#but there’s a thin line in which you begin believing the jokes you make or make them so much that they negatively affect you

[whimsyprinx]

gallows humor is cathartic but watch out

[nightunite]

The Menace Meets his Match

PER THE REQUEST OF OUR LOOOOOOOOVELY @beloveds-embrace WHO REQUESTED SIMON SUFFERING I introduce to you the Madame! A character who I wish to be one day tbh. Warning now, there are MAJOR Spoilers ahead for the entire AU, please read with caution!

"What the bloody hell is this?!" A newspaper lands on the table with a weighty thwap!, Simon following it with looming over the woman in the chair. She pauses, giving him a sidelong glance, before setting her teacup onto the saucer and gently closing her book. "I believe that is a newspaper, Marquess Riley. Do you need someone to read it for you, perhaps?" Simon glowers at her, slamming himself into the seat opposite her before aggressively poking the paper as though it offends him.

To the Madame's amusement, it probably does.

"I can read the damned thing! What I want to know is what this rubbish your idiotic little friend chose to print is, and why my name is attached to it." Ah, that section of the paper. She'd been hoping it would stick in his craw. Madame sets her book completely aside; if the Marquess wishes to play this game with her, she'll happily oblige. She makes eye contact with the shop staff, a truly lovely girl who comes up with the best seasonal blends, and gives her a nod before turning to face the man in front of her. "I take it you're referring to Phillip's latest pieces concerning our darling little town." Simon scoffs, "'Pieces', yeah. Pieces of shite is what they are." "How so? I fail to see anything he's printed that's incorrect." "You know what's incorrect!" He growls out, "You have Graves out here spreading gossip that I'm a lousy lay! Last I checked, you're the one who came to me about tending to your needs, you sneaky-" "Tea, your graces?" The girl holds up the teapot, quickly filling and refilling Simon and Madame's cups respectively, giving a stilted head nod that Madame returns before she retreats back behind the counter to safety. Simon exhales through his nose before moving his mask, a thin piece to account for the oppressive heat of the summer, and taking a sip as is, nothing added. Once he sets his cup down with a gentle clink, she decides it's time for the fun to truly begin. “Let’s face the facts: I spilled the secrets of our dalliance to Phillip and cut your ego down to the size of your cock, where I was left unimpressed and ultimately unsatisfied by both.” Madame cuts him off with a raised hand, taking a quick sip of her tea, “That’s not to say you were terrible. In the end, I got there all the same. I simply don’t understand the excitement with which these women speak about you. I can only guess it’s because your usual quarry has little to no experience beyond their fantasies and fiction.” She refuses to flinch when he slams his hand on the table, rattling the porcelain and making the eavesdropping girl squeak and duck into the back. It's been a long time since a man made her rethink her actions, and she'll be cold in the ground well before she does it again. Though he should tread more carefully, his silly little tantrum is only fun for so long... "That's all lies and you know it! Graves has never once printed a damn thing worth a pence! He only knows how to deal in gossip and the only reason he's still in business is because empty-headed aristocrats enjoy that schlock!" "Oh, is that so? I suppose then that our latest Baroness did not recently bear an heir to the Konig line?" Wetting the tip of her finger, an action Simon's eyes follow without his permission, she flips the paper back to the front page, carefully avoiding any ink transfer.

There on the front reads "An Heir is Born! Welcome, Baby Baron Benedikt!" in bold font, the following columns detailing the little boy's arrival with some mention of his parents. Notably how his deep blue eyes were an inheritance from his father's side while his ears were (thankfully, joked the mirthful Baron, holding his son in the crook of an arm with a finger tight in Benedikt's chubby grasp) entirely his mother's. Simon takes another sip of his tea in an effort to gather his thoughts, but she won't let him.

“Ah yes, such a sweet child, and my those eyes are quite stunning in person! Though that reminds me Marquess Riley, how is your dear friend Duke MacTavish these days? I heard tales of a vandal sneaking his way into the duchy recently. Busted up three rooms, they say. Though, that’s a rumor too, isn’t it? Can’t imagine who else would have done it, or why.” He freezes as her grin grows, teeth showing akin to a fox that's cornered a rabbit. It's clear that she's been waiting to catch him wrong-footed, and like a fool he stepped into her trap. No matter, he can grit his teeth and bear the brunt of this hellish conversation for Johnny's sake. Ah, the suffering of men. She takes in his suffering with a deep inhale. Truly the only thing she needed to complete her afternoon tea. Speaking of tea though, she supposes she's spent enough time and attention on this man. Now to send him retreating with his tail between his legs. “If you don't wish to speak on silly rumors or lackluster bedroom antics, perhaps you'll be more inclined towards discussing drinks. I've heard you're quite the collector of tea, so I must ask you, how are you finding the tea? It’s my own personal blend.” That, however, sends a chill down his spine. He sets the cup back down, tragically empty, while his mind moves on its own. It was no secret that the Madame was a large fan of tea, growing her own varieties amongst a wide array of exotic (and in some cases, fatal) plants in her personal garden, the one thing that was hers when she wed her late husband. Yet that changed when he rapidly grew ill, a fever setting in followed by intense soreness and inability to keep food down, the sickness leeching the life from his bones and rotting him by the day. A painful and slow death, he was scraped along into his grave by death, the official cause unknown. The coroner never found proof of foul play, but it was no surprise when the Madame stood taller the moment the first shovel's worth of dirt hit the closed casket. At that thought he stood, aware of the danger of the man-eater across from him. A tactical retreat was in order. "I can see you and Graves share much in common. Hopefully this doesn't come back to bite you, Madame." With a mocking bow he moves towards the exit, content to make his escape into the warm afternoon air. Yet just as he reaches the door, her voice wraps around his ears, a far cry from the noises she made that night weeks ago. “Oh, Marquess Riley?” She calls, Simon turning to glare back at her smug expression, her hand fan gently cooling her face, the embroidered silk bearing a nightshade flower in the center. “You’re dismissed.” It takes everything in him not to snap back like a child. His guts boil and clench inside him as he snarls beneath his mask, teeth bared as he stalks out of the small tea shop, shoulders hiding the blazing red of his ears. He marches to his driver and demands to return home, this trip nothing but a plague upon his blood and brain. ' Let her have her laughs now, but she won't be the one cackling at the end', he thinks. That night, Simon lay awake with the worst bout of indigestion he had ever experienced, stuck cursing the Madame between episodes of vomiting and shaking.

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Gordon Ramsay x Reader Slow Burn Dom/Sub FF

Yes, I'm serious. It has about a million reads on assorted fanfiction websites, so trust me and them when I say you'll love it

Click for the previous chapter

Monday, June 24th, 2013

The other contestants and I gather at the entrance to the airport, waiting inside for further instructions–Monday airport traffic is no joke. Cars line up outside and throngs of people weave their way through each other, toting suitcases. That's not to say the airport lobby of Los Angeles is not stunning; the tall glass windows allow for the beautiful day's sunlight to shine through.

I take this time to examine my competition. There are fifteen other chefs aside from myself that are going to be competing against each other this season–eight men and eight women. Most of them are sitting in the airport lobby chairs, idly chatting to one another. I stand to the side of the chairs, leaning on the handle of my rolling suitcase. Thinking back to past seasons, I wonder which chefs were put here to stir up drama. My wondering is cut short with an uncanny interruption.

A woman with bleached blonde hair, dressed in a low-cut floral top and a short white skirt gathers everyone's attention. Or at least, the attention of the people who weren't already staring at her nearly exposed breasts.

"Oh my GOD can you guys believe it!" She bounces in place, her boobs jiggling, "I'm like, actually here. Of all the applicants I got picked! I can't wait to see which of you makes it to the final five with me."

She pauses, then grins wickedly like the Cheshire cat.

"Should be real easy, my competition doesn't look very... fierce." Her eyes quickly flit about the contestants, stopping on me for what seems to be a second longer than the others.

One of the few to not be at a loss for words is a middle-aged, stout, and bald man who scoffs at her.

"This is Hell's Kitchen, not Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Unless you keep your cooking skill in those tits then I doubt you'll make it to the final five with that self-absorbed attitude. This is a team game."

His voice is commanding, and surprisingly the blonde looks sheepish at being talked down to. By the time that a tall man in a suit approaches us, she hasn't managed to come up with a snarky retort.

"Hell's Kitchen contestants?" He questions the group. After seeing our collective nods he continues. "Please follow me." He turns and walks towards the sliding glass doors, exiting the airport.

Our bustling group happily follow him to a sleek black limousine with the initials "HK" branded on the side parked outside the loading gate. We all look giddily at each other. Excitement buzzes through my body as I lock eyes with the girl next to me, her brown curls bouncing in place as she jitters. We both give a shy grin, recognizing the other's excitement. As we approach the limo, the driver opens the door and lets us inside.

The limo is plush and cozy and there is an icebox with a bottle of champagne situated in the middle. The driver introduces himself as Paul and passes out champagne glasses to all of us before he takes his seat at the front and begins the drive to Hell's Kitchen. A few eyes lock onto the champagne bottle, but no one seems to have the confidence to crack it open.

The girl who had stood next to me earlier slides in next to me with a breathless, "Hey!"

"Hi!" I grin. "I'm (Y/N), and you?"

"Taylor." She returns the smile. She has a string of piercings up her ears, some hoops and some studs. Her hazel eyes shine with joy, the browns nearly matching her light tan skin tone.

"Are you as nervous as me?" I ask, my heartbeat in my ears as we pull up to a red light.

"Totally. This doesn't feel real, I've never been in a competition, much less on TV. I know my bro won't let me live it down if I don't do my best, so I'm trying to ignore my jitters. Can't let nerves interfere with my work." She lets out a puff of air and glances around the limo.

One of the younger men; green-eyed, thin, with messy ruffled brown hair, takes hold of the champagne bottle. "We can't let this go to waste, guys!" He says, opening it swiftly and pouring glasses for everyone with finesse. His winning smile is contagious as he confidently leads us all in a discussion of where we'd come from to get here, and cracks a few jokes. Soon enough all of us are smiling and laughing.

After about thirty minutes of driving the lights of the tinted window limo go out, leaving us in partial darkness. The chatter dies down and everyone looks around confused. A small TV flips open above the window between the driver and us contestants. On that TV is none other than Chef Ramsay, wearing his striking white head chef jacket with his arms crossed over his chest in his signature pose.

"Good afternoon, Hell's Kitchen contestants! I hope you all are enjoying yourselves on your trip to Hell, because things are about to get a lot less luxurious. As soon as you arrive, I expect you to hop in the kitchen and begin work on THE signature dish of yours that you are," he adamantly shakes his fist, "MOST proud of." The passion in his eyes burns in a way that can be felt through the screen. All of us are silent, at rapt attention. I feel my heart flutter at how fervently he encourages us. If he's anything like this in person, it'll be easy to be motivated by his words alone.

"You have forty-five minutes from the moment you arrive to complete your signature dish. The red and blue team will be competing, so be sure your dish impresses if you want your team to win. I will meet you all as soon as you've finished. Good luck, contestants." He turns his back to us as the screen folds up and the lights turn back on.

We are silent for a few seconds when the woman sitting next to the screen says, "Gee, he sure is intimidating."

She is so small that–when squished into a stretch limo with fifteen other people–she may as well get lost in the cushions. Her curly red hair frames her pale white face, and she has freckles across her nose that stand out when her skin drains of color, as it is now.

The man to her left, somewhat built, brown-eyed and black-haired with a buzz cut wraps his muscled arm around her shoulder, rapidly bringing color to her cheeks.

"Chin up Red!" He exclaims. "Ya wanna be brave when you talk to Ramsay. Even if you're scared, don't show 'em that ya are."

She nods delicately, curling her shoulders in to avoid touching his arm as much as possible. He doesn't seem to notice and leaves it around her for the duration of the ride.

[tempestuous-tempest]

Again! Wrench Headcanons:

Guess this 28/41 year old is my hyperfixation for a while.[Age depends on which game he's in. WD2 has him at canonically 28 while Legion makes him canonically 41 years old.] This is about the length of my Deacon Rambles post...

Was a high school drop out at some point. Always getting in trouble for skipping classes, taking shit apart, having his hood/mask on, fighting because he didnt get along with people, etc etc. He hated school.

I see him as the type to have been a drummer in a band at one point. Eventually the band just fell apart but he has some of their songs on his phone still.

Loved the movie Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. In his mind, it had a badass sound track. 7 Nation Army by The White Stripes and Black Sheep by Metric and Brie Larson were real bangers in his mind.

Reeks of beer and gasoline most of the time. Change my mind.

Deadpool is this man's icon. Some of his jokes are inspired by jokes from the comics or movies. Has posters, funkos, obviously the comics and movies, and even dressed up as his own punk version of deadpool loosely based on the funko mini. His personal favorite mini was the chicken costume.

Has a unicorn stuffed animal himself.

Also likes Spider-Punk.

Likes Motorcycles a little bit more than cars.

Detective films? Yes. Action Movies? Definitely. Sci-Fi? Hell Yeah! Horror? Maybe not so much.

People seem to be unable to decide whether Wrench is Bi or Pan. I personally think he'd be Pansexual.

Doesn't like cleaning as he states ingame. Will clean if the mess starts to bother him. Or if Sitara makes him.

High metabolism which is why he's so thin.

Throwns in tons of movie/game references when speaking expecting people to get them and then has to explain them when they dont. Definitely geeks out when someone does.

You know that one audio trend with the person singing CPR and someone else yelling "Language"? He'd be the singer and Sitara would be the one yelling at him to mind his language.

Sends the most odd videoes at the most random of times.

Also the kind of guy that might not respond until like and hour or 2 later.

Tries to be pretty quiet in the mornings, besides the music blasting in his earbuds/headphones.

The more I think about the more I start to believe that his "bad driving" is just a thing he makes people believe until you see his dumb ass in a race and this fucker blows you away with his skills. Then you start to really understand why he can do perfect drifts getting away from the police or gangs in a chace.

Due to his always racing thoughts, he sometims forgets some things. Like he gets sent out to take out the trash, goes to the kitchen, forgets why he went in there, does a few circles to try and remember, then gives up and goes back to his room or workspace. It'll hit him like 20 minutes later.

Favorite food is probably Tacos. Pizza close in like 2nd or 3rd place, maybe.

Decent at voice impressions, if you couldnt tell.

Oh, and for those who absolutely need them, have some romance headcanons too:

Didn't show his face to his S/O until like 6 months into the relationship at the least. He was so fucking nervous too.

Wouldn't even fully open up about his past until probably a year in at the least.

Prepare for cheesy love songs, matching key chains, corny pick up lines, bits of playful teasing, and a lot of small physical touches. (Mostly hand holding but would wrap his arms around his s/o's waist) His s/o also wrapping their arms around his waist drives him nuts.

Needs a lot of reassurance that his s/o loves him. I wouldnt say constantly but quite a few times in the relationship, especially at the beginning.

He isnt exactly scared of commitment as he had a husband at one point. Key word: "Had". Dont expect him to fully settle down though. He still plans to fight until he is sure this battle is really over.

Two Words: Super. Clingy.

Might forget an anniversary, dont hold it against him. He sometimes forgets what he had for breatfast 15 minutes ago.

As I've mentioned before, he does not like kids. Don't expect a family with him.

No planned dates unless his s/o is the one who plans them. He kinda just does things whenever if both have the free time.

Makes sure to dial down his weirdness just a little so his s/o is comfortable. He takes things slow if they want them to be.

Was definitely taking forever to actually ask his s/o out. Hoped they would do it first but then got impatient after a while and just blurted out everything.

This is getting too long. Im done for now.

[peachjagiya]

https://x.com/tekookmoments/status/1811810379804135873

Tbh I do kinda agree with what this appytappy person is sayin. They are all(comp+members) very aware of what goes on in the fd. It's not like shippers are new or just limited to their little corner. They are pretty loud, have been so since the beginning. I think if the people involved aren't much affected by the narrative that has been set for them for years now, then we are no one to police the people who joke about it 🤷🏻‍♀️

Oof this is complicated.

I have a lot of disjointed seemingly contrasting thoughts on this so bear with me.

I am not terribly offended by jokes about them having sex. As I've said before, I'm pretty difficult to shock and this seems like nothing compared to what I'm used to. I do not like the low key thread of puritanical sex-shaming inherent in "this is DISGUSTING," when it's literally like "they're having gay sex!"

But...

You make these jokes at a risk of criticism. RP shipping or even just RP fandom always carries a risk that you're crossing a line. I'm going to talk about the way I personally talk so I don't seem like I think I'm immune to this critique.

I make a joke about His Royal Thighness Namjoon, right? I am aware there are some people who might find it to be objectifying. I skirt that line knowingly and prepared to face the consequence of someone saying "don't you think that's a bit like objectifying him?"

Because they're right, aren't they? Maybe I defend my right to say stupid stuff on the internet and maybe I'm not necessarily going to stop because finding someone attractive is hardly a crime but I'm certainly not going to tell the person who finds it objectionable that they're wrong. I'm going to recognise the thin ice and balance it with more considered narrative.

And...

I would be mortified if even my most innocuous commentary broke containment and the members saw. This goes for individual members pr subunits, management, bodyguards, staff, close friends and acquaintances of the members.

I'm well aware that they see stuff. But the idea of them seeing stuff certainly keeps me in my place when it comes to defending my words. I'm not posting about Namjoon's thighs to weverse or in the comments of live or on his instagram and the mindset of a person who can flood lives with inappropriate questions will remain baffling to me.

Which leads to the bigger issue and the most visceral ick reaction I had to this...

There's an implication of victim-blaming here.

Trigger warning: small undetailed mention of sexual assault in the section between purple 🟣

"They're aware of the things we say and they still do it so it's on them" is gross. You dance around the boundaries of proper behaviour, write the sexual things and they now can't go anywhere near each other? Think how that sounds.

🟣 It might seem like a big leap from that to "she wore a short skirt therefore wanted to be SA'd" but it's the small pernicious ideas that create the ethos that allows that disgusting logic to thrive. 🟣

They could literally be kissing on screen and you don't get to say "Eh they're ok with anything I say then."

Literally how does Jimin (or JK, whichever it is) moving from sitting to sleeping in a bed seemingly by himself result in sexual discussion anyway? Let alone sexual discussion that they've kidded themselves into believing he himself is "okay with" because he dared to *checks notes* be in a bed? They've sexualised a guy laying down. That's absolutely not on him and I despise the accusation that he's feeding it. He is not complicit because they can't act right.

So...

Do it if you must. But do it knowing some people are going to think you're an idiot.

Some people are going to roll their eyes. They need to recognise that fundamentally, they're doing the inappropriate thing. Nobody is actually taking away their freedom to say dumb stuff on the internet and have fun with their internet friends... but a little humility wouldn't go amiss.

But whatever you do, leave the they love it argument at home. Or in the trash where it belongs.

And finally..

Why do they think a camera crew is filming them making out? PLEASE BEHAVE.

[wormchamp72]

No the person that send the ask abt JTK story is right, it did lack many things to make it good if you write you'd know. Jeff quite literally went insane without any explanation whatsoever in the beginning of the story, it's just got added to make him feel bad ass

The story also lack good grammar, depth of the characters and god forbid the unrealistic storyline. Not a single 12 years old carry knives around and act like an American high school bully from a Hollywood movie, they don't fucking 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱 people and that's facts. They don't go around and lit people on fire in some kids birthday. You could IMMEDIATELY tell that it's written by some edgy kids that probably went through not even half of what they wrote. If you haven't read ticci toby story (which btw should be easier to read since they actually go in depth and explain his thinking, motives and backstory and not leave it plain to the eyes can see). When it comes to some writing it's not subjective, if it's bad it is bad. There is something like bad writing. (Take loads of generative soft porn books that people read now a days, the writing is shite with little to no plot progress despite masking it as a romance book. You don't see their relationship develop because they're always too busy fucking. That is bad writing.)

Unlike art which is harder to say if its bad or not since they rely heavily on stylisation and every art piece is unique on it's own as it value the progress more than the finished piece, something like a bad writing is easy to make especially when you don't care enough to put effort into it.

Did you miss everything I said in my last post concerning the writing of JTK (Jeff the Killer)??

First off, writing IS art. And art---and I mean ALL art---is subjective by definition. And, as all art does, it comes with stylization. Compare the rich, descriptive prose of Dostoyevsky 2 the simple yet visceral and hard-hitting prose of Stephen King. Is one worse than the other simply because of their different styles? I think not.

Stephen King...now, that name sounds familiar. Was it not he that wrote the novel It? I believe it was in It that the twelve year old bully Henry Bowers walked around armed...with what? Oh. That's right---A KNIFE. Oh, sorry. I forgot that's "unrealistic," which makes it bad. Yes, Stephen King, renowned horror author, is notoriously known for being a BAD WRITER. Go ahead. Tell me Stephen King is bad.

And just because something is made by an "edgy" fourteen year old does not automatically make it bad. Most good art comes from being "edgy", or rather the willingness 2 step outside the norm. In our society, "edgy" is just a synonym for challenging.

"Jeff quite literally went insane without any explanation whatsoever in the beginning of the story" Um...have you read a little story called The Killing Joke? All it takes is one bad day (my life has been a long series of one bad days)....clearly you have never felt yourself teeter on the brink of insanity, toe that fine line...Because if you did, you would understand just how thin the line is between those we call normal and those we call crazy.

Before you go challenge someone on their turf, next time, get 2 know them first. Because yeah. I am a writer. And I know a thing or two about the craft.

And also The Worm does not tolerate k1nk shaming on this blog.

[hxdrostorms]

Continued from x - @shouxryuuxha

                                                      𝗕𝗘 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗘. 𝗕𝗘 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗘. 𝗕𝗘 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗘. 𝗕𝗘 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗘. A constant line that was being repeated in his head. Just how did anyone expect him to act? Uncivil?To go for the neck? HE HAD HIS RIGHT TO DO SO BUT THAT'S BESIDES THE POINT. Besides, This is was a new DM. Shiryu was not sure how much he believed that. But, the cloth of cancer had not rejected its master anymore & that should count for something. Maybe that why he was the one TASKED to make the saint feel WELCOMED at the Kido estate. Yes. Have him be showed around by the one saint DM was on THIN ICE with.                                                       This had to be test. Or some collisal joke. It had better be a test, for he wasNOT. LAUGHING. ❛ Nothing is off. I am being civil with you as I would be with anyone else. We are not the same people we were when we first met. Everyone should be allowed a second chance. Think of it as do over for the FIRST IMPRESSION. ❜ People can change. Look at Ikki. Saga. If they can be forgiven. So can Deathmak.

                                                ❛ So, if you do not mind. We will start over. ❜ His hand extended itself out. This will indeed be the ULTIMATE test to if people can change. ❛ I'm Shiryu. ❜

Athena's ultimate blessing came in the form of entirely new lives, to the brave saints that sacrificed themselves in the most crucial moment of the war against Hades.

Although his cloth no longer rejected him, it still didn't mean he had fully re-gained its trust. As evident by how heavy his cloth weighted on his back. This brief exchange between them was more than enough, to make it gain a few extra pounds, in response to the aggressiveness that came from his end.

At some point, Deathmask was forced to set his gold pandora box on the floor beside his feet, while Shiryu spoke to him. His shoulders ached, which served as a reminder for him to keep the animosity towards the other, at bay. Even though he was the one responsible, for ending the past life to begin with.

It was still a very tough pill to swallow. But it was a necessary one. Despite everything, Deathmask had no intentions of disrespecting their Goddess, in any shape or form.

Turn the fucking page already.

The Cancer saint thought to himself, as he finally locked eyes with Shiryu and noticed the extended hand at him. "Now, we don't need to get that far, already." Deathmask commented in a rare calm tone that lacked its usual taunting, as he refused to shake it. He proceeded to stretch his arms, and roll his sore shoulders. "This new life has just begun, I've been on the road for a month or so." He broke the eye contact, in order to peer over the beautiful scenery of the property.

"I didn't know this was Athena's property. Or, whatever name she goes by outside of the Sanctuary." There was a brief pause. "She isn't really here, is she?"

[downbytheriversside]

something you think that's underrated (show, music, ship, habit, animal, absolutely anything. can be multiple/a list. go wild)

Oh get ready to be here a while here we fuckin go...

Wind. It reminds me what it's like to be alive

Matt Maltese. Sad boy music that's so so good and makes me feel so much pain and catharsis. Also a lot of his songs are byler/Mike coded. You deserve an Oscar, shoe, everyone adores you, outrun the bear (byler will pov), as the world caves in, strange time (its second or third line is literally "and we'll both gladly lose our minds LIKE!!). Also paper thin hotel is tom wambsgan's song, and tom wambsgan's alone.

Lucas GODDAMN Sinclair. Need I say more? Doesn't matter cus I'm gonna- I genuinely believe he's the best written and performed character in the whole show, he's my sweet child ray of sunshine I love him dlfkgkfdn and he would NOT be the same without what Caleb brings to the table in his performance. And since day ONE he fucking ATE I keep putting EMPHASIS on so many WORDS but I digress. I do understand the problems with some of his writing which sucks but he is still incredible and you can tell that Caleb cares so much about him which I always love to see

The oh hellos album dear wormwood. Omg. Omfg. It's fucking TRANSCENDENT. ANYONE READING THIS WHO HAS GONE THROUGH/IS GOING THROUGH A TOXIC OR ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP OF ANY KIND LISTEN TO THIS IT IS SO HEALING. Not only is it cathartic asf but it depicts the anger and regret and pain and resignation and fucking every emotion under the sun that you experience in those kinds of relationships. And just how connected all of the songs are. The album itself is a loop, seriously. The last part of Thus Always to Tyrants (the final song on the album) leads right into the beginning of Prelude. And while we're on the subject of thus always to tyrants can we talk about how fucking impactful it is to end the album on that note? On a bittersweet toast to the people who hurt us because there is no getting rid of what they did, only making yourself stronger from it and healing?!!? About the notion that what they did was terrible but that is something you'll never forget because you can't but you're moving on to better things, wondering if they will change/have changed from who you knew them as?!??! ARE YOU FUCKNG KIDDING ME!!!!! AND just how connected the lyrics and melodies are in all of the songs. I've listened to the whole album easily over a hundred times and I still notice new lines that relate to each other or when bg melodies in one song are the main motif (?) of another. You can tell how much care and thought and love and emotion was put into its creation and I love it so so so much. Also if you dear reader do not want to spend 40 min listening to the album please please please just listen to Pale White Horse and Where is Your Rider. Oh. My. Fucking. God. Jesus fuck these songs. I'm just typing about them and I got chills like. I'm not joking at all when I say these songs actually changed my life. And the interconnectedness of them (sorta like a horse and its rider?) is just so special. They're whole fucking experiences to listen to and I will never get tired of it. Aaaaaaaahhh I wanna keep talking about this album but we'd be here for a long long long time but I might make a post about it if anyone was actually interested on my music blog @lyricsdumblikethelinoleumfloor at some point so. Stick around for that ?

Forehead kisses. We need more of those pls

Sincerity. For the love of the night sky. BE EARNEST! BE SINCERE!! BE GENUINE I WILL FUCKING STAB YOU-

Little thumb rubs while holding hands

My mutuals all of you deserve love and appreciation and tenderness every one of you fuckers I love you all <33333

Cucumbers. Shit fucks

LIBRARIES! Please if you can visit your local library, it'll be so lovely I prommy

Humans committing to silly bits together. And just like building off of each other's energy. One of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed and that I'm so grateful to have experienced

Introspection. For the love of fuck pleaaaase more people need this. Everyone needs to practice introspection idc just do it it's not some shameful act it just helps you grow

Peach flavoured things. They're yummy 😋

My ever growing gnome figurine collection pretty underrated imo kinda flying under the radar imho

Burger King foot lettuce

Laying on the floor and doing nothing. 10/10 activity honestly. Especially when you're in a sun spot shit fucks

And that's m'list! Glad you made it to the end, sorry for the long post

[adamwatchesmovies]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990)

No adult who didn’t grow up watching the 1987 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles animated series has any business watching the 1990 live-action film. While the animatronics and costumes bringing the reptilian heroes to life are impressive, the humor is juvenile, characters thin and the dialogue bad. These facts didn’t matter to the film’s intended audience. The beloved pizza-eating shadow warriors appearing on the big screen was enough and everyone knew it. The poster’s tagline of “Hey dudes this is NO cartoon” made it abundantly clear. It’ll continue to engage young viewers even today but children of the ‘80s who revisit it will be disappointed unless they're wearing thick rose-tinted glasses.

Mutated by radioactive ooze, raised in the sewers of New York by a rat who knows Kung Fu and obsessed with pizza, Michelangelo (Robbie Rist), Raphael (Josh Pais), Donatello (Corey Feldman) and Leonardo (Brian Tochi) are unlikely heroes. When the Foot Clan, a criminal organization of ninjas led by the mysterious “Shredder” (James Saito), begins recruiting the youth of NYC, the turtles team up with news reporter April O’Neal (Judith Hoag) and vigilante Cassie Jones (Elias Koteas) to take them down.

You’d never guess Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was made for a mere $13.5 million. Even when you consider the inflation, this is a good-looking movie. Our crazy-looking heroes interact with each other and with people, speak, eat, fight, ride skateboards, and so on. The lip-synch may be slightly off here and there but the illusion is convincing.

I can also praise the film for staying true to itself. The source material is a tough pill to swallow but the screenplay by Todd W. Langen and Bobby Herbeck doesn’t try to make the concept more digestible by making the turtles aliens or making their sensei/father into a man that was transformed into a rat-like creature. They’re 15-year-old shell warriors who love pizza and speak like surfer dudes. If you don’t buy that, the movie doesn’t want anything to do with you. It’s going to keep moving along those lines and doesn’t want to waste time dealing with semantics.

I suppose I can give a thumbs up to some of the film’s humorours sequences. They are genuinely funny about half the time and even when the gags are bad, they never go for fart jokes or other low-hanging fruit. Beyond this, I wish I had more nice things to say. This movie tries to do too much. It’s introducing the four protagonists, plus April, Cassie Jones, Shredder, Splinter, April’s boss and his troubled son, all on top of the characters’ origin and the actual plot. As a result, we hardly get to know the mutant heroes. They're virtually indistinguishable from each other except maybe Raphael, who has anger issues. Shredder is just as bad. We know nothing about him except that he’s evil and needs to be defeated.

Unless you already love the turtles and are overjoyed seeing them beat up an endless number of incompetent foot soldiers, the plot doesn’t offer much at all. It might be more “grown up” by daring to have a few of its characters curse (that surely rattled some cages back in the day) but the story has no depth. The dialogue is filled with groan-worthy one-liners, which to me makes the warriors believable as cartoon versions of teenagers. As a kid, I might’ve idolized these “grown up” turtles. Today, I find them mostly annoying. That goes double for the rap that introduces the end credits.

I choose to call Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles a good movie because it accomplishes its objectives. This is an unpretentious action comedy that wants nothing to do with the non-fans of the turtles. Everyone was into this franchise at the time and it continues to draw an audience. Kids will laugh at the turtles’ antics, be shocked when they get hurt, and cheer when the bad guys get what’s coming to them. It’s not for me and probably not for anyone reading this but I can see the appeal. (November 6, 2020)

[whenitsdarkweilluminate]

Lisbon 2018 – Semi-Final 2

Host: Portugal Slogan: “All Aboard!” Participants: 43 Voting method: 12-point system (50/50 system - separated) Format: 2 Semi-Finals / Grand Final = the top 10 of semi 1 & 2 + the Big 5 + host

General Overview:

The opening sequence of SF2 is exactly the same as SF1. And once again, the show segues immediately into the host introductions without any opening performances.

The hosting team continues to provide comedic dialogue, with tonight's best joke being the “Ola” one.

The interval starts with part 2 of the ESC Encyclopedia. Then the 4 hosts dance to a medley of iconic Eurovision songs, including a “Making Your Mind Up” role reversal, and Filomena reluctantly reenacting the “Euphoria” choreo (that one was funny). Next, there's a blooper reel from filming the postcards, which is cute. Then it's part 2 of the “David Attenburger” skit (ugh). And finally, there's a short documentary explaining how Portugal's 1974 entry sparked political change in their country. I liked that they shared this piece of their history with the world.

As for the results... they're pretty chaotic here. There was very little consensus between the juries and the public. The overall winner of SF2 is Norway, despite placing 2nd with the juries and 3rd in the televote. Instead, the jury winner is Sweden and the televote champion is Denmark, which the juries didn't even rank in their top 10 (WTF?!) Besides Denmark, the public also saved Serbia and Hungary. Which means THREE of the “jury qualifiers” didn't make it. Those would be Romania, Latvia, and Malta. Not only that, Malta was DEAD LAST in the televote. Below Georgia. On the flip side, the juries saved the Netherlands at the expense of Poland.

Additionally; Azerbaijan, Romania and Russia all NQ for the first time. Which means only Ukraine and Australia (for now) remain with perfect qualification records. This is a good thing for the integrity of the contest. No country should be able to get away with sending literally anything and still qualify.

✓ Norway: Alexander Rybak - That's How You Write a Song “Fairytale” gave me goosebumps... “That's How...” is just annoying and cringe. It's basically a sequel to “Love Love Peace Peace” (since Rybak made a cameo in that), but with sincere writing instructions this time. Here, he suggests jotting your ideas down to get started. I mean, that is the hardest part. But the lyrics are too cliché to be useful: Find your rhythm! Enjoy the small things! Find your mission! Work your magic! Not to mention his 2-step guide of “Believe in it” and “Just roll with it”, which aren't really steps. It's a thin concept. So thin that the song throws in a scatting break, an obligatory violin solo, and 6 choruses to fill time. The instrumental is beyond irritating too, ESPECIALLY the recurring 'da-da-da; da-da-da; da-da-da-da-DAH!' riffs and guitar scrambles. The song begins with a brief violin. Then the guitar and drums take over, creating a funky strutting rhythm. The “get big” line also has a lunging effect. Next, the “step 1” part switches to a stop/start motor. The scatting part reduces to just claps, leading to kicking drums. The violin solo adds motor bursts for dramatic effect. The beat pauses again after the violin. And the beat intensifies towards the end. Moreover, Rybak comes off smarmy on stage. He's trying TOO hard to be a charismatic goofball. The air violin / drums / etc (with the chalky animations) are cringe too. The animated objects on screen are unnecessary in general. This is the kind of song I don't want stuck in my head. It's too jaunty and kinda disjointed?

× Romania: The Humans - Goodbye Romania's first NQ, and they've been struggling ever since, aside from WRS. Maybe “Goodbye” was too serious. In the verses, the narrator is ready to take their own life. They tried to overcome it. They kept their battles a secret. While the chorus is the voice of someone trying to stop them. Singer Cristina sounds sincere, and the song has good intentions. But this friend lacks understanding or empathy. The wording of “Why can't you...” and “...by the way is all for free” sounds frustrated, and assumes it's an easy choice to be happy, when it's not. The melody isn't that catchy either – the chorus is too wordy and the verses are too stationary. The latter uses depressive short phrases and long pauses. The staging is confusingly abstract too. There's several mannequins in white masks to represent identity loss. The performance begins with the cellist removing her mask and walking away. Then the two guitarists (with their masks on backwards) switch potions around Cristina. They touch her, they push her backwards, they put her in the middle of a guitar jam. Then she wanders around the mannequins. Then they all reach out to the cellist. The instrumental channels '90s soft rock, but it isn't anything special. The verses are a generic piano ballad, with a cello appearing midway. The chorus is very different. It kicks off with a big vocal note and a pent-up, Coldplay-like release of rock guitars (I like this part). And it waits a moment before the chorus lyrics start.

✓ Serbia: Sanja Ilić & Balkanika - Nova deca RIP Sanja. “Nova deca” is missing something though. The intro lasts nearly a minute! It begins with a traditional flute and a thump, followed by mystical, otherworldly folk chanting that carries across the land. I love the windy, stuck-in-the-moment, mountaintop atmosphere of it. But the syllables are so stretched out. Eventually, the “tribal” drums arrive to power the rest of the song. The chorus, which swoops in during this transition, switches to a male vocalist, making the contrast apparent. The drums patter in the first chorus, with a bit of flute. Then the drums speed up in the second verse, which also inserts some unexpected 2011 blunt dance synths. This allows the second chorus to glide. Later, the bridge goes into a “na na ney” bit with rubbery drums, leading to a brief beat pause. However, I find the chorus melody underwhelming. And I get sick of the persistent chanting by the end. Lyrically, “Nova deca” is about how “new children create a better world with us”. The verses ask for rest, mention regret, and wish to create a better world for the kids. While the chorus describes the effect this person has on the narrator. The stage direction is professional too, with the arm movements in the intro, the bald guy hiding behind the women, the lead singers reaching in opposite directions, the arms across the chest gesture, and the group separating upon the second chorus. There's just something about their positioning on stage.

× San Marino: Jessika feat. Jenifer Brening - Who We Are This just sounds like a first draft. Jessika's message seems sincere, but the production is dated, the lyrics are generic, the mini robots are confusing, and the rap verse is corny. “UH, LISTEN UP, LISTEN UP, IT'S ME JENNY B!”; “If they dissin' you on Twitter / Don't get sad, don't be bitter!” 💀 That rap verse comes out of nowhere too. “Who We Are” is a defiant, loving yourself empowerment anthem to stand up to the bullies. Jessika mentions a bullied, lonely childhood. No one told her to be proud of her differences. So she put on a show. But now she stands tall. She uses the “we” pronoun to relate to the listener. But that “We... are who we are.... and who we are... is who we wanna be!” lyric is so empty. And the chorus is mostly cliches. The “AND WE'LL BE RISING WHEN WE FALL” hook is effective though. Musically, the song opens with downpouring dull taps. Then the first verse tries to be quirky, with air slices and glitchy echoing pops, plus broken metal ticks midway. While the pre-chorus switches to heavy strings. But the chorus feels underdeveloped. It goes for a suspended effect and a fist-raising vibe, but it's just generic pop-rock. Next, the bridge quiets to a piano. And Jenny B ad libs in the back half. On stage, there's 4 dancing robots. One of them holds a card saying “sometimes”, which later flips to “size doesn't matter”, while giving two middle fingers. Jessika is also confronted by two muscly dancers at the start (to represent the bullies?) Jessika's vocals aren't the best either.

✓ Denmark: Rasmussen - Higher Ground I can see how this stood out. “Higher Ground” is inspired by Denmark's Viking history. The stage involves 5 bearded men standing next to two large ship sails, with a blowing snow effect during the key change. And a fun marching sequence during the Icelandic chant. All that's missing is the helmets. The lyrics initially romanticize this era of leaving home to conquer distant shores. But the “Yet victory won't prevail” line shatters the fantasy. Vikings were violent. The message is that violence is not the answer (ie. take the “higher ground”). The group even waves a white flag of surrender at the end. But the song isn't taken too seriously either. The only issue I have is the low vocals. The pop chorus is catchy though. The harmonies really elevate it. They even throw in some “OH OH OH”s for good measure. Musically, the song opens with a sawing, buzzing, distortion warning. Then the verse uses this ominous ghostly background, paired with a slithering synth, then some strings. Next, the forceful stomping drums (+ “HA HA”) announce the crew's arrival during the chorus. That chorus has an adventurous sailing against the waves vibe. The stomps are weaker in the second verse then disappear. Then the beat stops before key change. And the final chorus adds victory horns. I also like the synth in the Icelandic chant. Otherwise, the way the group stands together is effective. Same with their arm gestures, the marching, and Rasmussen entering in a hazy filter.

× Russia: Julia Samoylova - I Won't Break #StandWithUkraine

Russia gives Julia a second chance after being DQ'ed in 2017... with a song destined to NQ. Was this a ploy to play the victim? My low ranking has nothing to do with the politics though... “I Won't Break” is just a bland generic ballad and Julia's vocals aren't that good. The poor thing sounds like she started learning English a week ago. She even forgets to sing at one point. And why are her eyes closed so much? The instrumental is so anonymous and indistinct as well. It kinda reminds me of Sia's “Chandelier”. The song starts with some sparse, “at peace” piano notes. Then the bucket ticking comes in. The verses have slight ice synths too. The chorus, meanwhile, sees the percussion explode, as the backing shouts “I WON'T BREA-A-A-A-AK”. But when I hear the chorus all I think is “...that's it?”. The hook and explosive percussion are so basic and “blah”. The “even in the darkness...” bit is okay though. The final chorus then adds a siren-y transition. The lyrics are a cliche word salad (“when it comes to emotions/from the deepest of oceans”!) The song is about how Julia will be emotionally strong from now on. Her sandcastle turned to stone. Her broken wings are soaring with kings and queens... sure. The staging is similar to Estonia, with some swirling colours on this volcano structure Julia sits on. The two dancers are engaging though. I like their moves on the walkway. “Flame Is Burning” was better but not by much.

✓ Moldova: DoReDoS - My Lucky Day Such inventive and brilliant staging! It's like a comedic skit. The trio each has a lookalike – in matching blue, yellow or red – standing behind a wall of split doors that are continuously opened and closed. There's cartoon-like door chases; an illusion of yellow girl being split in 3; the rear feet and front feet dancing together; the 3 heads poking above the wall; and legs walking vertically. Then at the end, the lookalikes join the others out front. The coordination is impressive. “My Lucky Day” is a love triangle involving secrets, temptation, and relationship uncertainty. But with a lighthearted tone. It's also ambiguous who's “number 1” or “number 2”. And I assume “make some music” = sex. Blue guy sings verse 1, while yellow girl and red guy cheat behind him. Then the men switch roles for verse 2. Yellow girl also jumps in for the pre-chorus, boosting the “something tells me...” hook. The “NUMBER ONE” bit sticks out too. The song itself seems less popular, but it's catchy, and the folksy horns add a Moldovan party flair. The chorus is kinda monotonous though. The song kicks off with a “heyyyy-YA!” Then a flurry of horns (with metal drums) appears before each verse/outro. The verses have a bouncy, horn hopping rhythm that never touches the ground (+ a brief fiddle). There's a launching sound before the chorus. Then the chorus adds a rattling drum. I dislike the “la da di dum da da” ending though. It's a kitschy song, but their physical acting is so funny. I prefer this to “Hey Mamma”.

✓ Netherlands: Waylon - Outlaw in 'Em Waylon of the Common Linnets returns as a solo artist. He brings another country song, but a wild one compared to the cathartic “Calm After the Storm”. The chorus is quite annoying though. I also hate the “OW!” ending. The backing dancers/musicians are overly energetic too. It looks like they're Kung-Fu Fighting at one point? They also bang their heads together with one foot on Waylon's platform. They toss their guitars. And they run and do flips at the end. The song's message is that we all have it in us to fight back. The chorus uses specific Wild West imagery - chrome pieces, blacked out denim, scarred up knuckles, bloody boots, rattlesnake venom. Plus Stone Cold and Mick Jagger references later on. It makes me think of a saloon brawl (the “lock and load” line implies pistols). The lyrics also call whisky a miracle drink. Musically, the song is driven by a country electric guitar and a foot-stomping drum beat. There's also a zigzagging guitar riff before each verse. And the guitar “locks and loads” after that lyric. The chorus is more guitar-heavy compared to the verses. The first chorus also stops the music on the last line. And the last chorus “drops down” at first. The song sounds like it's ready to get up and fight. There's an eagerness to it. But “Outlaw in 'Em” doesn't excite me much. It's not my preferred genre. I'm not that into Waylon's voice. And the song feels like a parody? Idk.

✓ Australia: Jessica Mauboy - We Got Love Australia's first time missing the top 10. Jessica brings passion and vocals to this, but the song is basic and the stage is empty. There's some pyro in the finale, but that's it. She mostly twirls her arm, shakes her hips, and points. It's lazy staging. And it's awkward when she gets the audience to sing along. This is the third Aussie entry in a row produced by DNA Songs. Their productions are kinda generic, BUT I'm a sucker for dramatic percussion. I also like the lingering “why...”s and “I know...”s. The song starts with a humming bass-line. Then, suddenly, a thunder-striking drum awakens the arena. Now the verses follow a piano note –> rattle shake pattern (with taps). There's another thunder strike. Then the percussion-heavy chorus arrives – with euphoric keyboard, surface-echoing strikes, and tambourine shakes - and heightens midway. Verse 2 adds a clappy beat midway. There's a “tribal” drum breakdown for the bridge. And the beat pauses before the last chorus. The verse lyrics are hesitant incomplete thoughts (until the 2nd half of verse 2). Jessica asks why we keep falling into destructive mindsets: the need to be somebody else, the “won't make a difference” attitude, the fighting over material trivial things. She pleads to not give up despite feeling powerless. Why? “Cuz we got love”! That's an unoriginal message for Eurovision. Still, the percussion and vocals give a determined / persistent vibe. Also of note: Jessica was an interval act in 2014 and the runner-up of Australian Idol 2006.

× Georgia: Ethno-Jazz Band Iriao - For You The last placed entry of SF2. Unsurprising, since “For You” is EXCRUIATINGLY boring. Yeah, this classical, old fashioned music/vocal style doesn't appeal to me anyways. But the melody is so slow and forgettable. The song has no energy. And the vocals are like listening to a dishwasher or something. It's white noise. The song makes me feel nothing. That fire rain finale is so undeserved. There's no chorus either. Instead, the song intensifies and releases tension a couple times, but in a tedious way? It takes so long to get there too. “For You” starts as a serene piano ballad. Then it adds in sparse metal pan ticks, followed by a rattling sound. These instrumental quirks are too subtle though. The strings come next. Then the vocals grow until the tension snaps off. After that, the song quiets to a heartbeat thump. Then it builds again into this “tribal” drum + vocal chanting bit (which is the only listenable part). Meanwhile, the 3 singers use harmonizing tricks. The lyrical message is about putting others ahead of yourself (“you only own what you share”). The band wishes for the snow to melt to warm up a cold person. They mention finding joy in other people's happiness. And advise understanding, sharing, selflessness, kindness. I assume this is their definition of love.

× Poland: Gromee feat. Lukas Meijer - Light Me Up This begins an NQ streak for Poland lasting until “River”. I blame Gromee's snake/wavy hands during the “drop”. It looks silly. And was that motion blur necessary? The song is basically a generic 2012 David Guetta track. But it has an uplifting vibe and I like the squawky distortion “drop”. I just wish the “LIGHT ME UP, LIGHT ME UP, MY BABY” refrain and the “OH OH OH OH” build-up weren't so generic-sounding. The chorus lyrics don't say a whole lot. But it's catchy! Lukas's voice conveys innocent anticipation as well. The first verse describes his reactions after asking someone out – he feels weak, he can't breathe, the decision haunts him. While the second verse says “they” told him to leave (security? parents? friends?) He then urges this person to “light me up” (ie. ignite his full feelings). The song captures Lukas's “in the moment” thoughts. He put himself out there, now he's waiting for a response. I don't think he's pushy, just hopeful. Musically, the first verse is easygoing, with light guitar and keyboards. The chorus is a noticeable contrast to this – it increases the tempo via excited piano EDM, followed by a beat acceleration towards the “drop”. The second verse then adds bass-y dance synths. And the second chorus starts with an acoustic guitar instead. Both verses end with feedback too. There's also pyro during the “drops”. And Lukas runs to the audience at the end to hype them with “JUMP!” and “1, 2, 3, 4”.

× Malta: Christabelle - Taboo 5th with the juries… last with the public. Maybe “Taboo” had too much going on? The song sounds mechanical. Plus, the dubstep breakdown is dated, the lyrics use weird phrasing, and the chorus hook feels incomplete. Still, the dubstep adds a darker unhinged moment. And the chorus is catchy, with the “LET OUR GUARDS DOWN” shout and the “animals animals” stutter. In the song, Christabelle declares “it's time to break the taboo” on talking about mental health. If we keep it bottled up, we'll become destructive animals or criminals. She mentions enjoying the silence, feeling cold at home, insomnia, crippling demons, finding comfort in misery, and how our struggles seem foreign to others. The production is dark and complex. It opens with a metal screech. Then a throbbing bass-line drives the verse, with vocal squeals, and a clacking heartbeat drum midway. The first chorus retreats to radiating bass, followed by snaps and a clappy build-up. But the song doesn't take off just yet. The second verse adds firm drums and cold sounds, followed by metal tick shivers. Then the clappy build-up resumes, there's a beat acceleration, a glitchy rip, and finally a skating synth peak. The deranged dubstep breakdown follows this. Then the song rests, there's a glitchy vomit, and the skating synth returns. The stage is futuristic. It involves 4 LED pillars, where Christabelle stands in the middle at first. Then during the dubstep, there's a Sia video dancer. There's also strobe lights, pyro, anatomical heart and globe animations, and a screen shatter effect.

✓ Hungary: AWS - Viszlát nyár RIP Örs. “Viszlát nyár” is the kind of song you'll either love or hate. It's not often we a see SUCH a hard rock song in Eurovision. I can appreciate that on some level. AWS comes across as a genuine rock band and Örs has good stage presence. He throws raw emotion in this performance. But I just find screamo unpleasant. I can't even get through the last minute of this. The song jumps into the heavy metal electric guitars and machine-gun drums immediately. That intro makes a bold first impression. While the verses/bridge offer a respite from the song's high-adrenaline energy. Those verses/bridge sound like an empty tunnel or cave. The first one also includes echoing snowy footsteps, as more neutral drums come in midway. The heavy metal instruments then return for the chorus, where Örs switches to screaming and the stage flames go crazy. He also tears his throat apart from the end of the 2nd chorus onward. And the bridge exits the tunnel/cave via an extremely aggressive guitar, followed by a guitar respite moment and a key change. The lyrics are about Örs's dead father. I believe the verses are from the father's perspective – he's being brutally honest, he has to leave, and he says he'll live on in his son's memory if the son wishes. While the chorus is an angry FU. The dad wasn't there, it's too late now, and Örs wants back what the dad stole. The song addresses the ugly feelings of mourning a family member you had a bad relationship with.

× Latvia: Laura Rizzotto - Funny Girl Belgium/Croatia/Latvia are the lounge music NQ trio of 2018. I can see how “Funny Girl” didn't grab the public's attention. The song's pacing is a little slow. But it captures the feeling of embarrassment well. Laura made her crush laugh. She caught feelings. She felt comfortable being vulnerable. But then she saw them with another girl. Now Laura is the butt of the joke. She was “just” the funny girl and meant nothing more. The first verse keeps asking “ain't it funny”, while the second wonders if they even notice her reaction, since she's kept her feelings secret; implying this song is her confession. The bridge is pure desperation, where Laura promises she's the perfect mate. I like how the chorus has this heart-sinking feeling. This is when reality hits Laura (“you're looking at her... she's looking at you...”) Most of the song is driven by these spread-out, splashing percussion clacks. The first verse has a screech midway, followed by slicing bass thumps. The pre-chorus further adds string plucks. Meanwhile, the chorus adds cello roars between the clacks, along with muffled bits. The second verse adds metal tick rolls to the clacks and bass thumps. The bridge doesn't deviate much, but adds a light cymbal. On stage, Laura performs alone in a red dress set against red lighting, with jerky camera zooms and a neck snap. Those red lights intensify a lot. Laura has great stage presence too. She feels the song through her body movements.

✓ Sweden: Benjamin Ingrosso - Dance You Off The public rejected this jury fave! I have no issues with the song– it's catchy and breezy. My issue is Benjamin's smarmy performance. He is way too eager to please. His attempts at being charming and flirtatious do not work. The head nods, the smiles, the “HUH”s... just UGH! I like the stage design though. It involves flashing red and white (and later blue) horizontal bars of light behind Benjamin, set against a pitch black background. It creates the illusion of not being in the arena (until the contraption is shown). It's as if headlights and taillights are speeding past the city street, as Benjamin dances outside the club. His choreo seems over-rehearsed though: he gyrates his hips, motions with his arm, opens his legs, twirls and walks across. He also sounds like a dick in the lyrics. The song is simply about dancing to get over someone. Benjamin doesn't care if she disapproves or still wants him (“don't you dare wait up”!) While the second verse claims she was the problem. Still, the “dan-dan-dance you off” stutter is memorable. The “pressure” and “treasure” echoes are effective, as is the “And I” continuation. And the production is professional. It has a chill nighttime vibe. The song opens with relaxed boops, then snaps. While the chorus brings in the funky bass-line, with some clasps, and it heightens midway. The second verse then waits a little to bring back the bass and clasps. And the bridge is very Daft Punk. The beat also stops before each chorus (on the “forget ya” echo).

The Melfest 2018 runner-up, Felix Sandman's “Every Single Day”, would've been a better winner. My other faves that year were “For You”, “Shuffla” and “Last Breath”. Also of note: John Lundvik makes the final one year before his eventual win, just like Benjamin and Robin B just did.

× Montenegro: Vanja Radovanović - Inje Montenegro tries a Balkan Ballad again, since that's all they ever qualified with. But unlike “Moj svijet” and “Adio”, this one is just boring and forgettable. I tried to recall the melody and “Adio” played in my head instead 💀. The instrumental is way too serious on “Inje”. It intensifies as it progresses. But it's missing the smooth ambience and epic payoff of the Željko Joksimović entries. It needs more traditional instruments too. The song opens with a piano tickle and an ominous thud. Then the first stanza sticks to the piano. The hand drums enter next. Then the strings grow, the cymbals crash and there's a back-and-forth pounding intense harmony thing on “DO-OO-SHOO-OO-BEEEE-YAAAA”. The tension breaks, the song quiets down. Then it builds back up with strings and a snare drum, leading to sawing strings and a sneering “HA-AH-AH-AH” from the backing. Then the drums push the final chorus, the church bells ring, and the song ends with a bang. It's tiring. The title translates to “Frost”, where Vanja's relationship has frozen over. His lover's heart is a “dying ember”. It's frozen in summer when it should be warm. He trembles. The quilt can't warm him up. The days drag by. He secretly wants them back. He calls the heart a “treasured pet” (sure?) On stage, Vanja and the 4 backing singers look serious, but the staging isn't that memorable either.

✓ Slovenia: Lea Sirk - Hvala, ne! I love this quirky trap beat! The fake power failure was a really bad idea though. Especially when it happens again in the final, so you know it's fake. It's just so awkward and stops the song's momentum. But it only lasts a few seconds. “Hvala, ne!” is full of badass attitude regardless. The intro is like an accelerating ping pong ball striking a table that comes into focus; along with this strange machine noise. Then the trap beat skips along in the verses, with bass vibrations. The beat stops in the chorus, which uses a humming synth instead. Then the “Hvala, ne!” + “OH OH OH OH” “drop” returns the trap beat. While the second verse brings back the strange machine noises. The second chorus and bridge then add a beat acceleration. The power cut happens where the second “drop” is supposed to be. And the bridge is synth-ier and has a nice build-up. I believe the song is about the beauty product industry? Lea doesn't want any part of it. Her “new look” is smiles and freedom. The lyrics mention “virtual tricks”, and advise against believing offers and selling one's soul. Lea also refuses to sell-out (“true art cannot have a price tag”). But not in a pretentious way, she has fun with the song. The title translates to “No Thanks!” and Lea delivers it in a defiant way. She also asserts her name in first line. The choreo is fierce too. I like when they all lean together. And the arm thing during the intro. There's lots of flashing lights too. And Lea has good stage presence.

✓ Ukraine: Mélovin - Under the Ladder It's good, but the “OH OH OH OH OH… YEAH” hook doesn't quite do it for me. And this song relies heavily on those “OH OH OH”s. The staging is memorable though. It involves Mélovin dressed as a vampire (including eye contacts). During the opening verse, the camera shows him laying down inside a partially boarded-up coffin in red light. Then a lever slowly, creepily pushes him upright. That coffin also happens to be a grand piano, which he plays later on. At the end, the staircase goes up in flames, with more flames in the background. That image + the closing piano notes makes this the perfect semi-final closer. The lyrics are vague (“Curtains down, I'm laughing at the trial”), but “Under the Ladder” is about risking failure and facing fears to reach success. The title alludes to the famous superstition. It's all about willpower. It won't get any better! It's now or never! The decision has got to be made! The chorus captures this feeling of urgency, pressure and anxiety – it's so frantic with the slapping, running drum beat. I also like the eerie chorus transition. The song opens with a faint siren and a thump. Then the first verse uses minimal ominous sounds. The energetic chorus creates a noticeable contrast to this. While the second verse, after waiting a second, adds a smaller running beat (via a buzzy transition). The second chorus finishes on a piano riff. Then the song rests. The final chorus jumps back into it. And the piano finale is like Mélovin jumping out of his seat.

My Ranking: 01. Slovenia: Lea Sirk - Hvala, ne! ✓ 02. Latvia: Laura Rizzotto - Funny Girl 03. Moldova: DoReDoS - My Lucky Day ✓ 04. Denmark: Rasmussen - Higher Ground ✓ 05. Malta: Christabelle - Taboo 06. Ukraine: Mélovin - Under the Ladder ✓ 07. Poland: Gromee feat. Lukas Meijer - Light Me Up 08. Australia: Jessica Mauboy - We Got Love ✓ 09. Sweden: Benjamin Ingrosso - Dance You Off ✓ 10. Serbia: Sanja Ilić & Balkanika - Nova deca ✓

11. San Marino: Jessika feat. Jenifer Brening - Who We Are 12. Montenegro: Vanja Radovanović - Inje 13. Netherlands: Waylon - Outlaw in 'Em ✓ 14. Romania: The Humans - Goodbye 15. Russia: Julia Samoylova - I Won't Break 16. Hungary: AWS - Viszlát nyár ✓ 17. Norway: Alexander Rybak - That's How You Write a Song ✓ 18. Georgia: Ethno-Jazz Band Iriao - For You

[yanderenightmare]

i want yandere bully bakugou but like redemption kinda? like, after becoming a pro hero he tries asking darling out and treats her nicely and stuff, trying to make up for being a bully, but still yandere and kinda toxic???

BNHA ! FIC

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: yandere, NSFW, dubcon, bullying, manipulation WC: 3.5k

GIRLFRIEND

Normally, it would be strange to ask yourself why you’re someone’s girlfriend. But in your case, given who your boyfriend is, it would be weird not to doubt why. 

Part of the answer is that you wouldn’t know how to tell him no. 

But… more the question is,

why would he even ask you in the first place?

Try as you might, you couldn’t remember Kachan ever being interested in you in that way. Between calling you a quirkless flat-chested snot-nosed loser extra and telling you how your freckles made you look like you’d been rolling around in shit, he’d not once made you feel as though he was attracted to you in any way.

It had been nearly five years since your high school graduation. The last time you’d seen him. Other than on the news or posters on every corner of the city. Where in that time, he’d gone and made himself a renowned pro-hero. While you… 

Well… you’d made your own valid achievements. Though… not nearly amounting to anything as impressive as him.

Which was one of the big reasons why you felt so out of your depth. But not the only reason. And certainly not the main one.

You weren’t convinced it was Kachan when he’d first approached you. Something between meeting a celebrity and a ghost and some other thing you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something that somewhat reminded you of the feeling of visiting someone in prison, you bet.

Granted, he, no doubt, still looked like Kachan. Though older, stronger, and taller now, he was still that ash-blonde red-eyed boy you used to know. 

It was still Kachan. With his signature straightforward thoroughness and, though more refined and with some resemblance of calm now, that same old brashness of his lurking beneath the trained attitude. It didn’t go unnoticed by you, nor did how his eyes demanded your attention, despite your wish to act like you didn’t recognize him.

You had expected him to growl at you, to laugh and mock you for working at a café, no mind to you being the assistant manager, as you were sure such a feat had no sway with someone as important as him. You’d in the least, if not the former, believed him to ignore you with a sneer. But, though he smirked, it wasn’t a smirk you were any used to. In fact, you’d actually go so far as to call it a smile.

He was still Kachan, but he'd become strange. A stranger, actually. A strange stranger who asked you out. Which is what made him so very strange a stranger to begin with. 

But not entirely a stranger as you were still, despite having grown up, a little afraid of what he’d do if you turned him down.

You thought he was joking at first. Playing his same old cruel schoolyard pranks despite being a full-grown man, not to mention one of the highest-ranking pro heroes in japan. But, for a mere joke, he sure seemed serious. Holding up the coffee line in wait for your answer, with fans recognizing him and looking at you as though you were insane for not answering and even more hardcore fans looking at him as though he was insane for asking you.

At least a dozen were filming. And the cardboard coffee cup ached more and more in your palm the longer you waited.

You didn’t really have a choice. 

Did you?

Your first date was a lot more expensive a taste than what you were used to. In fact, you realized you weren’t really used to being pampered at all. 

You felt underdressed even in the leather seats of his car and even more when the gold lighting of the restaurant dawned on you. 

Your breath thinned as you found yourself stared at by what felt like absolutely everyone as the two of you were led to your table overlooking the city.

Kachan noticed your flighty gaze and how you shared fluttering looks with the other people surrounding you and the marble floor, though never with him.

“You can’t blame them.” He said. And your doe-eyes finally returned his stare with an adorably puzzled look of your own. “Your own fault for looking like that.”

You paused, first instincts telling you how it in no way was a compliment, before realizing you were being silly before further deciding how it didn’t really matter. “It’s you they’re staring at. They’re just wondering who I am to be here with you.” You dismissed shyly, chewing the inside of your cheek. “And frankly, Kachan… so am I.”

He smiled, and you, without knowing how else you should respond, stilled in suspense until potentially prompted to move.

You were nervous enough around him from before without him acting so strangely, without him giving you those unfamiliar yet somewhat pleasant smiles you hadn’t even seen him use when addressing his fans on TV.

You would even go so far as to say he seemed to be admiring you. Or… you wouldn’t really know what to call it. 

A blush of drunkenness rouged his cheeks and sugared his eyes after the third glass of wine, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d noticed the same had happened to you.

You were a cute drunk, he thought. While a small quirk played in the corner of his lips on account of the heavy hoods pulled on over your eyes, and how your lips struggled to keep close and instead formed a pout so kissable, he was struggling not to reach over and take the offer.

But, not wanting to scare you away, he exercised restraint. On your behalf, because fuck knows you wouldn’t have done or said anything to stop him. He can see it on you even now. You haven’t got it in you. You never have. And you probably never will.

He asked you about your things. Knowing how you’ve heard about him from the news and every other channel and platform. Acting like your answers somewhat surprised him even though he’s been keeping close tabs on you as the media has on him. Probably even more so.

You’d put on a dress for him. It was nothing special compared to what he’d seen others wear at hero galas, but the thought alone was sweeter and more intoxicating than the wine in his glass. 

To think, he could just lift the frill and see you. Touch you. Feel you. He probably would have if he were still your bully, but over the expanse of his hero training, he’d realized he wasn’t any such silly thing as your enemy.

No… Pro-Hero Dynamight may have his admirers and his foes, but as for the man behind the mask.

Bakugou Katsuki,

is your number-one fan.

And he wasn’t embarrassed by it anymore. He wanted you to know it, wanted to smother you with it. He loved you. He wanted you. He needed you.

And he’d make sure no one else would dare even think about taking you from him. 

And he’d make sure the thought wouldn’t dare cross your mind either.

He announced your relationship in interviews, had it written on all his platforms, and told every single one of his pining fans. It hadn’t even been a week since you met, and he’d already claimed you before the world, and you…

Well, you didn’t really know what the fuck you were doing.

You’d been ambushed and stormed into surrender before you even knew what was happening. All that was left now was to try and… well… make peace with it. 

Kachan was like a new person. You were unsure whether that was a fact or just you trying to convince yourself you don’t feel his old self in how he brazenly puts his hands on you. Having you swallow your own shaky breaths as he wraps his heavy, hefty, muscled arms around your much smaller body.

Or how you fear being bitten, swallowing your heart, when he leans down to kiss you.

Even now, a week into your relationship, you’re still on edge. Awkwardly regarding yourself in his bathroom mirror. The one-week anniversary present he’d gotten for you lying open on the glass counter. 

Pretty shades of chiffon were still left inside the expensive box as you’d taken its primary contents and layered your naked self with them.

Dewdrops from your shower disturbed your reflection. Though within the streaks you’d made with your hand, anyone could see how clearly uncomfortable you were. Dressed in the new set of clothes he’d gotten you. 

Or… 

Clothes was a generous term for it as it was nothing more than silky lingerie. 

Rich red lined your skin in sexy floral patterns as the sheer lace perfectly caressed your curves in expensive designer you could never afford and transparent in a way you would never dare buy for yourself even if you could.

And along with the looming disorienting surreal understanding that your childhood bully was no doubt expecting to fuck you tonight, your chest felt tight, and your head was so horridly hot, reeling with memories, flashes in the reflection of the mirror staring back at you. Times you’d cry your eyes out for hours looking at yourself because the boy on the opposite side of the door had you convinced you were the ugliest thing in the entire world.

The dinner you’d shared together earlier must have made you sick since you could taste blood on your tongue, or perhaps it was just the hopeless situation. Nevertheless, you feared that if you left the safety of the bathroom now, you might just vomit from the fever. Or faint-

“You pass out in there?” Came a loud knock on the door, shaking you from your thoughts and reminding you to breathe again. “Come on out, I wanna see you. I don’t care if it’s a little tight.” He ordered, in a voice similar to the schoolyard punk that sometimes still haunts your dreams. Though now belonged to the man he’d grown into, the one waiting for you on his bed just behind the door.

You bit your lip, brows crinkling, a small sigh leaving you in the pitiful form of a whimper before you swallowed a mixture of pride and anxiety. Ripping your gaze from yourself, you made to unlock the door and reveal yourself.

You couldn’t look at him, but looking down at yourself was equally embarrassing, where you stood nearly naked in the nippy air of his bedroom while he, still fully dressed with suit and tie, sat patiently or impatiently waiting for you to come closer.

“Fuck-” He groaned, his tongue gracing the top row of his teeth as his eyes drank in the pretty sight of your perfect body all dressed up for him. 

You were too pretty to be this shy. But then again, that was probably his fault. 

“Come ‘ere.” He urged, wringing his blazer off and loosening his tie before throwing it to the single chair placed in the corner of the room, keenly watching as you took your small cautious steps until you were just within reach, where his hands hungrily pounced for you. 

His hot course fingers touched your skin with greed. Grabbing into your soft flesh, he pulled you to him. Having no reservations about what and how he touched, as his entire hand squeezed your ass like you were playdough.

“Sit.” He ordered while tugging you down on his lap. His thick arm wrapped around your waist as you sat on him like Santa. Fingering the straps of lace at your hip, he stared at your cute nipples through the see-through lace of your bra.

He popped open the first few buttons to his dark burgundy shirt, finding himself getting hotter, and you had to bite your lip at how tight the smooth silk of it was around his muscles and how warm he was against your naked skin. 

He hugged you closer against his chest, and your breathing thinned again into a tiny gasp, making him show teeth. “So skittish-” He chuckled, his voice softly amused while kneading your thigh in his toasty and textured palm. “You still afraid I'm gonna push you around like back in middle school?” He asked with a grin, his hot breath fanning against your neck while his lips ghosted the peachfuzz of your cheek.

You fidgeted with your hands on your lap, squeezing your thighs tighter together. Eyes bashfully staring down at the large bruise-knuckled paw petting your knee. Scars littered it like a cutting board.

“Come on…” He drawled as his hand lifted, leaving your thigh cold in its absence, where he made to handle your chin and cheek for you to look at him. “I ain't that shitty anymore, am I?”

You wiggled a bit on account of his raw ruby-red eyes connecting with your shy gaze. Ears on fire since teased by the smooth tone his voice had slipped into, surprised by how it slithered around your pounding heart and pooled in your gut and tickled your cunt where you sat on the bump on his slacks that only hardened the more you squirmed.

“No need to be scared, princess. I don’t bite like I used to. I promise~” He blew against your lips. “I've matured.”

The nickname princess sounded so similar to something else he used to call you. The memory of it taking an equal toll on your body as his touches, further making you shiver on goosebumps while his hand dipped from caressing your face to stroking the soft skin of your neck. Slipping between the valley of your breasts until he settled for cupping one of the two in his hand. Playing with the lace while teasing the visible nipple beneath, smiling once it perked beneath his fingertips.

“You've matured too, huh?” He added, his lips at your ear, ticklish and warm, making your head drum, a tiny squeak leaving you once he flicked your earlobe with his tongue. “You used to look like a little boy before.” He laughed, and you bounced and swallowed thickly as his hand dropped down to your lap again. This time close to your panty, where your thigh was fattest and most sensitive.

The other hand remained at your hip and pulled you even tighter against him while the former stroked the plush chunk of flesh, visibly getting drunk on your softness where his breath had become rugged with restraint.

“I mean, I didn't even think of you as a girl before you started wearing those cute little school skirts.” He reminisced. 

Elementary school…

When new uniforms separated boys from girls and you from him. 

“You fucked us up with that, y'know?” He scolded, giving you a harder squeeze. “You were one of the guys, and then, boom-” He tsked. “Suddenly, such a tease.”

Your brows furled as your lips pursed into a pout, while your stomach started to fold in all types of uneasy ways by the even darker shift in his tone. 

“Too pretty to play in the mud.” He scoffed in a whisper, his nose bumping your temple as you bowed your head even lower, swallowing thickly while suppressing the familiar urge to cry and beg him to stop. Almost expecting him to bite you. “Too pretty for me.”

“Ow-” His hands pinched you just a bit too recklessly, and you popped up from your seat on his lap with a jolt and a wince. 

“Sorry.” He offered lazily, keeping his hold on you. 

Spreading his thighs, he pulled you between them. 

“It’s hard to control myself.” He excused, his hands lowering on your waist as he leveled his head with your belly before crouching forward to cuddle you with his cheek. “You're just so fucking perfect.” He mumbled while giving the pinch mark on your thigh a kiss, his stubble scratching the delicate skin found there.

His words made your head ache, splitting you between contradicting emotions for him, tormenting you to the point that tears pooled in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks, dripping onto his shirt.

“Don’t cry.” He murmured while his warm worn thick fingers snaked about in between your spread legs and dragged heavily up the thin fabric protecting your cunt.

And despite everything, you still moaned out, though a somewhat feeble whine. And he voiced in another rumbling tone soaked with lust he no longer could contain.

“Let me make it up to you.”

You were a second later thrown down on your back with a bounce on the bed, where he undid the intricacies of your lace-up in a matter of split-felt moments like the single beat of your galloping heart. 

“I know you don’t trust me.” He added amidst the heat of his actions. “But I love you, princess-” He urged while kneeling near the bed-end, throwing your thighs over his shoulders. “And I’m gonna prove it to you.”

No part of you was ready for him, but at the same time, all of you were too accepting. With the moan that spilled from your chest like overfilled honeycomb and how your hands stilled in surrender at the feel of his hot eager tongue meeting your cunt.

His spikey ashen hair tickled your thighs as the stubble on his chin and cheeks lightly scratched you with every word of worship his lips mouthed into your core. And your chest arched off the bed as you lost your mind to what you’d gotten yourself into.

Torn between fear of him and lust for him, wondering if you had any pride left in you whatsoever or if he’d finally tightened the chokehold and squeezed it free of any life.

His tongue focused on your clit as he raised a hand between you, filling you with one of his thick fingers. Smirking against your heat at the feel of you clenching on him.

He saw you grip the sheets in tiny fists and looked up to see you trying to hide your embarrassment in his pillows. Chuckling, he added another finger and listened to you whimper out a moan with an involuntary buck of your hips.

He began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt with his free hand, bottom to the top, wrestling it off with somewhat of a handicapped struggle. Growing impatient as he moved down to unzip himself, pulling down the restraints before tugging on his own needy arousal. With precum spilling in pearls from his head, the pent-up beast sprung with a surge against his abs as he jerked himself and continuously gorged on you. 

He dropped his pants and boxers entirely as he made to crawl on top of you, sloppy kisses laid in wet trails up your body while his fingers slipped from your cunt so both hands could grab into your soft thighs and spread them to each side of his torso until you felt the weight of his throbbing cock bob against your belly.

You looked down to see it blushed red and wet with arousal, swollen into a threat and pumped to attack you. He noticed your stare and how he made you squirm, prompting him to grab your chin and have you look up at him instead.

You were the tiniest thing beneath him. And under the shade of his dark red eyes, you had your heart in your throat as well as a never-ending thrum of whimpers.

“You ready for me, princess?” He asked with a kiss to your lips, smeared wet across your cheek to nip at your neck.

And though you were anything but certain, you still made to tell him what he wanted to hear. But, with his hot mouth softly biting all the weak spots on your throat, you could only hum in return. However, managing to give a slight nod while your hands lifted from the sheets. Caressing the warm toughness topping you, your gentle fingers slid over the toned muscles of his back, tangling themselves into the short ashen locks at his neck while your legs wrapped around his torso. 

All in an effort to tell him yes, as you were all but rendered speechless by the delicate way he handled you. 

You were as cute and timid with humility as always, he thought, like a breath of fresh air and clear blue skies after breaching the rubble and smoke of battle.

He cupped your breast in one hand, teasing your nipple between his thumb and index, and grabbed himself with the other. Rubbing his cockhead over your pearl and dipping in between your folds. 

He pushed inside, and you whined, tensing at the stretch, and he stopped as though worried. 

“You okay?” He asked, and your heart leaped while he messaged your hip in encouragement until you relaxed again before continuing.

He dug his hands into your thighs, spreading you wider as he bottomed out inside you. And your toes curled with your moan as you clenched around him, his teeth gritting at the tight fit while groaning right at your ear.

“Fuck-” He sighed, his lips ghosting your cheekbones as his eyes scanned your pretty face. Hugging onto him with your hands, with your legs pulling him closer. Moaning so sweetly, small little mews just for him.

He could never get enough of those sounds.

He was going to wait at least a month. He figured that would be enough time. Enough time to make all the right moves. He was going to date you, breed you, reunite you with his parents, reintroduce himself to yours, have you move in with him, and then endgame.

But with the ring box in the drawer right next to the bed, he thought he might as well…

There was no way you’d say no anyway. 

You’ve already let him get this far. 

There is just no way…

No way you’d dare. 

tip-jar: Kofi

[songforeddiemunson]

Homeward Bound for Christmas

Eddie Munson x Reader (College years AU)

Summary: You bring your college boyfriend to your childhood home to meet your mom for the Holidays

Drabble warnings: course language, smut, fluff, humor. Overall, this is a sweet, naughty little drabble.

Word Count: 1.5K

You were dying to bring Eddie home to meet your mother. He had put it off for ages, insisting that he wasn’t parent material, but you knew better. Your mom had been at Woodstock. She was still a hippie and was as progressive as one could get, and was accepting of all diversity and differences. In fact, she celebrated them. She wouldn’t care that he was an outcast, or grew up poor, or had long hair; all the things that had made Eddie feel ostracized at Hawkins High. She was responsible for some of the best parts of yourself, and you repeatedly tried to reassure Eddie of this before he finally relented.

“Fine, fine,” he gave in. “But I’m going to fuck you in your old bedroom.”

You sputtered on the coffee you had just sipped. “Eddie!” you said, laughing as you mopped the front of your shirt with a napkin.

“What?” Eddie replied, nonplussed. “Quid-pro-quo madam. If I’m going to have to be uncomfortable, you’re going to have to pay the ferryman.”

“You won’t be uncomfortable once you meet her, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” you sighed. “You’re going to love each other.”

Eddie shrugged. “I guess we’ll see about that.”

When you arrived at your mom’s house-- which was fully decked for the holidays with all manner of pretty, twinkling lights-- she opened the door and enfolded you into a hug before turning to your boyfriend. “You must be Eddie,” she said, and embraced him warmly. His expression was one of pleasant surprise; he wasn’t used to being accepted, and your eyes welled up to see it. Apart from his incredible Uncle Wayne, Eddie didn't have much in the way of parental figures in his life. Even though he never admitted it out loud, you suspected it had left a bit of a hole in his heart, and it made you sad. Perhaps your family could help repair it.

Before the night was over Eddie and your mom were in the kitchen, laughing wildly at each other’s jokes and dusted liberally with flour. They were baking Christmas cookies together. 

“Did Y/N ever tell you about the time she fell out of a tree and banged her face?” your mom started.

“Mom, no,” you groaned, and you covered your face in your hands.

Eddie threw his head back and laughed heartily. “You…you…banged your face?” he sputtered before dissolving into hysterics.

“Oh yes,” your mom continued. “It was right before prom too. You should have seen her. All black and blue. I believe I have pictures….”

“Mom! No pictures!” you yelled while Eddie jumped up and down, clapping and chanting, “get the pictures get the pictures get the pictures…”

Later, your mom handed Eddie a pillow and a clean blanket. “I’ve made up my son’s old room so you can sleep there. I may be a cool mom, but I draw the line at you sharing a bed.”

“Oh sure, thanks so much,” Eddie said, but his eyes flicked to you, and you returned his look with a shrug.

Upstairs, Eddie stopped you in the hall on the way to the bathroom. “You’re right, I do love your mom. I’m just not used to that sort of thing.” He ran a hand through his hair, and he looked a little embarrassed. 

“I told you so,” you said, raising yourself up to give him a quick kiss.

“But I’m still gonna fuck you in that bed,” he said, and ran into the bathroom and shut the door, cutting off his giggles. You went to your room, shaking your head, but smiling.

You were just beginning to drift off to sleep when you heard your door creak open, and a thin sliver of light slashed across the room.

“Whaa?” you mumbled sleepily.

“Shhh!” You heard the door click shut. The springs screeched in protest as Eddie sat at the edge of the bed.  The room was very dark, and you could only make out his shape vaguely as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Eddie, what–” he interrupted your query with his lips, and it was the first time he had really kissed you since you arrived at your mom’s house. You relaxed into it and returned the kiss deeply.  After a moment, he broke away.

“I told you I was going to sneak in here.”  There was a brief period of rustling, and he threw the covers back and climbed into the bed, laying on top of you. 

“Eddie!” you hissed.  "What if she hears?  This bed is noisy as hell, and my mom’s room is right down the hall…“

"I can hear your mom snoring babe. Don’t worry, we’ll be quiet.”

You sighed in resignation and Eddie chuckled, burying his face into the crook of your neck to mask the sound, which tickled and set you off to giggling as well.

"This is ridiculous.  I feel like I’m in high school,” you whispered between giggles.

“Why, what did you do in high school? On second thought, don't tell me.” Eddie asked, and this time you both laughed harder, and you had to pull the covers over your heads.

After the giggling died away, Eddie resumed kissing you, and you did indeed feel like you were back in high school. His hands roamed your body, sliding up your shirt and over your breasts, pausing to play with your nipples. The manner in which you were making out– fervently and with an almost teenage clumsiness due to your environment– took you back to the days when everything you did had the potential for getting you into trouble.  It was exciting, and you were becoming extremely aroused.  

Eddie slid his hand into your underwear and began to rub your clit.  He circled the sensitive bundle of nerves gently, deftly, and highly effectively. You moaned softly into his mouth as you grew more and more aroused with every second, and your entire body thrummed with excitement.  You slid your hand down into his sweatpants, and began pumping him rhythmically. He stiffened his back in response, and you could feel his breaths growing quicker. He slipped two fingers into your heat, forcing you to stifle a squeal; you were getting pretty close to the edge already. You struggled to wiggle out of your underwear, which was not an easy task in your attempts to keep the bed quiet.

When you were free of your knickers, you wrapped your legs around his trim waist, and Eddie shoved down his sweatpants enough to free himself; the bed springs protesting loudly as he squirmed to position himself.  "Oh god, hurry up,“ you gasped, and then he slid inside of you, filling you.  He held still for a moment and allowed you to enjoy the sensation of being completely connected before he began to slowly thrust in and out.  

"Ah,” you gasped,  "Oh...my...god…“  Perhaps it was the danger of the situation enhancing your excitement, because you felt like you were about to explode. You were a powder keg set aflame, every touch felt heightened, any touch sending sparks through every nerve; you could immolate on the spot and die happy.

"Shh,” Eddie shushed between thrusts but it was a halfhearted attempt; he felt the same excitement and heightened arousal you did. He was attempting not to pump too hard, as the springs were being noisy enough already, but he couldn’t help himself from increasing the pressure and pace– it just felt too damned good to hold back.  

“Eddie– fuck–” you panted, and then bit down on his shoulder to stifle the screams you felt were going to burst out of you any second.  Eddie hissed at the sudden pain, but it only caused him to fuck into you harder and deeper.  It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, for that proverbial coil to snap, and you bucked your hips as a particularly intense orgasm hit you.  Your body spasmed as your climax washed over you, and you focused on not crying out, whining against Eddie's shoulder instead. Eddie's own orgasm arrived only a moment later, and he whimpered softly as he slammed his pelvis into yours once…twice…three more times as he pumped his conclusion into you.

He lay atop you for a moment while the two of you caught your breath.  You were flushed and ecstatic; you were here with your love, and he was happier than you had seen him in ages. You trailed your fingers lazily up and down his back as he recovered, and you peppered his face with kisses.

“Okay,” he whispered with a chuckle, “I guess I should head back, as soon as my legs work again.”

You returned the chuckle as he slid out of you and pulled up his sweatpants. “Goodnight,” he said, and you could feel his smile behind the sweet kiss he planted on your lips. "I love you. Merry Christmas babe."

You thought your heart might explode into a thousand glittering butterflies. "Merry Christmas Eddie, I love you too."

The next morning at breakfast, the two of you sat side by side, nibbling toast and jam and sipping coffee.

Your mom came into the kitchen, sleepily rubbing her eyes.

“Decided to sleep in?” you said.

“Well it’s the damnedest thing,” she said, giving you a look and your stomach dropped. “That bed of yours is just so squeaky, I couldn’t get any sleep. We really should tighten the screws on that thing.”

This time it was Eddie who sputtered his coffee.

MASTERLIST

Author's Note: I want to write more drabbles, so if you have prompts, please send them in!

I don't have a general taglist, but if you would like me to start one and add you, just let me know!

As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of every fic writer. :)

[shxnhes]

── 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃. ೃ꙳⊹

﹟diluc : eula : kaeya : jean : albedo : x gn!reader : cw children. after unexpectedly receiving a letter from a friend saying they wanted to travel the world alone, they decided to leave behind their child in your care while they go m.i.a until further notice, leaving you to raise the child with your lover. established relationship. not proof-read.

DILUC RAGNVINDR ೃ꙳⊹──

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ pursing his lips into a thin line, Diluc was quite conflicted on how to feel. on one hand, he had always wanted to start a family with you but was unsure how to approach the topic, but on the other, was this really alright? he watched as you cuddled the child, fingers running through the little girl’s hair as you helped her comb it and tie it up, smiling, oh such a dazzling smile that made his heart skip a beat, at the little girl who was now your’s. “all done!“ he heard you hum in satisfaction as you whispered in the ear of the child who happily nodded as she ran up to him with her eyes sparkling, clutching tightly onto his pant’s with her tiny little hands and grinning ear to ear. “do i look pwetty?” she asked oh so innocently that his previous concerns and worries about rushing into this melted away quickly, awkwardly responding but still trying his best. “you look extremely pretty,” he reassured as she nuzzled her face into his leg in joy while you sat up, joining them with your own little laugh and pressing a small kiss to his cheek. “and how do i look?” you joked, hand on the little girl’s shoulder as the other embraced him.

EULA LAWRENCE ೃ꙳⊹──

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “vengeance will be mine!” the little girl mimicked, puffing out her chest proudly as one of her hand laid on her hip, the other attempting to dust back her little cape reminiscent of your lover’s. chuckling, you take one look at your lover and then back at the little girl that evidently adored her and looked up to her, maybe even more than you did. “hmph,” the two stuck their heads to the side, leaving you to thank Blanche for the groceries and mouthing an apology to her. looking over at the little girl that peeked at her with shining eyes, Eula couldn’t believe that she was beginning to enjoy her presence. she vowed vengeance on your friend for leaving behind such an adorable child. taking the grocery bags from the table, the little girl copied her actions, picking up bags which were clearly too heavy without complaint as you thanked the two. “you’ve done well avenging the name of our clan,” she praised, both you and the little girl sharing a big grin with each other as your lover’s face turned red, huffing at the two of you for making a big deal and exchanging faces with each other.

KAEYA ALBERICH ೃ꙳⊹──

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you couldn’t help but smile as you tucked your boys underneath the blanket, brushing their hair away from their foreheads as you give both of them a chaste kiss on the forehead while putting the book away, making sure to bookmark it. although he tried not to show it, you knew Kaeya was nervous at the prospect of being a dad. he was always calm, collected, and teasing, but ever since you took in your friend’s child you’d seen a more fatherly side of him, even more than with Klee. you’d gone to work and let the two have a boys evening, only to come back to the two snuggling on the couch passed out with now slightly cold cookies in the kitchen and a mess for you to clean up. just as you were about to leave the living room, you feel a hand grab at your wrist, turning you around as your lover smiles sleepily. “going somewhere?” he asks as you find yourself pulled beside him, giving him another quick peck on the lips as the three of you cuddled and slept together.

JEAN GUNNHILDR ೃ꙳⊹──

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ peeking from behind the door, Jean felt a small pair of eyes staring at her but were too nervous to say anything. glancing up from her paperwork, she placed her pen down and smiled gently at the little boy that clearly wanted her attention but didn’t want to disturb her. “yes? come in,” hearing this the boy was startled but with your gentle nudging came in together with you, smiling. “go ahead,” you told the boy as you pat his head encouragingly. outstretching his little hands and tiptoeing to put the pretty basket full of baked goods on her desk, twiddling his thumbs as he looked to the floor. “we… we mwade these together for you since you’re always working so hward.” hearing this, your lover perked up as her eyes widened slightly as you cast her a knowing smile. “thank you very much, would you like to eat them together?” she asked as he nodded, relieved she liked it. every now and again, having a little family break weren’t too bad, especially with such a cute child and lover.

ALBEDO ೃ꙳⊹──

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “do you want to explain what happened?” you lightheartedly question, quirking a brow at the two in front of you. both your lover and your daughter were covered in paint, and what looked like stray blades of grass stuck to their clothes and hair. “papa and I made pretty drawings!” the girl cheerfully smiled, laughing at the memory, making you unconsciously smile as well. looking over at Albedo, you shake your head and hand him two towels to dry themselves off before going to fetch a spare set of clothes. “help me, pretty please papa?” the little girl asked as he gave a soft and gentle smile, wiping off the paint from her cheeks and picking out stray grass from her hair as she reciprocated, helping wipe his face off as best a child could. as the two exchanged soft laughs and conversation, you had no heart to interrupt and tell them to shower and change, residing yourself to merely watching the two cutely interact like real father and daughter until one of them would notice you’d returned.

© shxnhes ೃ꙳⊹── self-indulgent writing because i enjoy writing about kids and parental interactions more than a person should. might make a mondstat part two, or liyue part two, unsure as of now.

[satinsumu]

favour. || oikawa t.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: MINORS DNI, f!reader, explicit sex, oral sex, fingering, virginity loss, dirty talk, creampie

summary: your friend, the good samaritan oikawa, does you a favour by taking your virginity—a little too willingly.

a/n: written in one sitting on a whim and did not proofread lol please i loooove the first time trope

oikawa stares at you in disbelief, his warm, chocolate eyes wide and fixated on you.

“what?” you sigh, starting to regret casually mentioning that you’d never actually slept with anyone before. “why is that such a surprise to you? is it really such a bad thing?”

“no,” he quickly says, regathering his composure. “you’re just so cute, i’d expect a line of guys waiting to get at you.”

“they are,” you laugh teasingly, the sound causing his heart to flutter. “doesn’t mean i’d want to fuck them though—didn’t you tell me not to settle?”

“of course!” oikawa exclaims, a look of what appears to be slight relief washing across his face. “but you never got curious? just tried it even once?”

“it’s kind of scary,” you admit nonchalantly, never keeping secrets from your friend. “men are scary, honestly. you never know if they’re just gonna hit it and quit it.”

“yeah, your first time should definitely be with someone who cares about you,” he nods, throat feeling oddly dry.

you sigh in a way that says, i’ll-never-find-someone-like-that-so-why-even-bother?

oikawa licks his lips, and contemplates his next question.

“you always have me,” he chirps, a sickening sweet smile plastered across his face. “if you want your first time to be good, guaranteed.”

you want to smack him and tell him to stop joking, but the way your heart skips a beat tells you that this might just be all you ever wanted. and with the way he’s eagerly waiting your response, hiding behind the charming grin you know so well, you get a feeling that this could be something more than just a little favour he’s offering to do.

and that’s how you ended up in his room just one night later, the prettiest (but not overdone) lingerie set under your skirt and your hoodie as oikawa locks his door—not that he needs to.

he makes his way over to the side of his king-sized bed as you take a seat on the mattress, him towering over you with a casual smile on his face.

though, it feels like there’s something else to it. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the great oikawa tooru, breaker of hearts, was nervous.

“so!” he chirps, clapping his hands together as his eyes linger on your thighs pressed against the blankets for a second too long. “is there anything off-limits?”

“uh,” you think for a moment, interlocking your fingers. “no anal.”

“no problem,” he hums with a nod. “anything else?”

“not really,” you say, fidgeting in place. this is so weird. “i guess i’ll just tell you if something comes up.”

“okay,” he agrees, unzipping his jacket as he tosses it onto the chair beside his desk. “one more thing—are you on the pill?”

“yeah?” you answer, tilting your head at him, the gears in your mind turning just a bit more slowly than his.

“cool. just wondering,” oikawa chuckles, eyes glimmering at you.

and with that, he closes the remaining space between your faces, locking his lips with yours and taking you by surprise. your eyes flutter shut instinctively, although you gasp into his mouth at the gesture.

oikawa takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, swirling it around your own before biting your lower lip gently. 

you pull away briefly, short of breath at the unexpected kiss, eyes displaying a mixture of shock and confusion, though not unhappiness.

“kissing is important,” oikawa shrugs, face glowing with a bit too much content. 

he pulls you in by the nape of the neck once more, kissing you gently, but passionately. you slowly release the tension in your furrowed brows as you wrap an arm around his neck, unable to get enough of his minty breath, and the way he sucks at your tongue.

his hand slowly travels down from your cheek to the bottom of your hoodie, tugging at it once to gesture for you to let him take it off. you break the kiss for another moment as he hauls the article of clothing over your head, his eyebrow raising at the sight of you wearing nothing but a bra underneath.

“what’s the point in wearing a shirt if i’m just gonna take it off anyway?” you mumble, cheeks feeling hot under his gaze.

“you look pretty,” he beams at you.

you’re so flustered by his compliment—you two are just “friends,” after all—that you don’t notice the tent forming in his grey sweatpants.

before you can say anything in response, oikawa is crashing his lips against yours once more, this time with fervor, hunger, and desire. you struggle to keep up with the pace he’s set, occasionally panting in between kisses as he slips a hand into the cup of your bra.

you gasp at the contact, his hand slightly cold against your warm skin while he just smiles sweetly at you, gently pushing you down against his mattress by the shoulders. he leans back down to lock his lips with yours while still kneading your breast with one hand, the other pressed against the headboard above you. you don’t even noticed that he’s unclasped your bra and tossed it aside.

the area between your thighs begins to feel slightly warmer than before as you rub your legs together, taken aback by the sensation. oikawa pulls away from you for a second to take his shirt off, and you feel your heart lodge itself in your throat at the sight of his torso; his tan, muscular build is really something straight out of a magazine (literally).

“like what you see?” he smirks teasingly as you look away, but he uses one hand to turn your head back towards him. “eyes on me, baby.”

it’s in that moment you feel like you’re finally seeing the oikawa tooru that everyone else sees: the charismatic, experienced lady magnet that you’ve never even given the time of day.

a breath escapes you at the intimacy, but returns to your lungs in gasps once oikawa leans in to tower over you, his broad shoulders casting a shadow above your head. he begins trailing kisses down from your lips to your jawline, to your neck and your chest, then to each breast as he takes one of your nipples gently between his teeth.

“o-oika—” you stutter, squirming at the sensitivity, but he doesn’t stop.

“call me tooru when we’re in bed,” he enunicates, swirling his wet tongue around the bud. he can’t help but smirk at how cute you look, all hot and bothered underneath him.

the sensation of his saliva against the tip of your skin makes your heart pound, and it’s almost hard to focus on which breast feels better when he’s kneading the other one with his large, strong hands. 

you find yourself running your fingers through his hair as your eyes squeeze shut, the softness of his head oddly comforting as he continues to nip at your skin.

but the comfort doesn’t last for long.

you feel his lips leave your chest as they begin to travel further and further down, the trail of kisses left along your belly indicating exactly where he’s going. he hikes your skirt up to your waist with a flick of his wrist, marveling at the matching underwear you’re wearing beneath it.

“wow, just for me?” he coos, licking his lips. “i’m honoured.”

you wrack your brain for some sort of witty remark to wipe the shit-eating grin  off his face, but he plunges his hand between your thighs and draws a long, slow line against the thin cloth over your cunt before you can say anything.

“o-oikawa!” you cry, flinging your head against his pillow at the shock he just sent through your body. it was sudden, but... pleasurable.

“i told you,” he murmurs, gazing at you with dark eyes. “call me tooru.”

his last sentence comes out like a threat once you feel his finger slide up and down your underwear faster, the contact against your folds driving you crazy. you feel the fabric grow slightly damp as it gets wetter with every teasing stroke of his hand, and you know he can feel it too.

“feel good, princess?” he chuckles, unable to tear his eyes off of your flustered face while you give him small nods, too embarrassed to look at him. he pushes the middle section of your panties to the side with ease and slides a finger into you slowly, your arousal making it smooth for him to do so.

“so diiiirty,” he hums at the way your breath hitches, and the way his digits squelch against your juices. “and all i’ve done is put a finger in you.”

“f-feels good, tooru,” you breathe, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. oikawa feels himself get much harder at your reassurance, pride swelling up in his chest.

he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

“it better,” he grins cheekily. he slips another finger into you, moving in and out with languid motions so you can feel every bit of him as he curls his fingers upwards. 

you gasp at the way he seems to hit a spot inside you that feels a bit different than before, but whine once you feel him pull his fingers out.

“what’re you—ah!”

before you can finish your question, oikawa’s ducked his head between your legs, licking your juices up from your folds. he pulls the panties off of you before spreading your legs wide open and holding your thighs down firmly, the hem of your skirt resting gently against his head as he eats you out.

“oh my god, oh my god,” you pant, seeing stars in your eyes. you can’t believe oikawa tooru has his tongue in your cunt, licking up and down, teasing your clit like his life depends on it.

your hands grip the sheets in fistfuls as you stare at the ceiling, biting your bottom lip so hard you think it might bleed.

oikawa takes the small bud between your folds with his mouth and sucks, before dragging his tongue around it and licking your arousal off of your skin.

“mm,” he breathes into you, his voice muffled from below. “taste so... good...”

your juices are flowing onto his face as he laps it up relentlessly, his tongue sending spasms of pleasure through your body. a coil begins to build itself in your core, and you think you’re going to snap if he keeps going at this rate.

but the next second, the contact is gone.

“w-wait,” you whine, seeing oikawa get up from the edge of the bed.

oikawa doesn’t even bother hiding his amusement.

“don’t worry, i’ll let you cum tonight,” he reassures you, pulling down his sweatpants and revealing the huge bulge in his boxers. “just not with my mouth—not this time.”

your eyes widen at his size as he drags his remaining undergarments off, his cock springing out from beneath.

it looks big. and hard. 

like it’s swollen, and intimidating. you’re not sure if the veins along the side or the overall size make you more uneasy.

although oikawa seems to get a nice little ego boost from expression as he chuckles, “it’ll fit.”

you’re reminded of how he immediately deprived you of pleasure just now, and pout at him.

“just hurry uuuuup.”

“didn’t take you for an impatient one,” he laughs, leaning over you as he plants one hand beside your head, and gives his aching member a few good pumps with the other. “are you ready?”

you give him a small nod, biting your lower lip as he presses the tip of his cock against your folds. you feel a little tingle from the contact as you wrap your arms around his neck, perhaps out of desire for some comfort.

he slowly slides himself into you, pausing to let you adjust to his size as you hold your breath, before bottoming out and stretching you wide open. you squeeze your eyes shut at the foreign sensation, though it’s not unpleasant.

“doing okay?” he murmurs in your ear, to which you give him a small nod, still practically hugging him to your body. “i’m gonna start moving.”

you feel the sides of his cock drag along your walls inch by inch as he slowly pulls out of you, until the throbbing tip is just barely in between your folds. then, without warning, he thrusts himself deep inside you.

“ah!” you cry out, clinging onto him for dear life, but never telling him to stop. it feels good being clenched around him, your bodies so close together and fitting within each other like puzzle pieces. 

“fuck,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “you’re so damn tight.”

he slides himself out of you again and repeats the action, slowly gathering more speed until he’s really fucking you at a set tempo. 

you feel his hips snap against yours as he pulls himself in and out of you at a rapid pace, the mild discomfort slowly turning into pleasure.

“t-o-o-ru,” you gasp, your words split up with each of his thrusts into your body as you dig your nails into his skin.

“right here, baby,” he grunts, rutting into you with continuous force. “that feel good?”

“y-yeah,” you pant in his ear as he grips the headboard tightly, not giving a damn if the neighbours can hear the wood knocking against their wall. “f-feels so, ngh! good!”

“you’re so fucking tight,” he mutters, pulling out and slamming his throbbing cock back inside you, watching your body move back and forth on the bed with every one of his motions. “and you take my cock so well.”

he slides himself out of you briefly as you blink at the loss of contact, barely able to process what’s happening before he flips your body over.

“get on all fours,” he orders, with surprising authority—and need.

“i thought i said no anal,” you remark, though already getting into the position he wanted.

“relax,” oikawa smiles at you, tracing a finger slowly down your spine and onto your ass cheek, giving it a squeeze that sends tingles through your body.

your body twitches once you feel him rub the head of his cock against your folds, still wet from your arousal. he inserts himself back into your aching cunt that was tired of clenching around nothing, a new wave of pleasure washing over you.

“a-ah...” you moan, tossing your head back at the new sensation. you back yourself into him as you feel oikawa put both of his large hands on your body,  gripping your waist.

and once he starts to move, you know it won’t be long before you cum.

he’s thrusting himself into you mercilessly now, his cock so deep inside of your wet cunt that you feel like he’s literally rearranging your guts. 

“that’s it, baby,” he grunts with each snap of his hips. “doing so good.”

the pleasure is overwhelming as he hits a spot inside you that you didn’t even know could feel this way.

“tooru!” you cry, tears brimming your eyes at how hard he’s slamming his dick inside you, overcome with how fucking good it feels. “d-don’t stop.”

“i won’t until you cum,” he growls in your ear, leaning over so his chest is pressed against your sweaty back. “you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

you nod furiously as you bite your lip, small dribbles of saliva leaking out of your mouth at how good he’s fucking you. god, you look so angelic, wearing nothing but a tiny skirt, ass perked up just for him while he rails you into tomorrow.

“g-gonna cum,” you whimper at the same familiar coil building in your core from earlier as oikawa thrusts faster and faster, your tits bouncing back and forth as they hang above the mattress.

“cum for me, princess,” oikawa grates, barely holding onto his own orgasm with how tight you are around him. “taking my cock so well, letting me fuck you so good.”

“tooru-ah! tooru!” your cries of his name fill the room with the lewd slapping sounds of his balls against your ass, the unbelievable speed he’s ramming into you at on the cusp of desperation.

“let me see you fucking cum,” he curses, moving one hand between your thighs to play with your sensitive clit. the pleasure sears through your body as your vision grows slightly hazy from the stimulation. “cum on my cock, baby.”

“w-want you to cum inside,” you breathe, not sure of how much you can last longer. you don’t need to ask twice as he rubs fast circles with his slender fingers against your clit, cock still thrusting in and out of you with incomparable speed. “a-ah! t-tooru, i’m gonna c-cum!”

you feel the coil inside you snap as your walls clamp down against his cock, your juices flowing out of your cunt and down your thighs as oikawa continues grinding against you.

“f-fuck,” he curses, giving you one last, deep, hard thrust as you feel the tip of his cock touch your cervix, groaning as he chases his own orgasm right after yours. he’s still hugging you close to his body as you feel his warm seed spill inside you, the white fluids trickling onto the bed sheets in a mixture with your own.

you’re gasping, out of breath as oikawa pulls himself out of you, the two of you flopping onto the bed together. you lay in the quiet of each other’s pants, staring at the ceiling.

frankly, you’re still in a bit of disbelief over what just happened—you just let oikawa tooru, your friend, fuck you on his bed and take your virginity.

he made you cum. and made you beg for him—willingly.

“how’d it feel?” oikawa asks after a few seconds, breaking the silence with his familiar smile.

“good,” you admit with a giggle as oikawa turns his head to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“wanna go again?”

[evertidings]

rooftop nights [giveaway; short story]

— a short story between Rylan and the hunter in the period where they still haven’t decided how they feel about the half-vampire

Rylan is finally breaking you down.

At least, they hope so.

No matter how much they’ve tried, they haven’t been able to have a good relationship with you. Your answers are always clipped, a distrusting scowl on your face when you speak to or about them. Rylan can’t blame you. You’ve been integrated into IAOS, made to believe that Rylan is the bad guy who murdered a human woman and is trying to get away with it through a giant scheme. If that were true, Rylan wouldn’t do something this drastic—nor ridiculous, for that’s what this is—but the thought is still there, nonetheless.

Somehow though—maybe it was their charm, or maybe it was their puppy dog eyes that they had perfected over the years—they managed to arrange a date between you two. Well, not a date, per se, but a nighttime outing on the rooftop of your apartment building.

Fun, they know. But they’ll make it into something worthwhile.

They’re walking the edge of the roof when you arrive. It’s a habit of theirs to keep moving, to live life—quite literally—on the edge. This high up, they’ll probably die if they fall, but their reflexes are fast enough that they might be able to catch a ledge and save themself. Either way, they’re not too concerned. Maybe that’s a concern in itself.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” you call out. The sound of your voice doesn’t startle Rylan—they heard you coming up the last flight of stairs ten seconds ago. Still a risky move on your part, but they don’t comment on it.

“Does this mean you care for me?” Rylan teases. They take another couple of steps just to taunt you and then hop off onto the gravel. They don’t miss the tiny sliver of tension that releases from your posture when they’re safe.

“I’d just rather not deal with your dead body on a Saturday night,” you clarify.

“Right.” Rylan approaches you and stops when they’re a couple steps away. With the night chill, they can see the traces of your breath in the air. You stand your ground, trying to appear tough, but Rylan is good at seeing through acts. They’re an expert at performing them themself, after all. They grin.

“So, what did you want me here for?“ you ask.

“Does there need to be a reason?”

You frown. “Don’t tell me you dragged me all the way up here for nothing.”

“You took the elevator.”

“I climbed the last two flights of stairs,” you huff.

Rylan laughs and begins to walk off to the corner of the roof. “A hunter like you should be plenty capable of that. Come, I’ll show you my favourite spot.”

“Favourite?” you echo. There’s confusion in your voice, lined with a thin layer of suspicion. “You mean you come and stalk my rooftop often?”

“Often is stretching it. I’ve only been here a couple of times,” Rylan admits. They hum to themself and sit down. Truthfully, they’ve probably explored most of the rooftops in New York City. There was a time where they tried a dozen new ones every night, jumping around to see which one had the nicest view. They’d discovered this one before they realized you even lived here. Coincidences.

They pat the ground. “Sit down. I promise I don’t bite.”

You scowl at that but do as they say. It’s a bad joke, but that doesn’t stop Rylan from finding it funny. If you won’t laugh at it, then they will. They’re their own biggest fan.

Rylan stares into the distance but doesn’t say anything for a moment, letting you take in the sight in silence. Though your apartment building is tall, it’s not enough that it overlooks the entire city. It’s a shame, but when in the right spot at the right time, the view is breathtaking.

“You see those lights?“ they ask, pointing to a room in a far-off building on the right. “A young couple lives there. They own one of my favourite bakeries in the city. They haven’t gotten much business yet, but I’m sure they’ll get there eventually.”

They gesture to the crowd forming on the street. “That over there is the lineup for a local nightclub. I’ve been and it sucks—doesn’t deserve half the hype it gets—but the drinks there are pretty good. Those and the hot bartenders. Those two are the only reasons they get business.”

They pull your attention to a hotel on the left. “And there? That building is owned by a woman named Hazel. She used to run it with her husband, but he lost his battle to cancer a couple of years ago and it’s been just her ever since. She’s done a good job though. I stayed there a couple nights when I didn’t have a place to go. I still drop by to say hi sometimes.”

You’re silent as Rylan rambles, talking about the people they know or the places they’ve been. They keep going until they run out of energy and you let them—a fact they surprises them.

“Why are you telling me this?“ you finally ask. your voice is soft, but suspicion is threaded in every syllable.

“I don’t need to have an ulterior motive,” Rylan replies. They lean back and lie on the pavement. They can wash their hair in the morning.

You shake your head. “No, you’re up to something. Trying to humanize yourself, maybe. Make yourself seem good so I can feel guilty about being distrustful about you.”

“If that’s what you think then you’re giving me too much credit. I’m not doing anything.” And it’s true. As much as it may look like it, Rylan didn’t plan this out. The rooftop part yes, but the rambling part no. “What you take of this conversation is up to you.” They pause and glance at you. “Why? Do you feel guilty?”

“That doesn’t happen with just one speech,” you answer. It’s obvious how you avoid the question, but they don’t press you.

“Fair enough.” Rylan blows out a breath. “I don’t care if you hate me, hunter. I don’t care if anyone does—other people’s opinions on who I am do nothing for me in the end.”

“Poetic,” you deadpan.

Rylan ignores the comment. “You don’t have a reason to trust me and I respect that. I won’t try and win you over with gifts or honeyed words. If you eventually come to think of me as a friend rather than a bounty, then it’ll be on your own time and because you want to, not because I coerced you into it.”

You hesitate and glance over at Rylan. And there’s a moment there where they think your heart skips a beat. Where they can hear your breath catch as your mind gets caught between two opinions—one where you’re loyal to IAOS, and one where you’re slowly realizing that liking Rylan won’t be a betrayal to your job. The former is currently overshadowing the latter, but they can feel your mindset shifting—alongside your emotions.

As a half-vampire for all of their life, Rylan has learned what the signs are when someone is attracted to you. There’s more than flirting and flushed complexions—if that’s even applicable. Sometimes it’s a quiet sharp intake when you touch, an increase of body temperature, the slight dilation of pupils. They’re signs a human could catch, but one that a supernatural catches much easier.

And they’ve seen that all with you.

The thought doesn’t affect Rylan much. They think you’re attractive of course, they have since the moment you’ve met, but they don’t like to get their hopes up for no reason.

Besides, a relationship like yours would never work. They doubt you would even give it a shot with the dynamics you have. So, they push the idea aside and settle for teasing instead. To see how far they can push themself and you close to the edge before drawing back. You can’t be together, but Rylan sure as hell can have fun testing the boundaries.

You clear your throat, smoothing over the short pause of silence. “You know, for someone who says they aren’t trying to convince me of anything, you sure are persuasive.”

Rylan laughs. “Years of practice come in handy.” They stand up and offer you a hand. You stare at it for a beat too long but take it. Your hands fit perfectly in each other’s. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

They wink. “That’s a secret. You didn’t think this entire night would be us staying on this rooftop, did you?”

You shrug. “Maybe. But as long as there are no stairs involved, I’ll come.”

It’s a step forward. A leap of faith to trust Rylan to not bring you to some alleyway to rip out your throat and kill you. Not that they ever would—to anyone for that matter—but it’s probably a thought you’ve had before, so they appreciate you taking the chance.

A chance to become something other than bounty and hunter. Prey and the predator.

“No flights other than the two we need to take down to get to the elevator,” Rylan promises.

They let go of your hand and walk towards the rooftop exit. They don’t check that you’re following, but they don’t need to. Even without supernatural senses, they know that you are.

[leviiattacks]

CASHIER LEVI AND LIKE THE READER IS THE CUSTOMER AND IT’S LIKE THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON EACHTOHER

author note :: honestly not my best at all..... like at all..... this was actually pretty good but the entire draft got deleted and i just lost all my effort but i felt bad for starting it and not completing it for anon so you may take whatever i have managed to salvage. i hope u enjoy it :’( i am extremely sick rn and yeah writing is the only break i am currently getting from anything :-) SO AGAIN I’ M SORRY ANON..... i may write a 10k + word fic on this though so i can redeem myself bc this is just disappointing 😭

word count :: 3.3k

every single thursday you stop by ackermart. maybe it’s because the day is convenient for you or perhaps it’s because of a certain cashier that works the evenings...

HAHA it’s got nothing to do with a cashier why would it have anything to do with a cashier? :-)

today is like any other. you walk through the fresh produce aisle then proceed to make your way towards the bakery section picking up a loaf of bread

it’s stupid, you know it is but... you think you’ve worked up enough courage to speak to him today!!

and who is him you may ask?

levi at till number four. his tired eyes always happen to pierce into yours and his calloused thumbs brush past your skin when you hand him your rewards card

levi is what his bright red name tag says and although he doesn’t look like a levi you’d like to think your crush isn’t stealing someone’s identity so you believe that it’s his real name

anxiously fiddling with your basket you’re beginning to think this was a horrible idea

the girl ahead of you is flirting up a storm with him and although he’s not reciprocating it by any means you still feel deterred

levi bags the last of her groceries and looks up at her when she asks for a way to contact him. he doesn’t look mad... just bored?

“ma’am. this is an ackermart i don’t think it’s appropriate you ask me for my number. the customer service line is listed on our website.”

the woman raises a brow looking completely flabbergasted. okay, if everything before this wasn’t a warning THIS sure was

she stomps off when she realises levi isn’t kidding and you think you’d feel bad for her maybe if she was more respectful about it

“next customer.” levi calls over his shoulder and you shuffle forward pretending to be engrossed in your phone

“cash or card?” he asks plainly.

you hear the BEEP of your groceries being scanned and think on it for a while before replying with “cash”

you’re clearly pretty good at your pretend to be totally into your phone act because levi tries to get your attention but you don’t hear what he has to say till the third time he repeats himself

but even then you’re still unsure what it is he’s said????

looking down you see his hand is stuck out in front of you and now you’re even more confused

faltering for a second you look at his palm and then speak

“um, i guess your hand is nice? it’s pretty big compared to the rest of you actually.”

“i was asking for your cash?” he says and now you look at his palms in mortification

gasping you yANK your hand into your purse as you laugh awkwardly fishing around to find your money

“oh, OH i knew that. just kidding!! i mean- i meant that thing about your hand?? but i thought it was- i funny? yes the joke funny? i’m-”

he leans back into his spinning chair and sighs contently. “you’re not making much sense peaches.”

“pe- peaches??” you repeat. no way you’ve heard that correct

levi lazily points at the abundance of the aforementioned fruit in your grocery bags

“you must love em.”

“i, well yeah i do like peaches but i also like...” um??? what food would make you look sophisticated and professional?

OH YEAH

“FRENCH CUISINE :-)!!!!” you say rather proudly

“...cool. i guess.” levi hands you your grocery bag which is basically an invitation asking for you to get out

he doesn’t seem mad but he’s definitely going to look back at this encounter and laugh his ass off at how stupid you are

hanging your head down low in embarrassment you make your way out towards your car

there’s always next time!! maybe you can practice in the mirror yeah that does sound like it would help!!!

okay so.

it is officially next time.

actually you never got the opportunity to practice in front of the mirror because you chickened out of looking like an idiot even if it was in the privacy of your own home

but!!! you did try to practice some cool pick up lines because who doesn’t like a good pickup line or two??

the two mini milk cartons in your hand and the pack of doughnuts you have tucked under your arm aren’t too heavy so you aren’t too worried about having to wait in the line

for some reason the guy in front of you keeps turning around and glancing at you as if you don’t even exist

you are not casper the ghost

also casper is a little boy and you definitely aren’t a little boy

finally after a good five minutes the man ahead of you is having his stuff scanned but he’s STILL doing it. even levi notices and gives him an odd look which borders annoyance and anger.

“can i pay for your groceries? maybe walk you to your car?” the stranger asks suddenly

so that’s what this is, he’s simply taken an interest in you

my god this is new but it is uncomfortable and you’d rather say no

“oh, i actually walked here and no thanks i can pay for my own. enjoy the rest of your day!!” you hope your white lie is enough to fool the man but instead of agreeing as any other person would he looks majorly deceived

“i saw you in the parking lot.” ok this is getting a bit too uncomfortable for your liking

“c’mon i’m offering to buy your shit too?”

his voice is raising and you’re not sure what exactly you can do but thankfully for you the manager steps in and takes him away before any more threats can be made

the man had taken up so much of your attention you almost forgot levi was even there until you turned back around

“do you want a member of staff to accompany you to your car? it’s getting dark out.” levi’s comment helps ease your nerves and you try to laugh off what just happened

“i’m good :-)” you say shaking a little. you’re unsure if it’s the cold or the fact you still haven’t completely calmed down

“you sure peaches?”

“i haven’t bought any peaches this time.”

“you’re still peaches to me.” your cheeks flush at his confidence

wait, maybe this is your chance. you’re the last person in his line and they’re closing up for the day so...

“could you walk me to my car?”

and to your surprise even before you can take back what you’ve said levi agrees

it stays like that for a while.

every thursday levi walks you to your car by the end of his shift, all the while the two of you exchange a few words together

like last week you asked him what his favourite colour was (he said purple) you’ve learnt about his hobbies (he’s a decent cook), you’ve even found out about some of his own personal problems. he had mentioned suffering with insomnia in passing.

to be honest each and every time he walks you to your car he has to notice that you begin to park further and further away from the front entrance. but if he does notice he doesn’t say a word about it

“is that all you’re checking out?” you ask with a cheeky grin plastered across your face

looking down at your new dress your lopsided grin is far from fading away any time soon. you especially picked this one out after asking levi what his favourite colour was last week

god. this is so embarrassing but never actually have you had a crush this huge

levi who’s sat behind the counter shoots you a look which almost seems to be on the verge of uninterested. he isn’t entertaining this at all or this is just his typical bored face, you can’t really tell

BUT..... you still have a huge crush on him and you aren’t one to give up this easily

for the record you don’t harass him or anything, just the occasional hint is thrown around but he’s either really dense or doesn’t care

his expression does you no favours, you can’t tell what he’s thinking half the time

“you’re always buying energy drinks... might want to cut down on those they’re no good for you.”

warmth blooms in your chest. he’s just saying it to make small talk but the fact he even thinks to bring that up has your heart fluttering

“i- well- yeah i will!! just have a few overdue essays to get over with :-)” twiddling your thumbs together you think that makes your nerves too obvious so you begin to scratch at the back of your neck

if anything is a dead give away it’s your constant neck scratching, thankfully levi hasn’t picked up on it

“so you wore purple today?” his eyes linger on the thin straps of your dress and you feel the goosebumps rise up onto your skin immediately

“oh yeahhhh-”

“did i tell you yellow was my favourite colour last week?” he asks holding up a neon yellow pack of crisps and for the first time you see him smile

he looks so ?!|>\€|^ pretty ?!/)/&

wait?? yellow??

“didn’t you say purple?”

“no?” he crosses his arms playfully over his chest thinking for a bit

“maybe i did but no it’s really yellow.” he says as he hands you your bag

nodding your head you smile “yeahhhh sure it is.”

damn, now you’re going to have to find a yellow dress just to make him revert back to purple because who even likes yellow?? that’s a deal breaker right there??

update

it’s been two weeks!!

and a yellow dress has been found and secured B-)

it’s been a pretty rough day at work and you need to desperately collect a pack of green tea and get going

you don’t know when exactly being a secretary meant you had to babysit your boss’ children but that’s what the last week has entailed

being made to work overtime to this extent has had an effect on you and you’re ready to head home as soon as you swing by ackermart

not seeing levi for a week made you a little :-( because to be honest he’s the highlight of your thursday evening BUT!! you’ll be able to see him today at least

walking in through the entrance you’re met with connie smiling right at you, he holds the door open for you and smile back greeting him

“so you didn’t come last week...?”

it’s weird for him to ask that, after all you don’t really speak to anyone here apart from levi, you’re surprised you’re enough of a regular to be known by name

“oh i didn’t think anyone would notice? but yeah i had to work overtime you know what boss’ are like.” groaning you crouch down and look at the pot noodles on display

“i didn’t notice it. boss man did.”

“boss man?” you ask feeling out of loop

“levi.” connie answers as he hops into the backroom

????

isn’t he just a cashier??

“you still look confused.” connie remarks as he heads back out with a cardboard box full of pringle’s tubes

“levi’s the boss man, this is his store. he literally only ever mans the cash register on thursday evening because of you.”

at that you start laughing because it makes no sense at all to you

there’s no way connie is being serious

“good one.” you say as you stand up with a chicken flavored noodle in your hand

“i’m not kidding?”

turning around you give him a skeptical look

he sighs and shakes his head.

“listen. me and the part timers are tired of making bets on when he’ll give you his number and i bet that it would happen today so if you could confess to each other that would be perfect!!!”

“who said i like-”

“anyone with a brain can tell you both like each other.” he’s rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head you begin to take him a little more seriously now

“i... did i make it that obvious??” you’re directly facing him trying to get out as much information as you can

“yeah. very. at least levi wasn’t as bold.”

“i think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick he definitely doesn’t like me.”

connie gives you an “are you fucking with me?” look and you look away trying to distract yourself with the the canned goods lining the shelves

“he was worried sick when you didn’t come in for the entire week. he even asked me if he scared you away.”

“maybe i’m just his favourite customer?”

“favourite customer my ass he has a crush on YOU. confess.”

playing around with the ends of your sleeves connie sees he’s fighting a losing battle unless he gives you definitive solid proof

“please... i’ll get free barbecue if i win the bet and i’m kinda broke rn :-(” okay, you do want connie to eat well and be treated and maybe this is a good thing. if levi doesn’t like you then you can move on!!

“i’ll think about it.”

before connie can continue talking you make a beeline towards the tea aisle whilst throwing a “see you next time!” over your shoulder.

by the time you’ve gathered all of your groceries your basket is full to the brim. you’ve been lingering as much as you can out of fear but you think you’ve collected just enough courage to ask for his number

looking at the cash register levi is sat there and your shoulders slump. he’s probably going to say no and you’re going to look like a huge loser.

right as you’re about to take a step towards him levi finally spots you and gives you one look before standing up from his seat

“hi!” you wave at him

“...hey!” he smiles wide but he bites it back pretending it was never there in the first place

placing your basket in front of him he eyes what you’ve got

“hm... lots of peaches as per usual peaches.” the nickname that rolls of his tongue makes you tremble a little. will he call you that after you fuck everything up with this stupid confession?

his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek when he gets to the heart shaped box of chocolates

“a gift for a friend? didn’t know you had those?” he teases as he scans the barcode

“gift for a crush!” you reply back enthusiastically as you dig through your wallet looking for your card

levi doesn’t respond for a few seconds and an awkward silence fills the air. you glance up to see him looking at you open mouthed in shock

“good luck.” he murmurs under his breath he’s not even returning your gaze at this point and is hurriedly scanning through your barcodes

“you okay?” you ask worrying about his mood

“yeah, yeah. great.” he’s quieter than usual.

the rest of your encounter is the same, levi silently bags your groceries and you can’t tell if this is a good or bad response.

just as he’s about to place the heart shaped box into your plastic bag you lunge forward holding his wrist to stop him

“no i don’t need those.”

he cocks his eyebrow upwards trying to analyse your expression and gain an understanding of your thoughts

“don’t tell me you’re chickening out. whoever it is will say yes.” he scoffs as he places the chocolates into the bag handing them over to you with a warm smile

there it is again. the fear returns and you swipe your tongue over your slightly dry lips.

no way.

is he telling you to confess to someone now? so he must not like you?

taking the bag away from him you scratch your neck out of habit and huff feeling frustrated

“he keeps giving me mixed signals.” you say hoping he catches your drift

“give him the chocolates and let him put two and two together. don’t even say anything.” his advice would be great if he weren’t the guy you were trying to confess to in real time

nodding you reach into the bag and bring the box back out before gently placing it in front of levi

“are you serious?” he asks and your face drops seeing the possible displeasure in his eyes

great, connie and the part timers just over analysed he doesn’t like you, obviously he doesn’t like you, why would he like you?

without looking back you hurry out, the embarrassment is eating you away now and the thought of ever returning to ackermart isn’t even feasible in your mind

at this point you may as well change your name, identity, dye your hair, have a few children and wear sunglasses the next time you come back so you look like a soccer mum and not the foolish y/n who thought they had a chance with their cute CASHIER???

god, you probably look like a creep

the sound of footsteps can be heard behind you and labored breaths follow before levi calls out for you

“please wait up.” he grumbles. slowing down your pace you let him catch up to you. he grabs at your wrist and sighs in relief

turning you see him savour the air

is this the part where he confesses he likes you too or—

“your receipt you forgot it.” he gasps as he opens your hand for you and places it into your palm

oh.

fingers clasping shut onto the paper you feel the humiliation seep into your pores

this.

is.

the.

worst.

moment.

of.

your.

life.

“open it.” he offer you a boyish smile and your nerves don’t let you find comfort in it

you grimace as you fold it open, you’re imagining he’s charged you an extra £100 for having unwanted feelings for him and if that’s the case you’ll die on the spot

but instead your eyes light up in joy. you’re pleasantly surprised

...

inside of the receipt is his phone number haphazardly sprawled across in black biro - you even double check by comparing it to the number for the customer service helpline

hello??

HELLO.?.!/)£ HIS NUMBER???

“if you just wanted to return the chocolate this is embarrassing.” he’s the one who’s now scratching at his neck and you find that he’s endearing this way

the streetlight from above illuminates him, the shadows cast over his face and his brows aren’t furrowed as they usually are

you open your mouth to reply but connie cuts you off unintentionally. he can be heard YELLING into his phone ecstatic that his plan has worked out

“I WIN!!! HA BBQ’S ON YOU JEAN!! MUST SUCK TO BE YOU.”

you and levi look at each other and laugh, reassuring the other of what has just happened.

well...

you guess this is the start of something new? maybe??

:-)