#god damn this has been sitting in my drafts too long lol

[the-irken-pony]

Compilation of disorganized facts (and derived headcanons) about The Henry Stickmin Collection's "narrator"

First thing’s first, since I typed more than I should’ve for a single bullet point.

Who is this “narrator” anyways?

In this post I’m talking about the implied source of the fail screens, bios, and certain other interactions in the game (which I’ll get into as we go. It’s implied that this character is the same across these different sources of meta interactions.

It is possible that this character is a self-insert of PuffballsUnited, but for the sake of this post we'll assume that this isn't Actually Puff. I feel weird tying my blorbo detail-plucking thoughts to an actual person and don’t want anyone making assumptions about Puff based on anything listed here, plus certain things may be added, exaggerated, omitted, etc. to the character for comedic effect in a way that further delineates the two. (tl;dr narrator ≠ author)

The wiki (derogatory) notes a theory that this character could be Wilson Stone. Granted, it’s not an entirely groundless theory: there is no message on the fail screen for D.E.B., which could be seen as a result of Wilson dying. I disagree with this for a couple of reasons: Wilson is referred to in the third person in his bio, the narrator makes a disdainful comment about the CCC having a surplus of nukes in CtM (there’s little reason for Wilson to be opposed to nukes but not a dark energy bomb), and Wilson’s voice is different from the narrator’s (I’ll get to that later).

The general fandom consensus that I've seen uses "the narrator", but this character/being/whatever isn't known by any name officially, nor any pronouns. For simplicity's sake, I'll refer to this character as "the meta" or “the meta voice” and use they/them and it/its interchangeably for them (partly to distinguish from the large surplus of male characters). I prefer “meta” over “narrator” and “commentator” because it doesn’t really narrate anything, it gives more than just commentary, and just because it rolls off the tongue better.

More on the meta

It comments frequently on Henry’s stupidity, but it’s hard to truly baffle them. Not that Henry hasn’t managed to before in fails such as Cheese and Distract.

Getting the obvious out of the way, they’re known to crack jokes of all sorts, including memes, wordplay, references, & callbacks.

Lots of these jokes are at the expense of Henry, the player, or someone else. It frequently makes disparaging comments about the player or Henry in general; more common jabs include fatphobic comments toward Henry or making fun of the player’s poor skill.

Speaking of Henry and the player, it typically uses “you” for both you (the player) and Henry himself, but it does also differentiate between us and Henry, such as in the Duplicatorange fail and Toppy fails, even noting you to not be a stick figure

Not only are they aware of the player and Henry as separate, but they’re also aware that you’re playing a game.

The meta seems to have the most control over the timeline, including what counts as a “fail” and when a fail cuts off, as shown in the duplicatorange and invisibility pill fails.

It has a certain amount of control over the nature of the game itself. The slingshot fail in FtC has them creating various popups that the player must click through to get an achievement. This power isn’t limitless though: the CorrupTick fail in particular shows that things can fall out of their control.

They’re capable of summoning objects (this is implied in Dance Off v4 and outright confirmed in the Lockpick fail).

The free transform option also shows that it has the ability to directly alter people in-universe. The mind control fail implies that it may also be able to outright control people to an extent, but finds this difficult and thus avoids doing so.

They seem to exist in a flux state between being “the game master” and simply being a bystander. It knows at least a little bit about nearly every character in the game and has some control over the environment, but it also reacts to events as though it’s just a spectator and seeing things for the first time.

On a related note, they seem to be in a state between being “in” the game and existing outside of it. Things that would wipe out everyone in the vicinity have no effect on it, but things that alter things on a meta level (such as the corrupted disk, Goodball, and CorrupTick fails) do affect them in various ways.

They aren’t omniscient. They have info on nearly everyone, but they don’t know everything. A lot of their comments in fails seem to be guesswork, and their bios for some people, notably Ellie, are very lacking.

It can feel pain. They complain about their ears hurting from the high pitched sound of the sonic pulse. At the same time, it isn’t nearly as sensitive as Henry or other stick figures and can survive the subsonic wave with little consequence.

It can, supposedly, use the bathroom.

The duplicatorange and invisibility pill both imply that the meta voice has some sentimental attachment to Henry, triggering a fail screen whenever they lose track of Henry.

Related to the above, it seems to have a vested interest in keeping Henry alive, despite having killed Henry themself. Revenged is notable as an ending for the fact that Henry dies in every outcome, and The Betrayed isn’t much better in this regard.

It also shows mild concern for Henry’s wellbeing in RPE/RBH, asking him if his head is okay.

While it’s unknown if they know all languages, they do at least seem to know German, specifically commenting on Friedrich Spielen’s nonsensical German.

They can sleep and even dream; in the G-inverter fail they comment that they “had a nightmare like this”. It’s unknown whether they need sleep or if sleep is simply recreational for them.

I don’t know if the above indicates that they used to be affected by gravity or if they simply had a dream about being affected by gravity, but given their ability to simply hover at a point in the air or even outer space, they probably aren’t affected by gravity at any point that we know them.

The meta is aware of other timelines, making a reference to Charles during the helicopter fail in Toppat King.

While it doesn’t have a known physical appearance, it does occasionally emote with hand-drawn “emoticons”, some of which are even animated.

On rare occasions, it can conjure Twitch emotes or even a full animation of a stick figure.

Feel free to add if you think of anything!

[ghost-whump]

Shower Day

CW: kidnapped whumpee, defiant whumpee, sadistic whumper, waterboarding(?), hypothermia (mentioned), nudity (mentioned), let me know if I missed anything!

Whumper entered the basement with loud, clunking steps down the stairs. They flick the light on when they reach the bottom.

“Hh—” Whumpee hissed and covered their eyes, heavy manacles pressing coldly into their cheeks. “Fucking hell.”

“Rise and shine, fuckface.”

With a drawn out groan, Whumpee blinked until the light wasn’t so painful. They scooted farther back into “their” corner of the basement, drawing closer to the wall, as if they could be absorbed into it.

They turned to face the wall, the smallest act of defiance they could express, “Go away.”

“No can do, Whumpee,” Whumper’s footsteps grew closer, “It’s shower day for you.”

That perked them up. A shower? A real, honest-to-god shower? Hot damn, that sounded good! Whumpee managed the barest hint of a smile at the prospect. Their hair, caked with blood and grease and other various substances, grew unbearably thick and disgusting to even think about. And that’s not even mentioning their soiled clothes.

Rubbing at their eyes, Whumpee brought themselves to turn around. And their smile dropped.

Whumper held a hose and a bucket.

At their pained expression, Whumper chuckled, “Oh? You thought you got a real shower?” They put the bucket on the floor and took a step closer, “Sorry for the mislead, Whumpee.”

The water hit them suddenly. Frigid, icy water hit their skin like a jet — definitely enough force to bruise, at least. They cried out, futilely holding their arms out in front of them. The cold water sprayed onto their body like bullets, dousing their hair and clothes all in less than a minute.

Then, the water tapered off.

Whumpee spit some water out of their mouth. It tasted like shit, nothing like the refreshing hose water they’d had as a kid.

“Whoops.” Whumper smiled.

Then it started again. This time, with so much pressure, Whumpee was knocked back into the wall. The hose turned off.

Whumpee heaved, “Fuck yo—ACK!”

Over and over, the water turned on and off, on and off, on and off. Friction burns raised on their arms from where they tried to protect themselves. The chill of the cool, stagnant basement air started to seep into their skin, sending a shiver through their whole body.

“That should be good.” Whumper dropped the hose to the floor (much to Whumpee’s relief) and turned their attention towards the bucket. They pulled out a gray towel and turned back. “Give me your clothes now, Whumpee.”

They stood there, shivering. “What?”

“You heard me — give me your clothes. They’re all soaked now.” Though they spoke pragmatically, their grinning leer said anything but.

“Fuck n-no. I-I’m not getting n-naked in front of you.” Their teeth chattered loudly, telegraphing how cold they really were.

Whumper turned around, picking the bucket back up. “Fine, then. No towel for you, I guess.” They started back towards the stairs, “A shame, really. I had it heated up on the radiator and everything. It’s supposed to be even colder tonight, too. I’d hate to have my poor Whumpee freeze…”

Whumpee remained silent.

“Well, goodnight, Whumpee.” They flipped the lights off.

“W-Wait!”

The lights turned back on as quick as they shut off. Whumper turned, so so slowly. “What do you say?”

“Pl-please?”

this has been sitting in my drafts for SOOO long and i’ve never posted it. since i haven’t written anything in a while, i thought i might as well post it lol

thank for reading!!!

General Tag: @morning-star-whump

[apoptoses]

One of the many things Anne said over the years that has always haunted me is how Daniel deliberately left out a lof of things about Armand from IWTV. Specifically about his looks. He's described as being simple, beautiful and having dark eyes but not much else, and at first I thought that maybe Anne hadn't gone into detail because she hadn't fleshed out the character that much, but the fact that she rationalized it as Daniel very intentionally leaving that type of information about Armand out of the audience's reach is SO fascinating to me because... at that point they'd already begun their cat and mouse game and were beginning to fall for each other, so Daniel getting all possessive (and protective dare I say???) about Armand is just so sdjfhjsfjskhdsjk. In his mind, the world was ready for the goriest, most horrific aspects of Louis' tale, but it wasn't ready to know just how beautiful Armand was.

What a timely ask, anon. I've been having a lot of (literal and metaphorical) death of the author thoughts lately.

I think it's really hard to say what Anne intended to do at any given time. She was very open about the fact that she outlined little, just tended to sit down at the keyboard and see what happened, and so I think people can go around and around with these continuity issues until kingdom come. But the truth of it is like...she wrote about these vampires for nearly 50 years, she probably forgot some stuff and made up some other stuff to try to bridge those gaps.

I personally assume the Daniel keeping these details to himself thing was something she said to cover why this info was coming out in playboy vs an actual book but it is a really fun think to think about, isn't it?

(being completely honest, when I wrote that line in my fic about Daniel hoarding the details of Armand's appearance for himself I was just making shit up, I didn't even realize Anne had said anything like that until after lol So nice to know she and I shared a braincell for that one brief moment)

My personal head canon is that some he left out because his editors were like 'dude, this book is getting way too long and frankly this is gratuitous' (like that story that ended up in playboy? Daniel was desperate for some cash to travel on and so he dragged that sordid bit of smut out of his drafts and tossed it in the mail). The rest- god, he just really couldn't believe anyone could be that good looking. Maybe he assumed Louis had idealized him in his mind, maybe he decided no reader would find someone so beautiful palatable (especially in light of some of the things Armand let happen).

And then also a secret third thing, where Daniel has always kinda had a thing for redheads with big brown eyes and shit, did Louis know that about him and describe Armand like that just to mess with him or is there really some hot little blood sucking guy running around out there, being the smoke show of his dreams?

It's fun to wonder about, like it's fun to wonder about what all Lestat and Daniel left out of that chapter in queen of the damned. I hate that we don't have more content from them but I do love how many gaps we can fill in ourselves.

[introvertbard]

Hey there folks, I really appreciate stumbling on the logistics-nerd side of Tumblr! Can some of these 6000-ish people throw some of that attention towards my actual writing, too?

I also have short stories!

SEA-DEMONS - I saw a sweet and fluffy prompt about selkies, reread selkie folklore as an adult and found out the terrible implications that would go over a lot of kids' heads, and I went, "YOU KNOW WHO WOULDN'T FUCK AROUND WITH BRIDE-KIDNAPPING??? THE BANTAY-TUBIG!" Content warnings for stated (but not shown) man-eating, because one of the few things that Filipinos agree on is "do not fuck with the merfolk."

-

THE SEA-GOD'S CHILDREN - Another prompt from Tumblr, where the Tagalog sea-god Haik visits a village/barangay and accidentally reverses their river's current. After the understandable dismay when the local plant-life and fish die, Haik does some damage control by speed-growing coconut trees and mangroves for them.

-

WHALE FALL (OR, LOLO TANDAYAG) - A very long short-story that my writing coach wondered might be better as a novella, lol. Blanca Gutierrez works at Harvard University as a cook, and she likes to visit the Museum of Natural History. One day, the sperm whale's skeleton mysteriously comes loose and demolishes everything on the way down--as unknown to mortals, the "whale" was actually a Tagalog whale-spirit, and no less than his tribe's chief. A couple generations later, his flaky grandson is now trying to recover his bones. Key word is TRYING, because he's not a good burglar--what with injuring Blanca, revealing his presence/existence to her, and alarming a whole city about the "freak accident" he caused, so his angry dad decides to finish the job himself.

This was indeed based off the Black Panther museum heist, lol. Content warnings for moderate injuries, references to colonization, and family death/trauma (what with having your father's/grandfather's body taken and displayed in a museum).

Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that

Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/

I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.

Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask

Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember

Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my

--

I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.

I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.

People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.

But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.

The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.

The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.

Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.

If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).

Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.

If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.

Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."

And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"

Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."

This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.

A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.

NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.

If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.

Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.

As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.

Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.

—

UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.

But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!

Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.

Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.

The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.

Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )

[dearcharms]

I finished playing Mozu's route again.

And there is a long ramble sitting in my tumblr drafts reading WAYYY too deeply into the romance of his route. I was desperate and determined to find something... anything. LOL

I'll post it at some point in the next week, but just so you know, I'm blaming you for it. XD

Also, side note as I stalk your blog, Taiga is a great character and I love him, too. You have really good taste in otome boys. :D

OMG I actually have no idea how long this has been sitting in my inbox, I’m so sorry I was definitely not spending the past few days going batshit insane over Shigehira LMAO

Ahhh omg I didn’t expect you to actually THIS soon!!! I am so happy!!! I am looking forward to your write-up because I really want to see how you view Mozu’s route! I’m more than willing to take full blame for what happened. :p Also did you replay the route of your best boy Shu along the way?

LMAO THANK YOU!!! YOU HAVE GREAT TASTE TOO 😂 Is your fave also Taiga? 👀 I actually only completed Taiga’s route for the game. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t too interested in the game as a whole and the other LIs were a huge turn off for me lol. I picked Taiga as a route because I thought he’d fit best with Hibari considering how he was the only one who wasn’t all over her during the common route, so I was really surprised when that reveal happened RIGHT AFTER Hibari chooses Taiga. I totally didn’t see that coming LOL it was a great surprise! It was all cute until board 3 and all of a sudden everything got too real and I got heartbroken LOL.

Also responding to your reply in one of my posts, I’m going to combine it here: omg yesss you actually put it quite nicely, Noritsune looks so much more approachable. His low ponytail is seriously doing things to me HAHAHA I just finished his route recently and good god. That was the best route I’ve EVER played. The pacing and dynamic and characterization and romance are all so PERFECT, his route is so tightly written and there’s not a single scene wasted between Shanao and Noritsune. Even though he’s my fave route, Noritsune isn’t my fave LI (it’s Shigehira.... don’t ask me why......... the damn IF ending got me so bad..........) I can’t bring myself to see Noritsune as a LI when he and Shanao are so perfect for each other, I don’t want to get in their way LMFAO

[mulberrysilk]

HELLOO, NETTE 💕💕💕 how are youuu?? the nii-chan thirst has summoned me here once again! I am sorry if I am sending another one again but you've written the thirsts I've sent so perfectly 🥺. I would write these ideas if I had your talent but sucks to say that my English is v poor rn.

So hmm, if this is okay.... Sukuna-nii catching you napping in Yuuji's room in your uniform. You just looked so innocent and so defenseless sleeping that he's overcome with the urge to touch you. He just needs a taste for now. Soon though, he's going to have you awake and willing (for the future lol if you really want to turn this into a series) 🥲. Thank youuuu. I hope you are having a great day there! -Getou-nii anon

GETOU-NII ANON!!! 🥺💕 hi I love your brain ( I’m doing okay huhu just trying to work through my drafts HAHA)

Sukuna x f!reader

cw: noncon, somnophillia, corruption, pseudoincest, oral ( female receiving), thigh fucking

( this has been sitting in my drafts for so long, and I Decided to finally post it huhu)

The house was uncharacteristically quiet, he thinks, as he drops his bag at the door and places his helmet on top of the shoe cabinet. He glances at the clock and raises a brow, wondering where the the loud obnoxious laughter from Yuuji and Nobara, was and where was the grumbles from that Fushiguro kid. Weren’t all of you back from school? Club activities never kept Yuuji and the gang busy.

Sukuna sighs as he unzips his leather jacket, hanging it on the coat rack before jogging up the steps to change into much more comfortable clothes, in need of a beer after his day. On the way, though everything seemed to be a blur, he catches something in his peripheral vision at the open door of his younger brother’s room. Pausing in the hall, he scoffs. It can’t be. Right?

He takes two careful steps backwards and stops right in front of his brother’s door frame, lips parting and breath catching in his chest at the unexpected, delightful sight. On the navy plaid comforter covering the single bed, splayed on top was the object of his desires. His eyes traces your form from the tip of your thigh high socks covered toes, the exposed skin of your thighs to the hem of your pleated skirt that if it rode up higher would probably expose your panties. To the white button up blouse that wasn’t sheer but he could make out the shape of your bra through the fabric and maybe even the colour, if he guesses right, it was pale pink. But most heart wrenchingly irresistible was the sight of your relaxed features, sleeping peacefully away, hair splayed around you in a beautiful mess. It was picturesque.

Is today his lucky day? Or is this an elaborate  prank—no it couldn’t be. His little brother isn’t one for pranks, too much of a goody two shoes for his own good. His feet moves before he could process it, getting closer and closer to you, lying there so still, so vulnerable.  You looked good enough to eat.

You toss and turn on the bed, the heat from the summer season unrelenting even with the fan on. Still asleep, a little frown on your face, brows knitting from the god damn heat, if you weren’t so sleepy you would have removed the stuffy fabric of your uniform, plus the heat didn’t help with the lethargy that weighed your body to sink into the soft bed.

Sukuna’s dark orbs rakes your twitching form, your skirt so high up now that he could see the cute little panties you wore,breath hitching at the faint silhouette of your pretty lower lips. He draws nearer to the bed, his body already tingling with excitement and arousal. How innocent you looked before him like this, limbs moving to find a comforting position as you sleep, revealing more and more of the heaven between your thighs.

The thigh high socks squeezed the soft pillowy flesh of your thighs and he couldn’t resist the urge to feel. He softly hums to himself, keeping his eyes on your face as he caresses the skin of your inner thighs, softly pinching the fat, thoughts of having your legs thrown over his shoulders as he eats your pussy out filling his head.

Hell, if you didn’t wake up, he might do just that. So let’s see how far he could go, how far he could play with you before your dumb little brain gathers itself together.

Kneeling between your thighs, the mattress dips in his weight and slowly, he adjust himself to lie on his tummy, face close to your clothed cunt. He deeply inhales, he could almost taste you on his tongue. Soon. He needs to feel more.

Sukuna experimentally ghosts his index finger on your clit, slowly tracing the slit of you cunny, his eyes on your face to look out for any signs of waking up. And when you didn’t, he continues to rub you. Pressing against your clit and getting you wet so that he could drench your panties till it clings to your mound.

He holds back his scoff with how eat it was for him to get your pussy wet, well, he shouldn’t be surprised, you were a virgin after all. You were sensitive to these things. Well, you won’t have to worry, Sukuna nii’s gonna teach you and take care of you.

Hooking his finger at the fabric, he pulls it to the side, groaning softly at these sight of your glistening folds, not able to hold back to feel the warm slick on his fingers and sucking his fingers, eyes closing at the sweet taste of you.

Just a taste, he thinks. Just a little taste.

Sukuna manages to shimmy down the fabric from your legs, shoving your panties in his pocket before he kisses your throbbing clit, a soft wince slipping from you.

“Stay dumb and pretty for me baby, if you know what’s good for you,” he utters, voice deep with a twinge of danger in them and as if you had heard him, your brows knit and you shift a little, remaining fast asleep. “Good girl.” He grins.

Tongue darting out, he licks from your clit to your pulsing hole, hands fisting the sheets as he becomes intoxicated with your cunt. He slurps and Laos your spilling honey, switching from suckling on your clit to teasing his tongue in and out your hole.

“Mhm…” you sleepily groan, body arching off the bed a little, the growing heat in your belly making you try to open your eyes, believing that you were having a dream. Your clit was pulsating, waves of pleasure making your toes curl and thighs tremble. You body feels good. So, so good.

Sukuna’s predatory gaze stares at your scrunched up face, your glossy lips slightly parted as your breathing quickens. He makes quick work of his tongue, flicking it in quick motions on your clit and sucking till the obscene sounds of your wet pussy and his slurping bounced off the walls.

A hand grips your thigh as he growls. Were you enjoying this? Seems like you were. Your hands were clutching the pillow underneath your head and your hips would buck when he sucks on your clit too hard. Sukuna makes it a goal to make you cum and he wasn’t going to let a single drop of your release go to waste, he’ll make sure of it.

Gently, moving your thighs to rest on his shoulders, he was given more movement to bury his face in your sweet cunt, slipping his tongue past that tight ring at your entrance and fucking with you with it, his nose rubbing against your clit.

You begin to softly moan, whining so cutely and thrashing a little on the bed. You were close. Knowing that he continues his assault on your cunt, loving the way your thighs wrap around his head and how cute your shy cries of pleasure were.

It was a miracle that you hadn’t woken up, but what Sukuna didn’t know and what worked in his advantage, was that you believed you were having a dream. Having glimpses of his pink hair, blurry images of his head between your thighs, something you couldn’t quite gather due to how your mind was fogged your with pleasure. You wonder if you had been dreaming of Yuuji.

“Y-Yuuji,” you squeak, eyes going wide as your back arches, a shock of pleasure violently ripping through your body, your vision going white for a millisecond.

Sukuna growls at the wrong name you had cried out, and continued to suck and fuck his tongue in your soaking hole, overstimulating you as punishment. You thrash and try to kick him away, but he grips your thighs and keeps them on his shoulders.

“S-stop,” you murmured, eyelids heavy with sleep and the high of an orgasm. “T-too much…too much.”

And when he finally slows down, lazily lapping your cunt to keep the sweet taste of you on his tongue, he glances up only to find you fast asleep. He scoffs. He didn’t really care if you had woken up, maybe you would’ve begged him to stuff you virgin cunt with his cock.

But this was enough, for now.

Sukuna’s cock aches in his jeans and he couldn’t help but to move from his place between your thighs and press them together, unzipping his pants and pulling down his briefs so that his cock could spring free. Inner thighs slick with your release, he slips his cock between the pillowy flesh sighing at that warmth and softness of your skin.

He swears, he’ll just do this and it was enough, he had more self control than that. Besides, if he was gonna fuck you he wanted you to be awake and begging. So needy for him and wanting only him. That’s when he’ll give you the honour of being split by his cock.

This little taste was enough for him. He had time.

A loud buzzing accompanied by your ringtone wakes you from your slumber. You quickly pat the bed for your phone to answer the call only to miss it.

Missed call from Yuuji.

‘Sorry I’m not back yet, the bakery has big sale and the lines really long. But it’ll be worth it! I’ll be back with tiramisu!!!”

You sit up, taking in the room around you, the sun had set and the stars were twinkling in the sky. How long had you slept? Why was Yuuji not back yet?

Rubbing your thighs together you freeze, becoming completely aware of something sticky and wet on your skin. There was translucent white splatters of something slimey and creamy on your thighs, and your frown deepens at the absence of your underwear.

Were you not dreaming?! You panic. Did Yuuji really do that to you? But he wasn’t home, then who—

“Hey,” the door swings open and you throw the blanket over your legs, wide eyes shooting to the door.

“Yuuji is still out. Brat told me to make you dinner, so come down before it gets cold.”

[essaysbyciara]

It’s Been A Long Time | Nebraska Williams x Black!PlusSize Reader [Part 1/?]

Warnings: language, smut thoughts (my ministry!)

So this has been in my drafts for a *HOT MINUTE* but that photo of Trevante in high school triggered a release. If people dig where it could be going, I will add it to my list of stuff to finish and open up a taglist. I’ll try my best to do so, I promise! lol

“God, I played this album out…” Lil’ Wayne’s seminal album, The Carter, didn’t age at all. Back in 2004, Wayne was a secret about to bubble over to superstardom, just years shy of lollipops and Static Major (rest in peace). Wayne represented the teenage angst of your time, even though you toiled in the suburbs while he wrestled with the streets. But as “On My Own” damn near explodes your factory speakers, a high pitch ping from your phone pauses your trip down memory lane. 

Message from Sheena: Let’s catch up before the babies wake up. 

You hit the call button on your dash once you stop at a red light. 

“Girl, hey. You on your way to work?”

“Ain’t I always, Shi Shi? Damn near almost overslept. Thought I missed my flight.” 

Sheena, or Shi Shi, is the epitome of a best-friend-forever. You two met in Ms. Grayson’s civics class, 11th grade. On the first day of school, you rolled into third period wearing a Scream Tour II t-shirt and if you were to describe Sheena in that moment, jealous wasn’t even the word.  She stanned hard for Lil’ Bow Wow but her mom wouldn’t let her go to the concert because she got caught with a boy in her room. That boy is now the husband half-way responsible for the twin girls she’s hoping will give her some grace by sleeping a little bit longer. 

“Damn. You wanna gift some of that sleep to these twins, God mommy?”

“Only if you gift me some of those post-pregnancy boobs, Mommy Dearest,”

“Can’t do that. Jarell been having too much fun with those!” 

“Girl, eww. I don’t need to know all that.”

You kinda did. Sheena’s stories were always live, wild and uncut. And the only fireworks you’ve been adjacent to in months since you broke up with that lame stockbroker, Keith. You curve around the airport parking lot as Sheena starts digging deep into her latest soft-core episode with her husband since the six weeks ain’t up yet. In between interjections of how nasty Jarrell could be and watching planes taxi in the distance, you cruise through Instagram to take inventory of what your day might be like. 

Managing social media for the biggest sports publication in the country was not the fulfillment of a dream after high school because, shit,  social media didn’t exist when you were in high school. But it’s what has you just hours away from a flight to the NFL Combine in Indianapolis, sitting in a parking lot, listening to your BFF’s slow burn sexcapades. You break up the audio immersion experience once your timeline displays something else to ruminate over.

“Sheena! Shi -- shut up! I can’t believe - you remember Lisa from high school? She got married ...and it ain’t to Brasco.” 

“Whaaaa… you can finally stop making u-turns in the hallway and snag your man!”

You didn’t appreciate the lowly dig from your friend about Nebraska “Brasco” Williams, star running back, track champion and boy so fine he made both Omarion and J-Boog look like ogres. Your high school crush had you shook to your pubescent core; pretty teeth, deep skin tone and two tattoos before the age of eighteen. You’d see him in the student parking lot with the rest of the football team and you’d rush to your car as if it would go home without you. He was too hot to handle. You were beyond envious that Lisa could. 

“Lisa ain’t do too bad. Her man is crazy fine. I mean, not Brasco fine but still…” 

“Man,  he had high school going crazy. I wonder what happened to him after that fight? I should stalk him on Facebook while I pump.” You laugh so hard, the couple walking past your car stops their argument to stare at you. 

Your laughs break once you realize you might actually miss that flight. You relegate Shi Shi to kiss the twins for you and to send his Facebook profile if she can actually find it. You tried years ago and failed. 

“Aight, fave. I will.  Love you. Text me when you touch down in Indy.” 

As you weave through the terminal, your mind thinks back to the days at New Birth High School. While it brought you joy in a forever friend and the launching point for your forever career in sports journalism, it did bring you one of the most hurtful days of your life that took years to shake. 

It was the summer going into your senior year. Lisa’s sweet sixteen pool party. No way in Hell you thought you’d be there but your Mom and Lisa’s stepmom sat on the same deacon board at church and somehow thought you two were friends; Lisa paid you dust in those hallways. You fretted over every part of your outfit, especially the swim shoes you didn’t want but your Dad picked up at Sports Authority. But you were fretting the most over your swimsuit, a red one-piece with a deep open back. It was sexy for a 16-year-old, to be honest, but you secretly tried it on at the mall and fell in love with it -- especially how it made you feel. 

You fell in deep love with your body that day. The way the swimsuit clenched your waist, giving your almost-pear shape some definition you’d never seen before. Your hips sat wide, your breast placed taunt, just peeking through the sides, showing off a crescent shaped birthmark right below your collarbone. It was Jet Beauty of the Week-esque and it made you feel on top of the world. Something that society kept telling you a plus-size teenage girl was not to feel. You used the last of your paper route money to buy it and hid your secret weapon in the back of your closet until the day arrived. You were hoping to get some boy’s attention -- especially Brasco. But you’d take anybody’s glare if you could get it. 

You were in the clear once your Mom dropped you and Sheena both off at Lisa’s back gate. As you walked into the party, the sounds of the local hip-hop and R&B radio station blasted throughout her huge backyard. So much fun was had -- so much splash and dash -- that the faint sounds of “Knuck If You Buck” failed to erupt a party full of teenagers it was made for. The pool seemed tempting in 90-plus heat but most of the temptation came from the jacuzzi next to it. There inside sat Brasco, his lanky on-field wide receiver sidekick Kenny and Jarell, Sheena’s partner-in-bedroom-bust crime looking delicious in their highlighter-color swim trunks. You were still figuring out your body and the reactions conjured up from the sight of water droplets chasing down their backs confused you even more. But the heat of the sun -- and the heat from your body -- got too much to bear. That pool called your name. 

You stripped off your t-shirt and denim shorts, leaving your swim shoes back by the picnic table. They clashed. Your nerves splashed together like the water you couldn’t wait to feel, battering against your heart. Were you ready for all this attention? Amongst the rest of the classmates, you disappeared. You weren’t popular. People knew of you but didn’t know you, only associating you with Sheena by proxy of Jarell. “My Goodies” came on the radio, providing you a soundtrack and a sign from God. Before you could answer the call, Sheena jumped into the pool. You tossed your glasses on top of your clothes and did the same. 

The water felt golden. Sheena smacked your face with sheets of chlorinated goodness. Too much fun was had by all, even Lisa joined in the fun. Suddenly the entire football team did too except Brasco and Jarell, languishing on the edge of the jacuzzi because like most boys from their side of town, they didn’t know how to swim. Lisa saw her boo in isolation and tapped Sheena on the shoulder. 

“Hey, Shi Shi. Let’s get in the jacuzzi.” Sheena grabbed your hand to guide you out of the pool. You weren’t expecting to see your Mom at the other end. Sheena didn’t grab you to join her in the warm bubbles, she got you out at the angry-faced-behest of your mother. You both were going home. The party silenced and stares followed as everyone watched your walk-of-shame to grab your clothes. You got what you wanted in the worst way possible. 

Your unholy exodus commenced when Lisa’s mom called yours to report what she saw: this red bathing suit too revealing for a little girl to wear. It wasn’t the green ruffled mess-of-a-bathing-suit from last year. She claimed to witness stares and whispers and “boobs hanging out, butt all out.” Your mom got over there quicker than a church shout. She waited to scold you after she dropped off Sheena. 

It was a Sunday School scolding like no other. Tears pooled deep like the one you were just having fun in. You tossed the bathing suit into the trash bin. You were never going to see it again. 

The announcement of your flight breaks you out of your day nightmare. Grabbing the handle on your suitcase, you see a text with an attachment from Sheena. 

Girllllllllllll. I found Brasco and babyyyyyyyyyyy… 

You gasp. Time did a wonder on him in all the right ways. He packed on even more muscle, chiseling out the navy thermal dressing his upper body. Teeth still bright, Moonlight-bright. His Omarion-Pandemonium-era braids were gone, now donning a clean fade with perfect waves. His stance meant business, a lot of it risky. You bite your lower lip to mask the “damn!” urging a release from you, staring at his picture so intensely that you damn near walk into the stewardess checking your boarding pass. 

You couldn’t wait to get to your first-class seat. You needed a safe space to drown in your own splash waterfalls. You beg Sheena to send you his profile, looking to make some more of that mess and she obliges. Scrolling through his Facebook, you see nothing. You needed him to match your uncleanliness. Another text from Sheena breaks you out of your spell. 

Ain’t shit on here though. I can’t find an Instagram or anything. That’s where the dirt is at lol 

You put your social media skills to work. Ain’t an Instagram profile that you can’t find. Nebraska Williams brings up nothing. Such a unique name and nothing to show for it. 

Maybe Jarell can follow him, Shi. 

Jarell ain’t on this thing. He hates all this stuff. You want me to follow him? 

Girl, yes! I need more pictures! I’m trying to find his ‘gram and no diceeeeeee. Ughhhh. 

Damn the “no cell phone until after lift off” announcement. You then try “Brasco”, too many names -- rappers, really--  and a dog company to boot. “Brasco Williams” yields no results. You couldn’t wait what could be hours, days,  weeks, maybe never, for a response from Brasco to Sheena’s friend request. 

You pull up Google as a last ditch effort. The results bring up what only seems to be archives from your now-defunct city newspaper covering one of Nebraska’s record-setting games from 2005. You know to quit while you’re ahead until you see a Youtube video: “Nebraska Williams (RB) New Birth High School (MD). uploaded by Donyell Williams. You remember Donyell as this boy who played too damn much in Geometry class but right now, he’s Brasco’s cousin who's Instagram profile came up on the first search. Thank God his profile wasn’t private. You scroll back far enough to hit the jackpot. 

I found it! @donniebrascowill is his Instagram. 

Sheena was right about the dirt. His posts were bare but his stories carried enough. Enough shirtless, weightlifting, fresh-out-the-barbershop-got-to-show-you-the-fade dirt. You hit the follow button before the stewardess asked for your drink selection. 

End of Part I

[oro-e-diamanti]

This has been sitting in my drafts as a reminder to read it for WAY, way too long so I thought, what better time to get into it while I should be thinking about my bedtime and/or working on my own story, right??

Kisses the top of your nose 😭

Oh but I get her hesitation lol, tourist visits? Hell yes. Actual religious aspects? Oh dear

Ah, stubborn as they come, sounds familiar

"Oh, if you would have known that you just signed a contract with the devil, maybe you would have taken the way out. But there’s nothing like a sin." Oh my god I love this so much, this is amazing

"There’s nothing sacred to Thomas; you should have known." nevermind, there's another sentence that just does things to me

"What?" He asks as if it's completely regular to start teasing your girl on the way to mass

I mean, I wouldn't mind but I'm blasphemous as fuck

Foxy, I don't know how you do it, but I have to keep myself from quoting your whole work back to you just to go "!!!!" because it's so good

"Modesty before honesty." HAHAHA

Damn, that's a side of Thomas I'd like to, uh, intimately explore

"Through the window you see the church building, it already feels like you tainted it." LOVE IT

This story is turning me on way too much

"Two sweet for such a hellish tongue" that's it, I'm deceased, goodbye

jesus christ

I want to be a sinner too

damn

jesus christ the fingers in her mouth, that's the kind of nasty I'm here for

"All you want to do is get down on your knees, between his legs. In a place of worship." BIG FUCKING SIGH because I want to do that all the time, any place

Thomas you naughty naughty boy

I wouldn't even care what his plans are, do to me what you want you devilish thing

"You want to question it but you only moan." m-o-o-d

your metaphors are top notch in this one

if I'm lacking comments for a particular part it's because i've died

yeah I'd have obeyed that too

fuck me

and there's gonna be second part to this eventually??? I might actually pass away or pass out, whichever happens first, but I'll embrace it with open arms

Sacred Heart - Tainted Church

Pairing: Thomas x Fem!Reader Summary:What’s the difference between a devil and a god, a sinner and a believer; or is there none? - Thomas is trying to make sure that you go up in flames when you step into a church again, after years of putting it off. Word Count: 3930 Warnings: Blasphemy & religious imagery (A LOT, so listen: if you’re not into it, please do yourself and me the favour, don’t read it and forgot that you saw this), sex in public places and in a small space, smut Disclaimer: I’m not a Christian, but I did grew up religious. And if the question is if I would have used my religion for this in any way or form if applicable, the answer would be yes. Notes at the end for context. 💋

I hope I didn’t forget how to write :’). Golden Hour and more prompts will be next, I promise.

Please share your thoughts with this on me <3

ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST

.#####.

For we know that the law is spiritual: but I am carnal, sold under sin.

Romans 7:14 (KJV)

<><><><><>

“You can just say no, you know?” Thomas says.

So something in your expression must have told him that you’re maybe not entirely onboard even when you agreed to join.

“You don’t have to come with me,” he continues and kisses the tip of your nose, “I can just go there alone and can meet you for lunch or dinner later that day. Sounds good?”

It’s not that you don’t want to join at all, it’s something else that is holding you back. It’s a church.

Keep reading

[ri-ahhh]

can u just give me mushy gushy shit with grayson like ethan has a girl over so the two of you decide to go out for a burger date and a walk at night? idk something like that pls 👉🏻👈🏻

A/N: I couldn’t even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts but I was looking through trying to find something to finish bc I was in the mood to write but not from scratch and found this lol. It was about halfway done and I have no idea where I was going with it but this is what it turned into as of today. Idek if there’s even anyone around here anymore to read this but whatever haha here it is.

You don’t usually mind being single. Even when your best friend/roommate Stella started seeing her boyfriend Charlie seriously, it didn’t give you any longing for a relationship of your own.

But there are some nights where you feel down and you just can’t handle it. The scenes of casual intimacy as soon as you get home and see them together — the vase of flowers on the kitchen island he must have brought over; the playful bickering across the room.

The incessant, unrelenting sound of a marathon session going on through the shared wall of your and Stella’s bedrooms.

You groan and turn the volume up on your AirPods, going straight to your messages next.

Wyd?

{G} 👀

Don’t be weird.

Pretty sure Stella and Charlie are trying to put a hole in the wall w her headboard and I can’t take it anymore.

Your roommate chooses that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic “fuck!” If she weren’t your best friend, you might have given in to the urge to bang on the wall, but your phone lights up with Grayson’s reply anyway.

{G} E too.

{G} I mean like I can’t hear him but ik what’s going down in there

{G} I’d offer to pick u up but sounds like u need to get outta there lol. Meet me here?

You like the message and slip on some shoes, making sure to slam your bedroom door closed on your way out, as if it would make them pause even one thrust.

In the year that you’ve known him, Grayson Dolan has become one of your closest friends. The kind where you met as acquaintances, never talked much, but then you reconnected randomly and the conversation never stopped from there on. You talk about anything and everything, but recently you’ve bonded even more about being a perpetual third wheel. You knew he’d understand and not pass judgement on you in times like this, so it had been a no-brainer to text him as an escape from tonight.

He buzzes you into the gate when you get to his house, and he tells you over another text to go ahead and hop in the Porsche before he even gets outside. It makes you smile; night drives are your favorite, and while the Tesla is a vibe in its own right, there’s just something calming about someone (your attractive friend, no less) tangibly driving you around. It’s exactly what you need right now, no matter what destination he has in mind.

When he slides into the driver’s side not even a minute later, you’re almost overwhelmed by him. Looking far too good in your eyes for how casual he’s dressed in a well-fitting T-shirt and some grey sweats. Hair slightly damp from a recent shower.

He greets you with a grin and leans over the console to kiss your cheek, and you can smell the combination of his shampoo and a bit of cologne. You always appreciated that he doesn’t overdo the fragrance, and if possible it makes him even more intoxicating at times.

“Hey,” he says simply, sitting back in his seat and fastening the seatbelt.

“Hey.” You smile and watch him with a silent but fairly obvious appreciation as he reaches a hand to rest on the back of your seat, twisting the bit he needs to look out the back windshield. The Porsche has a backup camera, obviously, but he’s a cautious driver to a fault and insists he doesn’t fully trust them.

Grayson gets the car facing enough of the right direction to throw it in drive and exit down the long driveway. You shake your head and settle back, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and tucking your feet onto the seat beneath you.

“One day, we’ll be the ones making them leave the house,” he jokes, stopping for the gate to open.

You know it’s implied that he’s referring to the two of you with separate people, but you can’t help but consider the option that the two of you could make that happen together.

“I know for a fact you have a booty call list a mile long, Dolan,” you say with a raised brow. Despite the fleeting thought, keeping things lighthearted and platonic is much easier to deal with in reality. “You could have called one of them and done just that.”

He scoffs and pretends like you’ve just hurt him deeply, slapping a hand to his burly chest to clutch at his heart. “Excuse me, it is not a mile long.” He glances over at you with a held-back smirk. “A couple hundred yards, tops.”

You throw your head back with a loud cackle, looking out the window now as he turns onto the main road. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Damn, that’s a big word.” He likes to tease you about your extended vocabulary.

“Hopeless,” you elaborate, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Is that what that word means, or are you making fun of my high school dropout vocab?”

“Both.”

You let your head roll back against the headrest, turning to watch him, knees swayed to the side a bit. His form isn’t hidden in the dark at all, features lit up by the dash in front of him and the streetlights you’re passing by outside.

“Why didn’t you, then? Call one of them?”

Grayson shrugs. “Just didn’t really feel like spending time with people tonight.”

You’re silent for a moment and consider his answer. “Why did you agree to hang out, then? You didn’t have to.”

His eyes never leave the road, but you see the veins in his hand gripping the steering wheel bulge out for a moment as he squeezes it tightly.

“I guess I meant I didn’t want to spend time with people I don’t really care about.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it off with a sarcastic tone. “Aw, you care about me?”

“Of course I do,” he replies easily. “I’m not sure why, though. You’re so fuckin sassy sometimes.”

“You love it.”

The car rolls to a stop at a red light. Grayson’s hand slides from where it’s lightly gripping the gear shift, to yours, which is picking at a loose string on your leggings.

Your easy smile at the comfortable banter between you and Grayson falters some in surprise, but you let him turn your palm over and trace the lines of your hand softly. Both of your gazes are fixated on the way he tickles your skin when he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Your eyes shoot up, just in time to meet his. He looks at you with a weird mixture heat and vulnerability, and there’s a thick moment of silence, no longer than the single beat of your heart that you can hear thudding loud and clear in your ears, when suddenly the car behind you lays on the horn.

Both of you startle, and Grayson’s attention returns to the road ahead. He steps on the gas and takes his hand away, carding it through his hair roughly as you sink back into your seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh my God, dude, you can’t just do that to me,” you blurt out, your heart in your stomach and your brain even lower. A helpless giggle escapes you, and you tug on your own locks. “Shit...”

“What?” he asks defensively, but you hear the tiny bit of the grin he’s wearing in his voice.

You turn your head to deadpan him, eyes wide. “You can’t just... imply something like that and give me sex eyes and not think you did something to me! Are you crazy?”

He gives a one-shouldered shrug with the arm resting on top of the steering wheel again. “Maybe. You’re proving my ‘sassy’ point all over again.”

“Oh my — don’t fuck with my head, Gray.”

“Hey.” His voice is deeper, more serious as the car comes to another stop. You’re only just now realizing you’ve reached the burger joint, and that the late hour made finding parking a nonexistent problem. He puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt before doing the same to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fuck with your head, I promise. I just... didn’t want it to seem like I was coming on too strong too suddenly. I, uh, have a history of doing that.”

You stare at him, processing everything. “I know.”

He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I know you do.”

There’s more silence. That heavy kind that happened right after his little impromptu confession.

“You know,” you finally speak up, finding your voice after mulling over your words, “I kinda love that you’re a douche.”

He looks a little taken aback, until understanding dawns on him, and his eyes light up in a way that has you smiling instantly with him. “Really?”

You nod. “Call me crazy.”

Grayson shifts closer in his seat, his pink tongue darting out to lick those plump lips. You mirror him, and this time you take the initiative to reach out for his hand. It’s warm and strong, just like the rest of him.

Like earlier, you watch your hands lightly caressing each other as you speak. “And I love that you come on strong. And that you put your heart out there.” You interlace your fingers, immediately in love with the contrast of his huge ones between your slim ones. “Makes things way easier for me.”

He grins wide. “There’s that sass again.”

You bite your lip through your smirk and tug him close to you with your clasped hands, your free one reaching behind his neck to drag his lips to yours. “Mm. Better shut me up, then.”

[thatseventiesbitch]

@einsteinsugly said: You're welcome! I've been around so long, I've even read your deleted fics. I don't remember much, don't worry. Just a sequence where they didn't want their son to have the initials ELF.Oh, and out of sheer curiosity, are a couple of your projects outside of the T9S verse (I remember you mentioned one within it)? T9S is too OOC for me personally to write in a positive light, as my Zombie verse clearly shows, but another perspective would be interesting.Because although I do feel Eric and Donna would probably pull through having a kid so young (if they decided to keep the baby at all), there would be some major bumps along the way. And if those major bumps aren't smoothed out by the time Leia (Lucy in my Zombie verse, bc Leia's so OOC) is a tot, they're going to have to deal with a kid who has some emotional scarring. Nowhere near the caliber of Hyde, but to the caliber of Donna, most likely. Which is why Donna wouldn't go through with a pregnancy so young, imo, unless the cat's let out of the bag and she's pushed against a wall. She doesn't want to repeat history, if you will.Anywho, I released my main Two Worlds Apart universe (which is mainly E/D focused, but since they get so close to J/H, J/H are prominent too) out into the wild when T9S was announced, bc I can write (and most ppl within this fandom can too) a far more satisfying universe. And since I concocted it in 2020 and it involves an accidental pregnancy in the mid 80s (with their first daughter Kate), it makes more sense, to me. And my other E/D Little Women verse, also with an accidental teenaged pregnancy, takes place in the 1860s. With much less reliable birth control methods and other...circumstances, to say the least.Yeah...my ideas are all over the place (some things are finished and settled, others are not), and mainly stuffed into one main verse. Eric's an 8th grade history teacher on the South Side of Chicago and an amateur photographer/documentary filmmaker, and Donna's a journalist (and later co editor) for the Chicago Sun-Times. And they bash their heads together and work together a lot. And Jackie, with her talk show and all, does some great PR for whatever projects they concoct.

Oh my god, yeah I went through my FF.net profile a few weeks ago and cleared out a few old, old stories. Honestly, it’s just hard for me to re-read those stories I wrote in high school without cringing. But hey, for a kid they were damn good! And I could have had worse hobbies than writing stories all of those years. I didn’t feel I was doing anyone a disservice by taking them down though, lol.

Oh yes, I have a whole folder full of story ideas that are in various states of completion. Most of them have nothing to do with That 90′s Show. I did get back into the fandom a few months ago when I saw the news of the spinoff and my little Eric & Donna lovin’ heart was so happy to see that they ended up together with a kid, and that Topher and Laura will be guest starring. That set the creative juices flowing again, I guess. So I’m actively working on a long fic that incorporates the That 90′s Show universe (what we know of it, so far) but it’s still a fanfic and I’m taking my liberties like anyone else! I just cannot stomach the purported Jackie/Kelso storyline, for example. Jackie and Hyde are so much more fun to write, so that’s what I’m writing. Naming her Leia is also throwing me for a loop... struggling hard to come up with a way that Donna would ever in a million years agree to that lmao. I am glad the original showrunners are the ones producing That 90′s Show - I wouldn’t want it any other way - but shit like this reminds me how frustrating they can be with the details. They always were.

To be honest, I have always kind of headcannoned that Eric and Donna would have an unexpected/early pregnancy. Prior to That 90′s Show being announced, I also had several story drafts sitting around where they dealt with Donna being pregnant. I talked about that a bit in an essay I write about That 90′s Show’s premise. In short, I totally agree that there would be some major bumps along the road. That’s what makes it an interesting concept to explore in fanfic! I think Eric and Donna have the foundation to weather something like an unplanned pregnancy, but hey, lots of other interpretations exist as well. I imagine that a lot of folks are going to be inspired by That 90′s Show - even if they’re not watching or not fans of the direction it’s taking. If that results in more fanfic goodness for me to read, I’m going to count it as a win!

I’m adding your Two Worlds Apart story to my reading list! It sounds fascinating. I’m from Chicago and can totally imagine the characters ending up down here.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Umm maybe one with Cal (obvi lol) where he randomly posts you. Maybe you've been dating for 3 years and they only see blurs of your face or the back of your head when you go see him or go to events with him. And its a long ass caption about how you're that BITCH and he loves you so much. And then you see and are like "bro wtf" and you ask him about and he shrugs it off and says he wanted to world to see his world

So, I’m a whole dumbass and accidentally deleted the first draft of this. But I managed to save it, even though I have the memory of a goldfish. I hope you enjoy. 

Take a gander at my masterlist!

Reader Insert. No specific race, gender, or sexuality! 

__________________________________

Gratitude

Calum’s body is sprawled across yours. His head is on your chest. His arms are wrapped around you, meeting at your back, hugging you like a child clutches onto their favorite stuffed animal. But it’s you. And you are no stuffed animal. Your fingers lightly drag through the blonde but turning brunette strands. They’ve started to curl in around each other. You wonder if he’s ever going to ask you to cut his hair, if you guys will join the cull of people in desperate times. He has clippers and guards under the sink. It’s not like he hasn’t resorted to the buzz at home before. You’re not going to push it though. There’s enough to worry about as it stands. 

There’s promotion before the album’s release and now after too. There are interviews at all times of the day it seems. There was shooting at home for the ‘Wildflower’ music video. If it’s not something he brings up, you’re definitely not going too. There’s plenty already to worry about. Maybe even too much to worry about. But you’re glad that Calum’s found a moment to rest. It’s evaded you though, for the moment and for the last couple of days if you’re honest. Even with a pretty consistent sleep schedule, you still find your mind racing. Like there’s not plenty of time for that during the day. 

Reaching up, you grab your phone from the edge of the back of the couch, right on the ledge. You placed it there not worried about it falling, when Calum first collapsed into you. You figure there’s nothing wrong, for the moment, to expose yourself to some blue light and social media. It all feels like a fog though. Twitter is nothing but the same memes, the same ads, the sameness of everyone ghosting into a void where sometimes the void echoes back. And down and down you go, liking some tweets here and there, but to no avail to find any real distractions. Occasionally, you snort at a meme, but it’s just a quick chuckle. 

You turn to Instagram. You’re bound to have the same results, something so mind numbing it can’t even numb anymore. And as the app loads, you watch all the people with icons shuffling across the top of the screen. You tap on the first one and let it cycle all the way through, before repeatedly tapping through them. You pause at ones that look interesting, watching them all the way through. One hand drifts back down to Calum’s head, scratching ever so lightly at his scalp. He burrows deeper into you, squeezing you in his arms just a little. 

Swiping away from the stories, you scroll the posts and not even three posts down, you notice the photo of yourself. Then you see Calum’s account as the culprit. It’s of your silhouette mostly as you twirl under streetlights. You remember then the photo was snapped. Just eight months into your relationship and you had been given a promotion at work. Calum wanted to celebrate by grabbing a quick treat from your favorite bakery. It was late and you felt like being a little fancy, and stopped by a bar just to grab one drink. One celebratory drink. And as the two of you exited, rain started to fall. Rain in L.A. isn’t too common and you had to bask in the moment, just for a moment, since it was so light. So you started laughing as you spun around the sidewalk. You hadn’t even noticed Calum snapping the photo until you saw it as his homescreen two weeks later. 

There are several blue dots at the bottom of the picture. So you swipe left. This photo is of you, too, but your face is mostly hidden by Duke’s body, just a portion of your forehead and eye visible because of the angle. It had to be from a year or so into the relationship given the style and length of your hair. And you nearly laugh at yourself for thinking that a year was so early on, now that you’re three years into this. But god, it really was early on. Now you can’t picture your morning routine without Calum being grumpy and without Duke whining to be let out and Calum pouting that Duke’s steals all your attention. You always rectify the pouts with two kisses to his forehead and never less than those two kisses either. 

Taking a quick moment, you look around for the old man and spy him curled up at the end of your feet. And you have to grin. He’s never too far from Calum at all when Calum’s home. You turn your attention back to your phone and swipe again. The next photo is of half your face. A little blurred thanks to Calum’s shaky hands and questionable photography skills. But you can tell, thanks to the grass below and the wristband this was from the Coachella adventures. You swipe again. It’s your full face, hidden by some shadows as you laugh from the top of the ladder. From the ventures of painting the bedroom again, it was nothing drastic but still, took you and Calum two days to finish the painting. As you swipe again, there’s one last photo, of you three days, grinning hard into the camera while leaning against the kitchen counter. You were just waiting for the water to boil and listening to a podcast before starting dinner. You noticed Calum coming into the kitchen and when he mumbled for you to look up at him, you saw the phone and smiled as hard as you could. 

As time goes on, things get clearer. Being with you just makes sense. And I know when you see this, you’ll probably be a little mad. Duke, I’ll need to share that bed with you. I can only hope it’s big enough.  I’m not sure why it’s hard to say to you right now, face to face. You’re just on the couch and I’m just at the kitchen table. And I know, I’m a pretty private guy. But something about being with you just makes sense, so much damn sense. It’s just been us, when the road got narrow and when it was all too easy to walk, hell, maybe even run along, we still had each other. No relationship sails smoothly and no planes out there that’s ever flown doesn’t hit some turbulence. Every time though, we’ve come out stronger and together still. There’s no important date for this, the 3rd anniversary has come and gone, but there seems like no better time to say thank you. So, thankyou. Thankyou. Thankyou.  

You don’t realize there are tears until one slips down your cheek and splashes onto the phone screen. Your inhale is shaky and you’re trying to swallow down the sobs. They still come through, like coughs from your chest and you’re sure you’re trembling. Calum feels you shaking, squeezing again unsure if you’re moving out from underneath him. “Five more minutes,” he mumbles, readjusting the position of his head. 

He doesn’t miss the sniffle though and when he sits up, eyes admittedly still puffy with sleep, and sees you with one hand over your mouth and tears streaking your face, he panics. “Baby? What the hell happened?” He’s cupping your face, wiping at the tears and soon, he’s sitting completely up, and against the couch cushions. You pull your leg out from behind his body. Calum waste no time to tuck you up into his arms, chin resting on the top of your head. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

“I saw the post,” you manage to get out, now able to control the emotions racking through you. 

His grip slackens. You hear the rumble of his soft laugh. “So is the couch cushions my source of warmth tonight?”

You have no problem with Calum posting photos. You just hadn’t expected him to post something like that. Pushing up to your knees, you gently cup his cheek. He reciprocates the tender hold. “No, I was just shocked that’s all. Came out of left field.” His thumb clears away the stray tears and yours just gently brushes along the stumble that’s started to prick through his skin. 

“I just love you, that’s all. And we’ve been together for three years and I can see three more together, and three more after that. And three more after that. And three more after that. And three more after. And hell, twenty after that. Just wanted the world to see my world.”

“Calum Thomas, you’re so fucking cheesy, but goddamn do I love you.” He gives a quick smile before you capture his lips, hands cupping both cheeks. And soon you trail them up his nose, kissing between his brows, over each eye and then kissing twice on his forehead. 

-H

[macamonium]

god help

I'm writing this thing and it's gonna make me cry lol

this is (hopefully) gonna be part of a larger fic, but as I was jotting down the outline this just dripped out. its abt self-love thru good food and Bakugou learning to forgive himself the right way

maybe tw for eating disorder stuff, though that's not what the fic will be about

Bakugou emptied a full-sodium packet of beef bouillon into the pan. The smell drafted through the dorm’s empty kitchen, and his mind wandered with it.

He knew, regrettably, that he reflexively went for the full-sodium bouillon because of his mom. Mitsuki had the same impatience for low-fat and low-calorie “diet” foods that she did for backtalk and attitude. She scoffed at the TV whenever it lit up with commercials of dancing, ever-thinning crackers, or the new zero-calorie alternative for something that was never meant to be low-calorie. Sour cream, for chrissakes! It’s fucking dairy, it’s meant to be that way!

She lectured Bakugou about it when he was really little, on some Saturday in the middle of summer. He was inside for the afternoon nursing an injury from what he reported was a particularly slippery log in the forest. Really, it was payback from a sore-loser gang of fifth graders. So his ankle wasn’t really twisted, but his chin sure was bruised - that log had a mean right hook. No way in hell was he letting the neighborhood kids see his face like that, so he was there, in the kitchen, pretending to take extra care of his left foot while Mitsuki made them lunch.

Stirring the curry in his own pan, which was now simmering, Bakugou could picture it more clearly than he had in a long, long while. He had been sitting on the farthest barstool - yeah, it was that one because one of the legs was loose and he was rocking back and forth, back and forth, and when his head swung along with it his mom’s hands, stirring the pan, popped in and out of view from behind the milk carton. He smiled softly to himself now, taking stock of how he was standing. How similar it was. Was she making curry that day?

If Bakugou couldn’t remember exactly what she said, he could make a pretty good guess on how she’d phrase it. He just knew her that well. He could hear her now - it'd have gone something like this:

“You see, when they first started puttin’ the nutrition facts on the packages of food products, back in, like, the 1920s, the chemists had a field day. I mean, really, they ran that industry.”

Katsuki didn’t know what industry was, but he liked hearing his mama talk.

“And at that time, chemistry wasn’t what it is now. It wasn’t molecules and atomic structure and that kinda thing, it was grams of this and milliliters of that. Still, that was more than regular people knew, so it was left to the specialists.”

She held the spatula out for him to lick. He took it in two chubby hands.

“More spice, mama.”

“Whatever you say, baby. And wipe your chin.” He used the bottom of his shirt, but she didn’t say anything. His dad wasn’t around for that kind of thing.

“Don’t get me wrong, knowing what’s in your food is great.” She gestured carelessly with the lick-marked spatula before plunging it back into the curry. “Certainly better than whatever was going on before. They used to put cocaine in Coca-Cola, you know.”

“What’s cocaine, mama?”

“A drug, baby. Makes you go crazy for a while. Don’t go trying it, and don’t go repeating it - though I suppose that’s hard in earnest, it’s what the ‘Coca’ in Coca-Cola is named after.”

“It’s named after D-RUGS??” Katsuki sat forward in his seat, but the squeaky leg cursed a whine at him and he sat back.

“That’s right: Drugs,” Mitsuki said to her eight-year old, her eyes wide. “Though people don’t make that connection anymore so they didn’t ever rebrand. They used to drink Coca-Cola when people got sick. It cleared out your sinuses, sure, but it also made you shout really loud and go streaking through the park. Ha! Anyway, where was I?”

“The. Uh… oh, the nutriss- nuturish-”

“Ah, nutritional facts. Say it with me, baby: Nutrition. Noo-trish-un.”

“Nutrition,” they said together. Katsuki smiled. Bet dumb Deku doesn’t know that one.

“So, the legacy of old-fashioned chemistry is that the nutritional value of foods isn’t really evaluated beyond the physical makeup of the food.” These were big words but Katsuki got the gist, and Mitsuki knew that. “It doesn’t tell you what those things do for you and your body, beyond ‘fat is bad, protein is good,’ and even that’s just considered on a physical level in regards to your body. There is so much more to food mentally, and emotionally, that goddamn counts as nutrition.”

“God-damn.”

“Yeah, don’t say that,” she said half-heartedly. “And I don’t just mean ‘veg out whenever you need it solely because it makes you feel good.’ Don’t totally disregard physical nutrition. I mean that food making you feel good shouldn't be totally disregarded either. Spices, for instance.” Katsuki cheered from his seat. “Yeah, you like spice.

“Food should taste good. It drives me up the goddamn wall when I see those health bitches on the TV drain out the grease from their meat. Right down the sink. That’s what makes it taste good! If you don’t want grease, eat turkey! And the ‘nutritional’ benefits of draining the grease hardly outweigh the emotional satisfaction of a good-tasting meal. At that point, it’s just a practice in self-sabotage, in pointless, self-inflicted suffering. And for what, so you get kudos from Nestle, who happens to be rolling out their new line of trans-fat free crackers? Please.”

She ladled the curry onto a plated bed of rice with a sigh. The smell made Katsuki’s tummy gurgle. He licked his lips really slowly, the same way he saw Spongebob do on the TV that morning.

“Anyway, my point is - when something tastes good, that’s good nutrition. Being healthy is being happy, and if the food you’re eating makes you happy, that is healthy. I’ll eat my pickles whole from the jar, even if Dr. Oz gives me a lip about ‘it’s too much sodium,’ and do you know why? Because I love the crunch of a fresh pickle, and I know that as sure as I know that there’s two grams of carbs in it because the sticker on the side tells me so. I know I love it so I do it, and that’s a beautiful thing. That’s something I deserve.”

She slid the steaming plate, loaded with peas, potatoes, and carrots in curry, across the table to her son. He reached for the fork, but she snapped it away at the last second. Katsuki looked into his mom’s eyes. “Say it back to me, baby: ‘Food should taste good.’”

“Food should taste good, mama.”

“I deserve this good food.”

“I… I deserve this good food.”

“That’s my baby, now eat up.”

A tear squeezed through Bakugou’s eyes at the memory, and fell down his cheek into the pan. He didn’t even remember the last part until it all ran through his head.

God, he couldn’t help it, and there was no one around to prove anything to - he made the effort to muffle himself with shallow breaths, but he let the tears flow free and hot down their tracks. This time they reached his chin. He asked the ceiling, berating himself on how foolish he was to think it would answer: did he still even deserve it?

[wonnoy]

life long besties (?)

the last part for haters to lovers with kageyama ! you can read part 1 and 2 for it to make better sense.

but, part 3 is going to be more spicy so if this is what you're here for lol

[][][

warnings: very light spice. like a bb sprinkle.

1 | 2 | 3

You were fighting again, what a big surprise. Hinata had long since stopped trying to get you guys to like each other, making the ridiculous claim every time you guys fight 'just admit you love each other'.

As if.

Your feelings for him, obviously hatred, had only been growing for these past years.

"You're clearly going senile," he said in a snide voice reeling you back into reality with a glare, "zoning out of the blue."

You pushed back away from him, moving further away from on the sidewalk. You two started fighting again, but this time outside and the both of you alone in the middle of the night. Hinata had long since jogged ahead, no wanting to hear you two bicker with him being the middle. You understood, it had to have been tiring when it's all you ever hear.

"Sorry," you looked at him from the corner of your eye, "I don't associate myself with anyone who has virgin lips," you finished. You smiled widely seeing the nickname take its desired effect on him. His shoulder bunching up and his death eyes staring right back at you.

He snuffed at you, "how do you know if I have virgin lips,"

"Because you have too big of an ego to kiss anyone on your own unless they begged to be kissed first," you answered immediately. You could see him huff next to you, crossing his arms roughly, "and you're ugly."

"I know I'm not ugly," he responded.

You scoffed at him, "your mom tell you that?"

Kageyama, though flustered, managed to call you a dumbass under his breath. You looked in front of you again, the sidewalk looked to be infinite with the way the darkness hugged everything. You slid your face deeper into the scarf around your neck, it was colder out tonight.

"Are you cold?" you looked over at him, his hands were stuffed into his pockets and he wasn't looking at you.

"Yea," you nodded and look forward again. Your jacket was not doing much against the cold.

"Should've worn thicker clothing then dumbass," he snickered next to you.

You turned your face up at him, "you act like such a child, you're 27. You don't look like you're much better off," you could hear him curse you under his breath again.

"I'm a volleyball player, I've been conditioned for temperature like this, you're the dumbass here," he replied. You looked down at the ground.

"Whatever you say virgin lips," you muttered. He still believed that you kissed someone before him and you were not going to tell him otherwise. This is best leverage you've had on him ever since you met him. Kageyama had thin lips, but they never seemed to be chapped.

You could feel your heartbeat speed up a little, just looking at him peeved you apparently. You continued to stare at him, the distant thought you pushed away nearly 6 years coming back up. Kageyama being an attractive guy.

"Why are you staring at me like a dumbass," Kageyama was looking at you now, but your eyes weren't on his. They were still on his lips.

"I'm not a dumbass you asshole," you looked away in a huff.

"You were staring at my lips weren't you," he said cockily and you quickened your pace, "oi, slow down dumbass," and he started walking fast too.

God, you started to jog away from him.

"You can't run from me, I'm a professional player," he said from behind but you didn't care and started to sprint away.

You were just caught staring at his lips. You hated him so much, yet why did you continue to hang out with him if you really disliked him as much as you did. You were running out of breath and looked behind you. Kageyama was only lightly jogging after you instead of full on sprinting like you were.

Hinata should have still been around here, you were bound to run into him at one point because he jogged up ahead not too long ago. You all three were heading home together, he wouldn't just leave you two.

As soon as you thought that, Hinata's orange head came into view.

"Hinata!" you cried out and he turned around to see you sprinting down the sidewalk directly into him.

"What is it, did you two stop love-fighting each other yet?" Hinata asked. You were on your knees, struggling to get some air into your system when you gave him an incredulous look.

"I'm running from Kageyama," you tried to say but it came out more like a wheeze. Your lungs burned while you stood up straight again, being wary for whenever Kageyama would come into view again.

Hinata sighed, "you both are childish. Just hash it out like you always do-" he was cut off when a male voice called out your name. You both turned in the direction from where it came from and it was Kageyama now sprinting in your direction.

"y/n!" he yelled out again and you turned, booking it in the other direction. You were already tired and running away from Kageyama was useless, so why were you doing it?

It wasn't long before Kageyama caught up to you, barely out of breath when he finally reached you. You however had to bend over again with your hands on your knees heaving again.

"Why are you such a dumbass, you kept running. Now look at you, bent over and breathless," if your ears weren't already red, they sure were now.

"Shutup, I don't want to hear you," you got off your knees and stood up straight against him again. He took this as a challenge and got up in your face too.

"Too bad then,"

You glared at him, puffs of air visible as you still struggled to get your bearings together, "I don't want to see you either,"

"Then look away," he responded and stepped closer to you. He was right, you could just look away and if you hated him so much you could have always just avoided him for years. But you didn't. You kept seeking out his company to bother him and say that you hated him.

Shit, maybe you didn't hate him. Your stomached clenched along with your heart when you thought of that. Had you been lying to yourself for the past decade just because he called you a dumbass? Hinata had long since cleared that incident up, but that didn't stop you from 'hating' him.

It felt weird but eerily calming to be glaring at the man who you believed you hated for the past decade. Him glowering right back at you as well.

"Listen, virgin lips-" he interrupted you with a snort, "- you don't stop talking and I'll shut you up,"

"That's not how-"

"Virgin lips," you took a step closer.

"No-"

"Virgin Lips," crossed your arms, cutting him off again. He was more than visibly irritated. His fingers were clenching by his side as he kept getting more pissed at you. You could care less.

"Dumba-"

"Virgin lips," you cut him off once more. By now he was in your face, grumbling all to heaven and back.

"-ass-"

"Virg-" you were cut off this time by Kageyama roughly grabbing you by the shoulders and slamming his lips into yours.

He was warm. Maybe he wasn't lying when he said he was conditioned. His lips were thin, but at least they weren't chapped like you speculated for them to be. He was firm against you, barely even moving his lips against yours.

You really were lying to yourself when you said you hated him. You weren't feeling hatred right now, but content. It felt weird to have your heart swell around in your chest, you used to associate it with hatred.

When he pulled away, there was a daze in his eye and a blush on his face that you knew didn't come from the cold.

"I no longer have virgin lips," he said, licking them as if for good measure.

"Me too," you said. When you did, whatever daze he was in was gone for good when he eyed you down. They were wide before they narrowed down into impossible slits.

"So you were lying huh? You damn dumbass," you stuck your tongue at him and he licked his lips again.

"You're the dumbass here for believing it dumbass," you turned away from him and started to walk again, "this doesn't change the fact that I still hate you,"

"You have a funny way of showing hate dumbass and I like it," he snickered behind you. Then came the infamous bickering you two shared constantly, but now you two knew neither of you actually ever meant it.

(in the distance hinata is standing with a shit eating grin on his face. he just won the betting pool between yamaguchi and tsukishima. he totally called it and everything)

[][]

i think i might have to edit this later but it was sitting in my drafts

[neo-shitty]

toffee!

ah yeah, i think quarentine has given people some opportunity to actually just sit with the person they are, rather than be rushing around for the person they want to become. its good you got smth good out of isolation! ah thats great! hope you had fun and ur partner in crime speeds back home so you can get out more hehe.

ah yeah ty, good suggestions.

hmm good point, i was sort of putting it separate to the whole not-sexualising thing, but yeah. mmm yeah i totally agree, some of the enhypen fics/imagines *shudder* and even reading innie stuff is just a bit *icky* cos everyone still thinks of him as our agi ppang. yeah def would be good but sadly this just seems to be the world we live in. :(

ah yes the holy masterlist (not sarc) i have actually read in the rain and gladius maximus before, but ill go look for in class! oooh thats good! character development lol. hmmmm yes champagne problems was the angst to end all angst, that shit hurt. it was actually one of the first of your fics i read and i recall almost crying over the whole thing, it was so heartbreaking, i can see how it almost made you want to drop angst. good that youve allowed yourself some lee-way tho :)

hehe thats so cool. okay here we go, ill try not to be mortally offended (/hj)

cheese - yes same, i liked it but that was all there was, it wasnt a super standout track. it was rlly underwhelming for me but some of the hook is super catchy so there is Redemption (tm) in store for cheese maybe

thunderous - mmm, yeah at first i totally agreed, i think they suffer from too much good music syndrome, that all their other tracks are such fucking bops its hard to stay at that level of perfection. the choreo was beautiful tho and tbh, the track has grown on me since ive been watching all the vids abt it. its my brothers favourite track

domino - YES GODAMMIT IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE TITLE TRACK. the raps, the vocals, the vibes, the fucking domino sound in the back? i would have streamed that shit on repeat. but tbh, as good as it is, it doesnt have that sort of grandness/oomph that skz seems to like in their title tracks so i can see why they chose thunderous (tho domino would have been so good) *sigh*

ssick - yeah same, not my fave track by a long mile, the crowd cheering was a ?strange? choice and the chorus was a bit bare/empty, plus like i mentioned earlier, it was kinda funny to me for some reason but ill still play it if im playing thru the whole album

the view - ahh one of those not like other girls (/j) i honestly think its just a good party song, just a bop to play in the background when nobodys rlly paying much attention. its pretty generic pop music but catchy

sorry, i love you - hehe yeah i thought it was going to be sadder as well, but i rlly loved the fact that they all just got to sing, which almost never happens, i dont think ive heard felix sing for a long time, so i enjoyed it. wasnt rlly a standout track but i just casually like it. looking forward to the fic haha

silent cry - this song i swear, some bits are rlly good and then others are just? why?? it does sound like a dance song tho idk. definitely not one of my faves either

secret secret - YES its so good! its such a chill song and i love their vocals in it. the combination of lo-fi/fake strings backup stuff and their heavenly vocals just makes it *chefs kiss* im listening to it rn and just... its so beautiful. it gives me pumped up another day vibes ya know? like my pace is edgy get cool, this one is energetic another day i feel like. overall i love it

STAR LOST - ah thats so cool! i didnt know that! on first listen this song had a similar vibe to secret secret but then the beat came in and ahh its such a good song. i can totally imagine them putting this song to a concert footage vid, this song is so sweet.

red lights - LMAO YES ITS SO AWKWARD WHY DOES IT GO ON FOR SO LONG ah thats good! yeah good point, its quite intense hehe. but that is my fave trope and this is lowkey my favourite track on the album so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just the combination of hyunjins and chans voices, the backing music, the lyrics ahh red lights my beloved

surfin’ - yes lmao its always a shock, i feel like they should have put gone away in between them, but its such a fun cute song, i cant get rlly mad. yeah, as an aussie i think im contractually obligated to like beaches lol. sand im not such a fan of, but my familys rlly into fishing and my brother loves bodyboarding so we stay at a beach house at least twice a year and we live like 5 mins from 3 different beaches (hehe all aussie cities are on the coast lol) so thats cool. do you like beaches?

gone away - ah gone away my beloved, i love this song sm, its just so pure and showcases their vocals and lyrics so well. yes the pitch change is very out of the blue, i feel liek they went directly from seungmins soft vocals to hans powerful ones which was an interesting choice, but hey, im not complaining

wolfgang - YES IKR ah im so happy he got to be included in that era and song. yeah its such a full on song i cant rlly listen to it if im in a quiet mood but its very motivating :)

hehe mood, i hope they do! ahhh no rest, but at least you wont have to pull a blink and wait a year for any word from the group lol. im not rlly into nct but im excited for them! ah hopefully youll be able to sneak some rest into that chaotic schedule, with enhypen (idk if u stan but yeah) squeezed into it haha

<3 w.a. 🐺

i wheezed at partner in crime, it reminded me of smth. i have a lee know fic in the drafts that i wrote 'in honor' of him (and his departure-ish). i'll tag you when i finish it, if you want. it's a rather hilarious one.

oh my god. based on my experience on the collabs i've joined before, writing explicit shit for '01 & '02 is not accepted (nct's maknaes) but with enha's hyung line '01 & '02 somehow it's okay? i do a double take every time i see fics like those i mean, technically, it's legal but still what the fuck. maybe it's just not for me at the moment. not at us venting our frustration about this. it's just something that's so accepted here that i am (in all honesty) slightly uncomfortable about. but oh well. that's kpop writerblr for you.

man i could've linked all the fics in the ask instead so you wouldn't have to go looking for them! i think i saw you like in class the other day (the fic i renamed into sharp-tongued, god it took me a while to remember the new title). describing champagne problems as an angst to end all angst is one way to put what i was feeling back in december. it just hurt to write and admit?? if that ever happened to me i would prolly cry :d

okay back to the album talk! i love how you answered with more thoughts. i love exchanges like these! i am a victim of the cheese hook and it's now one of my favorite tracks in the album. PLS, TOO MUCH GOOD MUSIC SYNDROME. that's on our self-producing kings 😌💅 also, your brother has taste! as i am typing this, domino's currently playing in my head and i realized that too, that it doesn't have that 'vibe' of a skz title track. honestly, this could be a title track of another group. ssick is starting to grown on me because i found the beats cool kdjsk not the not like other girls 😭 the view is the generic pop that i don't like but i get why a lot of people enjoy it. sorry i love you scratches a certain itch that i find myself singing the first few lines every time i remember it. i too would want to hear felix sing more!

> a mini junction on the album talk bc i got side tracked. on that topic, i want skz to switch positions at some point like i know those allrounders are capable of doing so. specifically, i want to hear seungmin rap!!!! (yk in the recent weekly idol he talked faster than changbin in a challenge and changbin is like the fastest rapper in kpop that's active atm if im not mistaken. my dandy boy has some potential and i want it UNLEASHED.)

back to album talk. silent cry is basically sad music to twerk to. secret secret is definitely one of my favorite tracks :( i loved how you compared the tracks HAJSAH i burst out laughing bc yk what, you're right! i want to make a star lost edit of skz but i simply do not have the time i want to cry. i love the song so much. ok, my dreaded track, red lights. idt i have played the track since we last talked. my friend sent me the lyrics tho and i'm itching to write a twisted au out of it. idk if you're comfortable with yandere but somewhere along those themes. the obsessive type of love that's sweet at first but turns rotten. IMAGINE IF THEY PUT GONE AWAY BETWEEN ASHJA it's like going from 50 shades to the notebook.

i was about to ask if you lived near the coast and you literally mentions it here god im so stupid. yes i LOOOOOOOOOVE beaches so much. living in an archipelago is fun :( i live in a part of the country that's more island than city so every time i want some vitamin sea it's accessible. i heard the waves in australia are great :( anYWHOOO gone away :(( every time it plays im compelled to skip it because it makes me sAD AND NOWADAYS I DONT HAVE THE TIME TO BE SAD. contrary to you, i dislike my quiet moods because i tend to overthink a lot.

i have this little analogy about how there are stays that enjoy songs the generic pop + mellow songs and then there are other stays that enjoy the noisy tracks. in my mind, it's like a perfect balance that makes me feel like all the tracks are loved in the end. just by different people.

PULL A BLINK. bro i fucking hate yg entertainment. they have the biggest kpop girl group LOCKED in their basement when they could be (and i mean this in the most business-like way not morally) milking money of the quad. they're yg's biggest hope at not being bankrupt atm so it's a damn fucking mystery to me as to how they aren't doing anything. (jk i just realized lisa solo album soon, but i still need a ot4 cb hELLO)

i stopped looking forward to the teasers. rest > kpop boys. i don't want to sound like a cult member but have you tried checking out nct? are they just not your thing? (i get it tho, that's one hard group to get into). and yes i do stan enhypen!

wow i love how long these asks are! they're like online penpals. but i also want to ask about you! how have you been lately? are you feeling okay both mentally and physically? how's the weather there? do you have anything that you want to talk about? maybe an interesting book you read? feel free to bring up anything you want to share! i'm getting conscious about talking about myself HAJHSJ

and yet another long answer B) i am sooo sorry T___T should these ask exchanges feel draining to you, feel free to stop sending them in AAAA

[tamamatango]

Let’s talk about Kururu, again

Apparently the fandom is growing all of a sudden so I feel like talking about Kururu again cuz that’s all I know how to do and it’s been a while

First off disclaimer that fandom is fandom and anybody can interpret any character any way they want and if you like to portray a character a certain way for whatever reason go for it, more power to you (unless you put them in pedo/incest relationships that are displayed as good in which case fuck you). But in my personal Kirbpinion(TM) the Funimation dub was a fucking mistake because so many fan content creators write a way different Kururu than what he is in canon cuz the dub never got to his best episodes and also upped the sadism to ridiculous levels. Listen I know it’s funny to joke that he’s the kind of guy that has 3 medieval torture chambers but hear me out. Kururu is by no means a perfect person, he’s genuinely pretty rude/blunt (though sometimes his straightforwardness is justified :P), has an ego, sometimes acts pretty gross around others and likes extreme and elaborate pranks way way way too much BUT.

Assuming you’ve watched far enough into the series (like 100+ eps) I do not really understand the interpretation that he doesn’t care about anyone and that friendship and love are things he is totally incapable of. He says that yes but if you pay enough attention to his dialogue it becomes pretty apparent that he displays this attitude for multiple reasons. One is that he does genuinely have a hard time expressing the emotions he feels and often has awkward/guarded ways of doing so. But also he says many times over the course of the series that he has a “reputation” to keep up and wants people to call him a jerk; he wants to look cool and rebellious all the time and he thinks a nasty apathetic attitude is what earns him that status (not claiming that’s a healthy mindset, mind you). He wants to have full control over the way people see him and he gets super frustrated and humiliated when he can’t. This is probably why he gets so upset when people talk about how unpopular he is, because he’s spent so much time honing his image to a T and is like why the fuck isn’t this working?! In other words even though sometimes he is just an actual pain in the neck a lot of his asshole antics are part of a carefully manufactured persona, and he will do anything down to labeling his own memories to prevent other people from seeing through his facade and discovering the parts of him that are vulnerable.

And God forbid anyone does figure out that he does care quite a bit for the people around him, or at least if he didn’t at first he does now. Early on in the series he was commonly referred to as “depressing” and while the meta reason is probably just the anime writers just didn’t know how to adapt the character yet (he started out a little differently in the manga), in canon I believe he was just even more inclined to push everybody away from him, and as he began to get used to working in a group he gradually opened up. He commentates on how “soft” he’s gotten since he came to Earth a couple times, and the fact that he’s surprisingly one of the most loyal to Keroro out of the whole team (in many episodes where everyone abandons Keroro for being dumb he leaves last) and goes out of his way to help when he thinks it’s warranted (he asks for money when things aren’t dire yeah but hey labor deserves compensation :V) shows that he is dedicated to his team. There’s even episodes where he doles out some kind of moral lesson to the squad in his own Kururu-y way, especially to Keroro and Tamama. Even the Hinatas he’ll pitch in to protect when he has to, and we all know he’ll pretty much drop everything if Saburo needs him.

Speaking of which. I think the unspoken reason why he’s best friends with Saburo (besides the surface-level stuff like they’re smart and nerdy and seen as enigmas by everybody else) is because Saburo is the only other person in the cast who understands Kururu’s particular struggle of putting on airs as a means of self-defense all the time. He basically has a carefully managed celebrity life (that he has to constantly work to hide in anime canon), a somewhat formal/reserved public life, and the more quirky enthusiastic side of himself he only shows when alone and to the few people he’s close to and god damn that just sounds like the most exhausting juggling act ever. He has an outlet to free himself through his art but he still has to live with nobody quite knowing what he goes through on a daily basis, which is probably why we see him off on his own for most of the series (until he gets to warm up to everybody better...wonder who that sounds like) and occasionally have his bouts of frustration and insecurity like in 229 where he says “fuck it I’m gonna fight the apocalypse alone because I need something to do,” 354(? I think that’s the number) where he talks about just dropping everything and starting over, and I think one of the Christmas eps where Giroro has to like beg him to go to the Hinatas’ party cuz he says he’s “busy” even though he’s just sitting around pretty much (UPDATE: it’s 294 the implication is probably that he has his show or something but cmon that’s only like an hour lol). I am going off on a tangent now but anyway the point is he and Kururu are the most complicated communicators of the cast and they share feelings only they understand which is why they can more or less read each other’s minds and know exactly what to do when the other is in trouble.

Back to Kururu. Keroro, from what I can tell, is the closest to him out of the Platoon; Keroro gets freaked out by Kururu’s pranks sometimes yeah but they have a lot of common interests as the fun-lovers of the group and Kururu’s also kinda been interested in Keroro enough time follow him around for almost his entire life up to this point so there’s that. He also gets along with the other people he‘s around; we know he and Aki get along from the beginning because of how dynamic their personalities are but later on he gets close to Fuyuki to the point where they just hang out for the heck of it sometimes, and even though Natsumi is very justified in generally disliking him (many of Kururu’s more Eugh moments tend to involve her) even she seems to rely on him often, and in the cursed puppy episode she knows all his favorite foods by heart so she must care in some fashion lol. Dororo and he aren’t evidently super close but I think they get each other on some level as the (in-universe) least popular of the platoon and Dororo at least respects his abilities, and has clearly come to figure out his subtleties based on 229. Giroro and Mois...things get complicated. Just putting on record that I’m not a fan of either ship between Kururu and them. I’ve said this before but I think Giroro and Kururu are in a turbulent sibling-adjacent relationship in that they have completely opposing attitudes but they have a begrudging sense of respect for each other and, ultimately, they’re teammates, so they’ll defend each other when someone they don’t know tries to mess with them. I really don’t think the flirty stuff on Kururu’s end goes beyond teasing and I got kinda sick of that running gag if I’m being honest. (You can probably tell which frog I ship Kururu with by now :P) Mois went from something of a rival to Kururu to his lab partner, which is probably why he goes easier on her than he used to and even strikes up something of a friendship because the only other person he knows that might be capable of handling his technology is an Earthling who’s still against the invasion despite his lax attitude so. She helps :V

Now the question is why Kururu acts like he does if his relationships really aren’t all that bad and I think there’s two components to this. I’ve made it clear by now I think he’s autistic but your mileage may vary there. I think personally his childhood did something to the way he processes things as well. In Secret of the Kero Ball, he’s got a bandage on his head which may imply he got hurt somewhere and then he almost drowned which canonically definitely did something to him lol, was mostly seen alone so who knows if he has a family he still talks to, and then he got drafted into the army and placed into a high-ranking position of great responsibility at a very young age; it’s kind of a no-brainer why he rebeled and got demoted eventually. I’ve got plenty of headcanons about what his early days in the Military did to him but that’s for another day because good God this post went on too long.

In short: Kururu is possibly the most complicated character in the show and the F in Flanderization stands for “Funimation.” That’s it I’m never writing another essay about pee-color frog again I will make real content again at some point I promise

[exhaustedfander]

moxiety with fake dating? mayhaps with some gay panicking because ahhh cute stranger hold hngg hand??

I was having such stupid technical difficulties ith Word, but here it is, sorry it’s been like three weeks, lol. I’d love to hear what you think! 

a03 link

word count: 3,008

Fake it Till You Make it 

Virgil’s always careful whilst staking out a seat in the coffee shop he frequents. He makes sure not to sit in an area that’s too crowded, as to bypass unnecessary human-contact, while simultaneously avoiding the table too close to the door that lets a draft in. He’s been coming here a long time now, as it’s the closest place to his College, as well as the fact that the coffee is reasonably priced, and the atmosphere is pretty damn cozy. Also… there’s a barista that happens to be the cutest man Virgil’s ever laid his eyes on, but that’s beside the point! 

By now, all of the staff know his order – a cinnamon Cappuccino with enough whipped cream to drown in – like the back of their hands, so he has to worry about social interaction a lot less than usual. The adorable barista in question, Patton, has only ever taken his order, sweet as can be while doing so, but Virgil’s never really talked to the guy. Not that he plans on it! That is waaay too nerve-racking to so much as think about, thank you very much. Sure, he can get lost in those ocean-blue eyes and often fantasizes about running his hand through those strawberry-blonde curls but talking to him is strictly out of the question. He likes this coffee spot and would really hate to have to find a new shop all because he’s made a fool of himself. 

So, it’s not hard to imagine Virgil’s utter shock when he finds that very same barista standing beside him, a dazzling smile on his face.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, in reference to the chair beside him, and Virgil’s fairly sure he forgets how to breathe for a moment. 

“Uh – no,” he manages to stutter, “It’s all yours, man.” The barista grins, sitting beside him. 

“Thanks… Virgil, right?” Virgil blinks surprised he’d remember something as inconsequence as his name. 

“Yeah,” Virgil says, “My, uh, friends call me Virge. You can, too, if you wanted to.” Virgil despises the way his voice is trembling; why is he so fucking nervous? It’s just basic, human, social interaction (with the most beautiful man to grace this Earth, but basic, human social interaction nonetheless)

“Sure, thing, Virge. I’m Patton,” he says, as though Virgil hadn’t memorized the name on his nametag the moment, he saw him. “I like your pin, by the way.” 

Virgil glances down at the Bisexual pin on his backpack, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. It’s not like he’s missed the rainbow shirt he’s seen peeking out from behind Patton’s apron sometimes – an apron he doesn’t currently have on, meaning he’s off the clock, also meaning instead of going home, he’s sitting here, talking to him. So, yeah, Patton’s probably gay, and he’s talking to him, but that doesn’t actually mean anything. It doesn’t stop Virgil from panicking quite a bit, though. 

“Thanks,” Virgil says, trying his absolute hardest to keep his cool. He’s wanted to talk to Patton for so long, but he hadn’t imagined it would ever actually happen. 

“You come here a lot, huh?” Patton asks. Virgil rubs at the back of his neck, struggling to maintain eye-contact. 

“Uh- yeah. This is a cool place, and it’s not too far from my school.” Virgil fails to mention the fact that Patton’s a big reason he comes in nearly daily, thinking such a detail might come off as super creepy.

As awkward as Virgil is, a conversation is struck up. He learns that Patton is a student at his college, too (How the fuck did he manage to miss a face like that??) and that he’s studying to be a Veterinarian, which Virgil finds a little funny, considering he’s terribly allergic to cats. Patton’s a big fan of dad-jokes and puns, and while he can try and groan, it just manages to make Patton all the more adorable. He also discovers that yes, Patton is gay and that he first came about a year ago. 

“Yeah, my parents weren’t too thrilled,” Patton says in a voice that’s desperately trying to stay chipper, but the sorrow creeps in all the same, “They still aren’t.” 

“Mine either,” Virgil says before he really knows what he’s saying, “I haven’t, uh, talked to them in a long time. I might never again, honestly.” A look of sympathy crosses Patton’s face, though it’s clear that he relates, maybe more than he wants to admit to himself. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Virge.” 

Virgil shrugs. It’s nothing new. He came out to his parents at seventeen, a choice that was quite the feat considering the level of anxiety he suffers from, and it hadn’t gone well at all. His folks hadn’t kicked him out, but they’d insisted that he was never to take a boy home. At first, Virgil had tried to get on their good side, they were his parents, after all. But it didn’t take long for him to realize what a fruitless venture that was. They weren’t going to change, regardless of how much he wanted them to. 

Once he got to college, he had an opportunity to meet a few really great people, despite his social-anxiety, individuals who had shown him how important it is to have positive relationships in life. At this point, it could undo a few years of positive change to let his parents back into his life, and Virgil wasn’t about to go and do a thing like that.

“It’s alright,” he says, “They’re assholes, anyway. I got some pretty cool relatives though, and some really good friends, so that helps.” Patton frowns, and suddenly Virgil decides he despises the sad expression on him, wondering what the hell he could do to make it go away.

“My parents are assholes too,” Patton murmurs, as though saying such a word is incomprehensively bad, and as if Virgil hadn’t said it too about three seconds ago. “They really are. I’ve been trying. Trying so hard to be patient with them and allow them time to adjust but… it just isn’t happening. They’re still talking about when I end up with “some lucky lady.” I don’t know…” Patton pauses, his eyes widening, “Oh my goodness, I’m sorry.” Virgil tilts his head. 

“What for?”

“For dumping all that on you. I mean, we hardly know each other. It was rude of me.” 

“Nah, man, you’re good. I was just talking about my parents, there’s no reason to apologize. And I should know, I’m kind of the king of apologizing for shit I didn’t do.” Patton cracks a small smile at that, and Virgil swells with a pit too much pride. “My point is, you didn’t overshare, or anything. We’re just having a conversation, you’re good, I promise.” Patton looks relieved. 

“Thanks, Virgil. You’re really nice.” Virgil’s heart can’t help but soar a little bit at that. Sometimes, he’s convinced he’s a massive asshole, despite his friends insisting that it isn’t. but it’s really nice to know that Patton thinks he’s nice.

“No prob, Pat. You’re nice too.”

“Well then, I’m glad we were able to break the nice,” Patton says, earning a half-hearted groan. “I’ve kinda wanted to talk to you for a while, actually.” Virgil’s heart skips a beat. 

“R-really? Why?”

“Because,” Patton says with a smile, “You always seemed so interesting. Mentioning your Pin was, uh, kind of just an excuse to talk to you,” Patton admits and, holy shit, is he flirting?! Virgil can’t tell, but sirens are going off in his head regardless. 

“I – uh,” Virgil bites his tongue, trying to come up with a dignified response of some kind, but failing to do so. “Thanks?” Despite Virgil’s criminal lack of tact, Patton just smiles, a look that quickly disappears when he gets a notification and checks his phone.

“What’s up?” Virgil asks, before realizing it’s hardly his business. He’s known Patton for what? An hour or so now – oh my god, Patton’s been talking to him for over an hour – and that doesn’t give Virgil the authority to inquire upon the barista’s personal life beyond what he’s already been told. Patton shakes his head.

“My cousin Dalilah getting married next week,” Patton explains, despite Virgil’s hesitation, “She’s one of the only family members who I’m really close to; she’s such a sweetheart.”

“Then what’s wrong?” 

“My mom and dad are going to be at the wedding,” Patton sighs, “And I don’t have a date. If I show up without some guy on my arm, I know they’re just gonna assume that the crisis is over, and they can set me up with the next available girl. They already think me being gay is a phase, this is all the reason they need to think the phase is over.” A sad look flickers in Patton’s eyes and instantly, all logic or uncertainty that Virgil’s clinging to goes out the window.

“What if I was your date?” Patton’s eyes go as wide as saucers and, oh shit, he really just said that aloud.

“W-what?”

“L-like a fake date,” Virgil backpedals, his heart rate spiking in a matter of seconds, “So t-that your parents aren’t dicks to you. Or at least, are less of dicks.” 

For a moment, Virgil almost dares to think that the explanation made Patton look kinda… disappointed? Not that it would make much sense, it’s not like he’d actually want Virgil to be his date. 

“Virgil you… you can’t be serious.”

“Well, why not?” Virgil asks, knowing he’s most probably going to regret this later, “You’re a cool guy who’s in a shitty situation. Your parents are going to be relentless to you, and I don’t like the idea of that, so… why don’t I make things a little easier for you?” Virgil says, impressed he gets through it without feeling as anxious as he had a few moments ago. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Patton mumbles guiltily, his eyes cast on the table, “I wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your weekend just for me.” 

“Pat, I was just gonna aimlessly scroll through Tumblr till two in the morning and watch shitty TV. And– erm– being your fake date sounds a lot more interesting to me.” (Not to mention nerve-racking!) Patton meets Virgil’s gaze once more, relief etched into his features.

“You’d really be willing to do this?” Patton asks, “You don’t need to, you know.”

“I want to,” Virgil assures. “So, what do you say?” Patton thinks for a moment before that beautiful smile spreads across his face anew.

“That sounds perfect! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Patton says, standing up from his chair and throwing his arms around the emo, “You’re a lifesaver, Virgil!” Virgil stiffens in the awkward embrace, before accepting it to the best of his ability, trying not to freak out because Patton fucking Hart is hugging him! 

“Sure thing, Pat.” 

After that, arrangements are made. As it turns out, Patton isn’t the biggest fan of lying, hates it, honestly, which makes things a little trickier. But a compromise is come to that they met each other in the Coffee shop, which was true and had been on a few dates prior to the wedding. While that wasn’t technically true (God does Virgil wish it was) they do spend several days throughout the week hanging out and getting to know one another. And within those few days, Virgil’s infatuation with Patton inflames to a full-on crush which is just great.

Getting better acquainted with him, Virgil finds himself quickly getting used to Patton’s bubbly personality. He’s eager to pet every dog he comes into contact with, he enjoys baking quite a bit, though he’s not great at it, he’s adorably awkward in the best ways and he’s one of the kindest, most genuine people Virgil’s ever met. 

Usually, Virgil’s so well-guarded, but with Patton, he’s opening up quicker and more willingly than he has in such a long time. Patton listens with such compassion, and while Virgil’s really happy to have the other friends that he does, he’s never met someone as sweet as Patton is. It’s almost a little overwhelming at times, how caring he is. 

Before they know it, the day is upon them. Virgil gets a rental suite while trying not to swoon at Patton in his sky-blue tux, because really, how is it legal for him to look that cute?

Patton grabs his hand the moment they walk into the venue, sending Virgil a careful glance and squeezing his hand just slightly.

“This okay?” He whispers, ever the compassionate one, and Virgil nods.

“Yeah, ‘s okay.” Virgil can’t recall the last time someone held his hand, and he certainly can’t remember the number of times he’s imagined Patton holding his hand, prior to them even being friends. 

They take their seats, and the ceremony proceeds as usual. It’s beautiful, not that Virgil is paying too much attention, distracted by Patton’s nervous glances toward an older couple that must be his folks.

“Hey, are you alright?” Virgil asks quietly. Patton forces a smile, his eyes trained on his cousin and her fiancé.

“Yeah, I’m – I’m fine,” – he doesn’t sound fine –, “It’s just…” Patton trails off, his gaze flickering back to his parents for a moment. Virgil places his hand over Patton’s, who’s trembling is noticeable immediately. Carefully, Virgil runs his thumb over Patton’s knuckles in an even, circular motion. Luckily, it seems to calm Patton down to a degree, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of Dalilah for the rest of the ceremony. 

However, almost immediately upon the afterparty starting, they’re cornered by Mr. and Mrs. Hart.

“Patton, you didn’t come and say hello,” his mother scolds. 

“Well, there were a lot of people,” Patton says nervously, “I figured we’d –.”

“Who’s this?” Patton’s father interrupts, gesturing to Virgil standing beside him.

“Virgil Storme,” Virgil says as calmly as he’s able, extending a hand for the father to shake. Mr. Hart’s hand remains rigid at his side. “I’m Patton’s boyfriend. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Virgil can’t help but notice as anxiety wells up inside of him because, fuck, they’d never said they were going to call each other boyfriend’s, just that they’d been on a few dates, but Mr. Hart had such a smug look and he couldn’t help it. Despite his raging internal monologue, Patton plants a hand onto the small of his back, lips curling into a smile.

“That’s right,” Patton says, “Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend.” 

The look of slackened shock on their faces would be priceless, weren’t it for the fact that these are still Patton’s parents, individuals who’ve had a direct influence on him throughout the entirety of his life.

“You’ve never – you’ve never mentioned a boyfriend before,” Patton’s mother says, glaring at her son. 

“And certainly not one who looks like some kind of a hooligan,” Mr. Hart grits, gesturing to Virgil’s dyed purple hair and pierced ears. Virgil intends to let the insult go, as it would only cause more trouble to confront it, but Patton has other ideas.

“Hey, you have no right to talk like that about Virgil,” Patton says, an edge to his voice that Virgil had yet to hear until now. Virgil grips for Patton’s hand, lacing their fingers together and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“How long has this been going on, sweetie?” Mrs. Hart chimes in, though it’s unclear if she’s referring to Virgil himself, or Patton’s sexuality as a whole. Either way, it’s a poor choice of words.

“My whole life, mom,” Patton spits, a venomous tone that would surely be louder if they weren’t at a wedding, “I’ve been gay my whole life, and nothing is going to change that.”

“But –.”

“But, nothing,” Patton interrupts boldly, “I’m not having this conversation, not again. If you can’t accept the fact that I’m never going to end up with ‘some nice girl,’ and that Virgil is absolutely wonderful, then we haven’t got anything to talk about.”

The words are a slap across Mr. and Mrs. Hart's face, who reel back in shock. 

“Patton, son –.”

“Goodbye,” Patton says, realizing it might very well be the last time he says it. He begins walking out of the reception and Virgil follows close behind. They make it outside, and luckily there’s no one else around.

“Pat… are you okay?” Virgil asks, reaching out to touch Patton’s shoulder.

“I’m done, Virgil. I’m done being gentle for them, I’m done pretending. It’s not worth it.” Pride wells in Virgil, even though he’s known Patton a little less than a week. 

“Well, then, I can tell you that was amazing! You kicked ass, Patton! Did you see the stupid look on their faces? They were so –.” Virgil is quickly interrupted when Patton’s lips collide against his, fingers gripping his lapels. Virgil needs a second to adjust and realize this is actually happening before he kisses back just as fervidly, his hands threading in Patton’s curls that are soft to the touch, just as he’d always imagined. 

“We’re – we’re not still pretending, right?” Virgil asks dumbly, and Patton shakes his head with a laugh, light, and airy.

“No, no of course not. Unless… you want it to be pretend?” 

“No! God, n-no! You’re amazing, Pat, you’re so kind, and soft and good and cute and… oh god, I’m rambling.” Patton giggles again, and Virgil decides it’s one of the best sounds he’s had the pleasure of hearing. 

“It’s cute.” 

“You’re cuter.”

“No, you are.”

The never-ending debacle of who is cuter is decidedly ended when their lips meet again, and Virgil’s positive this outweighs anything fantasy had to offer.

In the end, Patton hasn’t told a lie. Virgil is his boyfriend, even if they didn’t start the day out that way. The two walk back into the venue, hand-in-hand, watching as the Hart’s avert their eyes and Patton happily introduces Virgil to the family and friends who matter. 

Virgil’s never been so glad he walked into that coffee shop.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex 

@maryann-draws

Please let me know if you wanna be added to my general taglist! I’d be happy to add folks!