#did not care for the swift-stuff but the art is nice

[soranatus]

BLACK CANARY/DINAH LANCE By Belén Ortega • in Wonder Woman (2023) #11

[crmsnmth-journal]

4/14/2024 9:00 PM

I had a really good Sunday. I didn't get much done at all, but I got to refresh my head. I went down to the river's edge and hiked to the bridge and back, about four miles all together. The woods are really waking up now that it seems spring is officially here. I'm not sure, but if I had to guess, we probably hit seventy degrees today. There's a tradeoff though, because now my room seems unreasonably hot. I won't open my window, because my screen has holes in it, and I really do not like bats in the house. I love to see them outside, but I do not like them flying around my house. They freak me out, and for some reason or other, rabies scares the absolute hell out of me. I don't mess with wild animals that can bite me and kill me with a disease that looks like something extremely horrible to go through.

I got my first negative "you suck" comments on one of my poems, and, maybe this is weird, but that makes me beyond happy. Sure, getting likes and reblogs, and nice comments are fun and all, but I was waiting until someone thinks I am so awful at what I love to do, that they need to tell me. If it's constructive, I'm all for it, and I will take those opinions with deep consideration, but to those who just tell me I suck, without really knowing anything about what I do, or more importantly WHY i do what i do, I feel sad for. Art critics. The idea of being a critic in any form of art fields is a laugh. Art is subjective. What I write means something different for someone else. What I see in my head is a totally different painting then the one hanging up on the wall. What I hear in music is far off from what someone else's ears hear. And that should be respected. I can't stand Taylor Swift, but I respect her place in the music world. I don't think Van Gogh paintings aren't all the beautiful, but I still consider him one of the masters but I'd put Robert S. Connet on that hill too. Memento dragged on, but Christopher Nolan is one of my favorite directors. And if you see something, and your thought is "wow, this sucks" and not "Let's try to make it better" maybe it's best you just shut the fuck up and let people have their thing. I will always love "You suck" comments, on the simple fact I've pissed one more stranger off.

But now, I'm sitting here, writing this and I'll write a few other lines while watching Melancholia for who knows how many times. I love me some Lars Von Trier films. The guy is a master at his craft. I need a break from Futurama anyway. As much as I love the show, after a bit some of the characters just irritate me and I can't do the show. I'm at a good spot to take a break anyway. The very beginning of the "movie" season.

Hopefully my brother turns up soon. They were headed into town so I sent them with some money to pack me up some soda and pop tarts. Yes, I know. I eat like a twelve year old. I don't care. I don't eat much, and when a strawberry poptart and a coke is all I can get down, it's healthier than not eating anything at all, right? Kind of ironic isn't it? A chef with no appetite. I can't remember the last time I ate something from where I work.

I did forget to take about Jolie yesterday. I've known her for years, as she used to run the kitchen in the American Legion at the same time I first took over the bowling alley kitchen. And we have always gotten along extremely well. It's always a good time when she's around. Just that kind of person. So she left the legion and hasn't done anything in the business since, but her and her husband are looking to buy a restaurant, and she offered me the job to come on has an actual head chef. I mean, I'd get to do menus again, and work with distributors and come up with stuff and have the actual fun parts of the job handed back. Of course, that means I'd also have to do the shitty parts too, budgets, scheduling, budgets, most maintence, did I mention budgets? Still, maybe it's a sign? I've been talking about how badly I want out of the alley, that maybe this is the universe giving me an option to do that, and maybe even re-light the fire and the passion for food to burn bright again?

[what-even-is-thiss]

Okay sitting down to listen to the second half now.

The Alchemy: Kinda boring? Maybe this song would be better if it was sung with an unfiltered cracked voice and an acoustic guitar. It’s a bit too monotone with the electronic mixing and perfected voice

Clara Bow: Weirdly same as above? I feel like a younger Swift would’ve sung this as a country song. Like done acoustically in a more country style this would be at home with some of her earliest work all the way back to fearless and speak now

The black dog: I like most things about this one except for the performance. This song might be legendary if they allowed some desperation into the performance. So far the second half of this album/first part of the second album needs more like raw emotion in it. I’d like to hear a performance of this song by someone willing to sound desperate and angry. Swift didn’t here even though I know she’s fully capable of doing that. She’s done emotional recordings before and they sounded pretty damn good.

imgonnagetyouback: So this song is good but like rest in the middle of an album kind of good? Like in any other Taylor Swift album I feel like this would be that one track near the end you’d listen to and enjoy it but also not feel guilty about skipping. Like New Romantics or Dress or something but in this album it’s notable enough to be one of the pretty good ones and I think that kinda encapsulates my opinion on this album so far.

The Albatross: This song is a little piece of art that’s nice to sit in and listen to when you’re in the mood. It’s like a story told in abstract. Not going on the shuffle playlist but not because it’s not good. Because I’d rather listen to it on purpose if that makes sense. It follows a similar tone to a lot of other stuff on this album. Like conversational tone middle to slow speed quiet singing.

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus: Retweet everything I said about The Albatross. I might be more likely to cry to this one if I’m in the right mood though.

How did it end?: I started spacing out during this one and had to start it over. I like the lyrics but the musical arrangement is so similar to the previous seven songs that my adhd brain is starting to whine about having to listen to the rest of this album.

So High School: Oh my god some electric guitars! We’ve got some variety, folks. Finally some mindless candy on this album. It’s a similar speed to all the other songs but I don’t even care because it’s different! It’s a fun little crush song. Some of the lyrics are slightly cringe but in a way that feels on purpose. Like the concept of the song is feeling like a teenager so I actually kinda like it. This one might go on the shuffle playlist.

I Hate it Here: Another song that’s like end to middle of the album skip over but not dislike kind of good. We’ve got some of that classic Taylor Swift wishing she was a glamorous washed up movie star flavor being the star of the show in this one. The quiet vocals work for this one better than some of the other ones on this album. This feels like a B side song though.

thanK you aIMee: Story song. Underdog song. Mild revenge song. I’d like it a lot better if it was on a different album. It’s a bit more upbeat and I like the acoustic guitar arrangement on this one. Like I feel like this song deserves a better album to be on. It’s pretty good. Like it’s not earth shattering but it’s pretty darn good. Going on the shuffle playlist.

I Look in People’s Windows: This song is like if the first three songs in this half actually had some emotion in them. It’s short and sweet and good for carrying a vibe to the next song. Not going on the shuffle playlist but I enjoy the work it’s doing for this album

The Prophecy: B side song for sure but I don’t hate it. Similar tonally to other songs on the album but it’s got just enough different in the vocal and musical arrangement to make it stand out on its own. Might be good to cry to at some point in the future when I’m in the right mood.

Cassandra: so. Up until this point I’ve just tried to look at the art as a body of work and not say what I feel about her as a person but this is the first song that idk if Taylor Swift can fully pull off emotionally. Cassandra is a loaded name. She’s a mythological figure with a lot of baggage. This song carries a lot of that baggage with it. I’m not quite sure I believe this performance. I like this song but I kinda wish she’d written it for someone else. Someone a lot angrier and more oppressed than she is. Cassandra deserves more desperation and hurt caused by the system feelings put on her name than Swift is able to give I think.

Peter: Not my favorite song I’ve heard about Peter Pan. That would be Lost Boy by Ruth B. But it’s alright. Whatever. Slightly boring I guess. It’s not bad but I’m ready for this album to be over.

The Bolter: Story song. I kinda don’t care. It’s just fine. A lot of songs on this album are just fine. I’m starting to space out again.

Robin: A bit brighter sounding than some other songs here with the piano arrangement but still similar to a lot of other songs on this album. If this was a slow song on a fast album I think I’d like it a lot more. Like if this was on 1989 or lover or something I’d like it. But it’s on the tortured poets department so I’m pissed off at it.

The Manuscript: The lyric video for this one isn’t word for word and is trying to be cute by being a screenplay or something which I don’t appreciate. As for the song itself, it’s about something Swift actually knows about which is dating an older man and being left with the aftermath of that. It’s a good cap to the end of a better album than this one. Same as Robin, I think I’d like it better if it was on a different album.

So the songs I actually liked on this marathon of an album were : My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys, So Long London, But Daddy I Love Him, Florida!!!, Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?, I Can Do it With a Broken Heart, imgonnagetyouback, The Albatross, So High School, thanK you aIMee, I Look in People’s Windows, The Prophecy, and The Manuscript.

Those by themselves are long enough to make a full album. If somehow by some miracle this analysis gets to Taylor Swift, ma’am, I’m a big fan of your work but make sure you have some people around you that are willing to tell you when something doesn’t belong on the album.

I have figured out that all the sudden Taylor Swift hate on my dash is due to a new Taylor Swift album being out and seeing that I'm a casual Swift fan (I do not identify as a Swiftie) I think perhaps I should listen and report my findings so I'm gonna have it on while I get ready for class today. Which is fitting because I'm going to poetry class so seeing as I am technically a tortured poet supposedly this album is meant to speak to me so *mario voice* Here we go!

[bestiesenpai]

Taker pt2 - Sukuna

Ah, the smell of freshly baked step-brother kink in the morning -3- the flavor is so good, I like to have it with my morning tea. Femme reader and this is the second and final part for this series(?)

part one

Content warnings: Sukuna big meanie, noncon+dubcon, degradation, a smol bit of praise!, spanking, choking(brief), pseudoincest(duh)

The incident you had with Sukuna was burned into your brain forever. You couldn’t even pass the couch anymore, gaze pointedly turned away from it whenever you were near. Sitting on it with your family was too much, especially when your mother sat in the seat Sukuna had been when he had his cock buried into you.

So, you did what seemed like the right idea: ran away to your grandparents house. It was under the guise of spending time with them and no one questioned it. They welcomed you with open arms, excited and surprised at the sudden visit.

It was nice with them, not having to deal with Sukuna sending you dirty looks when he walked past the lounge room and not having to avoid him in the halls at night when you were trying to use the bathroom or get a glass of water.

But when it came to you and your step brother Sukuna, nothing good lasted long.

“Oh Sukuna, hello!” The front door opened and your grandpa stepped back to reveal Sukuna, bundled up in a hoodie and sweats.

“Hey gramps.” Sauntering into the house with his hands in his pockets, Sukuna smirked widely at your horrified expression. “Hey little sis, ‘m here to take ya home!”

“W-what?” It had only been a week since you’d been gone, and while you had been planning to come home in a few days you weren’t expecting Sukuna to come get you.

“Yeah, you don’t remember texting me last night asking to pick you up today? Dad let me borrow the car, it’s parked out front.” Hooking his thumb behind him, Sukuna dropped the smirk when your grandma came into the room and donned an innocent pout.

“Sukuna, good to see you! Staying out of trouble I hope?”

“Eh, not really.” He shrugged and laughed lightly. Your grandparents didn’t know the half of it. Just a few days ago Yuji texted you that Sukuna had gotten into another fight and stumbled into your empty room dripping blood.

Your grandma laughed easily, patting him on the chest and muttering something about how rowdy young men can be. Glued to your spot, you watched in agony as Sukuna chatted up your grandparents, talking about something that you didn’t quite catch.

“(Y/N), don’t just sit there Sukuna came all this way to get you! Pack your things.” Your grandma caught your eye, brows knitting at seeing you not moving.

“But-” You stammered, trying to say something more diplomatic besides ‘I don’t want to go home with my perverted step brother that bullies me’.

“You need help getting your stuff together? Where’s your room, I’ll help.” Sukuna was already walking past you and toward the bedrooms, and you couldn’t stop him now. Biting your lip, you followed after him and darted into the bedroom you’d been using.

“Not so fast!” You tried to slam the door shut before Sukuna could come in but he was faster than you thought and much stronger than you remembered. His hand caught the door, shoving it open and shoving you back into the room with ease.

“Why’re you here?” You huff, turning your back to him and gathering the clothes you’d left strewn about.

“I came to get my little sister of course!” He said loud enough for your grandparents to hear. He had one eye over his shoulder, checking to see if one of them would come into the room. With the coast clear, Sukuna turned to you and dropped his voice. “I can’t have my little princess avoiding me forever now, can I?”

“It’s only been a week!” The sentence comes out as a whine and you throw your head back, stamping your foot in a huff.

“A week far too long to be apart from you.” With a dark chuckle, Sukuna walked up to you and pushed you on the shoulder, turning you to him. “I won’t let you slip through my fingers that easily.”

“I hate you.” You glared harshly at him and pushed him back.

“Ouch, those words would hurt if you meant them.”

“I do.”

“Nah, I’m sure you’ll be taking them back real soon.” Snatching the clothes out of your hand, Sukuna threw them across the room. “Now hurry up, I’m tired of fucking waiting.”

The drive home was heavy with unspoken tension. Not a word was spoken from either of you, not that Sukuna particularly cared. He had the radio turned up to some blaring punk rock station, mouthing along to some of the songs and humming every so often.

Entering the house, your heart dropped at realizing it was just you two alone again. It was the middle of the work week and both your parents were out, and Yuji had university classes to attend. Only you and Sukuna, who had no school or job to go to, were in the house.

“My room, now.” Shoving you in the back, Sukuna nearly made you fall over.

“Hey!” He forced you up the stairs and to his room at the end of the hallway, knocking you into the closed door a few times as he fumbled to turn the knob.

“Home sweet home.” Sighing happily, Sukuna closed and locked the door behind him. You’d been in Sukuna’s room only once, when he wasn’t home and you had to collect a few things he’d ‘borrowed’ from your room.

There was an electric guitar and amp in the corner next to a desk covered with random papers and old fast food bags. Multiple overlapping posters were hung on the walls of different bands and strange art that Sukuna liked, along with a few gravure models above his bed. The faint smell of cigarettes and body wash clung to the air, making the dark room feel even darker.

“So, tell me why you left me.” Pushing you to the middle of the room, Sukuna walked around you in circles.

“You know why.”

“Mmm, I don’t think I do.” His voice sounded behind you, and in one swift motion he knocked you out at the knees and sent you to the floor. “Try again.”

“You know why!” You shouted at him, attempting to stand but his hands on your shoulders kept you on the ground.

“Try. Again.” Bending down to your line of sight, Sukuna stared at you with widened eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say! You fucked me, Sukuna! And- and I didn’t like it!” Immediately his hand was around your throat, constricting your airways and forcing you to sit up straight on your knees to try and breathe.

“Ya say you didn’t like it but then why’d you cum twice? Certainly weren’t saying you didn’t like it when I was fucking you so good. What were the words you said, ‘I love my big brother's cock’?” Tilting his head to the side, Sukuna let out a disappointed hum. “No, there has to be another reason and I think I know what it is.”

Letting you go, Sukuna straightened up and stared down his nose at you, a hollow look in his eyes as he watched you clutch your throat and gasp in air. Sometime during all this, your phone had fallen out onto the floor and Sukuna picked it up.

“You’re screwing around with a little boyfriend, aren’t you?”

“Wh-what? No I’m not.” You choked, lungs still burning.

“You didn’t want your big brother Sukuna to find out you were fucking cheating on him, right?” Waving your phone in front of your face, Sukuna jerked it out of reach when you tried to grab for it.

“Give it back, that’s not true!” You played the game of cat and mouse, desperately trying to get your phone back from him and leave the room. “Sukuna, it’s not true and you know it!”

“Liar.” Tossing your phone onto his bed, Sukuna grabbed your upper arms and forced you to stand. Stumbling back onto his bed he dragged you with him and as soon as he sat down he threw you across his lap.

A short grunt left your mouth as your chest collided with his legs, hands scrambling on the bed to try and drag yourself off. Sukuna kept a tight grip around your middle, yanking your bottoms and panties off in one go.

“Suku-” Your cry was cut off by a hard slap against your ass, hot pain shooting across your body and only getting worse when he landed a hand on your other cheek.

“You fucking bitch. Do you hate me now?” Sukuna huffed, smacking you again and putting more of his weight into it. Your bottom was already stinging and with each smack that landed it only made it worse.

“S-sukuna! Stop, stop-” Tears were easily streaming out of your eyes and dripping into his mattress. Your feet beat against the bed, trying in vain to stop him from hitting you again.

“You’ve already forgotten your training too? Wow princess, I’m fucking disappointed.” Smacking you again, Sukuna yanked your shirt collar up, forcing you to rest on your elbows and look back at him. “What’re you supposed to call me?”

Squeezing your lips together, you shook your head hard. You couldn’t even focus fully on him with all the tears clouding your vision and there wasn’t a hope for you to actually speak either with the way you were hiccuping.

“Say it.” He barked, slapping the back of your thighs this time.

“Ow!”

“Oh so you can speak! What are you supposed to call me?”

“Big- big brother! Big brother, big brother!” Shaking your head harder, you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, trying to calm your frantic cries.

“Much fucking better.” Letting you fall back onto the bed, Sukuna hit you a few more times in rapid succession. “But it seems you’ve forgotten just who you belong to.” Without warning Sukuna shoved you off his lap and back onto the floor.

Landing on your ass, you yelped loudly and flipped over onto your stomach, the cool air in the room doing nothing for how hot and irritated your skin was now. It hurt and there was no hiding it, your crying the only sound in the room.

“Quit your crying, you dumb baby. I went easy on you, you should feel grateful.” Walking over you, Sukuna dug through his dresser before procuring a large black t-shirt. Holding it up to the light, he smiled and tossed it down to you.

“Wh-what-?” Trembling fingers grabbed the shirt and turned it over, and you blinked hard to clear the tears and look at what was printed on the front.

“Like it? Had it specially made for you.” On the front of the shirt in big, bold white letters were the words ‘big brothers cumslut’. Sukuna didn’t wait for a response, taking in your horrified expression with glee as he stripped himself. “Go ahead, put it on.”

“Big brother…” You whined, coming to stand on your knees and keeping your ass away from your feet. Twisting the shirt in your hands, you couldn’t decide what was worse: the shirt or the fact that Sukuna was barely two feet from you with a hard cock only getting harder with his hand pumping it.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” He warned and walked past you to lay on the bed. Hanging your head, you stood up and whined again, grabbing the edges of your own shirt and lifting it up. “There we go, nice and slow.”

Your body shook as you took your shirt and bra off, cheeks burning when Sukuna let out a low whistle and fisted his cock a few times at the sight of your naked body. Tears wet your lashes again as you slid the new shirt on, the words on it permanently branded your chest.

With a soft mutter, Sukuna pulled you over to him, moving you to straddle him with his cock nestled between your legs. Laying heavy hands on your hips, he pushed your ass flat against his thighs, not caring in the slightest about your pained squirming.

Humiliation clung to you like a second skin as the weight of the shirt settled on your body. Embarrassment burrowed deeply in your brain as the memories of being spanked by your big brother and crying like a baby took up space in your brain. There was already shame hanging over you from being fucked by Sukuna the first time and you thought it couldn’t get any bigger.

But when he maneuvered his cock between the lips of your cunt, pressing it flush against your wet sex without sticking it in and pushing and pulling your hips to grind against him, it increased tenfold.

Your hands slapped down onto his chest, whether you wanted to stop him or get more momentum was unknown even to you. It was deplorable the amount of your slick he was able to build up just by grinding you on his cock.

“You like that, stupid girl?” Sukuna groaned lightly, his lip caught between his teeth as he watched your cunt envelop him, the tip of his cock poking out every so often.

“I-” You struggled to answer. Every slide back brought the pain in your ass back to the forefront of your mind and every slide forward had sparks shooting up your spine at the way your clit rubbed against him.

“See, I just had to be a little mean to you, to teach you a lesson.” Sukuna kept talking, catching your hazy eyes but not really caring if you were listening. “Big brother just had to remind you of a few things, but as long as you’re good he won’t have to do it again.”

“O-okay.” Nodding your heavy head, you sniffled away the remaining tears. “M’sorry, brother.” You weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, the words just tumbling out of your mouth easily.

“Ooh princess.” Sukuna cooed, pouting his lip and lifting a hand to shake your head by the chin. “I know you are. That’s why you’re gonna make me feel real good to make it up.”

“Mhmm.” Sukunas hand dropped from your chin and grabbed onto your hips again and this time you moved with him. The slow push and pull of your hips picked up when you began to move on your own accord, gliding your cunt across his cock.

Seeing you move on your own, Sukuna let go of your hips and put his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers together and sighing contently. His lip caught between his teeth again watching you grind yourself on him.

“Big brother, I-” The pleasure you were getting from this was mind numbing, the direct stimulation on your clit combined with the hazy fog you were already in from getting spanked making you forget how to do anything except keep moving.

“So good for me, aren’t you.” Sukuna groaned and his arms shook as a jolt went up. “Just like that, keep going.”

“Brother…” All the pleasure you were getting was amazing, but you were growing needy. There was something you still needed, something the clenching of your empty cunt wouldn’t let you ignore.

Lifting yourself up with horribly shaky arms, your eyes were glued to Sukunas cock, glistening with your juices and absolutely rock hard. Stuffing part of the shirt in your mouth so you could see better, you grabbed Sukunas cock and attempted to guide it into your cunt.

“Aht, not so fast princess.” Snatching your hand off of him, Sukuna grabbed both your hands and held them up and away.

“Lemme go- I wanna- want your-” Your attempts at tugging your wrists free was weak and in vain. Sinking back, Sukuna’s cock resumed its previous spot hugged by your cunt.

“Don’t forget you were still a bad girl, you still need to learn your lesson.”

“Meanie.” Pouting down at him, you sloppily jutted your hips forward. The move made Sukuna’s breath hitch and you did it a few more times, rutting against him in a feeble attempt at getting back at him.

“You think you’re doing something but really you’re just gonna make me cum.” Squeezing your wrists one more time, Sukuna let them go and put his hands on your thighs. “And when I cum it’s all over.”

The implication of his words took several long seconds to reach your consciousness. If you wanted to cum, it would have to be this way, and it would have to be before Sukuna came. Slowing down, you tried to angle your hips forward to put more pressure on your clit.

“Don’t slow down now, keep going!” Catching on quickly, Sukuna smacked your thighs and squeezed them, forcing you back to the pace you were at earlier.

“Brother, please!” Digging the tips of your fingers into his chest, you tried to forcibly slow down.

“Quit being such a greedy brat and take what I give you.”

“Gimme- yo-your cock!” Gone was the shame that had clung to you so heavily. Nothing else mattered now except for the achingly empty feeling inside you desperate to be filled by your big brother's cock.

“You have it right here princess.” Sukuna grinned, thrusting his hips up. The sharp movement had your heavy head lolling forward and eyes screwing shut.

“Big brother, fuck.” Your chest heaved greatly as you fought to keep getting air into your lungs. Your shirt was bunched up by your waist, held in place by Sukuna so he could get an uninterrupted look at you humping him.

With renewed vigor you ground your hips against his as fast as you could, zealously chasing the pleasure that you could get from this moment. It had your toes curling and you were absolutely gushing around his cock, making the slide even easier.

A couple sharp, high pitched cries leave your lips just as Sukuna cums at the same time as you. His back arches up off the mattress, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. You don’t stop moving and Sukuna doesn’t let you, making you fuck him through both your orgasms.

Some of his cum catches on the front of your cunt, but most of it splatters across his crotch and lower stomach. Every thrust of your hips seems to push more out, spurting the sticky white fluid out in a disjointed pattern.

When the stupor of his orgasm wears off Sukuna lets you go, lets you fall forward and then to his side in a tired, mushy lump. As he catches his breath he watches your thighs twitch from the aftershocks of your orgasm, the shine of your slick cunt glaringly obvious to him.

Lazily, Sukuna grabs a few tissues of the bedside table and wipes himself clean. He would have had you do it and made you lick him clean, but he couldn’t trust you not to stick his soft cock into you and try to fuck him.

“Hey, princess this isn’t a fucking hotel.” He jerks your shoulder, forcing you to sit up and shake off the light sleep that had dusted across your eyes.

“What’re you doing?” You grumble, steadily growing annoyed as he forces you to your feet and towards the door.

“Good girls get to sleep in my bed, but you’re still on fucking punishment, remember?”

“You’re being mean, s’not fair!” Pushing back against him, you almost make it back onto his bed.

“Get out, you little bitch! Learn to act right and be a good girl.” Wrapping an arm under your breasts, Sukuna hoists you up and drags you out of his room, dumping you unceremoniously out into the hall.

A pitiful whine leaves you, but you gather yourself up and stand in front of him. You don’t even realize you’ve started crying until Sukuna rubs a rough hand across your face and wipes a few tears away.

“Shut up and go put your shit in your room.” You nod, lower lip trembling and sniffling loudly, but make no sign to move. Rolling his eyes, Sukuna slaps the doorframe. “Fine, since you’re being so pathetic, here’s a deal. Are you listening?”

“Y-yes.”

“If you go and put all your shit away you can come and lay down in my bed. Deal?” Crossing his arms over his chest, Sukuna tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for you to answer. “Well, do we have a fucking deal or not?”

“Yes.” Wiping your eyes again, you take a few steps back.

“Yes what?”

“Yes big brother.” There’s a pout on your lips as you say it and Sukuna swipes his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Good girl. Now get going, I don’t wanna have to come and get you again.” Giving your ass a pat and reminding you of the pain in your backside that had been pushed away, Sukuna grinned. With a quick nod you scurried away, feet landing heavy on the stairs as you went to grab your bag.

Man, did Sukuna love having such a good little sister or what?

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

I don’t really know him

ok so I’ve had this idea in my head forever. basically you’re a famous singer and go on the ellen show. 

also, here’s the art I imagine for the album cover. Just some simple art I made up!

the podcasts I mention are ones I actually listen to, and here’s the link to those!

conspiracy theories

in our time

warnings: like one swear word?

word count: 2.1k 

"It's so good to see you, Y/N!" Ellen smiled warmly at you. "Yes, you too," you beamed, shifting in the white chair. "I've been wanting to be on this show forever, you have no idea."

"Really?" She laughed. You nodded. "It's really an honor." "Well, we love to have you," she smiled again. "So what have you been up to these days?" "I've been pretty busy," you informed her. "I've been working a lot on my music." "Oh? Do we have a third album coming sometime soon?" You smiled, offering a small shrug. "I can neither confirm nor deny." "Well you can't just leave us with that!" You laughed. "I will say there is definitely a third album in the works. I'm saying absolutely nothing about the timeline, though," you said, making the motion of zipping your lips. "Really?" She leaned forward, intrigued. "Could we possibly hear some details of this album?" "I've already said too much," you sat back in your chair, grinning. "Well, if that's all you're going to say..." She looked at you expectantly, as if you would just crack and spill all the details. You just smiled, shaking your head. She sighed dramatically. "I guess we'll move on." "I think that's wise," you nodded. "I did want to talk about your second album." She pulled out a record, the big album cover being shown on the screen behind her as well. "I really enjoyed this, by the way. It's very good." "Thank you," you said, your face heated up at her compliments. "It's good to know people liked it. I really put myself out there for that one." "You did!" She said, looking back down at the artwork. "It was very personal." You bit your lip, nodding. "It was definitely a lot more so than the first one, which was kind of scary, if I'm being honest." "Yeah, well that's understandable," she nodded. "Was there a certain someone these songs were written about? I couldn't help but notice some of these are very much... love songs." You smiled again. "I'm afraid that's another question I can neither confirm nor deny." "Yeah, I had a feeling you'd say that." You nodded, trying to keep the flush off your face. There definitely was a certain someone those songs were about. They were about Harry. Every single one of them was about him, and you knew for a fact the songs on his newest album were about you. No one else knew, though. You two had done a good job keeping your relationship secret. It was annoying at times, but neither of you wanted to deal with the stress of the public trying to know every detail of your relationship. "Now, it's time for a few burning questions," she said, setting the album down in front of her. "Oh, delightful," you sighed playfully. "Oh, quiet, this will be fun." "Will it?" you joked, but leaned forward nonetheless. "Definitely," she picked up a stack of cards. "First- what is your favorite food?" "Ooh, I have to say alfredo. Or... like, fudge." "Fudge?" "Yeah, it's super good." "Good to know," she laughed, looking at the next card. "What is your lockscreen?" You had to bite your tongue to keep the smile off your face. Truthfully, it was a picture of Harry. He had his hair up in a clip, looking like a little tree on top of his head. But obviously, you couldn't say this. Thankfully, you had left your phone in your dressing room, so there was no way anyone would see. "My dog," you lied. This had been true for a long time; at least until you started dating Harry. "Aw, that's cute!" You nodded with a small smile, thinking of how cute your lockscreen really was. "Who is your favorite musician?" "Uh... I don't- like, as a person? Or their music? I could go a lot of directions with this," you chuckled. "Let's just go with... as a person." "Oh boy, there's quite a lot of those," you smiled. "I really admire a lot of people, truly. A few that come to mind, I guess... Megan thee Stallion, obviously-" You were cut off by loud cheering. You grinned out at the audience, laughing at their excitement. "See, they agree," you gestured out in front of you. "I just love her energy. And Lizzo, one hundred percent. I've gotten closer with both of them in the past few years, and I cherish their friendship. They're both wonderful people. Oh, I've met Taylor Swift a few times, and I love her so much, she's so kind." "Wow, you're moving up in the world," she smiled. "I don't know," you blushed again. "Don't be so humble, you're one of the big names now!" "I don't really like to think of it that way," you admitted. "Honestly, I just like making music. I'm so blessed to be able to do what I love." "And we're blessed to be able to hear it," she said with a sincere smile. "What about the other way? Who do you like, for their music specifically?" "Um, I'm into a lot of different stuff, I don't really have a specific artist or genre I like," you lied again. Lately, you had only been listening to Harry's music. "Really?" She seemed surprised. You nodded. "There is one, though, Charlotte Sands. I actually first heard her song, Dress, on TikTok and got really into more of her stuff." This wasn't actually a lie. You liked the song when you first heard it, and even more when you found out who it was about. "Oh, I've heard Dress! It's a very nice song," Ellen nodded. "But next question! What do you do when you can't sleep?" "I usually listen to a podcast." "What podcast do you listen to?" "Conspiracy theories. But not like, in a weird way," you laughed. "And also not to sleep." "Not to sleep?" "No, they're too interesting for that. When I'm trying to sleep, I listen to one by the BBC. I just play it really quietly so it's just background noise." "Interesting," she nodded. "But I'm more interested in the conspiracy theories. Not in a weird way?" She laughed. "No, not in like a crazy way," you clarified with a smile. "Like, I'm not super into them, but I'm kind of like, who knows?" You finished with an exaggerated shrug. Ellen laughed, along with the audience. "Well, it's good to know it's not in a crazy way." You nodded, still smiling. "But speaking of conspiracy theories..." She paused, leaning forward. "Harry Styles." You nodded, waiting for her to continue, and laughed lightly when she didn't. "Yes? What about him?" "Well, just what's your opinion?" You chuckled, raising your eyebrows. "My opinion? I don't really have an opinion, I don't really know him," you lied again. You most definitely did know him. "Well, just on what you've heard. He won a Grammy recently, did you know this?" "I did know this," you nodded. "And I don't know, I've heard he's a lovely person. I do like his music, actually." "Really? I thought you two were close. Judging from these pictures," you looked behind you, eyes going wide when you realized what they were. About a month ago, you and Harry had finally gone out together for the first time. It had been a simple outing; you had gone into a coffee shop to get some drinks. Harry had sat at the table while you ordered, then you walked out before him with both cups. He followed you a few minutes after, meeting up at a corner down the street. You tried to take as many precautions as you could so you wouldn't be spotted together, and you had really thought it worked. You had both been wearing masks, so you didn't think anyone would notice. Since that was so long ago, you thought you had gotten away with it. Apparently not. There was no denying that it was you and Harry, and there was no denying the love in your eyes as you looked at him. He was the same; he looked absolutely infatuated with you. "Um," you shifted in your seat, turning back to face Ellen. She had an excited grin on her face. "I always thought you two would be cute together." "Did you?" You asked, trying desperately not to blush more than you already were. You really didn't know how to react. You had been so careful, or so you thought. How had this picture not been leaked sooner? Ellen must have had this planned for a long time. She nodded. "So, it seems you do know him pretty well. Care to give us any more details? Are you two... official?" "Unfortunately, I think you know what I'm going to say," you managed to smile again. "I can neither-" She spoke over you. "Confirm nor deny, yes, I know," she sighed playfully. "Next question, then!" Once the interview was over, you rushed back to your dressing room. Just as you expected, you had at least 22 texts from Harry. Sighing, you unlocked your phone to read them. "Shit" "I'm so sorry" "I have no idea how they got that" "I know you wanted to keep this secret" "I'm so sorry they found out" "How did they get those?" "Why weren't those released earlier?" "Did Ellen plan this?" "She must have planned this" "I'm so sorry" "You were right, we should have been more careful" "I can say we're just friends if you want" "I can do an interview with Ellen next week" "I can lie" "I'll say whatever you want" "I'm so sorry" "This is my fault" You couldn't help but laugh, imagining how panicked he was while typing these. You weren't even that upset. You knew your relationship would come out sometime. Not wanting to make him suffer any longer, you tapped the call icon. He picked up on the first ring, not even saying hello before he was apologizing. "Baby, I'm so sorry, I feel awful, I know you didn't want anyone to know, but it's ok, I'm going to get an interview soon and I can-" "Harry," you cut him off. "It's ok. Really. I knew this would happen sooner or later, it's ok." "Really? You looked upset earlier." "I was flustered," you laughed. "And a little shocked. But I'm ok now. It's fine, I promise. Besides, now we don't have to hide all the time. We can go out in public if we want to." You could practically hear the smile in his voice when he answered. "Finally, I can take you out on a proper date, just like you deserve." You grinned. "Sounds perfect. I'm actually leaving here soon, do you want to meet at the coffee shop?" "I'd love to." "See you soon, then. Love you!" "I love you too." -----

“Really, though? “I don’t have an opinion, I don’t really know him?” A little rude, if I’m being honest.”

You laughed, swatting at his shoulder playfully across the table. “I didn’t know what to say! I panicked. I wanted to say “Oh yeah, Harry? I’m actually in love with him. He’s my favorite person in the entire world, and we’ve been dating for a year.” But I figured that was a little tactless.”

“Maybe a little,” he smiled, blushing at your compliments. “I can’t blame you, though. You probably handled it better than I would have.”

You laughed. “It was really hard! Every single question. She asked who my music was about. It’s about you! She asked what my lockscreen was. It’s you. She asked who my favorite artists are! Again, you.”

“Oh yeah, very sneaky with that Charlotte Sands song,” he chuckled. “A good hint. Do you think anyone will catch that?”

“Oh, definitely,” you smiled. “Your fans are literally the FBI.”

“Sometimes,” he agreed. “But they can’t be that good, since none of them found out about us.”

“True,” you nodded. “They’re losing their skills.”

“Oh, tragic,” he pouted. “Whatever will we do without being stalked every minute of our lives?”

“Maybe we could, you know, just live like normal people for a day.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

[iphoenixrising]

DickTim Week 2021: Day 5 Winged!Talon Tim au

So. another dual prompt and I really regret nothing about this one tbh. I took tomorrow’s Talon and today’s Wings and made a Winged!Talon!Tim fic. Of course, I talked to the wonderful babes on Capes & Coffee about a what if combination and this just, whew. Careful, it might break your heart a little, but damn if it isn’t an interesting idea.

Not beta read, so don't be a hater :D

Previous Talon!Tim universe posts: The initial idea, Babe and I talking it out, Talon Training Ask, Ra’s vs the Court, Talon and Ra’s, Talon and Ra’s take 2, Talon and Shiva short.

**

Watching B take on the new and improved Talon is really the entertainment of the year.

Once upon a time it had taken all of them plus more to take down as much of the Court of Owls as humanly possible. Of course, like rats, the Bats knew there would be no way to get the entire Court or all the Talons, not when the upper echelons of Gotham had spent the better part of 200 years creating, storing, training, and obtaining more.

Politicians were investigated, corrupt cops removed, and criminals burrowed underground once word of what the capes did to save the day got passed around.

For the first time in years, crime in Gotham was at an all time low.

But, as the coin flip dictates, nothing good lasts forever. Trouble is always brewing below the surface to eventually rise to the top and try to take over.

Case in point:

The Bats of Gotham have come up against a new threat wearing the signature Talon armor, and the call goes out to all available capes for help taking on the undead mercenary before another crime family ends up in the Obituaries rather than Blackgate.

The fact the Court is still up and running after the Batfamily took them down in a fiery blaze that ended with all their Talons gone, Sensei exposed, and most the ruling families imprisoned or poisoned by Lincoln March, is like a kick to the abdomen after they closed that particular book. Worse, with a new Talon soldier is sighted running around Gotham, another circus kid has been kidnapped and turned into the right hand of the Court of Owls. Dick, with his absolute survivors guilt, is the one to make going after the Talon and whoever is still behind the scenes a top priority.

Which is how they find themselves in the middle of Knight’s Stadium facing down a Talon that is too short to be March. Red Hood, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl, and Black Bat pretty much got their asses handed to them in the first twelve minutes. Pretty hard to understand until you take into account the new and improved Talon facing them now is terrifying in a completely different way than most undead assassins are.

He knows them.

He knows them in ways that lets him fight fast and furious with vicious accuracy, striking at weaknesses few of the vigilantes of Gotham realized they even had.

He isn't as big as Lincoln or even Cobb, not nearly as old. He hasn't been kept in cryostasis waiting for the next generation to need his skills. He doesn't have creaks in his joints from being put on deep freeze too many times.

This one is silent and efficient, obviously trained in multiple types of martial arts, is highly proficient with or without the standard Talon knives, is a master tactician, counters the majority of their moves with alarming consistency–

and the fucking Talon has wings.

Honest-to-God wings.

Everyone had assumed the metal monstrosities on his back were weapons of some kind, but the glint of steel in the streetlight flash a warning before the lumps moved in an arch, extending far out past his shoulder blades, slicing into Red Hood’s body suit with a razor-sharp edge, shredding the armor like paper.

It’s not enough he’s got weapons obviously made specifically for his skill set, it’s not enough he’s an assassin and doesn’t hold to the same standards of non-lethal combat, it’s not enough that he can use his wings to fly or to fight like he’s using another limb to kick the shit out of them, and it’s not enough that he effortlessly counters so many of their attacks that he has to have some kind of inside information on all of them and their fighting styles.

The knives are definitely a thing when the Talon can throw them hard enough to penetrate parts of their suits in between armored plating, which further drives the theory that this is a person they’ve dealt with before. Intimately. Few people in the world know how their suits are made. Even more, few people know particulars enough when their suits are constantly reconstructed.

The only thing on their side that tipped the scales in their favor–

–the Batman.

The wings threw him off his game, obviously, but not enough to stop B from holding his own with swift and merciless force.

It's like watching a dance of fast and furious fists, blades in Talon's hands glinting deadly in the night, finding B's suit over and over and over until he's made it to blood and bone. He takes every hit the Batman can dish out, head snapping back, left, and right with the volley of jaw-breaking blows and bone-shattering kicks.

None of it gives the Talon pause. When a move makes him drop a blade, another is already in hand, cutting into their body suits, wings flipping out to defend or distract, sweeping moves and well coordinated attacks.

The unnatural appendages are like another arm, another leg, an extension working on the same central nervous system, regardless as to how the Court managed to make it happen.

A jump kick off a trash can is a lucky shot as a wing catches B in the ribs hard enough to knock him into the wall of Mike's Famous Hotdogs. The only thing saving the Dark Knight from a concussion or permanent brain damage is the plating in his cowl.

It gives the Talon enough time to make a final bid for a battered Nightwing, Red Hood, and Robin struggling to their feet again, eyes for their fallen mentor.

Before he can lunge forward to start the attack yet again, the Talon just stops, pauses like he’s stuck or something, and in the span of a breath, both wings extend fully, flap powerfully once to propel him up into the Gotham night.

O tries her best to track his flight through the city, but no one’s arms are working well enough to toss a tracker on him.

She loses him over Cape Carmine, slams her palms against her system in frustration, makes sure she gets as much footage from the confrontation as possible.

After some sleep and a whole lot of bandages and ice packs, the Bat family meets in the Cave to watch the footage, breakdown the Talon’s fighting style, his weaponry, and make theories on his identity.

O helps out with readings she has of electronic pulses she managed to capture coming from the armor over his wings. She thinks she might be able to use it to track him if they can get close enough for her equipment to ping the signal again.

B makes a trip to Arkham since Freeze apparently hasn’t stopped producing the formula used to put Talons in cryostasis.

It’s not until Gotham’s power grid has a massive surge that O and the Bats can pinpoint a possible location, all of them invested in one hell of a fight to get the last rats still scurrying in the underground.

The plan of attack comes together smoothly once they’ve scoped out the location, seen the shady activity, and together, they make one hell of a plan.

**

And because, you know, Gotham, it is completely normal for the Court of Owl's headquarters to have a skylight.

Natch.

For this one, they've got Batgirl and Black Bat, Red Hood and Robin, Nightwing and B, a real family affair.

O's quiet voice over comms leading them through the maze of traps and empty rooms, abandoned libraries and spooky ball rooms. The laboratory isn't the most horrific they've all ever seen (because the Joker's summer place is literally the stuff of nightmares), but a few of them do gag on the smell alone.

The plan, however, goes horribly awry when the clear sounds of tormented screaming echoes from right under their reinforced bootheels.

Black Bat's fists clench hard, her breathing wheezes out when the tone, the utter agony goes right through her.

A shudder slides up Robin's spine as all of them turn toward the noise.

Without a flicker or a word, the Batman moves, strafing in the shadows toward the sound. He can't assume it's an innocent civilian with something the Court wants, but he's betting on the fact that scream will lead them to whoever is running the show.

The medieval room has bars and reinforced locks, implements hanging on the wall. The cement brick is stained rust colored with old blood, the vestiges of training, and the awful realization they've found another hidden niche in the city that always existed right under their noses is punctuated with the abrupt drop in temperature, with the sudden charge in the air, with the zzzzcrack snapping beyond the door, replaced with a muted buzzing Robin can feel in his back teeth.

B is already on his way to the roof, Batgirl down through the floor vent while Nightwing picks the locks with fast precision, knocking the tumblers around.

Robin and Red Hood stay close to the reinforced door, balancing on the balls of their feet, katana and .45s at the ready.

Black Bat takes the high road, ceiling tiles giving way under her Bat-a-rang. She gives a sharp nod before she's up and gone.

"All right. Ready?" Nightwing stands, cracks his neck, flips his escrimas in both hands, works his shoulders to prepare for the strain of each blow he plans to give.

"Ya betcha ass," Hood murmurs low, a cut figure with both guns at his sides, gloved fingers on the trigger guard.

"Don't disappoint," Robin snarls, "either of you."

"Nice pep talk, squirt," Nightwing snickers.

"Tt, back up your mouth with action."

"Better shuddap, Demon. Golden Boy ain't fuckin' 'round. Neither is the Bat. We get one more chance a' this asshole. We ain't gonna blow it again, ya feel me?"

"Finally, something we agree on, Hood."

"Other than N's shitty mullet?"

Nightwing swiftly glares at them both over his shoulder, unconsciously putting himself front and center of the trio, ready to be the first in once they get the signal.

– which is the sound of the glass raining down from the heavens.

Three booted feet kick the door hard enough to take it off the hinges, lying against the faded stains like a fallen body.

First step in the room is the complete opposite to what they'd all been expecting.

The two Owl masks aren't the usual, but a perversion of the originals, crudely drawn yawning mouths complete with fangs dripping blood.

But.

The boy on his knees, arms in a binder holding the appendages hostage at a painful angle, is dripping the real thing. Rivulets down his chest and where his back is partially visible. Some from the base of the wings going into the back of his shoulder blades where the skin is torn and raw.

The bar gag shoved in his mouth doesn't take away from the splatters on his chin, the bruising on his face, the swollen eye. But it's his wings that makes the Bats falter from the initial rushing attack.

His wings are without the armor, are bound straight up above his restrained body with hooks grotesquely puncturing through the downy softness, desecrating the beauty with blood and gore. The angle makes the pull to his back where the wings are part of him just another agony on top of atrocity.

"Fuck," from the first Owl mask, and a swift move frees the Talon's bound arms, the appendages flopping uselessly to the floor, only his trapped, tortured wings keeping him up on his knees.

The second Owl shoves the first back, "let him take care of them. Let's get out of here!"

The first Owl snarls out something low and foreign, the phrases rolling off his tongue.

The words lock into place, and the Talon's head snaps up, snarling around the gag in his mouth.

When his face is finally, finally visible, the protectors of Gotham are frozen in their tracks.

Familiar violet-blue eyes, too-long blue-black hair, cut jawline and pointed nose. Tiny scar on his right cheek from the time he caught Ra's al Ghul's ring across the face.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," is barely heard through the Red Hood's synths and in no way fully expresses his utter horror at what these dirty motherfuckers have done.

Robin wretches, bile burning the back of his throat once those eyes swing up to the masked parody of the Owls and his bare upper body is visible through the blood and sweat on his chest, when the scars peeking through on his collar bones form a half-visible Y-incision, when the coloring of the bared wings now makes sense (robin's wings, Damian Wayne thinks with his heart beating pitter patter fast, and his stomach in knots, they put robin's wings on him...).

And the hurt, agonized noise coming out of Nightwing's chest is the only noise he can make when those dimmed, dazed eyes swing from the Owls back to the vigilantes frozen in their spots, when there's no spark of joy or fondness or stubbornness he's so used to seeing staring him down.

The errant thought, the first instinct, is the only humane way to deal with this new Talon is to put him down for good wars with the man behind the mask that only wants to reach out, wants to pull the Talon into his body and curve over, to scream at the injustice of it all, to rail at himself for not even suspecting.

Another switch flipped and the hooks release his wings, blood splattering on top the old stains.

"Get them! Don't fuck it up this time or you won't get another chance," the second Owl shoves the Talon's injured shoulder in the direction of the horrified vigilantes.

They don't even bother to take the gag out of his mouth before setting him on his target.

A flap of wings, and the Talon is on his feet again, swaying only slightly. He's in the boots and pants from earlier, the rest of his uniform tossed carelessly behind him by his tormentors. A sweep of his feet and the knives glint in bare palms, a whisper of a sound.

The curved, clawed blade glints in the overhead light when the Talon raises it and cuts the strap of the bar gag in his bloody mouth, turns his head to spit it out without looking away from the vigilantes.

The Batman, grim and stoic in the face of this surprising turn of events, gives the barest nod. From her hiding spot behind the complex machinery, Black Bat takes off after the running Owl members, leaving the rest of the family to deal with their former third Robin.

The wings flinchingly flare out and their former bird hunches over, ready for the attack.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait,” the Red Hood removes the helmet, leaves the domino underneath. He keeps one hand out in peace, slowly dipping down to put his helmet on the ground. “Is us, Tim. Timmy. Baby Bird. Is us. Yer family. Gotta lookit us, yeah?”

For the first time, the Talon speaks, “who’s Tim?”

And then he lunges.

**

The fight happens very differently this time.

The former power behind the punches is obviously dulled with the Talon’s identity reveal. He doesn’t hold back, is utterly ruthless with his attacks. He takes out B’s right knee, puts Hood down on the stained floor, knocks Robin into the wall with crushing force, and slams Batgirl’s head off the operating table.

He stands over Nightwing, wicked blade in hand and robin’s wings spread wide. He takes a knee, the sharp edge right above N’s adam’s apple, staring down impassively into the whiteouts.

“Timmy,” N spits blood, grunting when one knee pins his arm down. “Timmy, please. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I love you and I’m sorry they did this to you.”

Those eyes don’t change in the slightest. “You should not have tried to oppose the Owls.”

“We beat them once,” Nightwing gasps, “and you helped us, Baby Bird. You were with us then, don’t you remember.”

“I was nothing before the Court perfected me,” the Talon replies emotionlessly.

“You were perfect before they ever touched you.”

“No,” and the Talon leans down, puts them a breath away. “The only thing you and those others do is put the criminals back in prison, back in Arkham for them to escape again, for them to kill and destroy over and over again. Like this, I can stop them permanently.”

“Oh Timmy,” and behind the whiteouts, Nightwing’s eyes spill over, his vision wavery. “Timmy–”

“Don’t call me that. Stop calling me that.”

“You know me, you know us. You have to remember–”

“Lies. All of it lies!”

Nightwing’s chest stutters, his fist clenching, “it’s not. None of it is. Not even this–”

And he’s fast enough to grab the back of the Talon’s neck, to lean up enough against the blade pressed against his throat, can bring their mouths together, can kiss him like he’s dying and the Talon is the only thing that can save him.

It’s sloppy and awkward because the Talon doesn’t know what’s happening, gasps against the vigilante’s mouth. The tongue sliding over his, the muffled moan in his mouth sparks something in the back of his brain where the Court of Owls could never touch.

When Nightwing pulls back, stares up at wide violet-blue eyes, when the blade falls away to clatter against the block, when the Talon’s mouth trembles and tears fill his eyes, when his wings flutter and falter, fold in on them both, when his voice goes hoarse with, “D-Dick?” Nightwing throws both arms around his waist and holds on.

[thebeebi]

your little games pt. 6

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings: fluff in later chapters, smut, non-con, mention of r*pe attempt, implied murder and many more! Read only if you are okay with these topics!

genre: historical AU, 18th century?

word count: 3.8k+ [part 6] 

a/n: I am posting a bit later today. I am sorry but I hope you will enjoy this part!  I was too busy to check grammar, so I am sorry if you see any mistakes. English is not my first language. :) Enjooooy ♥

taglist: @njrwifey​ @danietoww04​ [If you want to be added, just let me know :)]

You ran away from the man who tried to take an advantage of you. You stabbed him and escaped. Escaped to the arms of the handsome captain who was even worse than the man you just killed.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

You could see him smirking even in the darkness. His teeth were showing and the bright white colour pulled your eyes in. “That is not necessary,” He came closer to you and you felt like your heart was about to jump out of your body. The familiar voice made your knees go weak and you were about to fall down. With a scream, lord Black was ready to save you from falling but Jungkook’s strong arms held you still. He let go of you soon enough seeing the older man pulling the chair for you to sit down. “Are you okay?” Lord Black was worried about your well-being but your aunt hit her fist on the table. “Don’t spoil her, Lord Black.” You looked down on the chair and shook your head slightly showing him that you do not want to sit on it. Lord Black frowned and looked at your aunt. “I am sure she deserves to sit down after living with you. She deserves to relax.” With trembling fingers, he removed hair from your forehead. “You scared me, Y/N.” You looked into the lord’s eyes and whispered. “I am sorry.“ Suddenly you had the need to cover your already clothed body. You knew the feeling. You felt Jungkook’s hungry eyes on your body who was already taking off your clothes with the sight. You were about to say something but your aunt interrupted you telling you what to do. “Now tell us again what happened. Lord Black wants to know all the details because he wants to be sure there is no injustice towards captain Jeon. To put it simply, he does not want to make the captain Jeon father of your bastard when there is a possibility of it… well, not being his.“ Lord Black exhaled and pressed his lips together not wanting to sound rude. “Dear lady, I am sure I can speak for myself. So please, let me do that.” With that, he turned to you and held your hands in his. “Y/N, tell me.” He started hesitantly. “I have my honour and I cannot force captain Jeon to be the father of your child, while I am not one hundred percent sure, that he is the father. So tell me, was there some el-“ He wanted to continue but you shook your head as the answer. “There was no one else. When I left his ship, one man of his crew got me a carry and with that, I came to my aunt’s house. My aunt is the witness when I came there.” You looked down and your aunt stood up hitting the table once again. “And when she came in, I did not let her out of my sight.“ Your aunt smirked as if proud that she made you into the prisoner. “What about before that?” You shook your head and Jungkook who was the entire time completely silent tilted his head to the side and smiled proudly. “I am the father.” Your aunt giggled and turned to the lord Black. “See? He admitted that.” Lord Black sighed and nodded. “I should have taken Y/N away from you all these years ago, she would have not suffered with me.” The aunt’s eyebrows furrowed. “It is not my fault that she’s s slut. She shouldn’t have gone to bed with that man-“ She was mad but you could not take it. Not when you knew all she was saying was not the truth. “No!” You screamed which surprised everyone in the room but your aunt did not hesitate and walked towards you slapping you right across the cheek. She forgot she had a ring on her finger which caused your skin to tear a little near your lips and a little cut was filled with the blood.

You could hear a jar hitting the table loudly from behind you after the harsh slap. It surprised the lord and he backed away from Jungkook who placed his hand on the table and stared at your aunt. His cold deep voice caused you to run your hand down to your stomach. “Madam, I believe you are behaving more than inappropriate. You act like a savage, if you were a man, I would ask you to repay for what you just did. You touched something that belongs to me.” He was mad and you knew it. After that one night, you knew what you could do and could not, but your aunt did not know as much. “It will be better if Y/N went to the bed. She is tired and confused.” You were relieved that you might finally go since Jungkook said that he was the father and he wanted you to go. You stood up, passing by your aunt ready to leave the room but your aunt changed the plans. “No! She will stay here since she caused all of this! I kept on telling her that her body is the art of the devil. No normal woman would cause this trouble. Just look at her body.” She grabbed your dress and with a swift pull she ripped them apart letting the material fall to your feet.

Jungkook who was sitting the whole time stood up so quickly it caused the chair to fall. With fast steps, he walked towards the opposite side of the room. Your aunt got scared when she looked at him, she remembered that she always called you a slut and witch, but this man was Lucifer. She tried to put oh her hand to protect herself but Jungkook swiftly pulled down his cloak ignoring her. The captain wrapped the material around your body after seeing you wrap your arms around yourself to cover the nakedness. You felt the heaviness of his cloak which was soaked due to the heavy rain. You were shaking but not because of the coldness but because he was so close. Him being close scared you more than anything else in this world. “Enough,” Jungkook said coldly. “This woman has my child and I am responsible for everything. I will not return home right away but will stay here for a bit more. I will look for the house for her and for the stuff that will serve there. I will provide everything for Y/N.” He turned away from you looking at your aunt. “I wanted this to be my last voyage, but I will return once a year to provide for her and my child.” He walked towards the aunt and frowned. “I have to do that because she cannot stay with her abusive family anymore. I am worried they might hurt my child too. I am warning you madam, do not touch the girl while she is in your care, or you will regret it.” Then Jungkook’s sight when to the older male in the room and sighed. “I am done here, when you will need something, then find me on my ship.“ With that Jungkook walked out of the room. As he passed you by you noticed his handsome face that was frowning and realised there he did not talk about the marriage. He said that he would take care of you and your child but never mentioned the word marriage. He will make you a mistress. Just as he wanted. You froze still once you heard your aunt’s words. “Once we will be done with him, he will not act to mighty.“ You heard her giggling and lord Black’s sigh. “I hate doing what you want, madam but I have to. For Y/N. But let me tell you, you should listen to captain Jeon. He is hot-tempered. It would be better if you did not touch Y/N anymore. Not like you had any good reason to anyways.“ He looked at you once he heard your aunt. “He has no right to command me around. I will do whatever I want. I will do whatever I want to her.” Lord Black come closer to you and pat your head gently turning again towards your aunt. “You are wrong, madam. He has every right to do so. He is the father of the child and in a few hours, he is going to be Y/N’s husband.“

The gentle sun rays came through the windows that still had residue raindrops of last night’s rain and touched your face. You covered your face with the right arm and turned to the side groaning. You covered your head with the blanket and tried to continue dreaming about your father and mother who were smiling.  You knew you were awake and were not happy about it but you uncovered your face and inhaled the fresh air that came through the window. For the first time in a long time, you did not feel morning sickness and it honestly surprised you. You sat up opening your eyes wide. You realised where you were and looked to the side to see Jungkook’s cloak on the arm of the chair. “Idiot,“ you mumbled remembering last night’s event where you met him once again. “He thinks, that he can just buy me a home and keep me there as a mistress. I’d rather chose to give birth to my son as a prostitute than being his …well whatever.“ You said to yourself, thinking about Jungkook and his plan. I am sure he is thinking of how he is going to take me to his bed again. He for sure thinks that I will be glad for everything and I will let him do anything he wants. But he is wrong! You huffed and hit the innocent blanket then pushed it away. If he thinks that I will let him touch me he is wrong. I will not let him see his child grow inside me. The anger was speaking but even more the fear. You were scared that he would not be gentle and might hurt a little baby inside you. He wanted to take you as a mistress saying that he would treat you nicely, but you were sure if by any chance they will make him marry you, he would hate you. He would be angry and he would take you right there, even if it would be in the middle of the room.

Soon you could hear the soft knock on the door and because you did not want to wear his cloak, you pulled the sheet off the bed and wrapped yourself into it. With that, you walked towards the door and opened them. You saw an older woman standing in front of you. “Hello miss, I am Ms Moon,” with a smile she introduced herself and made her way inside the room. When you were about to close the door, she pointed at the door. “these girls are going to help you with anything you need.” Suddenly a few girls bowed to you that you did not notice before. “We came here because lord Black asked us to help you with the wedding.” You weren’t sure if you heard her correctly. Wedding? You felt a stinging pain in your heart and you had to hold the door handle tighter to support yourself. The fear came back and you tried your best not to show Ms Moon how scared you were. Your legs were shaking, but she did not notice it. Instead, she looked around the room not looking at you and asked happily. “Have you eaten already, my dear?” She turned to you waiting for the answer. A little “No,” escaped your lips. You walked towards the closest chair and sat down on it, not knowing if you would be able to stand any longer. The older woman did not notice your pale face and decided to make your bed while explaining to you. “Don’t worry then, I will send one of the girls to get you something for breakfast. We cannot let you be hungry during the most important moment of your life.“ Your expression was blank. You knew what was happening but did not want to accept reality. You covered your face with both hands and rubbed them frustrated. “When is the wedding?” She turned to you confused wondering why did you not know about your own wedding. “In the afternoon,” She smiled and realised they may have wanted to surprise you. How foolish of the woman but after all, not everyone had to know the real reason behind your quick marriage.  You sighed and nodded. “I think they did not want to tell you exactly when because they want to surprise you. I bet your groom is eager to marry you. You are so beautiful, my dear.” She giggled but you did not listen to her. Your only thoughts went to the man you feared and how soon you will be laying in his bed again. How you are going to feel his breath on your lips and his hands on your body. Even though you were scared, the thoughts brought a blush to your cheeks at the imagination. He won’t be gentle. he won’t care if he hurts me. Nervously you stood up and walked to the window. When you realised you caused the tension in the room, you bit your lower lip trying to calm yourself. You wished there would be more time before it actually happens but here you are, just a few hours before the wedding ceremony.

It was lunchtime when the maids brought to you your last meal as a single woman. You were pretending to be hungry and took bites of the bread and kept throwing other things to the stay dog that was on the street through the window. When they took the dishes away and started brushing your hair, Ms Moon came closer and sprayed you with perfume. “I know you are beautiful, but either way this perfume will make your husband want you even more.“ She winked at you took out the white dress wife of lord Black sent you. You looked at the beautiful dress sighing. It was beautiful and if there would be another occasion, you would be happy to wear it. You would feel like in a fairytale in that kind of dress, but this is not the fairytale and you were not even hoping for a happy ending. They finished putting on your clothes and you did not even realise they were done until you heard the older lady gasping. “There is no prettier woman than you, my dear.” You were apathetic. You did not care how you looked like since you know what is going to happen to this dress. It is going to be ripped apart once I walk into the same room as my soon-to-be husband.

You turned to the door once you heard a knock and nodded to the maid letting her know that she could open them. Your aunt walked in and smirked when she saw you. “I see that you are all dressed up. I bet you are thinking how beautiful you look, am I right? But honestly, you don’t look any better than you looked like in my dress. Still like trash!” Ms Moon who was smiling at first frowned and stood in front of you. “Excuse me, madam, but I believe what you are saying is highly inappropriate. I have never seen a more beautiful girl, than Y/N.” Your aunt tilted the head to the side raising her eyebrows and replied. “She is the devil’s daughter. Her beauty is his work and no man that will see her will find peace. She only brings disaster. The man she is marrying is the devil just like herself!“ She spat the last sentence and Ms Moon held your hand squeezing it. “This girl is an angel” You were honestly glad that someone thought of you like that but when your aunt opened her mouth again, you froze. “Angel?! I bet you do not know the real reason why she is getting married so quickly!” She was about to continue but Ms Moon interrupted her. “Because her husband wants her to be his as soon as possible. That is why!”  Your aunt was ready to tell her the truth but stopped. You wondered if it was because she did not want to embarrass herself or because of the fear she felt thanks to Jeon Jungkook’s aura. The aunt inhaled as if to try to calm down and smiled fakely. “I have to admit, I will be happy once you are gone out of my life.” She spat looking at you. “Taking care of you was no pleasure.” You backed away after she hit you with hateful words. You did not expect that even though you knew she was always harsh. The tears in your eyes caused you to turn to the window once again. You did not want her to see how much the words hurt you. For the last ten years, you did not feel any love from your family. You wanted to feel it but was okay with no affection. Now all you wanted was love for your unborn child, but you were also worried Jungkook would not love him. You did not want your child to hate you just because you forced his father to marry you. You wished for your little baby to always love you. You were worried you would not be loved again in your life. You closed your eyes tightly preventing the tears to fall down and your hand slid down to your belly. You wanted to protect the little one growing inside even if it meant throwing yourself away. “It is the time, my dear.”  Ms Mood said smiling but there was also a hit of worry in her eyes. She was sure you were going to better hands than your aunt’s but it still did not sit right with her. She shook her head wanting to throw away the useless thought and pat your shoulder. “Come on, my dear. Your beloved awaits. Let's not keep him waiting anymore.”

“You look wonderful,” whispered the older woman who you met just in the morning and you slowly nodded thanking her. She did the last touches on your hair and moved the diadem on your head a bit to the side so it would look right from all the sides. “Like a queen.” She pinched your right cheek and smiled which you reciprocated. The music changed to the traditional ceremonial and your heartbeat got suddenly faster. “Is he inside, already?” you asked softly not wanting to look inside the church. “Who? Your soon-to-be husband?” She laughed and continued. “He is waiting for you inside. I think he is ready to marry you. Well, who wouldn’t be?” She asked not expecting the answer. She looked at you with a motherly look and sighed. “Y/N, listen to me.” She said not wanting to sound too serious. “Everything will be alright. He loves you, otherwise, he would not marry you. You don’t have to worry too much. Calm down and go find your happiness.” Her words were encouraging but she did not know the whole truth. She did not know that he raped you and that you were expecting his child. She also did not know that the made him marry you. She did not know anything, but her words calmed you down a little. “And let me tell you, he is handsome. If I were younger, I would have stolen him from you.” She winked at you and you smiled. She turned to the door and pushed you softly forward. You knew it was the time.

When you walked inside the church, lord Black lent you his arm to hold onto as a replacement for your father. You did not look at him, because your eyes were locked with Jungkook’s burning dark gaze. He looked wonderful. The satin dark green suit went well with his dark eyes. You bit your lower lip as you walked closer. When you finally stood next to him, you felt so little compared to Jungkook. At that moment no one looked taller than him. The light from the candle was showing up on his face that was frowning the entire time. He looked so cold and you tried your best not to run away from there. Nervously you clenched your teeth and quickly looked away from him. You found comfort in the priest’s face who smiled at both of you and nodded. The ceremony did not take a long time as usual but instead, the priest asked the most important question a few minutes after everything began. Jungkook was the first to answer, but hearing his cold voice sent shivers down your spine. “I, Jeon Jungkook, take you Y/N Y/L/N, to be my lawfully wedded wife…“ You could not hear him finishing the sentence, thinking about his face and the tone of his voice. He really must hate me for what they did. For what I did. When you realised the was a silence you widened your eyes knowing it was your turn to repeat Jungkook’s words. You did so quietly as if not wanting others to hear it. Jungkook took your hand into his and put a ring on your finger. With that, both of you turned to the priest and bowed down to show respect. When you both turned to each other, Jungkook looked into your eyes still holding your hand. He whispered#. “I think it is the tradition for a husband to kiss his wife,“ you nodded a little agreeing with the statement. You looked away, not wanting to look at him. Your heart beat rapidly and even though others could see it because it was slightly showing on the dress how nervous you and your heart were. With long fingers, Jungkook pulled you closer to him and placed his hand on your jaw squeezing it a bit, to hold you in place. The other hand sneaked behind your head and then he pulled you into his embrace. He held you so close as if wanting to show others that you were his. That he now owned you. The colour of your face disappeared and you opened your eyes wide. His arms felt like burning steel when he pulled you close. He leaned down to your face and opened his lips. You inhaled and he connected your lips in a heated kiss. It was the same kind of kiss as he gave you on his ship. It was full of passion, lust and need. You could feel the eyes of other people on you, but Jungkook did not seem like he really minded that. When you pushed him away from you blushing looking at the others, Jungkook smirked and tilted his head to the side licking his lips. Finally mine, little one.

Part 7

a/n: So they are married. Geezzz, looks like there is no way to run away now. Anyways, I have a question for you guys. Do you want me to post longer chapters but only once a week or three shorter ones  a week? ♥ Please let me know! 

[thebountyfucker]

Three's a Company

18 + ONLY - NSFW

Embo/F!Reader/Bossk

This one has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I got bored so I finished it. Enjoy!

Tags: PiV sex, anal sex, DP, Embo's tongue, use of a vibrator, some violence.

Here's a link to my masterpost

-

The lights were dim, the music low and sultry. A Zeltron woman danced on a table wearing nothing but a scanty bodysuit. The scent of booze and bar snacks filled the air. This was unlike the Guild Headquarters that you were used to; you had only been once before, and the place was usually aflutter with the conversations of bounty hunters and mercenaries. Now, the place was rather reticent. The hunters and mercs were still around, sure, but their attention was drawn elsewhere. And by elsewhere, it usually meant on a pair of tits or a wayward bulge.

You, yourself, weren’t much of a dancer, but you were something nice to look at. Your job was, quite literally, walk around the place and drum up the sexual hunger. You could take a client or two, but it wasn’t a requirement. Thus far, no one seemed entirely interested. But that didn’t bother you.

You strutted past a table, not paying too much mind to who was there, until you noticed that you were being waved to. You approached, putting on a sultry smile, and leaned against the table. Staring back at you was a Trandoshan man - one of the Guild Leader’s sons, Bossk, if you remembered correctly - and a rather grumpy Kyuzo. Bossk, who had his arm wrapped around the Kyuzo’s shoulder, gave his friend a jostle.

“Are you entertainment?” Bossk asked, his long tongue flicking out to wet his lips. You nodded slowly.

“Sure am. What can I do for ya?” You leaned forward, accentuating your chest with a smirk.

“You see, my buddy here-,”

“We are not friends.” The Kyuzo interrupted.

“-well, it’s his Life Day-,”

“It is not.”

“-and I was looking to help him get laid.”

“I do not need your help getting laid.” He shrugged Bossk’s arm off, much to Bossk’s dismay. The Kyuzo crossed his arms over his chest and slumped in an odd little pout. Bossk rolled his eyes.

“Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t be here! Come on, Em… they weren’t worth it anyways.”

You watched the two interact, entertained. You had not been expecting this when you came over, but if you were telling the truth, this was the highlight of your rather boring night.

“I do not know what stories you are concocting, but there is nothing wrong.” Em tipped his large, circular hat down to cover his face. You sent Bossk a glance, and he shook his head. You eased onto the bench beside the agitated bounty hunter, and rested a hand on his thigh.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I am fine. I would be better off if I was left alone, though.” He growled lowly, and you retracted your hand.

“I’m sorry…”

“It is not your fault.” He turned to glance at Bossk, who was watching the Zeltron table-dancer disinterestedly.

“I’m sure the bunks are much quieter, if you’re looking for some peace.” You offered Em, and he nodded at this.

“Yes… that would probably be best.”

You scooted off of the bench and moved away, allowing Em the space to leave; you knew it wasn’t any of your business, but you hoped that somehow he’d have a better night. Only, that hope was quickly dashed.

Em moved to stand and exit the booth. The movement caught Bossk’s attention, and he let out a hearty laugh.

“Go get her!” Bossk pulled his hand back, and gave Em a hearty smack to the ass - it was likely meant to be a cordial gesture, akin to those athletes gave to one another. But you watched the way Em’s eyes flickered with rage, and Bossk knew in that moment that he had messed up. He moved away, but wasn’t quick enough to escape the swift kick to the chest. Bossk slammed into the back of the seat, coughing and hissing as he grabbed at his chest. Nearby patrons turned to see what was going on. Em straightened, brushed off his skirt, and waded through the crowded floor toward the bunks. You rushed to Bossk’s side.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Good.” He croaked as he rubbed his chest. You were surprised he wasn’t doubled over in pain. The kick looked like it was intended to cause some damage, maybe in the hopes that this would deter Bossk from bothering Em again. Bossk seemed sufficiently deterred, though, refraining from chasing after his ‘friend’.

“Are you certain?” You pressed a gentle hand to his chest, feeling for any broken ribs. Despite the force of Em’s kick, there seemed to be no broken bones. That was good.

“Yeah. Guess I was pressing his buttons too much.” Bossk muttered.

“How long were you pestering him?”

“... All night.” Bossk admitted, reaching for the glass that was sitting on the table.

“Why?”

“Rumor had it that he was going through some sort of break-up. We need him on his best game, and I was trying to hurry along the healing process.” Bossk shrugged, his voice slowly losing the wheeze that the kick had given him.

“I see… perhaps I could help with that.” You patted Bossk’s leg. “I’ll be back.”

You got up and weaved your way through the crowd, your sights set on the hall leading to the bunks. The Zeltron table-dancer was stepping down, only to be replaced by a Theelin burlesque dancer. The sultry music slowly shifted into something a bit more lively, and the crowd seemed to perk as well. You paid this no mind, though, as you slipped down the hallway.

You stopped at a door labeled 'Embo' and pondered. Bossk had called him Em, but maybe that was just a nickname. At the same time, it was possible that this 'Em' and 'Embo' were different people. It was a big galaxy after all. Deciding to risk it, you knocked and heard a husky 'come in'. You slipped inside.

Em - or Embo, rather- was sitting on the large bed, grumbling and drinking something out of a metal goblet. He hardly glanced up, but acknowledged your presence with a sweep of the hand. You sat on the end of the bed and met his gaze.

"Are you alright?" You asked, taking care to keep your tone soft and cordial. He scoffed.

"I assume Bossk sent you?"

"Yes and no. He told me that you weren't feeling so great but it was my decision to come." You replied, transfixed by the sight of his mouth. Previously hidden by a bronze mask, he sported dozens of wicked, carnivore-esque fangs. Long and sharp, you knew they could do some serious damage. You weren't sure why, but the thought aroused you. You ignored the warmth building in your cunt.

"He is delusional. There is nothing wrong." Embo replied, his golden gaze flicking to yours, noting the sudden, and potentially odd, fixation on his mouth. "You seem to have a staring problem."

You blinked and shook your head, an embarrassed tint marring your face. "I don't mean to. I've just… never seen anything like it."

"Mhm." Was all he said as he took a sip of his drink. A rivulet of the purple booze trickled down his lips, and his long, snake-like tongue flicked out to lick it up. Oh, there was that twinge in your cunt again. "Why are you still here?"

"I came to offer my services." You muttered in response, your mouth cotton-dry. He quirked a browridge, intrigued. "I was hired to take care of the Guild's guests. Of which, you are one. If there are any desires I can fulfill, you only need to speak them."

His gaze trailed down your body, as if he was inspecting a work of art; his gaze lingered on the swell of your breasts, and the curve of your hips… but he didn’t reach for you. He hardly said a word as he set his goblet aside and waved you off dismissively.

“I want nothing from you.” He replied, though his tone betrayed otherwise. You crawled up onto the bed, slowly slinking toward him, your heart pounding in your chest. He didn’t cower from your approach, nor did he move to push you away; rather, he responded with a stubborn glare. He was a tough nut to crack, this one… but you know you’d get to him. No man could resist your charm… or your cunt.

You parted his legs, crawling into the newly freed space and planting yourself in between his legs. You rested your hands on the mattress on either side of his hips, and leaned up to look him in the eyes, mere inches from him. He didn’t falter, his gaze burning deep into your soul. A shiver prickled at your spine, and you fought the urge to move away.

“Don’t play coy, sir.” You whispered, saturating your tone with desire. For him. For what he hid beneath his layers of skirts. For that wicked tongue. Your hungry eyes found his lips, and you pressed even closer. “I know that you desire me. It’s okay to admit it.”

“And if I do not?” Embo hummed, still resisting, yet not pulling away. You faltered for a moment, trying to find the right rebuttal. Certainly, he wanted you. Now, how could you get him to admit it? “Is it so hard for people to leave me alone?”

You broke your act at this, pulling away to give him the space he seemed to long for. You sat back on your butt, watching him, waiting for him to make a move. He nonchalantly reached for his goblet, and thrust it at you.

“Bring me another.”

You looked at the goblet, and then at him. “Uh… yes sir.”

You took it and scuttled out of the room, holding it with all the care in the galaxy. You figured he wouldn’t be too keen on you dropping it or scratching it in any way. You expertly dodged any interlopers as you swept toward the bar. You set the goblet down and pushed it toward the tender, who met your glance.

“Embo?”

“Yessir. Give him whatever he was drinking before.” You rocked on the balls of your feet as you watched the tender pull out a large bottle - it was green with little gold accents, with a wide, circular base and a narrow neck. He poured out the purple liquid, gave it a few swirls, and then handed it back to you.

“Don’t let him drink too much more of this, okay? This stuff is potent.”

You nodded in understanding and hurried off towards Embo’s room, trying to hold the goblet as steady as you could. You knocked, but didn’t wait for an answer, and slipped into the room. In the time you had been gone, Embo had shed his numerous layers and had put on a silk robe. He was leaning on his bed, as he had been before, though now he looked much more content. You wondered if his drink had finally kicked in.

“Here you are, sir.” You handed him the goblet, and bowed your head respectfully. He bowed his head in response, and took a small sip, humming appreciatively. You eased back onto the bed, and he gestured to you.

“Have you ever had zhizhi wine, pet?” He asked. You shook your head.

“No, sir.”

“Open your mouth.”

You did as you were told; he tipped your head back and poured a small stream of wine into your open mouth. The wine was thick - disarmingly so - and tangy, though the sting of alcohol was nowhere to be found. The wine warmed your body as it went down, and though you couldn’t describe why, you yearned for more. You reached for the goblet, and he pulled it away from your grasp.

“That would not be wise, pet.” He told you as he cupped your chin and tilted your head back down. “You humans do not process it the same way we do. Just wait. You will know why I cannot allow it soon enough.”

You thought Embo was talking a load of shit and being a selfish prick, but it wasn’t long before you understood what he was talking about. You could feel the buzz of the alcohol on the edges of your consciousness, despite you only drinking one sip. You let out a snort, then a giggle, before covering your mouth with your hand.

“What the fuck?”

“I did tell you.” Embo hummed as he leaned back, setting the goblet aside; his dusty green skin had flushed a brighter green as the alcohol worked its way through his system. You tried not to stare, but you noticed, through a crack in his robe, that he was not wearing anything underneath. And that it seemed that he was getting excited… You decided that it would be beneficial to try again.

You slipped between his legs, feeling the warmth of his thighs against yours, and reached up to play with the neckline of his robe. His large hand rested on the small of your back in response. You supposed this was good news.

“Sir, I don’t intend to be rude but… you look like you could use some attention.”

“Perhaps I could.”

“Could I… untie your robe?” You asked, your cunt throbbing at the prospect.

“Not until I see you first.” He responded, the hand on your back sliding up until it found the zipper holding your bodysuit closed. He guided the zipper downward until it couldn’t go any further, and you leaned back to give him the right angle to undress you. He peeled the bodysuit off your body, watching with rapt attention at the skin that was slowly exposed to him. You helped him pull it the rest of the way off of you. He tossed it off to the side. His ravenous gaze trailed down your form, taking in every inch of your soft, human skin.

“May I…?” You asked, leaning closer to him; the heat which radiated from him was akin to that of a furnace. Sweat began to bead on your brow. But your interest in what he had underneath his robe far outweighed the temporary discomfort of sweat. Besides, you had a feeling you’d be sweating a lot more soon.

He wrapped his large hand around yours, and directed it to the loose knot which held his robe closed. You swiftly undid the knot, and watched as his robe fell open. His chest was lean but strong, and peppered with scars. But this wasn’t what interested you. No, what interested you was his cock - half-hard and already longer than a human. You reached out to touch it, watching for any indication that he wasn’t interested. He gave you none, and you wrapped your hand around it.

A low, sharp hiss worked its way from his mask as you slowly and surely stroked his cock. His cock hardened in your hand, lengthening even further, and you idly wondered if he’d be able to fit inside you. He threaded a hand in your hair and guided you closer to him.

“Mmm… you are so lovely…” He purred as he leaned down to nuzzle your neck. You stroked him steadily. His hands slid down to the small of your back, pulling you flush against his chest; you straddled his thigh, grinding your cunt against his leg as you stroked him. “Mmm… you are wetting my thigh, little pet. Do you desire more than this?”

“Yes.” You breathed as you reached up to cup his cheeks. You pressed your forehead to his as his hands gripped your hips.

“Do you need preparation?” He inquired, and you glanced down to his cock - there was no way it’d fit without some proper foreplay to loosen you up. You slowly nodded, and he leaned you back onto the mattress. He rusted around in his drawers, and produced a small, thumb-sized vibrator. It buzzed to life, and he drew it around your clit. You hissed.

“I didn’t - I wasn’t aware that you knew of human anatomy!”

“I am well aware of human pleasure-spots.” He chuckled as he rubbed the vibrator along your swelling clit. Sharp sparks of pleasure shot through your body, igniting the fire in your belly. You tensed, and he purred. “Does that feel good, little pet? Hm?”

“Yes…” You whined as he drew the tip of the vibrator up and down along your clit. Your breaths came out as strained gasps as your pussy drooled onto his bed. He let out a hum of appreciation, drawing his finger up and down the glistening seam of your pussy.

“Very wet… let us see how tight you are.”

He pressed a thick finger into your pussy, slipping in to the first knuckle so he could massage the spongey membrane of your g-spot. You squirmed, grabbing fistfuls of his sheets and closing your legs around his hand. “Yes! Yes, just like that!”

He did as you told, continuing to massage your g-spot while drawing a vibrator around your clit. The tension mounted, and the fire in your belly threatened to spill over; your body went stiff, and you threw your head back in anticipation, only for him to turn the vibrator off and remove his finger.

“W-what the hell!?” You snapped, the obscene orgasm you were chasing slowly subsiding. He loomed over you, one hand resting near your head while the other lined up his cock with your yearning cunt. His head pressed through, and you stretched to accommodate it.

“Is this more to your liking?” He asked, his breath rattling through his mask. You nodded, angling your hips to give him better access. He slowly eased in, watching your face for any indication of pain or discomfort. When he found none, he continued to press in until you had completely sheathed his cock. You swore his cock had pressed up under your ribs, though you knew this was not possible. You were so completely impaled by him. You had never felt anything like it.

He gave you ample time to adjust, before slowly easing out of you. The sudden absence of his cock made you whimper, and he shook his head.

“Do not be getting cock-dumb on me now, little pet.” He stroked your hair as he eased back in, his cock hitting every sensitive spot within your yearning cunt. Your head lolled back and your back arched toward him, and he took this as a sign to continue. You both hardly noticed the company at the door.

A loud, rattling hiss filled the air, and you turned to spy Bossk standing in the doorway. Embo growled but didn’t stop. In fact, he went faster, harder, delighting in the way that your tits bounced as he did so.

“What are you doing here?” Embo muttered between thrusts. Bossk was palming himself through his pants, his tongue flicking out to wet his maw.

“Came to see if you were doin’ okay.” Was all he managed as he tentatively approached, watching Embo’s reaction for any adverse reactions. Embo ignored Bossk as he reached up to unlatch his mask; he set it down on the bed within easy reach and leaned down, his tongue snaking out to lap at your nipple. He leaned down to wrap his lips around it, his golden gaze meeting yours. Your entire body shook with a mounting orgasm, and you closed your legs around Embo’s narrow hips.

“D-don’t stop!” You cried as he pulled away to ravish the other nipple. You were faintly aware of the unzipping of a zipper, and turned your head to find the source of the noise. Bossk’s two cocks were mere inches away, hard and yearning. Embo replaced his mask.

“Lift her up…”

Embo glared but did as Bossk asked, pulling you up against his chest. The pause in thrusting pulled you from the brink of orgasm, and you whimpered. Bossk slipped up behind you, pressing his chest into your back.

“Lube?”

Embo sighed and reached over into his drawer to produce a little bottle. Bossk took it with a purr and you listened as he squirted it all over his cocks. He slicked his length and rubbed the excess along your asshole, and you sucked in a deep breath, preparing for the breach.

What you weren’t prepared for was the head of Bossk’s lower cock prodding at your already occupied cunt. You gasped, holding onto Embo tighter as you stretched to accommodate both of their cocks. You never thought you could stretch this wide and yet… Embo hissed at the sensation of Bossk’s cock pressing up against his.

Bossk’s upper cock pressed into your ass and you leaned forward to bite at Embo’s shoulder to contain the scream which threatened to escape your lips. Slowly, Bossk inched into you; he panted in your ear, his tongue sneaking out to caress your neck.

“You’re so tight. Fuck!”

You whined, leaning back against him as they both slowly started jacking their hips, their cocks sliding in and out of you in tandem. Your nerves zapped with ecstasy as their cocks caressed every sensitive inch of your cunt. At the same time, the sensation of Bossk’s cocks rubbing against the thin wall of flesh separating them was enough to make your head spin. Embo’s hands went to your tits, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive, swollen nipples. Bossk’s hands gripped your hips tight enough to bruise.

In and out, in and out, over and over again; their cocks put you in a daze as your body started to shake. Your eyes fluttered shut as they both uttered curses in their native tongues.

“Oh, oh!! I’m gonna-!” You cried out as the warmth in your belly threatened to spill over. They picked up their paces, thrusting unequally now at an attempt to usher forth your orgasm. It worked. You arched your back toward Embo with a loud cry, and a rush of fluids spilled out around their cocks as fireworks exploded within you. You felt electric. You felt alive. They didn’t stop their thrusting, chasing their own orgasms now even as your cunt tightened around them. When you regained control, you leaned forward, resting against Embo’s chest. You peppered his neck with tiny kisses.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

He nodded, a bit frantically, as his pace became erratic. This drove Bossk closer to his own orgasm, and soon, he too was off-pace. Embo came first, spilling deep inside you with a soft hiss. This was enough to send Bossk over the edge, and he followed suit, though he was much more vocal about it. Slowly, gently, they pulled out of you, and you felt their combined cum seep out of you.

“Fuck…” You muttered as you laid back on Embo’s bed. He laid down beside you, drawing the pad of his finger over your stomach.

“Are you finished, dear one?”

You shook your head frantically, and he chuckled. “Good… And you, Bossk?”

“I’m just getting started.”

[scraregenrecs]

SC Tropefest Fest Rareships/Gen Roundup!

There were so many rare and gen fics in @sctropefest – 26 to be exact, or 31.91% of the total works! We've compiled them here for your reading pleasure, and also spotlighted some honorable mentions at the very end that were primarily David/Patrick, but featured rare sideplots. Happy reading!

A Whole Lot To Gain by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Ted/Alexis, Alexis & David, Patrick & Alexis (background David/Patrick), G, 1,721 words

A story about identity, gender, and coming out.

and my task’s but begun by treepyful, Twyla & her mother, T, 16,109 words

Twyla was seven years old and missing a front tooth when her father left.

A look into Twyla's stories.

Budd is a dud! Vote Sands. by samwhambam, Stevie/Twyla, T, 7,718 words

Her and Twyla are friends. Not great friends. But friends who get high together at parties and have known each other for a long time. And up until right now, she thought they were better friends than a shitty, mean campaign slogan.

The enemies to lovers fic where Stevie and Twyla are both running for the same seat on town council.

(but if baby, i'm the bottom) you're the top by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, E, 3,681 words

Alexis knows what people assume about them.

They see Twyla's bright café smile at work, and listen to how readily she agrees to whatever her customers want. They watch how Twyla hangs back during get-togethers, freeing up room for Alexis to take the spotlight and captivate the crowd. They notice how Alexis towers over Twyla in her heels, and how she's always one step ahead of her steady, cautious girlfriend.

But they don't know what it's like when they're together.

OR: Five times Twyla tops Alexis, and one time she lets Alexis top her.

Captive on the carousel of time by designatedgrape, Stevie/Twyla, Gwen & Twyla (background David/Patrick), T, 11,156 words

The predictability of Schitt’s Creek and the routines of the people who live here have always been a comfort to Twyla. In a life that has been full of uncertainty, she appreciates that there are things she can always count on. So when Jocelyn walks in at 3:07, it isn’t a surprise. At least, not at first.

“What can I get for you, Jocelyn?”

“Oh, I think I’m going to need an extra-large coffee to get through the rest of the day, Twyla. I’m headed right back over to the school to set up for tonight.”

Twyla nods and turns to start making Jocelyn’s coffee. “What’s tonight?”

“Graduation.”

Twyla pauses and looks back at Jocelyn. “Um, I think you might be a little confused. Graduation was last night.”

come home to my heart by davidbrewer, Ted/Alexis, G, 1,822 words

“Oh, my god — Ted?”

Her own voice echoes in her ears and she’s suddenly standing, dumbfounded, outside Cafe Tropical almost seven years ago. Watching Ted step into the bistro felt eerily similar to watching him step off that motorcycle for the first time. It’s the kind of shock that makes the sparkling restaurant tile quake under her Louboutins.

Except, this time, the feelings bubbling to her chest are now far more nuanced than she knows how to process — no amount of personal growth or number of self-care retreats with Oprah could’ve prepared her to suddenly come face-to-face with the first person she ever loved more than herself.

OR: Alexis has a blind date. It's not what she EX-pected.

Deadpool Strikes Back! How One Merc For Hire Sticks It to an Army of Goons, One Annoying Narrator, and The Worst Villain of All: Self-Doubt by doingthemost, Stevie/Ruth, T, 1,340 words

WAZZUP!?@ 🤯 If you're reading this, you're probably thinking, "What the hell? Stevie's Deadpool?!"

The answer's YES! 🤗 And she's pissed, and not just 'cause a bunch of goons hijacked her girlfriend. 🤬 No: the worst thing of all is the narrator she has to deal with all along the way. 🤡 Buckle up, buckos, it's a bumpy ride!

AND DON'T FORGET TO LISTEN TO THE PODFIC!! AND OOH, DID I MENTION THERE'S ART?!

didn’t ask for this--you freely gave it (so now i watch your mouth for both of us) by Yellow_Bird_On_Richland, Alexis/Twyla, T, 6,371 words

Alexis chops her name down to three letters like it's nothing.

Twyla thinks about it a lot.

everyday the hold is getting tighter (and it troubles me so) by budd, Stevie/Ruth, M, 1,228 words

Stevie and Ruth end up sharing the last bed at the newest addition to Rosebud Motel Group.

Gonna Watch You Shine by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Johnny & Stevie, G, 1,127 words

Found Family Feelings: The Johnny & Stevie edition.

heaven is a place not too far away by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, Ted/Alexis (Previous), Alexis/Mutt (Previous), Alexis & David, Alexis & Moira (background David/Patrick), T, 8,267 words

"Oh, but soulmate marks are real." Her mother's expression softens. "Always one-sided, unfortunately. So difficult to know when you've truly met your soulmate without a matching indicator on the part of the other person, or other persons, if you're following." Her mother winks, and Alexis makes a face. "Your father was the exact same way. The poor little lamb couldn't carry a tune until he met me!"

"So you and Dad..." Alexis' head is spinning. "You guys are, like, actual soulmates."

"Very much so." Her mother appraises her carefully. "And you must have met yours, too."

"Yeah." Alexis blinks, stunned to find that she's short of breath. "I guess so."

OR: Alexis' soulmate mark – the ability to sing – triggers when she moves to Schitt's Creek.

i always felt i must look better in the rear view by davidbrewer, Alexis & David, Alexis/Twyla, David/Patrick, Alexis & David & Johnny & Moira, T, 13,152 words

“I have everything I need right here,” Twyla says, and something very fond stirs in Alexis’s chest. “I don’t need to wish for anything else. But you… You have big dreams, Alexis, and… If anyone deserves to have their wishes come true, it’s you. I want you to have it.”

OR: When her family's past stands in the way of a career opportunity, Alexis makes a wish that completely upends their lives all over again... but is it really what she wants?

If Hell Had a Creek by High-Seas-Swan, sonlali, sunlightsymphony, Gen, T, 9,139 words

After losing everything, the Roses are forced to move to their only remaining asset, the town of Schitt's Creek. Also, the town is on the Hellmouth, and Alexis is the Slayer.

If You Could See The Other Side Of Me by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Stevie/Alexis, Stevie & David (background David/Patrick) T, 3,473 words

Stevie has a teeny, tiny little celebrity crush.

It doesn't mean anything.

In The Running by floosilver8, Stevie/Twyla, M, 3,587 words

Stevie and Twyla run against each other for Town Council.

No Dress Rehearsals by kindofspecificstore, Patrick & Ted, Patrick/Rachel, Miguel/Ted, Patrick/David, G, 3,770 words

Life Happens to Ted and Patrick, and music is one of the things that helps them through it. Discovering a mutual love for the Tragically Hip forges a kind of friendship neither of them had before.

Or, just two boys talking about their feelings in a Tim Horton's parking lot.

putting roots in my dreamland by lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, G, 4,078 words

“Are roses your favorite flower?” Twyla asks, setting it down.

“Mm, no, but they’re kind of my brand?” she says, picking it up to snap a picture on her phone. “And as cute as it would be to have a peony in my logo, my company isn’t named ‘Alexis Peony Communications.”

“So, Alexis...Rose?” Twyla puts together, the name sounding vaguely familiar. Alexis nods, taking a photo at a different angle. “Well, I’m Twyla. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Twyla,” Alexis says slowly. Twyla loves the sound of her name in Alexis’s voice. “Nice to meet you.”

--

a twylexis flowershop au

Rollin’ With the Homies by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, Stevie/Ruth, Ted/Miguel (background David/Patrick), T, 9,917 words

So I know it seems like I live in this, like, super privileged world. Or maybe, like, a rip-off of The O.C. – or even worse, Laguna Beach, ugh! But I swear, I have a totally normal life!

Alexis Rose is just your totally average 16 year old with two annoying older siblings, David and Stevie, and a totally normal crush on her best friend, Twyla Sands. It's completely chill. She isn't, like, totally buggin'.

AKA: the Clueless AU.

Taste of a Poison Paradise by lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, M, 15,107 words

“Where have you been?” Stevie yells, kicking someone in the face and sending them over the railing.

“Stealing fireworks,” Rachel grunts, grabbing a stray piece of pipe off of the floor and bringing another one of them to their knees before delivering a swift roundhouse kick to their face.

“Oooh, these are fireworks?” Alexis grins with a small shimmy. “Love that for us.”

Green vines encircle the railings and Twyla jumps over it a second later. “I got the cane plus some other stuff,” she says, tossing it and another bag to Alexis and wrapping one of the ones around a guy trying to climb the railing to get up to them, dropping him onto the floor. “Let’s go.”

--

Be gay, do crimes but make it a Harley Quinn AU

The Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch by Amanita_Fierce, dairaliz, danieljradcliffe, DelilahMcMuffin, doingthemost, fairmanor, fishyspots, foxtails, GodOfLaundryBaskets, hagface, High-Seas-Swan (FangLang), hullomoon, Januarium, KiwianaPods (kiwiana), middyblue (daisyblaine), nontoxic, RhetoricalQuestions, roguebaby, schittposting, ships_to_sail, singsongsung, SparklesMagicLightLove, sunlightsymphony, thetomkatwholived, yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana), Alexis/Twyla, Jake/Rachel, Ted/Miguel, Stevie/Ruth, David/Patrick, M, 26,226 words

Hello, I am Wendy Kurtz, proprietor of the Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch, the world’s premier spot for couples looking to get a speedy divorce and connect with other soon-to-be divorcees.

I’d like to highlight the stories of five couples, who rearranged into five other couples, from some past summer. These ten people came to the Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch with the intention of ending a marriage, and got that and so much more.

I could recount their journeys with 100% accuracy, but where’s the fun in that? Let’s let them tell us themselves.

OR: One crazy summer in Las Vegas brings the heat and then some.

The Devil’s Work is Never Done by doingthemost and schittposting, Alexis or Stevie or Twyla/Reader, Gen, 68 words

If you were faced with temptation, what would you do?

The Guestbook of David and Patrick Rose-Brewer, by sonlali, Gen, T, 900 words

“A home isn't always the house we live in. It's also the people we choose to surround ourselves with.” — The House in the Cerulean Sea

A look through the entries in David and Patrick's wedding guestbook

Through Someone Else’s Eyes by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Alexis & David, T, 1,351 words

It's all Mr Hockley's fault.

The tea was supposed to get him high, not make him wake up in his sister's body.

To the end of the reckoning by dinnfameron, Patrick & Ronnie, T, 1,308 words

He should get David a coffee. He could deliver it to the motel, see how he’s doing. His arm is raised halfway to flag Twyla down when he catches himself. David doesn’t want to see him right now. He may never want to see Patrick ever again. The thought makes him sick.

“Brewer.” Patrick turns at the sound of his name. There aren’t many people in this town who call him that, and sure enough, there’s Ronnie Lee at a table near the front. He’d missed her, somehow.

“You look like shit,” she says.

[art] you know what they say: better late than never by budd, Alexis/Twyla, G, 274 words

While unpacking her boxes to move into Alexis' apartment in New York City, Twyla finds a stash of her old business cards from when she wrote a column for young members of the LGBTQIA+ community in The Advocate.

You’d be the love of my life by doingthemost and sonlali, Alexis/Twyla, M, 6,650 words

Alexis needs a date to a last-minute Interflix party on Valentine's Day so she can make Zac Efron jealous. Naturally, she asks her best friend and crush, Twyla, to pretend to be her girlfriend for the event. What could possibly go wrong?

BONUS CONTENT:

We wanted to also highlight some fics that are David/Patrick centric, but also include a rarepair side plot! These could be a great place to start for those who haven’t dipped their toe into rarepairs yet, but are intrigued by the idea.

I Waited My Whole Life by agoodperson, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, T, 23,402 words

David is just going to have to come up with something, because there is just no way that he can let Patrick Brewer catch him going to another of the town's many weddings on his own.

Wheel of Fortune: New York Edition! by middyblue, David/Patrick and Alexis/Twyla, T, 10,521 words

Patrick spends his evenings with his new roommate Stevie watching NY1's Wheel of Fortune spin-off hosted by Johnny and David Rose, until one day he accidentally bumps into David Rose himself on the train and starts to fill in some of the blank spaces in his life.

You Happened by lilythesilly, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, T, 54,271 words

David Rose is many things: talented, creative, fashion-forward, well read—the list can go on, but at the very top of that list is Extremely Rich. So he doesn’t understand why his father is making him work at Rose Video—or why Patrick Brewer, a boy he's had virtually no interaction with since they were twelve, is suddenly always around.

An enemies-to-coworkers-to-friends-to-lovers high school au.

You Look Like a Movie, You Sound Like a Song by fishyspots, E, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, 18,683 words

David has often wished, at first seriously and then more cynically as he grew older, that his life was a rom com. It takes longer than he'd like, frankly, but the universe calls his bluff.

You’re the star at the top of my tree by schittposting, T, David/Patrick and Alexis/Twyla, 10,392 words

Patrick Brewer comes to Schitt's Creek with a goal: drive Rose Apothecary out of business so Christmas World can take over its space. He's not counting on falling for its owner.

Happy reading friends! x

[myhoneststudyblr]

something crazy just happened...

i started this blog a year and a half ago and i honestly never imagined i would reach 100 followers let alone 15k!!! so i want to thank you ALL for being so lovely, welcoming and supportive - whenever i come on to tumblr, the studyblr community never fails to make me smile

this studyblr has been such an important journey for me and since i’ve made it i’ve grown as a person and as a student. it has taught me so much, from good study habits and self-care tips, to even some things about who i am as a person!

since i’ve created this blog and particularly in the past few months I've had the honour to meet and get to know some truly incredible people and i want to tag some people who i love and im so thankful to for being so kind: 

(you should all go follow their blogs if you haven’t already)

(btw it is probably gonna be quite long cause i have so much to say about these incredible people!!! sorry but im not really sorry XD)

@redlitmusbluelitmus MIA!!! i have already told you so many times how glad i am that you are my friend but i am going to do it again right here cause i can!! you are quite possibly the nicest, funniest and supportive people i have ever had the pleasure to meet. we haven't known each other for that long but in that time you quickly became an amazing friend and we have always just *got* each other!!! 💕💕💕

@study-van yasemin - our first conversation was pretty much a car crash and every one since has made me laugh and look like a proper idiot cause im usually just staring at my phone! i’ve followed your blog for so long and i’m so proud of all the amazing things you are doing and i’m so glad to have you as a friend after so stalking your blog for so long 💕

@museeofmoon zainab!!! we’ve known each other only for a short time now but our friendship was pretty much immediate!!! our conversations are filled with emojis, emoticons, capitals letters and XDs and i wouldn’t have it any other way!!!!! your posts are works of art and i will forever stan them <3

@headgirlstudy Ellie - discovering your blog was one of the best things to come out of my 2020 quarantine challenge cause you have this incredible style and simple beauty to your posts that i just can’t get enough of! i’ve loved having our fangirl conversations about taylor swift and all her incredible songs! you probably don’t know this but one of those conversations took place when i was feeling very low but discussing all the songs with you lifted me up so much so thank you xxx

@jeonchemstudy DAPHNE!!! if i ever create a bujo, i want it to look like yours because honestly, i don't understand how you managed to create such beauty!! we are interested in such similar things and it’s been so cool to find a fellow Gallagher girl lover (i was so shook when i found out you loved the books cause i usually feel very alone in my loved of them XD) and someone who is obsessed with last week tonight as me!!! x

@bulletnotestudies sabrina... you are just incredible and such a joyful person!!! i will always remember you messaging me when i posted that i was stressed about an exxay exam and your message was the last thing i saw before doing it and honestly if gave me such a boost! you’re positivity and supportiveness blows me away and i want many many more conversations with you xxx

@lattesandlearning laura - you were one of the most dedicated posters throughout the quarantine challenge and i loved seeing each and every one of your posts! i’m so glad to be following your journey and seeing what you’ve accomplished even in the short amount of time that I've known you <3

@upside-down-uni mo!!! another incredibly dedicated poster in the quarantine challenge and one that i always specifically looked out for! you and your blog have truly opened my eyes to other experiences and educated me more than you know just from your responses and posts! i always see that you like my posts and even on my dumb little text posts you often reply and it always makes me smile! i’m so glad that you’ve created this officially studyblr and thankful to you for making the community even more colourful 🌈

@coffeeandpies pat, i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again but you are the basically the third person that i followed in the studyblr community and to think that we’ve actually had conversations and we are friends and mutuals is downright crazy to me because you are imo just one of those iconic blogs!!! you are a beautiful person inside and out and your text posts are hilarious and tell the best stories. thank you so much for being so lovely <3

@coralstudiies you were the first person ever to really message me on tumblr and i remember being so shook because i think your blog is just mind blowingingly incredible! every picture of your notes looks like a work of art and i don’t know how you manage to make them look so perfect!!!

@problematicprocrastinator beth, you are a pillar of positivity in this community and your supportiveness and openness is at a level that i aspire to! your morning messages are usually the first thing i see (at least when i still was going to school on the bus every morning before all of the corona stuff) and it always gave me a little boost for the day! you are an incredible writer and your dedication to supporting everyone in this community is amazing <3 (also your blog name is probably the best one i’ve ever seen and i’m so jealous ngl)

i could wax lyrical about every studyblr i know but this post is getting really long so here are more of my favourites (just know that if you are in this list i have a little monologue about how amazing you are in my head and i appreciate you so much 💕💕💕)

@chazza-studies-alevels @stuhde @captainofstudies @sosiaalitieteet @elleandhermione @mid-afternoon-tea @athenastudying @learning-to-think @serendistudy @philology-studies @rivkahstudies @emili-a-a @nabasynth @divinity-study @cals-desk @abbieestudia @studywithprincess @studybuddiesareoverrated @casual-minimalist @stu-dna @coffe-in-cup @adelinestudiess @intellectys @eintsein @einstetic

there are so so many more that could be added to this list and i’m sure i’ve forgotten people!! basically i ADORE every single person in this community and i’ve loved getting to know all of you and i hope i’ll be able to meet more people in the next few years 💕💕💕

Now here’s the blograte celebration!!!

I did a blogrates for 10k followers but i enjoyed it so much and it was a while ago now that i want to do it again with all you amazing people!!!

Rules

Must be following me although new followers are welcome too!

Must be a studyblr or at least mostly (cause I want to find some more studyblrs to follow)

Reblog this post

Send me an ask : in the ask begin with your favourite emoji so I know it is a blog rate then tell me a funny story! 

Please don’t send anons - if your studyblr is a side blog just tell me this in the ask

Please let me know what you tag your original content with (specifically if it is not in your bio) 

Please be kind and patient! i am very busy this summer with lots of work as well as running my Summer Studying Challenge so it may take me a little while to do it but hopefully, i’ll get it done as fast as possible

I will be doing these blogrates until Wednesday 22nd July 

Format

URL | not my style | I kinda get it | awwww | I’m loving this! | how did you even come up with this masterpiece!?!??! |

Icon | what is it? | nice | aesthetic™️ | *heart eyes* | I WANT IT NOW THIS IS SO GORGEOUS |

Mobile theme | eh | nice | good | amazing | aesthetic af |

Desktop theme | default | nice | good | amazing | give me the code pls |

Following | no sorry, but you’re still amazing! | I am now omg! | how could I not?!?!! | forever and always ❤️ |

Original content | couldn’t find any :( | nice | great | well done! | I LOVE! | ABSOLUTE GOALS!!! |

i will be tagging my blograte posts with #myhoneststudyblr15k if you wanna blacklist them so your dash doesn’t get filled up!!

Thank you everyone!! <3

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot “Artistic Differences” (Rated NC17)

Summary: Kurt and Blaine have known each other all their lives. They've loved each other almost as long. But as Blaine uses his love for Kurt as inspiration for his music, Kurt has yet to reciprocate. And since painting is Kurt's entire world, Blaine is worried about what that might mean for the two of them. (2703 words)

Notes: I had been writing this for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'opinion'. I finally finished it. Wee! XD

Read on AO3.

Baby, you're not alone...

'Cause you're here with me...

And nothing's ever gonna bring us down...

'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you...

And you know it's true...

It don't matter what'll come to be...

Our love is all we need to make it through...

Blaine stops singing when he notices an echo haunting his lyrics, lingering on the high notes for longer than written. He listens with eyes closed, smiling at his keyboard. 

His boyfriend Kurt, humming behind the melody. 

Blaine has been ironing this song out for the past three hours now but Kurt hasn't complained once about the constant stopping and starting.

He never does. 

Blaine peeks over his shoulder as he continues to play with the harmonies and watches Kurt, focused on the canvas in front of him, swaying to the rhythm of the music, happily sandwiched between his two passions - art and music.

It's a mild and sunny Saturday - a whole day devoted to cleaning up commissions and tying loose ends on weekly projects before their one day off together. Blaine and Kurt share a studio space - normally unheard of for an artist and a musician, but they make it work. It helps that they've known one another for so long that being alone together is the same as being alone with themselves. That also means they get the inside scoop on what the other is working on long before the public does.

And what they're not working on, which has begun to bother Blaine.

Blaine adores everything his talented boyfriend comes up with. Even regarding his more controversial works, there isn't a thing Kurt has painted that Blaine finds objectionable. Kurt puts his heart and soul into every painting, no matter who it's for, and no matter the subject. A writer from Artforum once wrote: "Kurt Hummel goes beyond the veil to showcase not just the external, but the core of every subject - their drives and motivations. It pairs nicely with the transparency of his own soul, which shines through the gouache and the gesso to leave the viewer with a tangible piece."

And therein lies the root of Blaine's problem.

A glance at one of Kurt's canvasses and the world knows everything it needs to about what he loves.

But one subject in particular has gone wholly unrepresented.

“How come you've never painted a portrait of me?” Blaine asks.

"Hmm... what's that, love?" Kurt mutters, switching out brushes, then moving from a blob of Titanium White to a smear of Winsor Blue.

"How come you've never painted a portrait of me?" Blaine rises off his piano bench and relocates to the wooden folding chair behind Kurt's easel in the hopes of pulling his attention a bit. "You've been an artist for as long as I've known you, and I've known you your entire life. But not once have you ever painted a portrait of me."

“Why do I need to? I have you right here," Kurt says, pretending to bop the tip of Blaine's nose with his brush. "Besides, these aren’t personal." His gaze bounces between the three canvases set on easels in an arc in front of him. "They’re bought and paid for.”

"But what about your private stuff? You've shown me your sketchbooks and your digital art files. Unless you have some hidden folder marked 'secret boyfriend art' that I've yet to come across, there's not a single piece of me in any of your work."

Kurt doesn't steer his gaze away from the apple he's adding highlights to to acknowledge his pouty boyfriend, but the corner of his mouth hitches. "If you say so, dear."

"I know so," Blaine grumps, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping back in the chair so hard he nearly topples it over.

"That's your opinion."

"You're evading."

"Is it really so important to you?"

"Yes! It would be nice to be immortalized by my artist boyfriend!"

Kurt snickers. "Are you that much of a narcissist?"

"Your art is important to you! More than that - it's your life! You paint everything that you love! You've made dozens of paintings of Finn, your father, your mother, your Navigator... "

"My Navigator is my baby. It deserves love. I don't get to drive it much living in the city," Kurt defends. "Besides, those paintings I posted on Instagram landed me a huge contract with Lincoln, and that paid for our month-long tryst to Bali. You're welcome, by the way."

"I'm not saying I'm not grateful... " Blaine pauses, the smile on his face a souvenir from thirty straight days of overindulgence in sex and alcohol. "I think I more than proved that on that private beach? Under the moonlight?"

"Yeah, you did," Kurt growls, silently hoping that will be the end of this discussion.

"But... " Blaine picks up and Kurt's heart sinks.

No luck.

"... nowhere am I present in your work. Not that I've seen. Not even in the abstract. And that makes me think... " 

"Think what?" Kurt mutters, his playful attitude fading the longer this conversation drags on.

Blaine sighs, realizing how much like a spoiled toddler he sounds. But he's in too deep to stop now. "That you don't expect me to be around long."

Kurt's snicker turns into a full-blown chortle. "We've been together forever! You staked a claim on me in kindergarten! Are you suddenly going somewhere?"

"Can't you take this seriously?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous!"

Blaine huffs. "Great. So my feelings are ridiculous."

"No, Blaine, your feelings are valid. This argument is ridiculous. Believe it or don't, you don't know everything about me. Or my work. What does it matter what I put on a canvas? I told you that I love you! That I would always love you! I tell you over and over and over! Those are my words! My truth! Listen to my truth!"

"B-but what if you change your mind?" Blaine grimaces when that toddler inside him begins throwing an all-out tantrum.

"Then I change my mind!" Kurt groans, slamming his free hand down on an open tube of Dandelion Green, sending a thick ribbon of paint a good four feet. "I'm allowed to change my mind! And so are you! But I don't see that happening!"

"Then why won't you marry me?"

Kurt pulls a face, probably without thinking about it. "Because I'm not very fond of marriage."

"Why not? Your parents had a great marriage! And your father has a wonderful second marriage!"

"But your parents don't have a very good marriage, do they? Nor your older brother, who's been divorced twice already! " Kurt argues, frustration causing him to forget himself and clean his stained hand on the untucked hem of his shirt instead of a rag. That should be a huge red-flag for Blaine to back down, yet he doesn't. Common sense? Sorry, don't know her. "And the national average isn't that great, either. Doesn't it mean more that I choose to stay with you instead of feeling obligated to?"

Blaine doesn't have an answer for that, even though the answer is obviously yes. Of course, it does. And in high school, that would have been enough to shut Blaine up. But admitting to that feels too much like conceding, and this one time, this is an argument he wants to win. "Did you hear that song I've been working on?" Blaine asks, switching gears so quickly, it puts Kurt on edge.

"Yes," Kurt replies, his voice becoming tight quickly. "It's lovely."

"I wrote it for you."

"Thank you. It sounds wonderful. Another huge hit in the making."

"It's the 15th song I've written in your honor."

"Wow," Kurt says dryly, predicting the direction this is heading. "That many?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's an incredibly kind and loving gesture, one that I didn't know required reciprocation."

"It doesn't require reciprocation. But it would be nice."

Kurt rolls his eyes at Blaine's agenda. Tit for tat. Is that how this is supposed to work? "From what I remember, those songs made you a pretty penny."

"So?"

"So, it's not like you wrote them for me and kept them between us. Most of those songs are chart-toppers."

"But I didn't release them for the money! I wouldn't care if they didn't make me a dime! I put them on the albums because I'm not afraid to let the world know how I feel about you!"

Kurt's brow furrows as he fights through a blooming headache to decode that declaration. Once he gets it, he gasps. "I'm not hiding you away if that's what you're implying! You go with me EVERYWHERE! Every gallery opening, every art show! There have been articles written about our relationship! You're no dirty little secret!"

"I never said I was."

"No?" Kurt chuckles bitterly. "You're sure implying it a great deal!"

"That's not what this is about."

"You're right. It's not. Blaine!" Kurt tosses his brush into a mug of water and starts pacing the floor. "I am a gay artist walking a very fine line."

"I'm a gay artist, too!" Blaine says, offended.

"But you're a musician. And a songwriter. Musicians are supposed to use love as their muse. Writing about your relationship is expected... unless you're Taylor Swift, apparently."

"Yeah. What's up with that?"

Kurt shrugs. "I don't know. The point is that the second I make a piece of art about our relationship in any way, shape, or form, I'm afraid that's all it will be about, no matter what I intend."

"Isn't art supposed to be subject to interpretation?"

"That's just it! If I hint that my art has anything to do with you, that will become the only interpretation. Because too many straight people see the homosexual experience as solely about the right to fuck who we want to fuck and nothing else. I make a portrait about you or dedicated to you, and after that... " Kurt's eyes leave Blaine's face, scanning the room and his canvasses all around for help making his argument. He finds a painting of a forest they hiked through in Bali and stops there "... a tree that I paint will no longer be just a tree. It will become a symbol. In a forest of evergreens, if one needle is slightly browner than the rest because the paint oxidizes weirdly or whatever, then it'll be about you and me on the skids and nothing else. And I don't want that to happen."

Blaine turns in his chair to find the painting Kurt is staring at. On the surface, it's trees, dirt, and sky, but underneath, it's much more than that. That painting of their beloved paradise is perfection - so much so that he can feel the sun on his face, the breeze kissing his cheek, smell the sunscreen on his skin. "I understand what you're saying, but... "

"But?" Kurt grinds out between his teeth. This is the frustrating thing about arguing with Blaine. Even when he says he sees Kurt's point of view, he doesn't seem to really.

And when he's not winning, he gets dismissive.

"... I think you're overthinking things a little."

"And you're not?"

"Another evade," Blaine says, pointing at him in a way reminiscent of his brother's only acting technique.

Kurt grabs the hair at his temple and pulls to keep from flinging the palette in his hand like a frisbee at Blaine's head. "Isn't it more important that you know how I feel about you? You inspire me every day! Your love, your support, your music - they feed my soul! But do I have to plaster it on a wall to make it real?"

"That's kind of an empty question because you don't! There are no paintings of me! Not even in our apartment! And I'm sorry, but I think that's very telling!"

Kurt nods, his lips pulled taut. "You're right, Blaine. Not one. And it is very telling." He drops his palette on his work table and circles the room, grabbing finished canvases and carrying them over. He positions them purposefully, placing some under UV lights he has mounted to runners on the ceiling. 

"What... what are you doing?" Blaine asks with worry, wondering if Kurt is about to do something hasty, something that will ruin his paintings, waste all those hours of work, jeopardize the money he has yet to collect for them. 

Kurt doesn't answer. 

He doesn't even look at him. 

He works silently, his shoulders rigid, his footsteps heavy as he collects paintings Blaine forgot about, paintings that had made Blaine bristle because they were of places they had been to together, things they had made a point to see only with each other, but not a one included him. Those Kurt flips upside down.

He swipes a squeeze bottle of clear liquid from his army of supplies. It could be water. It could be paint thinner. Blaine doesn't know, but he's not certain he wants to find out. He's about to leap off his seat to stop him, but Kurt switches off the overhead lights, turns on the UVs, and Blaine stops. He watches in horror as Kurt douses the flipped canvases in fluid, but the paint doesn't run. Whatever is in that bottle, it sticks, but only in certain areas, and before it dries completely, Kurt dusts the paintings with a fine powder, one that brings hidden images to life beneath the lights.

“Oh my God,” Blaine mutters, stepping back to get a better look.

Every painting, in one way or another, is of him. Of them. And not just recently. There are images of them from college, high school... middle school. There are profiles of Blaine in the negative space between flowers of one painting, and in the clouds of another. A fluorescent image of teenaged him playing guitar to a silhouette of Kurt sitting beside him. There are shadows of them dancing, singing, even a daring one of them making love up against a wall. 

And the flipped landscapes? Their vacation pictures, as it were? The glowing dust reveals portraits hiding in plain sight, painted upside down and invisible to the naked eye. All of these images, Kurt painted in ways where no one would detect them if they weren't looking for them. If they didn't know they were there.

And they are in every. single. one.

Now that he's seen this, it's safe to assume all of Kurt's works carry similar Easter eggs, even paintings long gone.

"Why... why didn't you tell me about this?" Blaine asks, too stuck on stupid to move, walk from painting to painting and examine them properly.

"Why did I need to? I love you. I've told you. What else did I need to prove?"

Blaine shakes his head slowly, ashamed of himself. What an imbecile he is! Kurt is absolutely right. He loves him! He didn't need to prove it! The hurt Blaine felt - that was on him. It wasn't Kurt's responsibility to fix it. There isn't a day that goes by where Kurt doesn't show his love to Blaine in one way or another. Blaine didn't need this. He really didn't.

And right now, he doesn't feel he deserves it.

On a side note, how wrapped up in his own crap has he been that here, in this space that they share, where proximity has forced Kurt to memorize every song Blaine has been writing for his latest album while he paints, that he never realized just how frickin' talented his boyfriend is!?

"Kurt... " Blaine finally finds the strength to take a step forward, drawn to that ghostly image of them making love. It's a simple shadow of the moment, but it evokes a powerful memory "... these are incredible. How did you... ?" Blaine expects an answer before he can finish. Kurt is rarely shy about discussing his work.

Though Blaine should use this opening to his advantage - apologize since those should have been the first words out of his mouth.

But he gets nothing.

"Kurt?" Blaine looks over his shoulder in search of his boyfriend, ready to make amends. 

But Kurt is gone.

[themagicalmysticalboy]

PLEASE do that bob&george oneshot there's barely any content for them I love your stuff!!! :D

a/n: in which George and Bob Dylan are v e r y high on acid. this is technically closer to what a shroom high is like as opposed to an acid high but who cares abt semantics, right?

You've Really Got A Hold On Me

The flower pattern on the wall was doubling and tripling into a never-ending spiral, budding and blossoming in the blink of an eye. John joking and making the intimate circle of people laugh brought the wallpaper’s movements to a slow end. George took in a deep breath, grounding himself. Brian was to his right with his knees to his chest. Cynthia fell to his left, cuddled up against John. Leaving George directly in front of his friend.

They all sat around on the floor as the party around them went on. George wasn’t quite sure what John said but the flame of Cynthia’s lighter dancing strangely as she lit a spliff was enough to have him giggling. A wave-like sensation followed and tumbled through his body pleasantly. His fingers were a retreating tide, stretching impossibly long as he fiddled with a tune on the guitar only to come back to normal. He curled and uncurled his toes, feeling them roll like a carpet being put into storage. His whole body could be a rolled-up carpet for all he knew. Wouldn’t that be nice? But then again, carpets can’t hear and George was quite enjoying the music at the moment. Someone was playing a familiar song on the piano but the name of it couldn’t be placed.

Before he really understood his thought process, he was standing and his guitar was propped against a chair.

“Where you off to?” John was looking up at him with half-lidded eyes and a far-away smile.

“Duh know.” George laughed at the realization and let his feet guide him away.

Enough acid, alcohol, and weed had gone around that the party was nearing its peak. Whose party? At whose house? For what occasion? No clue. The important thing was that it felt warm. And not in an uncomfortable way. More like an excited hug from a long-unseen friend. Vibrantly dressed people filled the room and lined the walls. Some melted into the floor while others didn’t even touch it. Music was still going and Paul’s voice belted lyrics with the tune of the piano. He wasn’t visible in the crowd of people but he sure could be heard.

Swiping a drink from a serving table, George strode through the crowd and ascended a set of wildly painted stairs. Two birds sat together, painting a step with a bottle of sparkling nail polish. They didn’t look up as people passed. They only saw each other as they practically sat in one another’s lap. George rather liked when people did that- got lost in each other. He excused himself to pass and moved along.

At the top of the stairs, a couple rushed into a room in a fit of laughter and kissing. The door slammed behind them as George went by. The sound hit every inch of his body like a brick wall and suddenly the fringed lamps were giving off the worst lighting possible. When he tried to breathe he found that the warm hug had turned into a stranglehold. With the chug of his drink, George took swift strides down the hall. Tension rose in his muscles and tendons with each movement and the lights only got brighter and brighter, threatening to blind him. Finally, he opened the very last door at the very end of the hallway.

New energy from the space calmed him almost immediately. The glow of the lights somehow tasted much kinder in there and no one else was occupying the space, save for a tabby cat.

“You mind the intrusion?” He addressed the cat. It responded with a short meow and settled on the couch, unbothered. “Ta.”

The door clicked closed, sealing in the soft vibes. The art studio he found himself in was covered with finished and half-finished work. One piece still sat at the easel with nothing but a messy black background. Paint and drop cloths cluttered the space around the easel and couch. The floor was a beautiful and giant daisy, splattered with freckles of stray paint. George laid himself down on a delicate white pedal and took in the energy of the room. He felt yellow and orange bursting in his chest and behind his eyes.

There was a rhythmic knocking at the door. It echoed and bounced until it was all George could hear. The muffled chatter and music from the party fell away to the knockknock, knockknock, knock. The orange in his chest fell way to blue which melted into yellow seamlessly. He wasn’t very sure how to respond to the knocking, so he didn’t.

The door creaked open, regardless, and George slowly sat up to find a mess of curly hair on top of a small frame. “Bobby,” He greeted with a toothy grin. “You’ve got to ask the cat if you can stay.”

“Oh, man. Really?” Bob smiled, awkwardly removing the cigarette from between his lips though both hands already held drinks. “Well,” he asked the starring tabby, glancing to George as they both tried not to laugh.

The cat hopped from its resting spot and rubbed against Bob’s trousers. He looked to George to see if he had passed.

“Oi, well, now you have to leave. They like you more than me.”

“Apologies to your ego,” He stated as he sat in the center of the daisy and placed one cup in front of George before taking a sip of his own.

“I’ve got a drink, actually.”

“I’m sure yours isn’t water.”

The green vibrations romped around George and he took up the water appreciatively. “I feel romanced.” And he kind of meant it though his tone made it seem more of a jest.

Bob only hummed, placing his cigarette back between his lips. He leaned back on both hands to stare at the ceiling, casting his features into the soft yellow lighting. Both his legs were laid out flat, one foot on either side of George. “It’s loud down there. I couldn’t feel - see - anything right, you know? The noise was a cloud over my eyes.” Smoke poured from between his lips, delicately floating into the air.

“Mmm, suffocating like.” As Bob rose his head up George realized he hadn’t been seeing right either. A radius of color encapsulated him, dancing softly above his skin. It shimmered around him in an impossible display of greens and yellows. He saw nothing like it when he was downstairs. “Blinding too, yeah.”

“You Beatles are hard to find. You, Ringo, and John, at least. If anything, Paul’s hard to lose.”

George rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. God. He really hadn’t seen anything before this very moment. “Paul’s good for company ‘til he finds a bird to fly off with or gets bored,” he answered listlessly, lost in the explosion of color and energy before him. “Do you see all the colors?” He had to ask, even if it sounded a little silly out loud. “You’re as good as a rainbow.”

Bob gave a youthful grin and tilted his head. New shades of blue and green and yellow spun out from around him. “Yeah. You look like the sun just as it’s rising.”

The flow of energy between them felt magnetic, compelling George to move closer. Once they both occupied the bright yellow center of the daisy- George’s legs overtop of Bob’s thighs- the pull finally settled.

“You think it’s our auras,” he asked as he rested his hands above Bob’s hips.

“All I know is that I can see all of you.” He said as his eyes flicked between George’s eyes and mouth. “I could taste your favorite song on your lips.”

Though he fought to keep a straight face, his lips defied him and curled into a smile. He bit down on his bottom lip in a vain attempt to gain control but quickly gave up. “You think so?”

Bob nodded ever so slightly and cupped the side of George's face. His calloused fingertip gently rubbed his cheekbone. “Can I…?”

They were almost nose to nose already. It took so little effort to close the gap that George barely registered that he had done it at all until their lips grazed and a bolt of lightning struck through his veins, illuminating the room so brightly that George could see the pale yellow through his closed eyes. His fingers curled into the fabric of Bob’s shirt as he pressed into the kiss.

When they parted Bob’s head fell onto his shoulder, his hands circling George to clasp behind his back. “Hold me, please. Hold me, squeeze, hold me, hold me,” He sang softly, his usual folksy vocals nowhere to be found. “You really got a hold on me. I said you really got a hold on me.”

George gave a breathy chuckle and did as the song called for, holding Bob tighter in his arms. “The Miracles. Can never go wrong there.”

Bob raised his head and they kissed again before George repositioned. He tugged Bob along with him until they were both flat on their backs, laying on the same flower pedal, hand in hand.

After a while, Bob pressed his head into George’s. “How long do the colors last?”

“Probably another hour.”

Bob rolled on his side and George turned his head so they could meet eyes. “What even is an hour?”

With a quizzical glance at his own fringe, he surmised, “Somewhere between five seconds and an infinity.”

“Perfect. We’ll lay here ‘til then.”

[amy-issen]

ok so here it is!! i spent the last week solely making and listening to this playlist like i was POSSESED because this ship is lovely and deserved a nice playlist!  if anyone wants to know why i picked each song, i’m going to ramble about it extensively in the read more, so check that out if you want! hope you enjoy it! also thanks again to @birbwell​ for letting me use her art for the cover!

i divided this playlist in a few sections so let’s start with the first one (section one: first meeting/pining) i. in the rain - joe hisaishi i wanted to start with a short instrumental track to set the mood, and i looooove howl’s moving castle score, so i had to pick this one! the fact that it has rain in the title also helps to reference how their relationship began! ii. with every breath i take - frank sinatra “every breath that I take is a prayer that i’ll make you mine” my sister is a big sinatra/jazz fan (and also a yakuza fan) so she helped me with picking a few of the songs here! this one is very romantic, elegant and beautiful and i thought it fit the mood (and it’s what i think tachibana listens to in his free time lmao).

iii. gold rush - taylor swift “what must it be like to grow up that beautiful? with your hair falling into place like dominoes my mind turns your life into folklore i can't dare to dream about you anymore” this one is my FAVORITE song on this playlist, and one of the first i picked because this song just fits them like a glove. it’s basically pining 101, and i love that what taylor said this song is about “daydreaming about someone then snapping out of it.” i feel like the first part could be from tachibana’s perspective and the second one from kiryu’s (also giving a bit of a glimpse into the future, with the mention of a coastal town they’ll never find together) iv. first love/late spring - mitski “so please, hurry, leave me, i can't breathe please don't say you love me mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)” this one was another song i picked very early on because i love mitski, and i needed to include her here. i just wanted something to symbolize the trust that tachibana and kiryu have to share to work together, and the feelings that emerge from it, if that makes any sense. i don’t think this has a specific perspective, because i feel like this could work from both kiryu’s and tachibana’s (mostly kiryu though) v. real estate - adam melchor “every time I wonder how i'd carry on without you i'm runnin' out of real estate tryna make all the right moves i don't wanna hesitate i would bet the house on you “ do you UNDERSTAND how satisfying it was to find a song named real estate for them?? come ooon. ok that’s not all of my reasoning for it but it’s like. most of it, lmao another song i felt was about trust and feelings. (also a bit of a glimpse into the future, because i’m sad) vi. i get a kick out of you - ella fitzgerald “i get no kick from champagne mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all so tell me why should it be true that i get a kick out of you?” another one my sister recommended. i originally was gonna go with sinatra’s version of this, but i love this one and it just wouldn’t leave my brain. again, one from mostly tachibana’s perspective, get this man to sing this on karaoke night right now. vii. like real people do - hozier  “i will not ask you where you came from i would not ask and neither would you honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips we could just kiss like real people do” this is one of my all time favorites from hozier and, again, it just fit perfectly. tachibana and kiryu have both lived some very... troubled lives so far, and while they’re depending on this trust they have in eachother, none of them really care to know about what they’ve done or who they are. this is mostly from kiryu’s perspective, specially with this metaphor of being rescued/dug up from the earth with the whole being found in the rain and saved by tachibana and his poor driving skills. viii. delicate - taylor swift “this ain't for the best my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me... we can't make any promises now, can we, babe? but you can make me a drink” y’all are going to have to forgive me for picking TWO taylor swift songs but COME OOOON this is another one that i picked early on because i could draw so many parallels between the lyrics and things that they both said in that car scene on chapter 9 (mostly tachibana though) and i kept harassing my sister with screenshots to prove my point and i’m gonna do it again

ANYWAYS i’ve made my case, and now we enter the second section of the playlist at last ( section 2: actual romantic/fluffy songs because this is a ship playlist) i. good old-fashioned lover boy - queen “dining at the ritz we'll meet at nine (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 o'clock) precisely i will pay the bill, you taste the wine driving back in style in my saloon will do quite nicely just take me back to yours that will be fine” is this a bit of a cliché? yes. did i want to include it because it’s very cute and i’d like to imagine kiryu and tachibana having a nice date night with no people trying to kill them all the time? also yes. i love this song.

ii. stay with me/mayonaka no door - miki matsuraba “you in your gray jacket with that oh-so-familiar coffee stain just as you always are the two of us reflect in the window display stay with me knocking on midnight's door i beg you not to go home tonight” (translated lyrics) is anyone not obsessed with this song lately? this is the only song here i’m blaming tiktok for making me listen to it lol. in any way, this song is deceptive because it sounds really happy but is actually quite melancholic. i thought it fit their relationship well, and it seemed like a good addition to the playlist with it’s 80′s city pop vibes.

iii. on melancholy hill - gorillaz (covered by matt forbes) “just looking out on the day of another dream where you can't get what you want, but you can get me so let's set out to sea, love 'cause you are my medicine when you're close to me" this is a gorillaz song but i went with this cover because it fit the feeling of the playlist a little better. another song that i just love very deeply and i thought fit the sentiment of kiryu being like “hey i know we have Big problems and you’re very sad in the moment but i’m here for you” iv. (i love you) for sentimental reasons - nat king cole "i think of you every morning dream of you every night darling, i'm never lonely whenever you are in sight" surprisingly, not one that my sister recommended, but one i found for myself while looking for quiet  romantic songs. i feel like this is tachibana's reply to kiryu being there for him and helping him. plus, idk i just wanted to imagine them slow dancing to this. v. positions - ariana grande (covered by travis atreo) "perfect, perfect you're too good to be true but I get tired of runnin', fuck it now, i’m runnin' with you" i picked this cover because i felt like using ariana's one would be a little goofy for this section lmao, but i really like this song and how it's about commitment and doing everything to make a relationship work. i just wanted to throw some sexy vibes before this playlist delved into depressing stuff. also if you telling me tachibana wouldn't absolute body a tiktok set to this song you're lying to yourself. (section 3: oh no this is getting sad) i. forever - labrinth "i'll live forever" i love everything labrinth makes, the euphoria soundtrack lives in my mind rent free and this is my favorite one. this barely has any lyrics so, again, mostly a track i picked for its intrumentals and feeling overall. mostly preparing you for the sad stuff ahead. ii. hong kong - gorillaz "you swallow me i'm a pill on your tongue here on the nineteenth floor the neon lights make me calm" this is my favorite gorillaz song, by FAR, and i think it's introspective vibe really fits tachibana's character. not really a song about relationship but i really wanted to include it because it's just such a GORGEOUS song. iii. fragments - severon another instrumental track! this one i stole from a playlist my sister made for a fic i wrote last year. again. sad vibes. iv. sign of the times - harry styles (covered by LANY) "remember everything will be alright we can meet again somewhere somewhere far away from here" i loved the synth-y vibe this cover had, while still keeping this song's sad "our lives are dangerous and i'm about to die" vibes. i mostly wanted to evoke the vibe from the scene where tachibana agrees to go with lao gui after kiryu gets shot. just really sad all around. v. so close - jon mclaughlin "we're so close to reaching that famous happy end almost believing this one's not pretend let's go on dreaming though we know we are so close, so close, and still so far" me? picking a song from disney's enchanted??? for a playlist??? it's more likely than you think. idk this song just gives me that vibe of being so close to being happy and together, almost reminiscing and wondering what could have been. but it just... won't happen. vi. as the world caves in - matt maltese "yes, it's you i welcome death with as the world, as the world caves in" oops, yes, i had to go there. just couldn't resist including this song, and i feel like it's really self-explanatory. vii. places we won't walk - bruno major "neon lights shine bold and bright buildings grow to dizzy heights people come alive at night in places we won't walk" again, i feel like this song speaks for itself. a bit of a meditation on kiryu's perspective on things that could have happened, things they would have done, that kiryu will just have to do alone from now on. viii. carry me out - mitski "i drive when it rains at night, when it rains, i drive and the headlight spirits they lead me down the styx so black it shines and carry me out carry me out"

possibly the saddest and the most powerful song in this playlist, because i just had to put a mitski song again. the image of kiryu carrying tachibana's body is just constantly in my mind when i listen to this, but i could also see this song being from the perspective of tachibana's spirit. ix. arms tonite - mother mother "i died in your arms tonight i slipped through into the afterlife it was nice" lmao this felt a bit like a cruel joke to include, but i didn't want this playlist to end TOO depressingly. it's a nod to tachibana dying in kiryu's arms, sure, but also it's romantic and possibly a little hopeful (tachibana lives au!!! orpheus and eurydice au!!! fuck it, idk!!)  xi. everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears "there's a room where the light won't find you holding hands while the walls come tumbling down when they do, i'll be right behind you so glad we've almost made it so sad they had to fade it everybody wants to rule the world" not a recommendation from my sister, but it is her favorite song, and she was happy that i included it. another 80's bop with sad lyrics! i feel like this is a lovely summary of their story together and it feels like a nice little bow to wrap up the playlist.  i hope you enjoyed my long ass explanations! i might add songs later (or make an entire second playlist altogether for the fic i'm writing rn, but let's not get ahead of ourselves)

[blairwaldcrf]

End of the year Review

1. Song of the year?

Exile - Bon Iver & Taylor Swift

2. Album of the year?

i hate myself for it but Folklore lol

3. Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year?

Harry Styles... I never cared about One Direction and thought his stuff would be lame like *cough*zayne*cough* but I was pleasantly surprised he had his own rock sound

4. Movie of the year?

tbh i have seen an extremely tiny amount of movies this year so I'm gonna go with a tie of Soul and Happiest Season (purely because Dan Levy)

5. TV show of the year?

Teenage Bounty Hunters

6. Episode of tv or webisode that defined the year for you?

Unfortunately the funeral episode of Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist

7. Favorite actor of the year?

Dan Levy

8. Game of the year?

I haven't gamed this year other than Sims 4 so...

9. Best month for you this year?

hahahaha. I guess January after passing my pharmacy board and not knowing the shit storm that was coming

10. Something that made you cry this year?

idk something like the 2 deaths of mother & mother figure as well as my exfiance leaving no big deal

11. Something you want to do again next year?

go hiking more

12. Talk about a new friend you made this year

let's see, @missbrunettebarbie who is a wonderful writer, thoughtful friend, and also someone i shared trauma with at the same time... @takaraphoenix who is lovely and helpful and hilarious when it comes to asking cultural questions and @legendsofentity who is honestly the sweetest and always has some fun headcanons for me on the daily ❤️❤️❤️

13. How was your birthday this year?

well my mom who had me at 30 died right before my 30th sooo....

14. Favorite book you read this year?

King of Scars by Leigh Bardugo

15. What’s a bad habit you picked up this year?

eating edibles to deal with grief

16. Post a picture from the beginning of the year

17. Post a picture from the end of the year

can you see the deadness in my eyes?

18. A memorable meal this year?

a few different ones at nice restaurants

19. What’re you excited about for next year?

the covid vaccine and my tax return money

20. What’s something you learned this year?

oh dear God, idk. people are more stupid than I gave them credit for. on the other hand, the better of humanity really stepped up and created beauty in the darkness. nurses, doctors, activists...

21. What’s something new about your place of residence (room, home, or general location) now vs the start of the year?

i have two computers on my dining table to work at home 😕

22. Favorite place you visited this year?

sedona

23. If you could send a message to yourself back on the first day of the year, what would it be?

talk to your mom more. that girl is only using you for an ego boost. get ready.

24. Did you keep any New Year’s Resolutions?

lmfao no, i didn't set any to begin with because i stopped believing in them awhile ago and dear God this year proved me right

25. Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one.

Um, idk about new characters I mainly just remodeled old ones. Although in Sims I did create some lesbian witches so 🤷‍♂️

look I'm a weirdo who loves end of year shit so i did all of them but no pressure HOWEVER I'm also considering this my

❤️follow forever ❤️

@takaraphoenix @legendsofentity @fonduaunoire @missbrunettebarbie @laufire @calebcovington @girlpash @reggietheghost @realchemistry @chasecordelias @acelandonkirby @furiousfinnstan @caiterprince @jcmorgenstern @dylanobrienisbatman @dovegranger @evanbucklley @khalidaaaaa @zaritomaz @montygreen @dinah-lance @beth-cassidy @bedoinkle @sakebytheriver @welldressedllama @bithcassidy @lexkent @hood-ex @nytewing @stevenrogered @yobats @glenn-rhee @chasingshhadows @eversall @iwillbestronger @intostarlight @sleepy-skittles @harmonization @haleysbrooke @oneeyeddestroyer

if I'm missing someone I'm sorry 😭 i still love every one of you!!

[magpiemorality]

alright. i have to get it asked. “roommates who never see each other because they work opposite shifts, but now they’re stuck in quarantine and w h o o p s you’re kind cute but also a lil bit of an asshole how long do we have to be quarantined?? oh nooooooo “ w any couple u want!! even a throuple!!!

It’s been a long time coming but here we go! With misunderstandings, pining, denial and a happy ending :D I considered splitting this into parts but it works best as a whole so here you go! 

Love In The Time Of Quarantine

3900 words on the dot. 

AO3

***

The quarantine was a bit of a bummer. It could’ve been worse, Logan reasoned, because he at least could work from home and keep busy, and he had never worried too much about getting out and being social. He was extraordinarily lucky to be exactly where he would have wanted to be for such an event, well-stocked, well-paid and comfortable.

Unfortunately the same could not be said for his housemates. There were three of them sharing the place, a three-bedroom apartment at the top of a tall block on the outskirts of the city centre. It was nice enough, paid for by three reasonable wages, and had trees and a little park visible from the windows. Logan mostly worked freelance as an IT specialist of all kinds; Patton was apparently a nanny who worked out of home a lot, he knew thanks to the single swift conversation they’d had when the guy had first moved in, caring for his charges at their own home a few blocks away; and Remus was… Logan actually wasn’t sure about him. He was out overnight, coming back early morning to sleep through the day, and didn’t seem to have any specific equipment or work clothing that gave any clues about his job.

In any case, with their contrasting hours and jobs the three of them hadn’t had much of a chance to chat at any point since moving in, and no one had been the first to take the first step in initiating contact. Everyone just cohabited peacefully and that was perfectly fine, suiting them all well enough. But with the quarantine? Things were already changing fast, and the previously calm, quiet and spacious apartment wasn’t going to remain all those things for much longer.

“Oh good morning, Logan!” Patton chirped at 6:00AM on the first Monday morning stuck at home, as Logan dragged himself into the kitchen for his wake up coffee. Logan blinked, staring at what seemed to be most of their food supplies laid out in an enormous breakfast on the kitchen table, everything very neatly arranged and cut into small, bite-sized pieces. “I made breakfast!”

“You, certainly did…” Logan agreed, a little weak with shock. “Aren’t we supposed to be conserving food, however?”

Patton blinked at him, his eyes going wide behind his glasses. He clapped a hand over his mouth with a gasp. Logan was surprised his eyes didn’t fill with glittery tears, honestly, with the drama of the rest of the display. “Oh gosh, you’re right! How could I forget?! Oh I’m so sorry, Logan, I’ll go out and replace everything right away, oh no-”

“N-no,” Logan said slowly. “No, Patton you’re not allowed out. That’s the whole point.”

“Not allowed out at all?!” Patton replied, aghast, incidentally summoning their third roommate with the commotion. As Logan tried to placate the inconsolable nanny, promising him that that was an exaggeration and he absolutely could go out but it really was better not to unless there was no other option; the mysterious Remus appeared in the kitchen doorway, rumpled from sleep and not wearing anything but a shirt and some novelty Thanksgiving turkey underwear. Boxers, thank goodness, but still covering no way near enough for what was almost appearing in public, considering how little they all knew each other.

At least the intrusion stopped Patton’s panic, Logan thought, clearing his throat loudly as Patton stared and turned darker and darker pink in the cheeks. Remus was already piling food into his arms (oh okay, they were quite nice arms actually, maybe Patton had the right idea) and mouth, and he didn’t react to Logan’s attempt to politely indicate to him that his behaviour was a little inappropriate. He just nodded and winked at a brightly blushing Patton, and carried his hoard away back to his room. Patton just quietly and heavily sat down at the kitchen table and started absentmindedly smearing cream cheese onto a bagel, and after a moment Logan joined him, silently reaching for the toast.

Well. That was. Hopefully not an indication of how things were going to be from now on. Hopefully. Please?

Unfortunately (or fortunately from some angles) Remus continued to not wear many clothes. It was a terrible problem that both Patton and Logan had strangely and somewhat awkwardly bonded over. The first time the nanny had muttered something profane under his breath as their partial-nudist housemate wandered away back to his room after another appearance in search of food, Logan had stared at him with his mouth hanging open, trying to process those words coming from that mouth. Patton had just sighed and rolled his eyes, folding his arms defensively. “Just because I work with children doesn’t mean I can’t have a good swear now and then, Logan. I mean, you’ve seen that man’s ass!”

Logan had, indeed, seen that man’s ass. It just so happened to be one of those more fortunate angles, and Remus still apparently had something against wearing pants.

Bonding over Remus’s (admittedly very nice) body notwithstanding; the two of them actually got along pretty well. Perhaps it was being used to not having much of a social life that meant they were very comfortable and happy to just hang out quietly together, with Patton sat down at the coffee table embroidering or working on some fan art he apparently had quite the talent for, and Logan reading on one of the couches nearby. He would’ve gone so far as to work out in the living area because Patton was fantastic company and great for his motivation, but the effort involved in moving his entire workstation and cables was beyond reason, and the constant risk of being utterly derailed in whatever he was doing by Remus sashaying past sort of outweighed the benefits of having Patton there. Logan still had to actually get his work done in order to earn a living, after all.

And Remus sashayed a lot. At first it had just been once in the morning and evening as he ended and started his day respectively, probably as a result of the long-term night shift pattern, Logan reckoned. But then as Remus continued to be unable to go back into work he evidently started moving his daily pattern around somewhat. Logan would hear him moving around longer after breakfast, and his music or the sound of whatever he was watching on his laptop (Logan didn’t particularly want to listen too closely but sometimes it was hard not to, having the room that shared a wall), would stop earlier in the night.

He started to strut around more and more often while they were up and out in the living areas, grabbing snacks or wandering around for a stretch, coming to ask Patton what he was doing and leaning far closer than was necessary as Patton blushed his way through an explanation, stammering whenever Remus complimented his work effusively. He was quite the flirt, was Remus, Logan could tell. The guy full on preened at the way Patton’s eyes followed him, and he seemed to take great delight in making the nanny sigh by stretching in just the right way. More than once Patton had pricked his finger with his needle by letting his gaze linger a second too long, or cursed under his breath as he messed up a line on his tablet.

Logan was unaffected of course. Except for the times he had ended up rereading the same page of his book over and over again until Remus was long gone and his brain came back into focus. But those didn’t count! They didn’t count, Patton, stop laughing.

But there was another issue with Remus; he was increasingly messy the more time he spent at home. Patton was pretty clean, used to tidying up after a pair of rambunctious under-tens, and Logan barely made any mess in the first place, eating what Patton cooked and helping clean the dishes afterwards, sticking to his carefully planned laundry routine and rarely deviating. But Remus was just made of mess. He dropped clothing around the bathroom; he left dishes and mugs around; he seemed to order stuff a lot despite the whole quarantine situation (Logan frequently tutted when yet another poor delivery person showed up) and there were piles of cardboard boxes building up in the entrance to their apartment.

When Remus peeled his sock off and scratched at his foot, one afternoon, Logan narrowed his eyes. When Remus got up, leaving it on the arm of the couch when he left to go to his bedroom, Logan finally decided he’d had enough.

“Remus!” He snapped, striding to his room and standing in the doorway before the door could close. Remus turned around with an innocent blink, opening his mouth to say something with a smirk, but Logan got there first. “Do you mind. We’re all having to live in this apartment together and keeping it tidy is important to both me and Patton!”

Remus tilted his head, his eyebrows rising swiftly at the lecture and his smirk dropping in surprise. Patton appeared behind Logan in the hallway, hovering uncertainly. “I reckon Patton can speak for himself, actually,” Remus muttered, folding his arms over his chest with what appeared to Logan to be an actual pout. On a grown man, who was clearly in the wrong. Honestly.

“Oh well, yes. I would like it if you could perhaps… just keep your clothes to your room?” Patton asked weakly. “After all, a tidy house is a tidy mind! We’ll feel a lot better in a clean environment. And… it is a little icky.”

“Fine,” Remus sighed. “I’ll keep it tidy, no more ‘icky’.” Logan nodded in satisfaction and turned to leave but Remus, damn him, had to have the last word, voice dripping with innocent earnestness. “You should’ve said something before if it meant so much to you, guys!”

Patton made a quick excuse Logan away before he could explode, and they both missed the soft sigh behind the door to Remus’s room as it closed.

To be fair to Remus, he was very tidy after that. Remarkably so, in fact, just like he had been before the quarantine had taken effect. Not so much in his room, from the glimpses Logan got inside, but certainly in the rest of the apartment. Annoyingly he’d also apparently taken the confrontation as a good enough first interaction to invite himself into hang out time, somehow not sensing the animosity that radiated from Logan anytime they were in the same room.

Sure, it was his apartment too, and he was equally stuck in it, and when he helped out with the cooking it often resulted in exciting and fun recipes, and he had great taste in movies, and he also brought his something or other console out to hook up to the TV so they could play multiplayer games (after another delivery of extra controllers, of course), but. But! Logan was still never not on edge around him. Remus just… rubbed him the wrong way.

Oh god, wrong word choice there.

Patton of course got on famously with their troublemaker within the space of a few days, and started up a fierce and ongoing online Monopoly game that it seemed no one could win. Perhaps it was his experience with children, Logan thought snidely to himself on more than one occasion. He would hear them laughing together and watch Remus’s hands creeping lower and lower on Patton’s back day by day as they playfully pushed and sat near to each other, until Logan decided to just start spending more time on his work to avoid the inevitable heart attack from how high his blood pressure must be getting. And anyway he’d really let work go, what with spending so much time with Patton instead of on his projects. Just because there was a world crisis going on didn’t mean he didn’t have rent to pay. If only!

But of course Patton didn’t get the memo that this was the best course of action, and quickly grew concerned for Logan’s well-being. He instated a nightly dinner for the three of them, that he deviously used his best pleading expression to get Logan to attend, where Remus was just insufferably flirty and Logan ended up increasingly annoyed at being constantly teased. It just wasn’t very nice of Remus to taunt him with false flattery and it didn’t help that Patton had apparently moved from being equally as flustered as Logan by their hot housemate to being sort of fondly amused, in a way that spoke of… a new intimacy.

It only added to Logan’s dislike of his housemate when he walked past Remus’s bedroom to see them standing close together in the centre of the room, heads tilted so he couldn’t see their faces. He could see other things though, like the way Patton’s hands gripped at Remus’s waist, and Remus’s hand in Patton’s hair.

So that just added the cherry on top of the whole perfect box of proof of why Remus sucked, basically. He had not only stolen Logan’s precious peaceful friendship with Patton, and lured away all of Patton’s soft and warming smiles, but apparently didn’t even value them enough to not openly flirt with Logan whenever they were in the same room. Logan wished desperately that he didn’t still feel that irritating modicum of attraction to the man, because he really was stellar at flirting and could be incredibly charming, but he resigned himself to burying those feelings along with the hurt at how Patton had chosen Remus over him. Burying them deep, and trying to go back to how things were, before the quarantine.

And if anyone could play polite and distant, it was Logan, poster boy for IT nerds everywhere. Antisocial was basically his speciality.

He hadn’t bet on Patton.

Patton was the type of person who really took 'mom friend’ to a whole new level, and only partly because his actual literal paid job was to essentially be a stand in parent. When Logan started to pull away again he yanked back, pouting and wheedling and playing really dirty until Logan started coming back out into the living room for reading breaks again, just to stop Patton from bringing him cups of water and snacks every half an hour 'to make sure he was feeling okay’. They both knew well enough that the ulterior motive was to stop Logan from isolating himself and playing the wounded martyr, and damn it if it didn’t work. Patton was a master of this game.

“Logan, what do you think of this flower?” Patton would ask if Logan ended up in the kitchen for coffee, drawing him into a conversation about his latest embroidery project.

“Logan! Could you pop the kettle on?” Patton would smile sweetly if Logan got up from the couch, intending to go back to his room at last, easily conning him into bringing two mugs back to the couch and then distracting him again until an hour had gone by and Logan was still sat with them.

“Oh there you are Logan, settle this for me, do these stars look realistic?” Patton would bat his eyelashes if Logan finished a bathroom break, and Logan would just sigh and give in, and Remus would stifle a snicker from his own spot on the couch. Remus had also evidently been coached by Patton because he was noticeably quieter and more reserved whenever Logan had finally tentatively settled in the living room with them. Which was a real improvement, if you asked Logan.

But he still wasn’t friends with Remus, and he refused to let that last barrier be breached, even when Remus sneakily tried to join his conversations or get him to pass something at dinner, or tease him about his hair, his clothes, his work… Remus was the worst and Logan could not be convinced otherwise. His plan of hiding away from his housemates had failed because he liked Patton enough to give in just to make him happy, not because Remus was reasonably good company when he was just lounging on the couch and playing some video game with the sound considerately turned down, chipping in here and there and laughing softly at something either Logan or Patton said but not getting in the way. Even so! Logan still heard the sound of footsteps sneaking from Remus’s room to Patton’s late at night, and Remus still insisted on giving him winks and stupid seductive looks whenever he could, telling him he 'liked his company’ and he was 'actually pretty funny who knew’ and 'there’s no one to dress up for here Logan, why don’t you lose the tie?’

“I just don’t like him!” Logan hissed to his reflection one day in the bathroom. “He’s clearly dating Patton, not that either of them have said a word, and he keeps just flirting all over the place! Patton deserves better! And he’s a jerk. I like my tie! I like to maintain professional standards even if he’s decided clothes are the first to go in this time of chaos. Ugh!” He glared, yanking the tie in question off angrily and glaring at it. Maybe he’d thought he looked nice dressed up sharply with his tie and hair neatly combed each day, maybe he’d been thinking of the time Patton had complimented the little stars on the navy fabric. Maybe it was none of Remus’s business how he dressed!

“Hey, you done?” The very man in question’s voice came from the other side of the bathroom door. “I need to pee!”

Logan raised an eyebrow at his reflection, considering it. He was almost petty enough to refuse, but as always was unable not to give in, settling for yanking the door open slightly too hard. Remus, who had apparently been leaning on it for some stupid reason, stumbled inwards a bit, catching his balance on Logan’s hips. They blinked at each other, and Logan knew the moment Remus decided to say something cheeky because his eyes glinted and his mouth turned up at the corners. But not today, Satan!

“You say a word and I will tell Patton what a disrespectful boyfriend you are! I mean it!” Logan hissed, shoving Remus’s hands off with a glare and waggin a finger in his face.

“I- what the f-”

“Don’t you dare flirt with me!”

“Did you say boyfriend?!” Remus said, voice strangled, holding his hands up in the air out of the way.

“Boyfriend?” Patton said from behind them in the hall. “What boyfriend?”

Logan spluttered. “Yours! He’s trying to, to seduce me!”

All of their voices rose at once, Logan protesting his disappointment in Remus’s inability to be attentive to Patton; Patton trying to weakly protest the label and situation; and Remus protesting his accused infidelity. Louder and louder they got, stood awkwardly half in, half out of the bathroom, until Remus growled and grabbed Logan by the shoulders.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Logan!” He snapped. “So I’m going to kiss you now, unless you tell me not to.”

What.

Logan’s mouth opened and closed, cheeks on fire, like flames on the side of his face. He didn’t manage say a word, and Remus nodded decisively to himself, hauling the flustered Logan in for a strangely sweet kiss considering the tension in the air.

It didn’t last long, but Logan felt like he’d awoken into a different universe when Remus pulled back again, looking at him carefully. “Well?” He asked. Logan wondered why Remus would sound like he couldn’t breathe when clearly he’d stolen all of Logan’s air. “Does that compute, I, Lo-bot?”

Logan frowned a little at the nickname, but Remus’s expression was slightly nervous and mostly hopeful, not cruel or mean looking. And Patton, when Logan glanced over Remus’s shoulder, was holding his hands clasped in front of his mouth, eyes huge and round, bouncing a little with what looked like excited anticipation. “Um. That- Excuse me, I seem to have misunderstood a few things.”

“Yeah no kidding,” Remus muttered. “Alright, ask your questions science dude.”

“You aren’t with Patton?”

“Ah well, sort of?” Patton stepped a little closer, lowering his hands to smile at them, hooking his chin over Remus’s shoulder. “It’s not like, exclusive, that’s not really the point. And not your thing, right?” He murmured to Remus, who shook his head, eyes still on Logan.

Okay, add that to the 'known facts’ memory banks to add to the equation then. “So you aren’t cheating on Patton by flirting with me?”

“No!” Patton and Remus replied at the same time, sounding equally offended.

“Okay! Sorry. But you were actually flirting with me?” Logan checked.

The question received a snort and an eye roll. “I mean, yeah. I thought you were just playing hard to get, you kept ogling me so I figured you were definitely interested. But then you got all huffy, so I tried to cool it a bit and Patton said you might be jealous of us a little bit, but then you kept giving me all these like, looks, so I went back to like, trying to be nice and everything but you still just…” Remus shrugged helplessly.

Right, yes. The glances, the blushing… In his own defence he had mostly written it all off as just anger, but it was fair enough that Remus had interpreted the attention a little differently based on the whole fact that he was unaware Logan thought he was cheating.“And… you would like to develop some form of… alternative relationship with myself as well?”

“Yeah!” Patton interrupted, grinning his sweet, bright grin. He slipped a hand past Remus’s waist to take Logan’s hand and squeeze it. “All three of us, doesn’t that sound cool?! I mean, uh, if you want me too, that’s okay if not, I can just share this gu-”

“Oh god yes,” Logan nearly burst with the words. “I mean, yes! I would- yes. Hm. That would be very pleasing. And intriguing. I wonder how-”

Remus tugged him back in close, cupping his face right there in the bathroom doorway with a grin that turned wry. “Oh Logan. I can show you pleasing. But first I gotta pee guys, genuinely!”

They let Remus escape and close the door, and Patton gently led Logan out to the living room, sitting close beside him and turning to face him.

He cleared his throat softly, and Logan thought the nanny looked really beautiful with his cheeks all softly pink, giving him one of those treasured smiles that wiped all thoughts of logistics and practicalities and regrets away. “So. Not a bad way to pass the quarantine then, you reckon?” Patton murmured, brushing some of Logan’s hair back behind his ear and resettling his glasses neatly on his nose for him, before leaning in to steal a kiss of his own.

No, Logan thought a few nights later; sandwiched between his two housemates on the floor, lounging on the cushions they’d laid out for a movie night and warm from their body heat, the way Remus stroked his hair and made constant amusing comments on the movie, and how Patton was cuddling his arm and playing with his fingers, occasionally burying his face into Logan’s shoulder to smother his giggles.

Not a bad way at all.

–

The End

[daonepiece]

Hey you precious little cute artist chwan! Its me from heaven! You know the cause of this. That Sanji art... how could you make it so freaking amazing? Do you know how people will die seeing it? Have you ever wondered how creative you are? Do you even know how blessed we are to have you in this community? I blushed like an idiot looking at him.

Talking about the Sanji art, why was it so perfect? I need you to explain for making him exceptionally Gorgeous. The concept... how did you get the concept of All Green and now you are making it my obsession. How did you come up with it? Damn that was so creative. I became crazy over that Idea. Im in love... in love... with you and also Sanji. Thanks for making that art. From next time don't forget to keep your signature. I don't want people to steal your art.

Eeeeeeee you keep spoiling me afhjkas hehehe what am I gonna do I’m about to explode >///w///<

So, you wanna talk about thought process? I’d LOVE to! Please prepare to hear me gushing about it. It gonna be veeeryyyy looonggg   ( ◕▿◕ )

Since Sanji was the first one to be designed, I was nervous at everything *wobbling novice sea witch at your service 👍* The first step is to choose what kind of fish. I like marine life but I didn’t like them that much to know more than a few common name. Initially I thought of dolphin, since they are very smart, and also a lil perv... And they blow clouds of water when they surface to breath, like someone’s smoking! So I started doing research to select a fitting species.

But while I was reading through various dolphin descriptions, two words caught my attention: FAST SWIMMER. I was like, wait who’s the fastest in the ocean??? So my research had come to a swift turning point, I abandoned the dolphin list to go through articles of “fastest fish in the world” instead. That’s where I found out about the Black Marlin. Things clicked in place even faster than Sanji’s Diable Jambe 😆

The second step is to choose what he would wear, I just knew it had to be a white poet shirt, because Sanji. 👀 Took a few more look at the royal family attire and I was like, “yup! poet shirt and waist band, flowy flowy in the sea, seal the deal!” (you can see that in the initial sketch) This soon went through more changes, but at later stage.

The third step is to choose the vibe, setting, pose he’d be in. 3 words stuck with me whenever I think of Sanji: sadness (you could say he’s feeling blue, you know?, blue! 🤓), curiosity, and dream. So here we had pre-timeskip Sanji, maybe even a bit younger, the viewpoint going up, Sanji looking up too, like how one kept wondering about the strange world above but couldn’t go there, stuck in the depth of the ocean. Adding a book because he’s definitely a nerd! It’s supposed to be a cookbook or the encyclopedia of devil fruits. The fourth step is lining. Troubles ensued! Lots of! The pose was haaarddd and I just couldn’t get the shirt hem to look right, it didn’t flow like I wanted, the tail design seemed bland, also his hair bang wanted to make me an enemy... I struggled, and the clock was ticking fast! So of course I did what an impatient one like me always do: Change the hard part. I got rid of the flowy hem, decided to tuck it neatly in a leather-like band, eased up the pose, switched to post-timeskip design, enlarged the fins for dramatic effect, in the first place there were a line of diamond shape running along his tail (the part that helps a fish sense water pressure and stuffs, if I remember correctly), I turned that into Sanji’s swirls as well. The chosen book in the end was “Noland the Liar” because I wanted to slip in a mer!Noland and see if anyone would notice hehe.. Strings at collar and waist was added last as an attempt to balance the amount of black and white on character. Background was simply a bunch of water flows and bubbles, I tried to portray a fast current, hushing our boy to swim away, back to safe home. The final silhouette and line of action wasn’t as nice as the sketch’s, but I’m not picky. *laziness will overwrite everything*

Finally, we crawled to the step I dreaded the most: coloring and shading... The tone was dark blue, giving of an even more ominous feeling I suppose? The next was this agonizing process of making the first thing to caught your eyes is his face, or better, his eyes, but definitely not his butt. TT_TT The black area was so strong, at one point I considered giving the (now blue) sea a plain black filling to neutralize the effect.

While taking care of the treacherous background, I pondered what Sanji’s All Blue would be, now that mermaid’s diet doesn’t include fish... 😂 Like, as a vegan cook, Sanji would want to get his hand on all kind of vegetable available in both world, sea and land? Then we must have the myth of a place, home to every plant possible? What’s the name?? All Green??? Yeah, All Green sounds legit. When the piece was finally done, I uploaded it so fast I forgot the extra step of slapping on watermark! XD

Annnnd that’s that! That’s the whole process I went through drawing mer!Sanji. Thank you for hearing me out > 3 < 💖