, he can go to bed each night feeling like he has done a lot to earn. He’s worked hard for a long time, and while he accredited a good portion of it all to luck, he knew he wasn’t talentless or undeserving. With you, however, he had simply won the lottery. You weren’t a perfect person, but you were his perfect person. He would spend the rest of his life doing everything in his power to feel deserving of you.

“Only for you,” you say softly.

He strides over to you, holding his towel to keep it from falling as he went. He presses a kiss to your forehead and mutters an, “I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” you peer up at him. “Now get those on,” you gesture towards his clothes, “before your soup gets cold.”

“Where did the soup come from?” He asks as starts to shrug his towel off and pull his clothes on.

“Where did you think I went earlier?” you referenced your half hour long disappearance, having been downstairs chopping up and preparing vegetables to go into the homemade soup.

“Oh, angel,” he breathed, “you really are the best.”

“Oh stop. Don’t act like all of this is not exactly what you do every time I’m sick. Which is far more often than you are, I might add.” You weren’t wrong, he did baby you just as much if not more.

“You’re still the best,” he refused to relent.

“Yeah, yeah,” you end the conversation, not being able to handle too many compliments.

He lets it slide, knowing he could compliment you further and ask you to really hear what he was saying, because he meant it with his entire being. But you were doing so much for him, and he really was tired so he didn’t bombard you with more praise than you desired.

Once he was dressed, he hopped back under the covers and sat up with his soup. He didn’t have the appetite to finish it, but he knew as much of it as he could handle would do him some good.

You jumped into the shower yourself, wanting to feel as clean as the sheets did when you got into bed with him. By the time you were out of the shower and into your own pair of fresh comfy clothes, Harry had finished most of the bowl of soup and had set the remainder aside.

“Thank you so much, angel,” your cheeks tinted pink at the purposeful repetition of that particular pet name.

“Don’t mention it,” you crawled under the covers with him, picking up his book from your pillow. “Now, where were you up to?”

“Hmm?” he questioned.

“In your book, where were you up to?”

“Why?”

“So, I can read it to you, obviously.”

“Is that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“And why do you think I’m suddenly incapable of reading it myself?” He questioned, even though he was practically preening internally at the thought of your sweet voice reading his novel aloud to him. It was a beautiful novel, filled with rich descriptions and he just knew it would sound lovely rolling off your tongue, but you had already done so much for him today it was hardly for of him to let you offer this without giving you an out.

“I don’t think you’re incapable, I just know your eyes hurt when you’re sick and I can imagine it makes it hard to focus on the words. Plus, I always fancied a career in audiobooks,” you actually really wanted to do this for him, not viewing it as an inconvenience at all. In fact, you would probably find yourself disappointed if he told you he would rather read it himself.

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to,” he looked you in the eyes, gauging your expression.

“I want to,” you promised.

“About page 150, you might have to read the first sentence to check.”

So, you began reading, until his eyes grew heavier and his eyes drooped. Slowly but surely, he drifted off into the realm of peaceful deep sleep.

Not before, of course, he muttered, more than half asleep, “I can’t wait to marry the shit out of you.”

[youbloodymadgenius]

Happiness is Everything (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This wasn’t requested; I needed to give my boy some love, and a strong bond with Hvitserk. It’s nothing but a silly comfort fic.

@geekandbooknerd​ - Thank you for beta reading this for me 💖

@zuxiezendler​ - Thank you 😉🌸 (and you know why)

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Ivar doesn't want any more set-ups. Hvitserk’s stubborn girlfriend disagrees.

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst due to Ivar’s temper and insecurities; an obvious lack of plot; lack of creativity; fluff+++.

Words: 2575

Stifling a hiss of pain, Ivar flops down on the couch, leaning his crutch against its armrest. 

 "Here." Hvitserk joins him, handing him a beer before gulping a long sip of his. "So, brother," Hvitserk's face is slightly crumpled as he looks at him, "There's a last-minute change." 

 With a tight-lipped expression on his face, Ivar frowns. He hates last-minute changes with a passion. "What are you talking about, Hvitserk?" He asks curtly while massaging his right thigh absently. 

 "Thora will be with us tonight." Hvitserk shrugs, his discomfort obvious. 

 "Okay." Ivar tilts his head, confused. Every Thursday night, he and his brother spend the night together. Usually at Hvitserk’s place, eating frozen pizzas – a lot of them, Hvitserk being Hvitserk. Most of the time, Thora, who enjoys spending time with her friends, leaves them alone. Sometimes she stays home though, and honestly, it's fine. The truth is, he likes Thora. She's smart and funny, and uncomplicated. Sure, he didn't warm to her right away. It took time. But now, it's okay. He probably won't say it out loud, but yeah, he likes her.

 "So…" Raising a brow, Ivar takes a sip of his beer, "It's no big deal." As Hvitserk keeps silent, Ivar scrutinizes him. His brother is clearly nervous and not at ease at all. Ivar slowly licks his lips. "What are you not telling me, brother?" He knows he's right when Hvitserk lowers his gaze.

 "Well…" Hvitserk clears his throat, "She won't be alone."

A wide-eyed look on his face, Ivar snarls, pursing his lips. "What does that mean, Hvitserk?" The icy cold tone of his voice matches his hard stare, his knuckles turning white as he clenches his hands into fists. 

 Hvitserk winces, "You know what it means, brother," before taking a seat in the armchair across from Ivar, the small coffee table between them suddenly highly appreciated. One can never be too careful when facing Ivar's anger. 

 "Are you fucking kidding me?" Clenching his jaw, Ivar bangs his fist on the table, and Hvitserk immediately leans forward, catching his brother's beer just before it falls down. 

 "I'm not, Ivar. Listen, I'm sorry but Tho–"

 Ivar cuts him off, running nervously his hands through his hair. "I can't believe it! Remember the fiasco with Thora's cousin? And then with her colleague? What was her name? Livia? Lisa? See, she didn’t even stay long enough for me to remember. Anyway, I thought I was pretty clear after that, wasn't I? Maybe you and your girlfriend should go and check your hearing, what do you think, hm, brother?" His voice dripping with sarcasm, Ivar gives Hvitserk dagger eyes, his pointer finger tapping the side of his head. "No more set-ups. That's what I said, right? Sounds pretty clear, huh? Do I need to tell it again, brother? Look at my mouth, I wouldn't want you to miss it this time,” He points to his lips then in a sarcastic manner, “No. More. Set-ups. No. More. Blind. Dates." Bottom lip quivering, Ivar, who's boiling mad, struggles to hold back his anger.

 "I know, brother…" Hvitserk swallows, rubbing his hand over his face, "but you know Thora means well, don't you? I briefly met Y/N once and honestly, she seemed nice enough. Plus, Thora's not really setting you up. We'll be together, the four of us, here, just eating pizza, it hardly counts as a date, don't you think?"

 Disgruntled, Ivar heaves an exasperated sigh, his nostrils flaring. "Stop playing dumb, Hvit, and don't tell me you've never heard of double dates!" He stares at his brother, his pupils dilated, shading his eyes darker blue. "Anyway, it doesn't matter." As he reaches for his crutch, a scowl on his face, Hvitserk stands up, his brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"

 "Isn't that obvious?" Ivar mocks him while adjusting his legs in front of him. "I'm leaving!" Shifting his butt forward, he laces his left arm through the metal loop of his crutch, places his right hand on the coffee table, and then slowly hauls himself to his feet, grunting and swearing under his breath. He has a false start, where it seems he's going to fall right back onto the couch, but Hvitserk catches him skilfully, gripping his upper right arm. As soon as he's sure his baby brother has found his balance, Hvitserk releases his arm and Ivar gives him a tight, thank-you smile. 

 Hvitserk barely nods, as if nothing happened. And gosh, Ivar may be mad at him about this stupid set-up-non-set-up thing, but right now he's feeling mostly grateful. His brother not making a big deal out of his struggles never fails to amaze him.

With any other of his brothers, it wouldn't have been the same. 

Bjorn would have looked at him as if he were an utter failure, and then maybe helped him – out of pity, Ivar is sure of that – but not without paternally patting him on the shoulder; or even worse, on the head. The thought makes him cringe and he shakes his head, chasing it away. Bjorn is no longer around anyway, busy traveling around the world with his fourth wife. Or maybe it's the fifth? Ivar lost count a long time ago. 

 Sigurd would have kicked his crutch out from under him while Ubbe would have forced him to sit down, hovering beside him for far too long, afraid he would slip or stumble, or break a bone. Between Ubbe and Sigurd, between plague and cholera, Ivar is honestly not sure which one is better. Or worse. After all, it's all a matter of perspective. 

 Fortunately, Hvitserk – his favourite brother, and it is no coincidence – never treats him differently; never belittles him; never mothers nor smothers him. With him, Ivar feels like he's normal.

 Gratefulness flooding his mind, a pang of guilt suddenly hits him. He knows that if he leaves, he will put his brother in a difficult position. Though his resolve remains unshaken, Ivar puts a hand on his brother's shoulder, and when he speaks again, it's in a softer voice. "Listen, brother, just tell them I cancelled because I wasn't feeling well, okay?"

 Technically speaking, it's not even a lie. Today has been what his beloved mother would have called a 'bad leg day'. The pain coursing through his lower limbs worse and the muscles stiffer than usual, his right leg barely moving due to its swollen joints, he had taken a double dose of painkillers earlier, regrettably with little to no effect.

 "Well, brother," Looking out of the window, Hvitserk grimaces, an uneasy grin on the corner of his lips, "I'm afraid it's too late." 

 As if on cue, the door busts open and a girly chuckle can be heard. Ivar clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on the handle of his crutch. As you and Thora take off your coats and shoes in the doorway, Hvitserk mutters, his mouth on his brother's ear, "Behave Ivar, please. For my sake." 

 Ivar snorts, exhaling deeply. "I'll try." He closes his eyes and, shaking his head, he mumbles, fighting a lump in his throat. "It's… It's not that easy. Fuck Hvitserk, you don't even know…I wish I wasn’t so angry all the time. I… I might have been happy." His voice, barely a whisper at this point, cracks at the end, and he hates himself for that.  

 Astounded, Hvitserk isn't even sure he heard right. There's no time left to ask Ivar to repeat himself though, so he somewhat haphazardly decides to comfort him, nevertheless. "You'll get there, brother." He eventually breathes, still stunned by his brother's unexpected admission.

  "We're coming!!" Unaware of the tension in the room, Thora shouts enthusiastically before crossing it in two long strides. All smiles, she joins the brothers, winking at her lover and squeezing his hand, and gives Ivar a peck on the cheek followed by a wholehearted hug. She then steps away, gesturing toward you as Hvitserk wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Ivar, this is Y/N."

 Reluctantly, Ivar looks in your direction and the moment he sets his eyes on you, his breath catches in his throat and he knows he's screwed. Already smitten. Gods, you're glowing and insanely beautiful. He barely hears Thora's next words. "And Y/N, this is Ivar, Hvitserk's little brother."

 A beaming smile on your face, you wave at him before taking two shy steps forward. "Hello, Ivar." Even your voice is wonderful, sweet, and silky, and he can't help but smile back at you, annoyed with himself for being so weak. 

 Even if he can see the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him, even if your smile is devastating, he knows better. 

 It won't last. It can't.

 For now, standing tall in his brother's living room, he's aware you surely find him attractive. With no false modesty, Ivar knows about his good looks, his huge blue eyes his greatest asset. Of course, you must have noticed the crutch, but the crutch per se is barely a turn-off. You can't see his titanium leg braces, which he stubbornly wears under his pants, even if they often bruise the thin and delicate skin of his calves. You can't see his crippling pain, his struggles. You can't see his distorted bones and his hideous legs. You can't see how disabled, how crippled he really is. But he knows that as soon as he takes a step, you'll get a small glimpse, and then the sparkle will leave your eyes, replaced at best by polite indifference, at worst by pity and disgust. 

 Yet, there's nowhere to hide from the inevitable. So, he decisively closes the gap between you and him, leaning heavily on his crutch, dragging his useless right leg behind him, and eventually standing right in front of you, he extends his hand. "Nice to meet you." His gaze never leaves your face, Ivar awaiting for you to avert your eyes, but you surprisingly don't. And as you reach out and offer him a firm handshake, your smile never falters, the sparkle still dancing in your eyes. 

 *** One year later ***

 You stir and turn toward him, your hand searching and finding his chest, and then lay your head on his shoulder. Groggy with sleep, you just mumble his name, eyes still closed, before letting out a content sigh and Ivar can't help but smile; you're so adorable.  

 Wrapping his arm around your waist, he draws you closer, running his fingers along your back and pressing his lips to your head. Rewarded by kisses in the crook of his neck, his free hand settles on your hip, your skin warm and smooth under his fingertips. "Hi," he greets you and buries his nose in your hair, deeply inhaling your scent.

 "Hi." You eventually mumble with a raspy voice, now peppering light kisses all over his broad torso. "What were you doing, my love?" Your eyes flutter open and, propping yourself up on your elbow, your other hand flat on his chest, you offer him a warm smile. There's so much love in your eyes, it takes his breath away. 

 "I was remembering." Ivar smiles fondly at you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his mouth. "Do you know what day it is?" He asks, gently kissing your knuckles one after the other. 

 "How could I have forgotten?" You scoot even closer, your breast against his chest, your mouth barely an inch from his. "Today is the anniversary of the day we met, my love. That's what you were thinking about?"

 Ivar nods before laying you down on the bed tenderly. He then sits up, running his hands through his hair. "I remember as though it were yesterday, you know? I still can't believe you didn't run away." Sitting behind him, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, trapping him in your embrace, in your love. "You stayed…", his voice trembles as he gestures to his legs, hidden under the sheets, "… you stayed in spite of… of them…" He swallows loudly and your heart aches.

 Resting your head on his left shoulder, you shake your head. "No, my love, I didn’t stay in spite of your legs, but because of them." 

 Ivar is looking downward but as soon as the words escape your lips, he snaps his head to the side, a frown flitting across his face, and gives you a confused and slightly upset look. "What do you… What do you mean?" He stammers, suddenly tense.

 Shifting in the bed, you carefully straddle him, tilting his chin with a curled finger and forcing him to meet your gaze. "Don't get me wrong, Ivar. I'm not especially attracted to your legs. It's not some kind of weird fetish. I stayed because of what is in here." You put your finger on his forehead, and then over his heart. "And here. But your legs made you who you are. And you're different. A good kind of different. You don't think like other men. That's what I love the most about you. You're unpredictable; you always surprise me. You wouldn't have been who you are without your legs." A gentle hand sliding under the sheets, your fingers graze his scarred skin. "With two working legs, who knows what you would have been. You probably would have been a presumptuous womanizer like Bjorn. Or you might have been as boring as Ubbe; as careless as Hvitserk; as annoying as Sigurd. You are who you are, infuriating, smart, and stubborn, and, I must say, breathtakingly handsome, and I love you exactly the way you are." 

 Ivar just looks at you for a long time, a small smile playing on his lips. Raising his right hand, he cups your face. "Never stop telling me you love me, Y/N. Please..." You never saw him so willingly vulnerable before, and it breaks your heart – you never want him to doubt himself – as much as it fills you with joy – he trusts you enough to share his insecurities with you. 

 You answer him without missing a beat. "I won't. I love you more than my own life. I love you bigger than the sky and its stars, I love you to the moon and back. I love you like I never thought I could. Loving you is a blessing, a precious gift, the meaning of my life. I love you and only you, Ivar Lothbrok."

 Blinking a few times, Ivar heaves a shuddering breath. Tears come to his bright blue eyes and the expression on his face is unreadable; fragile and strong all at once. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it. Staring into space, he seems lost.

 Stroking his cheek, you bring him back to the here and now, back to you, kissing his earlobe, his jaw, his neck, before returning briefly to his mouth. "What is it, Ivar?"

 Your lover shrugs, "Nothing, really," and pulls you closer, his hands on your back, his breath on your face, his manly scent enticing you. "Or more accurately…", he whispers in your ear, "… Nothing, yet everything." 

 Not understanding what he's getting at, you keep quiet, just staring at him, confusion obvious in your eyes. He then offers you a mind-blowing smile, and your heart nearly jumps out through your mouth at his next words. 

 "I may be happy. Actually, I think I am."

 🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets​ @lisinfleur​ @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @gearhead66​ @inforapound​ @readsalot73​ @milkkygirls​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @shannygoatgruff​ @zuxiezendler​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @hecohansen31​ @lonewolf471​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @didiintheblog​ @peachyboneless​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @ethereallysimple​ @destynelseclipsa​ @coco2315​ @mlchael-guerin​ @pieces-by-me​

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || Comforting Hugs [Request]

Chan:

It was just one thing after another that day and you were getting more upset as time went by, you dragged yourself through your front door and threw your bag down onto the floor wanting to curl up into a ball and cry right then and there. The day had started with your boyfriend Chan telling you he couldn't come and see you that night because he was busy with work, which you understood. After all, you knew how much his dream meant to him but it didn't stop you being a little upset over it. The slowly throughout the day things got worse, your heel snapped on the way to work, someone at work dumped a tray of coffee over you so you were forced into wearing a tighter waitress uniform resulting in being reported by one of the Karen's that frequently visited the small cafe you worked in with her son, claiming you were trying to seduce him which ultimately lead to you being fired because your dumb boss valued money rather than the truth.

"Fuck," You groaned laying down on the sofa and trying not to break down into tears, you looked at your phone to see a photo from Chan sitting on your notification bar but you didn't want to open it because then he would know you were home early but you didn't want to be rude, on the screen was a photo of him in the studio, 

Hi baby, hows work? x 

That was all it took for you to break down into tears sitting on your sofa, sobbing into your sofa cushions and cradling them as though it was Chan's chest and he was holding you instead of you being home alone. Your phone was ringing like crazy and you couldn't ignore it anymore, you sniffled and lifted it up to your ear to answer it. 

"Hello?"

"Y/n?! What's wrong? Why aren't you answering my Snapchat? Are you okay?" His voice was full of concern which only made your heartache more at the fact that he wasn't sitting beside you. 

"I got fired Channie." You sobbed down the phone and he was up from his desk in a flash, 

"I'll be right round."

"You're busy-" He hung up before you could even finish your sentence and you just sat there in silence while you waited for him to show up at the door. 

He let himself into the apartment and sat beside you on the sofa taking your hands into his and pulling you close to him,

"Talk to me." He whispered but you shook your head snuggling your face into his chest, 

"I just need you to hold me." You whispered back to him, he unlinked your hands and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, holding you as close as he could without you being in his body.

"I'm sorry I made you leave the studio, you could go back." But he stayed silent and rubbed the small of your back in different patterns, whispering sweet nothings into your ear trying to comfort you in any way he could, 

"Shh, I'm here." You smiled softly at him and closed your eyes listening to his heartbeat to calm you down from the awful day you'd had, it was perfect laying here. It was all you needed to make everything seem okay again and Chan knew that he knew all you needed was for him to be there and he was going to do everything he could to keep you happy because he loved you so much.

Minho:

Something had felt off all day, the moment you woke up you felt as though something was going to go wrong and you were right. Your boyfriend of two years broke up with you because he was in love with someone else who just so happened to be one of your close friends, well...Ex close best friend. You'd tried to stay as happy and positive about it as you could but it was hard to do that when it felt like the world was turning against you. You'd tried to call up your best friend Chan but he wasn't answering so you headed to the Soul Cafe to get your favourite drink instead in hopes it would cheer you up a little more. It didn't, now you were sitting in the cafe staring into the cup of hot chocolate and trying not to sob,

"Y/n?" You looked up to see Minho standing at the counter ordering something, you smiled softly at him and stared back down at the cup.

"You alright?" A simple question that normally you would answer without troubles but this time it made your eyes water and your chest hurt,

"Yeah, fine. You?" You were trying to act as calmly as possible but it was as if he could read your mind because the next thing you knew he was walking you out and up towards the studios carrying your cup for you and saying nothing.

"What's happened?" You sniffled and noticed a couple of tears were rolling down your face, Mina and Sana walked past you going to question what was wrong but Minho told them he had it covered,

"He broke up with me for my friend." You managed to say between broken sobs, Lee Know felt his blood boil at the thought of someone hurting you, he'd always had a crush on you but kept it a secret since you were in a relationship and one of Chan's best friends but this was it, it hurt him to see you hurting so much.

"I'll kill him." He mumbled walking you into a studio and sitting you on one of the leather sofas, you sniffled again and he handed you a box of tissues going to leave the room to find Chan.

"Please don't leave me alone." You whimpered, his hand hovered above the door handle at your words ad he turned around to look at you, you were staring at him and he nodded coming over to the sofa and sitting at the opposite end.

"C-Can I hug you?" You stuttered out feeling suddenly nervous to be alone with him, you'd only ever hung around with all of them together he opened his arms and you slid over to him, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes.

"Has anyone ever told you, you make a great pillow?" You whispered snuggling against him and feeling relaxed and somehow at home.

"No, not really." His arm rested on your waist and he smiled, he could have stayed that way forever if you'd have let him just holding you to make sure you were okay or felt better he made a promise to himself that once you were over the low life that dumped you he would ask you out on a real date and make you feel like the amazing person you were.

Changbin:

It had been the worst week for you, you'd gotten sick on the Monday Changbin's holiday started and hadn't gotten better since. It was now Sunday and he'd spent the entire time he had off sleeping on your sofa away from you so he didn't get sick, he couldn't risk getting sick and then spending more time away from work so he was playing nurse for you from a distance. He wouldn't go near you, wouldn't hug, kiss or even be in the same room with you longer than ten minutes and it was starting to make you upset. You were cranky from hardly eating anything and not being able to spend time with your boyfriend was driving you insane.

"One hug." You mumbled coming down the stairs, you had a blanket wrapped around your head and he turned around to see you standing there. You were dressed in one of his hoodies with the blanket wrapped tightly around you and he sighed,

"I can't, you're sick. Back to bed." You stood your ground and pouted,

"I'm fine, I'm not sick anymore." You both stayed silent for five seconds before you began coughing hysterically in front of him and he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Not sick anymore?" He questioned making you mumble something in his direction before heading back upstairs to the bedroom. Changbin went into the kitchen to get you something to eat, though you weren't allowed much so it was mostly soup for you with a little bit of bread to try and build your immune system back up to being healthy once again.

He stepped into the bedroom and heard you sniffling under the covers, you hadn't heard him come in otherwise you would have stopped crying in an instant, you didn't want him to see you like this.

"Jagi?" You wiped your eyes and rolled over to face him acting as though nothing was wrong but he could tell by your bloodshot eyes that you'd be crying, he put the food down on the bedside table.

"What's wrong?" You shook your head at him not wanting to talk about it,

"Get out before you get sick." You whimpered moving over to the food and getting ready to eat but he stood there staring at you.

"What is it? Is your headache back?"

"No, my boyfriend hasn't hugged me in over a week and I want a hug." You pouted and he instantly felt bad for not being able to hold you in his arms, he wanted to more than anything in the world but you were sick and he couldn't risk it. You knew how much music meant to him but when you were sick you didn't care about anything but yourself,

"Move over." He mumbled kicking off his shoes,

"What?"

"Move over." You moved over in the bed and he climbed under the covers beside you, laying your head against his chest as he sat beside you. He wrapped his right arm around your waist and used his left one to turn on your favourite movie on the TV, you smiled softly and looked up at him thinking about all the ways you loved him.

A couple of days later you were fine and Changbin was the one sick and in your bed complaining that it was your fault he was in that state now and how you had to be the nurse for him.

Hyunjin:

Having a best friend that lived halfway across the world wasn't easy, especially when you were also in love with him and all you wanted to do was cuddle up next to him when you were feeling down. Hyunjin knew how much your mental health was taking a hit lately, how sad you were getting because you were away from him, friends and family in your time of need and he wanted to try and cheer you up as much as he could luckily for him he had already made a deal with Chan that on their vacation he could go and see you in your home country without telling you of course as he wanted it to be a surprise and that's where he was going.

"Just a minute." You mumbled dragging yourself over to the front door to see who was knocking so loudly on a Sunday morning at 4:15. You unlocked each of the locks on the door and swung it open to see Hyunjin standing there with a giant smile on his face,

"Oh, Hey. Come in I'll make a drink." It wasn't the reaction he was hoping for but he followed you into the apartment and into the kitchen where you continued to sleepily make a drink. The kettle clicked and so did your mind, the blanket was thrown from around you and you jumped into Hyunjin's arms screaming about how much you couldn't believe he was standing there.

"Hi!" You yelled giggling as he put you down on the ground and smiled at you, his smile was contagious and you already felt better just by him being there.

"Oh god, I can't believe it!" You yelled running into his arms and just staying there, he was resting his head on top of yours and holding you tightly. Neither of you wanted to let go of the other so you just walked into your living room and collapsed down onto the sofa together.

"Why? When? How?" He laughed at you trying to get all the different questions out to him and he pulled away to look down at you, tucking hair behind your ear.

"This morning, it's our vacation and because you needed me." He stared down into your eyes and you smiled at him, his eyes flicked down to your lips and it was the first time he'd ever wanted to kiss you badly, he leant forward and you met him the rest of the way both of you proceed to make out in the middle of your living room.

Han:

You were crying to your best friend about how much you missed your boyfriend Han, you'd only gone over to her apartment to do her makeup and it turned into a girl therapy session where you were now sitting on her bed and crying into her legs about how much you'd missed him. Normally he would stay at your apartment but he was busy with studio things and it was easier for him to be at the dorms than it was to be at your apartment,

"I understand, of course, I do. But I still miss him and I feel like I can't tell him that because I know how much music means to him." You whimpered and she continued to rub your back asking you questions about it, what neither of you had failed to notice was that you were laying on your phone and butt dialling Han. He'd heard everything you said including the broken cries you would let out when your friend asked about it.

He'd used the spare key to get into your apartment where he then laid out blankets on your living room floor and got snacks ready, putting Howl's Moving Castle on the TV and waiting for you. He heard you sniffle as you shut the front door and he said nothing, he just walked up to you and kissed your cheek.

"Han-ah?" You mumbled dropping the bag you were carrying on the floor and walking with him into the living room, there were fairy lights everywhere and he was smiling at you.

"I'm sorry I've been so focused on work lately, I hope this sort of makes up for it." You smiled sadly at him and wrapped your arms around his neck and his wrapped around your waist.

"It's perfect but all I need is you here." You whispered going over to the blankets and sitting down together, he sat you on his lap while you cuddled into him not wanting to leave his lap for as long as humanly possible. You both just laid there tangled together in silence, the movie wasn't in either of your minds you just laid together comfortably as he rubbed the small of your back and whispered sweet things to you to make you feel a little better, telling you a funny story about the boys and then trying to get you to talk but all you wanted to do was lay there and listen to him.

Felix:

Changbin had promised to come and pick you up for the night but he hadn't shown up and text you telling you he was being held back at the studios and you should go around on your own to the dorms. He was your close friend and he'd invited you to stay over at the dorms after a really bad week, you'd been fired on Monday, Wednesday your mum told you her and your father were getting a divorce and it just got worse with every passing day. The walk to the dorms gave you a lot of time to think which wasn't a good thing because by the time you got to the front door you were sobbing and crying into your hands as if you were in some kind of movie, the door opened and Felix was standing there looking at you, his facial expression was full of concern as soon as he saw you sobbing.

"Is Changbin here yet?" You whimpered and he shook his head letting you into the apartment and shutting the door behind you,

"You alright?" You shook your head and headed in the direction of his and Changbin's room to go and lay down and he followed you wanting to know why you were crying.

"What's wrong?" You shook your head again sniffling and looking around for one of Changbin's hoodies and Felix knew what you were looking for and handed you one of his instead, you stared at it before accepting it.

"I'll be right back." He mumbled leaving the room, you changed quickly and lifted the hood around your head, Felix came back into the room with a bottle of water and some snacks but you didn't look like you were in the mood for food.

"Come on," He whispered nodding over to his bottom bunk, it was easier than climbing up to the top one so you laid down in front of Felix. Naturally, his arm rested around your waist and he pulled you back to him making you hum as you rested so close to him,

"We don't have to talk about it." He whispered to you and you could feel his breath on the bottom of your neck making your heart pound. You'd been this close to him once before and it was when you were drunkenly making out at a party that he seemed to have forgotten about but you hadn't, you remembered it as if it happened yesterday. You turned over in his arms to face him and looked up to his face,

"Thank you Lix," You whispered leaning up and kissing him on the cheek, he blushed deeply and you smiled resting your head on his chest to listen to his rapid heartbeat.

"It's fine Y/n." He whispered kissing the top of your head, he wanted Changbin to stay as long as he could at work just so he could lay there with you in his arms.

Seungmin:

It had been without a doubt the worst birthday in the histories of birthdays no one had remembered that it was your birthday, you'd gone to work as normal and then after work, you headed to the restaurant that Seungmin had placed a reservation for you both but he never showed up at the restaurant and you left not wanting to look pathetic sitting there alone all dressed up for nothing.

"Oh Hi!" Chan yelled as you walked into the dorms, he took one look at you and knew something was wrong though,

"What is it?" You looked at the floor and then back up to his face,

"It's my birthday and Seungie didn't remember." You whispered, Chan almost dropped the drink he was holding and he felt bad instantly. They'd all forgotten it wasn't just Seungmin,

"Shit, Y/n...We've just been really busy with the comeback and-"

"It's fine, is he in bed?" He nodded and you walked in the direction of the dorm room, taking off the jacket and crawling into the bed beside him trying not to cry too much. You knew how much this meant to Seungmin so you weren't about to sit and cry about him missing a birthday, you loved how hard he worked and you adored the fact that he was so passionate about music.

"Hey, Jagiya." He whispered once he felt you snuggling against him, you stayed silent and laid against his chest. You knew Chan had followed you into the room and was mouthing a conversation to Seungmin who didn't understand what the leader was trying to say.

"He's trying to tell you it's my birthday." You mumbled against his chest,

"No your birthday is next Friday- Oh my god, I'm so sorry." You shook your head at him and looked over your shoulder at Chan,

"You're busy, it's fine." You promised, of course, you were hurt deep down but you knew how much everything meant to Seungmin so you were just going to get over it and the best way to do that was cuddling up to your sweet boyfriend and just staying in his arms for as long as possible with no interruptions,

"I'll make it up to you." He whispered kissing the top of your head and you responded with a hum closing your eyes and wanting to sleep laying against him for the rest of the night.

I.N:

The panic attack came on strong and you were left breathless and leaning back against a wall, your brother Hyunjin was somewhere in the venue which meant you were alone to deal with this on your own, you were trying to focus on breathing when I.N found you.

"Y/n?!" You looked up at him and he rushed over to you, kneeling you down on the floor in front of him and sitting there with you, he'd seen this time and time again with Han and he knew what to do when someone was having a panic attack.

"Deep breath in and out." He repeated trying to get you to follow along with his breathing but it wasn't working,

"Okay, name five things you can see that are circle." He mumbled and you frowned looking around the venue and naming this,

"Four things you can hear." You named them one by one and he continued to give you small tasks to do each of them slowly taking the mind away from your panic attack and bringing you back down to your normal breathing and thinking.

"You okay?" He asked as he noticed you were now crying, you nodded slowly and stared at him.

"How did you learn to do that?" He shrugged his shoulders telling you he'd seen someone doing it with Han once,

"We'll get you some water," You shook your head and sat on the floor not wanting to move in fact, you wanted to sit and cry about having a panic attack over something that seemed so silly.

"Don't leave me." You whispered and he shifted closer to you, sitting with his back against the wall and as if it was a natural thing for you to do you snuggled against his side resting your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes.

"Thank You Jeongin." You mumbled snuggling against him, he looked around to make sure Hyunjin wasn't around before he snaked his arm around your waist to comfort you hoping no one would come along and ruin it for him.

[juminly]

Nights Like These

Summary: A nice cozy movie night with timeskip! Iwaizumi Hajime.  Tags: Mostly Fluff & Smut towards the end. Warning: Smut starts after the “♥♥♥” and includes fingering and cockwarming.

–♥– 

Hajime knew that you loved mac and cheese. He had enough skills to be able to be able to whip up something nice and yummy for you after you've had such a long day and especially since you haven’t had an actual “date” in so long. Living on his own in the US for a few years did have its perks and this was one of them: he was a grown ass man who knew his way well enough in the kitchen to be able to cook for you. Sighing loudly, dark orbs stared for a few seconds at the smart watch strapped to his wrist then back at the pot in front of him. He was looking forward to seeing you more than anything. Being the athletic trainer of the national Japanese team was no ordinary feat and it took up a lot of his time and energy. But, that didn't mean that it would take up the time that you deserved, the time that you both needed. Being always so hyper-focused on his own work, his thoughts tended to drift off quite often to you, just thinking about the last few phone calls you had, the last few texts you sent him and the things you've done in your last few dates. He missed the way you sighed when he played with your hair... God, he loved playing with your hair, twirling your curls in his fingers. It wasn't even the agreed time for your date but he was anxious to see you. He wouldn't admit it to you though, not even to himself. The loud and strong thrumming of his heart in his chest was a big reminder of how much he loved you. He was smitten. No, ever worse! or better? He couldn't even think straight anymore, he was whipped for you and... Ring! Ring! Ring! Three rings. That's your own way of letting him know that it was you and he just absolutely loved it when you did that. If it were anyone else at the door, he wouldn't have been rushing towards it the way he had and flung it open just to see your face.

"Princess." The corner of his lips just curled up out of their own volition, didn't even ask for permission but they didn't even have to. You were here and he wouldn't have it any other way. Why was he acting and feeling like such a schoolboy? He didn't even care. What he cared about was why you were still not throwing your arms around him. "Come here, you." Leaning forward, he took your hand in his and pulled you in for a hug, squeezing his arms tightly around your waist, supporting your weight as you literally balanced yourself on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him back. He nuzzled your neck only for a brief moment, leaving a gentle kiss there and before you murmured in a wondering tone. "Cheesy?" He couldn't help but stiffen for a brief moment. Did you figure out what he had prepared for you? Or even worse, Hajime would be completely mortified if you thought he was cheesy or corny at any point and you didn't like it. Not that he was a man of many words but he always made sure that any word coming out of his mouth meant something. At least when it came to you. He didn't give two fucks when it came to the guys, they could all whimper and cry for all he cared. Nobody meant more to him than you. The click of your tongue snapped him out of his racing thoughts and that giggle... that same glorious and marvellous sound that made him turn his head the first time you met, that time when your eyes locked and he knew that he had to talk to you, even if one of the players on the team had to be used as a wingman just to be able to get a word in with you. "Babe-" You laughed softly. "What's going on in that head of yours? Are you daydreaming about me when I'm in your arms?" With a long sigh, you mumbled and seemed a bit disgruntled, which obviously made the furrow between Hajime's eyebrows even deeper. "If that's the case, then I can just leave. Is daydreaming about me better than real me?" He knew you were joking but how dare you use that pouty tone on him?

"I won't answer your first question. You'll have to wait and see for yourself. But-" Pressing his hand on the small of your back, his other hand inched down to grip you by the waist as his lips hovered against your own, his breath fanning over your lips, tickling them lightly just as a tingling sensation arose in both your chests. "Do you really think I would call you over if I didn't want you right where you are right now?" Closing the distance between you, he loses himself in the little taste of sweetness he could get from a chaste gentle kiss of your lips. It was hard for him to even contain himself or exercise any form of control when he's around you. "Right here in my arms." He murmurs softly before going back in for another kiss, a little bit deeper, a tiny bit more passionate as he molds your lips together, sucking on your bottom one before breaking away once again. Gazing down on you as you both try to catch your breath from the small loving exchange, Hajime stared down at your cheeks that were now painted with the most adorable blush, his heart swelling with giddiness that he was the one responsible for such a reaction from you. "Come on, we're watching The Princess Bride tonight and I better not hear any objections from you." He smiled as he saw yet another giggle from you, even as you rolled your eyes and told him that you've already seen it a thousand times before and you didn't even know why he wanted to watch it with you. Silencing you with a small peck, his usual frown was still on that handsome face of his but his gaze was soft and endearing. "I want to know more about the things that you love so you'll have to humour me for tonight, baby girl."

Kissing your cheek, his hand finds yours and he guides you to the living room, pulling you away from the kitchen since he knew that was the destination you had in mind. You always wanted to give him a hand when it came to literally anything but when it came to your dates or your time together, Hajime wanted to show that he wanted to do things for you. It was simply his love language. A language that was created since he met you. "Thanks for coming over. I know it was last minute but the guys' practice match got postponed so I decided to cut them some slack." - he chuckled before meeting your eyes that were now crinkling with laughter - "Not that I don't plan on kicking their ass later anyway. Gotta make sure they are in top shape and remember who's the one making the rules." Once he ensured that you were seated, he threw you a glance of warning over his shoulder as he walked out to the kitchen. "You better sit tight princess while I go get the food. I'll be right back." He winked at you and chuckled at the way you squirmed slightly and busied yourself with the remote control as he prepared your dinner for you. Hajime had his own way of showing his love and spoiling you. The man wanted to make sure that he followed through. Making you feel special, trying to show but a sliver of how he truly felt about you. Sighing loudly and after ensuring that the pasta was thoroughly cooked, he meticulously dumped it in a bowl, big enough to fit 6 servings of mac and cheese and brought two plates along with him to the living room.

As "The Princess Bride" began playing, you both dug into your food and being the humble fellow that he was, Hajime didn't dare comment on the food but he did find it quite... acceptable, to say the least. On the other hand, the look on your face when you saw what he had cooked for you was worth all the effort. He didn't use the basic Kraft Dinner mac and cheese, even though it was basically your favourite. However, he just wanted to do just a little bit extra for you, add his own touch : a four cheese mac and cheese with the finest pasta from a local Italian shop that he always ate at and even took you to a few times. The first few bites etched an expression of pure bliss on your face and that drew a shit eating grin on his face, one that you didn't even get the chance to see as you were too busy filling in your plate with a second serving. While you munched on your food and whispered about your favourite scenes from time to time, Hajime tried his best to keep his attention on the movie but you were much more entertaining that it was while you recited almost every single line that resounded from the TV. He wished he could turn it off and just watch you act out the movie and tell him about everything you love about it, he wouldn't have minded that at all.

He chuckled under his breath at the look of amazement on your face when you both managed to finish and lick clean all the contents of the pot. He just let you believe that you ate more than him - just for shits and giggles - when he was also devouring whatever he could from the food (about 4.5 servings - the man works out A LOT, okay? Don't judge-). Nobody could blame him, it was fucking delicious and he was proud that you loved something that he made with his own two hands. Taking a short clean-up/bathroom break, Hajime cozied up on the couch, checking all the stupid emojis and texts he received from the Olympic team. How did they even know that he was on a date with you? The texts and emojis on the group chat ranged from: "Ya betta get it on tonight, Iwa-chan~ Ya frown too much cause ya don't get laid enough!" - Atsumu, the wannabe Shittykawa. "WAT R U GOING TO BE DOING ON UR DATE? WILL IT BE FUN? MAYBE I CAN COME!? I LUV UR GF" - Hinata, the sweet sunshine boy bordering on annoying but too pure to be so, Hajime had to admit that he had a soft spot for him and the rowdy wing spiker who followed up with a text of his own. "WE'RE COMING OVER IN 1H TO HANG OUT WITH U! WE MISS HER SO MUCH!", Bokuto's follow-up did nothing but make the trainer's blood boil with imminent rage. If those two dimwits dared to even ring the bell of his condo, Japan can say goodbye to their favourite chaotic duo.

Putting in an Airpod in his left ear, Hajime began recording the most graphically violent threat he could muster on the group chat and stuttering mid-way through the voice note. Yes, Hajime Iwaizumi stuttered out of surprise and YOU were the only one who could catch this man off-guard as you walked back into the living room wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts. He barely managed a quick "I gotta go", clicked send without looking at the screen, blinked and gawked at you with a baffled frown.  "What happened to your clothes?" "Well~ Things did get a little messy in the kitchen and while I...-" You cleared your throat and bit your bottom lip, definitely not trying to turn him on. Sarcasm alert. "-kinda made things worse so I borrowed one of your T-shirts. I hope you don't mind." He simply shook his head, mumbling a husky "It's fine, what's mine is yours" and patted the seat next to him. His frown only grew deeper when you walked closer to him but made no sign of actually sitting down. Looking up at you, he could see the bright flush spreading across your cheeks when you pointed to his lap. "Is that seat taken?"

His eyebrow perked up in amusement along with a mirthful smirk, your bottom lip remaining a prisoner between your teeth. "Be my guest. Who am I to refuse a request from my princess." He chuckled as he grabbed your hand, pulling you into his lap and you squirmed in embarrassment, the feeling of your well-defined butt rubbing against him, those supple cheeks that his crotch was getting well acquainted with. The accidental groan that escaped his lips was a definite warning to stop what you were doing or continue at your own risk.

"If you keep wiggling your ass on me like that, you're gonna have to own up to your actions, sweetheart." His rough baritone was telling of the growing desire he had for you. He hadn't seen you in so long and he was starved for your touch, as if the soft brush of his calloused fingers on your thighs was no indication to his underlying intentions. He knew how sensitive you were and he was not above taking advantage of that fact, the slight shiver that ran over your body only urged on him, wanting to coax even more of these delicious reactions from you. 

♥♥♥ "Iwa-" Before you could even finish calling his name, his lips were on yours, nipping at your bottom one and sucking deeply before licking his way into your mouth, tasting the freshness of mint from his mouthwash as he entangled his tongue with your own, groaning loudly into your mouth. Breaking only for a moment, he demanded your attention as his fingers began to meander up your inner thighs, wasting no time to slide his index and middle over your panties, a clear wet spot forming and drenching the fabric slowly..

"If this is what you've wanted all along, you should've just said so, you naughty princess." Pushing your panties aside with his other hand, he deftly parted your folds and circled his fingers over your entrance, gathering up your slickness before lathering over your slit, barely grazing your swelling clit that desperately needed his attention. Seeing how you held your breath and stiffened in his embrace made him only want to do even more to you. This is not the type of quality time he had in mind but he was definitely not going to object to it. "Baby girl..." He crooned huskily as one of his hands rubbed up and down one of your thighs, making sure that your legs remained parted so that he could finger you good enough, prep you for what he had in mind. Before capturing your lips once again, he licked the seams of your lips, demanding that your eyes meet his own as he murmured against you. "You call me by my name, baby. You're royalty to me, after all." He smiled softly as you responded in kind, calling out his name and pulling him in a deep kiss, your hips slowly beginning to rut against his fingers that had yet to turn things up a notch. "Hajime..." You whimpered shakily against his lips, his warm breath fanning over your wet lips as his thumb rolled over your sensitive bud, moving clockwise and counter-clockwise, fast and slow with just the right amount of pressure to leave you with fighting to catch your breath. With two fingers right at your entrance, he watches you with avid interest, humming in satisfaction every time a moan escapes your lips, his own hips grinding involuntarily against your behind as his own erection begins to harden under your squirming figure.

"Hajime, I want you inside me... Please, stop teasing me!" You squeal while your nails dug into his shoulders, gripping those thick muscles tightly, while his own body tensed, betraying the composure that he desperately tried to maintain. His large biceps flexing as he squeezes his arms around you even tighter, trying to cease the negligible movement of your body that is driving him insane.

"Shush, baby. I'll treat you good. Just relax." Finally plunging in his fingers inside you, he swallows your moans with a searing kiss while you cried out into his mouth, his thick digits thrusting in and out of you and curling into you, your inner walls clamping down on them and sucking him in. With every roll of your hips, he met you with a thrust of his own, his fingers knuckle-deep, reaching that sweet stop that has you keening, so damn close to falling apart.

Your lips parted with a loud wet noise, his chest heaving with bated breath, his state reflecting your own but it didn't change the fact that you were feeling even needier when he cruelly removed his fingers from your core. Your frustrated whine didn't elicit any reaction from him but, contrary to his exterior, he could feel his body bursting with heat and it became unbearable. He exhaled loudly, patting your thigh and growling in your ear. "Get up and take your clothes off, baby girl. I'm not getting inside you until you do."

Hurriedly taking off his shirt in one smooth go and just in time to watch you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt, pulling it up in a rush, exposing more and more of your smooth skin. Fuck... he wanted to mark you all up but the twitching of his cock straining against his pants urged him to do so later. There were more pressing matters to attend to and right now, he just wanted to drink you all in. Licking his lips with a desire only you could sate, the darkness of his unquenchable thirst swimming in his orbs almost too much to handle, yet you still kept your gazes locked as you unclipped your bra, letting it fall to the floor while he fumbled with his belt, unzipping his pants and freeing his aching length with a loud hiss. The way you squeezed your legs together didn't go unnoticed and he knew that he left you hanging. "Come here, baby." As you inched closer to him, Hajime placed one large hand on either side of your hips, guiding you before him as you placed one knee on the couch and then another to straddle him, giving him a glimpse of your dripping core that was so ready for the taking while you wrapped your arms around his neck. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he latched on to the crook of your neck, sucking on your soft skin deeply while sweet moans tumbled so easily from your quivering lips. "I've had enough, Hajime. I promise... Just please... I want you inside me." You pleaded as his warm hands settled on your butt, fondling your soft cheeks while he angled you right on top of his cock, groaning against your neck. "You're so perfect. I fucking missed you so much." With his fingertips digging into your soft flesh, he eases you onto his cock, sheathing himself fully inside you as you sink onto him, both of you moaning in harmony as your cunt clamped down on every single inch of him that you could take.

For a few moments, both of you remained silent, your forehead pressed against his bare shoulders and his own lying on the crown of your head. The silence of the room was filled with your heavy breathing as you allowed the fullness of your bodies, the fullness of your hearts washed over you and enveloped you completely. Neither of you wanted to move or even dared to, even though your instincts screamed to grind against one another and chase the release that you both wanted. But it wasn't what you really needed. This moment, the intimacy, this... love. "W-what about the movie?" You breathed out shakily against his arm, giggling softly while you began nibbling on the hardness of his bicep. He knew that you weren't even mildly concerned with the movie which made him chuckle out a deep laugh that rumbled in his chest. You... You never failed to those stupid butterflies flutter in his stomach with your cute little acts of possession.

He wore your love bites with pride and didn't mind that they were in a place that was even more visible than his neck. He licked a long strip on the column of your throat, decorating it with nips of his own, marks of his love and yearning for you while his hands sought your breasts, kneading them with tenderness. Even if words betrayed him most of the time, he trusted his actions to speak for him. "There's nothing better than watching you, princess."

–♥– 

Please feel free to leave comments/feedback!💜  Masterlist

Tagging @shhhlikeme @hqissodelicate @cleverlittlevixen (I hope you enjoy your movie night with your boo :*) 💜 

[cockasinthebird]

Dear anon,

Here’s the Second Part to the request you made about Billy watching Steve masturbate! I would link the first part but then this post wont show up in the tag because that’s how it works, apparently

I think this might be one of my favourite things I’ve written, and yes I know I say that quite often, but there’s nothing wrong in enjoying your own stuff!!!

And I hope that you all enjoy it just the same~

-

The second time, he sits in a very expensive chair, specifically the one Mr Harrington occupies whenever he’s actually home and dealing with work from his office, the room covered in mahogany furniture and shiny leather seats. 

He spins around a few times, taking in the grand paintings on the walls, none of them of the family whose house this is, the glamorous curtains, the small and tasteful plants, and the head of a stag hanging in all its grandiose above the fireplace. Expensive, fancy, ostentatious. A showroom of importance and wealth.

Any one piece of furniture in this room costs more than Billy’s own house, and there is nothing Billy loathes more than rich assholes that think they can buy the world. Which just makes him defiling the heir to this fortune all the more fun for him.

The leather creaks underneath him as he stops spinning. From atop the desk he brings a glass of scotch to his lips, and gives it none of the respect Mr Harrington would believe it to be deserving of; simply bottoms out like it’s a shot of vodka. He licks his lips clean and swallows a few extra times to really enjoy his stealing of the oldest bottle in the liquor cabinet.

Then finally he stands up, slams the glass down with almost too much force on the dark wood, and walks around the desk to sit down in another leather chair, this one facing a couch on where Steve lies naked.

“Enjoying yourself, daddy?” he asks with a smile that runs from one ear to the other, on the verge of cracking his sexy facade.

And Billy laughs heartily at it, throws his head back a bit. “Oh don’t start on that, pretty boy! I am not ready to explore either of our daddy issues just yet.”

Steve can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, then settles it into something more smooth and delicate, teasingly so, as he runs a hand down his side, from chest to hip where it rests. He’s lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, his front turned fully toward where Billy admires the view - still dressed from head to toe - Steve’s cock hard from attention alone, the flushed head resting against the leather. And he waits patiently for whatever Billy has in mind.

When Steve had come home today, Billy had done the whole Marco-Polo charade till Steve found him pouring a drink from the glass bar behind the large desk. He hadn’t bothered complaining or asking any questions about why Billy is in his father’s office, simply sat down when commanded, and stripped without any hesitation when told. 

Now they’re looking at one another in silence. Billy spreads his legs as wide as the armrests will allow, and runs his hand rough up and down his girthy cock trapped inside denim still, and Steve’s dark and lustful gaze follows the movement attentively.

“You look amazing like this, Stevie,” Billy mutters, voice thick and salacious as he touches himself through too many layers. “I wanna watch you.”

Steve hums pleasantly and slowly starts slipping the hand on his hip down toward his full erection.

“You said last time you love watching me…” Fingertips graze against his cock, teasing and gentle and slight. “You ever watch me jerk off in private?”

Billy swallows hard, contemplating whether he should tell the truth or if that would be too intrusive to admit. But Steve has yet to get upset at Billy for any of his deviant behaviour. “Yeah, a few times.”

And for the truth he’s rewarded with Steve wrapping his fingers around himself, slowly moving up and down, squeezing around the head that leaks into his hand.

“Ah-h, good,” Steve’s voice starting to waver as he strokes his dick; wetting it with his own pre. “I think about you a lot when I masturbate, fuck, thinking about you at all gets me hard.”

Billy blinks slowly, wanting to meet Steve’s gaze but finds it impossible to look away from how Steve’s hand moves a bit faster. He removes his own hand from the bulge in his jeans and grips the armrests of the chair. 

“Do you ever finger yourself when you think of me?”

Steve licks his lips at that, and smiles with certain intent, although Billy doesn’t notice as he’s mesmerised as always by the way Steve touches his own throbbing prick.

“Not always, but whenever I do finger myself, I only think of you.”

“Show me,” Billy demands without hesitation - softly, but with no hint of ‘if you want to.’

But Steve wants to. His breath hitches at the stern tone to Billy’s words, the restraint in his movement clear as he slows down and eases his grip. 

“You want me to finger myself in front of you, here, in my father’s office, on his expensive couch?” Steve asks, incredulously, feigning reluctance, yet doesn’t stop the now lazy caress of his lengthy cock, keeps smiling, stays posing on his side.

Billy sits silent, doesn’t respond right away, instead he pulls up a small, inconspicuous, clear plastic bottle from the pocket of his shirt, and tosses it onto the couch.

“Yes.”

Steve looks at it; there’s no labels or text or anything, really the most boring and ordinary little container, but there is no doubt in his mind what it is.

“How do you want me?” he asks and finally meets with Billy’s eyes, a fire there burning hotter than the sun could ever dream of.

“However you do it when you’re alone - when I’m not here to fuck you into your mattress. Show me just how badly you want my thick cock.”

And as is often done in situations where words aren’t needed anymore, Steve simply bites his lip, keeps the bottle firm in his grasp, and gets up on his knees. He turns around on the couch, angling his perfect ass towards where Billy sits patiently like a statue, then bends forward; arching his back and spreading himself before his audience to grant a good look of everything. His leaking prick hanging between his legs, hole exposed fully.

“Fuck, Steve…” Billy nearly gasps at the view - didn’t expect to be this affected by it as he shuffles around in his seat, almost overwhelmed by the urge to just shove his tongue through Steve’s rim and eat him out till he’s cumming and crying. Billy adjusts the taut fabric of his jeans before settling in his place.

The cap of the bottle pops off loudly, lube drips onto Steve’s fingers, and with a careful motion, as to not waste a single drop, he brings his hand behind himself. He runs three digits flat and slick over his entrance, getting himself proper wet, staring straight at how attentively Billy watches, the self control damn impressive as those bluest of eyes twitch at the sight of Steve slipping in his middle finger.

Steve coos and keens, perhaps a bit excessive, perhaps egged on by the way Billy’s knuckles turn white as he strangles the leather armrests. He holds one hand on the back of the couch to keep himself steady as he quickly finds an all too pleasant rhythm that leaves him craving more.

Billy hasn’t been this turned on, this painfully erect, since the first time he saw someone play with themselves, back when he was 13 and stole a porn tape from a thrift store in Cali. He still has it hidden away, mostly for sentimental reasons now, because nothing can compare to watching Steve finger himself open, moaning and dripping worse when he adds a second finger.

“Ah-h, mmh- Billy,” Steve teases with his name on that lascivious tongue.

And every sound that escapes makes Billy’s lust boil hotter, bubbling under his skin, the urge to touch like a strong current pulling him under. Touch himself, touch Steve. 

It takes all of his strength not to stand up, close the short distance between them and drive in two fingers past that gorgeous clenching ring of muscle, opening up Steve faster so that Billy can fuck him hard into the leather of daddy’s dear couch, press his face against the cushions and have him cumming in less than a minute.

Steve pushes in a third finger, thighs trembling as he moans out, “Shit, oh-” with an overt shudder running through him as he hits just the right spot.

“Feel good, baby?” Billy asks softly, voice husky and smooth, as he unbuttons his shirt slowly.

“S-so good, ah-” Steve’s prick leaks onto the seat, between his knees, fingers pumping fervently in and out leaves him writhing as he abandons any sense of rhythm, and Billy recognizes the way he’s calling out, cursing, close to mumbling his words.

Knows that it won’t be too long now.

“Fuck, Billy! Billy- Billy-”

“Yeah?” Billy groans out, pleased with how erotic his name can sound when it comes from such a pretty mouth.

“I’m- I’m close.” Fingers go as deep as they can, as quick as they can, it’s almost kinda impressive how rapidly he moves those digits, and it all goes to show that this might be something he does more frequently than originally suggested.

Billy unbuckles his belt, flicks free the button of his jeans, and lets the zipper run loose, immediately bringing some sense of relief to his own pent-up, aching cock. He then removes his hands again, one elbow on the armrest, chin in hand as he continues to simply leer at how Steve fingers himself, how his brows are pulled high and tight, how his eyes can barely stay open as they fight the urge to roll back.

“Think you can cum untouched like this?” he asks, impatience apparent in his rumbling tone.

“N-no, fuck, ah-h-” Steve cries and bucks his hips onto his fingers.

“Hmm…” Billy hums like he’s dissatisfied with that response. “I’ve seen you do it before.”

“Mmhn, ahh, yes, yes- in your ha-ands, not- not on my own,” Steve whines and meets Billy’s gaze with all too sincere eyes.

And fuck if that doesn’t make Billy’s full erection kick and leak in its entrapment - to know that he can make King Steve cum on his fingers or dick alone is empowering, strokes his ego just right.

“Fuck, Stevie, baby,” Billy growls with exposed teeth all predatory and lecherous. "Touch yourself. Cum for me, all over daddy's expensive leather couch."

Steve doesn't waste time before he brings his other hand to his weeping prick, and as he wraps his fingers around it to eagerly jerk himself, Billy grunts lightly as his own cock twitches with overwhelming jealousy. 

It really doesn't take more than a few strokes till Steve buries his face against the backrest, crying out loud as he moves his fingers hard and precise, back arching in the most beautiful curve, spilling all over the dark seat as he pumps himself dry of every drop, thighs visibly tensing and quivering.

“Gorgeous,” Billy breathes out, convinced that his grip on the armrests will soon tear the leather apart, his underwear completely soaked with pre.

Steve’s arms fall till his palms rest against the leather seat, his entire being pulsating and shivering with every heavy breath, sounding like he just ran a marathon. But as he moves to change his position, perhaps get more comfortable, Billy intervenes-

“Didn’t say you could move,” there’s barely a hint of play to his tone, “Stay just like that for me.”

So Steve does just that - shuffles around a bit on his knees to kneel better, swallows thickly, and hangs his head low to look at Billy from between his legs.

Billy in turn finally pulls his pained cock free with a loud and telling grunt of relief, the air almost sharp in its coldness, but it’s soothed by his firm hand running up and down his slick erection. Already he knows that this won’t last nearly as long as he wants it to; feels it in the way the coil twists pliantly, thighs and abs flexing at his every move.

“Mmh- shit, arrh, baby I- I want you to show me- fuck- spread your ass out for me.”

And Steve obeys all too readily, moving his hands back to grab a full cheek in both to spread them as far apart as he can, exposing his fluttering hole, puffy and well loved.

The sight of it makes Billy’s hips buck off of his seat, an interrupting moan punches the air out of his lungs, his cock spurting pre something horribly, the sounds of his jerking motion obscene and loud and overwhelming as he grips himself harder- tight like how Steve’s ass would feel right now, wrapped around him, sucking him in, milking him dry, right here in his father’s office, soiling the leather, defiling the high and mighty importance with moans of the heir’s hole getting ravished-

Just the mere thought of what Billy might get to do with Steve in every single room of this house, all goddamn 12 of them, has him cumming in near record time - a loud and unexpected orgasm that crashes through him as he lifts up and into his hand, cursing loudly towards the ceiling, cum shooting all the way up his chest to clash with the sweaty tan skin, painting him in white, pumping till he’s sore and lets his cock go with a hiss.

Suddenly so exhausted he could probably fall asleep right here, eyes closed and struggling to catch his breath as he slumps in the chair. That is until hands land on both his knees, squeezing gently and caressing him, and when he opens his eyes to look down there’s Steve, kneeling between Billy’s legs, a slight smile and the most adoring gaze, a glorious vision that shoots straight through Billy’s heart and overstimulated cock simultaneously.

Before Billy gets to make the next move, Steve crawls closer, brings out his tongue to run it hot and flat over Billy’s flaccid dick, pulling forth a pained, “shit, ah-h!” then continues with soft kisses up his stomach, across his abs, till he reaches where cum has been splashed across Billy’s pecks. And under the watchful stare of blue skies, Steve lets out his tongue once more, licks a stripe through the white pool and swallows with an almost delighted little hum.

A whole show that Billy will play over and over in his head those few nights Steve isn’t around.

And Steve finishes his climb straddling Billy’s thighs, kissing him deeply and passionately, as if he’s not satiated quiet yet, mixing the taste of them with dancing tongues, sweet and salty and strong still with an aftertaste of scotch.

[mrslittletall]

It is now time for my review of Nier Replicant... and I won't put all the numbers in there! Who decided to name the game like this? Let's go over my points as usual. Graphics As a remastered games, of course they weren't the best. The character models looked fine, but were pretty stuff, the backgrounds were a bit muddy. The cut scenes looked really well though, loved how smoothly everything was animated and the character expressions. What I also liked was the boss design. They got some really unique designs in there and the effect on the shades was really cool with that ripple of letters appearing on them. Music/Sound OMFG, like Automata, the game SHINES here. The music is amazing, there is literally not a single bad song in the OST, a lot of them turned into my favourite songs of all time and I could stand in the Aerie and listen to Cold Steel Coffin for hours. Outside of the area and battle songs, there are a LOT of emotional songs for cutscenes to set the mod. They are so fitting and wonderful, beautiful. And the best thing? At certain parts of the game the emotional song replaces the area song for a while, letting you dweel in the feels for a while longer. Like in Automata, lyrics are used in a lot of the songs, in the chaos language often, which adds even more depth to the already high quality songs. While in Automata most lyrics were clearly duets or like songs though, in Replicant a lot of the lyrics are actually "ominous chanting". But it works, it works so well. "The Lost Stone", "The Aerie", "Snow in Summer", all have ominous chanting and I wouldn't have it any other way. Some of the songs even get into a music box version. The moment in the Shadowlord fight when the music changes into the music box version? That hits me every single time, every single damn time. Outside of the music, the voice acting. It's phenomenal. Every major character (I played with english voices) has such a good voice and delivers their lines beautifully. Brother Nier and his childlike naivetity in the beginning, turning to bitterness and rage as an adult, Kainé whose voice actor clearly had fun delivering all the f-bombs, Emil, with the voice of a cute innocent young boy and my favourite, Grimoire Weiss, whose voice drips sarcasm and which I absolutely love. And even the side characters had great voices, like Devola and Popola or the Red-Bag-Couple. Every single NPC was voiced as well, even the ones without names and I didn't find their voices to be annoying. Only voice that annoyed me was kid Gideon. Gameplay Ok, I can't praise the game too much here. It's not a bad game, not at all, BUT... Let's start with the good things. The battle system works well. You can use the four trigger buttons to use martial arts or magic and use your weapon with the square and the triangle button (yeah, I played on PS4). You have a range of different weapons, but there isn't really much difference between them. In the end I just equipped the weapon with the highest atk power. Upgrading all of them feels like a waste of time, unless you really want to read those weapon stories. The bosses are pretty unique and have to be fought in different approaches, but of course there are also a few "hit them until they stagger" bosses. The magic is pretty fun to use and you can use word edit to customize it a bit. Ok, but now the buts... That were mostly the sidequests. A few of them were fine and really worth it... and then I got a sidequest that was like "Bring me ten titanium alloys and ten broken lens." Which are super fucking rare items! So you basically ran into the same area multiple times to farm them and earn like 20.000 G for it.... and you probably have so much money already that you don't even need it. Yeah, a lot of the sidequests boiled down to "Farm some materials for me". Even Brother Nier commented on it, because he often said "That will take a while." I would have wished for more side quests like in Automata, they certainly bettered the process there. I just wonder why they didn't tone down the farming sidequests

in the Remaster a bit. Farming for rare items is a drag in this game and you sadly need it for 100 % (remember all the weapons to upgrade?) So yeah, definitely don't rec to 100 % this. Maybe do the sidequests, but I wouldn't do all of them a second time. Also, in order to see all the endings, you have to play through the second half of the game a bunch. That gets a bit repetitive... Story/Lore Yeah, time to SHINE again. I know this sounds strange, because I was a bit bummed that Nier Automata left so much lore outside of the game, but that kinda didn't bother me here? Probably for once, because my friend explained it to me and second, because the main point of the lore/story I could figure out myself. At first, the game left me pretty confused. We were in 2053, it snowed in summer and there were these kids, these shade creatures and these books and everything went horrible horrible wrong. And then we were 1.400 years later and saw the same kid and his sister just walking around like nothing happened? What? Regardless, I moved on and slowly unraveled the mysteries. Halfway through route A I thought that shades might be humans, but didn't had all the puzzle pieces yet. Only at the very end was it clear what happened. Also, thanks to Automata I knew about Devola and Popola being androids. Like my friend put it "They are the biggest walking spoiler for Nier in Automata." But like... I absolutely love the lore and the story of the game. See, the story is about Nier wanting to rescue his sister. Of course we should be on his side, right? Those big bad shadow creatures got her! Of course he is our hero! But then Route B happens and we get to see the side of the shades... and it turns out that they never were the bad guys at all. In truth, neither the Gestalts nor the Replicants are the bad guys here. I read in a Youtube comment that Yoko Taro designed the game about "Humans will be able to kill other people when they think they are right." That is what Nier is about. That is literally what the game is about. The last battle with the Shadowlord? Just a desperate brawl between two boys who both think they are in the right. We see this a lot in the shade stories, but it is especially prevelant in the story about the wolves and the shades in the Shadowlord's castle. The story... is about humanity... and somehow it tells a beautiful story about humanity, even though there aren't humans in the game anymore... Also, the main characters? Adorable, great, precious! I love all of them! I love Brother Nier, I love Kainé, I love Emil, I love Grimoire Weiss. They are written so WELL. I definitely feel like I want to hunt down the lore that got omitted this time, because I very much fell in love with the world of Nier. Hm, maybe when I play Automata again with the Nier knowledge stuff makes more sense as well... Overall: I give this game an absolute rec when you like good music and good stories! And when you want your heart ripped out of your chest and trampled over it several time.

[nemesis729]

I would love, love, love to read your full thoughts ❤

Okay, *cracks fingers*, sit tight because this may be a beast to type out and it may take a few more rereads and some block quotes for me to do a full in-depth analysis. Translation: I’m going to try to do a full-on essay with this because there’s a lot to unpack.

Really, it all boils down to one thing. Billy has a lot to learn. That’s basically been my thought since Reader called it quits at the gala. 

Since the inception of the arrangement, Billy kept the reader at arms’ length. The Reader was aware enough (due to her childhood, most likely) that Billy would run for the hills if anything resembling emotions and relationships were to enter the equation. So, of course, she decided to settle for what he could give her. Okay, yeah, it’s amazing sex but, after a while, it can leave a person cold if there’s little to no emotion involved. In any case, after the wake-up call, Reader decides that she wants more than the scraps and isn’t willing to settle for what he’s giving her. When she ends it with Billy, he’s completely blind-sided because, all of a sudden, without him noticing, Reader is showing that she isn’t as biddable as he expected her to be. I wouldn’t be surprised if, at the gala, he expected her to fall in line when he had her up against a column. 

Anyway, I digress. If anything, because Reader was easy-going in his eyes and he didn’t care enough to observe her during the almost-year of their arrangement, I shouldn’t be surprised that he didn’t understand why she ended things. Seriously, you can’t just pay attention to what’s being said. You also have to pay attention to what’s not being said. 

That’s kind of what I wanted to rant about for chapters 1 through 3. This essentially sums up Billy’s thoughts on the reader:

Up until last Saturday, you had barely been a blip on his radar. Sure you guys were fuck buddies and he liked your easygoing personality, but the thing he appreciated most about you was that you were low maintenance. You didn’t demand anything from him emotionally and that meant he didn’t have to put in any effort into the relationship.

This, in itself, is very telling. For me, it brings home the idea that the arrangement mostly benefitted Billy. Since we, as the audience, know that Reader felt more for Billy than he did for her, we’re left thinking, “wow, what a douchebag,” about him. Like, seriously, during those months they were together, he didn’t make little observations about the reader? No filing away about what her preferences are? Her tics? 

If you were someone he cared about he may have gone over to check on you or made more of an effort to get in touch but, really, he couldn’t be bothered.

That basically summed up the first arc of Reader and Billy’s relationship, such as it was. And, when she decided that enough was enough and she deserved something more substantial, all of a sudden, she’s interesting and now he wants her. 

At this point, I want to say that the tables have turned. Except, I can’t. Maybe. Possibly. Before, Reader suffered in silence about her feelings where she stood in Billy’s life because she was self-aware and able to read the room with regards to Billy. She knew him enough that any discussion about the future and commitments were a no-go for him. Now, when Reader doesn’t want anything to do with him, Billy wants her. As I previously pointed out in my last reply, does he want her for her or is it a point of pride because she was the one that ended it first and not him?

It’s, as the kids say, pretty sus.

Anyhoo, the latest installment of “A Woman Scorned.” What a doozy. The chapter had everything from tension, UST, and protective best friends. 

Davina is the best friend we all wish we had and what we aspire to be. I love how protective she is over the reader. I also enjoyed how judgmental she was at Billy’s lack of knowledge about reader. Here are my favorite scenes:

“Billy Russo.”

Davina ignored his hand, lifting her eyebrow. “I don’t like you.”

“Clearly.”

“And I don’t like that you’re messing around with my friend.”

Billy stood up straight, concerned. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. She texted me and told me she couldn’t make it. If I didn’t have to host this thing, I’d be at her place right now. I think she’s a bit freaked out.”

He placed his drink back on the bar. “I’ll go over and see her.”

“What do you want with her?”

This time he couldn’t hide his annoyance. “Enough with the third degree. I’m just going to check up on her. Unless you want her to be alone right now?”

Davina’s eyes narrowed. She was gauging him carefully to see whether he could be trusted or not. At first he had no idea which decision she landed on, but the eventual resignation gave her away. “Let her know I’ll come by tomorrow.”

“Y/N’s not the type to admit when something’s wrong. With her, it’s like pulling teeth.”

“But she has a tell. When she’s upset, she buys shoes.”

“You’ve been sleeping with her for months and you don’t know what she likes?”

As much as Davina would love to keep Billy from Reader, she knows something happened and she knows a familiar face might help Reader in some way or another. Judging by the resignation, she probably wouldn’t be surprised if reader fell into bed with Billy while she’s vulnerable.

Anyhoo, I said it once and I’ll say it again. Billy has a lot to learn.

It was obvious Davina hated him, which made him wonder if that’s why you’d decided to cut him off so suddenly. He filed the question away in his brain, making a mental note to find out the answer from you at some point.

Read the room, Billy! For someone so smart, he has the emotional awareness of a rock. Maybe he’s thinking with the wrong head? That’s something to consider.

During that time when Billy visited reader, his takeaway should be paying attention to what the reader isn’t saying as well as what she is. At the gala, he pointed out that the reader is closed off. That should’ve given him some sign that there’s something more going on.  

He cocked his eyebrow. “Maybe it’s just you I need to learn more about.”

“I think it’s a little late for that.”

Right now, if we’re heading towards the official end of the relationship (and, in the reader’s eyes, we are), this is the epitome of “too little, too late”.

“It’s never too late.” His eyes were suddenly intense, in a way you were only used to seeing when he was angry or turned on. “Maybe you can show up at my place one night, wearing that robe, your favourite heels and nothing else.”

Billy is pretty optimistic that they will still be together. Enough said.

“No. You don’t know what I like.”

He leaned forward, eyes seductively drifting down to your lips. “I have a pretty good idea of what gets you off.”

“Yeah, but what gets me off and what I like might be two different things.”

Billy, I like you but you really need to pay attention and take notes! Of course he would be observant on what gets reader off but has he ever observed her in a non-sexual but intimate way? Somehow, I doubt it. 

“You grew up rich, didn’t you?” he taunted, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because only someone who has money would say it doesn’t matter.”

You laughed, chugging the remainder of your wine. If he only knew. “Sure, Billy.”

The fact that she doesn’t say anything more about her family should speak volumes. See the other receipts:

“You have a lot of pictures up,” he remarked. “But there isn’t a single one of you with your family. There’s no sign of them in your apartment.”

“I’m not close to my family.”

“So you and the fam don’t get along?” he probed.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Billy,” you whined, taking a sip of your drink. “I don’t want to talk about my family.”

The reader’s childhood is next-level levels of messed up. If her father was like that, I can only imagine how her mother is. And since she doesn’t have pictures of any of her family, I can say that her mother wasn’t Mrs. Brady. 

One thing I can say about Billy is that at least he didn’t take advantage of reader while she was vulnerable. 

Billy’s jaw was clenched with anger but you told yourself it wasn’t because of you. He was simply pissed Anvil’s competitor was still more successful despite their negligence.

Whether he knows it or not, he cares about her. Knowing the reader, she thinks that he’s more upset on behalf of Anvil as a form of self-preservation. If she were more secure about what they are to each other, she would know that he’s angry because she was in danger. Unfortunately, because she realized that she probably won’t be more to Billy than a bedwarmer, it’s dangerous for her to think that way. 

Still, I have to admit that I liked how he just hugged her. Whether it was in comfort or to lead to something more...that’s going to be a problem in the next chapter. But, in that moment, he sensed Reader needing comfort and did something about it. That might be a smidgeon of growth right there.

Okay, wow, that was way longer than I thought. So, here are my final thoughts:

Billy’s an asshole but he’s our asshole and we love him. Even when he’s earnestly pursuing Reader, he’s still an ass. Reader is more guarded than ever because of the suppressed feelings she had for Billy combined with seeing him with Madani and her insecurities. It’s a horrible trifecta. 

It doesn’t help that Billy’s pursuing her and attempting to woo her when all she wants is distance. He definitely has his work cut out for him because Reader isn’t going to make this easy. Aside from her childhood, she already had a sample of “fuckboy” Billy. She’s familiar with that version of him. And she wants more than a fuckboy. She wants more than that and she knows that Billy can’t give her that more. Naturally, she’s going to keep him at arms and legs length.  

This constant push and pull is highly entertaining and I can’t wait to read more. I’m sorry this review was way too long and rambling but I couldn’t stop once I got going. I hope I wasn’t being too hard on Billy. I feel like I am. (I probably am.)

Love! 

[koganeirou]

Alright I finished Crimson Flower and after letting my thoughts marinate for a bit, I decided to do a very long write up on my thoughts. Despite the fact that I made a beeline for black eagles the moment I got the game because I had an extreme feverish passion for El at first, my thoughts on this route are unfortunately mostly negative. This is the first and only route I played so far, and I know very little about the events that transpire in the other routes.

Five thousand disclaimers that these are just my opinions that may or may not change when I play the other routes and it’s not meant to discredit folks who like Crimson Flower. Also there will be spoilers.

For starters, I think the story does a terrible job at convincing you that Edelgard’s actions are justified or even necessary. This route felt less like fighting to change the world for the better and more like a savage conquest with every chapter being El going like “we gotta kill this guy now” and I’m like “but why” and El’s like “WE JUST GOTTA”. I guess the right way to say it is that El’s route lacked emotional impact. I could not celebrate her victories with her because my only reaction was “was that really necessary” and “buddy why”. It ultimately felt like El was simply solving problems by creating more problems.

Instead of just saying “I want to uproot a societal system from its core so I have to overthrow the Church”, the story opts for El to give incredibly vague and wishy washy reasons on why the Church Is Bad. Something something, they’re not really humans and twist history??? The story forces you to do some crazy mental gymnastics to try and see El’s side of the story when everything just boils down to “Crests are Bad = Church is Bad”.

In Part 1, there was a lot of build up of the church’s obvious corruption and how they’re not to be trusted, but the build up falls flat because the story tries to make the reveal of Rhea’s beast form be the damning thing to convince the player that the church is so terrible that they have to be stopped even at the cost of thousands of lives... and well... in a franchise where almost everyone is secretly a dragon, that just did not sell me. 

We’ve been knew that Crests Are Bad but does that justify sacrificing thousands of lives to upheave the church? I dunno man..................................... the story doesn’t really put much effort to convince you that this is the Only Way and it doesn’t feel like El has put much thought into trying alternative solutions before jumping straight to murder because it was the easiest solution. Which sucks because I think exploring El’s methods and mindset would definitely make for an interesting conflict. The whole idea of if war is never justifiable, is it better to let everyone remain suffering under the status quo forever? El’s belief that nothing will change unless she takes direct action has validity to it, but the game just expects you to agree with her from the get go so El never truly has to stand firm and defend her values.

Edelgard’s decision to unify Fodlan is something I really, really side eye. She’s straight up invading sovereign lands and putting them under her own rule of her own volition. While yes, Church Is Bad, barging into someone else’s land uninvited to dictate how they rule their government and “fix their society” is ultimately something I find incredibly self righteous and arrogant. This idea of “fighting for peace” through not just instigating a war, but going on a violent conquest just seems... disingenuous to me? How does she plan on dealing with the lingering resentment from the folks whose land were conquered? She’s just replacing the crest system with an Empire who will murder anyone who stands against them which... makes her literally no different from what Rhea was.

The above point is mainly due to her whole tirade into the alliance which just felt extremely unnecessary, especially when Claude was trying to keep the alliance in a neutral stance. El’s reasoning for conquering the alliance because “some of the nobles oppose me” was really flimsy like... maybe they wouldn’t oppose you if you just left them alone instead of making them choose between handing over their independence or having their land burnt to the ground. 

Her dialogue with and about Dimitri is ridiculous because she criticizes him for being consumed by hatred and obsession and “losing his path as a king” but...... bruh, you’re STILL invading his country, so even if Dimitri wasn’t a raging murder man, he’d still oppose you because did you just expect a king to simply Hand Over His Land and not defend himself????? 

The absolute worst, worst part of CF isn’t even Edelgard herself but how the other students react to her. It feels like none of the beagles and especially the other house characters except Lysithea have any real reason to side with her, and even if they did (which wouldn’t be surprising because we see how the crests ruined so many lives), these valid reasons are never brought up and it’s overshadowed by almost everyone lamenting “is this bloodshed even necessary?” (news flash: probably not). But why the FUCK are you guys even siding with her in the first place if you're gonna regret it afterwards or don’t actually agree with her? You don’t just side with an instigator of war with half baked resolves, and the convictions of these characters aren’t even quarter baked. 

This wouldn’t be too bad if not for the fact that the beagle kids themselves also seem to have more reasons to turn on El than to fight for her. Especially when Edelgard has done nothing to ever prove herself trust worthy. Hell, CF is kicked off with Edelgard betraying everyone and revealing herself to be the Flame Emperor, which is literal admittance to her association with the slithers. Yet no one seems to put two and two together and just decides to blindly trust and follow her without second thought because... why? Who knows!!! As Sothis so eloquently puts it, they’re all boulders just rolling down whatever hill they’re on, and I could not stand how little agency and independent thought that the other characters showed. It felt like El was the driver while everyone else was just strapped into the passenger seat, mindlessly going along with the ride. No questions, no thoughts, no challenges, and to top it off, it doesn’t even feel like any of them truly believe in what they’re fighting for because they never bring up the validity of El’s ideals or the consequences of her actions. 

The beagles had the group dynamic of a wet paper bag. Lysithea is the one of the only characters who actively shows any real agency for fighting for Edelgard and firmly voices how El’s goals compare to her personal values, which is a stark difference to everyone else who has a "¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I guess this is my life now” type attitude to an infuriating degree. 

Byleth siding with El also has me doing extreme shifty eyes. I can get behind them making an emotionally charged decision to defend her from Rhea but holy crap I saved you from Rhea because I didn’t want you to die, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving you the okay to murder all your classmates!! The game expects the player to take a huge leap of faith when siding with Edelgard, thinking “she has to have a proper explanation for this” and cue.... no explanation ever, until like... five years later. El’s relationship with the beagles felt disingenuous because she actively breaches the trust of others, lies to others, hides crucial information from others (slithers, anyone?), and nobody cares. She straight up lies about the church nuking Arianrhod and it’s never addressed.

The issue with the slithers and Byleth’s dad is even worse because it is never addressed until well into the route, and it’s brought up by not El, but fucking Hubert. Not to mention El is giant jackass to Byleth after their dad died even though he died because of her damn accomplices. We’re supposed to just lie down and accept the slithers’ presence because “well they’re necessary for our plans” even though we curb stomped the entire continent by ourselves, so I dunno why we can’t just shank them now. The slithers literally did nothing aside from chill around, maybe blow up a city or two to spite El. It’s ridiculous how the organization who is directly responsible for El’s abuse and trauma has no on screen resolution when frankly, I think the slithers deserve El’s animosity far more than the church. 

Despite my extreme criticism towards El, I want to stress that I don’t hate El. In fact, I love her character a lot and I think she’s really fascinating. However, I think CF really shot her characterization in the foot because it doesn’t feel like El really grew or developed or changed. She stubbornly believed that her actions were right at the beginning and by the end of the game, she still believes her actions were right because the story doesn’t really bother to try and prove her otherwise. I just think she’s much more suited as an antagonist, and I’m excited to see her portrayal in the other routes. Sorry El, I love you, but I would never in a million years side with you.

To end this salt fest on a positive note, I will say the route had three things I enjoyed: the ending, Mercedes and Jeritza’s support, and Edelgard and Lysithea’s support. Seriously, I would not have so many complaints if the rest of the route had the same amount of emotional tension and feeling as El and Lysithea’s support. I enjoyed the ending fairly much; the final battle in the burning city was epic as hell and so was the final cutscene. The scene where El sobs in Byleth’s chest after Byleth’s heart beat returns was extremely touching to me. So because I liked the ending enough, at the very least I was able to finish the play through on a somewhat content note. Also random side note but Edelgard’s seiyuu is amazing.

Anyway my order from favourite to least favourite beagle kids are Dorothea > Edelgard > Ferdie > Bernie > Linhardt > Petra > Hubert > Caspar.

tldr: my experience with crimson flower

[disappearing-rose]

Heyya darling! Such a cool non-US ask game, so here a bunch of numbers for you: 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 16, 19, 20, 26, 28 (just wanna know your favourites, I kow your country has plenty of beautiful, beautiful nature :P) xoxo, - alexa

Ahh, Alexa, honey, thank you so much for the ask!❤ Now, this is a long one so *cracks knuckles* brace yourselves.

1. Favorite place in your country?

Well, my favorite place would have to be the island I live on. I like places where you are close to nature, with trees and mountains and, most importantly, the sea. So my home island is definitely my favorite place in Norway, by far. No place like home, right? ;-)

2. Prefer spending your holidays in your country or abroad?

Hmm... a little bit of both. The only time we really travel is during the summer holidays. For example, right now I'm in Crete, boiling and wanting to shed my own skin, it's so fucking hot. But sometimes we've just driven down to Oslo to spend a couple of days there, exploring our capital. But during Easter and Christmas we stay at home. So while I like getting out of the country sometimes, I always look forward to going back home. In case you can't tell already, I'm a home body;-)

4. Favorite dish specific for your country?

Does Grandiosa (Norwegian frozen pizza brand) count? We don't eat much traditional food in my family, but one of the weirdest and coolest to tell people about is "smalahove" ( boiled sheep's head with eyes and (sometimes) the brain intact. And everything is eaten).

5. Favorite song in your native language?

Ooh, I like both "God Morgen, Min Kjære" (Good Morning, My Love) by Benny Borg, though I listen to Hanne Sørvaag's version the most, and Sissel Kyrkjebø's "Se Ilden Lyse" which also has an English version, "Fire In Your Heart". It was the song for the 1994 Olympics in Lillehammer and they are both beautiful. "God Morgen, Min Kjære" always makes me emotional and "Se Ilden Lyde" makes me patriotic and long for the winter and snow.

7. Three words from your native language that you like the most?

Kjærleik (love), the nynorsk version of the bokmål word 'kjærlighet'.

Æva (enternity), the nynorsk version of the bokmål word 'evighet'.

Melankoli (melancoly).

(For reference, we have two written languages in Norway: nynorsk and bokmål. Nynorsk is based the dialects around villages and places/ islands away from the city, like where I live, and bokmål is based on the Danish language and how they spoke in upper class Oslo in the 1800's. They also have bokmål- like dialects in eastern Norway today. The words are spelled and pronounced differently, but the meanings are the same, in Norwegian and English).

8. Do you get confused with other nationalities? If so, which ones and by whom?

We often get confused by Americans ( I think, but don't take my word for it) as being Swedish, as some think that Norway is the capital of Sweden. Though, if you wanna get technical, we used to be in a union with Sweden, from ca. 1814 to 1905, after they won us from Denmark.

Psst! I recommend you read up on Norwegian history, especially from around the middle ages to the present day, it's SUPER interesting!

9. Which of your neighboring countries would you like to visit most/ know best?

I'd love to visit Russia and learn their language, I think it's so beautiful. I'd also like to visit Sweden, as my great- great- grandfather was from Sweden and I'd like to improve my Swedish as well.

10. Most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

"Faen!" It means "damn" in English, but in Norwegian it's actually a fancier word/name for Satan/ the devil. I also like the phrase "faen i helvete", which litterally means 'the devil in hell" and I use it quite frequently.

11. Favorite native writer/poet?

I love Henrik Ibsen to death! There is a reason why people call him the second best writer to ever live, after Shakespeare.

13. Does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

We probably have a few, but the only one that comes to mind is that we don't open our Christmas presents on Christmas Day/ Boxing day morning. In stead, on Christmas Eve, we dress up all fine, you know, dresses and suitpants and shirts, and eat Christmas dinner. Then we gather together and one person gets up, read out the labels on the presents and hand them out to the person they are for. And then, when everyone has gotten their presents, we open them together, not one by one. Then we have dessert later and enjoy family time. Sometimes it's just my immediate family, sometimes it's my entire mother's side as well.

16. Which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

Ohh, this is a good question. There are quite a few that I hate, and it's difficult to pick just one. The one about polar bears roaming free in the streets is one that always irks me, but is also funny. (BTW, they don't, at least not in the main land. The only polar bears that exists in Norway is on Svalbard, an island very north of Norway.) Or the one about everyone being tall, blonde and blue-eyed, which is not the case. (Yes, I'm blonde, but I'm 5' 4" and my eyes are green).

Another one is that people consider us rude. That is not the case. We consider it polite to not unnecessarily bother a stranger with, for example, small talk and we just respect other people's personal space. It doesn't mean we are cold or rude.

However, I do somewhat agree with the fact that we are a 'cold' people, just not in the way people think. We are very... introverted, I suppose you could say. For example, we don't ask strangers for help unless we absolutely have to and we generally avoid sitting next to people on the buss, prefering to sit alone. And we don't randomly go up to people we don't know and strike up a conversation about the weather, which is why we might seem a little frazzled when strangers/ tourists ask us questions or for directions. We just prefer our own space and company. But we are a very, very polite people who are happy to help, despite our perhaps confused exterior, and who smile quite a bit. Sure, you might run into some grumpy people, but who hasn't had a bad day in their life?

19. Do you like your country's flag and/or emblem? What about the national anthem?

🎶Det er Norge i rødt, hvitt og blått!🎶 I love our country's flag, it always make me exited to see it during the Olympics or while walking around the streets in other countries. I love our national anthem as well! The lyrics, written by the wonderful Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, contains so much love for our country and describes it so well. The melody, I have to admit, is a little slow and melancolic- sounding compared to other nations', but I can't imagine it being any other way, nor do I want to!

20. Which sport is The Sport in your country?

Many, many, maaany people will say soccer, and I suppose they are right, as it is the sport with the most supporters and what they talk about the most. Personally though, I prefer handball, mostly because it's a sport at which our national team is actually good at. Our women's team has won both the European Championships and World Championship several times through the years. Has the soccers teams ever done that? Yeah, I don't think so, my friend.

26. Does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? What do you think about the portrayal?

I don't think so, at least not a lot. And if they do I think they often portray us as barbaric Vikings, stupid blondes, or bad at English. And I've never seen an American movie/ tv- show where they portray someone Norwegian, so I don't really know what I think about it.

28. Does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? Do you have favorites?

If anyone has ever seen photos of litterally anywhere in Norway, you'll know that we have the most stunningly beautiful nature. Tall, strong mountains, long, winding rivers, big lakes you can swim in, deep, long fjords, small waterfalls. Norway is full of nature and the nature alone is worth a visit. As for favorites, I can't choose as I barely seen it all, but the Geiranger fjord is gorgeous, though packed with tourists and cruise ships in the summer, but its beauty never fails to amaze me, espacially from a high vantage point.

PS: If you are ever going to visit Norway, I suggest getting out of the big towns like Oslo, Bergen and Trondheim, as the most stunning nature is along the roads, highways and smaller towns. Also, most of our fjords are situated along the entire west coast, so be prepared to take ferry boats to cross them.

[mulansays]

Hello, my dear readers! 

So, I’ve been a little missing in action this week, haven’t I? Well, I can’t say much on the topic without losing my job... Let’s just say, there may or may not be a debut in the works for a few of the kids at the company I work for. This means I’m spread out fairly thin and working at weird hours of the night on minimal sleep, so please be patient with me as I try and balance my job and this blog!

Enough about me. It’s been almost a week since the MGA’s episode four, and boy do I have some things to say.

Let’s start with Team A as usual. I had mixed feelings about this team, mostly because I’ve never tried to hide my disliking of a certain member here. While he turned me off of the group, I still do especially enjoy the rest of the members! In the last episode, we really got to see Jinhee shine as a dancer and leader, but with this performance, I realized that her vocal ability is really average… I guess it’s okay because she’s such an extraordinary dancer. I was shocked with her wig though; was she trying to be Hannah Montana or something? It was kind of lame. If you’re going to go for pink hair, commit to it like Junmyeon and Jonghyun did instead of doing some odd wig show. I’ll be honest, a lot of this team didn’t leave an impression on me, which is sad because last week I mentioned how amazed I was by Jeno and Hyunjin’s dancing. There was nothing special about the choreography. I have to say though, Hyunjin articulates very maturely for such a young kid. His speech inspired me, and if he were to grow older and join an idol group, that’s some leader-worthy pep talks right there. He also pulled off a tough rap decently, so I think I like this kid. I was relieved when Jeno was eliminated rather than him (sorry, Lee Jeno!) I thought Jonghyun should have been the one to go home instead, but I’m not exactly going to she tears over the decision.

Team B was… such a mess. While Guanlin was cute with his heavy accent, he impressed me with how much his pronunciation while rapping had improved. It wasn’t perfect, but it was certainly better than before (and maybe even better than my Korean had been within the first few months of moving here).  Kim Bora really deserved the leader title here, and I hate this whole “leaders can’t be repeated” because obviously, if you appoint someone who’s unfit to lead, your team is screwed. God, my blood has never boiled more than when I saw Junhoe’s attitude. Being a group leader is no joke, but he treated it as if it didn’t matter? I wanted to slap him and send him off the show. When you’re an idol, you can’t act like that, especially in the public eye. There’s a fine line between being mysterious and being a dick, and he crossed that by miles. I’m happy Bora whipped him into shape, but even then, to me it felt like he was trying to have all the spotlight. Besides that, I felt bad for Donghyun and I hope his foot is okay. He really can’t dance though, so thank God they did an easier choreography (yet he still managed to mess that up but whatever). Oh, I almost forgot to mention Wonwoo LOL! Seriously, he got no screen time and he has negative stage presence, so can you blame me? I was hoping for him to get eliminated this week, but then this team ranked 3rd… I was disappointed. I don’t think that weak performance deserved to rank that high. The song choice was fun though.

Team C… Okay, this is going to sound real bitchy, but like, has anyone else noticed how weirdly Yoongi talks? It stuns me every time, and I know it’s not his fault, but sometimes I just want to plug my ears when he opens his mouth. I was pleasantly surprised, though, to see him evolve from an awkward guy begging Hyuna for help, to a proper leader. Though, she carried him through it like a baby, but still, he was standing on his own two legs by the end. Speaking of Hyuna, can she just stick to rapping instead of mediocre singing? I know people were freaking out about it but she’s really just… LOL. I’m really glad Minhyung got eliminated this week. Compared to the rest of his team, he’s so lacking, and I hate using age as an excuse, but he was too young and immature to be in the competition. There are others around the same age, but they have mental maturity, whereas this kid runs out when he gets frustrated? He would never last long in the industry with that mindset. I hope he fixes that before trying again. Other than that, you know I just have to comment on Kim Doyeon. She looks like a natural on stage, and she really has it all: a pretty face, perfect proportions, charisma, vocal ability, and she’s a good dancer. Share that, please, Doyeon? As for Moon Bin, I think he deserved more screen time. Maybe he’s just boring, I don’t know, but I was sad. He has a lovely voice and stage presence. MNET, do the kid some justice!

You guys probably know that one of my least favourite contestants was in Team D. Yes, I’m talking about Minatozaki Sana, and this episode really didn’t give her a redemption arc in my heart. She still has an attitude about losing out to someone else on her team and doesn’t even try to hide it. It just makes the whole team atmosphere feel awkward when she sulks, and it made me uncomfortable to watch. Even when Haknyeon tried to cheer up (so sweet, by the way, and was he flirting a little or am I imagining things?) she was so… I don’t want to dislike her. Sana is a good dancer, but she just feels really fake and bratty. Pfft, and MNET tried to edit Yerim to have that personality but they edit Sana so you feel bad for her. I won’t be fooled though. This team also had another case of poor leadership. Jungkook had the title, but he treated it exactly like that—as if it was only a title and didn’t hold any responsibility. I’m pretty sure I said this last time, too, but he has no stage presence whatsoever! As a dancer, that’s so vital, and it’s probably the biggest flaw to have. I wasn’t surprised to see him eliminated. Oh, and Choi Youngjae… He’s such a good vocalist, but he can’t dance, so I wonder why the team chose such a dance-centered song. On a happier note, Longguo’s cat is so cute. Him and Haknyeon being cat ladies made me smile because it’s so relatable and their friendship is adorable. I really like Joo Haknyeon. He’s a flower, quite fitting with the concept. Not only was he a sweetheart to every contestant on the team, but he also gave his best. Even though his nose bled, he kept practicing by himself to make sure his performance was perfect. I’m amazed.

I don’t really have much to say about Team E. They barely had any screen time. There wasn’t anything memorable from these participants (whether scandalous or not), despite the fact that they chose such a powerful song. Maybe that’s where they went wrong. Choi Yoojung danced and rapped well, Kyungri held her own while dancing and singing. Lee Luda was really naive at the beginning, thinking the dance would be easy. At least she wasn’t the worst dancer in the group though—I think she’s rather average, enough to blend in. Plus, she doesn’t need to dance when she can sing like a goddess. Taehyung was really lacking. He was an okay leader, but all he can do is rap. His dancing was atrocious; why did he agree to such a hard choreography anyways? Personally, I think he should have been eliminated instead of Juyeon, because out of everyone, Juyeon was the most well balanced in every aspect. I’m sad to see him go, and I wish him the best of luck.

Can we just talk about Team F’s introduction? Ha Sungwoon called himself “bananappa” and that made me cringe so hard. Was he on crack? LOL kidding, but seriously. That’s so weird. His nickname aside, I think he made a really good leader. The thing with Sungwoon is that he really supplied a positive atmosphere with the group. Watching their interactions, you could see they were genuinely happy and friendly, whether they were practicing or not. It was quite refreshing, really, which I guess is why they gave themselves the name “Fresh and Fruity” or whatever it was. I’d like to see this group of people debut together, in all honesty. They have a good balance: Sungwoon as the main vocal and leader, Mingyu as the main rapper, Jinsoul and Yerim as lead vocals and dancers. It’s also a perfect ratio of females to males, so they could be kind of like the co-ed group KARD? Anyways, there’s not much to say about them because they were so good and I really enjoyed the performance (another story within a choreography, Sungwoon seems to be good at that). I definitely think they could have been third place; I don’t know what’s wrong with the CEO’s. The dance to Shine isn’t all that hard. Rather than being a good dancer, you just need charisma to pull off the trendy moves in the chorus, and everyone in this team (especially Jinsoul) have enough. Shout out to Yerim, though, who MNET decided not to evil edit this time, instead cutting her out completely. We see you and your hard work. All in all, I thought this team was doomed since Lee Minhyuk pulled out of the competition last minute (you’re really going to let your group members down? Okay), but they did well.

Buckle in for the wild ride that Team G will take you on. I really wasn’t ready. So, there’s an obvious elephant in the room: Lee Sungyeol. In my last post, I talked about how I thought he was too old to be an idol now, and I still stand by it. If anything, this episode only solidified my opinion. Really, what kind of an aspiring idol has a fucking kid? And he so shamelessly showed it off on television for the whole nation to see. Has anyone ever seen an idol that’s freshly debuted, have a toddler? It’s insane! If you have one, at least try to hide it. Already, his age sets him apart from everyone else, along with his lack of skill (Sungyeol is an average singer at best, he can’t dance, and he barely has stage presence). But like, dude, you really want to pursue a career as an idol when you have a kid to take care of? You’ll have no time for the kid, will barely see them, and idols don’t exactly make the most money unless you hit it big, which he definitely can’t do. You need a steady, reliable source of income or else your kid will suffer. Kick him out of the show already!

Now, we’ll tackle the next problem of this team: Kim Chungha. I was really rooting for her, but she’s not much different from Sungyeol. She so blatantly exposed her relationship with Koo Junhoe, as if she wanted to brag? I know she was crying and all, but at least call a female friend and vent! Or if it’s a male, let it be someone who’s not a contestant! Or vent away from the cameras—this is ridiculous. I’ve never been so speechless. And all this after seeing Junhoe’s slacking off makes me wonder, was he late because he was fucking Chungha in the bathroom or something? LOL! They both lost my support. Soojin was my favourite leader out of this episode; she showed dedication to helping Sicheng with his vocals, while still keeping it light and fun. She can dance and sing as well, which we all know I love a woman with many talents. Sicheng was a really good dancer as usual, and Somi too (both their vocals are still lacking though so I hope they work on that). The performance was good overall, so I’m okay with them ranking second. By them, I mean Sicheng, Somi, and Soojin: the three S’s. The other two are such a big NO from me.

I can’t dwell too much on Team H. Not only am I exhausted and sleep deprived, but my heart broke with this team (I think you guys know why). Yongsun seemed to be a really good leader. She’s very funny and likable, not afraid to make a joke out of her weakness in dancing. Plus, she’s one of the best female vocalists on this show. Her and Daniel dancing together was hilarious, I have to admit. They have good chemistry as, like, the Beagle Line of a group. I was also surprised that everyone on this team can play instruments? It’s a coincidence you don’t really expect, and the fact that they utilized this surprise is so surreal to me. I don’t know why. I think it’s because I have a thing for bassists and Kang Daniel plays the bass (what fate is this)? And the bass line for Deja Vu is so sensual—control yourself, Naomi! Can you imagine my reaction to Hyunjung and Daniel acting all cute and flustered together like some puppy love? I almost cried. Almost. Maybe if I learn to play an instrument he will love me too? No hard feelings though, Hyunjung. You’re too talented for me to hate, and you’re pretty. If you make Kang Daniel smile and I get to see that smile, that’s all that matters. Anyways lol that hug and his blush. Wow, the kids on the MGA’s are really acting wild, aren’t they? I hope they all clean up their acts, or at least make it less obvious, by the time they become idols. Overall, this team’s performance was good and faintly reminiscent of H.A.M, so I believe they deserve their title as first ranked for this week. It was something new, something unexpected, something covertly sexy that I really enjoyed (rest in peace to Minho, though, who got no screen time despite killing the rap, the dance, and being super attractive).

I guess that’s all for now, guys! I’ll try not to be as late with my next post, though I can’t make any promises with how hectic work is at the moment. This was also fairly rushed, but I hope it was worthwhile! If not… Well, then, feel free to exit my blog. To those that enjoyed my thoughts, feel free to follow me on twitter @naomiwj and send in your reactions, opinions, and/or fangirl with me !!!

Thanks for reading, fellow netizens! See you next week!

♕ Naomi Wang ♕

[glassshard]

Final Fantasy 12

Fandom Ask - Final Fantasy 12

The first character I first fell in love with: Ashe. I love Ashe so much. I love all the ways her character is set up: how she had her love interest before the story starts, lost him, and doesn’t have to deal with romantic advances in the rest of the tale. I love how she turned the idea of a weak woman killing herself out of grief on its head, only using that as a cover while she instead grabs up a friggin’ sword and starts a rebellion. I love that the Prince is fridged rather than her, and I love how it makes her hard and unapologetic. I also love how regal and aloof she is. She has no reason to be especially courteous to our rabble PCs. She is a very good character and has a pretty good arc. The only sad thing is her terrible, terrible costume design that makes me never want to draw her. But FFXII’s costumes really are overall so horrible. Why did FF’s costumes get so bad after IX? Fight me.The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Cid. Doctor Cid, to be precise. He’s easily my favourite villain and it mostly boils down to his stellar VA and dialogue. I also like his motivation because it’s not a bad motivation at all! If you look at FFXII from a certain angle, just like in LoK your "heroes” are actually being manipulated by Elder Gods and the “villains” are the ones trying to save mankind from them. FFXII doesn’t go into depth regarding the Occuria because FFXII was originally meant to be an mmorpg with a sparse story because Squeenix is garbage, but Venat, Cid, and Vayne truly do seem to be doing horrible things for philanthropic reasons. In fact there is almost no satisfying motivation for the final boss fight because at that point the Occuria are defeated, everyone should be on the same page, and we’re very narratively disconnected from the rebellion. FFXII is so deeply flawed, man.The character everyone else loves that I don’t: Everyone in FFXII is fine and loveable.The character I love that everyone else hates: There is nothing wrong with Vaan, leave him alone. Yes, he’s a boring main character, except he’s not the main character at all. He’s a prop to introduce us to the story and world, and as soon as the rest of the party is introduced he fades into the background. Vaan is a believable, obnoxious, dimwitted teenager. It’s not his fault some executive morons stuck him in a role he wasn’t suited for.The character I used to love but don’t any longer: Sort of... all of them? I do still like FFXII and its babies a lot but replaying The Zodiac Age made me really notice all the shortcomings in the story. The entire thing is tragically underwritten, full of omissions, hand-waving, entire storylines and scenes that feel like they are just missing. If Vagrant Story and FFTactics weren’t so amazing I could go easier on it, but FFXII smacks so much of a thing that was gearing up to be fantastic but that was lethally compromised by a hellish development and last minute changes in direction.The character I would totally smooch: I mean, Balthier. Or Gabranth. Balthier feels a little manufacted. A little too programmed to be the fan favourite with his tight leather pants and his foppery and his ridiculous and impossible young age (was he a Judge when he was sixteen? Please). Gabranth has a pretty neat backstory though and plenty of nobility. His scene with Drace was among the best in the game even though it comes out of nowhere because underwritten. Gabs is good people.The character I’d want to be like: Ashe should be every woman’s role model. Fuck the gods. Be a Queen on your own terms. Get a big sword.The character I’d slap: Reddas. You’re a filler character, Reddas, and I don’t believe in your story.A pairing that I love: Balthier/Basch, Gabranth/Basch, Balthier/Fran, Vayne/Larsa~A pairing that I despise: I don’t see it much, but Vaan and Penelo is pretty meh. They’re both very generic, forgettable characters so when you combine them it feels like some terrible Nickelodeon soap opera.

[rironomind]

GS Artists Rec List

I told @the-nysh I would do this so I did. I’m just here to shamelessly promote my favs.  If you want to binge on art, trawl Pixiv and bookmarks. If you want daily art, follow the artists’ Twitter, or @GSnightfight. 

Sidenote: It is strange to know that some of the raunchiest stuff come from mums. 

(Artists under the cut!)

Kinako [Pixiv] [Twitter]- Protec. Their comic strips are so cute and good. Like this one here and an ongoing one on Twitter. I don’t really understand it but it seems like Genos drank a memory loss chemical to forget about how he couldn’t really love Saitama but then ended up in a relationship with him anyway? He calls just calls Saitama “Saitama”, it’s very bittersweet because he regrets drinking it. (Full thread here)

Yutani [Pixiv] - They do doujins, including one where Genos turns into a white wolf and one where Saitama gets double-teamed by devil!Genos and bunny!Genos.

Lisa [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Have I mentioned lately how much I love Lisa? I’ve been following her ever since she did “The person who makes you happy/Happy people” (Part 1/Part 2). She just did an omegaverse doujin too. Her style is a bit anatomically questionable but they look soft and blushy and muscley and romantic so I’m into it. She’s also done a couple of fake movie posters that’s also very tender. ^3^ (Also, nice try Lisa, I know you draw gratuitous bottom!Genos porn on a separate Twitter account.)

Nano [Pixiv] [Twitter] [Tumblr] - Soft, round egg. They did a doujin where Saitama gets fucked while wearing a dress as well as this really nice sfw doujin about Genos realising he likes Saitama. And who could forget this iconic fake twitter video. (Also they’re on tumblr! Please show them more love)

Polon [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Soft watercolour style, lithe muscley egg illustrations in sexy (and funny) poses and outfits. Loads of lovely short R18 comics. One of my favs is in here where Saitama’s cum is turned into Cookies and Cream flavour by a monster and this one where Saitama gets a bad fan letter and needs some TLC. They also have cat!sensei and dog!Genos versions which are super cute. Cat!Sensei is very chubby (it’s in their icon!).

Oikkodeth [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Yall better recognise. Mainly R18 doujins and puts out one every event (that’s like 5 times a year or more). They’ve covered the whole range: hanahaki, Little Red Riding Hood, human torso!Genos and more. Anatomy is a bit stiff but they’re so proficient.

Mido [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Korean but translates her comics to Japanese. Expressive, cute, clean comic style.

Akiyama [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Yall better fucking R E C O G N I S E. They, along with asamizu and a few others, have been posting since 2013. They churn out doujins like a machine and even has their own category in the doujin store, their books took up half a shelf. Consistently cute, punchy dialogue and doesn’t deal with drama. But you don’t need me to tell you. (Look at this though!!)

Hoyu [Pixiv] [Twitter] - You guys remember the sausage pillow comic? Do you like spit, licking, kinks and softcore yandere Genos? You’re gonna love Hoyu. Also, she knows loads of people? I always see her in the comments on twitter. Very skinny boys and twisted love, a new and interesting sketchy style.

Akiko [Pixiv] [Twitter] - A very girly and attentive waifu top!Genos and a tired Saitama. Puts out a comic strip almost every day? #blessed. (Sensei, please be sweet to me!) Doesn’t do R18 very often.

Oishigeru [Pixiv] - Does only doujins, maybe twice a year? Most, if not all are R18 and Saitama always looks vaguely worried. i like Even If mostly because it’s the only one I read all the way through and it’s about insecurities of a relationship. There was another doujin about Genos/Two Saitamas. Does introspective egg very well so I’m immediately biased. Doesn’t post art on twitter so I’m not including it.

Emochikaoya [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Yall already know I’m a massive fan of Kaoya’s work. Kinkwise, if you think of it, she’s probably drawn it. Super efficient, churns out minicomics once a week in between drawing her original comic (can’t stop the thirst, guys). I’m trying to get her to do more coloured illustrations so if you guys want to stroke her ego, I’ll pass it on. My favourite doujin of hers is ‘Who’ and it has hands-down The Best Egg Lecture. Probably one of the few artists who bother to translate to English (you’re welcome). I have a million things to say about her but it would turn into an essay so I’ll stop.

Minerux [Pixiv] [Twitter] - A member of the <:oc saitama club. puts out a comic weekly on twitter at the very least. they wordy but it super worth to read because all sweet and funny. regularly takes part in href="https://twitter.com/GSnightfight">@GSNightFight challenge on Twitter. Uncertain and worried egg and supportive and very attentive borg. Check out “Curiousity” and “Red String” and a personal fav “Hold on”.

Dokimaru [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Her neko sensei is probably the most iconic. He has a sweatshirt with like 6 nipples? Iconic. they drew a hot springs doujin where Genos turned basically his whole body into a vibe and Saitama caused him to short circuit and blow out every fuse in the ryokan. They set off the fire sprinklers. This one ficart where Saitama gets double-teamed by two Genoses knocked me flat.

Mat [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Mat?? Is so?? Good?? Ever think about how a look can break your heart? Egg is always tired and Genos is worried. Contact is very sweet and makes your heart twinge, and there’s another one they just released about Saitama being cursed with handcuffed hands

Hebitoriasu [Pixiv] [Twitter] - I’m not a big fan of the shading but I can see improvement. Mostly R18 doujins but they’re cute.

Tori/Saboten [Pixiv] [Twitter] - They have two major AUs - fem!Saitama (Nyotama) and Sabo-sensei - and they’re both amazing. Very good readability, very funny comics. If you’re not a fan of fem!Saitama, they have dedicated groups of art for nyotama. Of course my fav of their works is the one with all of Saitama and Genos’ dating problems and the one where Saitama is “Weak to ikemen (handsome guys)”.

Asamizu [Pixiv] - What kind of useless list would this be without Asamizu? Yeah they had their own category too on the doujin shelf. Very nice graphics, and they discuss relationship topics in a candid manner. Been drawing these boys for over 4 years! Mostly doujins. I also have to plug their game (visual novel) about Saitama endlessly repeating a week to try to get Genos to stop asking him out, it will probably last 10 hours. God they do love to ramble.

Toufumaru [Pixiv] - I’ll admit, I’m not a big fan of their recent work (sailor uniform sensei and sensei who wants to be held) but I really like Blue in Blue and Mellow Yellow which talk about Saitama’s non-existent emotions.

Nemunoki [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Mainly R18 doujins. They’ve explored all manner of sexual situations and kinks. Outdoor sex, electricity, double penetration, tentacles, you name it. It’s all amazing. The perspective does throw me off though.

Untara [Pixiv] - Into switch but really likes bottom!Genos anyway. What can I say? Kinky, but hot.

Satoku [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Melancholy egg! Attentive Genos! Does mostly short comics but they’re so cute. Martyr Saitama is my jam!

Kamikoawakakyouko [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Interesting concepts. Recently released a comic that I consider to be the pinnacle of the OPM fandom because it’s Saitama having to consider the environmental/global impact of his strength and how that boils down to affect his everyday life.

Matabi [Pixiv] - Pretty much only doujins. Sensei has moobs and the boys are squishy and blushy. Also does quite a bit of rimming.

Sototuka [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Mostly R18 illustrations with some nice shading but questionable garments. She drew this doujin with futa!Sensei and double-dick Genos. 

Hara Hara [Pixiv] - Saitama is the manic pixie dream girl you guys never thought would exist. Fashion model ingenue. Werk it, sensei. Permanent come hither. Seeing Saitama in dresses brings me life (even if he is super skinny).

Raoki [Pixiv] - Mainly R18 illustrations. I remembered she did sounding with Pocky.

Gmeko [Pixiv] - C U T E. Round and pastels. Soft with lots of TLC. Did a “(I’ll find you) Before the stars do” comic and a hair washing comic.

NICE BOON [Pixiv] - Korean who takes no shit. Fantastic fashion. Little to no BL but the concepts are all on pointe. Existential egg. Eggistential. Locked twitter.

Silver_mssk [Pixiv]  [Twitter] - locked account but if you managed to add her…really, really good eggistential portraits in a variety of scenes. Hilarious comics and a stone face Genos and flailing egg. Also lots of Mobuncle/Saitama scenarios? Which…tbh same.

Foo2333 [Twitter] - What if Saitama took part in enjo kosai (paid dating)? Bottom!Saitama, a soft and sexy egg desired by all. Listen, I don’t make the rules. 

Skaky21 [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Mostly out of the fandom but dips in sometimes. Very polished shiny style. Not my cup of tea but it’s cute.

1200年丸 [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Now mostly BNHA but does OPM sometimes. Mostly SFW. This comic is cute.

ICHIKAZU [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Curly haired boyish Genos! Everyone’s crazy about her Apocaplyse!AU but I prefer her newest doujin where Saitama wins a camera and Genos uses it to take lots of pictures of his sensei.

Kaji Oyaji [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Wowowow so cute and pastel? Is everyone an angel? Am I dead? Soft and sweet. Saitama is like a fairy and Genos is in love. Imagine the embodiment of Spring.

Ginsky [Pixiv] - Chinese. They’ve moved on but boy those were some bright colours and expressive faces.

Tutu_en_f [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Soft romantic sketches. Feel very french but I’m only saying that because she is literally in France now.

COCONUT [Pixiv] - Korean. Fashionable (you see a trend?) Saigenos sketches. Young boyish Genos, manly egg.

Obachan [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Chibi comics. Still active and cute af.

Shiwasu [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Woah this egg is too cute for this world. Does short comics, draws sex but not especially ero. I like this one which is about Genos becoming able to read Saitama’s mind, first kiss (self explanatory) and Saitama losing his strength (R18).

Nyuton [Pixiv] [Twitter] - Active on Twitter. Posts a lot of speed-colouring videos. Nice sketchy feeling but with colour. Likes to borrow concepts from music videos.

Mochi [Pixiv] - Crudely-drawn gag comics with a humour on par with ONE’s. Please, they’re so good. This one opens up with both of them wearing The Dress.

Shout out to starjr_major who is currently in Golden Kamui hell but used to draw some really amazingly cute Saitama.

[pesky33]

Something I’m experimenting with

So, I love reportage style stories and books, and I try to include some aspect of that every time I write something. I started writing Teurshima as a YouTube gamer, and it’s turned into an excuse to replay my favourite games. I’ll stick the first bit under a cut.

The idea is, each part will start with a transcript of one of his videos, and then there’ll be some exposition I suppose is the best way to describe it. Dialogue is my absolute favourite thing to write, and Terushima talks non-stop, so I thought it made sense to do this? Let me know what you think.

So far it includes two of my favourite ever games and ASMR. It’s basically just me enjoying myself.

Welcome to the Playground

[excerpt of transcription of video: “Psychonauts Playthrough – It's Not His Vault He's Psychic”]

“Hello, bonjour and konichiwa to The Playground! You're all most welcome, as always.

Today I'm playing 'Psychonauts' which is, urm, over ten years old! But, I just got it on PS4 because it was way cheap. It's taking a while to boot up, so I'll tell you a bit about it while it does. Oh, originally PS2, look at that! I was too young to play this first time (whispering) if I'd heard of it when I was ten, which I hadn't.

(usual volume) So it's developed by Double Fine. If you haven't heard of them, it's Tim Schaefer, and if you haven't heard of him, then I assume...I dunno what to tell you. It's TIM. FUCKING. SCHAEFER. Dude. You need to get out more.

Nah, nah, just kidding. Okay, so he's well known for Grim Fandango, but he's like, the king of indie games, 'specially point and click. We all know how impatient I get with those, right? But! This is a platformer! So we should be good to go. Running and jumping, yeah? I can do that. With my eyes closed! In fact I did. If you're interested, you can see me complete Super Mario 2 with my eyes closed by clicking on the pop-up I hope Kazu puts in the video. Let's have a graphic of Mario right *waves hand to one side* here please. Click on here to watch.

Oh shit! It's finished loading. Oh my god, this is so 90s already, I LOVE IT. And it wasn't even out in the 90s! 2005? So I...what? Walk around on this brain? This is...oh! Wait, there's a door. I'll just jump in there.

Okay, so this is a platform game. Jumping, running, collecting stuff. Looking online, there's a fuck ton of collectibles, which I don't normally give a shit about, but apparently that's how you level up, so looks like I'm gonna be trying to collect a bunch of crap. I. HATE. COLLECTIBLES.

At least it has analog stick compatibility. You know what I always say – life is too short for games without analog stick compatibility. If you port a PS2 game to PS4, give me my fucking analog stick, or it's not happening. Hmm, the movement is pretty smooth, though! Good job, urm, whoever did this. I've forgotten already. I literally just looked it up before we started streaming.

It's a much better port than Primal. Jesus, dudes, do you lot remember Primal? What an annoying slow piece of garbage that was. Ah, memories. I broke my controller that day. RIP Jemima the controller. We hardly knew ye.

These character designs are crazy, seriously. Have you seen this guy's afro? I really want some goggles and a flying helmet now though. Raz, you are one sick looking motherfucker but you have some smooth aviator style going on there. If anyone wants to tell me where to get freaky goggles like this, comment and tell me! I want some for my playthrough videos.

Also, I would TOTALLY wear that shirt of his.

Okay, so while I'm finding whatever it is I'm looking for, I wasn't really listening...anyway, while I'm titting about showing you the game, let me catch you up on what's been going on. So, you may remember last week I had to take Agro to the vet. Thank you all for your lovely comments, by the way. You're all so lovely to me, even though I'm such a prick.

Anyway, luckily, it's not serious! I was so worried, cause coughing can mean so many things in dogs, but apparently, he's just got a cold. I mean...way to worry me, man, I thought you had kennel cough or something. You big mutt, I love ya.

What else...oh look at that! I think we're getting into the game properly, I'll stop rambling, and do an actual livestream of this gameplay. If you miss this live, don't worry, as always we'll be putting an edit of it up later on. Let's do this!”

-

Yuuji sat back after watching the video Kazu put together. He'd added in the Mario graphic, as requested, even adding a pair of dark glasses. Nice little touch, thought Yuuji, as he scrolled down to see the comments.

People seemed to enjoy the playthrough, although almost every comment was thankful that Agro was doing better. Yuuji swore that dog was more popular than him some days.

One other comment caught his eye. “You should whisper more! OMG you have an amazing whisper, it set off tingles in my head! Please do an ASMR playthrough of something.”

“Hey, Haru! You know what ASMR is?” he shouted through into the living room.

“What?”

“ASMR? You heard of it?”

There was a loud sigh, sounds of shuffling against leather, and then Haru appeared in the doorway to his office. “What are you talking about?”

“Someone said I should do an ASMR playthrough. Never heard of it. Is it a game?”

“Show me.”

Yuuji pointed out the comment on screen, while Haru peered at it. “She says 'ASMR playthrough of something' so I don't think it's a game. Search it.”

He opened another window alongside the YouTube one, and started looking for ASMR. Comments continued to appear below the original one, Haru reading them out as they did.

“'Can you imagine him trying to whisper? Through a whole video,' this one says. They have a point. I bet you couldn't whisper for a minute, let alone an hour.”

“I could whisper that long!”

Kazu wandered in to see where the other two and got to. “You couldn't. I could hear every word you said from in the lounge.”

“Hey!” Yuuji shouted, as if to prove a point. “I'm offended! I'm not always loud. I can be quiet if I have to be!”

“You think? Well, then maybe we should try it. There's plenty of people who seem interested.”

“Is that all it is?” Yuuji carried on scrolling through the results. “Whispering? I could whisper! Are there other gamers who do this ASMR thing?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon researching online, watching videos, and brainstorming games which could be whispered through. Yuuji still wasn't convinced, but with over 400 likes on the comment, many agreeing he had a nice whisper (a compliment he never thought he'd ever hear), they all thought it was probably worth trying.

“There's a few gamers whispering over videos,” Kazu said, leaning over and scrolling through his history. “Mostly girls though. I could only find one bloke. I really think you should give it a go.”

“Things like Minecraft seem popular...”

“I'm not playing Minecraft. I'd rather boil my fingers.”

Haru tutted. “Well, there's plenty of those anyway. I meant, maybe play something similar. Something which won't get you over-excited so you accidentally shout.”

“You know what would be good?” Kazu said, looking up with wide eyes.

“I know exactly what you're thinking,” Haru joined in, both turning to Yuuji. “Come on, it's so obvious!”

Yuuji jumped to his feet and started scanning his shelf full of games, before finding the box he was searching for and holding it in the air triumphantly. “Journey!”

[madfatty]

this here and now with you is how - an mmfd fic No. 21

First of all, lovely anon, thank you for asking.  It’s been a long six months of me trying to write anything, and your ask gave me a direction to go in, so ta very much. I think this is a much happier concoction than my usual fare.  I hope that’s what you were hoping for.

In the interest of full disclosure “she’d start an argument in an empty room” isn’t mine.  I heard it on telly and it struck me as exactly the way Finn would have thought about her, so I’m borrowing it. It comes from S1E1 of Shetland. Another excellent show.

I cannot state loudly or often enough just how vital @how-ardently is to you seeing any of this.  She is amazing and I couldn’t do it without her. If it turns out that no one else likes this thing, I will be forever sustained by the little gleeful noises she made during our editing session. Erin gives great squee.

Much love and thanks to @bitchy-broken for some pertinent information, mainly pickled onions and Peugeot 205’s.  Turns out, Finn’s favourite is Dawn’s favourite too. Who’d have thought! Thank you darling girl. xo

The title comes from the Cure song, This. Here and Now. With You. from the album 4:13 Dream. 

I haven’t tagged anyone, save to thank those who helped, because interest seems to be waning and I don’t wish to assume.

I thank you for your interest. xo

this here and now with you is how

If you’d asked Finn that morning how he thought the day would go, it would be nothing like this. It’s not how his life usually works, but as he’s about to discover, the universe hasn’t completely given up on him just yet.

He’s spent the morning moping about the house, growing more and more disheartened with every passing hour, the prospect of the rave without Rae sitting heavy on him. He needs to find a way to tell Chop and the others that he’s changed his mind about going, without Chop making a big deal out of it and maybe saying something to Rae before Finn gets the chance to. He’s working himself up to calling her and seeing if she wants to hang out, at the pub or the chippy, or even here at his. He’ll walk up and down the high street for three hours window shopping, or sit in her room and silently watch her read all night. Whatever, wherever she wants, as long as it’s the two of them.

He keeps sideling up to the phone, as if he’s trying to take it by surprise. He picks up the receiver and dials the first four digits of her number before hanging up and scuttling back to the safety of the front room. To his great relief, attempt number eight is interrupted by a knock at the door and suddenly the girl in question is standing on his front step, shrugging her way past him and apologising for showing up unannounced. He’s had fantasies that started like this.

Rae tells him she’s had a huge, hurtful, screaming row with her mum, so awful that she threw some things in her backpack and slammed the door behind her, with no idea where she was going. She says she just started walking and before she knew it, she was outside his house.  She hopes he doesn’t mind.

Mind? Finn knows it’s bad and that she’s upset but he can’t stop smiling. She’s come to him. Not Chloe, not Archie; him. His face is starting to hurt. He has to drag himself away, offering tea so he can get himself together, but it’s no good; a glimpse of his reflection in the kitchen window while he waits for the kettle to boil only proves how horribly he’s failing.  

When Gary strolls into the kitchen on the lookout for a cuppa and a biscuit, Finn doesn’t even pretend to hide his excitement.

Gary knows all about Finn’s romantic woes, since the evening, not two weeks ago, when a very drunk Finn had come home fed up and forlorn after a particularly dismal night at the pub of not snogging Rae. It had taken very little prompting on Gary’s part for a weepy Finn to share the whole sad and sorry tale. He been supportive and sympathetic and a little damp eyed himself, so it’s hardly surprising that this latest development has Gary wearing a grin to match his own.

There’s an embarrassing but endearing bum wiggling dad-dance that would normally have him groaning, but all is forgiven when Gary offers to go and make up the spare room for Rae. It earns him a fierce bear hug and the last of the Hobnobs. The pair stop short of high-fiving each other, but continue giggling like three year olds. It takes Finn another couple of minutes to compose himself before he can head back upstairs. He really should be at least a little bit ashamed of just how pleased with himself he’s feeling, but he’s not. She picked him.

Before she can change her mind, he calls to tell Chop that there’s been a change of plans; Rae isn’t just going with them, she’s stopping at his (That’s right, Chop. Rae Earl is staying at mine. How’s things with Izzy?), so Chop’s going to have to collect Chloe, because of course, Rae will be riding with Finn. Even Finn can concede that the thrill it gives him to say those words out loud is borderline pathetic. He’s still buzzing when he hangs up midway through Chop’s razzing him for finally making a move.

The thought of her getting ready behind his bathroom door has Finn reciting starting line ups from the last ten Cup finals and trying not to touch himself.  He has to hold his shirt down in front of him quickly when she appears shyly at his bedroom door, all powdered and perfumed in the prettiest blue dress and leggings.  It’s an awkward shuffle past her to his turn in the bathroom where he’s immediately enveloped in a sweet scented cloud of her making, and he spends the next three and a half minutes moaning her name into a washcloth while the hot water runs.

+++

She’d start an argument in an empty room, he used to gripe to anyone who’d listen, but it’s mostly him she seems to argue with, and he doesn’t pretend to not know why. It was all his fault, them not getting along from the beginning.

He’s always been a bit shit about new people and by the time he’d figured out he’d fucked up, she’d decided she didn’t want a bar of him either, and the more he tried to fix it, the worse it got. Every time she’d make an effort he’d get all flustered and think she was taking the piss and he’d snark at her, earning her silent, seething ire and even the pursed-lipped disapproval of the gang. So he couldn’t really blame her when her response to his feeble, yet heartfelt attempts to make amends the next time he saw her was to snap and snarl and roll her eyes.

Thankfully, he stopped being quite the dickhead and she eventually took pity on him. Now they’re friends. He wants them to be more, and he wishes he knew if she did too. It keeps him awake nights, trying to figure out if she likes him as much as he likes her. It’s so hard to tell sometimes.  

It’s easier in his fantasies. She leaves no room for doubt there.

+++

Not an hour goes by where he’s not thinking about Rae Earl.  

The sun is warm on his bare skin but it’s nothing to the heat coming from Rae’s gaze. She doesn’t like football, she’s said it a million times and yet here she is, sat in the middle of a beautiful summer Sunday watching him intently, albeit surreptitiously.

It’s just a friendly kick-about with some of the lads but skill will always out, and he makes a blinding break down the length of the whole field. He’s so fast, none of his team can keep up with him and he has to go it alone. The opposition are so flummoxed by his dexterity that the goal he scores is inevitable and nothing short of poetry.

The tiny crowd of assembled friends goes wild and Finn waves humbly in their direction.

Out of the corner of his eye he catches Rae on the move. One minute she’s sitting on the sidelines pretending to read (he knows she’s pretending because he hasn’t seen her turn a page since he took his shirt off) and the next she’s walking straight across the pitch. The other lads have to run round her as she cuts a determined path directly to him. He’s all sweaty from scoring his goal and he’s pretty sure he smells but it doesn’t stop her. In front of God and everyone she wraps him up in the tightest of hugs. This time she uses both arms, it’s not just an awkward pat on the back and when he chances to squeeze her, she squeezes him back. Her breath is hot on his already overheated skin when she whispers, ‘I have to have you. Now. Fancy coming back to mine?’ He doesn’t even stop to pick up his shirt.

Or he’s sitting across from her in the pub when she goes off on one, her perfect mouth going a mile-a-minute as she rants and raves, holding everyone around her in her sway. She is majestic and unstoppable and everybody wants her. He takes a shallow sip of his beer, licks at the foam on his lips, and in a strong, sure voice that carries through the pub, says something inflexibly flirty and devastatingly funny and Rae is undone. She reaches for him across the glass strewn table, knocking over drinks in her haste to get to him. The pub erupts in catcalls and cheers and he smiles in the knowledge that every man in that room wishes they were him.

Sometimes they’re in his room, just the two of them and he’s searching for the perfect record to tell her how he feels. He’s spouting some insightful and practiced nonsense about the band or a particular song or whatever and she’s suddenly overcome by how smart and cool he is and Rae can no longer keep her hands off him. Many an album has suffered in this scenario, as she throws him up against the wall to have her way with him. No matter that the stylus skates heavily across the imaginary vinyl causing irreparable damage. In Finn’s mind, there is no sacrifice too great for the taste of Rae’s kiss.

That’s one of his favourites, because after the mind bending, body melting sex, it’s just them lying on his bed, the room full of music and his arms full of her. He can look at her as long as he wants. He gets to hold her, and listen to all her secrets and tell her all of his, and when she goes, he can still smell her on his pillow.

Finn’s got a million of them, lots of little dreams to shore him up and keep him going on those days when nothing else can.

There is a pain, a tiny little hurt, an ache that he carries every day. It’s sits in his chest, in his throat, in his belly and it belongs to her. It flares when she’s with him and it screams when she’s not. It’s not a sad thing, at least he doesn’t think so. It has a sweetness and a softness that soothes and comforts him. He wouldn’t know himself without it now. It’s how he knows he’s alive.

+++

The Lou Reed line drifts in and out, too impatient to wait it’s turn among the other thoughts in the loop tumbling around head, Bright blue and yellow. Green apples. Happy. It feels like forever since he’s held anything as sharp and real as the hope that’s filling him now, the promise of something wonderful a definite taste on his tongue. The road rolls out before them, straightforward and clear and he follows it eagerly.

What if he just keeps driving?  Down this road as far as it will take them and then onto the next, with Rae wrapped around him for warmth, for safety, forever. Into the dark, into another place where he can have this all the time.

He’s not going that fast, but her hands tighten around him until her fingers lock together and her palms are flat across his chest. She shifts a little further forward until all he can feel is all of her pressed up close behind him and the poke of her pixie chin resting on his shoulder.

Finn’s heart is tilted so far forward in his chest it’s up against his ribs and the butterflies in his belly are doing cartwheels. He may be about to black out. The scooter jerks and swerves. He can’t keep his eyes on the road or his hands still on the throttle.  Everything in him is drawn to the girl at his back. If he doesn’t tell her now, they’re going to crash. There’s a stretch of road just up ahead that’s shaded by an avenue of trees. At the first opportunity he pulls over onto the grass verge and stops the bike.

“What happened, what’s wrong? Is the bike broken?” Rae frets, as she steps off the back of the scooter.

“No. I… I just,” he begins, shaking off his helmet.

“Then why did we stop?” She’s standing there with her hands on her hips, her helmet still on and framing the soft roundness of her face.  God, she’s adorable. It takes him a second or two to answer her.

“You need to know something.”

“Are we out of petrol? Did you get us lost?” The worry is gone from her voice and she slips back into her teasing tone. Always teasing.

“No. We’re not out of petrol and we’re not lost. I need to tell you something.”

“It couldn’t wait till we got there?”

“No. I have to tell you now. While we’re on our own.”  

“We’ve been on our own all afternoon, you could’ve…” She’s still teasing, and he does like it, but there are times when he wishes she didn’t feel the need to fill the air with noise. When she’d see that he just needs a moment to get there and he’ll tell her what she wants to know. It comes so easy to her, she’s so sure of everything, maybe she thinks it’s easy for everyone.

“Please, shut up Rae.  I need you to shut up and listen to me. Christ,” he groans, “I can’t breathe.”

“Oh God, Finn.  Sit! Sit! Put your head between your knees.”

“I don’t need to…”

“Put your head between your knees, Finn. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth… slowly.”

“Just stop!” Finn’s hands fly up, a barrier between them, a physical attempt to stop the flow of her words. He might have been a little too loud and a little too adamant. He’s not cross, just desperate to get her attention. He’d hoped it would be obvious but from the look on her face, he’s doubtful.

He’s long been a fan of her facial gymnastics, he has an actual list of his top ten favourites and if the stakes weren’t so high, he’d be admiring the current set of acrobatics that are rapidly manifesting themselves into an impressive expression of outrage. There’ll be no way back from it if she gets a full head of steam so he’s got to get in first. It’s now or never.  

“What you need to know is; I like you Rae. A lot. Proper, full-on, hand-holding, snogging, you’re-the-one-for-me ‘fancy’ and I think you might fancy me too, well I hope you do, but I can’t tell for sure.”

There was a plan. He’d had a plan and this was not it. In all the time he’d practiced this, never once did he imagine that it would be happening by the side of the road. Shit. And now he’s lost control of his hands and his feet. He’s pacing up and down like a mad man and waving his hands about but he can’t stop moving.

“I was going to wait to see how tonight went, but today has been so amazingly perfect and I figured if I wait, I’m gonna blow it. I’ll do something or I’ll say something stupid and it’ll cock everything up and I don’t want everything cocked up, I’m sick of everything getting cocked up.  I just want to be with you, Rae. That’s all I want and I don’t want anything to get in the way. Not me, not our friends; not anything, because, because…” He stops in front of her, scared shitless because he could be about to commit romantic suicide, but he needs to see her face when he says this next bit, “I think we belong together Rae.”

He’s compiled a list (another one, he has many), collecting all their similarities like some cheesy TV detective in the hope that she’ll see they are meant for each other. He’d had thoughts of introducing the contents of his list gradually, over a period of time but he’s about to burn up the first four or five casual ‘me too’ conversations due to blind panic, because she’s starting to open her mouth. She’s not supposed to talk yet.

“Listen Rae, just listen.” And there go his hands again, waving frantically between them, without his permission “We’re the same, you and me. You bite your nails, I bite my nails too.” It’s not the strongest of openings, but he can still feel her hands on his chest and his are flapping about like landed fish and it’s the first thing that comes to mind.  The pacing starts again. “We have all the same posters on our walls. You can talk shit about music for hours; no, not shit, stuff, smart stuff, and music is the one thing I feel confident talking about because I know my stuff too. You always choose pickled onion flavoured Monster Munch. Pickled onion is my favourite. I’ve got a whole drawer full of tazos saved for you because I know you collect them.”

“You prefer Q to the NME and you think Select and Melody Maker are okay but Vox is a try-hard Q and you never buy Smash Hits ever,” he forces himself to look at her. Her eyes are so wide he has to look away again or he’s never going to get it all out. “It’s just for nicking the posters out of in the newsagents if there’s anyone decent in them. And you’re right. About all of it.” He’s rambling, he can hear it, but it’s so important that she knows.  He studies the flattened grass beneath his boots for a moment before he continues.

And, and… we dress the same.” He stumbles here, his voice breaking just a little because this one makes him giddy. They wear the same uniform, and it has to mean something. It’s partly how he recognised her. When he thinks about her red flannel shirt and how he has one almost exactly the same… the idea that it could be one of his shirts she’s wearing, that it would still be warm from the heat of her… it’s one of his favourite thoughts.

At some point, she’s taken off her helmet while he wasn’t looking. He’s looking at her now. It’s cooler here under the trees, but her face is still flushed. Her hair is flat against her head except for the bits that the breeze has stirred up. It’s caught the hem of her dress too and her frustration at trying to contain them both is evident, but there’s an underlying agitation he knows has nothing to do with the wind. There’s an anxiousness about her, something that says she wants to run. He rushes on.

“But it’s not just that. The sameness. There’s loads of things, Rae. How independent you are. You never just follow along and you can exist outside the rest of us.” His voice is lower, he’d been excitable with the urgency of the situation before, and it had all come pouring out at high speed and possibly top volume, but now the seriousness of what he’s saying sets in. He wishes he were physically closer to her, but she may not be quite ready for that yet so he stays where he is. “How smart you are, and brave. And fierce and kind. And how you look after everyone. How you looked after me the night Nan died. I don’t think I would have got through that night, or the funeral, if it wasn’t for you. Did I ever say thank you? I hope so. I’ve thought it a million times since.”

It’s no good.  In his room, where he’s practiced this a hundred times, he’s already touching her by now, but she’s still so far away. On shaky legs he takes a deliberate step forward and waits.  

“Have I said pretty? Because you are Rae, so, so pretty. Sometimes, when I’m looking at you, I forget to breathe.” He can’t breathe now. While he was speaking he didn’t dare look at her and now that he’s stopped, he can’t look away. Her hands are knots, one around the strap of the motorcycle helmet, which she’s banging painfully against her knees and the other, still gripping the hem of her dress, is clawing at her thigh.

He’s never seen her lost for something to say before. It’s probably the shock, which Finn can understand, as he’s a little stunned himself. It’s killing him not knowing what she’s thinking, but he doesn’t dare ask.

“Is this a joke? Is that meant to be funny?” she says finally, her face a sour twist.

“Jesus no, Rae. I’ve never been more serious in my life.” He thought he’d been very clear. What did he miss? What didn’t he say?

Well done fuck-face. Happy now? You’ve broken her. Any other time you can’t string two words together, now you can’t shut up, and she thinks you’re joking.

He’s not stupid, despite recent appearances. In the beginning, he let his wariness and his mistrust override his good sense and so everything that came from his mouth was petty and catty and cruel. Since then, he’s fought so hard for her to like him that he rarely says anything at all in case it’s the wrong thing. He’d hoped the impression he gave off is of the thoughtful, strong, silent type, but he’s afraid he just comes across as thick and surly.

Before Rae, he always thought of himself as maybe kind of cool, but she reminds him who he really is, some saddo teenage boy trying desperately, and failing miserably, to impress someone infinitely cooler.

It’s such a specific feeling, this thing for her that’s been growing steadily inside him for weeks now and he knows what it is.  He’s not sure if the feeling is enough though.  He knows he should tell her before someone else comes along, someone smarter, who sees what he sees and who can say the words in just the right way so she’ll get how amazing she is, because Finn’s been trying to tell her through touch when maybe what Rae needs is the words.

He didn’t mean to hit her with it all at once, he was going to take it slow. The latest plan, formulated in the bathroom while he got his breath back, was to spend tonight glued to her side, take every opportunity to touch her, to finally let her know how much he feels, but when he started, he couldn’t stop.

The hope that filled him and encouraged him to speak up wobbles at the look on her face. She looks like she’s trying not to cry. This is not how this was supposed to go.

“I… I’m sorry, Rae. I didn’t mean to upset you.  I’ll, I’ll take it all back if it’s not what you want, if I got it all wrong.” He can feel the panic rise as his world falls. He’s going to lose her. She’s going to break his heart. “I like you so, so much Rae, please don’t say we can’t be friends. That I can’t be around you. I know I’m an idiot and I’ve probably ruined everything, but please don’t say that.”

She’s fidgeting with the strap of her helmet but her eyes are locked on the grass beneath her. She’s quiet for the longest time, each second drags heavy before the next.  More than ever, he wishes he knew what she was thinking.  And the next moment, there’s that steel he knows and loves. Rae takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. She stands more solidly on the ground. The looks she gives him is of reservation and resolve.

“Finn…” she stops. She starts again. “So do you mean you…” she swallows thickly, “want to… that you really… fancy me? That you want to snog me?”

“For starters.” His smile is small and tentative at first until his face gets the better of him and he can no longer contain it. It splits sharply in two. “I want to snog you senseless,” he confirms eagerly, “all day, every day, and buy you chips and make you mixed tapes and hold your hand…”

With each new declaration, Finn inches closer, until she’s within his reach.  He leans in slowly because she hasn’t said yes yet, and he doesn’t want to count his chickens. The helmet she’s still holding comes away from her grasp with the lightest of tugs. Finn throws it behind him and it bounces noisily off the back of the scooter. Oh so gently, he takes the tips of her fingers between his and smiles at their ragged edges.  

“Well, go on then, if you’re going to.” She whispers, her eyes crinkling. It’s a challenge, just like she is and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s one of the million things he likes about her, it’s on more than one of his lists, but what he also likes is that it’s coloured by a hint of nervousness that stirs a tiny hope in him that he may not be the only one who’s thought a lot about them doing this before.  There’s nothing but a breath between them and then there’s not even that. It’s the softest of touches, his lips on hers, and he’s lost.  

The pressure increases when she fits herself to him and it happens exactly like he knew it would. It drops like a stone down the middle of him, there’s a shift and a ‘click’, the last piece of the puzzle. Whether she realises it yet or not, she’s stuck with him now.

She’s got him caught up by the front of his jacket and the leather squeaks and sighs in the clutch of her fingers and he can’t think straight.  All the times he’d dreamed about her hands being on him.  

Her body against him like this is a gift he thought she’d never give. Her mouth is a revelation.  He searches out the softness of her skin. First the bits he’s learned by sight. He cradles the cool length of her neck, because he always wanted to know if she’ll shiver when he runs his finger from her hairline down beneath her collar. He traces the shell of her ear, brushes the apple of her cheek.  It’s a start and it’s perfect, but he wants to know all of her.

Finn bends himself to her, his grasp moving, greedily exploring. He’s hard for her and he wants her to know that it’s all her doing. He rests his hips against her and squeezes the delicious curve of her arse. He drags his eyes open to watch. Rae gasps a tiny ‘o’ and it’s devastating and addictive. She grips him harder, gently buffeting against him as if they were floating in a deep dark sea of green. She presses back into him with equal enthusiasm. She’s a natural, her mouth hungry and insistent, expertly drawing soft vowel sounds from Finn’s throat. He’s going to die here. They’ll find nothing but a little pile of ash and leather.

“Did I mention inappropriate touching? I meant to.” He murmurs, barely moving his mouth from her mouth. “Lots and lots of...”

“Walk before you run, okay Nelson? Let’s see how the kissing thing goes, shall we?” she chides him, before she falls on him again. He can taste the smile in her kiss and when her hands go through his hair he all but swoons.

The kissing goes great and for a long, long time.  So great, in fact, that between it and the face-splitting grin he’s wearing, his jaw is starting to ache, but there’s no way he’s stopping.  He will stand here by the side of the road in the growing dark surrounded by bugs and foxes and all manner of weird night-things as long as he can keep kissing her.  He doesn’t even care about the hooting and jeering coming from passing traffic, not even when he recognises the familiar grind of the not-quite-in-gear engine of Chop’s Peugeot 205.

Despite all her bravado, Rae becomes a little skittish when the car idles beside them and Finn swears by all that is holy that he will kill Chop a thousand times over, if he does anything to shatter the divinity of this moment. He can’t have that, so while Chop makes crude jokes and the others whoop and holler, Finn keeps his mouth on hers, not sparing a single breath to tell them all to bugger off,  just gathers Rae up closer, hums his pleasure across her tongue. He won’t risk even the slight movement of extending his middle finger to flip them off in case the spell breaks; instead, he chooses to ignore them until they get bored and drive off. He’s beside himself that she does too.

Whatever happens next is entirely up to Rae.  If she wants to find their friends and dance, he’ll dance, if she wants to ride around all night, just them and the dark, he’ll drive, and if she wants to see where all this kissing leads, Finn is more than happy to oblige.

This here and now is their beginning and he can’t wait to see where it takes them.

[strugglingfairy]

Mysterious Things // Carl Grimes Imagine

At last!!!! I’ve finally finished the third and final part of my ‘Miscellaneous Things’ series! Thanks so much for being so patient my loves <3

Tell me what you think! I worked v hard on this one lmao

find part 1 here  and part 2 here     or find all of my writings here

-Mads <3

A L E X A N D R I A // P A R T 3 // 2 8 9 2

I took a deep breath, hesitating before knocking on his door.

It's been a month y/n. Get a fucking grip.

After finally mustering up the courage to knock, I took a step back, fixing my hair subconsciously for the third time.

I heard footsteps jog up to the door, and before I knew it, there he was, looking as painfully adorable as ever, but also extremely confused.

"Y/n? Oh shit uh... h-hey, I didn't think you'd, you'd actually come." Carl rubbed the back of his neck, before reaching up to attempt to fix his hair.

"I literally told you yesterday that I as coming to look after Judy today, Carl."

"Yeah, yeah I know but I thought... I don't know, I thought you'd bail because you'd be stuck with me all day..since..ya know.." He trailed off. I scrunched my eyebrows, confused.

"Carl, I've told you before that things don't need to be awkward between us, ok? Plus, I'll be ok with Judy on my own for the day so you don't have to hang about if you don't want to." I said with a small smile, stepping past him into the house towards Judy's room.

"No! no, I'll stay here, Dad said- well, he implied that... I-I want to stay here. With you." Carl stuttered from his place near the door behind me. My eyes widened slightly at his comment, but I kept walking, saying nothing.

It was true, I had told Carl several times that I didn't mind still being friends. Yes, I did confess my love to him a few weeks ago, but I've come to accept that he was never meant to be mine.

Carl however, always made it awkward. He hardly spoke to me anymore. Sometimes I would catch him staring at me, which made my heart skip, but then he'd look away guiltily and I'd realise that Enid's hand was wrapped around his.

I smiled as I saw Judy in her cot. She garbled happily when she saw me, stretching her tiny hands toward me so I could pick her up. I did so, twirling her around, before beginning to shower her with kisses, making her squeal and giggle.

Judith had always been a source of happiness for me, but ever since the..incedent, I was too scared of her brother to go see her. Carol told me yesterday that she could tell Judy was missing me, and that I was missing her too. Carol was right, of course, so I finally agreed to babysit today. I twirled her golden locks around my fingers, smiling as she played with my mother's necklace around my neck. I walked out her room, carrying her to the porch, so we could sit on the steps and watch the world go by, just like we used to.

"You've always been so good with her." I gasped turning round to face her brother. The sun was setting, casting a soft glow on his face, which had a ghost of a smile on it as he took off his hat, placing it on the ground as he sat down next to us.

I was startled by his actions, to say the least. I couldn't help but shuffle over slightly, uncomfortable by our sudden closeness.

"I miss you, ya know." He turned to me after a while. I didn't know how to answer at first, I avoided his burning stare and continued to play with Judy's tiny hands.

"Me too, Carl. I'm sure we can go back to the way we were one day." I sighed.

"Yeah, I guess." The conversation ended there, both of us having nothing more to add. I was debating whether or not to go inside when Carl spoke up again.

"How about we get to know each other again?" I raised an eyebrow at him, looking him in the eyes for the first time in a while, which were the same beautiful blue they always were.

"I think I know you pretty well, Grimes." I rolled my eyes, nudging him.

"No, I mean, ask each other questions, pretend we know nothing about each other, start again."

I nodded, shrugging as I realised that had nothing better to do.

"Ok Grimes, what's your favourite colour?" He smiled, happy I was playing along.

"Well, blue of course." I rolled my eyes. This was all pointless information I already knew, but I was just happy to be talking to Carl again.

"Ok then, what's your favourite song?" I looked at him, raising my eyebrows. He smiled at me knowingly, before we both simultaneously began singing 'Wonderwall' at the top of our lungs, making Judy giggle at us.

The questions continued on until Judy was asleep in my arms, and I was beginning to shiver from the chilly night air. Carl noticed, he looked torn for a minute, before taking off his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders.

The gesture made me blush like crazy, and that familiar warm fuzzy feeling that I had been trying to avoid overtook me again as I snuggled into him, securing the jacket around Judy and I even more.

It was then that the picture of Enid popped into my mind. I stiffened, lifting my head from his shoulder and shuffling away from him. He looked at me confused, but said nothing.

"Hey Carl?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Are we still playing that question game?" I asked quietly, looking at him. He chuckled, sliding over to me again, attempting to wrap his arm around my shoulder, but I dodged it. He frowned.

"How's Enid?" I was surprised at my sudden confidence, but I had been dying to ask.

Enid didn't like me. At all. That was very apparent. She was still pissed at me because of what I said all those weeks ago at Ron's house. Well, that and the other comments.

Yeah, ok. I didn't like the bitch. I did honestly try to be decent, but it so hard not to want to pull her eyeballs out sometimes.

"E-Enid? Uh, um she's uh, yeah, she's, she's great. Why?" I shrugged, avoiding his stare yet again and playing with Judy's hair.

I saw him turn away from the corner of my eye, noticing that he began playing with the corner of his flannel, a habit he only I'd when he wasn't telling the truth.

"You sure?" I nudged him, raising my eyebrow as he sighed. He hesitated for a second, before launching into an explanation.

"Well, actually, she's not, really. We've been... drifting." I was confused. You wouldn't be able to tell they were having problems from the way they act. What with the always holding hands, waist touches, neck kisses, you name it. The thoughts make me cringe.

Carl explained that Enid had been getting clingy and irritating, I laughed when he called her to the 'demon version of Judy'. I listened to him complain about the girl I thought he was in love with, and as he spoke, I heard my heart break more and more.

Not only was my best friend hurting, but because that's all he was.. my best friend. All I was to him was a shoulder to cry on, nothing more, nothing less.

"I'm sure you two will work it out, Carl. Enid's an amazing girl." I smiled at him, weakly, him doing the same back to me.

// C A R L //

But she's not you.

My heart snapped as she spoke those words. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't stop loving her, and it drove me crazy. I've known for years that I've been in love with my best friend, but I could never muster up the courage to admit it. So yes, when I began dating Enid I was just using her as a distraction. And honestly, it terrified me when I started to have feelings for her. I began to stop comparing her to y/n, noticing things about her that I loved just because they made Enid... Enid. I thought I would finally get a chance at happiness with a girl who actually liked me back. But ever since that night when I spoke to y/n from her window, I simply can not get y/n out of my head.

She liked me the whole fucking time. We could've been happy together, but no, we were both too terrified of each other to admit it.

But now I'm unhappy with Enid and y/n is.. well... y/n has Ron. Even thinking his name made my blood boil. I hated him with every fibre of my being. It was the way that he walked a little too close to her, or the way he looked at her when she's doing shooting practice, or the way he would lightly touch her waist when they were talking. It drove me mad that it wasn't me in his place.

She's slipping right through my fingers, and it's all my fault.

The conversation ended there. We just looked at the moon in silence, before y/n quietly said she was going to put Judy to bed. I offered to help, but she declined, and soon enough she was out the door before I could even say goodbye.

As I lay in bed that night, I could feel myself getting more and more worked up. What if Enid continues to be annoying and I break up with her? The only reason I hadn't already ended things with her was because I didn't want her to be upset. No matter how annoying Enid could be, I still cared for her and I don't want to make her cry. But mostly, that would mean admitting to myself that I never lost feelings for y/n, no matter how hard I had tried. Y/n. Sitting there on the porch with her tonight, I could feel myself falling more and more every time she smiled at me.

After another hour of tossing and turning in my bed, I was still no less confused. I was head over heels for y/n, always had been, but then there's Enid. She cared for me so much, she was there for me when I got depressed. But did I love her like I loved y/n?

Fuck it.

I sat up, now knowing what I had to do.

I pulled on a t-shirt and trousers, before tugging on my boots. I looked in my cracked mirror, cringing at the state of my hair. I spent a good 10 minutes attempting to fix it before giving up. I grabbed my hat, taking a moment to fully realise what I was doing, and jogged out of my house and down the street.

It was midnight, I guessed. Everyone was asleep or in their houses, and the eerie silence of the Alexandria only added to my nerves. I rehearsed what I was going to say in my head.

"Hey y/n, I'm kinda in love with you."

no.

"Oh, s'up y/n, you're looking very beautiful for 12 am."

no...no Carl.

"I'm sorry for confessing I loved you but refusing to break up with my girlfriend, I've changed my mind now if you're up for it?'

no no NO!

I sighed getting more and more freaked out as I neared her window. This was it, I was finally going after the girl my heart ached for.

What if she doesn't answer?

What if she thinks I'm not serious?

What if... what if she loves Ron now?

I felt anger bubble up inside of me at the thought. No. Surely she doesn't love him? How could she? I've been there from the beginning and all of a sudden she falls for him?

That must've been what y/n was thinking when she saw you with Enid.

My heart panged. I was determined to end this. I refused to cause my love any more heartbreak.

So I took a deep breath, and manned the fuck up.

// Y/N //

I was awoken from sleep by light pattering from my window. At first I thought I was imagining it, but sure enough, it kept going. I sat on the side of my bed, thinking about the last time I was awoken my the same thing. It couldn't be.. could it?

I eventually opened the window, only to be hit in the face by a rock... again.

Sure enough, there was Carl, standing there with the same shocked face.

"Shit y/n, sorry.. again.. oh god.."  Carl turned away from me at his place beneath my window running his hands through his hair. I was too shocked to say anything at first. I couldn't believe Carl was at my window again. I eventually mustered up the courage to speak, while still holding my throbbing eye.

"Carl, what the hell are you doing?" I was so confused. I rubbed my eyes and even considered pinching myself to see if this was a dream.

Carl turned back around to face me, his mouth open. He ran a hand down his face, taking a deep breath before beginning his explanation.

"W-well, I was lying in bed and I realised that, well I didn't realise in bed, I-I already knew, I still love Enid though, ju-just not like that, but y-you're my friend but I... I want more y/n. I want you. I love you."

My breath was caught in my throat, I couldn't speak and I could feel myself getting dizzy. Was this really happening? Carl took my silence as a sign to continue.

"This isn't how I planned to say this at all, y/n, but I really love you. like really really. So much that it scares me. And I know that I've been an asshole about it, I-I thought I could bury my feeling for you with Enid but that clearly didn't work and I'm... I'm going to climb up now."

Again, I said nothing. My heart was racing and my thoughts were too scrambled to form any coherent sentences, so I simply nodded and stepped away from the window, allowing Carl to begin his ascent.

I suddenly remembered the times when Carl would climb up here when we were younger. He'd bring comics or chocolate and we'd stay up until the early hours of the morning, just talking. Those were simpler times, before that awful thing called love got in the way.

After a series of grunts and swears from outside my window, Carl finally hauled himself up on to my window ledge and into my room.

"Damn. Haven't done that in a while. Doesn't get easier." Carl panted, hands on his legs. After he regained his breath, he looked about my room, suddenly not knowing what to do.

It was then that I finally decided to take a risk for once in my life. I stepped towards him, his eyes growing wide as I placed my hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at me.

"Promise you won't break my heart?" I whispered.

His eyes flickered from my eyes down to my lips, and it took all my strength not to kiss him. No, not yet. I needed my answer. I couldn't afford another heartbreak.

"I promise y/n, I'm going to look after you."

And with that, I crashed my lips into his.

Cheesy as it is, I felt this tingling sensation spread through me, like fireworks. The warm fuzzy sensation that I had been trying to ignore for so long came back, stronger than ever. Carl wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, lightly tugging at his hair, which he seemed to like as he moaned and gripped my waist tighter. I felt like I was on top of the world right then, and I never wanted it to stop. We continued kissing until we both could barely breathe, but I didn't care. I had never felt so amazing and... alive.

I pouted as he pulled away,  resting his forehead on mine. He chuckled, pulling my waist even closer to him, If it as even possible. Then, he began to sway us from side to side.

"What are you doing?" I raised an eyebrow at him as he chuckled at me.

"Just go with it." he whispered in my ear, giving me shivers down my spine.

This boy has complete control over me, and I didn't mind one bit.

I buried my head into his shoulder, just enjoying the feeling of being in his arms, at last.

I was so wrapped up in Carl's warmth that I hardly noticed that he had begun talking. Wait, not talking...singing.

"Cause maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me," I smiled into his chest, giggling as my cheeks flushing at his adorable gesture, no matter how cheesy and out of tune it was.

"And after all, you're my Wonderwall." I closed my eyes, letting Carl sway us back and forth. After everything I went through, I finally felt like I had my own little piece of happiness. I smiled as Carl placed a gentle kiss on my head.

How did I get so lucky to end up with a heaven like Carl Grimes?

I guess it's just one of those things.

I’m actually really disappointed at how shit this one is, I'm sorry :(((((

y’all might of forgotten that 2 weeks ago I made a post asking people to reblog if they wanted to be included in my taglist, in case you’re wondering why I tagged you and yES I KNOW IT’S 2 WEEKS LATE OK  

TAGLIST: @squirels-angels-and-moose @rainbow-unicorn-pony  @gimmie-steve-harrington @imagine-bvb-today  @completelyxaesthetic @derpypenguin @locaaednaa @imxgrungexkitten

[stylessemantics]

*~ Believe in Magic ~* (ch.1)

- 1 - Lavender-less Potions. Salem-less Times.

——

Harry is just a shy witch he's doing all his magic in a back room, or any room, at his beaten up apartment in the old complex, though his flat actually looks amazing on the inside. He has lived there for ages. Literal ages. He has a black cat, Salem, magical as well, of course, that loves getting in trouble almost as much as he loves getting Harry in trouble.

Mostly, Salem is sneaky. Goes on a hunt one day and doesn’t come back till the next day. Or goes around doing his thing and then Harry gets a knock on the door about how Salem did this or the other, all of it without Harry noticing. He just likes to stroll about town and have a good time. And that’s fine until one day, Salem realises that he doesn’t know where he’s at, and his magic doesn’t have the same reach while he’s far from Harry. He looks like a stray cat, and he’s new to this neighbourhood. Ultimately, Salem is fucked. Left to walk in any direction until he feels Harry near enough for him to try to get back to him.

Harry isn’t completely used to Salem after the time he spent alone with no where to live but his old apartment, after Frisk died. In fact he was just getting used to Salem being a trouble maker and a witty cat. Despite making it 5 years in the building, all Salem continued to do was either get himself in trouble or get Harry in trouble, so, on that day, unfortunately for Salem, Harry had yet to fully notice his absence.

There’s a knock at Harry’s door and it’s weird. Normally no one knocks. He doesn’t have much interaction with the people in this building and who ever might visit him, wouldn’t just knock. They’d phase through the wall, and always sending him a warning that they were coming beforehand, and not this unexpected knock that startles him while he mixes in some raspberry into his potion. He was just practicing, trying different ways to get his sleeping potion to look and taste like tea.

He hides his “lab” with a small spell, to open the door revealing his neighbour. It’s the cute girl that moved in about 5 months ago and with which Harry hadn’t had much interaction with either. She’s nice and bubbly, he knows this, he can hear her at night and when she comes by in the afternoon. He has to admit he has seen her and paid a smudge of attention to the soft looking girl with big brown eyes and round button nose and teeth that line perfectly until the small crooked one that keeps her smile real and not tv commercial fake perfect, which was something harry had immediately liked. But that was it. He hadn’t really snooped or paid any more attention to this girl after that day when she arrived. Maybe he knew she came around in the afternoon after work or college in the morning, only to spend around two to three hours in her flat down the hall from his, and then leaving, for either college or work, until around 8pm.

Harry wouldn’t have any problems talking to her, had he gotten the chance before. She seemed ok and he knew she was nice and perky, which was exactly why he didn’t really seek her out. She was spry and bubbly, maybe a bit too much for him. He’s not a douchey witch, he’s just a bit tired of humans, both mortal interaction, and human behaviour, sometimes got the best of him, specially after having to deal with the same kind of people for over 80 years.

She stands there with a nice dress that’s a bit too lacking in fabric for the weather outside, but Harry refrains from paying any more than needed attention to the outfit she sports. Instead focusing on the black cat in her arms. Harry’s mouth turns into an O shape. “ Hey, I think this is your cat?” “ Oh, lord” Harry turns around quickly to look at his flat. No signs of Salem anywhere. When did he? The sneaky bastard. Harry rolls his eyes quickly and switches back to the girl, taking Salem from her hands. “uh… Thanks for… Bringing him back” The thing is humans are all the same, yet so different, leaving Harry with little to no human interaction skills. His feet carry him to the kitchen where he sets Salem on the countertop. He’s about to give him a downright scolding. Sneaking like that. Only getting him into so much trouble. What if someone saw Salem talking? Or his shiny eyes as he pulled another prank on the old lady downstairs. “ Uhm. Kay. Thanks” is all Harry can say in his quick haste to get rid of the girl at his front door that was so kind to bring back his cat. But his small hiding spell is about to run out and she’s still all prying eyes into his flat. He panics slightly, closing the door.

She’s left to frown at the weird guy living in apartment 5F, and she could have sworn he had closed the door with his mind, as he was too far to have reached with his extended arm. She shrugs off the weird notion and the weird neighbour and picks back up on her way to her flat.

Inside, Harry sighs as his cauldron comes back to view and it’s basically over boiling. He rushes to set down the flames. Traditional potion making is such a hassle. He’s a bit mad at the interruption but glad that someone found Salem before Salem exposed himself, costing both their statuses. “ Salem,” he says and comes to level with his cat. Salem looks at him innocently. “why were you at the neighbours?” but Salem is quiet. He’s sighing under his breath, Salem is going to be like that then… Harry’s about to cast a small spell that will put Salem upside down for an hour, something he knows the cat hates, when he hears a small mewl. Harry’s face is shocked and he snaps in the direction of the black animal. Was that a…? There it is again, the small meow… The typical sound of… a normal cat. Harry’s eyes switch colours, from his usual shiny green, to a menacing gold, as he levels once more with the cat who’s now obviously not Salem. Words of a spell leave his mouths as he now focuses on talking to this normal cat. The poor thing is scared, and most importantly, a female cat. Not at all Salem. The cat is confused, not knowing what to do or where to go, not knowing where it’s at, as it cowers away from Harry’s stare. “ Don’t worry. It’s safe here” Harry reassures the kitten. “I’ll find you a good home” he sighs as the cat jumps in his arms and he removes the spell, eyes back to normal and kitchen smelling like rotten raspberries.

So Harry does what first comes to mind and takes this cat, over to the lovely neighbour at the end of the hall, looking at the big 5A and a small silicone removable sticker of a pumpkin she’s plastered on the wooden door.

She’s startled. She hasn’t really made friends with anyone while she’s been here. She’s probably the youngest in the building, not that she would have any problems talking and befriending the nice old ladies from 6A through 6C, and the doorman always knows her delivery orders and sets aside her mail for when she leaves in the morning, and she brings him his favourite coffee when she comes back before he’s gone on the shift switch, but that’s not really enough to consider a friendship. The only other person who could might have the same interests as her and maybe would go out with her to have fun, catch a movie, or just hang out at her apartment, is the tall, english major looking dude in 5F. He’s got to be around her age. Oh how wrong she was.

She’s surprised to see him, the guy from 5F, holding his cat in his arms. She had found the cat walking left and right outside by the dumpsters of the complex, and immediately recognised it as her neighbour’s cat, the one she had seen multiple times run down the hall and come up and down the stairs, only to make a sharp turn and rush back into the lad’s apartment by the small dog-opening. Funny that a cat went in through that, but functional she supposes. She never thought the kitty would be ok with her approaching it, but the little black ball of fur let itself be carried by her with no problem, allowing her to give it back to its rightful owner.

She looks at the curly headed man in front of her and gives him a warm smile. Maybe he’s there to properly thank her for finding his pretty cat, after all he was a bit rude when she brought him back. “ Hey, uhm. This isn’t my cat” are the words that escape his lips and she frowns in shock. What does he mean? How can that not be his cat, it’s identical. The crazy thought that maybe it’s his cat’s twin passes through her brain, but she’s quick to swallow it, stowing it away to laugh at later by herself. She stutters and Harry’s a bit annoyed, overall concerned over the fact that this was not Salem, neither was it a trick by Salem with a decoy cat. And then the young neighbour is opening her door wider and asking him to please come in. Harry hesitates. He’s awkward around humans as it is. And now she’s inviting him in after he was a bit rude to her and when he’s had no previous mental preparation for any human interaction longer than needed. His palms are sweaty. Maybe it’s cause she’s wearing the cutest pijama bottoms he’s seen, they look soft and they end above her knee, allowing him a quick look at her legs up-close. And her socks have little cherries on them, matching the pants. No. That’s definitely not it. Maybe his palms are sweaty because he’s rusty in human interaction. He’s really rusty. That’s it.

He puts one foot in front of the other, slowly coming in, the small cat meowing and purring.

Her flat is nice. There’s not much in it. Harry sniffles a bit after walking in. Minimal looking couch, a small tv, and a large bookshelf. Also some nice art decorating her walls, and the rug… The rug looks soft. Harry kind of wants to remove his boots and socks and just stand on it and feel the material under his toes. Wiggle them. Also her walls are a very light beige. Almost white, with an accent wall painted blue right before you enter the kitchen. Harry doesn’t know much about her, other than what he’s gathered from quietly listening in through the walls or peeking through his blinds, but immediately this flat screams “HER” so much. Harry sniffles.

“ Have a seat, would you like a cuppa?” She asks politely and Harry declines. Though he would love a cuppa, right now he would like to escape as quickly as possible. “ No… thanks…” Harry bounces on the balls of his feet and sniffles. “So. This isn’t… Salem” Harry grimaces. The stupid name of his cat is so obvious. But all she seems to do is smile and pour him a cuppa anyways. “ How do you know?” she asks and Harry opens his mouth. For starters it’s a female cat. Secondly… It doesn’t talk and it won’t do any magic… Just saying it’s a female cat will do, right? It’s also missing the small collar Harry had donned Salem, just human formalities, so Salem did look like a real cat, with a real owner. And just in case they ever needed or had to be apart, Salem could let any witch know where he belonged. But she’s quick to continue talking “Oh jesus, Y/N you’re dumb. Of course you know it’s not your cat. It’s your cat for heaven’s sake.” She slaps a hand to her forehead, as if scolding herself, though Harry can only think ‘Y/N… Fitting name’, as he sniffles once more. His nose a bit runny. Probably the cold air outside. “ I’m Harry, by the way.” he feels awkward not introducing himself so he drops it slightly. She’s quick to catch it as she sips her tea and pets the small cat’s head “So.. Uhm… This isn’t my cat…” Great Harry, you already said that. “This is a girl. Salem’s a boy. And the collar…” his voice trails off. The collar only works with other witches and magical creatures. Note to self, Harry, buy Salem an actual human world collar. “I was wondering…” He’s quick to continue, before she can ask much about the collar. Thought why would she… it’s only normal for a pet to have a… Ah, fuck sake Harry you’re getting yourself in even worse shit. “W-would you be willing to… keep this… ca- At-cHOO!” “Oh, bless you!” she says in her sweet voice. Y/N is quick to hand him a napkin and take the small cat from his arms. Of course she would be willing to keep this cat. She would need to buy food and a bed and a lot of cat related stuff, and she’s never had a cat before, ever in her life, having always been more of a fish person. But she’s up for it. She’s about to tell him just that when “ At-chhOOO!” “ Lord, bless you” “ Do… do you… at-CHOO!” Harry can’t talk. There’s something tingling his nose, making goosebumps rise and tickling his throat, as he can’t hold in the next sneeze, and the next, and the next. His eyes become glossy and red as he stumbles about, covering his face with the napkin she provided and breathing harshly. He can now fully sense it. “Laven- at-CHOO!” “Pardon me?” “ I’m allergic to-to… Lavender ah… AH-“ the sneeze doesn’t come out, leaving Harry with tingles on the tip of his nose. Y/N gasps and takes the napkin form his hand. Lavender is her favourite. She buys lavender scented napkins, and lavender scented detergent, and she sprays her bathroom with lavender, left and right. In conclusion, this flat is just an allergy bomb waiting to explode for Harry. He avoids lavender at all costs, it’s unfortunate, for it’s sometimes an essential part of many potions, but he just has Salem drop them in the cauldron and he’s glad it doesn’t cause any rash or something when he takes a sip of the potions, just the smell of it makes his eyes water, throat burn a slight bit and “at-cHOO!” “ Jesus! Harry, leave right now! Oh my god” Y/N’s freaking out, pushing him out of her flat and quickly shutting the door behind him. She quickly makes a mental note to eliminate all lavender items from her house, that is if she ever wants Harry to come back around. Wait… Does she?

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Witch!Harry has started. I have to admit I’m not as sure about this as I was before. Let me know? Chapter 2 : Coming Monday, January 16th. #BIM tag. Intro Here. Schedule Here.

Ch.2 here

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Also: Inspo: Can I just say Harry sneezing is the cutest thing? I mean I’m sorry cause it means he’s sick but... awwwww look at it. LOOK AT IT.

—— Iv. xo