#gonna start forcing everyone to make accurate text post about them

[334iwatchshit]

thorbruce nation please wake the fuck up and start posting

[antiloreolympus]

7 Anti LO Asks

1. Do you know what really gets my blood boiling about this comic? Persephone and Demeter's relationship.

In the myths, Demeter and Persephone loved each other more than anything. Their reunion is so important - it marked the coming of spring and growth. A whole cult was dedicated to this for crying out loud. Yes, the myths were far from perfect, but the Persephone and Demeter myth showed the strength of a loving mother-daughter relationship with Demeter searching endlessly to find her child that was ripped away and had her innocence forcibly taken.

Now, RS is not the only author to make Demeter this over-bearing mother type in order to put more positivity onto the Hades-Persephone relationship. However, RS takes this trend to a whole new level - to the point where I would even consider it misogyny.

How is it, she takes this beautiful mother-daughter relationship and makes it out to be an abusive and controlling one, and then takes the Hades-Persephone relationship from a forceful one to a loving, perfect relationship with no problems? How is it ok to ruin one relationship to elevate another?

I understand that many versions of the myth try to downplay Hades' actions, and even make it so Persephone actually falls in love with him and there is no rape. But it doesn't change that this relationship was problematic, and meant to represent the loss of innocence.

Then fans have the gall to claim this comic is feminist and then claim on top of that that Demeter and Persephone's relationship was the same in the myth? These fans clearly don't know the myths, and neither does RS.

Making Hades a good person is fine. Changing it up a bit to make Persephone's loss of innocence something else is also fine. But ruining Demeter and Persephone's relationship? Especially when Persephone has to spend half the year with her? So horrible. 

2. im sorry, but rachel cant introduce KRONOS coming back and then dropping it for several episodes to focus on a stake-less trail and persephone not knowing what lingerie to seduce hades in. like thats too much of an earth shaking development and huge stake plot point to just ignore for months to focus instead on something as minor as hxp's relationship, which only points out a huge flaw: why is hxp's relationship so minor in this? isnt the whole point supposed to be about them?

3. I think LO completely dropped the ball over Hades’ characterization. 

From the first ep I thought ok, this is good, we have some bones to see he’s not that lucky in love and is just tired and lonely, and while ignoring the creepy actions towards Persephone, I thought ok, Artemis hates him, Hestia hates, even Ares hates him, maybe once Persephone finally sees the underworld and probably gets to know him it’ll be a clever twist and they’ll be proven wrong. The underworld will turn out to be fair and just, the citizens will love Hades, he’ll be revealed to be a good leader and king and not like his brothers, it’ll be like everyone saying Hades of myth isn’t actually that bad, and it’ll help reinforce why this sweet and bubbly Persephone wants him, she sees the real him, not the mean rumors and assumptions, this is perfect.

And then it just didn’t happen. The exact opposite happened, actually.

We’re shown the LO underworld is cruel and unjust, where the poor dead are forced into slavery and Hades created a harsh class divide with him and him only on top, the citizens hate him, the underworld gods don’t trust him and openly seem ok if he’s taken out of power, he’s not a good leader and king and doesn’t even want the job yet keeps it for his own ego and grip of power m, and on top of it all he is just like his brothers, if not worse. He loves to get violent over any little slight against him, he hoards wealth and resources to enrich himself while his citizens starve and struggle to survive, he’s corrupt, he controls all the media and laws to bend to his will, sleeps with his brothers wife for centuries behind his back while claiming to be holier than thou, he has sex with his secretaries who are made dependent on him for any way to survive, and now he lusts after his barely legal intern who is also now dependent on him for her way to survive, and that’s only what I remember off the top of my head.

LO perfectly set up to prove Hades isn’t the devil or the false pop culture assumption that he’s evil and to show some actual facts from myth, and yet Rachel only ended up reinforcing exactly that and even making him even worse with her made up ideas, all while thinking having Persephone ignore or excuse it somehow makes it not bad or even a good thing. It’s honestly kind of impressive just how bad of writing that actually is. 

4. Chapter 172 is not that interesting. It’s setup had me excited to see Hephaestus and Hera and learning more about echo, but it’s cut so short. Because again the story can’t leave HXP out for 2 seconds.

I can also see why Zeus is gonna go insane. 

5. i agree w/ other anon. LO should have pulled a PJO or a BoZ and just made up OCs and have them interact with the gods than whatever Rachel thinks shes doing, which is lying she's being accurate and faithful while completely changing all of it, removing what is needed, and adding what isnt so that it lines up with no actual myth besides like, various 50 shades fanfic she read in 2015 and some popular tumblr text posts.

6 . the animation studio behind blood of zeus literally can only draw one face for the men and one face for the women and they were still able to make the gods all look distinct and hot while LO can't even bother to use more than 6 colors and can only have the women look as tiny as possible with the biggest boobs while the men are all just lego men.

7. ////FP SPOILERS////

Okay so like I stopped reading LO way back before season 1 ended, and a majority of my knowledge of the series comes from what I read here on your blog which is enough for me lol and I decided to read the latest 5 chapters just to see what's up (on zahard. I refuse to give the actual series any views)

And I just. Could not take the whole scene with Daphne running from Apollo seriously? The anatomy and art inconsistency was so distracting that i genuinely could not find it serious. Even when Thanatos discovers her hibernated body I couldn't take it seriously because of how she looked?

And when Hades had that call (??? Was it a call? Or his inner dialogue? I couldn't really tell ngl) with Zeus and said he's causing Persephone unnecessary distress, and that she didn't pose any threat. B!tch??? She killed a ton of mortals??? She has no control over her powers???? She's literally a fugitive for the aforementioned things??? She apparently woke Kronos up? (Idk if anyone knows about that, again my knowledge only spans to whatever I read here) Hello????

And I have a lot to say about the chapters starting the trial but I'll only mention one thing; Hades saying "I don't think blindly supporting my little brother would be doing him any favours (as a ruler)" had me cackling. This is coming from a guy blindly supporting a girl he's literally only known for a few weeks, who's like what, only recently turned 20? Sit tf down Hades you're not cool, you creepy ass overgrown smurf.

Overall I still hate this series lmao. Regarding art though I feel like I wouldn't be so miffed about the anatomy much if the character designs were consistent and the story was compelling. They literally change hairstyles and body types frame by frame, and it's distracting.

The timeline from what I read here is laughable. 4 years in publication with almost 200 chapters and you're telling me only like a month has passed canonically. That's wild and such poor writing.

And as someone who literally will sympathise with any lead character pretty quickly, the story makes me hate them. It makes me want to root against them. I also hate the fact this trash is somehow top ranked on webtoons when so many other stories are far better then it.

Anyway, many thanks to this blog for existing and allowing me to dump so much text here to vent out my hate for this series lmao. You the mvp fam, hope you're having a good day 🥂🥂🥂

[tbhsoft]

life bar

idol!haechan x idol!y/n

summary: after the legendary interview was released, you and haechan began dating and have been getting an overwhelming sense of support.

genre: fluff

length: 2.1k

a/n: ah! i didn’t think the first post would gain any traction but it did! thank you so much for returning for a part two :)

this is modeled after the korean variety show, life bar. it’s a great show where celebrities aren’t subject to formal interview settings. please check it out! (mark did appear on the show with xiumin and changmin)

i’m not entirely sure of the hosts’ (other than heechul & yura) popularity outside of korea so excuse me for just labelling them as hosts.

if you missed part one, click here!

originally dnghycks’ gif

[the atmosphere is lively and filled with joy] host: how long have you been dating again?

heechul: oh, haechan! you’re dating someone?

haechan: ah, hyung! let’s not act like no one knows.

[heechul, dejected, grumbles to himself]

johnny (laughing): haechan didn’t fall for your bait.

[haechan winks at heechul, making heechul go into mock rage]

host: so, it’s been about 4 years?

[haechan plays with the glass in his hands, smiling to himself]

haechan (shyly): ya, just about.

heechul: are you guys still in your honeymoon phase?

host: do you still get butterflies when you see them?

haechan (nodding): of course! it hasn’t been that long.

heechul: it’s difficult to have a successful relationship as an idol. how did you guys handle it after that interview went viral?

haechan: it was very different to what i expected, you know?

haechan: first of all, we were preparing for the award shows and i was super focused.

haechan: i think it was during our water break that notifications were blowing up all of our phones.

johnny: we were so confused and thought it was from our managers.

haechan: i didn’t react immediately but i could hear the other members reacting, saying things like “no way” or “holy crap”.

haechan: everyone turned and looked at me. i felt like an imposter.

haechan: i was like “what? do i have something on my face? did someone send a meme of me?”

haechan: that’s when mark hyung showed me the news articles.

haechan: i blanked out for the rest of the day if i’m honest, barely remember anything from that day.

haechan: the only thing i remember was the pit in my stomach growing every time i stopped practicing. so, i kept pushing myself so i didn’t have time to think.

johnny: haechan actually fainted that day. he worked himself so hard that we had to rush him to the hospital.

haechan: luckily, it was just exhaustion and i could still perform. but, when i woke up, they told me to rest as much as possible.

haechan: the managers made sure i didn’t leave the house and told me to rest up.

haechan: it forced me to process what the news articles were saying.

haechan: once i did, all i was worried about was how y/n might be handling it.

haechan: was jyp going to give them a hard time?

host: did you text them?

haechan: because we were both focused on the award shows, i thought it best to avoid contact with them until it was all over.

johnny: even when it was all over, he still couldn’t text them.

johnny: i remember haechan pacing our room, trying to decide whether or not to call them.

haechan: i wanted to offer comfort but i wasn’t sure if it would aggravate the situation.

haechan: i think it was a few days after the last award show that i had an official meeting with lee sooman and the press team.

haechan: my eyes were wide the entire meeting.

haechan: lee sooman started the meeting by saying “congratulations!” and i was confused.

haechan: he went on to explain that he liked y/n for me and would support this relationship publicly as long as it didn’t affect my work.

haechan: i couldn’t really articulate my feelings so i think i just nodded.

haechan: he continued asking me about y/n after it, asking if we had made it official yet.

haechan: when i said no, he said that he would issue a buffer statement so i had time to ask them out.

haechan: the meeting concluded and, on my way home, y/n texted me.

heechul: what did they say?

haechan: “can we talk?”

heechul (dramatically rubbing his arms): oh no! the chills!

[haechan chuckles and takes a sip of his beer]

haechan: i told them we should meet in person to talk about it as professionals and adults.

johnny: when he tells it like that, it makes him seem tough. he was tearing up while he was getting ready to go out.

[haechan throws dried squid at johnny]

johnny: yo, thank you! i was hungry!

haechan (rolling his eyes): i wasn’t tearing up—

johnny: you’re right! you were sobbing. my bad!

johnny: you were so scared that you were gonna lose y/n.

[haechan balls up his fist in playful anger]

haechan: if only…

haechan: anyways, i was scared that i was going to be entering the new year without my best friend.

haechan: i asked johnny to drive me to our meeting spot so our manager wouldn’t know.

haechan: once we got there, y/n was already waiting on the bench for me so i told johnny to just chill in the car.

johnny: this is when i snuck my phone in his parka so i could wiretap the conversation.

[haechan pinches his nose bridge]

haechan: ah, hyung! privacy! no wonder your guesses were so accurate.

haechan: anyways, we sat down and talked like we always do. then, we got together!

johnny: in the end, y/n asked him out because he kept stumbling over his words.

johnny: y/n was giggling the whole time. it was very wholesome.

[haechan facepalms while the hosts laugh]

heechul (facing the camera): y/n, please take care of haechan! i know he lacks courage sometimes but—

haechan: really, now? after 4 years?

[johnny laughs while patting haechan’s head]

host: do you hold any resentment towards your interviewers?

[haechan takes a swig of his beer]

haechan: i did at the beginning? i don’t think y/n or i were ready to confess our feelings to each other’s faces just yet.

haechan: but, it’s not entirely their fault either.

haechan: i think, because we kept it a secret for so long, we wanted to tell someone and it was the first time we were prompted to talk about it under the veil of false security.

johnny (understandingly): and it’s easier to tell strangers than your closest friends, right?

haechan: for sure. i think a small part of me did hope they would see the entire interview at some point and that’s why i was so transparent.

heechul: and, because of that, you’re in a beautiful relationship now!

haechan (grinning): thank goodness for that!

host: what did they say when you told them you were coming to our show?

[haechan throws his head back in laughter]

johnny (chuckling): they told him that his taste in alcohol sucks and that they felt sorry for the hosts.

heechul: but, all the drinks you recommended are so good!

haechan (wiping away tears): that’s because they’re their recommendations. i don’t really drink for taste, only the social aspect.

johnny: y/n doesn’t like alcohol. so, if they think something tastes good, then it tastes amazing.

heechul: let’s raise our glasses to our hero, y/n!

[everyone happily raises their glass and cheers to you]

host: did you take them on a date immediately after the statements were released?

haechan: well, i wanted to… but, busy schedules and the fact that we hung out so much beforehand made it near impossible to have a good first date.

johnny: he was looking up “good date ideas” online and kept complaining that he already did those.

haechan: it wasn’t intentional. i guess y/n and i just liked to do couple things unironically.

heechul: i can’t believe you guys never got caught.

haechan: i think it’s because we were dressed so plainly without any disguises.

haechan: only a few people ever recognized our bare faces.

haechan: so, i decided to take them to jeju to see my mom after she called me.

johnny (laughing): i remember that call! she was like “now, bring my future in-law or else i’ll beat you up!”

haechan: when we got there, my mom totally ignored me and went straight for them.

haechan: she told them “i knew donghyuck liked you! he’s such a loser for not asking you out sooner.”

[haechan massages his temple and sighs]

johnny: on the record, haechan’s mom definitely loves y/n more than him.

[haechan nods in agreement]

haechan: so, after my mom babied y/n enough, i took them where you could see the stars perfectly.

haechan: i was really nervous and i didn’t really know what to do until y/n grabbed my hand.

haechan: they looked at me and said “as long as you’re with me, every passing moment is perfect. so, stop trying so hard.”

heechul: woah, y/n is so cool.

haechan: they really are. so, we spent our first real date stargazing and just enjoyed each other’s company.

[the host introduces the next dish and haechan helps set the table] heechul: why don’t we call y/n?

haechan (hesitant): i don’t know if they’re awake. they’re always taking naps at this time.

heechul: i’ll call them.

[heechul rings you up]

you (groggily): hello?

heechul: y/n! it’s heechul with the life bar crew. if you could introduce yourself.

[shuffling is heard through the phone]

you (clearer): all in us! hello, i’m y/n from itzy!

heechul: we were just talking about your relationship and wanted to hear your perspective.

[heechul motions haechan to say something]

haechan (sweetly): hi, darling. i’m sorry we interrupted your nap.

you: no, it’s okay! my alarm was about to go off anyways.

haechan: i was telling them about what happened after the interview and our first date.

you: ah, those were interesting.

heechul: oh? interesting, how?

you (giggling): if you know haechan, you know he doesn’t really cry, much less sob. but, when he showed up to talk, his eyes were puffy from crying so much and he had tear streaks on his face.

haechan (pouting): let’s not expose too much, y/n!

you (teasingly): what are you gonna do? cry on me?

[haechan sits back in his chair, frowning]

you: anyways! i vividly remember feeling bolder after the interview, not that i wasn’t nervous about public opinion.

you: however, i was actually talking to jyp when everything blew up.

you: he reassured me that he didn’t mind and he would support any decision i made.

you: just like that, he removed a whole weight off of my shoulders.

you: so, i was able to perform with confidence and complete reassurance.

you: but, whenever i saw hyuck at the award shows, he looked like he was about to implode so i thought it was better to wait for him to text me.

you: i’m sure johnny told you how frustrated the whole group was. i was the exact same.

[haechan blushes and buries his face in his hands]

you: i just wanted to be able to call him mine but he wouldn’t text me.

[everyone laughs and quietly teases haechan]

you (laughing): honestly, i was really impatient but i didn’t want to push him. so, i waited for a whole week after the last award show.

you: but, he was avoiding me really well! i even had to text johnny to make sure he was still alive.

you: so, i decided to just reach out to him first.

you: during the meeting, i tried to act like normal and tease him about his puffy face but he was having none of it.

you: “y/n, this is serious. this is our careers we’re talking about.”

you: i was scared for a moment until he was stumbling his confession out.

you: “the interview! i meant it. everything. i do. i would really like it if— i mean if you feel the same way— of course you do! you said it in the video. you do feel the same way, right?”

haechan (whining): you’re making me sound lame!

you: no, you were cute! but, also, slightly lame.

[you cackle through the phone]

you: so, i just asked him.

heechul: how about the first date?

you: he was so worried about being romantic and having that perfect first date that he forgot that i’m just a simple person.

you: when we went to see the stars, he was so nervous and was getting frustrated with himself.

you: to me, the effort he went through in itself was romantic to me.

you: i didn’t need the most spectacular first date because him being by my side was more than perfect.

you: so, i just let him know my thoughts and, when he finally relaxed, it became the most memorable first date ever.

heechul: what happened after he relaxed?

haechan: i listed all the little things that made me fall in love with them time and time again.

[everyone awes]

you: he made me feel like the most beautiful being in the universe.

heechul: okay! before this turns to sappy, y/n! thank you so much for joining us today!

you (laughing): it was my pleasure! invite me next time so i can expose haechan!

haechan: ya!

heechul: will do, bye!

[heechul hangs up the call]

host: you can definitely feel the love between you two.

haechan (in mock anger): i’m going to jump them the next time i see them.

heechul (grinning): well, i wish you guys nothing but happiness. host (raising his glass): to haechan and y/n’s beautiful relationship! [glasses clink as a bright grin appears on haechan’s face]

a/n: if i’m completely honest, idk how relationships work so idk if the way i wrote about this situation was done in a healthy way :P

pls feel free to give me feedback because i’m always looking to improve!

thank you so much for reading once again!

also, idk really know how taglists work so... @wownajaemin​, hello!

[mushroomjar]

holding my hands out ..... please show me ur picrews for em >:3c no reason... im just curious .... (definitely not grabbing my stylus)

NOOOOO STOP WHY IS EVERYONE BEING SO NICE TONIGHT HERE I'M GONNA CRY I'M😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺

Okay okay aaahhh I'll show! But I think the post will get long with all the images so I'll out it under a read more

Aahhh this is literally why I need to learn to draw, most of the time Picrew can't do them justice!! But I do my best and I'm happy with what I can do

ID in alt text

This is Avery (he/him preferred but any pronouns that aren't she/her are okay), the sleep-deprived punk of the group (it is very hard to make a visible punk on Picrew so you have to trust me on this one, like in my head he cannot wear an outfit that doesn't have at least a couple patches on it). Half-Argentinian, half-USAmerican (you should assume all my OCs are Argentinian unless specifically stated otherwise). Looks like a very unapproachable person but is actually super thoughtful and kind even to strangers... though he does have a very quick temper, so he at least tries his best. His scars are from frequently getting into fights, which doesn't help at all. Most likely to get in trouble for the most insignificant stuff, will fuck things up on purpose. Despite all this, Avril Lavigne is one of his top artists on Spotify

Nadia (she/her) was one of my first OCs from the ones I'll be talking about in this post, and she's changed a lot but at the same time she's remained exactly the same so whenever I think about her I always get so 🥺 A very sweet and kind girl, but also a meme expert. She's usually the one in charge of making the memes for the friend group, not that she minds. Very easy to get along and make friends with her, but good luck getting to read any of her writing (wants to become a writer, doesn't show her writing to anyone. Perfectionism will do that to you). I did make another Picrew like the first one I showed for Avery since I usually make a Picrew like that for every one of my OCs, but I can never get her to look quite right in it, so I decided to just show this one, since it's extremely accurate to how I picture her in my head

Luka (he/him) is the social butterfly of the group and the one that lacks all the braincells. Very passionate about his hobbies and interests (all musical interests, mainly, like singing and playing instruments), also very passionate about climbing the most unclimbable trees (yes, he does end up falling off of them a lot). Pretty hyperactive and easily bored, so he's always looking for something to do. Absolutely cannot stay still, except for when the hyperfixation hits. He can be very clueless and sometimes a bit tactless, but at the end of the day he'll be one of your best friends and genuinely cares a lot about you. Oh, also, French. Sorry.

Felix (he/him) is the opposite of a social butterfly, would much rather stay at home and lie about all day than interact with new people. Which is why people don't believe he's Luka's best friend. A bit quiet at first, but once you get to know him, if you can engage conversation in a topic he likes, he'll talk and talk for hours on end. So if you actually want to know how bees are able to fly, just ask him, and be willing to sit there and listen for an hour, he'll be too excited to stop once he starts. Also really into mushrooms (because I needed to give that interest to an OC too) and Spider-Man, he forced absolutely everyone he knows to watch all the movies because "we can't be friends if you don't like even one of the movies"

Ximena (pronounced hee-meh-nah) (they/them), aka the funky earrings lesbian of the group. This is another case of the Picrew not being good enough to portray them. I mean, the stickers and hairpins are accurate, but Ximena is the type to wear very bright colors and to dress in mainly rainbows with thousands of accessories at a time (think like a mix of kidcore and rainbow with decora influences, that's them). Absolutely stim machine, which actually makes them a really good companion to Luka. And like Luka, they are incapable of speaking at a low volume. Adores their friends and constantly goes out of their way to do things with/for them. If you're their friend you will end up with at least five friendship bracelets they made for you, and you better save every single one of them. Very optimistic and intelligent, wants to become a scientist in the future

And this is Claudia! (She/her) It's pretty hard to make alt people in Picrews as I've confirmed multiple times myself ;-; She's actually a goth! Has been dressing as such since very little. She's a very blunt and honest person, which makes a lot of people think she's rude. She's not rude for being completely monotone and never lying, she's rude because insulting people is her passion! Not a single person is safe from her hateful remarks. So, basically, the definition of a mean lesbian. Luka usually ends up being the victim of most of her remarks, and no one knows if it's because she's really fond of him or if she genuinely hates him, and oh my god why have I mentioned Luka so many times in this post, he isn't even my favorite. Anyways, Claudia is also a piercings enthusiast, and though she hates other people touching her, she absolutely loves styling other people's hair. She also dabbles in drawing. She's extremely perceptive, and all her friends are really glad to be her friends

And because you said you liked her, here's Ciara! (She/they) She's one of my newest OCs so I'm still developing them, but they go back and forth between lovecore outfits and pastel punk outfits, they are incapable of wearing an outfit that doesn't have at least a little pink. Seems like a cinnamon roll but is actually very foul-mouthed and has a bit of a temper. They are nice, they just find it fun to not be nice sometimes. Half-Irish, half-Argentinian. Huge metalhead, it's the genre she listens to the most and she doesn't listen to a lot of music outside of it. And like I said before, Claudia's girlfriend

Okay that's it, I've been at this for an hour. And I've done all of this without talking about Andrea, Felix's dads and their best friend, Avery's neighborhood friends, his sister, Nadia's sister, Ximena's siblings or my fantasy OCs. I think that's the biggest intro I've made for my OCs in one sitting! I decided to only mention the main ones (except for Ciara, I made a special mention for her since you said you liked her tag)

So I hope you enjoyed that! Because I did! And again thank youuu so so so so so much for the ask! I love getting to talk about my OCs, even if I've been getting to do it more often lately it stills always gets me so happy and excited (blorbos from my head I guess). Have a super nice rest of the day and/or week!!

[laceymorganwrites]

Crush

Word count: 2,011

Pairing: none

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Atsumu has a crush on you, a third year and misses all the chances to make something out of it.

Song: Crush - Tessa Violet

Tagging: @akaashichigo

Uh, alright I can't focus on what needs to get done

Why the fuck did this always happen to him? He had important things to do, to focus on, he couldn´t have you occupy his mind all the time.

Though it wasn´t really your fault, but then again it was.

You had no right being so beautiful, so intelligent, so funny, so charming, so fucking breathtaking.

Of course he had to catch feelings for you, even though you weren´t even in the same class. Of course he did. He always wanted what he couldn´t have and he kind of got off on the fact that you´d never look his way more than he liked to admit.

I'm on notice hoping that you don't run, ah You think I'm tepid but I'm misdiagnosed

His brother, friends and teammates had enough of him nonstop talking about you. They fucking knew. He had it bad for you, they knew. But that was no excuse for him being distracted all the time during training. They needed him, he was basically the most important part in their play.

It couldn´t go on like this, something needed to be done.

Luckily Kita had just the solution for it, they all thought it would be foolproof. Especially when even Kita had enough of Atsumu´s behavior and lack of concentration.

'Cause I'm a stalker I seen all of your posts, ah-ah

And I'm just tryna play it cool now

Everybody knew the plan and yet everyone was anxious because nobody knew how Atsumu would react.

It all depended on you.

So when you walked into the gym because Kita told you to wait for him there before you´d work on your project together, all eyes were on Atsumu.

It was like he froze in place, his eyes went wide like he couldn´t believe it.

And you didn´t even look at him, you just sat right down in the back and scribbled in your notebook.

But that's not what I wanna do now And I'm not tryna be with you now, you now Mhm

Atsumu tried his hardest to concentrate on the training, but he caught himself staring at you all the time, everyone else noticed too and they were unsure if that was a good thing or not.

“Yer know she´s not looking cause ya suck!” Osamu called out to him, startling his older brother.

And yet his words hit. Atsumu set the ball more accurately and one serve of his even made you look up, which he didn´t notice since he was too focused on the game.

You make it difficult to not overthink And when I'm with you I turn all shades of pink, ah

After practice Kita dragged Atsumu with him to meet you. It was strange how nervous he was, when Kita asked him when Atsumu first started crushing on you, he didn´t want to meet you at all. He cared way too much about what people thought of him, so it scared him that there was a possibility that you could hate him.

Now there was no turning back though, not with Kita dragging him behind him with an iron grip.

“Can we go now, Kita? I think if we hurry up we could finish the project today” you said, barely looking at Atsumu.

“Just a moment, I want you to meet Atsumu. He´s been too afraid to approach you and it´s getting frustrating” he honestly said, even sighing to prove his point.

You chuckled, knowing that he always talked about his teammates, so he must be one of the troublemaker twins. You also thought you saw him around in the hallways some time, but weren´t so sure.

“Just what the hell have you been telling him, Kita? I don´t bite… that hard” you responded, meeting Atsumu´s eyes. He looked at you really intensely, yet didn´t meet your eyes and the blush on his face betrayed him.

I wanna touch you but don't wanna be weird It's such a rush, I'm thinking wish you were here, ah-ahh

And I'm just tryna play it cool now But that's not what I wanna do now And I'm not tryna be with you now, you now

“I´m (Y/N) by the way, but I think you already knew that” you stretched your hand out for him to shake and noticed that his was sweaty and shaking a bit.

“It´s nice to meet you” he forced out, trying to be as polite as possible, he at least wanted to make a good first impression.

“You make a mean serve but I think you also already knew that” you noted, having trouble making conversation with him since he seemed so out of it.

But I could be your crush, like, throw you for a rush, like Hoping you'd text me so I could tell you I been thinking 'bout your touch like Touch, touch, touch, touch, touch I could be your crush, crush, crush, crush, crush I got a fascination with your presentation Making me feel like you're on my island You're my permanent vacation Touch, touch, touch, touch, touch I could be your crush, crush, crush, crush, crush Sorry

“It wasn´t that good, I still need to improve a lot” he said and the worst part about it was that he sounded like he believed it.

“Learn how to take a compliment, will ya?” you smiled, you couldn´t quite figure him out.

Atsumu didn´t seem like the type of guy to get insecure about his abilities, especially as his position as setter, he always seemed so sure of himself. You saw it in his games too, it was weird.

He at least had the decency to look sort of ashamed as you said that, Kita held back a chuckle.

I fill my calendar with stuff I can do Maybe if I'm busy it could keep me from you

Ever since then you came to their training quite often, which was more because you and Kita had to organize quite a bit for graduation and it was easier when you just waited for him. Atsumu became hyper aware of your presence, he wanted to impress you so bad but he knew that you only viewed him as a kouhai. He hated it.

Honestly, he knew that you´d never look at him twice, the only reason you even talked to him was because Kita basically forced you to. You didn´t want to talk to him, you never thought about him, you never imagined what it would feel like to hold his hand, if it would be calloused while yours was so soft, you never yearned to hear his laugh, you never dreamed about how soft your lips might be and you sure as hell couldn´t care less about him.

And I'm pretending you ain't been on my mind But I took an interest in the things that you like, ah-ahh

Kita was worried about the future of the team, you knew that. He always worried about his juniors which was nice, but still, he worried too much for his own good. They´d make it. You had to worry about your exams right now and so should he.

You tried your best to support your friend and get his mind off things but it was hard.

As you sat in the gym, waiting for him and watching the team, you felt a bit of nostalgia, you´d miss going to their games to support them.

Maybe you´d even miss Atusmu, maybe he wasn´t as bad as you thought, but then again, you´d probably never find out.

And I'm just tryna play it cool now But that's not what I wanna do now And I'm not tryna be with you now, you now

“Just ask her already, for fuck´s sake…” Kita groaned and everyone went quiet. He never swore, but then again, if there was a person who´d be able to make him,  it´d be Atsumu.

Prom night was coming up and you casually let it slip that you still didn´t have a date, naturally Kita told Atsumu in hopes he´d take the hint. Which he didn´t of course. He was thinking way too much into it, he kept saying how he wasn´t good enough, how you could do so much better and didn´t even like him that way.

“And how the hell are yer gonna find out if all yer ever do is run away from yer feelings?” Osamu punched his shoulder.

But I could be your crush, like, throw you for a rush, like Hoping you'd text me so I could tell you I been thinking 'bout your touch like Touch, touch, touch, touch, touch I could be your crush, crush, crush, crush, crush I got a fascination with your presentation Making me feel like you're on my island You're my permanent vacation Touch, touch, touch, touch, touch I could be your crush, crush, crush, crush, crush

In the end he didn´t ask you, chickening out like he always did. It was just a stupid crush anyway and you didn´t even want him to be there. He was the one who had stupid one sided feelings for you, it wasn´t like you did. It wasn´t like you cared, like you ever spared him a glance in the hallways.

He was just one of the annoying twins Kita told you about, he was just the setter of your school´s team, he was just a second year.

And yeah it's true that I'm a little bit intense, right But can you blame me when you keep me on the fence, like And I've been waiting, hoping that you'd wanna text, like Text like It's what I was born to do And yeah it's true that I'm a little bit intense, right But can you blame me when you keep me on the fence, like And I've been waiting, hoping that you'd wanna text, like Text like Ugh

You got ready for prom which you really weren´t looking forward to. It would be so boring with all the speeches from the teachers and the pretentious ones from the student council. Honestly, you weren´t even there yet and you wanted to go home already. At least your friends would be there. You didn´t want to think about graduation and all the responsibilities that would be dumped onto you afterwards. You just wanted to enjoy one more night without anything to think about.

And I'm just tryna play it cool now But that's not what I wanna do now And I'm not tryna be with you now, you now

Atsumu kept on training, it was weird with the third years being gone now and he caught himself look for Kita for advice every time. He missed his captain telling him and Osamu to behave, he missed having him around because it all felt so easy with Kita, he was the best captain he could´ve ever asked for and he vowed that he´d make him proud.

He nearly perfected his serve and was so caught up in denial that he didn´t even face the fact that you graduated and he wouldn´t ever see you again.

It was a week later that it settled in, he missed seeing you in the halls, missed you coming to their games and waiting for Kita at the gym.

Sure, you barely spoke a word, but still, he could´ve made a move if he hadn´t been such a coward. But it was too late for that now, he wouldn´t ever see you again.

It shouldn´t hurt this much, you were just a stupid high school crush.

But I could be your crush, like, throw you for a rush, like Hoping you'd text me so I could tell you I been thinking 'bout your touch like Touch, touch, touch, touch, touch I could be your crush, crush, crush, crush, crush I got a fascination with your presentation Making me feel like you're on my island You're my permanent vacation Touch, touch, touch, touch, touch I could be your crush, crush, crush, crush, crush Sorry

[sesamestreep]

stack the deck with wild cards (chapter 1)

(read on AO3)

SUMMARY: The situation with Cassian is complicated even before Jyn finds out she's pregnant, but deciding to get an abortion should really be the last straw for him, right? If there was any chance he'd still want to date her, she thought it had to be long gone by now. And yet he always finds a way to surprise her. [AKA - The Obvious Child AU you didn't know you wanted]

A/N: I’m going to be posting chapters of this fic daily, since it’s already completed. I never write chapter fic, so I have no idea what I’m doing and please bear with me. Also, this fic (and the movie it gets its plot from) is about abortion, so if that’s not something you’re into reading about, you should really strongly consider not reading this. I promise you won’t hurt my feelings. For those interested, there’s additional notes if you follow the AO3 link above. If you want to blacklist any future updates of this fic on tumblr, I’ll tag it with [#stack the deck verse] for your convenience. Chapter 2 should be posted tomorrow. Stay golden.

The reality of the current situation doesn’t hit Jyn at the doctor’s office when she gets the news or even when she’s booking her follow-up appointment. It doesn’t sink in when they tell her how much it will cost or give her the information she’ll need or the prescriptions to fill. It doesn’t hit her when she’s on the subway, heading home and texting Bodhi with numb fingers to see if he wants to have a movie night, or even when his cheery reply—replete with emojis—comes through saying he can come over tonight.

No, the moment everything becomes real is when she’s standing in the wine aisle at Trader Joe’s, going back and forth on whether spending eight dollars on a bottle of wine so that she can drink all of it in one sitting is irresponsible when she’s pregnant but she’s also not keeping the baby. It’s only then that she starts crying.

She’ll blame it on the hormones if anyone asks, she decides, which might even be accurate. She’s not really a crier under normal circumstances, but even if she wasn’t pregnant, she’s pretty sure draining her savings account for a medical procedure that she wouldn’t need if she had just been a little more responsible with her body would make her cry no matter how tough she thinks she is. Lucky for her, though, she lives in New York City and no one bats an eye at a crying woman in the grocery store. An older woman with a toddler in the seat of her grocery cart passes by and nods in understanding without saying a word, which is oddly comforting.

It’s the reminder that she needs to be careful about her money that talks Jyn out of buying wine for this evening (Bodhi probably wouldn’t have any and she doesn’t need to drink an entire bottle by herself under any circumstances, let alone these, even if she really really wants to), but she goes on to throw whatever snacks she wants into the cart indiscriminately because it has been a spectacularly shitty day. She spends more than she should (what else is new?) and sweats profusely trying to drag all of it back to her sixth floor apartment. She slams cabinet doors in frustration as she puts everything away and then takes the longest, hottest shower her shitty pipes in her shitty apartment will allow. When she emerges, her skin is bright pink and she pokes her stomach viciously, somehow annoyed and confused and relieved all at the same time that it gives away nothing of her current condition.

She spends too long sitting in a towel on her bed, dicking around on her phone instead of getting ready and ultimately decides Bodhi doesn’t care what her hair looks like and so she runs a comb through it and calls it done. She puts on her softest, stretchiest leggings and an ugly sweater she raided from her dad’s closet when she was a teenager that she loves because it has been washed and worn so many times that the sleeves now have holes in them that she can stick her thumbs through. It’s easily the least glamorous look she could have come up with, but she’s pregnant and she’s mad about it, so she’s going for comfort over style.

By the time the buzzer goes off, signaling Bodhi’s arrival, Jyn has managed to light a few candles and put some of the snacks she bought into bowls, so at least it looks like she put effort into some part of the evening. She presses the button to let him up and fidgets as she waits to open the door. She has to tell Bodhi as a trial run for telling…well, everyone else, basically…but a part of her wants to tell no one, deal with it by herself and pretend nothing is wrong. Of course, that would be stupid—the doctor even told her not to try and handle this by herself—but it seems more appealing than the alternative at this particular moment. It’s not possible, though. She needs someone to come with her to the appointment, at the very least, and Bodhi will do it without hesitation, that much she’s sure of.

When she hears footsteps in the hallway, she undoes the locks and opens the door. She takes a deep breath that is immediately squeezed out of her when Bodhi wraps her in a big hug.

“It’s so good to see you,” he says, rocking her a little side to side as he embraces her. “I’m so glad you suggested this! I feel like I’ve barely seen you lately.”

“I know,” Jyn says, clinging a little. Her eyes feel misty again already and that is definitely the hormones’ fault.

Bodhi pulls back to smile at her and his eyes catch on the candles and food. He gives her a suspicious look. “Okay, if this is an intervention for spending too much time with my new boyfriend, I know I deserve it but also I would have expected a much better turn out. You couldn’t even get Cassian here?”

Jyn winces at the mention of Cassian’s name but she thinks she covers it quickly with a forced smile. “It’s not an intervention,” she says as she steps around him to close the door.

“So why all the fanfare for a regular movie night?”

“What fanfare? There’s no fanfare!”

“Jyn, you put cheese puffs in a bowl ,” Bodhi says, as if she’s being obtuse. “You’re gonna have to wash that later. You did not have to do that for me.”

It’s on the tip of her tongue to make a joke— I’m nesting —but she refrains. “It’s no big deal,” she says, instead, and gestures to the couch for him to take a seat.

“If you say so,” he replies, still eyeing her warily and not taking the hint.

“Why don’t we sit down?” She finally asks, sounding strange and false even to her own ears. She leads the way over to the couch and Bodhi follows her, eventually lowering himself into the armchair with the same demeanor of someone approaching a wild animal.

“Jyn, seriously,” he says, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees once she’s curled up like a cat across from him, “is everything alright? You’re acting...odd.”

“Everything is fine,” she says, lightly, and hopes that saying so makes it true. “I just, uh, need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

Jyn twists her hands together nervously, not sure how to get started now that the moment is finally here. “I need you to promise you’re not going to freak out,” she says, stalling for time.

“Ah, yes, that thing everyone says when everything is, in fact, totally fine.”

“Bodhi…”

“You’re leaving New York, aren’t you?” He asks, worried. “To be closer to Saw?”

“What? No, I—”

“Oh my god, it’s not Saw, is it?! He didn’t die, did he?”

“No, Saw is fine,” Jyn says, resisting the urge to rub her temple in frustration. “I mean, he’s not fine , obviously, he’s still sick, but he’s not—”

“Tell me you’re not quitting the band,” Bodhi interrupts. “Listen, I know things have been crazy lately, but I think—”

“Bodhi, I’m pregnant,” Jyn shouts, and the silence that follows is overwhelming.

“You’re…?”

“Pregnant. With child. Expecting,” she says, bitterly. “Yes.”

He looks like he’s been hit over the head with a mallet, which is bizarrely satisfying. She handled the news better and it was actually happening to her.

“How long have you known?” He asks, after a long time and with apparent effort. It’s not the first question she expected, but it’s not totally surprising.

“Like, five hours.”

“Five—?” Bodhi shakes his head in what she thinks is disbelief. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Jyn just blinks in response. What is he talking about? “Sorry?”

“You and Reece broke up like six months ago, how did you not realize you were pregnant sooner?” He asks.

“I…Bodhi, I’m not six months pregnant,” Jyn sputters. She smacks her stomach to drive home the point, which in retrospect is a stupid move, but she’s not thinking straight. “I mean, do I look it?”

“No! No,” he says immediately. “That’s why I was so confused, but you…you haven’t been with anyone since the breakup. You would have told me.”

When Jyn says nothing in response, just bites her lip, Bodhi narrows his eyes at her. “You would have told me, right?” He asks.

Jyn takes a deep breath, looking down at her hands. “I’m eight weeks pregnant,” she says, feeling close to tears again. “I found out today, I have an appointment in a few weeks to—to terminate it. I just need someone to go with me, the nurse said I had to, otherwise I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“Jyn,” he says, placing his hand over hers. “Of course, I’ll go with you. I just—I’m not upset with you, you know that, right?”

She nods, even though she doesn’t feel altogether certain of it. She loves Bodhi and trusts him, more than she trusts almost anyone else, but she’s not convinced she deserves to have him be nice to her after she’s fucked things up this badly. He ought to be upset with her.

“I know,” she says, anyway. A single tear escapes, which is just perfect. “I’m upset with myself.”

“Are you okay?” Bodhi asks, delicately. “Did this person hurt you or force you in some way?”

“No, no. God, no,” Jyn says, pulling her hands free with more aggression than the act required. She wipes the tears away in annoyance. “Nothing like that.”

“Thank God,” he says, looking heavenward and everything. “Then why all the secrecy? I texted you the minute I finished hooking up with Taidu for the first time.”

Jyn laughs even as she continues crying. “I did not ask you to do that.”

“No, but...not even a braggy ‘I just got laid!’ text? I thought we were best friends!”

“We are,” she replies hastily. “I was just embarrassed.”

“Why?” He asks, intrigued. “Is this person weird? Are they famous?”

She laughs again, feeling better in spite of the bomb she’s about to drop. “No, Bodhi…”

“They’re not married, are they? Because I promise not to judge you, but come on!”

“They’re not married.”

“Good, because for a second I was worried you slept with Baze and that would definitely break up the band,” he says, solemnly.

Jyn smacks his shoulder half-heartedly. “I would never sleep with Baze,” she says. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Fine,” Bodhi says. “So, it was Chirrut, then?”

“Bodhi!”

“Well, you’re being so cryptic,” he shoots back. “If you just told me—”

“I slept with Cassian.”

Bodhi just blinks at her for a long, torturous moment. She’s never actually seen Bodhi yell at anyone before, so she doesn’t know if that’s what is about to happen but she braces herself for it anyway.

“What,” he finally says, flat like a statement and not a question.

“I had sex with Cassian and now I’m pregnant,” she says firmly, as if just admitting it out loud isn’t making her heart hammer in her chest.

“You’re pregnant with Cassian’s baby,” Bodhi says, disbelieving and Jyn winces. She’s been trying not to think of it as an actual baby, because she’s not keeping it. But if she did nothing for seven more months, she would have a baby and it would be Cassian’s, in a purely biological sense. She doesn’t admit to that line of thinking to Bodhi, though.

“Yes,” she says, instead. “Technically,” she adds, because she can’t stop herself.

“Technically? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just—Getting someone pregnant doesn’t make a man a father,” she says, with more heat than she intended. “Raising a child does. And there’s not going to be a child, so…that’s all I meant.”

“Sorry,” Bodhi says, placing his hands over hers again. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just so surprised.”

“You didn’t upset me,” Jyn replies, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s these stupid hormones, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. He moves to sit next to her on the couch, and she folds her legs up to give him room. “How did he take it when you told him?”

Jyn winces again before she can stop herself and she knows she doesn’t hide her reaction quickly enough from the way Bodhi stands abruptly. He always paces when he’s freaked out.

“Jyn, please tell me Cassian knows,” he pleads as he makes a circuit around her coffee table.

“I’ve only known for half a day! I haven’t had a chance to tell him!”

“Why would you tell me and not him?”

“You’re my best friend!”

“It’s his baby!”

“I wanted to make sure you could come to my appointment with me,” she says, and hopes the reminder is enough to make him feel sorry for her. He only stops pacing, but that’s still an improvement. “I was hoping you’d tell me what to do,” she adds, since it’s the actual truth.

“Well, obviously, go to your appointment,” Bodhi says, sinking back onto the couch.

“No, I mean—what I should do about Cassian?”

Bodhi looks over at her, confused. “What do you mean, what should you do about him? Tell him what’s going on.”

“I know, but how?”

“Same way you told me. Use your words.”

“Can I text him?”

“Absolutely not,” he says, scandalized. “You can’t tell him you’re pregnant via text. Who raised you?!”

“Saw.”

He acknowledges that with a nod. “Fair point.”

“I bet you’re going to say I can’t leave him a voicemail either,” Jyn says.

“You’re right, but mostly because no one under the age of eighty checks their voicemail anymore,” he says, patting her knee absently.

“Really?”

“Really,” Bodhi replies. “Just...sit down with him and tell him what’s going on. Same as you did with me.”

“It’s different with you.”

“It’s not that different.”

“It’s not your baby I’m aborting,” Jyn says quietly. “And you love me.”

Bodhi looks over at her then, some strange mix of emotions playing out on his face. She half expects him to object and say something ridiculous like Cassian does love her, and the very idea stresses her out. When he doesn’t say that, though, she finds herself oddly disappointed.

“Cassian’s a good guy. He’ll understand,” he says, instead, as if she doesn’t know that somehow. As if that isn’t a huge part of why this situation sucks so bad. As if she isn’t mortified that she has to involve him in something like this. As if she isn’t furious with herself because this is going to blow any chance she ever had with him in the first place. As if she hadn’t already done that by hooking up with him and then never calling him afterwards.

“I know,” Jyn says, looking down at her hands. She doesn’t actually know that—that he’ll understand. She thinks she knows Cassian fairly well, in a casual way. They’re mostly friends through Bodhi but they see a lot of each other. She suspects, from things he’s said before about politics, that he’s probably okay with abortion in a general sense, but it’s different when it’s your potential kid. She can’t actually be certain he’ll be cool with it, but she’s also not asking his permission. She just thinks he deserves to know. Or maybe she just wants an excuse to call him, for all this is the worst possible one the universe could have handed her.

“It’s just weird,” she adds, after a minute lost in thought, “for this to be the thing I call him about, after we hooked up. It feels shitty.”

“Wait, hold on,” Bodhi says, waving his hand dramatically at her. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I don’t know what you think I’m saying.”

“Have you not talked to him since you slept with him?”

“I haven’t,” Jyn says, bracing herself. Bodhi opens his mouth to interject, so she continues quickly, stopping him. “But, in my defense, it was right before the holidays and then he was out of town for like a month, so it seemed weird to reach out, and—”

“Jyn,” he says, and his tone is so full of reproach, it shuts her up immediately. “None of those are good reasons and I think you know that.”

“It’s not like he and I talk a lot anyway,” she objects, but it’s futile, if Bodhi’s unimpressed look is any indication. “We mostly see each other at the shows and the band didn’t have any in December, so I just haven’t had the chance. That’s all.”

“Okay, so none of it had to do with your overwhelming fear of intimacy and vulnerability?”

“No…?”

“Very convincing,” Bodhi says, and Jyn shoves him.

“Shut up,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, if that’s not what happened,” he says reasonably, “you have to tell me what did.”

“What—you want details?!”

Bodhi shrugs. “You hooked up with my roommate and didn’t tell anyone about it for almost two months. There must be a reason.”

“Maybe it was bad,” she says, petulantly.

He just gives her an arch look in reply, which she deserves. “Was it bad?” He asks, bored.

Jyn bites her lip, hard. “No,” she admits. “It actually really wasn’t.”

“Well, then. Spill!”

She sighs dramatically—more dramatically than the situation deserves, honestly, and it’s already a pretty dramatic situation. “What do you want to know?

“When did this happen?”

“By my doctor’s estimate, eight weeks ago.”

“Jyn, for the love of—!”

“I was just trying to lighten the mood,” she says, for all she was actually just trying to stall. “It was that night we played at that terrible hipster bar in November.”

“Jyn, we exclusively play at terrible hipster bars. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“It’s the one with the arcade games in the back? It’s changed names like three times this year?”

“ Oh , that place. Yeah. What is that place’s name?”

“No clue,” Jyn says, with a shrug. “But it was at that bar.”

Bodhi’s eyes widen, though whether it’s with shock or delight or both, she’s not sure. “You hooked up with him at the bar ?”

“No, no. We went home together afterwards, once the rest of you had left.”

“I knew it,” he practically shouts. “I knew something was up that night!”

“You did not!”

“Yes, I did. You can ask Taidu, I definitely said something about it to him.”

Jyn waves him off, not because she’s convinced but because she’s not going to bother Taidu about something this stupid. “Whatever.”

“You still haven’t told me how it happened.”

“Do you need me to explain how sex works? Because I feel like you get the general idea.”

“No, smartass,” he says with an eye roll. “I mean, you and Cassian hang out at bars all the time together and you’ve never hooked up before. So, what happened this time?”

“Well,” Jyn says, taking a steadying breath, “you and Taidu left early for some reason and you said you were going to stay at his place. And Baze and Chirrut left right after that, because I think that’s when Baze had that terrible cold.”

“Jyn, no offense, but who cares?”

“You asked me what was different about that night! I’m explaining!”

“Okay, fine,” Bodhi allows. “It was different because we all callously abandoned you.”

“Yes, thank you! Anyway, it was just me and Cassian at the bar and I had just ordered another drink when Baze and Chirrut decided to leave and I was giving them a hard time about it and Cassian offered to stay with me for another round, so I wouldn’t have wasted my money or have to drink alone.”

“How gallant of him.”

“No editorializing,” she snaps, and Bodhi dutifully mimes locking his mouth and throwing away the key. “Anyway, we had a couple more drinks, we had sex, and now I’m pregnant. The end.”

“Fine,” he says, giving up. “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. I was just interested because you’re both my friends and I love you. Also, I know how hard the break-up was on you, so I was excited that you felt comfortable enough to move on. But you clearly don’t want to talk about it, so forget it!” He pivots away from her on the couch and leans forward to grab some popcorn. “What movie are we watching, anyway?”

Jyn groans in frustration. He’s always been way too good at guilt-tripping her into anything she doesn’t want to do. “You’re such a brat!”

“What? I’m changing the subject, like you clearly want to!”

“I’m embarrassed, Bodhi!”

“I don’t see why,” he says, looking at her blankly. “Cassian is good looking and he’s not a creep. You could do way worse. You have, in fact.”

She punches him in the shoulder in retaliation. “Hey!”

“What? I mean, you dated Reece for two years and he wasn’t exactly a catch. Cassian is an improvement, in my opinion.”

“I see we’re not sparing my feelings anymore where Reece is concerned.”

Bodhi covers her hand with his own. “Jyn, that guy cheated on you for a long time, and then he broke up with you so he could be with the other woman—right before you went onstage to perform, I should mention—and he had the audacity to blame you for the cheating because you ‘didn’t give him enough attention,’” he says, with the most judgemental use of air quotes she’s ever seen. “I care about your feelings, truly I do. But I do not care about Reece and I will not pretend you aren’t way better off without him.”

“I’m not his biggest fan either,” she says, defensively. “But what does it say about me that I dated him for all that time without realizing what a dick he was?”

“That he was an even bigger scrub than we thought, because he managed to hide his true colors for so long,” Bodhi says, easily. “You’re not responsible for his actions.”

Jyn wants to believe him, and most days she already, mostly does. But sometimes she catches herself replaying the break-up in her head and the part where Reece said that if she’d really cared, if she’d really been in their relationship for the long haul, she’d have paid more attention to him and he would never have even thought about cheating. She’d left him no choice, with all her weird part-time jobs and her crazy schedule and her gigs with her silly little band all over the city in the middle of the night. If she were more together, if she knew what she wanted from her own life, she could have been there for her partner, but she was too much of a mess. Too much of a work-in-progress to be the sort of girlfriend someone wanted to be serious with.

“I know,” she says, half-heartedly. If Bodhi’s told her this once, he’s told her a thousand times. Maybe she’ll really believe it someday, but not quite yet. “It just gets in your head, when someone treats you like that. You start to wonder if you have a neon sign over your head that says you’re not really relationship material.”

“You do not have a neon sign over your head that says anything of the kind,” Bodhi reassures her, surprisingly earnestly. “If your relationship with Reece needed work, he could have brought those issues to you to resolve them. Instead, he cheated on you. He took the easy way out and then blamed you when it made him look like an asshole. That’s on him.”

Jyn sighs, hating how often she and Bodhi have to have this conversation or some variation of it. She wishes she could just magically not be upset about it anymore, but it’s not like she didn’t have trust issues before this. The situation with Reece just made them worse. That was part of the appeal of hooking up with Cassian; she wanted to get back out there and feel desirable again, but she couldn’t do it with just anybody. Cassian was safe because she knew him and trusted him, but they weren’t super close, so it’s not like hooking up with him would ruin their friendship. He knew enough of what happened with her breakup to know that it was just a rebound, but not enough about her mental state to worry about her when she initiated things between them. She didn’t need someone to worry about her; she just needed someone to take her home.

The bar had been surprisingly busy that night, probably because some local favorite band was on after their set and they had a weirdly devoted following. Even though the rest of their group had abandoned them, the spots around Jyn and Cassian at the bar quickly filled in with noisy patrons, which left them no choice but to lean close to each other when they talked. Cassian’s arm had been curled around the back of the barstool that she was perched on, not possessively but in a way that didn’t encourage anyone to interrupt them. Jyn didn’t object; she didn’t want to talk to anyone else anyway.

Something about having Cassian’s full attention, her elbow brushing his ribs anytime she reached for her drink and feeling the warmth radiating off him in the already overly warm bar, felt nice in a way that went right to her head. She was shamelessly leaning into it, both literally—if she had curled any further into him, she would be hugging him—and figuratively—asking him personal questions she’d never bothered with before and laughing a little too loudly at his answers in a way that would have probably made him suspicious if she hadn’t distracted him by constantly touching his arm. It was the oldest trick in the book, and he must have known that, but Jyn wasn’t really in the mood to be subtle anyway.

If he was wary of her motives in flirting with him so obviously, he hadn’t mentioned any of his concerns to her. Cassian tends to be wary as a rule, which is part of why Jyn trusts him. He’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop too, just like she is. There’s a subtle understanding between them as a result. Other than that, Jyn had never given him much thought. Sure, he’s good looking, even when he comes to their gigs still in his clothes from the office, which make him look like an accountant. He’s not actually an accountant, though; he works at some organization that works with kids in the foster system, which is the sort of job that immediately put Jyn on edge when she first heard about it after he’d moved in with Bodhi. She’s technically a freelance illustrator, but since that doesn’t pay the bills with any consistency, she also works all sorts of other odd jobs to make up the difference. She doesn’t have a 401K or a high yield savings account, but she’s pretty sure Cassian does, even if he’s also probably underpaid. But he’s underpaid in the good way, the what-a-Saint way, while Jyn is underpaid in the no-one-values-your-skills, get-a-real-job way. So, at first, she’d been a little suspicious of him.

But, back then, he was Bodhi’s new roommate who also took him up on the invitation to come see his band play during one of their glamorous midnight slots at some crummy dive bar, which earned him a little respect in Jyn’s mind. When he kept showing up, she was surprised. It didn’t seem like his scene at all, but when she said as much to him one night, he’d given her a self-conscious smile and said that coming to Bodhi’s shows gave him the pretense of a social life when his co-workers asked what he did with his free time. He had a tendency to look worried or miserable when left to his own devices, but self-deprecation was a good look on him and it was nice to know he wasn’t dead serious all the time. They never became close friends after that, but Jyn always liked talking to him after the shows.

Something changed when she was going through the break-up, though. Cassian knew what happened, of course, enough to tell her he was sorry to hear about it from Bodhi, but they didn’t exactly talk in depth about it or anything. He treated her the same as he always had. The change had come from her, honestly. She’d always thought he was attractive, in that split-second way you decide when you first see someone, but she’d never given it any thought beyond that, really. But once the initial fog of I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening lifted after the break-up, she started to notice Cassian more and think about him in a way she hadn’t before. She was disappointed if he couldn’t make it to one of their gigs. She started to appreciate the dorky work outfits he wore to the dive bar venues they played and she liked talking to him after the set, when he’d give her his full attention like she was the most fascinating person in the world.

She couldn’t tell, though, if he was genuinely interested in her or if he just thought she was hot and (now) single. If she’d been smart, she would have figured that out before hooking up with him. Instead, the universe handed her the perfect opportunity to be alone with him, without any of their friends to talk them out of it or ruin the mood and she’d taken full advantage of it. She had felt almost dizzy with the possibility of it, that she could ask him to leave with her and that he’d probably say yes. Next to her, some drunk guy stumbled up to the bar and, in his haste, accidentally and rather fortuitously shoved her even further into Cassian’s arms. He’d tightened his hold on her to catch her fall and when she’d looked up, he was glaring at the man, who was completely oblivious to having made an enemy. It was ridiculously charming, to think he was offended on her behalf, as if her honor had been threatened. Really, what was she supposed to do then, except kiss him?

He’d been surprised, at first, and who could blame him? Sure, she’d been giving the corniest, most textbook signals that she was into him all night, but she hadn’t even known she was going to actually make a move until she did it. He recovered quickly, though, which was nice, and reciprocated immediately. Jyn’s not sure what she would have done if he’d asked questions or tried to talk things through first, even though she kind of expected it from him. They’d both had a few drinks, not enough to impair them by any means but just enough to embolden them.

His hand had come to rest on her back when she got pushed into him and she felt it flex, as if he was trying to hold her even closer. The other moved to her face as soon as she kissed him, though it was really just his thumb grazing her jaw, like he was worried she might turn away and he wanted to offer a slight incentive to stay where she was. She probably would have kept making out with him at the bar like they were college students or something, but she didn’t actually want to spend another second with the drunk patrons or the shitty band that was onstage. She wanted to be someplace else—anywhere else, really, so long as it meant she and Cassian could be alone. She pulled back, with great effort, and the look on Cassian’s face made her think he expected to be let down easy.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked, instead.

His eyebrows went up, as if that was the last thing he expected her to say. He closed his eyes, like gathering his thoughts was difficult at that moment. “I, uh—what are you asking?”

Jyn bit her lip, which was a bad habit of hers when she was nervous, but if it also happened, by pure luck, to look flirtatious, that was fine too. “I’m asking if you want to go back to your place and have sex with me,” she said, because she wasn’t about to waste time and not get exactly what she wanted out of this.

“Do I want that?” He’d asked, dumbfounded, and if she hadn’t just been having a completely normal conversation with him, she’d have worried he was drunker than she thought. But this was entirely her effect on him and it was incredibly flattering. “Do you?”

“I think the fact that I suggested it makes it pretty obvious what I want.”

Cassian had run his hand through his hair, clearly a nervous tic. “Yeah, but—yes, I would like that.”

He said the last bit decisively, as though he realized he might be accidentally talking her out of it with his hesitation. He needn’t have worried—Jyn has her mind made up about this—but she thought it was better to keep him on his toes than reveal that. She gave him a bright smile before turning to get the bartender’s attention. They paid their tab and got the hell out of there in record time.

When they left the bar, it was raining lightly, barely a drizzle at this point, but there was evidence that it had stormed earlier in the evening. The small heel on Jyn’s boots brought her close enough to Cassian’s height that, even standing outside the bar, she didn’t have to strain to reach him and pull him down for another kiss. His hands came to her hips to steady her anyway and she’d have happily continued like this for a while if the bouncers by the front door didn’t wolf whistle at them and ruin the moment.

They started walking to Cassian’s apartment without discussing it, like they agreed via telepathy that no cab driver would tolerate them given their current amount of PDA. It wasn’t a far walk, though, and Jyn had internally thanked the forces of the universe for making this happen at the closest bar to Cassian’s place, because she’s sure they would have lost their nerve over the course of a lengthy subway or cab ride. Instead, they headed for his apartment in silence, more because they were focused than not having anything to say. He held her hand the whole way, as if he was afraid she’d disappear if he wasn’t touching her. While they waited for a crosswalk signal at one corner, he pulled her into his side and kissed her again, like she really needed the reminder that he was a good kisser. How could she forget?

“He’s a really good kisser,” she says, suddenly, to Bodhi, as they sit together on the couch.

Bodhi scrunches up his nose, looking disgusted. “Who? Reece?”

“No! I’m talking about Cassian!”

“Oh!” His eyes light up. “I thought you didn’t want to.”

Jyn shrugs, noncommittal. She wants Bodhi’s reassurance that she didn’t fuck things up beyond repair and this is probably the only way to get that. “I’m obviously not going to tell you everything . But we can talk about it, a little. I guess.”

“Okay, but how good is he?”

“Is there an accepted scale I should use?”

“One to ten would suffice, I think. Ten being the best kiss you’ve ever had and one being…well, you already said it was good, so we don’t need to worry about that.”

She exhales noisily, not sure how to describe it. “I don’t know. I can’t even think of the best kiss I ever had.”

“That’s kind of sad.”

She punches him on the shoulder. “I hate you,” she says, petulantly. “It was really, really good. Definitely an 8.5 or a 9. Maybe a 9.5.”

“Really?!”

Jyn nods, feeling awkward. “Yeah. We made out for a really long time before we…well, before anything else happened.”

She doesn’t mention that she’d almost lost her nerve, when they first got back to Cassian’s apartment. Being in his bedroom, the idea of sleeping together suddenly became real and all of her tipsy confidence evaporated. She’d been in a relationship for two years—she’d thought she and Reece would move in together whenever their leases were up, even though she hadn’t had the confidence to bring it up to him before he turned around and left her for another woman—and suddenly she wasn’t ready to be with someone else. Naturally, Cassian had picked up on her change in mood and asked her what was wrong. She lied and said it was nothing, though he hadn’t looked convinced. To prove her point, she’d kissed him again, hard, trying to psych herself up, but he’d eased back, turning their kiss into something easier and softer. He’d kissed her like that for a while, his hands in her hair and on her jaw, not reaching for her clothes or straying anywhere new. It was only after they’d continued like that for a long time that Jyn felt her nerves mellow into pleasure and then sharpen into desire again. Even though they’d kept things fairly chaste, all of that kissing had made her want more, and she clearly had to be the one to take the lead.

“And was he a gentleman with you?” Bodhi asks primly, interrupting Jyn’s thoughts.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” she says, with a frown.

“Did he…how do I put this…take care of your needs?”

“Oh. Uh, yes.”

“First?” He asks, clearly enjoying himself.

“Yes,” Jyn replies, through gritted teeth. She leaves out the fact that she’d not-so-subtly rushed them past the point of foreplay so Cassian wouldn’t get any ideas. Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, that he would have even tried something like that with her, that she got in the way of some grand plan of his to gallantly fulfill her needs before worrying about his own, but he had looked surprised when she took them straight from kissing to taking his clothes off to fucking him. Maybe it was a pleasant surprise, maybe he was relieved to find someone who didn’t expect so much effort from him. She didn’t ask. She just knew that she couldn’t handle the idea of it being unequal, of him being smug or, worse, expectant with her. She didn’t want to owe him anything, so they were going to have sex once and then she could move on. Naturally, she hadn’t counted on getting pregnant.

“I told him I was on the pill and I wasn’t,” she blurts out before she can stop herself.

The way Bodhi swings around to stare at her would be funny, under any other circumstances. “Why would you lie about that?” He asks, unable to keep the judgement out of his tone.

“I didn’t lie ,” she says. “I thought I was on the pill! I’ve been taking it for years, so I didn’t think anything of it. I forgot to get my prescription refilled a few months ago and I was like, ‘who cares?’ because Reece and I had just broken up and I was convinced I was never going to have sex again.”

“But then you had sex with Cassian!”

“I know! And I forgot I wasn’t on the pill anymore.”

Bodhi covers his eyes with his hands. “Please tell me you used a condom.”

“Cassian definitely offered,” she says, trying to sound upbeat.

“And you said, ‘yes, of course, because you’re a man I’ve never slept with before and that’s the safest way for us to have sex!’”

“No. I said, ‘it’s fine, don’t worry about it, I’m on the pill.’”

“Jyn!”

“Before you yell at me, I would like to remind you I’m already pregnant, so the worst case scenario has already happened.”

“That’s not the only reason you should use a condom!”

“I know, but I got tested for STDs when I went in for my pregnancy test and nothing has come back positive yet, so hopefully I’m not that unlucky.”

“Listen, I know you’re going through some stuff right now and I don’t want to pile on, but that was really risky,” he says, looking more serious than she’s ever seen him. “You have to promise me that you’ll be more careful.”

“I promise,” she says, feeling like a teenager being chastised. “Believe me, paying out of pocket for an abortion is a pretty great way for me to learn my lesson.”

“God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s my fault. Like you said, I wasn’t being careful.”

“That wasn’t—I’m not trying to hit your nose with a rolled up newspaper, Jyn. I’m just worried about you.”

“I know. This is why I was embarrassed. I made a complete idiot out of myself. And now I get to explain all of this to Cassian, which won’t be humiliating at all.”

“He’ll understand,” Bodhi says, with enviable levels of confidence. “He’s good like that.”

“I said I’d call him and I didn’t,” she says, trying not to cringe as she remembers how quickly she’d left after they’d had sex, how she hadn’t even looked Cassian in the eye when she promised to call. “Even if he was fine with a one-night stand, I still lied to him. I doubt he’ll be happy to hear from me, especially under the circumstances.”

“If the alternative is not hearing from you at all, I think he’d rather hear from you. No matter what the circumstances are.”

“I don’t know.”

“Jyn, you and Cassian are friends, even if you don’t think you’re particularly close. And you’ve slept together, which involves a certain level of intimacy—”

“Not the way I do it,” she jokes. Although there’s some truth to it, she thinks.

Bodhi smacks her with a pillow, which she completely deserves. “Call him or I’ll kick your ass.”

“God, fine!” She slouches down in her seat on the couch. “Do I have to do it right now?”

“God, no. I don’t want to be here for that conversation,” he says, grabbing another handful of popcorn. “Besides, you promised me a movie night. What are we watching?”

“I don’t care, as long as it doesn’t involve babies or pregnancy.”

Bodhi’s scrolling through the titles on Netflix as she speaks, nodding absentmindedly. “‘Sleepless in Seattle’?” He asks, when he lands on it.

“That totally has a baby in it!”

“The kid is, like, eight,” he argues. “And it’s not about the process of having kids!”

Jyn sighs, defeated. “Do you want to watch ‘Sleepless in Seattle,’ Bodhi?”

“Yes, but I’m mostly in it for Bill Pullman.”

“Fine,” she says, settling in next to him. “I’m probably going to fall asleep in twenty minutes, anyway.”

“That’s the spirit,” Bodhi says, and hits play.

[angrycowboy]

Okay, time for coffee and rewatch!

I did a rewatch last night after watching it live and flailed at @haloud​, because this episode was everything I wanted for the premiere and getting the show back. It made me hurt and it made me happy and it made me excited for all the things to come.

After I’m done with this, it’s off to find a decent download and start giffing!

- I love the little Echo flashback. I mean, I think it’s interesting to include Max mentioning the Alighting and the whole “savior” thing. Though, I wonder if it’s going to come into play more than just the mentions in this episode that allowed Liz to connect the dots about Max. But I am heart eyes at this cute Echo moment.

- Liz’s “you smell like rain” comment is also interesting. I am just gonna sit here and think about Maria’s comment about Michael smelling like a river now and what is up with these aliens.

-Jeez, Liz and Rosa. Oh my god, Rosa. And Liz, with tears on her face, needing to switch into crisis mode. 

- Graffitti! Omg Rosa’s artwork. “We don’t believe in humans” Omg I love it.

-This is an Arturo Ortecho appreciation blog. He’s adorable being so proud of Liz. I just smile at this scene so hard. It’s perfect.

- “I reject good-bye” I love Maria DeLuca, y’all. 

- So in my happy place headcanon, Michael did just get some sort of flash about Max’s death, left the Pony, and basically has been avoiding Maria ever since. Simplest explanation and I can live with it. 

- BUT as always, my biggest gripe with the show, it’s been two weeks and no one has talked to one another. Though I kinda understand Liz avoiding everyone while she’s trying to deal with Rosa. 

-”Came to vent about Michael Guerin ghosting me” Yeah, I mean, I’m glad that the show established this right off the bat. Especially after this fucking hellatus this fandom decided to go through in regards to Miluca. I’m actually happy about this. But see ya’ll? Fucking overreaction central.

- “And now just one more Roswell good time before I hit the road.” The delivery on this, and the look on Liz’s face. Fuck, Jeanine just nailed every scene in this episode.

- Michael Guerin, Resident PigPen and Disaster Bi, stumbling int the church and shoving his way into a filled pew. Oh, Michael, you are a mess and I love you so much.

- Oh, Isobel. Also, I love the overacting in the beginning when Isobel is trying to talk about Noah vs how she changes when she starts speaking about Max instead. I love that use of Noah’s funeral to publicly mourn Max. It’s so good. 

- Fuck, this flashback to the cave. To Isobel seeing Max dead. OUCH.

- Oh my god, the staple of every funeral and wake - people bringing way too much food and it’s all the same fucking thing. ISOBEL GIRL, I FEEL YOU.

- “Mrs. Evans! That’s a phenomenal cape.” Listen y’all, have I mentioned how much I love this sad disaster alien cowboy? Cuz I do. A lot. He is a MESS.

- I really love this shot of Alex watching Michael at the wake. Just that little bit of concern - it’s so Alex and I love him so much. And I operate under the “if Alex knows, Kyle knows” and vice versa, which means that Alex isn’t watching Michael like this because he knows Michael is spiraling because of Caulfield and Max, he thinks Michael is only spiraling because of Caulfield. 

- Kyle being all practical and realistic about dealing with Jesse, and Alex is just like YOLO LET HIM DIE. Like I kinda love how Alex just kinda doesn’t want to deal with Jesse.

- “I’m not a murderer.” “No, you’re not. But he is.” Also, are we gonna talk about Alex’s little eyebrow raise and the look in his eyes, and how he’s still possibily talking about himself? Cuz, oh my god. I have feelings. Alex Manes, you stubborn bastard, I love you so much. (cc: @ober-affen-geil)

- “Seemed like a kiss at least worthy of a text back.” Oh Maria, my darling. You keep holding onto the hope you have for him, because girl, you are gonna need it with this massive spiral of his. 

- “Regulars shouldn’t drink alone when they’re grieving.” Oof. The fact that Maria thinks Michael is acting like this because of Noah is dead kinda yikes, and really just makes me desperately want her in on everything else that is going on, because it just makes it so obvious how little she knows. But I also like that line because he comforted her in 1x07, no questions asked, and in a way she’s doing the same back for him. She’s telling him she’s there if he needs someone.

- SHERIFF VALENTI WITH HER HAIR DOWN. I LOVE IT.

- Also her and Ann. “Graffiti is an early indicator of gang violence.” Ann Evans is the epitome of suburban white mom. I love Michelle Valenti just nodding along, like yeah, I’ll get right on that and not looking into this suspicious shit surrounding your son and your son-in-law.

- Lol @ this little public display of anger between Liz and Isobel.

- Oh shit, the fact that Liz hasn’t told Rosa about the cover-up is interesting, because that means that’s definitely coming. And oh my god, I cannot wait. 

- ALSO I CANNOT BELIEVE WE WERE ROBBED OF THIS HUG.

- “a glowing ooze filled egg coffin from outer space” Listen, if that’s not the most accurate outsider description of the pods ever. (Also creepy Noah scenes are creepy.)

- Liz talking about burying Max, y’all that shit HURTS. Like, obviously we know that isn’t gonna happen but the fact that Liz and Rosa are sitting talking about it as a finite ending in that moment is just... OUCH.

- “...where’s my hole t-shirt?” um... as of 1x04 it was in the backpack that Fredrico returned! What’cha doing with it, Liz?

- God, Liz and Rosa is just so perfect. “I never thought we’d get to have this stupid fight again.” I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

- Isobel, darling. What are those pajamas. They’re wild.

- “I meant to call - I heard you and Evans broke up” So that does establish that Kyle was too preoccupied dealing with Jesse, and Liz has been singularly focused on Rosa that they haven’t talked in the two weeks. Cool cool cool.

- “Lemme guess? Alien thing?” Kyle is so tired of this shit.

- Omg Maria beating people at pool. I love it. I love her. More of that please! Also this outfit she wears is super cute. FIGHT ME.

- Mimi and more alien movie references!

- “It’s been ten years since [Rosa] died.” “Not always.” I love love love the roundabout ways Mimi is telling the truth about the things she knows. When you don’t have all the facts, of course it would sound like she’s not making sense, and of course it would appear to present as dementia. But what does she know that she’s even talking in this kinda code at all? And why? And what’s up with the wandering?

- This scene with Kyle and Rosa is fabulous. “Ten years and my half-brother is still pining for my sister. Cool cool cool.”

- Hahaha “What’s your drug of choice?” “Why quarterback, you wanna party?” I LOVE THIS ENTIRE SCENE SO MUCH IT’S HILARIOUS AND FANTASTIC.

- Upon rewatching, it’s much more obvious about the hows and whys of Kyle not knowing Max was dead. Because I missed all of that the first time around, and thought it came out of left field, but it really actually doesn’t.

- Rosa is clearly like, “when the hell did Kyle fucking Valenti get so smart?”

- this continued implication that Alex shows up at the Airstream and just basically invites himself in will never not completely fuck me up about them

- A FUCKING GUITAR LIKE HOW DARE THIS SHOW

- Okay first off, where the fuck is Alex? Is this his new house? Why does Michael know where to find him? Is this Jesse’s house and Alex is housesitting while he’s in a coma? It’s also the same place as this shot Carina posted over the summer that we all died over. Can’t wait to maybe get an definite answer to that (and also, what happened to the cabin). Just the fact that Michael knows exactly where to find Alex when all through S1 Alex always came to the Airstream is again, more shit about them that just fucks me up.

- Michael mentioning Alex had said he was getting out of the Air Force to make music... um, question. Where? When? I am going to handwave this because I can handle it may have gotten cut, and Alex did talk about fighting his own battles and not his fathers in 1x13. And I can see them having talked a bit about it during their junkyard talk in 1x10 too.

- “came back the next morning after clearer heads had prevailed - wanted to show you something.” Okay, Alex, honey, We need to talk about this. Michael just saw and felt his mother die, giving him a folder with that information, with that photo, is not how you should be going about this. I get it - Alex operates on having as much information as possible. If it exists, he wants it to make the informed decision. But that’s not Michael. And Alex pushes just a bit too hard, and Michael snaps. And I love this scene because Michael says things that needed to be said between them. Michael needed to say them, and Alex needed to hear them.

-ugh that photo... but if there’s prop consistency, then it’s interesting that it took a year after the crash for Michael’s mom to end up a prisoner at Caulfield. It really makes me excited for the flashbacks, because if she wasn’t caught in the initial melee after the crash, how did it happen?

- Alex’s little “hey” when MIchael pushes the folder back into him. Just. Fuck me up, okay? I’ll be here, in the middle of the floor, sobbing. It’s just, it makes it so obvious they’re no where near being on the same page. And Alex’s asking if he left, and if Michael would come with him - it really reads like a hail mary attempt on his part. Because he’s still thinking in that moment, that Michael will say yes, like Michael always says yes. Alex doesn’t really know what it’s like for Michael to say “no” to him.

- “I wanna be good for somebody.” (and with the fucking Malex theme playing over them what the fuuuuuuuck) 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

- Hahaha Isobel using the good crystal to practice - THAT’S MY GIRL

- Handprint talk! Also lol @ Liz mentioning the handprint Max gave her in 1x13 during sexytimes and Kyle, not knowing what she’s talking about immediately just assuming she’s talking about the one from the pilot. Though it’s interesting that neither Liz nor Michael had residual physical handprints show up, but we know Liz was able to still feel Max die in 1x13

- “exorcising demons” Yoooo, I am here for this Isobel. She is determined, and she wants her life back and she is going to take it by force if necessary. Also, that’s a fantastic use for that good crystal.

- But it also breaks my heart a bit because she clearly is in this huge denial about Max. She really believes that she can bring him back if she tries hard enough, if she focuses and learns. And the way Michael is just... so resigned to this whole thing. His hope is just... gone.

- “Max’s heart was weakened before he decided to lasso lightning” Michael really does get some great lines. But omg he’s so angry, and he’s so determined to get Isobel to see reason.

- Ahhh Liz and Rosa. Also, Liz in the bathroom. Breaking down because she’s got that moment to herself to finally break. That scene in the shower. It always just fucks me up. It’s fucked me up since the first time I saw it at NYCC, and it still fucks me up now.

- These nightmares are creepy as fuck. 

- ‘Don’t treat me like the little sister.” OH SNAP, LIZ ORTECHO.

- I adore messy flirty disaster Michael. And smiling through a punch? Oh, Michael.

- The way Liz’s mind works, just bouncing and making those connections and conclusions and realizing how there might still be hope for Max. Woo boy, I need to take some time to process that (and don’t get me started on Michael’s loss of hope).

- “So she wants to use Noah’s heart? He’s the actual devil.” TOO RIGHT YOU ARE, ALEX.

- Also, this is @el-gilliath‘s fault but Alex brings up that when cremated, the aliens give off toxic fumes - so what does that mean for Caulfield? All those aliens would have been burned alive someone somewhere would have noticed then, right?

 - Alex is so soft looking in this scene. 

- Which is hilarious cuz the next scene is him throwing the morgue doctor agains the wall.

- “I thought he was you.” Oh boy. Let’s not even begin to unpack that.

- Aaaaah this scene. Okay first off, fuck Flint. I hate him. “There’s a chain of command in this family.” Oooooh boy, so we’re gonna see that this season, right? Cuz I am so curious about the other two brothers and their involvement as well.

- “there’s a sealed incinerator at area 51, can’t exactly storm the place” I’VE GOT NEWS FOR YOU, ALEX. But it’s nice to see confirmation that Liz knows that Alex knows about everything too. Woo hoo, communication!

- “Flint was the Manes in my grade. He was always such a dick.” YESSSSSSSS.

- Michael’s speech about hope. Shit. He is just. “Hope screws people up. Hoping that your family will come and save you from the system. Hoping that anyone can be saved at all.” And poor Maria, she doesn’t know anything. Did she know about how Michael grew up? Because even Alex only knew he was living out of his truck as a rumor, and didn’t know the full extent until the junkyard talk in 1x10. So maybe Michael did have that hope for a moment in 1x13, that he went to the Pony thinking things could be different. But then Max died, and it reminded him that hoping just means more of the same shit.

- Also, Maria. Honey. Taking Michael’s keys doesn’t really mean anything. He’s a mechanic and a telekinetic alien.

- “Need help moving a body.” “If I had a dollar for every time I heard that.” LOL!

- No Kyle, your life is never going to be normal again. Nope.

- “The last thing Isobel needs is to get her hopes up.” Lots and lots of talk of hope this episode.

- “I always thought it was synthetic but if it’s organic” YOU MEAN LIKE HOW LIZ HYPOTHESIZED IN 1x08? Cool cool cool. I also love how their brains work, speaking of that callback. Liz is a biomedical engineer, this is her jam. Michael seems to lean more towards mechanical engineering, especially in 1x08 how he talked about the pods being “tech” and having a seam. But I am super curious about this idea that the alien organs can be fixed in a way, essentially being in line with Liz’s chosen field of study and her career path.

- It’s so cute how Michael gets a bit squeamish before he’s just totally in awe, like he’s probably never really gotten the chance to actually know anything about his own biology, and how it differs from humans - especially not before working with Liz in S1 to develop the serum antidote.

- Liz and Rosa, omg I love them so much. This conflict Liz is dealing with, she’s so happy to have Rosa back, but she’s so angry and so mad and so upset over losing Max at the same time. i LOVE LIZ ORTECHO.

- “I’m gonna fix it” GODDAMNIT Y’ALL LIZ ORTECHO. JUST... LIZ FUCKING ORTECHO.

- I am so looking forward to figuring out what’s up with Mimi and this wandering and why she had Rosa’s bracelet from the roadside memorial.

- Poor Isobel. This is gonna be an interesting story arc to see play out. Knowing what Carina said about it, I am much more interested in letting it play out before making any decisions on it. I’m not crazy about a pregnancy story line, but who knows what Carina has in store with it.

- Zombie!Max I think it’s interesting he says, “you’re the only one I can reach” and how that ties in with Liz’s earlier remarks about the handprints. Why was Rosa the only one to get a handprint? Is it because she was the most recent one Max healed? In the pilot, Max did say, “the mark could show up” so he knew there was a possibility it wouldn’t. But what does that mean? There’s definitely something more there, and I am excited to find out.

[neshabeingchildish]

League of Extraordinary Geniuses || Chapter 1

A/N: I never actually rated this, I don’t believe, but there’s a little bit of cussing here, I can’t tell you yet exactly which direction everything is going in. I’m predominantly an angst writer and I do have a lot to give to this story, mainly with Chase, just because, plain and simple... I don’t know if that man has really had people in his corner the way that he’s needed in the past, so there’s things to work through with him in particular and there’s always things to sort of try to get over and into in relationship dynamics and moreso when more people are involved than two. Also, at least two of these people are workaholics, so work projects, assignments, flashbacks, etc, will be something that is likely to appear a lot as a backdrop. The work won’t always be things that we, or even sometimes they agree with, but it’ll be there. Tagging only who I heard from last time @kiddangers @sunbeameyes @just-a-j-reallly @supercasperprincesslove-blog Let me know if I need to take you off. Edit: Thunderbolt headcanon from flashback was introduced to me by @famousflowermagazine (You don’t have to read, but I wanted to make sure that I credited your idea)

They’re the Same Picture

Charlotte woke up to the hyper sounds of the excited yipping of puppies and she immediately got out of bed and headed for the courtyard. The caretaker was out there, minding them, but when they saw Charlotte, they rushed back to her and she waved to let the caretaker know that the puppies were coming with her. They were light brown with black ears, and wearing matching little malleable outfits. She brought them to her lab and let the caretaker worry about accepting her guests, because she left her phone in the bedroom and she was not going to pick it up any time soon. 

She had one group chat titled Defenders for herself, Henry and Jasper, and it was the most used one in her phone. She had one titled Bionic Forces, for Chase and his siblings, and sometimes Donald. She had been added to that one at one point by Leo, whenever he had to casually ask her a question that she could somehow feel was tied to a catastrophe that he and his older brother, Adam were trying to evade at the Academy (and if she was being honest, one of them probably started), and she didn’t get involved again in that one until after she met Chase and he at’ed her to say that he realized that she had been in this old GC of theirs before. Now, she frequently visited and used it. 

She had one titled Elite Force, one titled T-Force, and one titled Danger Force and she hadn’t thought about how many Force teams had a GC with herself and the members, or even the fact that she knew several Force teams, until those three were active and she kept switching between the 3, one particular day. IF. EVER. There was another triple crisis, she vowed that two androids would have to get onto cloned phones and be her, because trying to sort out more than a dozen names and comments for a foreseeable incident was… a mess. 

Fortunately, Chase, Max, and Mika each took initiative in their respective chats after a while to be the point of contact and unclutter the chat at the time. But still… There were androids capable of evaluating very accurately exactly what Charlotte might think and say to responses.

She had several GCs that were business related, several that were science-for-fun related, one that was the Bionic Academy mentors, one that was everyone that she knew who had bionics, one that was everyone that she knew who was a superhero, one that was her team of androids, and one that was her lab workers. 

She was a busy woman who knew busy people, but she also was the type that liked to be helpful to friends and associates and to keep up with her loved ones and business relationships. So, most of the ones who she had GCs with… They also individually texted with her, as well.

Currently, her most frequent ones were from Henry or Jasper, who truth be told, would likely be texting her frequently for the rest of the three of their lives as lifelong best friends. Almost as frequently though were Chase Davenport and Max Thunderman.

It was a little shocking to her after she met Chase, to find out that they were extremely alike in a lot of ways, considering how differently the conversations she had with each of them went. Chase was always the perfect gentleman. If she mentioned a problem, he would factually assess it, give her stats, numbers, wish her well and ask her to touch base with him later to let him know if his assistance was fruitful. 

Max was less precise, but as correct in advice… he could probably give her stats, but knew that they weren’t usually needed and it wasn’t his default to calculate outside of an invention or something where exact numbers were necessary. Also, he was a little more profane. 

Whereas Chase might say something like, “I’m sorry that they’re making you jump through these hoops at a place of business. That is terrible customer service. Do they not realize who you are?”

Max would say, “Those guys are dicks. Just drop your name and get ‘em fired.” 

Which… was in essence the same response, to her, as their responses frequently were, and yet worlds apart. That was who they were, in her mind too. The same great person presented in two extremely different, but equally attractive ways. She valued them on the same level, though she was closer to Max, because she had known him longer and gone through more with him.

Whenever Max posted his video journal of gadgets and inventions, Charlotte noticed (and this was whenever she was in Dystopia, towards the beginning of the trio’s rise in popularity there), that he had both artwork of Dystress, her alter ego on his wall, and Charlotte Page accolades. News and fanfare!

She honestly lost her shit for a moment and squealed to Henry and Jasper, “This guy that creates gadgets and shares them online KNOWS ABOUT ME!” They had been in the habit of listening to her, but what were the odds of some dude from Hiddenville who posted science projects online for nerdy strangers like Charlotte to wind down, chewing on ice and making comments like, “I didn’t expect that to work out so well. This dude’s a genius!” just knowing about Charlotte, tucked away in one of the most silenced charities in Dystopia?

She pointed out and zoomed in on things on his wall - framed photos of her at gizmo fairs, plaques of her stats in Swellview, etc, and on THE SAME WALL, her with her purple hair and the mask that covered the bottom half of her face, many, MANY shots of her and stories about the mysterious new three Defenders who appeared in Dystopia and began vigilante justice. “That dude knows who you are, Char,” Henry said, worried.

Stressed out, she made a whole account and sent a private message, “So, I saw on your wall that you have the Dystopian Defenders. That’s cool. I like them.”

He almost immediately answered, because he was simply at home, and he was interested in fanboying any chance that he got. “Not so much interested in the Defenders as The Damsel.She’s currently my muse.”

She replied too quickly, “She prefers to be called Dystress.” The she winced and wished she could take it back. How would someone know that? Maybe another hardcore fan? There were a lot of clips of her online...

Well, that had done it. Because, now this complete stranger seemed to be trying to suggest to Max that THEY knew his favorite underground vigilante better than HE did, and before he decimated them, he was curious who he was about to destroy. “Is that something she told you?”

“I’ve heard it around Dystopia...”

He kept up the conversation long enough to trace her IP address and phishing her account. He almost fell out of his chair.“Are you Charlotte Page???”

“WHAT?” She screeched out loud, then typed, “Is that the other Black woman on your wall? You know… People are gonna think that you’re obsessive… or have a fetish... or something unbecoming.”

“I’m a fan. I didn’t mean to alarm you… So… WAIT… You’re Charlotte Page AND you are a Dystress fan AND you’ve seen my series??? This is perfect! This is like a DREAM for me! Or… is this like one of those things where you contact me and tell me that it’s creepy that I have your stuff on my wall? Because, honestly, that’s fair. It’s just… I looked up some of your work and you were super brilliant, but we’d met previously under not so great circumstances, so I didn’t want to be that guy and make it weird, but this is just how I’ve decorated my workspace. I just admire your work, a lot.”

Charlotte had watched --she didn’t know how many of this dude’s invention videos -- Every time she saw his face, a glimmer of a thought that he looked familiar passed through her mind, but his face wasn’t on screen most of the time. The focus would be on his hands and his inventions, so she didn’t notice his face too much. The way that the human brain works, she simply put it out of focus and subconsciously presumed she’d seen his face there, in the videos.

But, now that he said it, she gasped again. Realizing the familiarity, she dropped a phone number. She did NOT want to continue this conversation on the same device he had just hacked, and she had a burner phone on her.

“Hello?” She said. It took him only long enough to pick up his phone and dial while looking at the computer for him to call her.

“Is this real???” He asked. “Are you honestly Charlotte Page?” Before she could even answer, he continued, “I am absolutely freaking out!” 

It was a far cry different from the first time they crossed paths, the time that she had remembered only after he made it known that they had before. When he was a little villain-to-be. She hadn’t gotten a very good look at him, but her eyes had at least passed over his face a little, years before.“What do you want?” She asked, through her teeth. “To expose me?” 

“Expose?” He gasped and lowered his voice, but heightened his excitement, “Are you some kind of criminal mastermind, because I can totally dig that.”

“I’m…” She looked at the muted video where she had been studying his wall and she realized something. There weren’t photos of each, next to each other. There were no lines, or notes or string... He didn’t know that those were the same people. He didn’t know that she was the Damsel of Distress. He really was... just a fan of both of them. Maybe it was subconscious on his part, but she didn’t feel like he was playing mind games or anything. And… he had powers, so exposing her wouldn’t be wise for him or other supers. 

“Charlotte? Are you still there? I’m not gonna expose you, if you were waiting on an answer to that. But, I’ve gotta tell you… I’m a superhero now and if we gotta cross paths while you’re in your criminal phase… I mean… It’ll be AWESOME and like hella fun… but, I’d have to take you down. Duty and all that.”

Now, she laughed. “The Dystopian cops haven’t been able to, but give it your best shot.” There was a long pause and then a longer gasp, then the exhaling and declaration, “CharlottePageisalsotheDamselandIcan’tbelieveIdidn’tnoticeitbefore!”

“I prefer Dystress. With a “Y,” like Dystopia + Mistress… The Damsel of Distress was supposed to a clever one liner and nothing more. Some overgrown goon caught me about to tamper with supplies that we needed to steal from the criminals to give to the kids in our charity, and he said something like, “Looky here, a damsel in distress,” and…”

“And you, a 4’11 (I can’t believe that I didn’t even place your identical measurements to figure this out), you touched your wrist, hulked up somehow and beat him with his own weapon, then said, “More like a Damsel OF Distress,” and it was caught on security cameras. I HAVE that footage. I’ve gotten probably every piece of footage of you that has been recorded. I am not kidding when I say to you, that I am your biggest fan.”

“You’d think that with that wall you’ve collected,” she said, her wide smile evident in her voice. She knew that the kids in Dystopia stanned Dystress. They would tag her name and image all over the place and whenever in costume, girls and women always gave her stuff, sometimes, what appeared to be their last. She would refuse it and give them whatever she had on her to spare. 

Dogfight was in essence sleepwalking through battle, so even though he could reply to people (in Spanish), they usually didn’t understand it and generally didn’t talk much to him.  

Deflector was just that, on or off the battlefield. Henry had never mastered lying, that much was sure, but found that avoiding questions because he only spoke English, or if they spoke English, simply deflecting the conversation instead of making up something worked better for his mystery and his cover than lying ever did. 

Dystress was the one who spoke with the people. She spoke their language. She spoke to them as people. All of the Defenders were heroes to the Dystopian downtrodden, but Dystress was like a motherly hero. She could be both that ferocious bear whose cubs are threatened but she generally delivered the goods while Dogfight and Deflector fought off the criminals. Her covered face and purple ombre locks were what they saw right before they had meals that weren’t drugged to kidnap them or rotten. The image that they saw whenever they got clean socks, soap and towels...

“What are you thinking about?” Max wondered, his voice now soft, having regained control of himself after this wondrous discovery.

“I’m hoping that my secret really is safe with you and I’m appreciating being noticed by someone who I didn’t have to help save, first.”

He smiled, “Of course your secret is safe with me. I admire everything you do, apparently as you and her. I’d never let myself be a threat to you.” She was smiling on the other end and he knew it, but he also knew that this was a Dystopia line and probably a burner she got from a corner shop. He needed a doorway in. He didn’t want to let her slip through his fingers. “I can probably actually help you, you know? I have a lot of resources, with T-Force. Dystopia is a red level city. Every time the Hero League has assigned someone, they either die, quit, or turn, because the crime is like a hydra. It would only take a mention that the heroes there need supplies for me to get approval to bring some.” There was another long pause and he said, “I wish I could see your face right now.”

“You can see it… As soon as we get some supplies.”

“How do I contact you? I know this is a burner you’re on.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think this is a burner you’re on and I got your number when you called. Thanks in advance… what should I call you?”

“My name is Max.”

“Thank you, Max.”

“My pleasure, Charlotte.” They both smiled and hesitantly hung up their phones. But, Charlotte was looking forward to seeing “her biggest fan” in person… ESPECIALLY if he was using his power to come with supplies. 

After a few weeks, he made good on that. She sent him a list and asked, “Is this asking too much?” He was confused at first, because it was a different phone number, but whenever he saw the list, he knew who it was from and he smiled brightly. “Not at all. I can be there by Friday. Send me coordinates to wear to meet you.”

The Defenders were there. T-Force shook hands with them and commended them on volunteering to take on Dystopia. They unloaded everything onto a trolley and Thunder Man was explaining to Deflector and Dogfight that once everything was out of the transport, his youngest could teleport them to wherever they felt safe to bring it. 

Charlotte realized that they had brought twice the amount she requested when she placed the order, and Max added, “We also took donations up from the Hero League and transferred the total into yen, in case something comes up in between now and next time that you need us.” 

“You’d do this again?” She wondered.

“For you? Are you kidding?” He laughed, but was silenced when she practically leaped up so that she could throw her arms around his neck. Nobody was paying attention, because the rest were working. He was staring into her eyes, because that was all he could see, and it definitely was enough for him to recognize them from footage of her Spelling Bees and stuff, but, he wondered, “Could I see...” he didn’t get a chance to finish the question and she pulled down her mask, stuck her tongue out and smiled. “I’d do this however many times you need,” he finished.

Since then, they’d been gravy. Chase took much longer to warm up to her like that, and even when he had, his gushing in her presence, was generally due to some exciting news, findings, work, etc. He hadn’t gushed over her like that, and Max did not mind doing so, at all. Really, the fact that she was always comparing the two in her mind was how she came up with this idea to… well… to ask them to come on an adventure with her towards saving the world. 

She knew that she could tell Max to do anything and he would say yes and figure out how. Chase would WANT to say yes, but have some questions and need some reasonable answers. He would ultimately say yes, whether or not she was able to provide them, but he would be out of his comfort zone without a fully detailed, full transparency blueprint and trajectory. But, he would say yes no matter what she gave him because, if she knew one thing about both these people, it was that they both trusted, respected, and she hoped, loved her, and they listened to her for these reasons. SO, she would always try to reciprocate it. That was something that she knew that they didn’t always get. Max from knowing him and his family for several years and Chase from mostly Douglass and Leo’s stories. Chase only ever seemed to talk about his attributes and advantages. He never complained about the things that she’d heard about his life. Or maybe, he just didn’t trust her that much yet. 

She opened a GC with the three of them and asked them when they could all meet sometime in the near future. Max was getting ready for a furlough and Chase was finalizing another bionic mission team for field work. She was getting ready to take a hiatus on degree work for the first time in 8 years and get settled into her castle that it took 5 years to have built. For reference, it took longer to build her castle than it did to rebuild Dystopia itself, but of course, one of these things she was paying for and the other had been greenlit by a billionaire.

Eventually, the three found where they could make the meet happen and she could hardly wait to share her ideas with them and also just spend time with both of them, instead of having to always divide herself.

.

Max was visiting, spending his furlough in the castle and Chase was there “on business,” because Mr. Davenport literally never allotted vacations for him, so Charlotte told a half truth about requiring him at her place for a few days for a special project and since they scheduled it after the formation of the most recent bionic field team, Donald approved the request, but reminded him that he would still be on call, if needed.

“Firstly, I need to apologize to you both for the short notice, but whenever I realized that you finally both were free at the same time, I made sure that we could all get together! I’ve… introduced you two before, right?’

Chase raised an eyebrow and studied Max. She had never introduced them, but she talked about Max to him a lot, and pretty fondly from how he recalled. “I’ve never seen this man before in my life,” Chase said. It was partially true. He had not met him face to face or even crossed him in passing. They were once in Dystopia at the same time, but although she planned to introduce them, both had avoided allowing it to happen.

Max said, “That’s your boss’ little kid, right?” Max knew exactly who Chase was. He had read about him, seen his work, talked to Charlotte NUMEROUS times about his ideas, and even was impressed by him, sometimes, But he also knew that there was no way that this dude didn’t know who he was. Therefore, two could play that game. “The one that doesn’t really fight much,” he added for good measure. Chase narrowed his eyes. He fought all of the time, but people often reduced his efforts because he didn’t have feats like the members on his team. He had better feats…

“Chase Davenport!” Charlotte corrected Max and cut him off at the same time, seeing it might turn into a pissing contest if she didn’t rein it in, “Mission Leader of the world’s first bionic mission team, Mentor at the Davenport Bionic Academy, he creates most of the bionic teams that you see on the news during missions!” She proudly announced.

Chase blushed and shuffled his feet bashfully, then said, more confidently, to Max, “I do more than that, actually…”

“Cool,” Max said and made a little sound with his mouth, to which two puppies came trotting into the foyer to him. “Hey, Buddies!” He cheered and began to love talk to the brown puppies with black ears. 

Chase wondered, “Oh, you have pets?”

Max collected both puppies into his arms and stood, “Have you not been invited here, yet?” He asked, meaning for it to sting.

Charlotte interjected, “Chase is usually too tied up in missions for social visits, so this is his first time being able to stop by and his first time seeing them.”

“They’re her kids,” Max said.

Chase cleared his throat and wondered, “I’m sorry, what?”

“These are the Swagger twins,” Charlotte clarified.

Chase let out a sigh of relief, then immediately engaged with the puppies, while Max grimaced, still holding both. “They should be about two years old, shouldn’t they? Why are they puppies and not full grown dogs? Also, why are they dogs?” And both pups became toddlers in Max’s arms, causing Chase to flinch a moment, but he still petted both their heads. 

“They have shapeshifting bionics with identical coding,” Charlotte said. “Jack had very specific speculations for them. He wanted them to be male presenting, have certain traits from himself and certain ones from Cheyenne, and identical bionics that were allotted for them to transform into dogs. They are currently puppies because they’re too young to realize that a two year old dog would be full grown and probably too small to do it, if they knew it.”

“Why does Jack Swagger want his kids to be able to turn into dogs?” Chase asked, very confused.

Max grumbled, “Because celebrities are weird and gross!”

Charlotte laughed and said, “Jack’s fiancee is Max’s former celebrity crush. He’s been moody since the engagement,” she laughed. “I, on the other hand am DELIGHTED that celebrities are weird and gross. Jack has funded all of my private research on genomic architecture JUST so he can both have perfect babies with his future wife AND also have dogs.”

“Whatever happened to good old fashioned going to a third world country and buying a desperate mother’s kid from her because they’re both starving?” Max asked and scoffed.

Chase, ignoring the rhetorical question, asked, “Why do you have his two year olds at your castle?”

Charlotte shook her head and said, “Oh, these boys aren’t going to go to him. He’s not going to actually collect until I get the formula for the perfect sons who shift into the perfect dogs, with the perfect model bionic chips, and I’m going to take that to create the embryos for their surrogate.” She forced a smile and her eye was twitching, but it was extremely lucrative, if not incredibly privileged and highkey eugenics.

“Weird and gross,” Max repeated.

“Well,” Chase ignored Max again, “Where are they going to go?” He wondered, concerned about the Swagger twins. 

Charlotte laughed and said, “Budding Flowers,” like it was obvious.

“That orphanage?” He asked, a little bit horrified.

“It’s really more like a boarding school,” she told him. “And shelter for orphans. People aren’t exactly adopting them.”

“But… these boys are bionic. Aren’t the kids there all… normal?” Chase wondered.

She pointed to him and said, “You are absolutely right! We need a bionics specific orphanage/education center. I propose either in Dystopia or Centium City.”

“Why not on the island?”

“Are you kidding? You think she’s gonna hand her babies over to Davenport after how he raised you?” Max asked. 

“Max!” Charlotte hissed and held her hands out like wtf. Chase was definitely a little bothered. Charlotte tried to explain, “Excuse him for that. Sometimes Dougie complains about The Dom whenever we’re hanging but I don’t know WHY Max would bring any of that up!” She threw Max a look. Max looked unbothered.

Chase squinted, “He… knows my Uncle Douglas?”

“He’s your dad, Dude,” Max said.

“Douglas just TELLS people these things???” Chase said, highly upset, now.

“No. It’s mostly been said in what was supposed to be confidence. With the two of them both being on the board of the Max O. Thunderman Rehabilitation & Reformation Metropolis.”

“I like to call it the Maxtropolis,” Max said, smirking with his mouth and his eyebrows.

“And everyone hates when you do,” she teased. “They’ve got stuff in common.”

“You… wait… Your friend Max is ON the board at that place?”

“It’s literally named after me,” Max said.

“Yes, I realized that, but I thought it was because you were a donor or something. Douglas said that board is composed entirely of villains!” Chase said, now on alert.

“Reformed villains,” Charlotte corrected. “Like Douglas, and like Max.”

Chase ground his teeth and stared at Max. He didn’t fully always trust Douglas, at times. He certainly wasn’t ready to trust this very shifty character, so close to Charlotte AND with a villainous past? He REALLY needed to start paying more attention to others, even those that he was writing off. Now, he would have to research and review everyone that came into contact with Charlotte. How many other dangerous possible traitors did she trust in her midst? Charlotte and Max were staring at him and he realized that the puppies were too. Also, that the kids were puppies again. 

Charlotte offered, “Let’s go settle into the lounge and sit down.” She opened her hand to let Chase see were the lounge was and she caught Max’s hand and whispered as low as she could, “Why are you antagonizing him?”

“I’m not. I just don’t like him.”

“You haven’t even given him a chance!”

“I did whenever I came in and he started it. “I’ve never seen this man before in my life? You and I both know that waif has seen me before.” She covered her forehead with her fingers and lowered her face at the insult. “Furthermore, I don’t like his sanctimonious song and dance, just because he’s the poster boy for heroes, a position that he has only been granted because bionics in the past few years that they’ve been accepted have taken credit for every superhero’s victories and act like they’re doing us a favor by doing small percentages of the work and capitalizing on all of the victories!” He folded his arms and Chase turned around and looked at them. Max glared at him.

Charlotte noted still whispering, “He has super hearing. I think he’s heard us whispering.” 

“I did,” Chase said.

Max shrugged his shoulders, “Where was the lie? Bionics are just non-supes with technology. You’re only special because a madman put technology into you when you were too young to consent.” Charlotte covered her lips with her fingers this time and lowered her face again. 

“You obviously know enough about me to continue to personally attack me because of your perception of my position. If that makes you feel better, do it,” Chase said. What wasn’t about to happen was him losing his cool in front of Charlotte, or worst, inside of Charlotte’s home.

She shook her head, “I thought that the two of you would get along. There’s so much greatness inside of both of you, that I see, I guess I presumed that you would see that in each other. I had no idea that there was some kind of superhero vs bionics bad blood in you two.”

“Seriously? Because, I’ve heard that your friend here is pretty anti superheroes. Besides the members of his team, who he’s been openly negative towards (we talk, Bionic Boy), and the only super that you’ve really fully accepted was your sister, after she siphoned a little from Skylar Storm. You had supers right in front of your face, proof of our existence and you berated them and talked trash on them. At least that’s how Sky would tell it.”

“You… know Skylar too? Technically… she’s not a super. She’s an alien. All of her people are like that.”

“Wow. So not the point,” Charlotte said. “Are you actually anti-supers?”

“No! I may have said some of what he’s gossiping about, but I was younger at the time he’s speaking about, probably not much older than he was when he was aspiring to be a super villain.”

“So, NOW you know who I am?”

“I researched the information while the two of you were whisper arguing!” Chase said.

“You knew who the fuck I was when you walked into this castle, Boy! You, the smartest man in the world, who has been betrayed and bamboozled multiple times didn’t do a background search on someone who was going to be staying in the home of the woman you love and meeting up with you for possible business? I’m not the smartest man, but I’m not a dumbass, either. You absolutely looked into me, just like I’ve been looking into you from the first time she mentioned your name. Maybe you could get a fast one on the simpletons you’re usually surrounded by, but Char and I? We're in the genius leagues.” 

Chase was breathing hard and eyeballing Max, looking a bit menacing and sort of hovering over him. Chase scanned him over and Charlotte stepped between the two of them, into Chase’s line of sight. He seemed to calm down and she was grateful, because he’d looked pissed and she heard that could make things get really ugly. “I heard your response, Chase and it’s valid. You were younger and didn’t subscribe to the value of superheroes. Max was young and didn’t either! Yayyy! Similarities…” She looked at both of them. They both folded their arms and scoffed, then both groaned because they’d had the same reactions. Getting them on the same page might be a hard sell. But, she had a few days. “Let me show you your quarters, and maybe everyone can have a drink and kinda…” her shoulders slumped and she sighed, unsure of what words to use.

Henry and Jasper had been friends when she met them. Douglas and Schwoz hit it off right away. These two… SHOULD have too. But, they were both extremely pissed and she felt like she’d missed something that she should have considered before bringing them together like this. That argument proved that she missed several things. She was so in love with the idea of them being science bros, she didn’t think about Chase’s trust issues and how they might affect his view of Max. She didn’t think about Douglas telling Max things that she didn’t even know about, like Chase having a past with superhero hate, or maybe just a little bigotry, but, still… She was supposed to be smarter than that. She had been judging both of them with her heart for so long… it just seemed natural that anybody else, especially one another, would adore them too.

“Charlotte, are you okay?” They both asked her in unison. She looked up and both of them looked concerned and a little guilty. They were most likely going to at least squash it for tonight, for her benefit. 

“I’m sorry for not doing MY due diligence. I just think, if you two could get past it all, you’d understand why both of you are here with me as I embark on a new chapter. You two were my first choice and it was an equal choice. It wasn’t one over the other, it was… I know that you both bring what I want and need to the table. I want it to be a table of camaraderie.” The men looked at each other with a raised eyebrow and flared nostrils. 

“It’s fine,” they both lied. At least she knew that they’d try.

[crypteddy]

Controversial Thoughts On (thoughts on) TAZ: Amnesty Finale

Hey y’all. I know this is coming out of left field because I post original content approximately never? But here's the thing. I am Heated about this. So sit down and listen for a hot minute, will you? 

The epilogue got a little... controversial, shall we say? And I just want to take a moment to share my very passionate and very heated take on the whole thing.

Of course, TAZ Amnesty finale spoilers below, so don’t read if you haven’t finished the episode yet (or do I’m not your mom but I did warn you).

Y’all already know what this is gonna be about, but I’m gonna say it anyways: Duck and Minerva, dating, as a concept. There are a lot of people who like it. There are a lot of people who really don’t like it. There are a lot of people who are just kinda stuck in the middle along for the ride (hi that’s me).

But Jay, you might say, if you don’t have a strong opinion on it, how are you going to write an entire text post about it.

Welcome To My Essay, Kids. Buckle The Fuck Up Yo.

I think most of us can agree that Duck’s relationship with Minerva came out of left field. When it happened, I kinda had a “what the fuck??” moment, but then Justin gave his lil speech and the boys agreed with it, so I went with it. And then I started thinking. Minerva appeared to Duck when he was 18 years old, right? But we don’t know how old Minerva is. She could be around Duck’s age. But here's the thing: she was appearing to Leo long before that. Therefore, she’s significantly older than Duck is. Red flag, right? Maybe not. She is an alien, after all. We don’t know how ages work on her home planet, how that correlates to aging on Earth. For all we know, relative to their lifespans, they could be at around the same place in their life. Does that make their relationship okay? I’m not going to draw conclusions on that one, because honestly I don’t know. The people who ship them are valid, and the people who are a lil uncomfy about them being shipped are also valid.

I’ve seen someone (maybe a few people? I’m not sure) say that this relationship between Duck and Minerva really made them remember that the show is run by 4 cis, straight, white guys because Justin forced a romantic relationship between Duck and Minerva. Let’s take a hot minute to unpack that, shall we? First off, the show is run by 4 cis, straight, white men. That can mean everything in this day and age, but here in the space of The Adventure Zone, it means NOTHING. In this arc alone, we have a cannon gay pairing with one person being bisexual, a notoriously underrepresented and often incorrectly represented minority, a noon-binary character who didn’t die or face discrimination for who they are and instead absolutely thrived in the atmosphere, people of all different ages and skin colors... The representation in this show is AMAZING y’all, not only for a group of cis heterosexual men. Back to Duck and Minerva, though. I feel like saying that Justing forced a relationship in between Minerva and Duck, especially with the add-on that the show was cis and heterosexual, makes it seem like Duck HAD TO BE GAY. Controversial opinion: no gender or sexuality should ever be forced onto someone by someone else. Straight people should not force gay people to be straight. Reversely, it is JUST AS SHITTY for gay people to force straight people to be gay. Now, Duck’s sexuality was never explicitly talked about. I’m not saying this means that we should’ve assumed straight OR that we should’ve assumed gay. He is a fictional character. All ships are open and good as far as I’m concerned. But at the end of the day, I don’t think it’s cool to say “I hated the epilogue because Duck and Minerva were forced into a relationship that I as a listener did not see.” Justin outlined his thoughts on why it made sense to him. Griffin, the GM, agreed. It was added to the story. The end. Do not pass go. Do not collect $100. It isn’t our story, it’s theirs. In my opinion, you have No Right to be pissed off that Duck and Minerva became a thing. Uncomfy? Not quite into it? Lost entirely? That’s fine my dude go ham. But saying that it ruined the finale is a bit much.

Another thing that I’ve seen is that some people think making Minerva Duck’s girlfriend turned her from a Funky Fun Fresh Cool Fuck U Up Hero to just Heroes Girlfriend. I cannot stress this enough, I WILDLY DISAGREE WITH THIS. First of all, no relationship is gonna strip Minerva of her Funky Fun Freshness, and it’s also not going to strip her of being a warrior. Do I think over time she will become less of a warrior? Yes, absolutely. But not because of her relationship with Duck (this is a totally different and much shorter essay please feel free to DM me if you want to hear about it). The epilogue made it explicitly clear that she was still just as much of a kick-ass warrior. She wouldn’t be making battle plans with Leo and Dr. Sarah Drake if she weren’t. The only people stripping Minerva of her Minerva-ness and turning her solely into Duck’s GirlfriendTM are the fans.

Let’s move on to something else people disliked for a hot minute: the very ending, where the gang got back together again. I’ve seen some salty people say that, although they realize that Amnesty and Balance are wildly different stories, in Balance we got the wedding where everyone was together and happy and it was really cool and fun and that they were salty that didn't happen in Amnesty and that the reunion was only a few minutes long. Here’s the hot take, folks: it was not needed, nor was it required, to wrap the story in a nice little bow. Thacker got his epilogue. Aubrey got her epilogue. Duck, however controversial, got his epilogue. You know who didn’t get an epilogue? Ned Fucking Chicane. He was a major character that we as fans loved and lost, but you have to remember that the characters are well-rounded three-dimensional entities inside of the story of The Adventure Zone. They never got a chance to mourn Ned’s passing. It happened, and they fought a battle, and then the mountain was split, and then the FBI came, and then it was Finale Time Babey. This was the time for them to celebrate and mourn Ned for everything he did for Kepler and everything he did for Sylvain. The reunion was a nice touch, but it was never about the other characters. At the end of the day, that bit was about and will always be about Ned. 

Let me take a second to wrap things up. I may have said some things you agree with. I may have said some things you don’t agree with. That’s fine. But remember a few things: A) The boys are human beings who are not perfect and who never will be perfect. If you think that they made a mistake in the epilogue, that’s your opinion. Don’t let it sully your overall views of Amnesty’s story or of the boys as people, because that would be shitty. B) This is THEIR story that THEY’RE sharing and we’re just listening to it. Headcannon things all you want, but at the end of the day, they have the final say. They have insight into the characters that we will never have. Also, it’s plain and simple just not our story. I mean, to some extent it has been given to us, but it is and will always be Their Story.  C) This is it folks. My final say. To let your whole opinion of the episode or the story or just the epilogue be spoiled by things that happened in the epilogue? I find to be. Ridiculous. The things that happened in the episode happened. Now they’re cannon. That’s it. End of story. Again, you can disagree with them, you can say “I didn’t ship that,” you can be a little uncomfortable with the age gap. But you cannot say “the boys didn’t write a good story and here’s why.” You cannot say “my ship is better and more accurate and here’s why.” Most importantly, you cannot negate all of the other good that the McElroy brothers have done in their podcast because of one relationship that you didn't agree with.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. If you made it to the end I love each and every one of you. I love you even if you didn’t make it to the end of this, but you’ll never know, and that’s on you my dude.

[harryandmolly]

Change of Pace - 1 (October 2003 - 16 years ago)

cowritten by @achinglyshawn

summary: Shawn and Maya meet again 10 years after life got in the way of love

warnings: language, NSFW

wc: 17.5k (we back, y’all)

------------

Shawn has had a crush on Maya Lu ever since she was his tour guide for freshman orientation at the University of Toronto. It’s pathetic, really, that he’s stuck on the first pretty upperclassman to give him a smile. But he can’t help it. He’s addicted to the thought of her, addicted to the daydream of being with her, holding her hand, feeling her lips pressed to his, hearing her dreams late at night when she can’t sleep and needs to talk.

He doesn’t even know her. Not really. Their friendship is mainly confined to MySpace and the occasional nod if he’s lucky enough to pass her on campus. So yeah, it’s pathetic. He’s fucking pathetic.

He decides goes to her art show.

To be fair, it’s not just her show. He’s got a hand full of actual friends presenting their work, so it’s not like he’s a stalker. He’s just lucky. He’ll have an excuse to exchange more than a passing ‘Hi!’

He knows her work will be good because she’s always posting photos of her in progress pieces on Facebook and he loves them. Maybe he’s biased, but he’s always had a fairly artistic eye so he thinks his impression of her talent is pretty accurate.

“You look hot,” Ash comments from his bed as he rolls the sleeves of his crisply ironed button down above his elbows. “Almost hot enough for Maya.”

Shawn rolls his eyes at his best friend in the mirror. He sighs, “I need to look nice. It’s an art show. There’s gonna be hors d’oeurves and fancy cocktails.”

“And Maya.”

“And our other friends,” he grouses, turning to face Ash instead of the mirror. “I’m not going for Maya.”

Ash giggles and falls back onto the bed, holding her sidekick in the air as she starts texting. “Whatever you say, Mendes. Either way, you look hot and she’ll definitely notice you.”

He’s glad she’s too busy clicking at her phone to see the tips of his ears go red.

+

Shawn’s been in the art building before, but it feels like a whole new world at night, the lobby adorned with twinkle lights and cloth-covered tables topped by sprawling bouquets for people to gather around as they discuss the art and munch on canapes.

He’s early, too early maybe, because the crowd is extremely thin and he feels completely exposed. Mostly, the only people here right now are the artists. He’s on high alert for Maya, but he forces himself not to look for her. You don’t really know her, he reminds himself, and instead scans the room for one of his actual friends.

He spots Parker in the corner standing proudly in front of her life size unicorn sculpture, and Shawn makes a beeline for her.

“Is she for sale? I’ve been looking for something to ride to class,” he opens with, grinning down at his friend.

“He is absolutely not for sale. He’s not chattel,” she chides with a smirk, popping up onto her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. He pulls her close, lets himself find comfort in her familiarity for a moment before they separate.

“I would say thanks for coming,” Parker starts as she drops down onto her heels, “but I know you’re only here for Maya Lu.”  

Jesus Christ. Is he really that transparent?

“You’re like, really obvious, baby,” she coos, as if reading his mind. Or maybe she just noticed the flash of panic across his face.

“I’m here for everyone,” he says, trying to ignore fluttering in his gut.

“Her pieces are right over there,” Parker says with a nod towards the wall just behind him, and the hair at the nape of his neck stands on end.

“And you’re right here,” he says, fighting the urge to turn around.

Parker laughs, shakes her head and grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“C’mon, dude. You’ll never get anywhere if you’re scared to even look at her. Let’s go over there together.”

“Parker--”

“Shawn.”

“I’m not-- I was just gonna say hi later, you know, like--”

“Then why not say hi now, with me?”

Shawn opens his mouth. Closes it. Furrows his brows then rolls his eyes. Sighs.

“Fine, fuck. Let’s just-- do I look okay?”

“Hideous.”

“Oh, good. Perfect.”

Parker giggles, tugs his hand and heads for Maya. “C’mon, Mendes, she doesn’t bite. Well, maybe she does. You’ll have to find that out yourself.”

Shawn can’t argue, just flush bright red and stumble after her, his fingers curling into the back of her hand.

Maya stands with her hands on her hips overlooking her paintings on the wall. They’re clustered together in bunches -- the canvases tell different stories individually but when she groups them together like this they look like one painting split up between different canvases. That’s how she’s designed it.

But as she stands here studying them, she finds a million and one things she’d change. She sighs and taps her clunky heel against the ground, shaking her head.

She turns to Sasha, who’s eyeing the passed hors d'oeuvres like they’re a lover. She nudges her.

“This sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up, Maya.”

“No. No I won’t shut up because I suck and I can’t believe you never bothered to tell me.”

Sasha groans a belabored sigh. “God, please, let’s not do this again. We barely made it out of the spring show alive last year.”

He sees Maya before he sees any of her art. Her back is facing the room as she looks up at one of her pieces, and he wonders if she’s happy with the way it turned out. His gaze flicks up to it, but he’s too distracted by his heart pounding in his throat to really process what it looks like.

“Maya!” Parker squeals as they draw closer, “I love all of your pieces so much!”

Shawn fights the overwhelming urge to run away as Maya turns around.  

Maya opens her mouth to argue when she hears Parker refute her before she can say anything. Sasha looks delighted. She elbows her before she can speak up.

“Thank you, Parker. I hate it. But what else is new?”

Parker brought a friend. Not just any friend. Parker brought the Cute Freshman (capitalized because that’s his formal title in Maya’s friend group). Maya feels a little better now. She likes having someone to flirt with at these things, especially when they look at her like that, like she made every piece of art in here and all of it is genius.

“Hi,” she says, tilting her head at him a little dangerously.

Maya Lu speaks to him. Parker doesn’t even have to make introductions.

He thinks he’s gonna die, right here, right now.

Oh god, Cute Freshman is so fucking cute.

He got the nickname by being tall and built and strong-jawed with the best head of hair she’s ever seen on anyone, but he kept the name by being completely adorable.

She loves running into him. He’s always good for a blushing smile or that little flappy wave he does with his big bear paw. Sometimes, when she’s really lucky, he’ll duck his head at her and look up through his eyelashes. He doesn’t even mean to, she can tell. It’s a natural response to being around her.

She loves it.

He sucks in a breath. “Hi,” he says with a crooked smile, then glances at her work hanging on the walls. He realizes, as he looks up at her pieces, that while each work can stand alone, they all fit together to create something truly fucking spectacular. He’s impressed. He knew she was good from Facebook, but this is something else.

“Parker’s right, this is— like, totally incredible.”

He seems to genuinely like what he sees (on the wall, that is), or he’s a really good liar. But she doubts it. He seems too wholesome to lie to her about this.

She glances over her shoulder and shrugs, “Thanks. It’s… it’s fine.”

Sasha snorts into a glass of champagne and shakes her head. Maya chuckles and wrinkles her nose.

He looks back at her, and trains his gaze on her forehead instead of scanning the length of her body, despite his baser urge to do just that.

“I’m Shawn,” he manages, sticking his hand out like someone’s dad or something.

He feels a flush spread from the tips of his ears down the back of his neck, but he doesn’t waver. He made his choice. Handshake it is.

He wants a handshake. Oh god, so cute.

Maya reaches out proudly and shakes his hand. “Hi, Shawn. I’m Maya. Thank you for coming tonight. Which artist is your favorite so far?”

Maybe she’s fishing for a compliment. She worked hard on these and has a sinking feeling in her gut about them. Maybe a compliment from an earnest, beautiful boy is what she needs right now.

Shawn has to pretend that the weight of her small hand doesn’t drive him absolutely insane. Her shake is confident, firm, and he loves that. He wants her to hold his hand like this forever. She doesn’t, obviously. But she does put him on the spot, and his cheeks feel warm as his heart stutters.

She probably shouldn’t get quite so much pleasure out of inflicting this awkwardness, especially since he already clearly has no idea how to act around her, but she can’t help it. She likes watching him squirm. She wonders how else she could make him squirm.

“Oh, um—“ he looks around the gallery. He hasn’t really checked out the other artists’ work, except for Parker’s unicorn. It’s cute and all, but not very personal, and he decides he can’t lie. He looks back down at her, pressing his lips together.

She watches his eyes shift around the room, scanning for something. He looks back at her and suddenly she regrets asking him. She doesn’t want his answer. She thinks maybe now he’s going to make her squirm.

“Well. You,” he finally says with a careful shrug of his shoulder.

And then he realizes what he’s just said, and what it sounds like.

“And I mean, I’m not— that’s not a line or anything. I promise,” he’s quick to amend, “I just really like this. It’s— well, I like how it’s beautiful but painful at the same time. And it feels really, like, honest, you know? Like maybe you’re trying to tell people something you’re not used to being open about. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just bullshitting.”

He laughs at himself, pushing his fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and tugging, his gaze dropping to her purple-painted toes.

Maya stares at his lips as they move and spill beautiful truths about her work. She clasps her hands behind her back and hopes her eyes don’t fall right out of her head. He looks so sincere.

She licks her lips and releases a breath all at once. “Well,” she coughs, “Ok then. I think I’ll keep you.”

She reaches out for his arm and tugs him forward while Parker and Sasha exchange a look. Maya curls her arm around his and starts leading him around the gallery slowly.

Apparently, he’s said the right thing. His chest puffs slightly, unconsciously. He likes her praise. He wants more.

She curls herself around his arm, tucks herself into his side like she belongs there and he swears he can’t breathe. He’s barely able to walk with her, but he manages it without tripping, thank God.

Maya likes the way he feels against her. He’s firm and tall and warm and he smells really nice. She hasn’t been this close to a guy without fucking him in a while. It feels… good.

“What made you want to come tonight?”

You. You, you, you.

It’s the honest answer he won’t admit to his friends and barely wants to admit to himself. It almost rolls right off his tongue for her, though.

He manages to stop himself. She’s clearly taken a liking to him, and he doesn’t want to fuck that up by sounding like a huge creep.

He glances at her. “Got a few friends in your program, and some of them managed to be impressive enough as frosh to get put in the show.”

He hopes that’s enough for her. That’s all he is, an incredibly supportive friend.

He uses the term ‘frosh’ which she decides to forgive him for because, well, he is one. And as much as she likes watching him wriggle awkwardly, she doesn’t want to bully him. Instead she nods intently.

“We have a great new crop this year,” she comments, glancing around the gallery. As insecure as she is about this particular installation, she is proud to see how many of her fellow art students have risen to the challenge.

She thinks it’s nice that he came here for his friends. She doesn’t have a lot of non-art program friends that would do that for her. Especially not the straight male kind.

“What, um, what got you into art? Or well, painting, I guess.”

He stumbles through asking her a personal question and it’s all she can do not to plant her lips on his cheek and giggle.

“I’ve been drawing since I could hold things. Painting came later, in high school. I had this one really amazing art teacher who just kept putting things in my hands and making me try things. It felt like a safe space where I wasn’t afraid to fail. That’s hard to find anywhere, especially in high school. She got me into sculpture, too, and some photography. But painting is… I dunno. It feels like the best part of me.”

She blinks. That was… startlingly honest. That wasn’t what she planned to tell him when he asked. It just… happened.

He doesn’t expect her to get carried away. He expects a perfunctory answer, like the kind he gives when people ask him about music and he’s tired of explaining himself.

Maya, however, is shockingly honest. He doesn’t say anything because he wants her to keep talking, keep sharing little bits of herself that maybe she doesn’t share with everyone. He’s selfish, but he wants it.

He wants her.

He pushes the thought away.

He doesn’t flinch or balk at her slight overshare, instead he seems to be leaning closer to her, like he wants more.

Interesting.

“That’s— Yeah, that’s really awesome. Sounds like me and music,” he offers, looking down at her.

He’s a musician. Of course he is. Maya figures you’re not even allowed to be as good looking as he is and not also be a model or an actor or a musician, something that gets you famous one day. So, musician? Yeah, that tracks.

Shawn notices a loose strand of hair caught against her cheekbone, while the rest of her tendrils are tucked neatly behind her ear. He stops without thinking, lifts his fingers to carefully brush the stray strand away from her face, tucking it back with the rest of her hair.

Before she can start to dive into it, finding she also wants to know more about him, he brushes his fingertips across her cheek and stares at her with the most beautiful focus. She goes absolutely silent. She doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath.

He drops his hand like he’s just touched fire, and he feels as though he might burst into flames.

“Sorry, shit. I should’ve asked first but— you had a fly away. Sorry.”

“That’s— that’s ok. I’m… I mean, it’s nice to have someone looking out for the hair,” she jokes, realizing he’s thrown her off her game. She swallows roughly and regroups.

She doesn’t look too upset he touched her without permission. Maybe a little startled, but not upset. He counts it as a win.

“What kind of music do you play? Or write?”

“Oh. Well, I guess my official genre would be indie or alternative. Like any other douchey white dude my age,” he laughs. Truth is, he doesn’t really feel like he has a genre. He just loves music. He’ll play anything, though there are definitely certain songs he’s more suited for than others.

She chokes out a surprised laugh at his “douchey white dude” comment. That sounds like the kind of thing she would’ve said in a snarky voice in her head. She’s glad he beat her to it.

She listens as they make their slow circuit. Maya’s already checked out the rest of the show. Actually, the program’s pretty small so she’s seen most of this work while it was in progress. She just doesn’t want to be staring at him the whole time he talks just because he’s pretty.

He wets his lips, continues, “But I’m all over the place, really. I’ll play anything my vocal chords can wrap around.”

She does look over while he’s wetting his lips and has to stop herself from making a strangled moaning noise.

He wants to know her favorite song, wants to learn it if he doesn’t already know it, and play it for her when they’re alone together. It’s an intoxicating fantasy.

He really wants it, like he does her.

“What sort of music do you listen to?” He asks in lieu of something creepy, like if she wants to come to his dorm for a private concert.

“I… oh, I like a lot of different stuff. I like some indie, some pop. Mostly… mostly I like cheesy 70s and 80s music. I was raised by hippies. “Hotel California” by The Eagles is like the equivalent of the Our Father in my family,” she confesses.

He wishes he had his guitar so badly right now. He knows Hotel California like the back of his hand. It’s one of his mum’s favorites. He’s guessing their parents are close in age, because he was raised on the 70s and 80s, too.

He smiles. He wants to impress her so fucking badly. She’s impressive herself. He just wants to  be worthy of all the time she’s already wasted on him.

Maya tries not to look too closely at his fingers but one glance and it’s too late. They’re thick and strong and somehow elegant and nimble all at once. She feels a little light headed and definitely can’t blame it on the champagne she only had a few sips of.

“Great fucking song,” he rasps as they stop in front of a couple of paintings that her own put to shame. “I could play it for you some time. You know, if you’re into douchebags with acoustic guitars.”

Self-deprecation is one of the best ways to charm people, he’s found. He knows he’s talented --good with his fingers on the strings and good at carrying a melody-- so admitting his faults where he sees them makes people tolerate him a bit more than the guys who act like they’re  God’s gift to music.

Shawn knows he’s not God’s gift to anything. He’s just a kid with a guitar and a decent falsetto.

She shouldn’t swoon at his admission that he also loves “Hotel California” because a lot of guys do and that doesn’t make them cool or worth her time. But… that song is special. Imagining Shawn playing it has her chest bubbling with anticipation.

She licks her lips and sighs, deciding to fall into it. Why the fuck not?

“I dunno about douchebags with acoustic guitars, but I’m starting to think I might be kinda into you.”

She smirks at her own line and lifts her eyes to his.

“Oh,” he coughs, eyebrows lifting. He didn’t expect her to say anything like that.

I might be kinda into you.

What does that mean? He’s not sure. Is she flirting with him? She sounds like she’s flirting, and she’s looking at him like she’s flirting, gazing up at him from under her lashes. His heart thrashes in his ribcage, makes him feel like he might spontaneously combust because never in a million years did he think that he would come here tonight and end up with Maya Lu curled into his side and looking at him like maybe she does want him to invite her to his dorm.

“You, ah, you’ll regret saying that when you decide you hate my Glenn Frey impression,” he says, because it’s safer than anything else bouncing around in his head.

Safer than, good, because I’m really into you. Safer than, let me show you how badly you fuck me up. Safer than, can I kiss you?

It’s the last one that he’s really afraid of blurting.

Carefully, he unwinds his arm from hers and takes a step back so he’s facing her straight on.

He goes all pink and squeaky after her not so subtle comment. She can’t stop grinning. She does, though, when he untangles from her and she wonders for a bleak moment if he’s about to bail out of fear or something. But then he does this golden retriever head tilt thing and asks her a question.

He slides his hands into his pockets and tilts his head. “How long do you have to be here?”

Maya stays cool, pursing her lips and glancing around the gallery. “I probably need to stay for fifteen more minutes before I can safely ditch. What did you have in mind?”

He has to speak through heart palpitations. She seems genuinely interested in bailing on this big deal gallery thing to hang out with him. A nobody freshman, who’s definitely not as cool as some of those senior photography guys. He wonders why she’s not planning to ditch with one of them, instead.

He won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Nothing fancy,” he muses, lifting his shoulder in a small shrug. “We could grab burgers or something. And then I was thinking that maybe I could get you to sing Hotel California for me if I played the accompaniment.”

He gives her a grin he knows girls love. He’s got a fifteen year old little sister whose friends adore this smile, who look at him like he lit the fucking sun whenever he flashes it. He’s not sure if it’s gonna work on a girl who’s not actually a teenager anymore, but it’s worth a shot.

Maya likes watching the cogs of his brain turn as he comes up with a suitable date idea on the fly. He does well suggesting a burger. It’s casual and filling and happens to be one of Maya’s favorite things.

The singing suggestion makes her laugh for two reasons, one because he would need to get her very drunk if he wanted to hear her sing, and two because it’s a clear suggestion he wants to bring her to his dorm.

She looks him up and down, nothing subtle about it. He’s gorgeous, every wholesome Canadian inch of him. She wonders if maybe he’s got a not so wholesome side.

She lands on his smile and almost goes weak at the knees. She giggles a little foolishly and nods.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. Keep yourself busy for 15 while I make the rounds.”

He makes her laugh, so he thinks maybe he’s not so bad at this flirting-with-an-upperclassman thing. Or at pulling date ideas out of his ass.

He smiles, gives her a salute, “Sir, yes, sir.”

He ducks away before she can see the royal red blush that stains his cheeks. He goes from charmingly cool to incredibly stupid so fast, he might have given himself whiplash.

He just hopes Maya doesn’t change her mind. Maybe she’ll think he’s like, adorable or something. A-dork-able, as his kid sister would say.

He pretends to busy himself by looking at the rest of the art, but in truth, he’s watching her. He sneaks glances whenever she’s distracted by a friend or a professor, watches her talk with her hands and laugh with her head tilted to the side. She doesn’t smile at anyone like she did at him, though. Or at least he thinks. Maybe he’s making it up, but it’s a nice thought.

He winds up at the little minibar near the exit and sips on a coke. Parker sidles up to him when he’s watching Maya talk with who he thinks is a sculpting professor.

“You look like a stalker.”

He looks down at Parker, frowns. “No, I don’t. I’m drinking my pop.”

Parker giggles, orders white wine from the bartender. “Okay,” she says when she gets her drink, “then what are you doing? You two looked cozy for a while.”

“We’re gonna get burgers.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. She told me to wait for her.”

“Baby!” Parker squeals a little too loudly, and he winces. She hiccups a laugh and lowers her voice. “Baby, I knew she would dig you. Ash did too.”

“All right, all right. Just-- chill. You’re gonna jinx it.”

He’s not superstitious but he wants to be careful. He wants to really go somewhere with Maya Lu, and not just to the bedroom.

“Okay, okay, sheesh. I’m just saying. You’re a catch, kiddo.”

With a wink, Parker leaves his side, and he’s back to watching Maya charm everyone who looks her way.

Maya can feel his eyes on her. It’s not uncomfortable. She would think it would be, but it’s not. It’s kind of sweet, actually. He makes her feel so… desired.

She bounces around between cliques of art kids and says hi to professors, but her mind is elsewhere. It’s on the rest of her night as she wonders where it might take her with him.

At one point, she takes a glance over shoulder and sees him wide-eyed and embarrassed talking to Parker and she swears she’s never wanted to kiss someone so badly.

Plus, he’s been looking at her all night like she’s out of his league, so he’s likely to want to impress her. She lets the possibilities of that distract her until the fifteen minutes are up and she strolls across the room to fetch him, tugging at his arm and biting her lip.

He pretends to be distracted when she makes her way towards him, just so she doesn’t think he was being impatient or anything. Truth is, he would’ve gladly stood around watching her all night, if that’s what she wanted.

He feels a tug on his arm and he can’t stop the smile that pulls at his lips.

“You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“If there are popsicles here, I want one before we leave,” he says without thinking, looking around the gallery as if actually in search of an icy treat. But then he remembers she doesn’t know him, isn’t used to his bullshit, so he gives her a wide, crooked smile he hopes indicates he doesn’t actually think there are any popsicles here.

He just wants to make her laugh again. It’s such a pretty laugh.

He’s definitely a doofus. She kinda loves it. Boys aren’t usually so dorky around her, or around any girls she knows. But Shawn is genuine, every bit of him. It makes her smile.

“Next gallery show I will make sure we have popsicles,” she chuckles, leaning into his touch a little.

He bites his lip and reaches carefully for the small of her back, tipping his head towards the door. “Let’s go, Picasso.”

Maya rolls her eyes, but doesn’t correct him. Instead, they head for the door.

The night is frigid, because it’s Toronto. She leans into him further as they begin to trudge to the burger place that’s just off campus.

The crisp sting of cold air has her tucking herself closer to his side, though he likes to think that maybe she just wants to be close to him. He should be so lucky.

“So where are you from?”

“Oh, uh, just Pickering. Like thirty minutes from here,” he says as he pulls his jacket off and holds it out for her.

“Cold?” he asks with a tilt of his head, but doesn’t wait for her to answer before he drapes the jacket around her shoulders, making sure to pull up the collar to protect her neck, too. It’s a moment that feels like it belongs in a movie, but he loves it. He loves the way his jacket practically swallows her whole, and he wonders if she’ll end up wearing it long enough for her scent to linger on the leather after she’s gone.

She wasn’t really angling to get his jacket but she’s not going to turn it down. He doesn’t really give her a choice, dropping it around her shoulders and tucking it up against her neck. It’s silly, really, because it’s fucking cold out and he’s going to get cold too. But… it’s so warm. And it smells like him. He smells nice.

Once he’s settled the jacket around her, she curls up against him again under the guise of keeping him warm if she can.

He clears his throat, looks back to the sidewalk ahead of them as he slips his hands in his pockets. He hums. “What about you? You don’t sound very Canadian, if you don’t mind me saying. I haven’t heard you apologize once tonight.”

She chuckles at his comment. “No, I’m from Toronto, actually. Allenby. But my parents are both American so I’m not as Canadian as I could be, eh?”

She’s so fucking cute. He could spend all day listening to her put on a fake Canadian accent. He could spend all day listening to her do anything. He could spend all day doing anything, as long as he got to be near her.

She winks up at him as they’re walking into the burger place. She stares up at the menu and pretends to deliberate even though she knows exactly what she wants -- double cheeseburger with everything on it, including jalapenos, plus a fried egg. Extra crispy fries. Maya doesn’t even consider changing it for the sake of looking dainty on a date. There’s no point in hiding her voracious appetite, she figures. It would come out eventually.

The wink she gives him nearly makes him trip over his own feet. He catches himself but stalls a bit, just staring at the back of her head while she examines the menu above them. He wants to wrap himself around her from behind and tuck his chin on top of her head, but that’s-- it’s just a pipe dream at this point. They’re not together, and this is barely a date. He can’t press into her like he’s already hers.

Instead, he stands behind her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body but with space between them. He glances at the menu for a moment, but he already knows what he’s getting.

Carefully, he cups one of her elbows to get her attention. His brow furrows as he looks down at her. “Know what you want? I’ll order for us.”

Maya hums, bobbing her head. “Double cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, ketchup, grilled onions, special sauce, jalapenos and a fried egg. Extra crispy fries.”

She turns on her heel to smirk up at him. “Can you handle that, cowboy?”

Looking up at him like this, standing here in her favorite burger joint with him in his nice shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with his spicy-minty leather jacket around her shoulders, she’s never felt more like a character in a teen movie. And she doesn’t hate it.

She wants to kiss him so bad.

He wants to kiss her so bad.

She’s looking up at him with a smirk on her lips and a glint in her eye. It’s take more willpower than it should for him to not press her into a wall and find a way to turn that little smirk into a gasp, right in the middle of the restaurant.

“You know, I don’t think there are any cowboys in Canada,” he teases with a gentle squeeze to her elbow, then leans down to purr in her ear, “But I can handle whatever you want, honey.”

He brushes past her then, letting his hand graze against the small of her back as he approaches the register to place their order.

Right there in Sammy’s, he’s got her.

She’s floored. He murmurs against her skin and she can feel the tickle of his warm breath turn her entire body to goosebumps. She snaps her jaw shut to keep from potentially moaning because, Jesus, she was not expecting that.

He decides to go the same route she does, double cheeseburger with everything plus onions and an egg, but he does mayo instead of ketchup and bacon instead of jalapenos. And he orders a chocolate malt with two straws, like the cheesy bastard he is. He’s never had a lady and the tramp moment, but he’s thinking maybe now’s his shot.

“C’mon,” he says when he turns back to her, curling his fingers around hers, “the corner booth is free.”

She doesn’t even hear him order, just watches him slide past her to go to the counter. She stares at his ass for as long as it takes to complete the order. When he turns back and takes her hand, she’s still a little dumbstruck.

Who knew he had it in him?

What else does he have in him?

They slide into a booth across from each other. Maya crosses her legs and leaves her foot resting against his calf with a smile.

“This is one of my happy places on campus,” she tells him, brushing her foot against his leg a little, testing the waters.

It’s a game now. She started with a jab, and he hit back. Now, she’s trying to fucking kill him. Her foot grazes the length of his calf and if he were two years younger, he’d be hard for her already. As it is, he has to tug on one of his pant legs under the table. Just in case.

He slides his leg forward until their knees are pressed together, but he plays it like he has no clue. He settles his forearms on the table and leans forward slightly, tilting his head.

Maya isn’t into games with guys, generally. She never likes feeling like she has to play with a version of herself to get somewhere with someone. But this kind of game? Yeah, this is fun. She sweeps her tongue over her front teeth as his knee settles against hers.

“I like the trivia nights,” he admits, even though his friends think it’s super dorky of him. Maybe Maya will think it’s cute or charming or something. Trivia is fun. He’s fun. He wants to get a chance to show her that.

“And, you know,” he continues, “the giant milkshakes.”

He smiles at her and decides he’d really like to hold her hand, would like to reach across the table and slip their fingers together so they’re connected in as many places as is appropriate in public. His fingers twitch against the table, but he doesn’t move.

It’s not his turn, anyway.

“I’m really good at trivia,” she comments, tilting her head the same way he is.

“Bet you’re smarter than me,” he notes with a wink.

Maya eyes the waitress as she brings over one of the giant milkshakes he mentions. She smiles. She loves milkshakes.

The waitress sets it down. Maya leans forward to draw one of the straws into her mouth. In doing so, the v-neck of her dress tugs down and Shawn gets a peek at what’s beneath. She blinks up at him as she sucks and backs away slowly, swallowing.

“You got my favorite flavor.”

She makes it really, really hard for him to not kiss her. Her smile draws him in, in a way he couldn’t have imagined before tonight. What was once a crush has turned into heavy infatuation that makes butterflies swirl in his gut.

He tries so fucking hard not to watch the collar of her dress slip down her chest. He wants to see her, wants to see everything, but he doesn’t want it like this, sneaking a peek from across the table like a peeping Tom.

He watches her lips around her straw instead, and it’s almost as intimate as looking at her body.

“Chocolate’s a given when it comes to milkshakes,” he murmurs with a smile, reaching for the second straw and taking a sip of his own, looking up at her from under his lashes as he does.

He’s got such long, pretty eyelashes. They lay against his cheeks beautifully. It’s always unfair when boys have such nice eyelashes, but Maya appreciates his.

She sits back and crosses her legs again between his knees. It’s casually intimate, not in a first date way, but in an ‘I’ve known and loved you for years’ way.

It doesn’t feel wrong.

He pulls back from the shake only to let the waitress place their burgers in front of them. He plucks a fry and dips it in the shake.

“And,” he says as he lets the excess ice cream drip from the end of the potato, “chocolate also goes the best with fries.”

She grins down at her burger and sighs. “I personally like coffee shakes the best with fries but people think I’m a freak for that.”

She dips a fry and crunches into it, looking over to see what he got — it’s almost identical to her burger. Her heart flutters.

His brows raise. Coffee. He’s never even thought to try that in shake form, to be honest. She’s definitely smarter than he is. He laughs.

“Yeah, you are a freak. But you’re also a complete genius. Next time, we’ll get coffee.”

He already has a mouthful of fries when he realizes what he’s said. Next time. As if she’s automatically going to want to see him again. He should be so lucky.

Then again, her long, crossed legs are tucked tightly between his thighs, and it’s not even like, some kind of foreplay.

It’s more like, Hi. I just wanted to be as close to you as I could get.

So maybe there is hope for a next time.

He calls her a genius and she giggles around her enormous bite of food. She almost doesn’t even pick up on his ‘next time’ slip. But he flinches a little when he realizes it.

She swallows and dips another fry, shrugging. “Yeah, we could do that next time. Or we could try that new sushi place off Seven Oaks.”

She wiggles her nose to keep from grinning at him like a goof because she’s taken two bites of this burger and definitely wants a second date.

The butterflies in his stomach go mad, and he’s so not hungry at all anymore. He can’t just not eat, though. It’s rude and also would probably be really weird and she’d ask him what’s wrong and he’d have to say, ‘Absolutely nothing, I just think I’m already falling in love with you.’

So he takes a bite of his burger.

They continue chatting and eating and she gets more comfortable with him with every bite. He’s sweet and funny but not in that annoying way when boys know they’re funny and work it too hard. He’s naturally likeable. She likes spending time with him. And he has great taste in burgers, so.

He doesn’t know what to do about the fact that she’s acting like his girlfriend, beside totally freak out. It’s too good to be true. The girl he’s been crushing on since orientation seems to actually dig him, and not just in that one night stand sex way.

Why waste time on a burger if you just want to fuck?

It’s not just the burger. It’s in the way she laughs at his jokes and the way she looks him dead in the eye, like they’ve been staring at each other for years. It’s in the way she says his name like he’s already her best friend.

It’s completely surreal.

They stand to leave and she takes his hand again because it feels natural. Once they’re outside, she tucks their entwined hands into a pocket of his jacket she’s still wearing.

“Where to?” she asks with a twinkle in her eye.

He pretends to think of where they should go, but he really just wants to be alone with her. He’s just not quite sure how to ask her back to his dorm in a non-pervy way.

His thumb traces her knuckles as he bites his lip and looks down at her. He turns to face her, brings his free hand to her hair and tucks the few strands that have fallen loose behind her ear.

“I just like talking to you,” he says with a shrug. “So anywhere we can keep doing that?”

Shawn is tender with her, she’s noticed. She didn’t think from the way he acted that he was only trying to get in her pants at any point since they’ve known each other, but now she’s very sure that’s not it for him. Especially as he holds her hand like this, like he’s not sure she’ll ever let him touch her again.

She wants to assure him she will.

The final moment, the one that seals the deal for her, is when he doesn’t immediately suggest his dorm because he’s clearly worried it would be an overstep. Truth is though, that’s where she wants to be with him.

She holds her breath as he tucks some hair behind her ear. She releases it in a slow exhale and squeezes his fingers in her pocket.

“Can we go to your place, please?”

His chest relaxes and his heart follows, though only slightly. He’s not sure his heart rate will ever be normal around her.

He wets his lips as he looks down at her, ready to nod when something stops him. He presses his thumb to the back of her hand and tilts his head, his tongue darting out to glide across his lower lip.

Maya expects him to whisk her off to his dorm quickly before she can think about changing her mind, but he doesn’t. He stands firm and stares at her like a puppy with his head cocked.

“Can I kiss you first? Please.”

He’s so polite about it. It’s very Canadian. And, she thinks, very Shawn.

“Yes you may.”

Thank God.

His lips twitch with a hint of a smile before he presses them together, nodding. “That’s great, it’s--”

He cuts himself off with a shake of his head and brings his hands to her neck, cupping her carefully as he brushes his thumbs along her jaw until they meet at her chin. Tilting her head back, he ducks down and gently presses his lips to hers.

Oh god, he’s perfect.

It’s the first conscious thought that runs through her head after the brain scramble of feeling his lips on hers.

It’s a great kiss. It’s truly good in every way -- his hands aren’t grabby, his lips are so soft, he’s gentle without being too careful.

She lifts her hands to rest on his forearms and tilts her head to kiss him back, stepping just a bit closer to him.

Maya leans into him in a way he couldn’t have predicted. She melts, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her deeper, one hand dropping from her neck so he can wrap his arm around her waist and pull her until she’s flush against him.

It’s a few hot seconds before they pull apart. She gasps a little unconsciously and hums under her breath.

He stops kissing her only because he needs to breathe. He takes a breath, eyes still closed, and drops his forehead gently against hers.

“Mm, um,” he chokes out a breathless laugh, “Thanks. Thank you.”

She makes him an idiot.

He thanks her for kissing him. Like, actually thanks her. It’s the best thing she’s ever heard.

“You’re welcome,” she replies breathlessly, nodding at him as she starts to chuckle.

After a moment, he pulls away from her, untangling their bodies except from where they’re joined hand in hand.

“My dorm’s this way. It’s Chestnut, not too far,” he says, pulling her along through the chilly night that’s doing absolutely nothing to calm the heat radiating throughout his entire body.

Maya hustles along beside him until they reach Chestnut. She bites her tongue against mentioning she’s been here before -- freshman year she was hooking up with a guy that lived on the third floor. But that’s not important now.

They make their way up the elevators and down the hallway to Shawn’s room.

He got pretty lucky, dorm-wise. It’s a suite style room, with two singles attached to a common area with a kitchenette. Besides that, his roommate, Brian, spends most of his time at his sophomore girlfriend’s off-campus apartment. So really, Shawn gets the whole suite to himself more often than not.

He knows Brian is gone tonight, so he doesn’t have to send him a ‘GET OUT’ text as he and Maya ride the elevator.

He extracts himself from Maya’s side only to unlock the door and push it open for her. He doesn’t worry about running in first and cleaning shit up, because he’s a pretty clean guy as it is. Plus, he has plenty of female friends and he knows they think boys are pretty gross, so. He tries his best to be the exception to that rule. His mum taught him well enough, anyway.

“After you,” he says with a slight smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Just, you know, make yourself at home.”

Shawn’s room is one of the cleaner boy’s dorms she’s ever been in. That bodes well, she thinks. She glances around with her hands clasped behind her back and realizes all of a sudden she’s nervous.

Not bad nervous, not run away nervous, but keyed up, like she’s a kettle full of steam. She just hopes she won’t start whistling as soon as he touches her again.

His room is warm and cozy, so she slips out of his jacket and places it on the chair, eyeing him to see what will happen next.

“Where’s that guitar of yours, pal?”

He flushes, glances behind him towards his room. He didn’t think she’d really want to hear him play. It feels a little… cheesy, you know? Like it’s just something he’s trying to do to get her panties off. Which is definitely not his angle. Well. He can’t pretend he doesn’t want her panties off, but that isn’t his only goal here. He wouldn’t even mind if they kept their clothes on all night, as long as she wanted to see him again.

He wants her to like him. And his guitar is part of that. So if she’s down, he is too.

“Just in my room,” he answers with a small smile. “You sit, I’ll go grab it.”

He nods towards the couch before falling back into his room. He toes his shoes off and tugs at his belt, removing it so he can relax a bit more. Though he’s not sure if that’ll be possible, what with Maya in his fucking room.

Shawn lights up when she mentions his guitar. As he hustles into his room, she sits on the edge of the sofa, bouncing her knee eagerly. She’s trying not to peek in and see his bedroom because it’ll probably just make her more nervous. Instead, she picks at her nails.

Shawn grabs his guitar off its stand and goes back to the common room, where Maya is perched on his sofa. He smiles and drapes the guitar strap over his shoulders before he sits down next to her.

He glances her way. “Any requests? Hotel California? Or something else?”

He comes back looking a little more comfy and she’s sure it has to do with the instrument in his hand. She smiles and pats the sofa beside her, kicking off her own shoes and sitting pretzel style, turned toward him.

She eyes the guitar, sees where it’s worn from his spending hours with it, plucking and strumming. It makes her smile to imagine what this guitar has seen and heard.

She makes herself comfortable next to him and he smiles at her as she beams at him. He could look at her smile forever, if she let him.

“Uhm… do you know She Will Be Loved?”

“Maroon 5, yeah? I love that song,” he says, looking down at his guitar and shifting his fingers on the neck of the guitar through the chords, just to make sure he’s got them sorted before he actually starts playing. He shoves his free hand into his pocket and finds a pick there, which is pretty typical for any given pair of pants he owns.

“I do a better piano cover of this,” he starts with a quirked smile, “But the guitar isn’t too bad.”

He doesn’t look at her when he starts playing, can’t look at her, because if he does he’ll get way too nervous. He’ll trip over chords and forget the lyrics. He keeps his eyes closed and focuses on the music, instead.

“Beauty queen of only 18, she had some trouble with herself…”

She’s just looking at his fingers as he starts to play, she doesn’t expect his voice to come out sounding like that.

Maya looks up from his pretty fingers and feels her smile drop in awe. His eyes are closed and his head is turned slightly away from her. It’s a mercy for them both, she thinks, as she tries to recover.

His voice is smooth and warm and well-practiced and somehow totally, beautifully Shawn. She leans closer unconsciously and licks her lips, bobbing her head a little as he continues.

It’s enchanting, sitting here like this with him as he plays one of her favorite songs. In some bleary, far off corner of her mind, she thinks this is probably the best first date she’s ever had, but she’s not thinking right now, just feeling.

Shawn’s eyes flutter open as he finishes singing, the last few chords of the song playing him out. He looks up to see Maya watching him, and he wonders if she did the entire time. The thought sends a shiver down his spine. He likes the way she looks at him.

He wets his lips and drops his fingers from the guitar to his knee, tilting his head.

“Hope I didn’t butcher one of your favorites,” he murmurs before lifting the strap and placing the guitar on the couch between them.

Maya blinks quickly when the song finishes. She sniffs gently, suddenly conscious of how intently she was watching him. When he looks up at her, he goes a little soft and shy and his reaction makes her decision for her.

“My falsetto isn’t exactly up to Adam Levine standards, but I think it’s getting there.”

He feels stuck now, sitting across from her on his couch. He has no other plans, besides wanting to grab her hand and pull her into him so he can kiss her again. He waits, with his heart lurching into his throat, for Maya to hopefully make the next move.

Maya tamps down a giggle and gently moves the guitar aside so there’s nothing left between them. She scoots in until her knees are touching his and places one hand on his as it rests on his knee and curls the other around his neck to scratch at the tiny curls that tickle him there.

She leans in until her eyes close, her nose brushes his, and she whispers, “Fuck Adam Levine.”

“Well, hopefully not--”

She kisses him with a smile on her lips.

He kisses her back easily, doesn’t even have to think about it. He just… melts. He melts into her, curling his fingers between hers, bringing his other hand to her hip so he can slide her a bit closer.

His hand wanders from her hip, to the small of her back, to her opposing hip so he can curl his arm around her waist. He holds her steadily and deepens the kiss, not as worried about being appropriate now that they’re safely tucked away in his suite. His tongue slips out and drags gently along her lower lip before he sucks at it, worrying the supple flesh with light nips of his teeth.  

He kisses her like he knows exactly how she likes it. She goes with him when he beckons, threading fingers through his curls and gasping at the gentle attentions of his teeth. Maya loses herself a little, climbing almost into his lap to feel warmer, closer, even better as he makes her feel so good. She’s hungry for it.

He pulls away just to breathe, nose nudging hers. “You-- eh, you feel--” he breathes out a laugh,  “Really good. That was really good.”

Really good is like, the understatement of the millennium, but he’s trying to avoid coming off as totally crazy. Even though that’s how she makes him feel. Totally and completely insane, in the absolute best way.

When he pulls back a little, she keeps her eyes shut and tugs teasingly at his hair, nodding at his clumsy but sweet assessment of the kiss.

“You feel… mhm, you feel good too.” Apparently the kiss melted both their brains.

He kisses along her cheek to her ear, mouthing at the shell as his nose grazes her hair.

He takes a breath. “Are you comfortable? I have a shirt you could wear.”

Maya’s breathing grows shallower as he finds his way to her ear, where she’s extra sensitive. His breath sets her whole body at a hum for him.

She swallows and takes a chance. “I don’t need a shirt if you’re going to take my clothes off.”

She gives him whiplash. He chokes against her ear and lets his forehead fall to her temple. He has to take a moment to breathe before he can look at her.

Slowly, he leans away from her so he can look her in the eye, his hand finding the back of her head, fingers slipping into her hair. He wets his lips. “Yeah? You-- That’s what you want?”

The seconds it takes him to inhale and lean back to look at Maya are some of the longest of her life. She looks down at his lips and back up. He’s looking at her like she just asked him if he wants a million dollars.

He figures it’s not something she’d accidentally say. But still. He needs to be sure he’s not dreaming. He needs to look her in the eye as she tells him it’s okay. He needs to know that she really does want him as badly as he wants her.

“Because we can just chill, you know, maybe watch The Office or something,” he offers, fingers scratching gently against her scalp and he studies her face.

He doesn’t really want to watch TV, but if that’s what she decides she wants, that’s what they’ll do.

And then, in the most Shawn-ish fashion, he offers a very vanilla, very sweet alternative. She can picture it, and it would be nice -- he’d get her a t-shirt to change into and would blush at all the leg she’s showing. They’d curl up under a blanket. Maybe he’d put his arms around her. They’d discuss their favorite episodes at length. It’s a great option.

It’s not the one she wants right now.

Maya leans in again, exhales slowly as she brushes the tip of her nose back and forth over his. “Maybe next time.”

She plants her hands on his shoulders and maneuvers herself into his lap to straddle him.

Next time. There’s that phrase again. He hopes to the God he doesn’t really believe in anymore that she’s not just playing with him. He wants next time so fucking badly, and this time isn’t even over yet.

His teeth sink into his lip as she slides into his lap, his hands immediately falling to her hips. He swallows, looks up at her from under his lashes as he pulls her flush against his thighs.

“You’re really fuckin’ beautiful, you know,” he murmurs, sliding one hand up her side until he can cup her ribcage, his thumb bracing her just beneath her breast. Slowly, he drops his head so he can dust kisses along her delicate collarbone, until he hits the strap of her dress. One hand slips to her ass as he nips at the fabric in his way, tugging it off of her shoulder before mouthing at her newly bared skin.

Maya smiles at his sweet comment and ducks her head a little. She manages to control the instinctive rolling of her hips as Shawn explores her clavicle and shoulder. His lips are soft but purposeful in their journey, wandering but not lost.

She presses back slightly into his hand when he dips it to cover her ass, wanting to feel just how big his hand is against her. She gasps breath around a gentle whimper of encouragement.

He wants to leave a mark, wants to leave evidence on her skin of their time together, of the way she makes him feel. His lips retrace their steps along her clavicle until he finds the base of her neck, flirting with the idea of sucking at her flesh until a bruise blooms beneath his teeth.

“How d’you like it?” he murmurs, gaze flicking up to her face as he lazily mouths at her throat. He hopes she knows what he’s getting at.

Shawn’s lips continue. Maya’s mouth is dry. Truthfully, she’s never let anyone give her a hickey before. In high school, she didn’t want to get caught with them. Now in college, she never wanted people knowing her business. But… there’s something in her fluttering gut that has her almost begging for one from him.

She perks up, peeking down at him and sinking her hand into his silky curls. “Want you to mark me.”

He groans, pressing his head into her hand and nodding. He nips at her skin, then soothes the reddening spot with his tongue.

“Okay, baby,” he murmurs, the pet name slipping out easily, as if he’s been calling her that for years.

Maya curls her fingers tight into his hair. The pet name makes her breath go short in her chest and she wriggles a little further up his lap, closer to him. She tips her head back and sighs, whispering his name under her breath.

He kisses her throat once, twice, then sucks her skin between his lips. He works her until she’s warm against his tongue. He releases her with a sucking ‘pop’ then nibbles her with his teeth until he’s satisfied with the red, splotchy mark that blossoms.

He knows exactly what he’s doing, and it’s so, so sexy. She wasn’t totally sure he would, given how blushy and sweet he’s been around her all night -- that doesn’t usually equate to confidence in the bedroom, but he’s proving her wrong with every firm purposeful nip and nibble.

God, he feels good. She blinks hard and realizes she’s said it out loud. Oh well. By the way she’s shifting in his lap, he probably knows how good she feels.

He pulls back, admires his work with a hum.

“Pretty,” he rasps, gaze flicking up to her flushed face. “Don’t think it’ll be too hard to cover down there, either.”

He pulls away with a wet noise that makes Maya’s thighs tighten against his. She lifts her fingers to trace where his mouth was and cracks a smile.

“I’m not hiding this one.”

A smile tugs his lips, but only for a moment. He dives back in to her neck, mouthing kisses along the column of her throat until he reaches her ear. “You wanna do me? Turnabout's fair play, and all that.”

Shawn’s hungry for more of her skin. She lets him have it willingly. His offer makes her bleary eyes open. She pulls away and looks him over, pink-cheeked, chest heaving, eyes wide and eager. She pinches his chin between her fingers and leans in, kissing him slowly. When she pulls away, she has a dangerous glint in her eye.

“Yeah,” she hums, leading a series of light kisses down his jaw to a spot under his ear that is so soft under her mouth she wants to plant a flag and call it hers. She flicks her tongue over it quickly and follows it with a nip before sucking his skin into her mouth.

Holy Shit.

“Holy shit,” he groans, his hips twitching as she latches on to one of his most sensitive spots. His hands fall to her ass so her can pull her closer, hold her tighter, even though they’re already pressed snugly together.

His cock is beyond hard in his slacks, pushing needily against his fly as his toes curl in his socks. She’s barely done anything and he feels like he might come. It’s always been his problem, getting too overwhelmed too quickly.

And with Maya it’s like, ten times worse.

“Fuck, sugar,” he groans as his head falls back against the couch, exposing even more of his neck for her while his fingers knead her round ass.

Maya nips a little harder than she means to when he grabs her ass and drags her until they’re chest to chest. She mewls into the mark she’s leaving him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, reveling in how broad and strong he feels. And how totally at her mercy he is.

From this close, she can feel the length of him straining in his pants and she gets a little carried away, sucking and mouthing and nipping at this one spot until he’s almost purple. She winces and kisses it tenderly, sitting back a little to grin sheepishly as he massages her ass with his long fingers.

“Sorry,” she giggles, “That’s gonna be there for a while.”

His fingers find his neck for a moment, pressing into the sensitive, bruising skin beneath his ear. He moans, low and husky, and shrugs a little.

“S’okay. I--” he clears his gravelly throat, “I like it. I like you.”

He’s proud of himself. Proud that he can have the prettiest, sexiest, most fucking incredible girl in the world squirming in his lap and still not come in his boxers. Talk about fucking embarrassing.

He needs more.

“Wanna make you come. Please.” he pants, eyes shut as she kisses his neck. He pushes one hand under her dress, fingertips teasing the hem of her thong where it clings to the curve of her hip.

She trails along to the territory of his throat when he croaks at her again. She coos a sound of approval and sits back again to look at him. She nods frantically, pressing her hands into his chest to show her urgency.

“Touch me. I wanna feel you,” she pleads, squirming in his lap as his fingers scrape over her bare skin.

The whine in her voice makes his cock throb, and he sinks his fingers deeper into the soft flesh of her ass. He nods, licking his lips as he wraps an arm around her waist and stands up, holding her tight as he makes his way to his bedroom.

“In here,” he murmurs against her lips while kissing her, pecking her lower lip before sucking it between his teeth.

Shawn has enough presence of mind to take her to his bedroom. She stumbles over his feet a little, giggling into his mouth and it’s a warm comfort amidst all this sexy novelty. She rises on her toes to continue kissing him properly. He tastes so fucking good. She thinks she might not be able to leave his pretty lips alone now.

Carefully, he lies her down on his bed, then stands to the side. He tilts his head as he studies her, studies the rise and fall of her chest and the way the mark on her throat is beginning to turn purple. He smiles, just a quick quirk of his lips.

Maya fights herself to release him as he stands up beside her. His eyes are warm and curious as they look her over. She doesn’t flinch or shy away from them. She presses her ass into the bed and sighs needily.

“Do you want to take off your dress for me?” he asks in a low voice, his fingers finding the buttons of his shirt. He deftly snaps them open, then lets the dress shirt fall from his shoulders to pool at his feet.

But he gives her something to do and she’s grateful. She sits up, nodding as she stares at him. She glances away to fiddle with the zipper under her arm. When she’s got it, she looks back up and her face goes blank.

“Oh, holy fuck.”

His chest is firm and broad, leading to a tapered waist. His abs are beautifully defined without being overdone. He has a light trail of hair leading into his pants. Maya wants to cry.

Instead, she releases a whimper and lifts her dress over her head, climbing onto her knees. In her tiny thong and strapless bra, she’s still too clothed.

He looks up at her exclamation. She’s scrambling out of her dress, dropping it to the floor, and then she’s naked.

Well, not really naked, but still naked enough for his hand to fall to his clothed cock as he exhales through his nose, his lower lip tucked beneath his teeth.

“You okay?” he asks after a moment of looking, lifting a knee and pressing it to the bed. His hand drops from his dick and he reaches for her cheek instead, tilting her head back.

Shawn leans down, presses a kiss to the apple of her cheek, then to her jaw, then her earlobe.

He clearly misunderstands her expression of shock and awe and it only endears him to her more. So does his grabbing at his cock when she drops her dress.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby,” he murmurs, carefully licking at the shell of her ear, loving the way it makes a shiver roll down her spine.

As he lifts up onto the bed to kiss her face tenderly and tongue at her ear, her heart begins to race.

“You’re… so hot,” she croaks. After a moment, she chuckles nervously.

“I mean, you’re more than hot. Obviously. You’re incredibly sweet and thoughtful and funny and you tell stories well and you’re very handy with a guitar but Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking hot. Like, Cute Freshman is not an appropriate nickname for you at all. You’re… you’re definitely Fucking Hot Freshman,” she babbles.

He feels his cheek heat, and he’s suddenly very nervous despite all of the praises she gives. He presses his face into her neck so he doesn’t have to look at her, or else he might combust. He knew-- He knows he’s good looking, knows he’s not shabby in the body department either, but he didn’t know-- well, he didn’t think Maya was going just as crazy over him as he is over her.

Now, he thinks, maybe she is.

Maya takes the opportunity to play with his hair again when he tucks his face in her neck and kisses her there again. The skin is tender, but he’s gentle. She hums from the back of her throat and keeps her fingers entangled in his curls.

Maya blinks. “And… I like it when you call me ‘baby.’”

His heart stutters in his chest, and all he really cares about, more than being called sweet or hot or anything, is that apparently, he’s giving her things she likes. He kisses her neck, a careful brush of his slick lips against her bruised skin.

“And I like calling you baby,” he murmurs before pulling away so he can look at her, now that his breathing is somewhat under control.

“But who’s calling me Cute Freshman?” he asks with a cheeky grin, because he couldn’t help but notice that slight slip of her tongue.

She grins. “Oh, me. For a few months now. Well, not just me. Me and a bunch of the junior art girls. You’re just so… cute. Whenever I see you on campus, you smile at me. It’s cute.”

Maybe she should be embarrassed to admit she had a nickname for him before they even really knew each other, but she doesn’t care. Plus, she’s sitting naked beneath him feeling all the testosterone-driven heat melting off him, so it’s a little late for embarrassment over nicknames.

His head reels. A bunch of the junior art girls? He’s curious about it, but not as curious about the sounds Maya might make when he makes her come. He doesn’t care about other girls enough to distract himself from her.

Maya smoothes a hand down his chest, admiring his soft skin over rippling muscle. She skims over his slacks and cups his cock, lifting an eyebrow.

“But like I said, you’re so much more than just cute.”

His gaze drops to her hand and he hisses when she finds his cock, head falling back slightly as his hips press forward.

“Uh huh,” he rasps, because he’s quickly losing the ability to articulate actual words.

Shawn goes all throaty and soft when she gets a hand on him, but she doesn’t want to push it and start stroking him right away. She wants this to last and he… kinda looks like he’s already trying not to bust a nut. She drags her hand up to the button of his slacks and pulls at it, just flirting with the idea of taking them off.

“You-- ah, you know why I always say hi?” he asks to distract himself, to stop an unfortunate event from occurring in his slacks before they’ve gotten a chance to do much of anything. He clears his throat, looks down at her as he continues, “You were my orientation tour guide. I--” I think I’m kinda sorta a little bit in love with you. “--I thought you were so pretty. And smart. And just, someone I wanted to know.”

He wants to tell her he has the biggest fucking crush on her in the world, but he doesn’t. Her hand on his cock won’t get him to admit it, even though it seems like a sure sign she’d be okay with it.

He has to keep some cards to himself. For now, at least.

She frowns. She… doesn’t remember seeing him. How is that possible?

“Really? Shit, I don’t remember. I mean, it was a long summer of tours, I guess.”

She pushes hair off his forehead and smiles bashfully. “I… would’ve thought I’d remember you.”

He doesn’t care that she doesn’t remember him. He doesn’t blame her. She probably met like, a hundred different kids over the summer. He was just a face in the crowd.

She felt like a beacon to him.

He’s too fucking sappy for his own good.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs with a smile. “I’m pretty sure I remembered well enough for the both of us.”

Maya’s getting a little impatient. She curls her fingers through his belt loops and tugs him forward as she lies back until he’s planted above her.

“Kiss me,” she whispers.

His chest heaves as he watches her tug at his belt loops, stumbling forward until he’s over her on the bed, knees cradling her hips on either side. He drops a hand down to the pillow beneath her head, back curling as he leans down.

“I really like kissing you,” he murmurs before he catches her lips. His free hand slips between them, fingers teasing along her collarbone, down her sternum, until he reaches the little bow at the center of her bra. He realizes after a moment that beneath the bow lies the clasp, and he sucks in a breath.

Carefully, flicks the clasp and her bra falls open, the cups slipping away from her breasts. He keeps kissing her, keeps his lips flush against her cheek so he doesn’t distract himself by looking, not until she lets him know it’s okay.

Having Shawn propped up over her like this is a little intoxicating. He smells nice, like spicy cologne and clean boy. And god, can he kiss.

Maya drags her hands up his sides, feeling how they flare out to thick, warm shoulder blades. She holds on to them and goes still beneath him as his fingers meet the clasp of her bra. He gets it open without issue, which makes her smile into his warm, soft mouth. She teases his tongue with hers and lifts her back off the bed enough to pull the bra out from under her and drop it off the side of the bed.

From this angle, she can feel the way his cock strains against his pants. Maya breaks away from the kiss long enough to slide her fingers down his chest, around his belly button to the button of his slacks, looking into his eyes when she pops it open and starts tugging them down.

“Do you wanna touch me?” she whispers.

He pulls his head from her neck when she starts teasing her fingers down his torso until she reaches his pants. Her eyes are wide, glossy when he looks at her, and he wonders if he looks just as equally fucked. Probably more so, if he’s being honest.

He bites his lip and nods, lets his hand fall to her ribcage so he can cup her just beneath her breast. “All over, baby. Fuck,” he breathes, leaning back down to bite at her jaw.  

His thumb grazes the underside of her breast as he moves towards her nipple. He presses his face into her neck again and gently flicks the taut little peak. While mouthing at her throat, his hips drop and he presses his cock against her abdomen, slowly rutting against her.

“Feel so good, Maya,” he murmurs, kissing his way up to her ear and tugging at her nipple, giving it a little more attention than before.

Maya’s hungry hands come to a faltering stop around his hips when she feels his calloused thumb skim the underside of her breast. Her head tips to allow him access and she mewls gently, lifting a leg to wrap over his as he settles against her.

Maya’s nipples have always been so sensitive -- if he’d gone any further than the gentle flicking and tugging, she would’ve squirmed away uncomfortably. She knows he has no way of knowing that already, but it feels like he does. It feels like he just knows her. She arches into his touch, eyelids fluttering, hips rolling in time with his, nodding numbly.

“Yeah,” she breathes, “Feels like…”

She cuts herself off with a bite into her lower lip before she can say something ridiculous like “heaven” or “perfect.” She moans quietly instead.

She doesn’t finish her sentence and he doesn’t ask. He’s nervous to. He can fill in the blank in his mind, with something like, ‘Feels like I’m going crazy’ or even, ‘Feels like fucking heaven on earth.’

It’s nice, sometimes, to pretend.

“Where else?” he asks after a moment, finally ready to pull himself away from her neck, sitting back on his heels as he looks down at her. He swallows against a groan that threatens to spill from his lips. She’s gorgeous; flushed and arching beneath him, her dusky brown nipples taut, hopefully from his attention and not just the cool room.

“Where else do you wanna be touched, baby?”

He sits back and pants at her. Maya resists the urge to yank him back down on top of her because she misses his lips and fingers already. But it’s for a good cause.

Maya comes up on a forearm and watches him watch her. She sighs.

“Touch my pussy, Shawn. Please.” She drops back and lifts her hips, dragging her panties down her thighs, tossing them off the side of his bed.

“Shit,” he growls when she wiggles out of her panties and begs for him. It’s unbelievably sexy. Maya knows exactly what she wants and she’s not afraid of it. His cock throbs, but it’s not about him right now.

He swallows thickly as he lets his eyes wander down the length of her body, from her round tits to the soft curve of her stomach to her slick, spread thighs. He reaches for her knee just as he looks at her pussy, sucks in a breath at the sight of her.

Maya groans, eyelids fluttering as she finally gets the tiniest bit of relief from him sweeping his fingers down her stomach to spread her lips.

“Baby. Fuck, you’re pretty. And wet,” he growls, dropping his other hand to her cunt, pressing two fingers to her lips and spreading them wide.

He gets dirty fast and it takes Maya by surprise. She would’ve said she was expecting something a little more vanilla from him -- sweet missionary love making with whispered grunts and pretty words in her ear.

But this… this’ll work.

“You really this wet all for me?” he murmurs, eyes flicking up at her face as he massages her knee, tongue gliding slowly along his lower lip.

Maya spreads her legs further, needily. She chews on her lower lip and slides her hands up into her hair, nodding.

“God, yeah. Fuck, Shawn. So wet for you. All for you.”

She wonders if her dirty talk might be rusty, it’s been a while since she’s utilized it. But looking up at him while he’s looking at her like this, while he’s fucking touching her like this, she’s not worried. He may very well bring it out in her.

“You wanna make me feel good, baby?” she purrs.

He doesn’t know where his self control comes from, because she’s definitely trying to kill him. She spreads her legs, arches her back, grabs at her own hair like she’s absolutely desperate for him.

His hand goes to his cock again, because there’s only so much he can do.

“Yeah,” he rasps, slowly massages his fingers along her smooth, wet pussy lips. He avoids the tight clench of her entrance as well as her clit, curious to see how wet he can get her before he gives in and this is all over.

“I fuckin’ do, sugar. And I’m gonna— Gonna make you feel so good you’ll scream when you come all over my fingers,” he gets out in a growl, tugging at his cock as he spreads her lips wider and hangs his head so he can blow a sharp stream of air against her clit.

As she teases him, he teases her right back, and he knows exactly how. She hums and closes her eyes, focuses on the way his fingers feel as they stroke her, like they’re learning her and admiring her at the same time. She expected him to make quick work of her when he realized how wet she was, but he’s taking his time. Maya knows very well she’s worth the time, but most guys don’t realize that on the first date.

Her shiver at him calling her “sugar” again was followed quickly by a sharp gasp and the feeling that her entire body clenched hard for him all at once. She grabs at his hair and tugs, arching so hard off the bed that she almost knees him in the stomach but she’s out of control now. She squeals his name, feels herself drip onto his sheets below her.

“Jesus Christ, Shawn,” she pants, glancing down at him over her heaving chest. She’s beginning to realize he might end up being the best she’s ever had.

She whimpers at the idea and goes slack against the bed, ready to let him give it to her. “Please. Please touch me. Fuck me with your fingers.”

A slow, cocky grin splits his lips. She’s eager beneath him, responsive to him in a way he hasn’t seen before. He hasn’t even done much, but she says his name like a prayer.

The smile on his face has her on fucking fire. She’s almost delirious enough to look around her and make sure she’s not actively burning up.

He groans at her demanding pleas and drops down to kiss her, sucking at her bottom lip as his finger slip along her slit. Carefully, he nudges her dripping entrance with the calloused tip of his middle finger.

He nips at her before pulling away from her lips, then sits up straight again, head hung as he looks down at her.

“S’this what you like, baby?” he murmurs as he sinks the tip of his finger into her slick heat, hooking it slightly to press against her soft flesh. He’s not sure which angle is the best for her, but he’s gonna love taking his time to figure it out.

His kiss has her distracted again, sighing into his sweet mouth as he probes her wetness gently, exploring her, learning what gets her gasping. When he curls a finger inside her clenching walls, she moans, low and soft.

“Yeah,” she coos, “Yeah, I like that.”

Shawn doesn’t just thrust a finger inside and hope it gets the job done. He’s careful and meticulous, so gentle that she hangs on his every movement. She breathes heavily, looking between his hand and his face, pressing kisses into his cheeks and jaw every so often.

His free hand massages her inner thigh, slowly inching closer to her pussy with each press of his broad palm. Soon he’s close enough to stretch his fingers above her clit, teasing the neatly trimmed patch of curly hair there.

It’s fucking sexy, she’s so goddamn sexy.

He flirts with the notion of touching her clit. She lifts her hips to encourage him, but he smoothes through her patch of pubic hair to keep her on the edge.

“Feels so good,” she promises him, nodding as she wets her lips, “Need a little more, baby.”

He didn’t need her to tell him. He knows she needs more, knows he’s probably making her clit throb just as badly as his cock is. But that’s the best part.

He leans down, bites lightly at the apple of her cheek as he slips his fingers from her curls down to her spread lips, the tip of his index finger sitting just on top of her swollen clit. He taps her nub once, twice, then swirls his finger in a delicate, teasing circle, using her wetness for an easy glide.

Maya is trying not to get hysterical because that might be a little much for their first time doing anything sexual. He’s making it as difficult as he can to keep her from losing it and begging, wriggling her hips to get his finger in deeper.

She breathes through her nose and closes her eyes, yelping a little when he nibbles at her cheek. She giggles at his playfulness and tangles fingers in his hair to help steer him.

“Oh, yeah?” He purrs against her cheek, “Want my finger deeper in your pussy?”

He emphasizes his question with a flick to her clit, followed by a tight pinch between his forefinger and thumb.

His finger lingers around her clit, teasing her so gently her abdomen flutters. The sharp sensation of the flick and pinch sends her reeling.

“Ohmygod, oh my fucking god,” she croaks, nodding quickly, “Yeah. Deeper. Your fingers are so nice and long. I wanna feel them deeper.”

She doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed now. She’s laid it all out for him.

Shawn can’t hold out anymore; he gives her what she wants, sinks his finger deeper into her cunt, until he’s buried to the hilt.

He pulls back so he can watch himself play with her pussy. One finger circles her clit while he curls the other deep inside of her, before starting a slow rocking rhythm that has his knuckle grazing her sensitive walls.

As Shawn’s finger slides deeper, without much resistance due to how fucking wet she is, she exhales slowly, chest shuddering hard, chin tilting back with a quiet groan.

He’s working her up so good. He pays careful attention to each of her reactions, giving her exactly what she wants before she can show or tell him that she wants it. She’s high on him, rocking with each of his finger’s strokes, waiting for him to give her a little bit more.

“Shit,” he groans, “Look how wet you’re getting for me, sugar.”

He presses the front of his thigh against the inside of hers, spreading her legs wide so he can get a better angle to stroke her heat as he slips a second finger inside.

He tucks his fingers deep inside of her, then scrapes his thumb nail carefully over the sensitive nub of her clit, peeking out from under its hood.

Shawn spreads her legs further and looks down at her hungrily. He slips a second finger inside her easily, stretching her out, stroking her deeper. She swears under her breath and tucks her arms up under his pillow for something to hold onto as he tears her apart piece by piece.

With the sharp sensation on her clit, she bucks hard, hard enough his fingers almost slip out.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she begs, turning her flushed face into the pillow as she cries out for him, “Please, I’m so, so fucking close.”

He feels like sobbing as she whines and moans beneath him. She’s absolutely writhing for him, her wet cunt getting wetter with each flick of her hips and stroke of his fingers.

She’s particularly fond, it seems, of the rough scratch of his nail against her hard clit.

“Oh baby,” he coos, “You like it a little rough, huh?”

He swipes the roughened pad of his thumb across her clit before lifting his hand to give her a little spank, right on her perky nub.

She wants more, she gets more.

Maya flinches and gasps, “YES!”

Her clit throbs at his rough attentions. God, she’s definitely losing her fucking mind. And she’s definitely never had it this good, not from anyone.

He curls over her, kisses up the midline of her throat until he reaches her chin, then noses at her jaw. His fingers squelch as they pump in and out of her dripping, pink pussy.

“How’s that, Maya? God, you’re so gorgeous like this. I mean, shit, you’re always gorgeous but— Christ, can’t believe how good you feel on my fingers. So fucking good.”

Her cunt grips his fingers hard like she might not let him have them back. With every thrust he gives her, he gets her closer and closer. He murmurs quietly, kissing her inflamed skin nice and soft, and that’s what does it, more than the roughness or the careful attention to what she likes, it’s just… him.

“Shawn, I’m gonna come,” she pants, squeezing her eyes shut. Her toes curl against the bed and every muscle in her body tightens as it takes her. She gasps and roils against the sheets, holding onto it as long as she possibly can because Jesus, it’s so, so good. He’s so good.

She realizes she’s muttered that to him as she starts to come down with a goofy smile.

He’s never seen anything so breathtaking before. Her entire body clenches as her orgasm swells, and he’s mesmerized by the sound of her voice as she whines his praise.

He’s blushing, despite fucking her through it and blowing on her clit again. His cock twitches as he watches her drip all over his hand.

Her body relaxes around his fingers, her back relaxing into the bed as her orgasm begins to subside. He realizes his chest is heaving as he pulls his fingers from her pussy.

He looks from her flushed face to his wet fingers. He wants to taste her. He lifts his hand to his mouth and sucks at the tips of his fingers before cleaning the rest with long sweeps of his tongue.

“I think I’m gonna have to eat you out next time,” he murmurs as he sits back on his thighs. His cock aches at the thought.

“I mean, you know. If that’s okay with you like, consent wise and stuff. It’s whatever you want.” he says with a flush, eyes widening slightly.

Maya laughs cloudily, shaking her head at the look on his face when he tries to backtrack a little. She tilts her head at him.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” she hums, blinking sleepily.

After that performance, yeah, he’s got an all-access pass now. Maya shivers thinking about what he can do with his mouth after how worked up she got on his fingers.

Maya lifts her bare leg and wraps it around his back, urging him forward into her. Her hands reach to catch him as he lowers himself.

“C’mere,” she murmurs, looking for his mouth back on hers because it’s intoxicating and she wants to get him just as worked up as he did her.

She still wants him. He’s absolutely not complaining. He wasn’t going to ask if she didn’t offer, but this seems way more romantic than simple reciprocation. She actually wants him. Like it’d be an honor to make him feel as good as he made her.

He moans, soft and raspy, into her mouth as he rests on top of her, his cock rutting slowly against her belly.

She can taste herself on his tongue. It makes her arch into him, grip a little harder at the firm plane of his back as he rests over her, rocking against her gently, like he’s not sure she’s into it. She tightens the leg around his waist, squeezing him to give him permission.

“You—“ he pants against her lips, nudging at her nose with his. “I’m so fuckin’ hard for you. I hope that’s okay.”

He drops his lips to her jaw, nosing his way along her cheek as he pants into her skin. His cock twitches in his slacks and he swears he can feel her wetness seeping through the fabric.

Maybe he has a vivid imagination. He’s insanely hard, either way.

He breaks away to croak into her mouth. She bites her lower lip and groans gently at his honesty. She lies back, letting him explore her cheek and jaw tenderly as he grinds against her.

Maya sneaks a hand down to squeeze his ass, pushing at the fabric of his slacks to get him naked for her. She wants more of his flushed, pretty skin, wants to make him feel at least half as good as he did for her.

She gets frustrated by how tight his pants are. She grunts and sits up, almost knocking into his face as she does. She laughs and kisses him playfully, using both hands to shuck him out of his slacks and tip him onto his side.

He likes the way she handles him. Shuffles him out of his pants and pushes him down so she can have her way with him. Fuck. If this is how he dies, it’s a great way to go.

She straddles his hips, dropping to grind against him again, just for a little while, just to feel him, but by the look on his face, she can’t keep this up with him for long or he’s going to explode.

She presses her bare, wet pussy against his boxer-clad cock and rocks her hips, grinding into him like she wants him to explode. Shawn’s head falls back as he moans, his hands falling to her thighs to keep her tight against him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Maya. You feel so fucking good like this.”

Maya gasps at the feeling of his hands sinking into the flesh of her thighs as she rocks into him. She plants her hands beside his head and struggles to regain her breath and her senses, but the noises he’s making and the shakiness in his voice as he praises her have her head spinning, have her all worked up again.

One naughty hand slips along her thigh towards her pussy. His thumb twirls through her pubic hair before slipping down to her swollen, sensitive clit. His hips buck so the head of his cock grinds against her clit while his thumb scratches lightly at the little hood.

“Oh god, ohmygod,” she swears. He’s touching her again. She’s got him on the edge of orgasm, about to lose his head, and he has the presence of mind to try to get her wet again.

God, she’s falling so hard for this kid.

“Could come like this,” he mutters, his voice fucked as he gazes up at her.

She leans forward until her lips drop to his cheek. She breathes softly, planting her hands beneath her so she can push herself up away from his lips that have her head all foggy and almost thinking, yeah, fucking let him come like this, grinding beneath me in his boxers.

She smiles gently, easing off his hips to his thighs, carefully pushing his boxers down his legs so she can finally get at him for real.

Maya drops a gentle fingertip to skate over his twitching cock as it rests wet and pink against his stomach.

“I wanna touch you,” she whispers, glancing up to his eyes for his permission.

He absolutely cannot argue with her. She can do whatever the fuck she wants with him.

His cock twitches as she grazes his shaft with her fingers. He drops his head back, lifts his hips and spreads his thighs.

“Yeah, please,” he nods, then looks down at her. “That sounds so— fuck— so good.”

Maya’s mouth waters a little when he spreads his thick, gorgeous thighs. She swallows a moan, trailing her fingertips down the inside of his left thigh, staring at him, admiring as he pants and fights to stay still for her.

He fists handfuls of duvet on either side of himself, biting his lips at he watches her. He’s not sure how long he’s gonna last, but he’s about to try his hardest not to be a mess before she really gets a chance to explore him.

“Do whatever you want to me,” he finally chokes, finding it easy to be so honest with her.

She smirks, watching him ball the duvet up in his fists. She makes a quiet humming noise in the back of her throat, dropping onto her forearms, brushing her lips over the sensitive tip of his throbbing cock. With just a gentle kiss, she pushes back up on her knees and wraps her fingers around his cock.

Her grip is reasonably tight. She licks her lips greedily, watching as she starts stroking him, long, slow, teasing strokes. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, but she kinda wants to hear him beg.

“How’s my hand feel?” she pants, grinning down at him.

She’s too fucking sexy for him. Too fucking charming and confident and a little too honest and a little too vulnerable and he loves every bit of it. It’s just her hand but it’s the best thing he’s ever had.

It’s her hand and he’s so fucking fucked.

He’s gonna call his mum in the morning and ask for love advice or something.

He really shouldn’t be thinking about mum.

Her voice draws his attention and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut as his head tips back.

“Maya, sugar— yeah, Jesus, so good.” He lifts his head, blinking at her as he pants, wets his lips. “You’re perfect. I’m so—“ his shut, he gasps and flicks his hips, cock twitching in her hand, “I’m so fucking into you.”

She’s really loving making him fall apart. He’s out of himself, bucking his hips and muttering sweet love words that make her smile. She tightens her hand, wrinkles her nose at him affectionately.

She bites her lip, sinks onto her forearm so she’s hovering over him, her hand still stroking, a little harder, a little faster, as she lies over him, close enough that she can see everything in his eyes.

“I like that you call me ‘sugar’,” she murmurs, leaning in to lick at his lower lip.

Maya slows her hand steadily, swiping her thumb up over the ridge on the underside of the head of his cock. She squeezes him gently, nudges his nose with hers.

“I’ll be your sugar if you be my baby,” she whispers before planting her lips against his.

His hips roll a bit faster as her slick, deft fingers grip his cock tighter. He pants against her lips, fingers curling into her thighs.

A growl passes between their lips as she kisses him, one hand flying up to cup the back of her head. He kisses her and kisses, tries to say, yes, please, whatever you want, without having to actually say it.

His cock throbs, weeping at the tip and dripping all over her hand. He bends his legs, slides his heels up the bed as he starts to fuck up into the tight clench of her fist.

He whines into her mouth, bites at her lower lip as he leaks all over them both.

He falls headfirst into her kiss, exactly where she wants him, where she needs him. She kisses back just as fiercely, massaging his tongue with hers in the same rhythm that she strokes his throbbing cock.

She loves how wet he’s getting her. She doesn’t think she’s ever had anyone want her so badly, be so ready to please her, show her how much she’s doing for him. She thinks she could pretty easily get hooked on this. On him.

“Gonna— shit, gonna come, Maya, my god,” he growls, head dropping back.

Maya tightens her hand and pumps faster, her heart sprinting in her chest as she chases him toward his orgasm. His feet slide up the bed and he’s fucking her hand and she realizes she’s whispering to him, telling him to come hard for her, she’s so into him, too.

Maya sits back and bites her lip, waiting for him to fall.

Her words of encouragement set him on fire. He nods but can’t answer, just grunts and reaches for her waist, gripping her as he rocks his hips up, pushing the head of his cock through the circle of her fist.

Maya doubles down, pulses his cock in her hand when he’s close enough to coming that it’ll throw him over the edge.

“Fuck-- fuck,” he growls, turning his head and pressing it into the pillow as his cock twitches, balls tightening before he comes, releasing himself across his abdomen and onto her fingers. His hips rock through it, her tight, warm hand milking him for all he’s worth.

He pants hard, bucks into her fist, goes all breathy and pink when he comes, splattering hard onto his chest and her hand. Maya strokes him through it, humming gently.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” she whispers, watching his frantic hips slow to a roll. She’s mesmerized, watching him fuck her hand, watching his eyes come back from wherever he went.

He groans as his cock aches, dribbles what’s left of his orgasm onto his stomach as he finally collapses down onto the bed. His legs slip out in front of him, his chest heaving as he sucks in a deep breath.

After a moment, his hand falls from her hip and he reaches for her wrist instead, pulling her from his dick. He bites his lip, looks up at her, blinking blearily a couple of times.

“Gimme a minute and I can get you a washcloth,” he murmurs, sending her a lazy smile.

Maya smiles gently and lets him tug her hand away from his sensitive cock. She nods and slides down on her side next to him, gripping his rib cage for his attention.

“No rush,” she murmurs, brushing her nose over his tenderly before kissing him, feeling the swell of his plump lower lip between hers, tasting his tongue.

She curls into his side easily, doesn’t even care that they’re both covered in his spunk. She doesn’t care because she likes being next to him, he thinks. Wants. Hopes.

He doesn’t like getting his hopes up too much, but he can’t help but read into the little hints Maya gives him. This night hasn’t made anything about his crush on her easier. It’s just that much harder, if anything.

He hasn’t fallen for a girl like this, ever.

She’s lying naked on his dorm bed beside him and they’re all sticky and she can hear drunk college kids singing and screaming on the quad outside his window. She smiles and turns her face into his chest, feeling it in her nose as his heart beat starts to settle.

Eventually, the come drying on his stomach gets a little too sticky and he carefully extracts himself from her side to fetch a couple of wet cloths.

He wipes his stomach off as he makes his way back into his bedroom, climbing up on the bed and handing off the warmed rag he brought for her.

Maya’s prepared to hunt down her panties and hurry away through the cold back to her off-campus apartment but she’s hoping he’ll have her stay. She thinks he probably will.

“You can stay, if you want,” he says with a little smile, tossing his cloth into the hamper in the corner before settling back against the pillows.

He settles back into bed with his invitation. She tries not to blush or look too smug. She sits cross-legged on the bed and plays with his fingers.

“Point me to your t-shirts, Mendes.”

God, yes.

He was worried for a moment she’d start getting dressed and make up something about needing to sleep in her own bed.

But she doesn’t, and now he’s dying to see her draped in his clothing.

“Oh-- duh, yeah. Hold on,” he grins at her before crawling off the bed and going to his dresser. He digs through the middle drawer and pulls out an old, soft Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure t-shirt and brings it over to her.

Maya doesn’t know why she blushes when he stands and scrambles to his dresser for a shirt for her. But he’s got a really great ass and she wants to grab it and smack it and bite it and oh, he’s coming back, she should probably look back up at his face now.

“That’s a good soft one,” he says as he places it in front of her before slipping back into bed himself. He presses his lips together as he watches her change.

Maya clears her throat and smiles, dropping the big, cool shirt over her chest. He’s right. It is nice and soft. She turns her nose into her shoulder and smiles at the way it smells like fabric softener. She knows she’s smitten now -- she’s giggling at the mental image of him doing laundry and using fabric softener.

“S’cool if I sleep naked, though? Not like-- I mean, this is how I always sleep but I can put boxers on if you want.”

He doesn’t exactly know how to do this. Girls either leave or kick him out, and the last girlfriend he had was in high school, and there were definitely no sleepovers there. So sleeping with a girl, like actually sleeping, is a pretty new thing for him.

Maya settles back against the pillow and shakes her head. “Go ahead, be free in your own bed.”

“I think I want to see you again this week please,” she murmurs sleepily, eyes drooping as she curls up against his side.

Shawn settles further into bed as Maya nestles into his side. He’s tired, but his heart is still racing. If she can hear it, she doesn’t let on.

“You can see me whenever you want,” he replies after a moment, his voice a gentle murmur as he watches her heavy eyes fall shut. Her chest rises and falls steadily, and she’s asleep within moments.

He doesn’t sleep much that night, too busy watching Maya sleep or waking up to see if she’s there, if she’s real, and to make sure the whole thing wasn’t a vivid fever dream.

She’s still there when dawn arrives, early morning sunlight beginning to creep in through the window. In a groggy haze, Shawn curls himself around her warmth and wakes her up with teasing kisses along the column of her throat. She stirs after six kisses or so, and they don’t leave the bed until their stomachs begin to growl in unison.

He takes her out for waffles and coffee milkshakes. It’s the perfect Next Time.

----------

Taglist: @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @grittyisaho @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint @randi-eve @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire @itrocksmysocks @parkerspicedlatte @desire-to-live @jillian-nd

[identityexcavationstation]

The High Fidelity Remake is Good and my Identity is Irreversibly Linked to Music Consumption

Hi! So, I’m kinda insane about playlists.

This year I’ve made a lot of them. They’ve been short and snappy on index cards, scanned and pasted in a book and uploaded to the internet. (I’ve really fallen in love with index card playlists and they’re my thing now and I think everyone should do them always and forever.) They were easy to churn out as a retrospective exercise because the music I listened to as a teenager really defined my high school experience. Also, I have most of my favorite songs from that period in a very dramatic playlist I started in 2014 so it was really a game of copy-and-paste. 

Making these smol boys in batches has been a really peculiar experience because for years now, I’ve only made one playlist at a time. In my second semester of college, I’d officially burned myself out listening to only CHVRCHES for three months and began venturing elsewhere. (Don’t get me wrong, CHVRCHES absolutely bangs, but you can only listen to “Never Ending Circles” so many times before getting seasick.) All of the random songs I was listening to made me feel kinda hazy and purple, like I’d done all of this before. So I made a playlist full of them and called it “Deja Vu.”

I added to it all semester, and then suddenly it was summer and I didn’t feel purple and hazy anymore⁠—everything was blue and crisp on the way to South Haven as my friend blasted “Settle Down” by Kimbra in her beat-up Honda. So I started a new playlist and named it the first word that popped into my head: “Roots.”

Using Deja Vu as a rubric, I developed some ground rules for the playlists I would go on to create. They are pretty nonsensical but also exceedingly firm because if I don’t make rules for every area of my life I feel like I’m falling into a deep and limitless void. Health! Anyway, the rules are:

The playlist’s title has to be a short noun (seven letters maximum).

This has since transformed into a noun that is also a verb.

To generate a title, I ask myself what short word I would use to describe the phase of life I’m currently in. The answer comes quickly and reflexively, and I choose the very first word I think of.

One song per artist, no repeats!

Exceptions are made for artists who are featured on a track.

There have been times when I’ve obsessively listened to a whole album or an artist’s entire discography, so I have to choose just one song that represents the very best of that album or artist.

Tracks are added chronologically, based on when I first hear them and/or start listening to them compulsively.

The playlist has to contain an amount of tracks that is divisible by five.

If a song in a playlist is deleted from Spotify, I have to find a replacement asap that is accurate to what I was listening to when that playlist was being created.

and, most importantly, 

I can’t make a new playlist until I feel I’m finished with the current one.

These playlists represent seasons of my life, cycles in which I change and evolve and stagnate and fuck up and try again. The only rule I have for beginning a new playlist is that I feel done with the current one—those songs are a little stale and don’t represent me anymore. These “seasons” don’t have any set length, and I can never predict when I’ll feel like a new being who needs new songs to define her. So far, my life has looked like this:

Deja Vu - 176 days (12.03.16 - 05.28.17) Most common lyrics: now, love, time, need, take

snow that covers ivy that covers bricks, towers made from dining hall dishes, smiling at the bus stop without knowing, sheet masks in the dorm bathroom at 2am, pink string lights and pink crocheted blankets and pink shag carpeting, cheap beer behind tarps and walking everyone home

Roots - 111 days (05.28.17 - 09.16.17)  Most common lyrics: love, one, give, wanna, know

t-shirt tan lines, mozzarella and tomato and basil and singed spaghetti, sunset walks around abandoned high schools, green leaves outlined in watercolor, the smell of mildew and old paper in banker’s boxes, sweat-soaked french braids, the knife twist of eye contact, tarot readings under lamplight

Walls - 110 days (09.16.17 - 01.04.18)   Most common lyrics: wanna, know, baby, take, feel

crying in the gender-neutral restroom, pretty boys holding guitars or rolling rock, photos in the forest, blue carpeting and lofted bedframes, pitch-black bonfires, sitting in the dining hall to just watch the people pass, snow on eyelashes in large wet clumps, laughing at lies

Bite - 78 days (01.04.18 - 03.23.18)    Most common lyrics: know, love, stay, come, need

impatience at the airport, texting on the laundry room floor, nervous night drives, five grilled cheese sandwiches, acne like freckles, ceiling photos taken in secret, watercolor lines and paper houses, broken glass on the sidewalk, ink-stained forearms, notebook paper comics, writing small on basement walls

Windows - 131 days (03.23.18 - 08.01.18)   Most common lyrics: love, now, know, baby, fall

books piled up by the bed, rum and coke and orange juice and vodka and cheap white wine, rainy day night walks, streetlights turning the leaves orange, echoes from the party upstairs, solo trips to the grocery store, always leaving the blinds open, aperol and chai lattes and smørrebrød, never coming home

Grip - 136 days (08.01.18 - 12.15.18)    Most common lyrics: know, boy, lost, girl, night

read receipts, the creaking of an empty house, sand and bricks and traffic cones, sitting on the curb and shaking, applause at dinner, bubble tea, bike rides in torn jeans, mr brightside blasting at 10am, doodles during lectures, embroidery at the kitchen table, blue bus panic attacks, half an apple for lunch

Wait - 117 days (12.15.18 - 04.11.19)  Most common lyrics: heart, want, one, back, know

crying in the lobby, measuring oats by the quarter cup, drunken voice memos, shoes on power lines, another bowl of granola, reading all the lyrics, photos taken with the flash on, sleeping on strange couches, shoeboxes full of photographs, wire catching the sunlight, fifteen minutes of windchill

Wave - 108 days (04.11.19 - 07.28.19)  Most common lyrics: wanna, know, now, love, come

dancing on the porch, reading on the roof, tipsy trips to the corner store, silent heavy parlor air, chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting, barred windows and string lights and exit signs, highlighting the important parts, nails tapping on wooden tables, wet wind before the storm, biking straight into the smoke

Home - 178 days (07.28.19 - 01.22.20)   Most common lyrics: down, know, now, wanna, think

steep downhill walks, fingertips covered in graphite and lead, blank faces on green walls, forest walkways, hands gripping thighs too tightly, light leaks in darkrooms, the handwriting of strangers, chains trapped between teeth, white words left unread, twirling at the tennis court, yellow becoming blue

Hand - 63 days (01.22.20 - 03.25.20)   Most common lyrics: know, time, love, die, back

masking tape messages, laughing four shots in, BiC .07mm HB mechanical pencils slipped into coat cuffs, cheeks blushed with red ink, green floodlights and kissed knuckles, windows fogged from the inside, falling asleep with earbuds in, finger guns and everything in boxes, wedging open locked doors

_______________________________________________________________________

It’s interesting to look back at these playlists altogether, see them as self-contained units, little stories I tell about myself, about the people I used to be. Adding a song to one of these playlists was like making a vow, entering a relationship with a collection of sounds. It’s like I was saying “this song is now a part of me.” I constructed this little world for myself in the space between my ears, and it, in turn, created me.

I really mean it when I say that the first word that floats to the front of my mind becomes the title of whatever playlist I’m making. I never question what the word means, and its meaning always ends up describing that season of my life. 

“Roots” became a period of reconnecting with essential pieces of myself I thought I had abandoned. 

During “Grip,” I was holding on so tightly to things that had left me ages ago, and I think I knew that, even if I was unable to admit it to myself. 

“Wait” revealed itself in two ways: it was a time in which 1.) I felt stagnant and restless, unable to be patient, and 2.) I was forced to grasp with a physical and emotional weight that had been bearing down on me. 

The mind is a magical thing—it processes what we refuse to recognize. 

Speaking of which, these playlist covers have been driving me up the wall for ages. They’re like nails on a freaking chalkboard for my synesthesia. Is “Bite” a heavily blue playlist? Sure. But is “Home” purple? Is “Grip” pink??? I think the fuck not! 

(I could do a whole goddamn blog post on synesthesia, and I might.)

Now that I know how to switch out playlist cover art (can you believe it’s taken me this long to figure out how to do that?), I have decided to issue myself a challenge/project/way to procrastinate actual work I have to do. 

I’d like to make a piece of cover art for all of the above playlists. And because I am, to reiterate, insane, I’m setting up some Rules For Creation:

All works must be the same size, on the same type of paper using similar materials (tbd but probably graphite, colored pencil, watercolor, fineliners, and/or collage).

The preliminary sketch for each cover must be created while listening to the playlist.

Each piece can (must?) incorporate the five most common lyrics as listed above because goddammit I did not spend four hours compiling lyrics in a web-based word cloud generator for nothing.

If I’m not having fun, I won’t make myself do it because this is literally just for laffs. 

Anyway, I’m looking forward to creating some fun weird art! I know nobody is gonna read this and nobody is gonna comment but if, by some miracle, you feel like it, comment a playlist you’ve made that you’re really proud of! Or comment if you have some weird playlist rules! Or cyberbully me! Anything’s fair game. 

TL;DR playlists are fun and I’m a maniac :)

[ajora]

I never played ff5 but ngl I kind of want you to answer ALL the questions on that meme because I like hearing your thoughts about it. (and faris for the character part, because hm. yes. butch lesbian pirate. I can dig this. and your otp for the ship part, obviously.)

Oh boy, settle in because this’ll be looong.

So, for everyone else: warning: this talks about being nb/butch, a taboo ship, and spoilers for FF5.

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character: Toss-up between Faris and Lenna.

Least Favorite character: I don’t actually hate him because his recurring crossover character status is hilarious and he’s got great theme music, but, Gilgamesh. His final words to Faris ( 恋でもして　ちったあ　女らしくなりな | essentially: go fall in love, then you’ll become more feminine) always rubbed me wrong. The love that defines her is the love she has for Lenna, even if you don’t interpret it as romantic love, and her love should never force her to become what she’s not. 

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Honestly, just Faris/Lenna. I’m chill with other people shipping other ships, but farilenna is my forever ship.

Character I find most attractive: I overrelate to Faris and Lenna is exactly my type. Gosh, but her squeak in DFFOO is adorable.

Character I would marry: I mean, I have a girlfriend I intend to marry, but Lenna would be a nice second option.

Character I would be best friends with: I’d probably get along with all of them, but realistically Butz is just the kind of no-commitment, independent friend I get along best with

a random thought: After the DFFOO event with Butz giving everything that makes him him to his dark world clone, I unironically want to redraw a SUF screenshot with someone taking Connie’s place to say that the only one who hasn’t had Steven Butz is Steven Butz. Largely because Butz shunts his personal feelings to the side to be the supportive friend and teen girl escort everyone needs.

An unpopular opinion: The GBA localization is great, but it’s not an accurate translation and sacrifices accuracy for the lulz. Which is fine!

My Canon OTP: I’mma reach and say Amano drew my otp holding each other on official art that got plastered everywhere in Japanese GBA-release media, so that totes counts as official, right? It’s the same argument the Butz/Lenna shippers used back in the day. (I even have this art in poster form)

My Non-canon OTP: Because FF5 has no actual endgame ships, obviously my otp. 

Most Badass Character: Look, Faris dove into a dragon-generated whirlpool that could have killed her to save her crew when she was 15. She fell off a cliff and crawled back up for Lenna. Faris, hands down.

Most Epic Villain: tbh the most epic villain was one who wasn’t in the game until he became an optional boss added in the GBA revamp: Enuo. He might not have been in the game’s present, but his shadow loomed large 1000 years after his death/sealing away.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Not personally a fan of shipping Butz with any of the girls, largely because he’s shaped like a friend and has been a fantastic friend to all of them, and FF5 really isn’t a romance. I’m absolutely happy to ship him with Squall in the Dissidias though. Butz/Squall is my otp for him. 

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Eh, I feel like the ending sequence for Faris could have focused less on her being a woman and more on her actual acts of courage. Courage being her whole damn thing and defining trait and all.

Favourite Friendship: Faris and Syldra. Gosh, but all the Japanese texts on them makes me mourn Syldra’s death even harder.

Character I most identify with: Faris bc butch/nonbinary reasons and huge issues with being shoehorned into one gender (male) but not really feeling it (Faris does, in Japanese at least, identify as a woman; direct translation by me: “don’t treat me like a fool because I’m a woman”) and also not wanting to 100% be compliant with femininity.

Character I wish I could be: Look, who doesn’t want to be a pirate.

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you:

When I started shipping them: 1997 baby. It’s been years and while I flitted out of FF5 fandom in the 2000s up til I returned now, I never stopped loving my ship

My thoughts: Yeah, the sibling incest complicates things, but also? They were separated very young, didn’t grow up together, and didn’t meet again until adulthood. There’s no actual power imbalance there. Even with respect to social status. Like, yes Lenna’s in line to be queen, but does anyone really think she’d abuse her position for anything? She adores Faris. Faris will destroy everyone in this room and then herself if anything happened to Lenna. 

What makes me happy about them: Oh, gosh, they are so good together. Also? I adore how muddled up they are together. Lenna is the Light Warrior of Water, her defining trait being conscientious kindness. Faris is the Light Warrior of Fire, her defining trait being courage. But Lenna will absolutely kill that dragon if she has to. She’ll hare off into the unknown with only a knife to find her father. She’ll trudge through poison to save that dragon she was gonna kill. Her sky dragon turns into a phoenix. She’s the spirit of Water, but everything about her screams Fire. Conversely, Faris is bonded to a sea dragon, nearly drowned twice that we know of, and over the course of the game she does become a kinder person than she was. She’s the spirit of Fire, and yeah she does have courage aplenty, but she’s so inextricably bound to water that her skills in DFFOO are water-related. 

What makes me sad about them: That they could never be together openly. Also? That modern/post-GBA fandom will absolutely shit on the ship’s fans. You’ve seen me talk in Discord about the hate I run across often enough. And it’s absolutely wild to me because I’ve been here since 1997, I’ve heard all the jokes about Faris/Lenna back then, and no one threw a fit about it like they do now. Nevar 4get the off-color FWAKs that were common back in the day. 

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: Mostly just... treating the girls as Butz’s personal harem. And this is a small thing, at least. 

Things I look for in fanfic: Anything with my ship. Alternatively, anything where at least Faris isn’t straight. 

My wishlist: God I just want to talk to fellow Faris/Lenna shippers! And if I have to improve my translating-to-Japanese skills for it, I will. Also, I wanna get involved in a Faris/Lenna doujinshi someday. Or an anthology!

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: their dragons

My happily ever after for them: A cottage by the sea, all regal responsibilities forgotten, with new dragon companions because theirs died over the course of the game and Highwinds must have dragons.

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you:

How I feel about this character: Superb. Fantastic. When I was a young butch in the closet with only Oscar to look up to, Faris stormed onto the scene with all her flaws and character development and a dragon friend! and yes, I dig this. Still favorite, though Lenna unseats her ever so often. 

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Lenna. That’s it, really. World of Final Fantasy floated the idea of Quistis/Faris, but didn’t provide a lot to go on. 

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: Syldra! Although I have been known to ship her with Syldra too, back in the day. 

My unpopular opinion about this character: Faris is a very, very Asian trope character, her roots being in Oscar of Rose of Versailles, Takarazuka, and East Asian legends and histories of crossdressing women. I just feel really uncomfortable when white people, especially white cis people, ignore that, ignore that she herself says that she’s a woman, and insist that she’s a trans man. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I do wish the epilogue slideshow focused more on her deeds than on her feeling uncomfortable complying with traditional femininity.

Favorite friendship for this character: Syldra!

My crossover ship: Faris and Quistis becoming friends in WoFF after Quistis challenged her to a fistfight is just so Faris that I’d love to see fics exploring that. 

[thereluctanthedgewitch]

Mara Goes on a Late Night Rant

Started this last night. Finished it tonight.

Let me preface this by saying that I have been sick as all get out for the last week, I haven't been getting as much sleep as I should, and since the only other reliable employee is sicker than I am I have had to work. So, there will be some over the top ranting, more anger than is reasonable, and tangents that go nowhere. That said, strap in people, because I am pissed and I have a blog, so everyone is gonna hear about it. Okay. The five people that actually read what I have to say are gonna hear about it. So last week I stumbled across a cute little podcast about Greek Mythology that was absolutely lovely. But it was mythology, not religion. So that got me wanting. I want podcasts about religion. Specifically Greek and Norse. I found a wonderful YouTube channel that had some Norse myths and stories, but I wanted more. Besides, I didn't like the stories about Loki. This is where I get angry. Not because I can't find any, but because of what I found. Hate. Hate is what I found. I have become used to the hate and disrespect that Loki gets. I don't like it. I get frustrated. But the blinding anger has dissipated. When even fellow Lokeans show disrespect to their own God, who they are supposed to love and respect above all others, you finally lose your voice and sit in misery. I have begun to avoid most work that talks about Loki because I just don't want to see the hate and blatant disrespect anymore. So, I thought, let's check out the Greek podcasts. I need some love tonight. I did not find it. Let's start with Hades I found quite a few that told the story of how He gained His beloved Persephone. So. Many. Hateful. Words! Basically, what every single cast I found boiled down to was this: Hades was a poor, pitiful, lonely man who hated his position in the Underworld and wanted to drag someone down with him to keep as a possession. He saw poor, clueless Persephone and thought ''oh she is hot I want her." He went to Zeus who said sure you can take her but don't let anyone know, especially Demeter. So he pops out of the ground and scares away her guards and drags her away. Once he finds out that Demeter has found a way to save her daughter, he tricks said daughter into eating something so she has to stay. He is outsmarted because Persephone only ate 3 (or 4, or 6 depending on the translation) pomegranate seed, and so he has to let her go home for 1/3 (or 1/2) of the year. All is right with the world because evil Hades has been outsmarted and the defenseless flower child is free for part of the year. How fucked is that?! Hades isn't evil! Most of them justified this assumption by comparing him to Voldemort, saying no one would say His name even when giving Him offering. No. Just no. There were REASONS for not stating His name. And He has many names that He is called by. Just like everyone's favorite shiny God, Apollo. He has many different names, depending on His role at the time, and even depending on who is worshiping Him. So, that argument is invalid. Next. Another justification was (I quote here) "even when they gave Hades offerings, he was always given offering last, after all the other Gods". Um DUH. Idiots. He rules the realm of the DEAD! When you have nice fresh meat and veggies to give as offering, you give it to the Gods that want that! Do you give lemon to a God that wants sugar? No! Certain Gods want a freshly killed deer as sacrifice. Others want desiccated meat. You give the God what He wants or the offering is pointless. So, you wait. Hades wants super dead stuff because, you know, that's HIS DOMAIN! Morons! Utter morons!! (I quote again) "and when they would give him offerings, they would bury it in the ground and look to the ground and away. They couldn't even bring themselves to look at him for fear" Nooooooo...... out of RESPECT! UNDERworld, people! UNDER. THE. GROUND! Of course they buried offerings! You gonna look to the sky if you believe your God is under your feet?! Of course they looked down. And averting your eyes is common sense. *growls in frustration* Hades is the God of the realm of the dead (don't even get me started on the idiots that were calling Him the God of Death. Do your basic research, dumbasses. He rules the realm of the dead. Thanatos is the God of Death. *sigh*). There are basic rules when one honors Him. Death is the one constant. It is the END OF THINGS. So, He would get offering last. Not in disrespect. In acknowledgement that He is the one we all go to at the end of our lives. He is cold and distant to us, yes. Because He truly has no reason to interact with us while we live. "I will see you at the end of your days. Live your life, we have eternity later." He is cold because death is cold. Emotionally speaking. Cold is not evil. Respect is not fear. Now. My Lady Persephone. Someone please please PLEASE for the love of Olympus and Valhalla, tell me how the FUCK someone can call a GODDESS weak and clueless and easily tricked. HOW?! Persephone is a dual Goddess. She is the wildflowers in the fields. She is the death of winter. She is a Goddess in Her own right and a motherfucking QUEEN of the Underworld. If Hades had kidnapped and raped Her, if He was keeping Her there against Her will, do you honestly think She would be RULING by His side? Do some minimal research and you will find that SHE had more say, more rule, more POWER than Her husband when in the Underworld. How is this possible if She is a defenseless little meek thing like they were insinuating? In all honesty, I would rather face down Hades, Cerberus, and Thanatos before facing The Queen. (please don't make me! I beg you. I was only saying it to make a point, not to invite trouble. I would rather not face any of them tyvm.) She is scary when angered. She is in no way meek. She knew what She was doing when She ate those pomegranate seeds. She WANTED to be there. He didn't kidnap Her and hold Her against Her will. She got on that chariot because she WANTED to. And don't even think you can say, "but He raped Her!" No. No He did not. Rape did not mean the same thing then as it does now. These words are translated from ANCIENT GREEK into Latin and from Latin into English (and possibly a few other languages between them). Languages evolve. They change. Words are updated. Definitions are altered. Look up the history of awesome. Or terrible. Or any other number of words. The word rape, even now, does not mean "to force sexual acts on an unwilling person", or at least that isn't all that it means. Now, it also stands for many forms of violation. But "the rape of Persephone" didn't mean what people today think it means. The title of the story is literally "The Rape of Persephone" but does the content of the story have sex ANYWHERE? Not anywhere I have found. Please, if someone finds a version, a HISTORICALLY ACCURATE VERSION, that tells of Hades forcing Himself on Persephone, show me. On the topic of rape, let's go to Zeus now. If I hear one more podcast that calls Zeus ''rapey Zeus" I am going to scream and throw my phone! Again, I say, RAPE DID NOT MEAN WHAT IT DOES NOW!!! Yes, He was what many people today would call a horndog. But please, stop placing your mortal and societal views onto the Gods. And why place all that judgement on Zeus? The other Gods and Goddesses got around as well. Admittedly, not as much as Zeus, but please. Would you rather tell everyone that you got it on with the King of the Gods, or... I dunno, Hermes? And it doesn't really matter how many Gods, Goddesses, or mortals he slept with. Our morals are a social construct. They are mortal views. Not the morals of our Gods. Beyond that, they are GODS! Who are you to judge Them?! Who are you to scoff and shame a God for what He or She may or may not have done?! I may not be as close to Zeus as I am to Persephone and Loki, but it still pisses me off. And.... since I am here, and in a ranting mood. Can I just ask.... If you call yourself a Lokean. If you say you are devoted to Him. Why. Why do you disrespect Him so? You say you love Him and then in the same breath, call Him a "little bastard" and a "shit" or even a "fucker". Why? You flippantly post online how some people give great pomp and ceremony to one God while giving a grand offering that took hours to prepare and you just toss a donut on the altar and say "here you go I guess. whatever". No. No no no. How is this respect? How is this devotion? Yes, there are days where Loki wants a donut as offering. But shouldn't you give that as much ceremony as if you were pouring the finest wine? Beyond that, why announce your rudeness to the masses? Disrespect Him privately if you think that is the relationship you have. Fine. I am not one to judge your relationship with your Gods. But don't show people this! It isn't funny. It isn't bragging. I have had moments in my relationship with Him where I have said things that could be seen as disrespectful. But do I post them online? NO! The closest I have gotten was posting a glitter bomb situation when He was being especially playful. And I removed the one disrespectful comment I made in the screenshot of the text messages. It doesn't make me angry anymore. It makes me sad. We, as pagans, are faced with hate and disrespect from many outside our religion. We shouldn't encourage the same among our own. Our community, our religion, should spread love and respect, not hate.

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday, axelvanew

March 20- 616 comicsverse Daredevil/Bullseye? Preferably something fluffy, and post-resurrection, for @axelvanew

Written by @ozhawkauthor 

Unfortunately, we don’t have anyone on the marvelousbirthdays squad who’s really familiar with 616 canon for these characters, and I have to admit I haven’t watched DD S3 yet. Still, I hope this little Soulmate Short satisfies your requirements! 

A knock on her door late at night was rarely a good sign. Karen took her gun from her purse and used her phone to bring up the image from her door camera. She’d stopped using the peephole after Frank warned her assassins would shoot straight through it as it darkened.

She sighed as she recognised the figure standing there, but headed to the door anyway. 

“Matt Murdock. What brings you by so late at night?”

Worse yet, he was in his Daredevil outfit under a long coat, the mask presumably tucked in his pocket somewhere.

“I heard something,” he said simply.

“Of course you did. You’d better come in.” She closed and locked the door behind him before heading to the table to pick up her notepad and a pen. Assuming he’d come to tip her off about something better suited to an article in the Bulletin than his brand of ass-kicking, she waited expectantly. “So what have you heard?”

Matt shuffled a little uncomfortably. “I heard Rosalie Carbone ordering a hit on you,��� he said finally.

Pad and pen fell from nerveless fingers, and Karen sat down a lot more abruptly than she’d intended. “When?” she asked through numb lips.

“About twenty minutes ago. It was on the phone. Whoever she was talking to said it would be taken care of tonight.”

“We have to get out of here!”

Matt held out a hand to stay her as she struggled to get to her feet again. “Out in the open is the worst place you could possibly be right now. Your apartment’s very secure, and being made more secure as we speak. I could only round up Jessica on such short notice, but she’s patrolling outside. I came in here in case things get close-quarters.”

Karen put her head in her hands, trying to think, but Matt was right. Trying to run was the worst thing she could do right now. If Matt and Jessica couldn’t stop whoever was coming to kill her, well…

Well, then she’d die tonight, but she’d do so knowing Rosalie Carbone was going down, permanently. Pulling her laptop towards her, she started typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Matt asked, but he had to know.

“Triggering my insurance policies,” Karen said without looking up.

“Fair enough,” Matt said after a moment, and he removed his coat, draping it over the back of a chair. Karen didn’t look up to watch him put his mask on.

Around three a.m. there was a second knock on the door. Karen’s head snapped up and she looked at Matt, who pointed at the kitchen. She didn’t ask how he knew about the tiny safe closet she’d had built installed in the back of the pantry cupboard. She just ran.

* * *

Matt moved stealthily towards the door, holding a book he’d picked up from the table. There was no time to query why Jess hadn’t texted him; if he survived the next few minutes, he’d worry about her then. Standing to one side of the door, he held the book in front of the peephole.

The shot was silenced but it would still have deafened him if not for his special earplugs. He let the book drop to the floor, hoping the thump would convince the assassin his shot had met its target, but knowing it wasn’t over. Rosalie had told her hitman to bring her proof of death, and that meant a photo, or something a lot more grisly. Stepping soundlessly back, Matt waited.

The assassin didn’t bother picking the lock; whoever it was just put a second bullet into it and then shouldered the door open. Matt’s foot snapped up, the silenced pistol flew from the man’s hand, and then the fight was on.

There were a few moments when Matt was worried. The hitman reacted fast and was uncannily accurate; he nailed Matt twice with thrown objects when he managed to put some distance between them, once with an apple snatched from Karen’s fruit bowl and a couple of seconds later with a plate sent spinning across the room like a lethal frisbee. That one caught Matt at the base of the skull and hurt like hell, but he didn’t let it slow him down, closing the range again even as the guy scrabbled for another weapon to throw. Taking the guy down, they grappled on the floor, Matt growing more determined by the minute to discover just who this bastard was. He was strong, squirming and wrestling, trying to force Matt off as Matt finally got his arms pinned and the guy trapped under his body.

At which point Matt discovered something really weird, because he was pretty sure that wasn’t a banana in the guy’s pocket, and if he had another gun he’d have surely used it.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he gasped, short of breath from the fight.

The hitman went completely still, and then Matt sensed him slowly starting to smile.

“Lots of things, but it looks like I might’ve finally done something right,” the hitman said.

Shocked, Matt didn’t loosen his grip for an instant. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“Folks call me Bullseye, but you can call me lover, if you like. It’s up to you.”

“I meant your real name.”

“It doesn’t matter. That guy’s dead to everyone who knew him.”

The unexpected sadness in the voice, the truth behind that sadness Matt could feel deep in his bones, made Matt loosen his grip. Just a little.

“Who’s the girl to you?” Bullseye asked, and the jealousy in his voice finally convinced Matt this was real.

“A friend I’d rather stayed alive.”

“Just a friend?”

“Just a friend. Killing her would be very bad for your future health, actually. She’s Frank Castle’s soulmate.”

“The Punisher? I’m glad you intercepted me for more reasons than one, then. I won’t touch her - Daredevil.”

“You can call me Matt. Or lover, if you like.” Matt teased his soulmate by repeating back his earlier words, and Bullseye chuckled, a low, rasping sound which made Matt think it had been a long time since he laughed.

“I do like.”

He’d gone completely relaxed, so Matt leaned down and kissed him. They were still kissing on the floor when Karen’s voice interrupted them.

“Is this the guy who’s here to kill me, or did you two trash my apartment while having sex?”

“If you think this is the kind of mess we’re gonna make while having sex, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Bullseye said, and Matt couldn’t help laughing.

“Are you going to keep trying to kill her, or can I let you up now?”

“Y’all can let me up. But we’re gonna have to come up with something to tell Rosalie Carbone, because she’ll just send someone else.”

“Pretty sure Karen already took care of that problem,” Matt said. “I think Rosalie’s gonna have bigger things to think about pretty soon.”

“That’s good. Hate to miss out on collecting my fee, but I want to piss my soulmate off a lot less, so we’ll call it quits, eh? I’ve got plans for the rest of the night.”

Matt was about to ask what plans when Bullseye ground his hips upwards, and Matt lost his breath.

“Am I late to the party?” Jessica asked, arriving just that moment. “Wow, what a mess. This looks worse than my place. Why’s he still alive?”

“He’s my soulmate,” Matt said, and from the floor Bullseye grinned and waved up at Jessica.

“Hi.”

“Just get out, both of you,” Karen said on a sigh. “Jess, fancy helping me clean up?”

“No.”

“Jess,” Matt said warningly, getting to his feet and offing his soulmate a hand.

Jessica gave a martyred sigh. “Fine, but you owe me one. Especially since it’s obvious you two are about to go and fuck the night away.”

“Perceptive woman. I think I like your friends.”

“You just tried to kill one of them!”

“Guy’s gotta eat.” Bullseye spread his hands.

“There are better ways than taking mafia money. Come on.” Sensing Karen had seriously had enough, Matt led the way out. Bullseye paused at the door to snag his gun, putting it back in a holster inside his jacket.

“You’re not worried I’ll shoot you?” he asked as they made their way down the stairs.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Matt grinned. “You’re much more interested in doing other things to me. Have been since I got you pinned to the floor back there.”

“You’re not wrong, but how can you be so sure?”

“We’ve all got secrets, Bullseye,” Matt emphasized the name. “You tell me yours, I might tell you mine.”

They’d reached street level when a hand slipped into Matt’s, and a voice said very quietly “Lester. My name’s Lester.

[auggiehq]

╰ ♡ ✧ ˖ park jimin. 23. he/him. have you seen august lee? they used to be so cheerful before their heart got broken. now they just seem to be very closed off. i think it had something to due with his ex outting him , but who knows how accurate that is. i know, we should get them warm spicy pho to help cheer them up! maybe then they’ll start acting like tangled up headphones, sketchbooks filled to the brim, texts messages answered too quick. ( laura, 21, cst, she/them

Hii guys!! I’m Laura and i’m super excited for this rpg and down for plotting. Now on to my disaster gay 

Quick info

August aka Auggie was born in South Korea where he was raised until ten years old when his dad got a job at an american company which was like the job of a life time for him. So his whole family had to move to america which was hard for Auggie. He was already picked on in Korea for being shy and little different but here was even harder because he was really different. Like he didn’t even know that much English.

School was hard for him for awhile because English is a second langue it took him a little longer to understand things. (even though he has been in here for 13 years he does still have a little bit of an accent and does still sometimes get tripped up on words) plus kids picked on him. 

Auggie is a quiet person always has been so making friends isn’t easy for him and he when he does make friends he holds on to them. He holds on to them even when he shouldn’t. Even if they hurt him he forgives them and will even put the blame on himself. He has low self esteem and anxiety which doesn’t help any. 

 You can always find him with his sketchbook. Its one of the most important things he owns. He actually has a few but he only shows his sketches to people he’s really close too. Right now in college  he’s studying business to make his parents proud and happy but he really wants to do something in the arts. He’d love to draw for Funimation or disney it’s a dream of his but he’d never act on it. He puts a lot of pressure on himself to do what his parents want from him. He wants to make them proud 

Which has a lot to do with the reason he’s been in the closet (he’s pansexual) for so long. That plus he’s always been scared about what people think of him. And he already thinks people see him as this weird goofy childish guy that he didn’t want to add anything else to it. so he always just shoved his attractions to guys deep down until his ex.

Auggie never really dated like seriously dated until his ex. He fell for the guy quick and for the first time he let himself fall for a guy (not just a crush but actually fall in love). The guy was everything Auggie wanted but it soon turned sour when he began trying to force August out of the closet. And not like helping him come to terms with being pansexual but bullying him and emotionally abusing him. Until finally the guy posted a video without August consent (he even took it without auggie’s consent)  that showed August and the guy making out then he posted it  on Instagram and facebook. He posed it on his own pages plus while Auggie was still a sleep took his phone and posted them on his. He wanted to make sure everyone saw it. It destroyed Auggie and still is. He wasn’t ready to come out and now he is out whether he wanted to be or not. Even though he took the video down on his pages the guy never took them down and tried to explain to August that he was “just helping him”. August hasn’t seen his ex since then and hasn’t talked to his family avoiding their calls scared about what their gonna say. 

Tbh Auggie is just a shy fun awkward guy but right now he’s a little shaken up and unsure about life. After what his ex did is blaming himself a little and walking on eggshells wondering what everyone will think. He knows it’s 2019 but he also knows that there are people out there that still don’t like people who identify anything but straight.  

[humankoalaa]

anissa pierce.

i want to try and breakdown not just thundergrace but anissa specifically. you don’t have to agree or anything but if your going to respond please don’t attack.

ill start with anissa.

okay. anissa is the simplest most complex character on the show to me. calling her a fuck girl means you don’t understand her character at all. anissa is driven by emotion. she is so passionate about the things she believes in that sometimes the lines are blurred resulting in her making situations worse. but it’s important to understand that regardless of the outcome her intentions are pure. the writers and nafessa do a phenomenal job using expression and little to no dialogue at times to convey the internal and external conflict that anissa is dealing with in that moment. it is up to the audience to pick up on that.

these writers are so good at leaving characters, stories experiences etc open to interpretation because it helps keep the audience engaged. however it’s up to the audience to pick up on that and apply there interpretations to each character.

so yes you can interpret her as a “fuck girl” but at least have a valid argument as to why she is one because saying she can’t handle a relationship or be honest with her intentions are a reach being that you’re looking at it from a one dimensional aspect. we the audience knew what she was going through especially in season one. anissa developing and learning how to use her powers were NEVER about her. it was about what she could do with them to help others. so again that argument about honesty and intentions i can’t even take serious because i don’t understand how anyone watching this show can say anissa isn’t genuine in everything that she does.

now im gonna touch on two specific conversations from season 1.

those two conversations literally paint a picture so clear it’s annoying. when you take into account the conversation where grace says being a hero would be lonely and you’d have to hide everything from people you love. anissas facial expression and response was meant for the audience to understand that with all the chaos and confusion that was her life that was the moment she realized the sacrifices outweighed the benefits resulting in a change of heart for a moment questioning if this really was the life she wanted. again there was little to no dialogue needed to convey that message because her facial expression was meant to paint a clear picture of someone conflicted and essentially torn between 2 worlds.

now let get to romance.

i will admit initially the chenoa situation and what went down left a sour taste in my mouth until i got a better understanding of anissa. going back to the “fuck girl” slander she is anything but that. chenoa blatantly disregarded Anissa’s attempt to just speak to someone about what was happening with her and her powers. i don’t think she was trying to tell her she had powers but i feel like she just wanted to at least vent. and not feel crazy and the one person who i think she could speak to at the time was only chenoa because no one else knew what she was dealing with. so to ignore the fact that anissa broke a sink with her bear hands and suggests she see a therapist the look on anissas face told the audience everything we needed to know. in that moment the one thing that i agree she selfishly held onto was over.

not because of lack of effort or care but because of chenoas response. i know everyone says she didn’t take the relationship serious etc etc because of the fact that she had never been around anissas friends and family and to me there’s just not enough there to form and accurate argument about the relationship. what we do know is anissa held on selfishly and im going to be honest. if that was the one thing in my life that made sense i would selfishly hold on too. anyone who says they wouldn’t... that’s a lie. she is human regardless of her powers. as humans we tend to exhibit behaviors that dont accurately represent who we are in light of situations not in our control. Is that fair to other parties? no. but fact of the matter is it happens.

now onto grace.

first things first if you’ve seen my other texts posts it’s obvious i love these two together BUT anissa doesn’t and didn’t owe grace anything because they weren’t together. now going back to the two specific scenes i mentioned from season one im going touch base on the second one after grace was attacked. both of those conversations are intentional red herrings meant to be problematic and contradictory. it is meant to get the audience to realize in the face of adversity feelings and opinions etc change as evidently shown through dialogue with grace going from saying “being a hero would be lonely and we’re all just playing superhero’s” to without hesitation agreeing with anissa that if you had the power to take down bad guys you should. in that moment after being attacked she contradicted herself because well now the loneliness and hiding is worth it if it meant saving people from what happened to her that night.

the problematic and contradicting views now force the audience to go back to that initial conversation and current one and apply both sides to anissa. she is problemtatic and contradicting because she is torn between 2 worlds. one where she can do good using her powers discreetly to fight for justice and the community at any means without fearing for her life being that she’s essentially invincible and her loved ones, and another where she can still do good but not discreet resulting in putting herself and the people she cares about in danger.

she never wanted or intended to hurt grace. but i feel like the conversation after grace was attacked played a part in her ghosting grace because she’s even more conflicted. in that moment you can tell through her expression that she realized grace could have been alone when she got attacked and the situation would’ve played out much differently if she wasn’t there and used her powers. she didn’t know how to juggle both worlds. she didn’t feel like she could do enough good if she wasn’t being a hero.

so i feel like she ghosted her because that conversation is when she accepted the things she would have to sacrifice if this was the life she wanted to live. grace was one of those people. had she continued to entertain the idea of a relationship with grace while still dealing with everything she was going through then, it would’ve have been chenoa all over again. so instead she chose to focus on herself, getting her life together learning how to balance regular and vigilante life as opposed to stringing grace along for the sake of having someone. it so simple and obvious when you really pay attention to these characters. she was still learning and growing like she was 22 years old, in Med school on top of everything else that she was going through. removing people whether temporary or permanent had nothing to do with her being selfish and only caring about herself and her own feelings. it had everything to do with protecting the people in the community that she loves. she wouldn’t be able to do that without some sort of period where she tested her strengths, and knew her limits. if she couldn’t control her powers and didn’t know her strengths much like when she punched those boys and was terrified that one died because of how hard she hit him. in that moment she would’ve been just like the people she trying to get off the streets. ignorantly and irresponsibly going through life not being held accountable for their actions.

she simply chose to learn herself so that she could be the hero Freeland needed. it sounds so narcissistic but she genuinely cares about Freeland and the people. it’s not about oh she ghosted grace. or she just wants people at her convenience. no. it’s about the hidden meanings and reasonings behind why anissas character is the way that she is and does the things that she does. you have to pay attention to notice the little things because they are the most important parts of what makes anissa so special. she cares too much and its one of her biggest flaws simply because again she is driven by emotions resulting in her reacting as opposed to thinking things through. this character is just so special and as frustrating as she can be at times, shes self aware enough to know she didn’t have the time for a relationship because of what she needed to do for herself and in her eyes the community. if sacrificing parts of her life for others makes her a fuck girl then .... lol.